#this warm up got a little out of hand oops

[osachiyo]

" LEMME HIT YOU WITH THAT DUMB DICK ! "

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — dazai, chuuya, jouno (+ tecchou), oda, sigma x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — [n]sfw content, somnophilia, these are random scenarios ok don't come at me, degradation, humiliation, doggystyle, rough, getting caught, pussy slapping, s.ex at work, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, piv, unprotected s.ex (be careful babes), praise, creampie + etc • this was originally supposed to be their fav places to fuck but i had to scrap that bc i lost motivation :') anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! not proofread soz babes

ps. reblog to show your favorite writers support, they're greatly appreciated ! <3

⁰¹ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 — fucking you in a storage room of the agency

This man is a sex fiend, so of course he would love to fuck you literally anywhere anytime. Though he can't lie, being balls deep in your juicy little cunt at work — risking both of your dignities and possibly your jobs has him harder than a fucking rock.

"Osamu— what if we g-get caugh— mmh-!" you let out a muffled moan as dazai delivered a particularly harsh thrust into your cunt, effectively shutting you up. "Relaaaax, sweet thing — almost no one c-comes here — fuck, you're so damn tight," Dazai panted into your ear, hot breath making a chill run down your spine — back arching even further against his chest.

"God, you're so good f'me — so warm 'n right, fuck!" each word was rushed, dripping with lust — the desperation in his voice made you wanna look at his pretty face, pussy clenching just from imagining how good he'd look with his hair disheveled — his usual doe eyes narrowed and a deep blush covering his skin, sweat dripping down his forehead and making his hair stick to his forehead —

Your train of thought got cut off abruptly when Dazai slapped his hand over your mouth, before his hushed voice reached your ears, "shh, stay still f'me, sweetheart."

You were about to question it when you heard the president's voice from just behind the door. The door of the room you were currently getting your back blown out in.

"Yes, I keep hearing strange noises from this one room in particular," you heard fukuzawa's muffled voice — the thought of your boss catching you in the act made your pussy flutter around Dazai’s length, making the brunette grunt in response.

"Are you trying to get us caught, darl'?" Dazai hissed into your ear — oops, you unintentionally clenched down again upon hearing the keys jingle from the other side of the door. Luckily Dazai was ready for it this time, and managed to bite down on your shoulder before he could get a sound out.

"W-what do we do, 'samu? He’s gonna come in!" you whisper-yelled, panic settling in your bones when you saw the doorknob rattle — but before he could unlock the door fully, you heard the high pitched voice of another worker, "president! an important client has come to personally see you."

"Hm, alright. looks like i'll have to tell someone else to take a look in this room later. Let’s go,"

You let out a breath of relief once the footsteps faded away, leaving you both in complete silence until dazai decided to speak up —

"You clenched reaaal hard when he was about to open the door — don't tell me you actually wanted us to get caught, did you, naughty girl?"

⁰² 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 — having you suck him off in his office

Chuuya's job as an executive of the mafia is stressful, to say the least. Not to mention some of the idiotic workers not doing their job right never fails to make his blood pressure go especially high — his anger issues doesn't help his case at all. But what does help is his sweet sweet girlfriend giving him some... 'under the table service' at work.

Chuuya's fist slammed against the hardwood desk, a loud 'thwack!' echoing in the room,

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" he sneered at the poor man in front of him — who couldn't help but flinch at seeing his boss so angry at him failing to complete a simple report.

Truth be told, Chuuya wasn’t really that mad at the worker, for the report at least — he was just.. super on edge from you deep-throating his cock under the goddamn table. He struggled to think properly, and the poor worker interrupting his private moment with you really ticked him off. Can you really blame him though?

How could he think straight with your skilled tongue swirling around his glossy tip so sinfully — fucking tease. Oh and the way you peered up at him through lowered lashes, your eyes glazed with a dreamy haze.

It all made his head spin like crazy.

“-ir, I can re-do it if you would like me to..” Chuuya’s train of thought unfortunate got cut off short, blue eyes snapping back to the man before him — right, the report.

“A-ahem — alright. Have it finished by 6 pm.”

Chuuya hated the way his voice cracked, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands as he tried not to moan out loud when you fully took him nose deep in that right, sweet little throat— shamelessly rutting your hips into his crazy expensive slacks, rubbing your juices all over the smooth, polished material.

You felt Chuuya’s fingers entangle themselves in your hair immediately after hearing the ‘click’ of the door shutting — the guy must’ve finally left.

You couldn’t help but gasp as you were pulled up from the cold, hard floor — and being shoved onto the desk instead.

You felt your pussy throb in your lacy panties as Chuuya spread your legs open — two fingers pressing and prodding at your cunt before sliding the flimsy material to the side,

“Now, let’s get into the real fun, shall we darl’?”

⁰³ 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐎 — teaching tecchou how to eat you out properly

Jouno was a good friend. Even though he might've had a tendency to be a little harsh and.. sadistic at times, he wasn't a bad person. I mean, he had to be atleast a decent person for teaching his inexperienced co-worker how to eat pussy — specifically, his own girlfriend's.

"No, not like that you fucking idiot —" Jouno grumbled, pulling Tecchou's head off of your cunt as he blinked in confusion like a lost puppy, sticky strings of your arousal still attached to his lips. "What do you mean? She's clearly enjoying it.."

"I mean that you can do better. You do want to make her feel fuckin' amazing, don't you?" Jouno raised a questioning brow. "Well, of cour—" "Then start acting like it."

A gasp left your honeyed lips when Tecchou's face was pushed back against your cunt — hot tongue working with even more fervor as he ate you out like he had been starving for days.

"Oh fuck — feels so g-good, sai," you whimpered out — head thrown back and your tongue threatening to loll out from the sheer pleasure the man between your legs was giving you. "Yeah, baby? Feels good when Tecchou eats that sweet cunt out reaaaaal good, huh?" Jouno's tone was condescending — his lips curled up into a cocky smirk.

“Y’smell so sweet - taste so sweet -” Tecchou's voice was low and dripping with need — your pussy throbbed from just how desperate he sounded.

"A-ah shit - can feel you throbbin' on my tongue, princess —" he groaned, tongue flattening against your clit as he shook his head side to side.

You babbled out Jouno’s name like a prayer — all while the man between your legs worshipped your cunt like it was his god, pink tongue repeatedly flicking your clit, making you see stars as your hole stretched around two of his slim fingers.

“Please — wanna c-cum s’ba- mmh!- ,” you let out a strangled noise as a harsh slap landed on your soaked pussy, clit throbbing as you threw your head back once more. “Fuckin’ slut, so damn eager to cum on another man’s tongue in front of your boyfriend, hmm?”

“Don’t — ah fuck, squeezin’ so tight ‘round my fingers, baby - don’t be so mean, Jouno,” Tecchou threw a side glare to the man next to him, which only earned a shrug from said man, “quit talking and enjoy the meal, dumbass. She’s close.”

And enjoy the meal he did — lapping up every single drop of your sweet juices so enthusiastically you’d think that he hadn’t eaten in days.

⁰⁴ 𝐎𝐃𝐀 — morning sex with him

Mornings with your husband, Oda Sakunosuke, were sweet, blissful and filled with love. Sometimes he'd surprise you with breakfast in bed, it's the least he can do considering everything that you do for him, is what he says. But sometimes — you crave him instead of the delicious food.

“My pretty girl,” Oda smiled sleepily, moving some of your hair out of your face to admire your effortless beauty — blissfully unaware to how his deep morning voice made your heart flutter in your chest, and your pussy throb with need.

You grinned back, scooting closer into his arms as you gazed into his deep brown eyes, “pretty enough to fuck?”

Oda raised a questioning eyebrow, full lips curling into a grin, "oh? that's the game we're playing, love?" Strong arms wrapped around your bare figure, the marks of last night still fresh on your skin — a reminder to how he fucked you dumb on his cock only a few hours prior.

You felt your face burn from the memories of last night rushing back into you — god, you two were insatiable - you're sure Oda fucked you in every single position in the book, and it did nothing but make you crave him more.

"Still with me, darling?" he lightly tapped your cheek, snapping you back to the present. You nodded, a gasp falling from your lips as big, calloused hands found themselves groping at your tits, pinching at your cute nipples as he pressed open mouthed kisses on your neck — his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there.

"O-oda—"

"shhh, baby — lemme do all the work, yeah?"

And that's how you ended up with your face pressed into the pillows — silken bedsheets tangled around your bodies as Oda fucked his fat girth into your sopping cunt nice 'n deep.

A large hand was pressing your back into the meanest arch ever — strong hips slamming against the fat of your plush ass with each deep thrust, thick mushroom tip prodding at your g-spot - making you bleat out your husband's name pitifully. Oda only pushed your head deeper into the soft pillows — clearly too lost in the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him.

He watched his cock slipped in and out of your pussy so easily — your slick covering his balls down to his thighs. Oda groaned deeply in his throat as he watched a creamy ring form around the base of his cock — your cunt sucking him in so eagerly that he almost thought it hurt for you to let him go.

You let out a particularly loud moan as Oda's cock hit that one spot in you — you could only bite down on the pillow as your eyes shut closed, pussy slobbering shamelessly all over his length.

"Oh? Did you like— argh! - t-that spot, sweet girl?"

⁰⁵ 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 — fucking you in your sleep

Sigma was a busy man — with running the sky casino and being part of the decay of angels didn't leave too much alone time with just him and you — especially for some.. intimacy. You knew he needed to relieve himself someway — all that workload while being pent up as fuck certainly wasn't good for him. Plus, you have been craving him as well.. so you came up with an easy solution.

The door to your shared bedroom clicked open — your beloved boyfriend, Sigma, letting himself in as his eyes racked over the entire room, searching for anything out of the ordinary — you did tell him that you had a surprise for him, after all.

Upon finding nothing, he stalked over to the bed, confusion lacing his features as he glanced over at your sleeping form. Slender hands slowly slipped the soft blanket off of you and oh —

It all clicked suddenly.

The lavender coloured lace suited your complexion so perfectly, the expensive material hugging your features like it was made for you. Sigma gulped, eyes fixating on the way your tits were practically spilling out of the flimsy fabric — your stiff nipples very much visible to his hungry gaze.

It wasn't long before he had his face buried between your plush thighs — Sigma was so desperate, not even bothering to take the lingerie off your body. Besides, why would he when you just looked way too good in it?

He was practically eating you out through the thin lace — nose bumping against your clothed clit as his tongue tried to push deeper into your cunt. You had him in a chokehold — but he couldn't care less.

Sigma's slim hips were rutting into the expensive sheets — precum leaking from his sensitive tip as he tried his best not to cum untouched just from tasting your sweet pussy, but fuck, you were making it so hard for him.

He felt his cock throb in his pants when you started letting out soft moans and sighs in your sleep — or were you even asleep anymore? He didn't know and neither did he care — mind too focused on making you cum on his pretty face.

"ohh s-shit — best surprise - sluurrp - e-ever—" he whined into your cunt, spitting directly into your sticky hole before slurping it all back up.

Safe to say, he definitely enjoyed your little surprise.

© 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ do not copy/translate/repost and/or recommend any of my works on different platfroms under any circumstances. reblogs greatly appreciated !

[moyazaika]

omg doe brought up this AMAZINGGG idea abt the crime lord yan and his lawyer darling hello hey hi!!!!!!

this kinda got away from me because it is 3am but i nEEEEEDED to get this out bjsjsjjs i blame @carnivorousyandeere

i know i wrote the initial dynamic for his darling to be his lawyer, in that they’re on his side in court to keep him from getting sent to prison BUT BUT BUT hear me out T_T

lawyer darling who put yan kingpin away.

as in ,, you are the reason he was found guilty. you are the one, when the judge announced the final verdict, that his gaze turned to and that he smiled for, then. sentenced to death, before it was appealed to multiple life sentences; the beginning of the end of his empire.

you, you, you — the cause of his downfall.

after the infamous internationally documented case, your career soars to unprecedented heights. you’re the lawyer on every newspaper in every country, all the tv channels and glossy magazines. every law school wants you to speak at their graduation ceremonies. every firm’s reaching out to you. the whole world knows your name; you have everything!

—so why do you keep going back to the man who now has nothing?

the kingpin looks the same as he did that fateful day in court. only now, there’s bags under his eyes, and a five o clock shadow on his jaw; lips still curled in an easygoing smile. he laughs when he sees you, as if the two of you were merely old friends who hadn’t caught up in a while.

as if you’re not visiting him years later in the city’s most high security prison.

he grins. “come to gloat, have ‘ya?”

“you’ve committed countless crimes.” you state. “stolen lives and livelihoods. broken up families. killed good men. and still, all these years later, no remorse?”

“don’t get ‘yer panties in a twist,” he huffs, lazily leans back in the rickety prison chair so that he’s swinging it back and forth on its back legs, like a child. how absurd that even the garish orange uniform of a prison should suit him, “comes with the job description, don’t it?”

“i think about you,” you admit, eyeing the chains that bind his handcuffed hands to the desk in front of him. you look up, meet his gaze through the thick, dirty pane that separates you from him. keeps you safe. out of his reach, if only just.

a low whistle. “you sure know how to make a man feel special, y’know. been followin’ your cases. never put another one like me away, did ‘ya?” he grins. “i like that i’m special. makes me feel all warm ‘nd fuzzy inside.”

“wow,” you let out. “you really have gone insane.”

“always been a ‘lil crazy! like i said, part of the job description. though i’ve been thinkin’ recently,” he starts.

your fascination prompts you to lean closer. a sort of morbid curiosity that yearns to solve the puzzle of his twisted mind, slot the pieces you’ve already got in a way that makes them fit. you’ve got this weird feeling that you’re missing something. a big piece, maybe. one of the central ones.

“thinking about what?” your voice is barely above a whisper, almost conspiratorial. he leans in, too, all wide eyes—

—and then he jerks forward with the chains around the cuffs on his wrists pulled taut as he suddenly yanks them all the way, like a feral dog pulling on its leash. he looks like one, too, with that glint in his eyes.

“fuck!”

you barely even register that you’re on the floor until he laughs, low in his throat. he makes a vague gesture to your chair, toppled over on its side.

“oops.” he says, coyly. “didn’t mean to scare ‘ya.”

“liar,” you hiss, standing up to dust yourself off. this was stupid. why would you even entertain the idea of a civil conversation with a madman?

he gasps dramatically. “this is slander, your honour!”

“i’m leaving,” you scoff. “i don’t even know why i even came down here. you’re clearly fucking crazy.”

“and you’re no fun!” he pouts. “how ‘bout you stay just a little longer and i’ll make it worth ‘yer time, pretty please?”

“no can do,” you turn on your heels and reach for the door, fingers curled around the handle as you spare him one final glance over your shoulder— “have fun rotting in here for the rest of your life, psycho.”

—except the door won’t open. you try again, and again once more. the handle won’t budge. an awful sense of urgency overcomes you as you desperately shake the handle in a futile attempt to get it to just—

“funny ‘yer calling me crazy, ‘cus einstein once said real insanity is doin’ the same thing,” he beams. “over and over and over and over again, and expecting different results. door’s locked, lovely. ‘yer not getting out from there, ‘m afraid.”

you turn back then, still holding onto that door like a lifeline. he’s standing up, rubbing sore wrists that are, you realise with a sinking feeling, no longer bound by the handcuffs that kept him chained; on a short leash, like a good dog.

“what are you doing…?” your voice shakes, and it’s a far cry to the headstrong, unwavering lawyer who put the world’s most notorious criminal behind bars. “what the fuck—”

“i told you i’d make it worth your while t’stay,” he rolls up his sleeves, before pushing all of his hair (longer and greasier than the last you saw him) out of his face, features set in a determination you’ve never glimpsed before. familiar eyes twinkle with mischief. “and i meant it, y’know. the world’s very best lawyer came so far to see me! least i can do is greet ‘em properly.”

“‘cus see, the other prisoners wouldn’t be so nice. but i’ve been thinkin’ about you too.” he pulls his arm back and his fist comes flying at the pane. “don’t wanna have a conversation or nothin’ like that, nah, we talked enough.”

“you’ve been thinking about me, i’ve been waiting around for you…” bloody knuckles against cracks in the one barrier that is keeping you safe from him. you watch, helpless, as it threatens to break beneath the brute force of his trained fists.

“now let me just come over there,” he pulls his arm back again, ready to strike; knuckles raw and red, like the maniacal grin carved onto his pretty, flushed face. a deep blush and a shaky smile as those fists bring it all crashing down. “and show you how much i missed my faaavourite lawyer in the whole wide world.”

“—that be a good enough reason to stick around?” he asks slyly, before catching himself. “oh, silly me.” he shakes his head, apologetically, as he steps over broken shards on the floor, tainted with his blood. “doesn’t matter what ‘ya say.” a low hum when scarred hands reach out for you. “i waited so long for you…”

“… so, let’s make up reaaalllll good for all that lost time, okay?”

[omaano]

How about we don’t make me feel things before lunch, @dukeoftheblackstar, huh?

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE- L. HOWLETT

Pairing: Possesive! Boyfriend! Logan x Fem! Reader (grumpy x sunshine)

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Logan is always possesive of you, making sure the whole world knows you're his. He especially makes it known when any man tries to flirt with whats his.

Warnings: SMUT, possesivness, size kink, pet names, daddy kink, mocking? kink, dom Logan, mirror sex, swearing, implied violence/ death

"heartbreak is one thing, my egos another- i beg you don't embarass me motherfucker.."- please x3, sabrina carpenter

“Please Logan. Please, please, please just behave tonight.” you begged, pouting your lip as you gazed up at him with puppy dog eyes. It wasn’t often you had to beg Logan for anything.

He always gave you everything you wanted, no questions asked.

New purse? Chanell bag was waiting for you on the table when you arrived home. New shoes? He helped you pick them out, making you walk over to him seductively before perching you on his lap.

Anything you wanted, you got. Except for Logan behaving himself.

The older man was not known for being… caring.

To anyone but you, of course.

Where the sunshine lingered over your head like a halo, his stormcloud trailed behind at an arm's distance.

He was jealous… no, possessive. If a man stared at you for a second too long, he was no longer a man, but a boy sprawled on the ground with blood gushing out of his nose, ears and eyes. A violent, cold shouldered man with a harsh military past, but to you he would give the world on a silver platter if he could.

Which is exactly why he was dressing up for an event he very much did not want to go to- for your sake.

You stood on your tiptoes to adjust his tie, smoothing out his crisp, white undershirt that highlighted his strong arms. You wanted to kiss them.

“That's all I’m askin baby.” you pouted again, placing a gentle kiss to his neck as he bent down to your level.

“Now would I ever embarrass my girl?” he asked teasingly, brushing a warm, calloused thumb across your cheek, careful not to mess up the makeup you had so delicatly applied sitting on the bathroom vanity for hours.

“Hmm. Well sometimes someone gets a lil possessive..” you trailed on, his eyebrow cocking in amusement.

“AmI not allowed to protect my princess? There's so many terrible men out there you know baby.. That just wanna take my girl away from me.” he mocked your pout, guiding you around to face the standing mirror adorned with little lights around it, to “highlight your beauty” he had told you.

They glowed softly, pulsing against your skin as he leaned down, placing a kiss on your neck- the same place you had to him- only his tugged at your skin, just a little longer.

“And we don't want that now do we?”

Your panties damped at his condescending tone. God, why did his posessiveness turn you on so fucking much? You were adding fuel to the fire.

“No, but it's just a gala Lo. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“I’m always protecting my girl.” he snarled, hands gripping your hips, giving them a squeeze over your velvet red dress, draping across your body like a Greek goddess. It was one of Logans favourites. Of course, he said that about everything you did, and did not wear.

You thought it was fitting for the event, supposedly just a “mingle and drink” was what Charles had said. A good way to connect with other mutants from other parts of the world. It was important to him, so you wanted to make sure it ran as smoothly as possible.

“You look so fucking beautiful. Fuck.” he murmured, running his hands up and down your body, tickling your skin. “You make me think such dirty, dirty thoughts princess.”

“Oops.” you giggled, feeling a bulge against your backside, rubbing against the fabric. You hated to leave him high and dry, but Charles would kill you if you were late.

It would cause Logan to be on edge even more so then he was, but if he had it his way, you’d constantly stay in his bed.

“Now we gotta go. Oh- and, no guns, no claws.” you scolded, shimming out of his grasp to snatch up your handbag, stuffing the contents that had spilled out back inside messley.

“Hgmp.” he grumbled, reaching for your outstretched hand, trailing after you to walk into his own personal internal hell. If it meant he could support you, and even just see you- he would do it.

Not without a slight fuss though, to make you pity him.

“Don’t think about it Lo. Charles wants this to go perfectly… and I’m just-”

“Hey. hey, I’m just teasing you baby. I promise, I’ll be on my best behaviour, I wanna be there for you. But if any man tries it…” He stopped you, turning you back against the doorframe, his palm in your cheek, stroking it lovingly.

You met his eyes, soaking in their gentle gaze he only revealed to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You just want an excuse to show off your hot date.” you teased, smiling softly.

He laughed, squeezing you close to his chest. You breathed in his cologne, smelling strongly of whisky and pine needles. It made you drunk, intoxicating you like white wine.

“You caught me there.” 

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

“Fashionably late” is what Logan called it, when you strolled into the ballroom of the old, castle-like manor, nearly twenty minutes past. You had urged him to pick up the pace, but he had distracted you with his lips whenever you tried to protest.

He had listened to you however, when you begged him not to mess up your makeup, only tugging on your lip with teeth instead of smearing it with his thumb.

Smiling meekly at Charles with your hair slightly out of place, you wiggled your way through the crowd, familiar and unfamiliar faces poking out at you.

You waved to Storm, smiling as she flirted with a mutant from out of town. Soaking in her shimmering silver dress, you gave her a big thumbs up, mouthing “you look so good!”, earning a stifled giggle from her as the man continued his conversation.

Logan watched you like a hawk from the side of the room, acting as a bodyguard. He seemed to sneer at anyone who you didn’t know get too close to you, even if they were just passing by.

He had showed up for you, so you let him sulk. It was the least you could do. You paid him no mind, occasionally looking over to see him nursing a whisky on the rocks in a fancy glass, adjusting his jacket as Rouge talked to him.

Giving him a little soft wave, you turned, bumping right into an unfamiliar face.

“Oh, my apologies- I should’ve watched where I was going.” you reassured, giving a curt nod and smile. You took a step, Charles popping into view- only an arms reach away.

“Hey, no worries. I hope I didn’t mess up your beautiful dress.” the stranger smiled, eyeing you up. It made you shiver in discomfort. “Oh thank you.” You tried to be as polite as you could be- hoping the conversation would end as quickly as it started.

“What’s your name?” he asked. “Oh- uh… Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m-”

“She doesn't care who you are.” a low voice growled, Logan slipping in front of you, shielding you from the stranger.

You could see the back muscles ripple through his tight jacket, threatening to tear in two. He must have sniffed out your immediate discomfort. You were grateful for it, as the hungry stares the man gave you made you uneasy.

“Woah bud. Chill out, I’m just saying hello.”

“You’re making my girl uncomfortable. And anyone who makes my girl-” he emphasised those two words. “-uncomfortable, gets fucked up.”

You felt Charles stare at the back of your head, and you frantically tried to pull him back before he threw a punch and made a scene. “Lo- let's go, lets just let it go.”

He snarled at the man, making him tremble slightly, trying to hide his discomfort the same way you had just done for him.

“I would listen to your girl.” he mocked.

“You shut the fuck up.” you snapped, stepping out from behind your guard dog of a boyfriend- finger right in his face. “I shouldn't even give you the time of day, you perv. I know what you're thinking about- and I would never be with you. Never in a million years.” you spat, turning sharply on your heel, not looking to see if anyone followed.

You felt heads turn as you strutted out of the ballroom, Charles being one of them.

He was a pervert. I’m getting some air. You telepathically told Charles, stomping towards an empty office down the hall- letting the door slam behind you. I understand, and I’ll take care of him, if Logan doesn't before me. He murmured, voice slipping from your mind as quick as it came.

You leaned against the mahogany desk, taking a deep breath. Trying to compose yourself, you unzipped your dress just a tad, to give yourself more room to take deeper breaths.

A moment later, you heard loud footsteps stomp down the hall, Logan appearing from behind the closed door he opened. His eyes glinted with anger- a hunger and possessiveness that had you squeezing your thighs together.

The lock clicked, and within two strides he towered in front of you. “Lo-”

He kissed you so hard you swore you tasted coppery blood coat your bottom lip, and you moaned into his mouth. Melting into his touch, his hands held your neck- not letting you go anywhere, before hiking you up in his arms.

Office supplies were pushed to the side clattering to the ground as you were perched at the edge of the desk, legs wrapping around Logan tightly.

“Youre so fucking hot when you get like that. So worked up, letting that lil cat out to scratch.”

He growled in your mouth, hand slipping down to grab your ass, smacking it hard. “Mghm f-fuck Logan, he just made me so angry… and you protected me like always..”

“That man is not gonna make it tomorrow when I’m done with him.” he promised, and you felt heat rise in your cheeks at his claims.

“You’re mine. Mine, and fuck I’m gonna make sure you leave this room with everyone knowing that princess.”

“Lo- need y’so bad..” you whined, hand slipping down his chest to tug at the button of his dress pants. His bulge taunted you, and a hiss escaped from his lips as you grazed it through the fabric.

“Ya? You need me baby? Come and take me then, my big, strong girl.” he murmured, letting you pull him out of his confinements, the sheer size making your mouth water.

You never got tired of him, never got over how big he was. You struggled to tug your dress fully off, and he chuckled at the sight of you.

“So desperate hm? Need help?”

“N-no.” you mumbled, finally finding a way to shimmy it down. You wasted no time with the extras- simply pulling your thong to the side, as you guided him near your entrance.

“Your hands are so tiny on my cock baby. All of you is just so tiny, you need to be protected, hm?”

You nodded mindlessly, sighing in relief as he slid his cock up and down through your soaked folds, before sliding in and hitting home. Your mouth popped open with an O- as he never fully slid fully in without guiding it in slowly first.

He was needy tonight. You both were.

“Oh fuck baby. Fuck.”

You squeezed your legs around his waist, pulling him in tighter, trying your best to fuck yourself on him. It wasn't as good as what he did to you. You needed him.

“You poor lil thing. You need some help, you need daddy to fuck ya princess?”

You nodded, moaning as his hand found its way around your neck, squeezing softly as he pulled out, then back home- hips snapping at a rough pace that had you seeing stars.

You couldn't help but let the noises escape you- trying so hard to stay quiet but they slipped out, mixing with the slap of skin.

“Yeah let it all out baby. Let them all hear how good I fuck you. How you're mine, and no one else's.”

You looked into his eyes widely, as they started to fog over with pure pleasure. He hugged your gummy walls like a glove, his grunts and praises spurring you on. You couldn't help but look down, watching the way his cock slid deep inside you, the outline poking through your stomach.

“Lo- you’re so big.”

“And you're so tight, baby. You like lookin at how well you take me? Look over there.” he nodded his head over to the right, where a full length mirror stood.

You turned your head, watching as he rammed into you, pushing your legs up across his big, beefy shoulders, bending you to his will. His eyes met yours in the reflection, a cruel smirk forming on his lips as you gasped and whimmered his name as he fucked you.

“Such a pretty princess.” he whispered, hoping everyone could hear you.

Knowing those noises you made were because him- for him, and only him.

[osaemu]

i am a strong believer in soft and sweet gojo. when he tries being mean during sex, the tears on your face and the muffled cries make him fold so fast. he’d stop so fast and lean down to hug you and whisper so many praises and apologies in your ear. oooooooh my god i have a gigantemasorous praise kink it’s so gross please i just wanna be called a good girl and be treated like a princess :(((

PRAISE KINK: SATORU GOJO

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: he can't help but go soft when you look up at him through teary eyes. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. p –> v, creampie, praise kink (shocking), cockwarming, unprotected sex, dacryphilic themes, squirting, teeny tiny size kink. halfway through i changed the plot and this ended up way longer than i expected oops!

"good girl, stay just like that f'me," satoru mumbles, white hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at you. his thrusts grow sloppier the closer he gets to cumming inside of you, and the cute way you look up at him through unfocused eyes just pushes him over the edge. "f-fuck, makin' me cum faster than a vi—"

satoru doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence before his orgasm hits him, fast and hard, and his cum shoots out of him in a thick, hot load deep inside of your welcoming cunt. both your chests heave as satoru collapses on top of you, resting his body on his forearms and his forehead on yours. "heh, good job, princess," he exhales, closing his eyes and letting his lips curve into a smile.

"y'did so go— aw, wait, are you cryin'?" satoru breathes, eyes fixed on the messy tears that fall down your cheeks. he slows his relentless pace inside of you to a stop and lifts a hand to wipe away your tears, fingers light and gentle against your wet face. "c'mon, don't cry, baby, y're makin' me feel bad."

"s-sorry," you mumble, voice shaking just enough for satoru to notice. he tuts and kisses your cheek, lips lingering just underneath your eye.

"you did so good, pretty girl," satoru murmurs, lowering his body and lying down on top of you. his face is barely a couple centimeters away from yours, and as he lowers himself, you swear can feel his dick slide in all the way. "shhh, lemme take care of you," he coos when a soft moan slips out of your lips. "does it hurt?"

"a little," you whisper, looking up at satoru through wet eyes. he smiles tenderly back down at you, peppering kisses all over your warm face. his hips rest on top of yours, and every little shift of his body feels like an avalanche in yours—satoru's heavy, especially when you're already weak from an hour of sex in his sheets.

"you're so cute," satoru mumbles, lips touching the corner of your mouth. "n' so pretty, too..." his mouth finds yours and he kisses you slowly, hands involuntarily finding themselves all over you. satoru doesn't bother attempting to speak anymore as he just takes you and all your beauty in—to him, the whole world is less than nothing in this moment compared to you.

satoru lifts his head to let you breathe, a playful smile on his lips the longer he looks at you. "aw, princess, why're you still crying?" he tuts when another tear falls down your cheek. "was i that mean? m' sorry, baby, don't cry, please?"

"snf, it's not you," you sniffle, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. but the second one tear's gone, another trails down your face to replace it. "i.. i don't know why m' crying," you try to explain, but the way satoru tilts his head like a confused puppy shows that your efforts are futile.

"c'mere," he rolls over onto his back and pulls you on top of him, dick still lodged deep inside you. satoru's head falls back onto a plush, white pillow as he lifts one hand to caress the side of your face. "'m not gonna let you cum until you stop cryin', baby."

"why not?" you ask petulantly, thighs starting to tremble from how deep satoru is. even when he's not trying to drive you crazy, he still manages to with how little he's moving now. he already got to cum—in fact, most of his cum is still inside of you, held there by his unmoving dick.

"'cause i'm gonna think you hate me."

"i don't hate you."

"then stop crying."

"fine," you huff, a tiny smile starting to grow on your face.

satoru matches your smile with one of his own and he nods in approval. "aw, you're so pretty when you smile like that f'me," he coos, eyes rounding as if he's looking at the cutest thing in the world—which, to him, is you. "stay like that n' i'll let you cum, 'kay?"

he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and nudges you off of him and onto your back, switching positions with you. satoru pulls out of you, cock glistening with a mixture of your slick and his cum before he plunges back inside and fills the empty space inside of you.

"t-toru—" you mewl out, thighs unconsciously clenching together before satoru pushes them apart again.

"shhh, be a good girl and—fuck, jus' like that," he groans, feeling your cunt clench around him with every thrust. a breathy laugh slips out of satoru's lips, a welcome addition to the wet, pornographic sounds coming from the two of you. "shit, baby, you fuck me up in ways you can't even fuckin' imagine," satoru mumbles, too lost in your shiny, dumbed-down eyes to form coherent thoughts.

with every thrust, satoru sinks deeper and deeper into your welcoming cunt, cursing and moaning about how good you take him. you're not really sure how long it takes for the coil in your stomach to snap—maybe seconds, minutes, even years—but it comes all at once, hitting you with the force of a wave and any remaining self-control you have dissolves.

you babble satoru's name over and over again, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes as he talks you through it—in fact, you're practically getting off to the sound of his soft praises. "fuck, you're so cute, keep takin' me like the good girl i know you are," he groans, lips curled into a drunken smile. "gonna cum on me, baby? c'mon, use your words, i know y'can."

it's a miracle that he can keep running his mouth even as he gives you the best orgasm of your life—but somewhere in the hot fog that's your mind, you manage to gasp out a "yeah" amid satoru's increasingly sloppy thrusts. it feels like he's chasing his own pleasure more than yours, but you don't mind, because a moment later you're squirting all over his throbbing cock and holding onto him as if he's your lifeline.

"yeah, jus' like that, princess, you're so—" satoru cuts himself off with another laugh, chest heaving and eyes wild. he brushes his thumb underneath your swollen lips and wipes the little trail of drool. "fuck, what are you doing to me?" he mumbles, kissing you breathlessly, hardly caring whether or not either of you could breathe.

satoru watches as your eyes flutter shut and runs his thumb over your bottom lip. "heh, pretty girl, you did so good f'me," he whispers, a soft smile on his lips as he gazes down at you. "sleep well, you earned it..."

[solbaby7]

I love your work, and I’ve been creeping on your master list and it’s so good 😭❤️❤️❤️… pls do one with Azriel and AFAB reader who finds out first that they’re true mates but says nothing at all, too scared that he’ll reject her cause he’s in love with Elain and she witnesses the whole necklace gifting/almost kiss between them and runs away, tries to avoid both of them for days and gets sick or injured or something and that’s when Az realizes it too and smut ensues 🫶😭❤️

Since You Have A Lover

pairing : azriel x afab!reader

warnings: angst babe, torture too (oops👀🤣), not proofread, swearing, probs typos, mild smut at the end, testing out the longer fics and then we’re gonna figure out if longer or shorter is better 🫣

thank you for the request bean! i switched it up a little to add some much needed angst but i’m so happy you’ve been enjoying 💗💗

oh and…educate a girl. wtf is afab?👀 respectfully ofc

—

Deep breaths and a lowered gaze is how you make it through family dinners as your stomach lurches uncomfortably.

The feeling never got easier, even after months of enduring the debilitating emotions that ensued from watching your mate love another.

It’s instinctual to be jealous—to compare yourself to Elain when Azriel refused to tear his eyes away. He was supposed to be your equal and yet the longer dinner went on with overhearing their hushed conversation and not-so-sneaky touches under the table; you felt anything but suitable in comparison.

Drowning those thoughts is surprisingly easy, a plethora of wine bottles are scattered about the table and not a single person bats an eye when you snatch one up for yourself. They’re too caught up in each other to realize you’ve slipped away; abandoning the suffocating love that permeated from every direction besides your own.

Fresh air helps a little, the stolen bottle of wine aiding in keeping you warm from the unforgiving nighttime chill. Eventually the cool bite doesn’t send shivers down your spine and you barely even flinch when bare skin meets cold stone, your gaze dipping down to lively town below.

Time moves too quickly as the observer, seconds bleeding into minutes until hours have passed and the bottle has nothing left to offer. There’s a brief moment where your foggy brain contemplates the effort it would take to retrieve another when your solitude is broken.

Two bodies burst through the balcony doors on the furthest side, mostly concealed by trees and flowers but you’d recognize those wings anywhere. A hand smacks over your mouth to conceal any sound, body freezing in place as you witness Azriel press Elain into the wall, his hands cradling the sides of her face lovingly.

A part of you shatters when you catch that sparkle in his eye, the eagerness in his movement to have her closer until her cheeks go flush and thick lashes flutter closed in preparation for the sweet kiss Azriel is sure to grant her.

You’re unable to stomach another moment and neither of them even flinch when you shuffle from your spot and make a bee-line for the exit. Tears cloud your vision, shoulders shaking and steps unsteady as you all but run through the halls, darting up the stairs and colliding right into another body. “Oh,” The startled sound is all but whimpered out of you and red eyes and splotchy cheeks are the first thing Nesta sees as you look up. “Gods, I’m sorry.” You scramble to your feet, retrieving the book she’d dropped in the collision. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching here I was going.”

“That’s not like you.”

A weak smile quirks at the corner of your mouth, unbound hair in unruly strands down your shoulders. “I’m not quite myself at the moment.”

Nesta hums in response, slender arms crossing over her chest and the fabrics of her nightgown shifts with the motion. Her gaze is scrutinizing, picking apart the truth from the lies and you’re infinitely grateful that she doesn’t call you out on your state of disarray. “Want me to walk you to your room?”

“No.” You whisper, hastily wiping your cheeks and attempting to smooth down stray hairs and wrinkled silks. “No, I think I’m going to go for a walk instead. I could use the fresh air.”

“It’s three in the morning.”

Nesta's neck cranes, slowly turning on the balls of her feet as you swiftly slip past her and make way for your chambers. Perhaps, it's the defeated slump of your shoulders that catches Lady Death's attention; that emptiness in your eyes that couldn't even be filled by the overflowing tears that stained your cheeks.

She considers waking Cassian--he always was better equipped to handle the emotions of others but you're already gone, disappearing behind the door without even saying goodnight. Something about the interaction forces her to linger, smutty book long forgotten as she waits to see you creep out that same room ten minutes later.

You're dressed to better accommodate the weather now. Thick leathers insulating body heat while subconsciously providing much needed compression--the tight fabric mimics comfort in its attempt to hold together the broken bits of you shoved inside.

Nesta's lips part, a million possible words resting at the tip of her tongue but you're quick to intercept, tone numb and alarmingly empty. "Don't wait up."

--

Being alone was supposed to be relaxing.

Distracting, at the very least.

But, all you could feel was the cool prickle of awareness at the back of your neck the whole time you sat at the edge of the mountains that overlooked the Sidra. Each time you'd slow your breathing and attempt to regulate the unusual beat of your heart with the captivating view of Velaris at night. While most were inside, the homes that resided there were full of life; lights glowing golden through their windows, laughs ebbing through the woodwork and creating a sense of serenity that refuses to wash over you as well.

Eyes narrow, shoulders squaring and fingers twitch for the sharp daggers strapped to your thighs. The thick trees you’d come through seems far less attractive now, branches craning out like grabbing hands with gaps of murky darkness that resembled giant mouths waiting to swallow you up. “Nesta?”

The chuckle that breaks through the clearing is anything but feminine. “Not quite.”

It happens too fast--the hand that smacks over your mouth to mute the startled scream that rips free. You push against the solid wall of a body stationed behind you, attempting to sway his stability in order to break free but a sharp sting in your neck renders you still.

The burn that follows is instant and before you can stop it, the unforgiving darkness becomes all you know.

--

The palpable tension at breakfast is suffocating.

Azriel's seething brood casts angsty shadows along his strong build, creating a visible wall between himself and his High Lord after the stern conversation he was forced into the night before. It runs on repeat in the shadow singers mind, the order given to back off on his affections towards the middle Archeron sister.

It seems cruel. A sick form of punishment that Azriel can't quite wrap his mind around because who was really in charge of the tragectory of his life? Azriel ? Or his High Lord?

The mere thought has his teeth grinding in silent contempt, his gaze flickering around the table before landing on the bare spot directly across from him. His brows furrow, confusion briefly sweeping away the rage as he considers the time--your usual schedule and the words leave his mouth before he can stop them. "Where is she?"

A brief pause, the casual conversation slowing to a halt until Azriel catches a glimpse of something on Nesta's face--a strain of guilt he'd seen a million times on a trillion different faces. "Left earlier this morning." Polished silverware scrapes at fine china, pushing aside food that her body refuses to indulge in. "Said she was going for a walk."

Discontentment settles into Azriel's bones--a feeling he struggles to understand and Nesta's answer only exasperates the unsteady sensation.

"In this weather?" Grey clouds are thick in the sky, shades of slate and granite completely masking the sun as relentless rains pour down from above. "When was this?"

"Around three."

Cassian swears lowly from beside his mate, a sturdy hand resting at her shoulders but the regret lacing his features speaks plenty about the decision to stay quiet for so long. It was too dangerous, especially after the last few meetings Rhys had with Kier in Hewn. Change took time and the Steward and his men were complaining about that change taking too long. Hateful words were thrown in the name of the people of Hewn City and how they had desires too; dreams of a better world for themselves and their children but the High Lord’s better judgement rose question to the other consequences that could arise from giving what they were asking for. "Ness that was nearly eight hours ago."

The screech of Azriel's chair draws attention, a sudden boost of fuel being injected in his veins. "Did she tell you where she was going exactly?"

Nesta’s tone turns into vitriol, a subconscious reaction to the guilt that gnawed at her bones for not seeking for you sooner after finding you in your state. The reminder of tears streaming down your face flashes behind her eyelids; the choppiness of your words through labored breathing. How desperately you’d attempted to wrangle it together just long enough to make it to your room and suddenly the eldest Archeron feels that familiar uselessness creep beneath her skin. “She didn’t leave me a map with a drawn out route—she just said she needed air.”

“While crying?” It wasn’t intentional, Rhysand seeing the flash of memory that Nesta had unknowingly projected; her mental walls caving for just a fraction of a minute before the iron doors had regained their formidable security. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Silverware clatters against the table, staining table linen in strawberry jam but no one seems to give a shit when the severity of the situation behinds to settle over the room. Nesta runs a hand against the material of her dress, smoothening out wrinkles and creases in order to avoid all of the eyes settling over her face. “I was just going to the library to read and we bumped into each other. She came from the balcony—I offered to walk her to her room but she just…” A sigh pulls free, jaw setting tightly. “I let her go.”

“Nesta.” Feyre’s slow shake of her head holds enough disappointment to have Nesta’s shoulders squaring on the defensive.

“I’m not some evil bitch, I waited up!” She seethes, the beginnings of those silver flames lapping at the steely grey of her eyes but the fight within isn’t truly directed towards Feyre or anyone else but herself. Because she’d felt the exact moment that you walked from the doors and winnowed away, that she’d made a grave mistake. Nesta’s shoulders sag, fingers bunching unforgivingly into the inky linen cloth until she felt the tips of her nails digging into the polished mahogany underneath. “I waited.”

Azriel’s already out of the room without a word.

He didn’t have a right to shame her because Azriel had a feeling he knew what sent you running.

His teeth grind together when thinking back to the night before when he and Elain had scuffled off onto the balcony at the witching hour; hoping their sins would be shielded by the dark cast of night. Too caught up in one another to consider another already occupying the space.

And, no matter how many times Azriel brushed his fingertips over the soft curve of Elain’s cheeks or vyed for a fleeting touch when passing in the hallways—the kiss he thought he wanted lacked the spark he was sure would flicker to life when lips grazed.

He’d pulled away so abruptly, brows furrowing in a stark line discontentment that was visible to anyone with eyes and then he heard the broken whimper of a gasp.

It’s been too easy to pass it off as Elain and far easier for him to forget about it altogether after Rhysand had found an embarrassed Elain rushing back to her room with flushed cheeks and an unsteady gait. He’d never heard his brother shout so loud, the veins in his neck protruding as he ordered Azriel to never even look her way again. That if a quick fuck in the dead of the night was what he desired then Azriel should wander along the cobblestone streets of Velaris and find himself a suitable pleasure house and pay for it.

The words act as fuel, Azriel’s senses working on overdrive; shadows scrying for information faster than ever before until they’d returned with something he could work with.

Dropped neatly in his palms were the cool steel of your twin blades that never left the secure holsters forever strapped to your thighs.

And they were soaked in your blood.

—

You recognized the suffocating dank smell that tended to fester when stuffed so far beneath the earth—the perfect dungeon.

One you’d been in countless times before, wearing that shadowy mask of indifference when masquerading as the soulless monster that became necessary to survive while in Hewn City. It took decades of assistance by Azriel’s side; an apprentice of sorts when the bounds of your affections had just begun testing its limits—wondering to see just how far you’d go just to be near him.

To get him to notice you. Your mate. Yours. Yours.

All of that seems so foolish now. Insignificant compared to the dire situation you’d found yourself entangled in.

Sharp twinges of pain throb up your neck, aches settling in from the uncomfortable position and it’s a strain when you shift in attempts to take in your surroundings. Fear lurches in your chest when your hands don’t move, restrained by chains that had you hung up like a prized hog after a fresh hunt.

Not good. Not good. Not good. So, not good.

“I always did love that look.” Immediately your spine goes ramrod straight, fingers clenching into fists over the cool bite of the chains as that voice washed over you like a bucket of water. Refreshing on your own terms and a horrible wake up call when it wasn’t. “When panic shifts into realization—truly a sight worth capturing. Especially when attached to such a delicate disposition.”

Delicate?

You’d never once used that word in ordinance to yourself.

Hearing it now, under such circumstances makes your heart lurch, it’s beat untamed against your ribcage and it takes every bit of strength left to smooth that look of utter calm across your features. “Come a little closer, let me show you how sweet I can get.”

The underlying threat is easily palpable and Kier is wise not to follow the bait; aware of the wounded animals ability to put up a considerable fight and he’s too coward to brawl fairly. “As tempting as that is, it won’t be me who plays with you tonight.” Your teeth bare into a snarl, pure promise rumbling from your chest and the sound encourages a chuckle from the male.

He’s not close enough to injure; to swing the brunt of your weight around for a well-timed kick that you knew would disable long enough to figure a way out of these damn restraints. But even with the distance between you, the resemblance between this male and Mor was striking. She’d inherited the shape of his lips, even if the words she spoke were far sweeter than the shit spewed from her predecessor. More similarities are spotted during your scrutinizing evaluation of him; the line of his nose, the shade of his hair, the confident air that oozed from his form—no matter how misplaced it was.

“I’ll kill anyone who dares lay a finger on me.”

“So much fight in you,” Kier all but croons, his eyes raking across your body in a way that was less than savory. “I can’t wait to see how long it lasts.”

Breathe.

Years of training beside the spymaster had prepared you for this very moment and it’s easier to drift back into the memory of just another session; before things had gotten so complicated and he’d just been a friend eager to teach if you were willing to learn. Countless times you’d been in a similar situation—you, waking up tied up to some chair with ropes securing every possible joint in place and Azriel would leave you there as long as it took for you to figure your way out of it.

Allow the thrum of your heart be the beat that keeps you focused.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Relax and take in your surroundings. Notice things no one else thinks is important because that could be the one thing that keeps you from an untimely death.

The cell wasn’t very large, four stone walls covered in grime and mildew with just enough space for two grown men to fit semi-comfortably. No windows. One door with a thin slot at the top large enough for two eyes to peer inside. No fire. No light. No warmth. No breeze, just stale, dank air that tasted of iron when your breathed in too deep.

Just stay alive long enough to get help.

“What do you want from me?”

Kier inhales a greedy breath, his chest expanding in the ornate armor worn. It glistens even with no light—proving that even with his privileged title, he was never the one who got his hands dirty. “Many things,” He finally confessed, the words airy and nonchalant. He’s too cocky. Too comfortable. “But first, I want you to tell me about the Cursebreakers sisters.” He dares a step closer, arms crossed casually behind his back as a dark look begins to worm its way into his eye. “I want you to tell me everything you know about the Made ones and the power they stole from the Cauldron.”

Breathe. Focus on your heart beat. Stay alive.

Breathe. Focus on your heart beat. Stay alive.

Breathe. Focus on your heart beat. Stay alive.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A smile works its way across his face—one so familiar it taints good memories with its stain. “I hoped you’d say that.” Kier walks past, the smell of his cologne burning your nostrils and you couldn’t imagine ever smelling tobacco and ash, bergamot and oakmoss without gagging ever again.

One knock on the thick steel door and slender male with hair like soot and eyes like a raven enters.

Your face remains a blank slate. Even as you take in the rubber material of his apron and the sturdy material of his leather boots. Well used gloves cover his hands and tucked under his left arm is a rawhide holder filled to the brim with all kinds of terrifying treats.

Breathe. Focus on your heart beat. Stay alive.

“Who are you?”

He takes his sweet time answering. Making a show of neatly setting down the holder and undoing the braided leather straps holding it in place. “You can call me the Butcher—everyone else does.”

“How original.” A thick swallow to quell the nerves; to shove away the shake that threatened to disturb your carefully curated cadence. The chains rattle as you shift, the tips of your toes just barely skimming the cool ground beneath you but not quite enough to relieve your wrists of the burden of bearing the entirety of your weight. “Well, Butcher—come make yourself useful and loosen my chains, will you? It’s starting to chafe a bit.”

His head shakes in his denial, barely acknowledging the departing Steward and the heavy thud of the shutting door—a lock sliding into place. “You don’t really want me to do that.” For donning such a threatening title, the Butcher is deceivingly soft-spoken. It sends your nerves into a fritz, triggering your fight or flight and for the first time since your eyes had opened and the darkness had waned; that delicately woven web of control slips from your grasp. “If you’re as stubborn as I think you are,” The sharp ring of metal twangs through the air and in his grasp is a perfectly polished knife a little too curved to be considered a scalpel. “You’ll need something to hold onto. It helps with the pain…for a time.”

Breathe.

“Then let’s just get this over with, shall we?”

Butcher chuckles low under his breath, full lips concealed by an ever fuller beard—the only thing about him that wasn’t perfectly trim and proper. “Not a fan of foreplay?”

Fingers curl around the cool bite of thick chains, your chest rising and falling in a steady pattern as you began to dissociate. An attempt to keep your mind as protected as possible from whatever was to come. “I’m more of a rip-the-bandaid kind of girl.”

Death clings to the pristinely polished rubber of his apron, the creak of his gloves filling the space as worn fingers ready around the hilt of his weapon. “You know,” Inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth. Disappear off into that numb place deep, deep within your mind. Ignore the bite of the blade poking around already sensitive wounds. “Under entirely different circumstances, I think I might’ve actually liked you.”

The switch flips so fast—too fast for you to catch but it’s impossible to miss the devastating burn that ripples through you as flesh is severed, muscle flayed and so, so much blood spilled.

It’s hard to keep track of how much time passes down here without access to windows and you’re certain that it’s intentional, aiding in the psychological aspect of their torture.

Relax and take in your surroundings. Notice things no one else thinks is important because that could be the one thing that keeps you from an untimely death.

The masculine baritone of Azriel’s teachings repeated like a mantra in your mind until it becomes the only thing distracting you from the sound of your flesh tearing, your blood drip, drip, dripping a misshapen puddle beneath you.

You force yourself to keep conscious, mentally noting anything your eyes are able to latch onto. Insignificant things; ebony hair, umber skin, a brand burned into the middle of Butcher’s left wrist in a symbol half-obscured by his gloves.

There’s a block on your powers, not quite faebane in its most lethal dose but paired with the wards humming against the walls, you knew using magic wouldn’t be an option for you. “Tell me about the Made ones and I can stop.”

“I don’t know anything.”

Just stay alive long enough to get help.

“You live there with them,” Butcher goads, crooked teeth exposed when gritted into that grimace of a sneer. Leather creaks under the playful twist of his wrist, the sharpened blade carving at muscle and obliterating sinew until you swear it reaches bone. “You share drink and food, you fight beside them in battle and you expect us to believe that secrets aren’t shared as well?” Every breath is ragged, a sheen of sweat coating your skin and unruly hair sticks to the curve of your neck. “Tell me what you know before I decide to get a little more creative in my methods.”

“Even if I did know anything, why the hell would I tell you? What would Hewn scum do with such knowledge?”

Your words have nicked a nerve, robbing the Butcher of that soft-spoken charm and replacing it with something more sinister. “You say the same thing to that bastard Illyrian you’re always seen around?”

A brow quirks, furrowing ever so slightly as it became more and more apparent that this was more than some spur of the moment kidnapping. Their questions, the desire to keep you immobile and battered but not enough to render you unconscious—not enough to be fatal. For whatever reason, they needed you alive and judging by the desperation that claws its way to the edges of Butchers voice, his curses and demands falling on deaf ears as your mind runs on overdrive to accumulate all the information you could before it was too late.

Each breath grows more labored, lashes fluttery and thick with exhaustion but just when it feel like too much—when you feel like giving up and succumbing to the sweet oblivion.

The rake of talons brushes against your mental walls. A cautious prod, testing your durability and utter relief washes over you when that feline lilt floods your consciousness. “We’re coming, just stay awake.”

The syllables barely reach your ears, sound faded by the obnoxious ringing that refused to subside—a side affect from all the fucking screaming and shouting. Swears slurring together the longer you snapped at the male before you, knees jerking and wounds barking in agony when the heel of your foot smashes so hard into his nose, his skull caves in; limp body dropping to the floor with a thud.

It’s all the strength you have in you and the death-grip you have around the chains is released all at once. Time moves in slow motion as you dangle there, vision darkening at the edges and that thrum of your heartbeat loud enough to distract you anymore. “Rhys they want— they want…”

So much blood oozes from your wounds, drenching your leathers all the way through and you were definitely feeling the affects. Your vision blurs, lids going lazy with just enough time to hear that voice—Azriel’s voice bellowing your name. “Stay alive.” He mutters over and over and over when he’s finally reached you, adrenaline pumping so high that he breaks the chains from their bolt with nothing more than his bare hands. “Do you hear me? Don’t you dare fucking die on me.”

You swear you try to obey the command, desiring nothing more than to keep Azriel's attention after finally being front and center in it. But it just felt so safe held in his grasp, tucked so close to his chest while he rids you of your restraints and applies pressure to gaping wounds.

All you wanted was one second. If you closed your eyes just for a second to gather your wits then you'd wake up and everything would be okay.

It sounds like a good idea-- so good that you allow the peace to wash over you like a cool tide washing over the shore in the early days of the burning summer; ignoring the desperate shouts from a vignette of voices that fades in the background like the haunting final notes of a song.

—

Confusion crashes at you in unforgiving waves, memories --or were they dreams?-- flash behind your lids with each blink. A dull throb pounds behind your lids, aggravating your mental shields to the point where you feel them wobble with each breath.

"You should stay still." Azriel's saying without giving you time to clear through the dense fog plaguing your mind. Instead, he busies his hands with fussing over your blankets, carefully tucking bare toes and pressing a five finger grip on your sternum when you attempt to rise from the soft cushion of a mattress that certainly did not belong to you. "It took Madja a while to get you all stitched up. Are you in pain? She left ointments and a few tinctures."

He's graceful enough not to mention the owlish blink of your eyes and their befuddled examination of his room until the crackly rasp of your voice cuts through the space; both of you refusing to address the elephant in the room. "My head hurts a little."

"Yeah," Shadows fuss with warm rags, sweeping it over your forehead and dabbing it along your cheeks while others occupy themselves with filling a glass of water to offer. "Rhys will be by later to apologize for that, I'm sure."

Your brows furrow deeply, nose scrunching when you sip your water. "Apologize for what?"

"You were in distress. We thought you were going to--" Azriel abruptly cuts himself off, fingers curling into fists at his sides. "Rhys went in your mind, said that before you'd gone unconscious that you were trying to tell him something that seemed urgent enough to bypass the usual request to wait for permission."

Your heart begins to pick up speed in your chest and suddenly the desire to rise from this bed and run away was becoming horribly intense. Legs shift under the weight of a duvet that didn't belong to you, attempting to hide the way your sore muscles sink into the overwhelming scent of night-chilled mist. "Okay...and what did he see?"

"He saw you get taken," Azriel turns his back to you, expertly avoiding your eyes but the nervous energy buzzing off his skin was unmistakable. "He watched them carve you up and torture you for information about Nesta and Elain." The stabilizing breath he takes shakes his shoulders, the strong line of muscle barely concealed by the tight stretch of his leathers--leathers still stained in the blood of those who'd spilled yours, no doubt. "Rhys said that you didn't say a word. You didn't give them a thing."

"That's good, right?" A pillow is fluffed behind you, shadows doting on every need. "Then, why do you sound so upset?"

"Why do I sound so upset?" Azriel cruelly mocks, his aurate gaze positively smoldering with rage when they land on you. "Because, you almost died! You almost died in my fucking arms before I ever got the chance to—. What the hell were you thinking?"

The beating you'd endured does nothing to quell your fiery spirit, eyes lighting with life and lips running a mile a minute—too fast for your logical brain to keep up with. "I was thinking that they wanted information on your precious, little girlfriend." You all but spit out, childishly pushing away the comfort the duvet from your legs as you attempt to shuffle from Azriel's bed without disturbing the tight wrap of your bandages. Why the hell were you in here anyway? "I was thinking that maybe, it'd be easier for them to fucking butcher me rather than watch what would happen to you if it were Elain there in my place."

Silence stretches along the hardwood floor, cloaking up the length of the walls and muting out the low crackle of the fireplace; its flame gentle and calm in the midst of an emotional storm. "I almost wish you would've let it be her." Azriel fills the void, finally mustering up the courage to face you. "I could've survived that and whatever consequences came along with it because my mate takes precedence above all."

Just like that, all the spitfire you’d prepared in retaliation absolutely dissipates after hearing those two words. “Your mate.”

Azriel doesn’t confirm with words. Instead, he searches inside for the humming gold thread wrapped taut around his ribs, just above his heart and pulls. Fucking yanking at it with all his might and something sparkles in his eye when your body jerks in retaliation.

“You know?”

“How long have you known?”

Your heartbeat hammers against your ribcage, threatening to carve out a hole if that’s what it took to get to its other half. “A while.”

“And you’ve said nothing.” He says, tone sounding almost defeated. “Why wouldn’t you have said anything?”

“Because, Az,” The shadows have seized their tireless caretaking, sliding back into place beside their master as you lose the ability to accept the tender affection. “You wouldn’t have chosen me. Not before Mor and certainly not before Elain.” You’re quick to bristle over that part, not leaving any room for the spymaster to interrupt no matter how expressive his face became. “Besides, the bond is a choice not a burden and that’s what it would’ve been for you if I spoke up about it.” Pure determination is what allows you to bear the brunt of your weight , willing yourself to appear strong in the face of the male who could render you to cinders if he so pleased. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d really like to shower the dungeon smell off of me.”

A childish whine of a noise is ripped from your throat when Azriel huffs out a breath, murmuring something about you being stubborn as hell before carefully picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom. It's embarrassing, a furious blush burning at the apples of your cheeks as he starts the shower, adjusts the temperature and slowly sets you down. "Thank you for that but you don't have to do this. I can handle cleaning myself."

"You can barely stand on solid ground on your own."

"I'll manage."

"I know. What I'm saying is that you don't have to." You nearly faint on the spot when Azriel crouches down in front of you, his hands shaky but sure when unlatching the difficult ties of your fighting leathers. His teeth grit together when the fabric is loosened and carefully worked down your thighs, over your knees and tugged away from your ankles. "Just let me help."

Azriel is nothing short of respectful, you notice. He doesn't sneak salacious peeks at the endless expanse of bare skin that he exposes. Doesn't once mention the tremble of your breath or the way your fingers seem to bite into the flesh of his arms whenever a new article of clothing is removed and dropped to the floor. Even after he's eased you into the shower stream; standing before him, perfectly presented on a soaking wet platter—he keeps his eyes trained on your face.

Shadows thicken over sensual bits, providing a shield between you and the male diligently applying soap to rag. Each drag of the slightly rough material against your skin releases a tension you hadn’t noticed you’d been carrying and all you can do is watch as he rids your skin of the thick film left behind when magic was used to clear away muck.

Eons must past before words are spoken, a this time Azriel is more intentional when he chooses them--more intimate when he relays them. "I'd always hoped for a mate. Ever since I was a boy and my mother told me stories about two halves scouring the world to finally become whole again." You're malleable under his care, pliant when he lifts your arms to scrub underneath and damn-near boneless when he turns you with slippery hands to slowly work the knots from your back. "I had always hoped that one day, I too, would find my equal." Azriel clears his throat, returning back from whatever memory he'd been sucked into but the massage doesn't stop; it only drags lower. "Then so much time had passed and I started to wonder if I couldn't find them because I wasn't being forward enough but that only lead to misplaced affections and unfulfillment."

"Azriel, I'm not sure if I really understand--"

"I felt something for you—something stronger than friendship but I pushed it away. I ignored it and looked elsewhere because I can bare not being as close with Mor and it’s as easy as breathing to never see Elain again but losing you—ruining the peace I feel when I’m with you would’ve broken me.”

Tears well in your eyes, a thickness welling in the back of your throat and your skin burns where his fingers touch, lingering near the dip of your back and just barely curling around the curve of your hips. “Az, you don’t have to say any of this to make me feel better. I just wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy.”

“Then, please don’t reject it.” His warmth ripples over every inch of you, your neck craning to make room for the forehead he helplessly drops in the crux of your shoulder. The perfect line of his nose drags along the curve of it, inhaling the soothing notes of your scent mixed with his body wash. “Don’t reject me—this is all I’ve ever wanted.” Finally his fingers curl around your hips, the grip gentle but oh, so claiming. “Can’t you feel it? This rightness.”

Raw emotion swims in the amber tones of Azriel’s eyes when you turn in his arms; searching within those rich shades to find any detection of a lie.

Not one reaches your radar.

The line of your vision drops, creeping down his nose until it fixates on the plush pink of his lips. Instinct takes over, offering a gentle nudge until the space between two is eaten up and breath becomes shared as a line was about to be crossed—a prophecy fulfilled.

When Azriel’s lips finally brush against yours, it’s like a coil snaps, unleashing an animal he hadn’t known existed. Sure, he had plenty of experience with childish crushes and boyish infatuation. But this, Cauldron, it nearly takes his breath away with its intensity—the burning desire that rips through his veins like a forrest fire.

One kiss bleeds into two hands desperate to acquaint themselves with your body until all that mattered was you, your spymaster and the sentient shadows protectively surrounding you both. “Azriel,” You all but keen in his ear, chest heaving and hips rolling into the hardness of him pressed against you.

“Mate.”

A whimper cuts through your throat, neck craning to make space for the perfect bruises he was sucking into the skin there. “I want you.”

“You have me,” He promises over the frantic beat of your heart, tongue laving over the soft fat of your breasts. “Even when my bones are rotting in the dirt, I’ll belong to you. My mate. Mine.”

[chososlittlestuttyboy]

|| anon: satosugu x drunk male reader who is shorter by 20cm ||

605 words 3,420 characters

“satoru? Suguru” you yelled out drunkly “name?! Were have you been” suguru said in worry while holding you chubby cheeks, which made you giggle “I’m sho tired….” you snuggled into sugurus chest, satoru look at you trying to figure out what to do “baby..? Are you drunk” satoru said in a soft tone “w-whattt, noooo” you tryed to lie but you just suck at lying “cmon let’s get you to the shower.. you smell like artificial fruit and vodka” suguru chuckled before picking you up “satoru come on” suguru beckoned him

~the bathroom

“Cmon baby, let go and get in the water” suguru struggled to make you let go “noo… your so warm” your cock twitched “I missed your smell” you mumbled “cmon, there extra bubbles” “get in with me…” you said to both of them “*hiccup* pleaseeee…?” You looked up at them with puppy eyes, which made both of their cocks twitch “if you insist satoru said before stripping him and suguru “yay” you said drunkly.

you snuggled in to satorus chest while moaning a mess “mph!.. nnhg….” You eyes had hearts in them, suguru was to busy stroking your poor little cock, while satoru was getting your hole ready. “Satoruuuu…! — sho gwoodd” your eyes rolled back, as soon your were about to cum, suguru pulled away! “Huh *sniff*” you looked back, suguru got closer and whispered something in your ear “only good boys get to cum.. not sluts” he said before smacking your ass “mph!!~ — s-suguru, p-please I’m so close” you moaned, trying to get suguru to let you cum, but it didn’t work.

You were slowly getting crushed by shame, you were getting fucked by your two best friends, you were knocked out of your daydreaming when suguru smacked you ass, hard “stop daydreaming, slut” he said in a rude tone “suguru..cut him some slack, I’d be embarrassed if I was getting fucked by my best friends” satoru cooed, while playing with your hair, slowly finger fucking you “mph — haah~..” you let out your cute little noices into satorus chest.

“hgnh!!!~” oops… you came all over satorus tummy, suguru looks at you “I’don’t think you fuckin heard right, slut.” Suguru says in a mean tone, before he can say anything “I—I’m sorry!” You hid your face in satorus chest “pff—it’s alright” satoru truly tried his best not to laugh, you looked up at satoru “please— do any thing..” suguru and satoru snapped.

~in the bedroom

“Nnh—mph” you let out pretty little cries when suguru sucked you cock, on the now damp bed, while satoru was fucking you “I—I can feel you in my tummy…satoru” you moaned, satoru then shoved his fingers in your mouth “*gag*” you gripped satorus hand, but felt a harsh slap on your cheek, which made you tear up “I’m sho sworry” you whined, suguru groans and your cock which made shiver go down your spine when you felt the Vibrations on your cock.

suguru then pressed your cocks together and started to rub them together, “wait!! F—ffuck….!~” you whimpered, the knot in your stomach was about to bust “pleasepleaseplease!!” You pleaded “please, what?” Suguru cooed in your ear teasingly “please I need to cum…~” you looked at at him, and wrapped your arms around his neck “hmm… satoru what do you think” “I don’t know…but I’m about to cum” satoru whined “fuck.. me too” “mph— m’cumming!!~” you moaned, suguru and satoru following after “fuck baby, you alright?..” suguru said in a softer tone then before “mhm..” you tryed to keep your eyes open but you were to tired, expect a noice complaint for the neighbors!

[rubiehart]

jj with a really super girly reader!! like pink everything, bows, the whole coquette look🎀💗🍓

ఌ whenever you decide to paint your own nails for once, he always helps you paint your dominant hand, holding your hand in his larger one, tongue poking out between his lips in concentration as he focuses. giggling a little, “oops. you got it jayj.” whenever he’d , go out of the lines a little, spilling some of the glittery polish onto your finger.

ఌ convincing him to do the tiktok trend where you tie a bow around your bf’s bicep and him mindlessly agreeing whilst scrolling on his phone, looking up at he hears you chirp a little ‘all done!’ to see the little pink bow tied delicately around his arm and grinning at you, “look just like you now, pretty.”

ఌ him coming over to see your vase which is normally filled with pretty pink or red roses is empty, asking you about it casually, “oh, i’ve been meaning to get some more at the market, keep forgettin’.” you’d reply, muffled against his shoulder as you watch the tv, he takes a mental note and you forget about the interaction all together until the next day you come home from work to see a fresh bouquet of baby pink roses sitting all pretty in your vase, and a little note, “hope you like the flowers girly. ♡︎” making you smile and shoot him a thankyou text, all giddy that he remembers lil’ things you tell him.

ఌ buying you a matching pink zippo lighter to his and carving both of your initials into it like he did on his!! maybe tying a lil’ pink bow around it when he gave it to you, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly anticipating your reaction “sorry it’s not much baby-“ not giving him chance to finish before flinging yourself into his arms and smattering his face with grateful kisses.

ఌ you’ve basically built a collection of those little animal skincare/makeup headbands with the lil’ snails and bunny’s and he’d deffo wear one while you do your makeup or tries them all one, finding it funny to distract you because he thinks you look adorable when you scold him.

ఌ when he starts staying over at your house more often he uses your body washes and shampoos because it’s basically his only option!! (also because he loves the smell of you, duh.) but you buy him his own little toiletry basket with shampoo, body wash, deodorant maybe a mini of his cologne and put a toothbrush for him in your bathroom so they’re together all cute!!

ఌ having little self care nights when you put on cute scented sheet masks and him wearing a tiger one with the whiskers and everything, patting it down against his warm skin as he keeps fake biting you, sniggering when you look at him disapprovingly with a “jj.” because he can’t take you seriously in that unicorn sheet mask!!

[piggycyberwarrior]

Summary: After Task Force 141 got a hint that you gave important information to their enemy- the boys do not hesitate to chain you up and give you a taste of hell. You on the other hand are innocent but they do not believe you

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Platonic Task Force 141! x Fem!Reader (Simon Ghost Riley x Fem!Reader)

a/n: part 3‘s probably gonna take a while- oop.. enjoyyyyy

Warnings: uhm this whole fic is basically a warning. Torture; Blood; Mental Health; Angst angst angst not proof read CURSING!!! (Like always ngl). Being extremely drunk in a funny way(?) idk never been drunk before

genre: ANGST

+ 1,7k words

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

Base. Last Year. Warm summer night.

A memory so stupid yet so sweet you often thought back to it. Still fresh, lingering in your brain like a welcomed cloud. Nothing special- still, like a upbeat song- making you happy- feeling fuzzy.

Just a night spent with your people. People that understood you. People that were aware of your fears just like you were aware of theirs.

Time slowed down when you dived back into the memory. Happiness flooding your senses every time.

Crickets chirping late at night- warm air coming through the opened window of the community area- making you feel fuzzy and warm.

Johnny was drunk as hell back than- just like you have been. Ghost- was clearly amused- having a softer look on his face- as you and Soap emotionally sung 'let it go'- feeling every second. Soaps loud voice combined with the scottish accent made you laugh uncontrollably- finding it hard to breath.

Everything was just so much funnier that night.

Making up lyrics at some point- too drunk to remember every line- and even Ghost had to admit the next day that the freestyle parts weren't even that bad.

Price was in a good mood as well- leaning back and watching two of his three Sergeants almost crying while singing a stupid song and dancing to it.

And Gaz? That man was deep gone in his slumber- beer still in hand whilst he snored the whole time- drool dribbling down his chin and pooling onto the table where his head crashed onto half an hour ago.

'Kids'- Price just thought- chuckling while shaking his head slightly in disbelief. His Fingers shortly ran over moustache- giving Simon a knowing look as his liuetenant switched your drink with cold water- not wanting you to throw up your organs the next day. Even if Ghost didn‘t admit it- Price knew how fond the liuetenant was of you. He saw it in the way he let you near- how he carried you when you dodged that bullet for him.

Price never mentioned it but he saw the tears that brimmed in Simons eyes back then- frantically carrying you bridal style to the medics- never leaving your side for days. Just waiting and praying for you to recover

You took a sip of the water- now too busy to paint Kyle's nails with a hot pink Nail polish named 'Babygirl kiss' or something of the sort- not even noticing the switch of your drink- too drunk to care.

Soap was also busy distracting Price before the man finally saw what you did to Kyle. "Y/n- no" John only tutted like a parent- as he saw Gaz' now pink nails. "Whaaaa'? shi' loogs good" you slurred with a loopsided grin- hiccuping after your words and earning a gentle pat on your shoulder

"Maybe a little punishment for passing out.. its not even permanent" Ghost shrugged- same unreadable expression on his face even tho you finally abandoned your artsy task and were sprawled over his lap on the couch- fiddling with his mask like a child- feeling tired out of the sudden.

Soap just nodded his head furiously at Ghosts words- just like you- liking the polish on your friends fingers. „Ya dinnae fink tha‘ thad lass hs a broblem wih‘ tha, did a?“ the man with the mohawk slurred while stumbling slightly to take another shot.

Price sighed with a nod- taking a big gulp of his Whiskey befor he closed his eyes- feeling the burning sensation trailing down his esaphagus. Still suprised that Ghost even let you so close to him. Touching him so often.

"Uhhg" Soap moaned in pain as he laid on the cheap carpet floor- holding his belly.. "May'be- goo mally jelly jots" he bitched- curling up to a ball to immediately pass out- earning a chuckle from his Captain.

It was a silly memory- just funny when remembered- thats what you liked. Something that feels normal- comfortable.

.

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.

Now it wasn't anymore.

Far from it actually.

You dreamed often times down here- memories that normally made you laugh- now making you cry. Wishing to just forget everything you ever witnessed with them. Even if it made your day back then.

You had to admit that you sometimes wished to travel back in time. Make everything right- but what did you even done? Right.

Nothing.

You could feel yourself getting weaker. Little to no food, the wetness and cold temperatures of the room crawled up your bones- making you shiver almost all the time- legs and arms turning painfully cold- almost like dead meat.

It was quiet most of the time. Too quiet. Too dark. The cell was made to torture- to confuse- to limit your senses. And it did.

You shook your legs in the darkness of the room. Feeling them getting weaker again. You didn't sit down for almost 2 weeks. Trying to move your fingers- hissing softly as the cuffs scratched uncomfortably at your already raw rubbed wrists. You couldn't feel your arms- just hoped that your fingers really did move.

„Fuck“ you hissed- vision getting blurry with tears of frustration- and pain- and all the fucked up stuff that clouded your brain down in this shithole.

Slamming your bare foot behind you against the wall- definitely scratching it up during the process. „Fuck- I am going to kill everyone of you dirty fuckers!“ you yelled in agony- pulling at your chains- they did not budge a millimeter- just clinking under your movements.

Everything hurt. You had to admit that. Your eye was almost swollen shut, you could feel that. Broken nose, maybe also a black eye on the other side. Cuts adorning your Belly as well as your back-

You could swear that your toes and fingers were turning blue due to the coldness

You sighed into the silence. If it were any other occasion you would have probably thought about killing yourself? But now? Hah.

You will fucking live. Fucking spit in their faces Make them fucking bleed their hearts out and Scream.

Simon.

oh you were going to make him weep like a baby when all of this is done- destroying his tough shell with hateful words. Something that hurts him the most. Being Abandoned.

You were fucking Angry.

angry wasn‘t even fitting- you were furious, boiling with hate, wanting to see them destroyed.

Yeah. Your mother probably would say something like "Anger and revenge is no way out- its an unhealthy coping mechanism". You loved your Mother- didn't even know if she got informed what was going on here- probably not- you thought.

Still you wanted to throw a middlefinger at that statement. Yes. revenge isn't always a good answer. But here? Right now?

It seemed like a fucking good plan.

.

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"Just tell us, sugar" Gaz spat at you with a venom laced voice. Looking at your quiet and beat up frame. Painfully squeezing your chin inbetween his fingers to make you look at him.

"What? Cat gotcha tounge?" he asked with a bloodthirsthy smile. "Didn't think we would find out, eh?" he asked staring at you with a clenched jaw- he was seething.

No need to be a pro to see that.

Your feelings matched his expression perfectly - you didn't show him though. Staring into his eyes with a dead look- not bothering talking to him. "Maybe I should cut your tounge off, huh? Liking that idea, sweetie?" holding up his knife and cocking his head towards it to prove his point.

You rolled your eyes at that gesture, earning a quick stab into your shoulder, grunting at the sudden attack- not expecting it. Breathing getting heavier as you comprehended the pain that passed through your veins like a wildfire. Spreading its painful heat into every tissue of your body.

"fucker" you chocked out- getting kicked into your stomach for your words- your whole body cramping at the forcefull impact.

Body crumpling together as much as you could- still chained to the bar at the ceiling. "Just tell us the truth!" Gaz sneered angered- fist tightening as he pulled the sharp dagger out of your shoulder- an ugly squelching sound emitting during the process- making you shudder, even though you heard it pretty often during your career.

You huffed angrily- cold sweat forming on your body. Mixing with the dirt and dried up blood- sticking to your skin in an uncomfortable way.

"I. Didn't. Do. SHIT!" you yelled at him- a fire errupting in Gaz eyes, his mouth clenching shut- jabbing you into your throat with his hand out of nowhere-

And everything turned black.

.

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.

Gaz sighed at your unconscious self. Fist clenching and unclenching around the hilt of the bloody dagger- other hand coming up to wipe away the sweat that formed on his face.

"Fuck, just please.. tell us the truth" he whispered before turning around.

he quickly left- Room turning dark again. The singular lightbulb getting dimmer and dimmer till the light completely vanished.

.

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.

Your shoulder stung like a bitch after you gained consciousness. Groaning in pain- the warm liquid still slowly trickling down your shoulder, over your chest- trailing further down.

„Fucking bitch“ you moaned in pain- curses- all directed at Kyle flooded your mouth

„Motherfucker!“ you whimpered- shoulders trembling- making you wince even more. Feeling the tightness in the back of your throat- accompanied by the bitter taste and burning sensation in your eyes- frustrating you even more. tears falling free- creating small streaks on their way down- contrasting with the dried up blood on your beat up face.

A sob was the first thing that broke the silence for a long time. Then another- and another. All drenched in pain. Hurt. Betrayal.

Sobs wrecked your body- coughing after some minutes of crying your soul out. Too much Saliva or mucus in your nasal area. You pleaded into the cold air. Missing your family. Missing your happiness. Missing the old times.

old times..

Hours passed. Exhausted look on your face. Eyes shallow. Trying to drift off into sleep again.

You didn‘t care that you were probably ignoring the advice from your Mother that she taught you since you were little.

Fucking making them die on the inside it is.

Die on the Inside.

Fuckers.

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!please do reblog!

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@sincerleysinister | @krispynachofan | @generalfanfictionaddict | @ksharkthemommy

[tommysversion]

Honeypot: Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader 

Summary: Joel fucks hard. You’re a little sore. He takes the phrase “kiss it better” quite literally.

Notes: I don’t know how I got 2 fics written in 72 hours. Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s maladaptive coping mechanisms. No beta, we die like men. (As usual).

CWs: no physical description of reader but all my readers are plus size coded / friendly | reader is AFAB | pet names (darlin, baby, honey) | mentions of PIV sex | oral sex (f!receiving) | allusions to oral sex (m!receiving) | Joel cums untouched oop | big girthy unspecified age gap is alluded to but not mentioned so could feasibly be ignored | dirty talk | explicit content 18+ etc

Warm sunlight streams through the bedroom window, the gap in the curtains allowing for a beam of warmth to hit the bed just so.

You wriggle under the warm sheets, rolling onto your side to bury your face in the solid wall of muscle that is Joel, inhaling the sleep sweat sex smell of him that makes you feel at home.

Really, you’re not too sure what you are. More than just friends with benefits, but not willing to put a label on it just yet. It’s a work in progress.

A big, thick arm wraps around you, tugging you closer. As you move, you wince slightly at the sudden ache between your thighs.

“You alright there, hon’?” His Southern drawl is a low, sweet sound in your sleepy ears.

“Mmhmm,” you inhale his scent again, wriggling when you feel the hot, hard length of him against your stomach. Fuck, he’s so big. No wonder you’re aching.

“You sure?” His lips brush your throat and you shiver.

“I’m a little sore,” you admit, shy in spite of everything. You’re a little worried that he’ll take offense to it, especially when you know he took such precautions to make it easier for you. He always does. Joel is so careful with you, at least when it comes to making sure you can take him.

“Aw, hell… was I too rough with you?” He pulls away from you ever so slightly, props himself up to look down at you, soft brown eyes concerned as he watches your expression.

“No!” You jump to reassure him, because god, if you hadn’t begged him for it, begged him to be rougher, to go harder, to hold you tighter. “You’re just… really big.”

You feel like an idiot for saying it, feel like an inexperienced fool, even though that isn’t the case. He just has, even though it sounds ridiculous, a huge cock.

Joel shakes his head, and even though you can tell you’ve stroked his ego with the comment, his expression remains concerned.

“Should’ve said something…”

You give him a wry, cheeky smile as he looks down at you.

“Pretty sure I did. Several somethings. And all of them were along the line of ‘give it to me harder’ and ‘don’t stop’ and begging you to fuck me.” You remind him.

Joel laughs, in spite of the pang of guilt he feels, because you’re right. All that came out of your mouth, aside from senseless moans and mewls of pleasure, were pleas for him to keep going, begging for it harder, deeper, faster. His cock twitches against his stomach at the memory.

“‘M sorry, I got carried away.” He chews his lip, caramel eyes softening with regret.

“Aw, Joel, it’s fine,” you tell him, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Besides. If you’re that worried, you can always kiss it better?”

You’re joking mostly, being facetious, because honestly it’s nothing that a couple of days without sex and a nice hot bath won’t fix, but his expression becomes almost devious as you say it.

“Kiss it better, huh?” Joel leans down to kiss you, then gently turns you onto your back, kissing down your throat, down your chest; his hands follow, sliding down your shoulders, across the curve of your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples as he kisses down your stomach, spreading your thighs and settling between them.

“I was jo- oh!” Your sentence is cut short as he nips at your inner thigh, one muscled arm flat across your abdomen as he looks up at you.

“Shh, honey. Gonna kiss it better, just like y’asked…”

Joel is goddamn dominant most of the time. Loves making you weak, loves watching you submit. Loves impact play; he fucking loves it all, but nothing turns him into a mess more than someone who lets him eat their pussy.

Keeping his arm flat across your abdomen, so your thighs are spread for him, he presses the lightest of kisses to your clit, carefully flicking his tongue out in the tiniest of kitten licks, before he groans at the sweet salty taste of you.

“Fuck, sweetest fuckin’ pussy…” he mumbles almost to himself, unconsciously rolling his hips slightly against the silky sheets, getting the tiniest bit of friction against his suddenly throbbing cock.

Fuck, you taste so good; his tongue dips inside you, making you wriggle above him. Still, he manages to hold you in place, moaning into your cunt as he licks and sucks greedily at your folds, taking his time, making sure to be careful.

You whimper, looking down at him; his deep caramel eyes look up at you, expression thoroughly pussy drunk as he nuzzles his nose against your clit. Your head drops back against the pillows, lips parted in a desperate moan.

Joel doesn’t like showing any sort of vulnerability; it’s incredibly difficult for him to try and be soft, be caring. Even though he does care, cares far more than he lets on, he’s afraid that if he shows it, it’s a weakness to be exploited.

Either way, he’ll take this moment for all it’s worth. Take the time to connect with you, to focus entirely on you. He doesn’t even seem to realise that his hips are rolling slightly against the sheets, getting a little bit of friction - not enough, not really - against the aching length of his cock.

He nuzzles your clit again, drawing a lazy circle with his nose as his tongue laps at your slick, drinking you down with zero hesitation or concern for how wet his scruffy beard is getting. All that matters is the way you writhe and moan for him, the way your hands move to tangle in his grown out curls as he keeps your thighs apart with his broad shoulders.

“Joel…”

You draw his name out in an almost loving whine as he drags his tongue lazily through your folds. He wants, so badly, to slip a finger inside you and curl it just so, knowing just the right angle to make you fall apart for him. But he doesn’t, knowing you’re still sore and aching and it most certainly wouldn’t improve the circumstances if he did.

Instead, he keeps on teasing you, sliding his tongue inside you and fucking you with it, waiting until you’re tugging lightly at his curls to withdraw it.

“Taste like honey, baby,” he groans, rolling his hips against the sheets again, feeling the way his cock drips with his own arousal, feels it hot and sticky against his belly as he suckles your clit into his mouth, barely grazing it with his teeth, making you mewl pathetically for him.

“Joel, I’m -” you can’t get the last word out, knowing he gets the point; your cunt tightens around nothing, aching to be filled in spite of still feeling the after effects of the previous night.

He doesn’t answer you verbally, just spreads your thighs wider, gently shaking his head from side to side as he eats your cunt like it’s his last meal, greedily drinking down your slick as it pours onto his eager tongue.

Fuck, he feels good, his skilled mouth sending you over the edge before you even realise it’s happening. Gasping, tugging on his curls, your filthy little moans echo off the walls as you come apart beneath his touch.

Joel groans into your fluttering cunt, feeling your walls pulsing against his tongue, tastes the sweet salty tangy taste of your release, and that’s enough to send him, too.

Before he even realises it, his cock is throbbing, aching, balls tight as he comes entirely untouched, his spend soaking the soft hair on his stomach, the linen sheets, making him groan into you before he turns his head to one side, resting on your thigh as you recover.

Chest still heaving with rapid breaths, you prop yourself up on shaky hands to look down at the sight that is Joel Miller looking up at you with a blissful, pussy drunk expression on his handsome face.

“D-did you just cum from eating me out?” You ask, voice a little hoarse from moaning for him.

Joel gives you a half shrug from his arguably extremely comfortable position.

“‘M sixty years old, darlin’, and your pussy tastes like a goddamn honey pot. Man’s gonna cum.”

You giggle and then smirk.

“Does that mean I get to kiss you better now?”

He groans, clearly appreciative of the idea.

“Fuck. Yes. But not right now, honey. Let me just enjoy this for now, hm?”

You hum your agreement, flop back against the pillows, link your fingers with Joel, and sigh in contentment as the sunlight warms your bare skin.

Yes, you think, you’ll be more than happy for Joel to take you literally any time soon.

[leth-writes]

batfamily hugs

Bruce Wayne

• all-encompassing

• when Bruce hugs, it's like the whole world goes quiet for a moment.

• Rests your head on his shoulder, rubs your back a lil bit

• "It's okay..."

Dick Grayson

• Big, swinging hugs

• He really swings you around like a toddler

• but it's okay

• because he still gives really good hugs

• You can feel his laugh through his chest

• Pretty tight but not painful

• incredibly touchy, hugs constantly

• ruffles your hair afterwards

• "Sorry! I didn't mean to drop you!"

Jason Todd

• Crushing hugs

• he's really tall and pretty buff too, so he's able to hug pretty hard

• Makes you wheeze a little but still comfy

• The side-effects of the lazarus pit means he runs warm so his hugs are perfect during the winter

• Sometimes hugs from behind, squeezing a bit.

• "Oops... You can still breathe, right?"

Tim Drake

• King of cuddling

• spends a lot of time either hyped up on a case or crashing, so you'll either get a quick side hug or a 9 hour cuddle session

• runs cold, heat-seaking missile while asleep

• doesn't move at all, sometimes you have to check he's still breathing

• Impossible to wake up but prefers to cuddle to sleep, so make sure you're done with all your tasks before lying down

• "mmm... ready to nap?"

Cassandra Cain

• doesn't hug often, but when she does, they're the nicest out of her whole family

• gentle and soft hugs

• Often rests a hand on your shoulder or leans next to you

• will bump shoulders or hips, or gently brush your shoulder as she moves past

• Signs Hello! everytime she comes near you. Brightens like a puppy when you do, she's got deep brown eyes so she's mastered Dick's puppy eye technique.

[cherubfae]

"this place about to BLOW!" || hazbin/helluva x reader

ft. Angel Dust, Lucifer, Vox, Adam, Blitzø, Stolas, Striker

tags: nsfw, smut, blowjobs, cum eating, 69, gn!afab!reader, angel!reader for Adam, ftm/masc reader (still using gn pronouns but mentions of reader having tdick/use of the term cock for reader!) for angie and stolas <3, daddy kink/degradation in blitz's, mutual masturbation, manhandling, bit of corruption kink/blasphemy in Adam's oop, striker needs to calm down lmao, size kink/size difference, this kinda got away from meeeee

Angel Dust

"Oh, fuck, baby. You really know how to work that tongue of yours." Angel gasps, one arm covering his face, legs parting wide with a subtle shake to make more room for you to work your magic on his weeping cock. Guiding you gently, his hand cups the back of your head panting in tune to the soft humps he gives your mouth going deeper with every micro-thrust. "You're doing so good for me, baby. Gonna keep stretching out that mouth.. Move your legs over my face. Gonna get you off too, pretty." Suddenly gripping you with every set of his arms, Angel holds your hips over his waiting mouth. His warm tongue laps at your erect tdick, smirking against your soft skin at your whiny moans.

Lucifer

Wings sputtering at his back, he wrenches out a deep gasp, body bowing over your hunched form. His impish tail sways and flicks, swirling the nearby area as if wagging like a dog. "Gosh, stardust. Your mouth feels divine. Oh, fuck, just like that, baby. Gonna fuckin' burst. Fuck, lemme fuck you on my tongue please-- pleaseeeee!!" Lucifer moans, pulling back cumming thick ropes of cum across your cheeks and face. Ever the gentleman, he's quick to fall to his knees and lap up his own cum. His cock drools between his legs, clawing at your thighs to make way for his hungry mouth.

Vox

Grunting low, Vox keeps his gaze on you as he jerks his cock. Slick precum coats his fists, glitching eyes watching the way you toy with your entrance for him. "Fuck, baby, fuckfuckfuck. You're so hot. C'mere. I need you. Please, I need you." Vox gasps, sharing a quick, sloppy kiss before relinquishing his cock into your care. You take him immediately, hollowing your cheeks out. Clawing his hand into your hair, Vox fucks into your mouth without abandon throwing his head back with a staticy cry. He cums harshly, keeping your face pressed to his crotch tightly as he empties every last drop of cum down your throat.

Adam

He'd been having a horrible, shitty day. Nothing seemed like it was going right and he couldn't even fuckin get himself off properly. And there you were, his sweet little subordinate, ever so eager to please him. It truly warmed his heart. "Hey there, babe. Your captain here is in need of some help. Can you lend your mouth? It's what God would want..." Adam frees his thick cock from his robes. Your hot breath sending shivers down his body hard enough to make his balls clench in anticipation. Eagerly, you take him into your mouth and down your throat bobbing your head. Adam's strong thighs flex, his large, warm hand rests against your nape encouraging you to take him all the way. His other hand soothes across the bend of your delicate wings, toying with the sensitive silvery-white feathers.

Blitzø

His hand tightens around the base of his cock, he smacks his tip against your waiting tongue gasping sharply with short jolts of pleasure. "Fuck, aren't you precious? So eager to suck such a nice, hard cock, eh, babe?" Growling affectionately, Blitzø grips your chin and slowly pushes himself into your waiting mouth. Humping himself against you, Blitzø snarls, tail swaying behind him. "Gonna take every drop I give you? Be a good little slut for daddy and maybe I'll fuck whatever hole you want me in tonight."

Stolas

He certainly wasn't expecting you to sink down to your knees before him in such a public area. His cloak drapes around your shoulders the second you pull his cock free. Taking him into your mouth quickly, Stolas slams his fist into the wall desperately clawing for anything to find purchase. You look like a dream, taking care of him so sweetly. The wet slick noises make him feel dizzy and lightheaded, legs trembling as he holds your chin softly rocking himself into your mouth. "Oh, goodness, my love. I'm afraid I won't last much longer if you keep this up. We should head home. I need to see you sprawled beneath me toying your cock for me in more agreeable lighting, my darling~."

Striker

He's not nearly all tough bravado as he likes to make himself seem. Not with how hard he's clenching his teeth and how rapidly his tail is thrashing about, knocking down anything in its vicinity. You blink up at him with your tongue on his balls, clearly a bit unimpressed. Taking one into your mouth, Striker hisses, hips lifting off the ground for more friction. Your hands force his lower body back down, keeping him pinned and unmoving. Taking his tail, much softer than how you're sucking at his cock, winding the prehensile appendage around your wrist to keep him still. "Fuck, darlin'. That ain't fair, keepin' me restricted like this." Striker grunts yet makes no means to free himself. The precum leaking from his cock is more than enough to tell you how much he's enjoying this.

|| please don't repost, reuse, or edit my works in any way! I do not give permission. Tumblr is the only site where I post. All characters belong to their rightful owner and the story belongs to me © CHERUBFAE 2024 ||

[twentycuben]

©. 𝓷uts by lil peep

시원하게 지내세요 (,,>ヮ<,,)! mdni!!!!!!!!!

syn. usually, heeseung manages with ur bratty attitude, but now he is too pissed of with you.

!genre smut. this is my first time writing smut so PLEASE. Bear WITH ME 😭💔 fluff. angst if u just SQUINt lmao

smut warnings. heeseung is mean, reader is very bratty!!, rough sex, degradation, mild?- slut shaming, spanking, unprotected sex BUT ITS NOT REALLY MENTIONED ?? idk if u squint guys 😭😭, aloooooot of dirty talk. etc. not proofread oops

YOU WERE REGRETTING ALL OF YOUR CHOICES. maybe it was the short, short tiny skirt you wore, maybe the way you looked at your busy boyfriend from across the room with that so fucking pure and innocent look on your face that made heeseung want to fuck your brains out. heeseung had been busy the whole time, and pushing you away. so you wanted to get your revenge, but now you realized that it wasn’t really the smartest choice ever.

"you fuckin’ happy now brat?"

heeseung pulled you by the hair, resulting in your back arching and eyes rolling back while heeseung continued pounding into you, not stopping his brutal thrusts in your tight hole. "answer, slut, you wanted this so bad. didn’t ya, princess?" he chuckled, watching you be a bratty bitch to your face being all fucked up, begging for more, his cock twitching at the sight.

you on the other hand, was bent over the dinner table. since you were being such a brat and an impatient slut who couldn’t even wait to be until he was done. he couldn’t careless to bring you to the bedroom, fucking you dumb on the nearest flat surface. "answer, or I won’t let you cum princess."

"want— want more seungie.." you slurred, couldn’t even bring yourself to speak correctly due to the fact your eyes were rolling to the back of your head. he scoffed at how pathetic you were, yet his cock can’t stop twitching at how your pussy clenches around his big member. listening to his cock, not his brain, he then pulls out before slamming aggressively back into your worn out hole. "fuck, baby, your pussy is so warm and tight just for me. all for me."

"so impatient. because my baby knows I’m the only man who can fuck her this good, isn’t that right ya’ fucking brat?" he spanked your ass, leaving a red mark on you, not stopping his pounding even if he was near to breaking the table. "s—seungie! wan m—more!" stammering and mumbling your words, heeseungs hips practically snapping on your ass.

"brats like you don’t get what they fucking want, got it?" he speaks in a low tone, his hands on your waist, gripping onto you tightly, he just can’t get enough of you. almost bruising your fragile body. "you love me ruining you huh? fucking your pretty little brains out, asking for more like the slut you are." he degraded you, being pushed to his limit when he hears your soft moans that are like music to his ears.

"seungie—!" you moaned out, heeseung caused the table under you to shake violently. you felt like your were closer and closer to cumming and painting heeseungs big cock white. "come on baby, fuck.. your so tight shit.." heeseung knew he was close too, fucking you so hard that he was thrusting in a relentless speed.

"oh.. oh fuckfuckfuck.." heeseung repeated, closing his eyes as he came in your puffed up and sore hole. he thrusted in you, riding his orgasm before eventually pulling out to see how fucked up and messy your face looked. he moved the hair out of your hair, smiling.

"did so good for me princess, shit, you look so fucking hot. now, turn around pretty girl.

first time writing smut.. I am sososo sorry to the people who followed me for d fluff. 🥲 btw I suck at writing smut as you can tell sawrry

[bamfkeeper]

NSFW Headcannons: Nightcrawler // Oral Sex

a/n: ahaaa well, I got carried away. This is sort of a headcannon/short fic hybrid by the way I wrote them, oops. I didn't expect to write so much but I did. There is a giving and receiving portion below the cut, and the giving portion I wrote both AFAB and AMAB because I want everyone to enjoy. I am an AFAB, so I did my best for the AMAB portion. Receiving was written neutral. I hope you all enjoy <3 also unedited don't mind any errors.

wc: 2238

Minors DNI. 18+ below the cut.

Giving (AFAB)

Kurt loves to give. This man knows just what to do to make you squirm and writhe before he even gets to your core. Before he even starts, he likes to make sure you're comfortable. He lays you on the bed, makes sure you have good pillows and are warm enough, etc.

"Alles gut?" he looks up at you, his yellow eyes hopeful you are comfortable.

He always starts with gentle kisses, placing them on your body and trailing them down. He begins at your lips, moving down your cheek and neck, teasingly kissing your nipples before continuing his trail.

He might even get a little cheeky and give you a raspberry, something he will also do if you feel nervous. He likes to ease the tension and your nerves as much as possible.

He will then kiss over the sensitive, thin skin of your pelvic area and gently move your legs to fall open and reveal your vulva. He will be excited and curious, his fingers caressing you and feeling around, but not touching your core just yet.

A few tender kisses to your inner thighs, along with a soft nip, and he looks up once more to silently ask for permission. When he gets confirmation, he will lean down closer, settling himself.

His fingers will spread you slightly, and his tongue will come out, giving a little lick over you. He starts slow, letting you acclimate to the strange feeling of a tongue lapping your pussy. You'd squirm a little at the feeling, muffling a shy squeak.

"Easy, liebling, I have barely started," he chuckled against your skin, his hands soothingly massaging your thighs as he continued his soft licks.

His curly locks fall over his face slightly as he dives in a little deeper, testing the waters. His tongue dips down your folds, eagerly following the taste of your arousal and where it comes from, finding your entrance. He gently pushes his tongue inside, tasting more of you.

You might jump a little, to which he chuckled again, the deep sound almost vibrating your core and making you whine. But he doesn't play much there, he knows where you feel the most and he lets his tongue come back up and find that sweet little bud.

He is quick, his tongue homing in on it like he had already mapped out your anatomy. He pulls your skin slightly, making the bud more exposed as his tongue makes gentle laps. His saliva coats your clit as he covers it with each lick, making you slightly buck into him, wanting more.

"More? I see your shyness has worn off," he whispers with a smirk, "Do not fret, schatz, I will give you what you want."

He begins suckling, making your eyes widen at the change of sensations. His gentle licks turned into something much more and you couldn't help but whine at it. Your hands grip the bedsheets as he practically nursed on your clit, his tongue flicking and caressing it all the while.

His tail, an ever so sneaky accomplice, sneaks between your legs and teases your entrance. He watches you blush darkly and moan louder, he grinned against you. "Naughty, naughty, little thing. I feel you tighten around my tail...have you thought of this before?"

Oh god, his teasing!

His tongue flicks and swirls, constantly providing stimulation and enough of a variety to keep you struggling. It felt good, so damn good, he knew exactly what to do.

He grabs your hips tighter and buries himself into your pussy, his cheeks dusted purple as he laps and licks and sucks, his half-lidded yellow eyes faintly emitting a soft glow in the dim room. He watches you writhe and moan for him, loving your noises and how you sound.

When you grip his hair, he loses it, and he gets to work on making you cum. Your poor clit doesn't stand a chance.

"Kurt! K-Kurt, ooh god....right there! D-don't....stop...doing that!" you managed through your desperate pants and moans. Your hips grinding up into his mouth as he works you.

When he groaned against your cunt, you couldn't hold back as a wave of an intense orgasm flooded your senses. You cried out loudly, riding it out on his face as your legs wrapped around him, holding him firmly in place, begging him not to stop.

It felt like a wave of ecstasy took over and your back arched, you swore you saw stars and hoped you hadn't gripped his hair too tight. It was a high you rode for several seconds before it faded, and he made sure to suckle and lick until you were surely over.

Kurt only pulled back when you whined and gently nudged his head off you, the overstimulation getting you a little bit, your swollen clit extra sensitive.

"Ah...you are divine, meine fräulein..." he practically purred against you, your clit throbbed with aftershocks, the poor bud swollen and slightly discolored from the sucking.

He makes up for it by kissing you all over, praising you and loving on you, rubbing his head into you and sighing with delight, adoring how he could bring you to such a dazed state.

Giving (AMAB)

No matter what partner, Kurt always makes sure you are comfortable. He will lay you back, smile down at you, those little fangs poke out of his sweet grin.

"Now lay back and let me do the work, liebling..." he whispered softly, nipping your ear as he moved down your body, his hands feeling you sensually until he reached the point of interest.

His eyes sparkled, his tail gently teasing your tip. "You are lovely." he whispered, his hand gently holding your dick and slowly stroking you to full erection. His hands were soft and gentle, he would watch your foreskin peel back as he stroked you if you are uncut, if you are cut, he'd just admire your tip.

Kurt will lean close, his hot breath teasing your sensitive head. He watched the precum bead and smiled, "You are practically weeping..." he whispered teasingly. His tongue darts out and licks over you, tasting your precum.

He will swirl his tongue over your tip, gently letting his tongue cup the tiny slit and gather your precum before he swallows it.

Kurt's hand strokes you as he suckled, his tongue paying close attention to your frenulum.

He will slowly take you in his mouth, inching more with each bob. He looks up at you, his eyes big and he blinks slowly, he holds himself still for a moment so his jaw adjusts to you.

The suckling slowly continued, his hand holds your cock and his other lays flat on your hip. His tail curls around your leg as the spade slowly strokes your side up and down, a comforting gesture.

He pulls off you, his mouth drooling slightly, "Stand, leibling..." he asks, pulling you to stand so he can kneel down, his hands on your thighs as he licks your balls and grins up at you.

His mouth finds your cock, taking you and sucking you again, slowly bobbing his head and trying to take more of you. He will eventually deepthroat you, pushing himself on your dick and gurgling slightly from the build up saliva.

It drools down his chin and bubbles on your cock, he looks up lazily, his nose buried in your pubic hair. He makes a low moan, suckling harder as he deepthroats you.

You can't help but grab onto his hair and lightly thrust towards him, he sits still, his tail swaying behind him as he lets you thrust into his mouth. He has to be careful of his fangs, if he nicks you by accident he is very apologetic.

"Ah- es tut mir Leid," he looked at the little nick and he gently pressed a kiss on the spot. "Forgive me..." he hummed and he would take you back in his mouth.

He sucks well, his tongue does enough and his cheeks will hollow with each bob, he takes you deep as well as plays with your sensitive head just enough to make it feel erotic and sensual.

Kurt likes to make a lot of noise when he sucks dick too, letting you know he's enjoying it just as much as you are.

He squeezes and massages your legs, urging you to cum. He looks up, begging with his gaze. By now he will sit back and allow you to thrust into him to chase your orgasm if you want. Otherwise he will suckle until he hears those gasps and moans he likes to hear from you.

He moans, muffled around you, begging for your cum. His tail will cradle your balls, gently massaging them to entice you even further. He feels your dick throb and twitch on his tongue, he smiles as he continues to suck harder and let his tongue twirl around your tip.

You feel so overly sensitive and then hot, your cock swelling as you let out a pleasured cry. Your legs tremble and you swear your knees might give out.

His eyes will widen when he feels you shoot your load into his mouth, coating his tongue and feeling how you slip down the back of his throat. He blinks, breathing deep and hard through his nose as you ride out your orgasm.

"Mmf...." he moaned softly, sucking the rest of your cum out and only stopping when you tug on his hair softly. He pulls back with a pop and he smiles up at you. "See, I told you...I swallow."

Receiving

He'd rather give, but he won't say no to receiving. He'd agree and he would sit back how you wanted. "Are you sure, liebling? I don't want you to feel like it is a chore..." he whispers gently, his fingers caressing you softly.

You nod, reassuring him that you want to. You slowly lay him back, starting off by kissing him. Your hands gently massaging his chest, trailing down to his abdomen. His breathing is calm, each deep intake seems to increase as your hands move closer to his crotch.

His cock is hard by now, and you trail down to look at his impressive member. It twitches on its own, lightly bobbing. His purple tip flushed as he beaded clear pearls.

His cheeks blush a little as you lean your head down, your lips hovering over his dick and you place little kisses on the underside of his head, making him squirm. "Ah...don't tease me, bitte..." he whispered.

He looked down and watched you suckle around his head, trailing your tongue around his tip and finally over the mound of it. He whines as you suckle on the head and taste more of his precum.

It practically just leaks out at this point.

He didn't taste bad, not overly bitter or salty, which was nice. You continued to suckle before you took more of him in your mouth, figuring your teasing was enough.

You began a steady rhythm, sucking lightly at first and listening to Kurt's moans. His cock twitched in your mouth, his hand shyly hovered over your head. He lightly placed his hand on your head, his fingers moving into your hair and not pushing, but he holds on lightly and lets you continue at your own pace.

"Bitte...faster?" he asks almost meekly, his cheeks a darker shade of purple, not wanting to make you feel pressured, but voicing his desires too.

You complied with him, hollowing your cheeks to suck on him harder and you moved faster on him. He moaned and let his head fall back on the pillow, his hand tightening in your hair as you went.

His tail will curl around you, somehow. Your arm, your leg, anywhere he can get and his free hand will hold onto yours. He likes to feel your hand in his as much as possible.

His hips gently buck up as he made a stifled whine. You recognized his need and you moved your hand to cradle his balls, his eyes nearly rolled back.

He likes his balls massaged while he receives, it adds extra stimulation and his balls are quite sensitive. Just giving them a tender rub will make him squirm even more.

Watch him unravel when you take him all the way, his cock head hitting the back of your throat and sliding down slightly, his eyes widen and he grips the sheets and your hair a little tighter.

When Kurt is close, his cock throbs in your throat, it swells at the tip and it gets hotter. His tip gets more sensitive and he gets much more vocal. His tail tightens around you, and he bits his lip to try to stifle his noises.

You tell him not to hold them back, because you love to hear him. He just whines at the loss of your pretty mouth around him.

When you get back to sucking, he bucks up slightly, apologizing if you gag, but unable to stop himself. "Liebling, I...can't hold it in..." he warns, his hand gripping your hair.

Or sometimes, he can't stop himself from bucking into your mouth and he holds onto your head as his hips move up over and over, driving himself closer to orgasm.

When he cums, he fills your mouth. His cock emptied, ropes of hot cum shooting out as he holds your head still. He can't stop your tongue from caressing his cock, which encourages more cum to shoot out.

His noises are beautiful, and you get turned on from hearing them. "Ah...mein Gott..." he rasped, looking down as you suck off him. You give one more lick to get anything left and swallow him. He just blushed more at that.

He will embrace you after, kissing all over and nuzzling you. His tail wrapping around you like a third arm and he cuddles you close. He's very affectionate after, so loving and appreciative. He likes to make sure you know how much he adores you.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[callooopie]

NSWF MODERN CREGAN HEADCANNONS PLZZZZZ💋💋💋

Modern!Cregan Stark headcannons (pt. Smut)

Be like the love that discovered the sin — Be // Hozier

found time to finish this!! I had to take breaks and fan myself when writing this… but that’s what I do for all my writings oops I’m a silly lady who gets flustered too easily >~>

< currently unedited >

aw man guys… Cregan loves shower sex. ‘Cause to him? He’s strong enough to lift you up and press you against the shower wall, and very easy cleanup. At this angle with you held against the wall, Cregan can also watch as he drags his thick cock in and out of your hole. His hands? A firm grip on your ass, arms wrapped around the outside of your thighs as he holds you up. He’ll make you wash his hair in this position, wanting to see your hands shake or tremble as you reach up to lather his hair with shampoo. He was just outside all day, he doesn’t wanna be too dirty touching you.

Cabin is secluded enough to where you two could essentially do anything, inside and outside. Although in my professional opinion, summer mosquitos in Alaska? Hell on Earth. However, a bit of tent action now and then didn’t hurt (the bug bites sure did tho ouchh). It’s just nice being out there with you, a warm campfire going, your warm walls clenching around him as he pounds into you from behind. And you can be as loud as you want too.

I find it hard to think of specifics for Cregan here. Is lazy sex a term for it? You’re not fucking, and it could technically be classified as lovemaking. But really, you’re just talking about your day as you ride him while he sits in one of the chairs on the back porch. A beer in hand of course, his eyes never leaving yours as he listens intently. He has his other hand on your hip, not guiding you, only to hold. Being so comfortable with each other that you can have full on conversations even as you’re bouncing on his cock. There’s no rush to it and you’re both content with stopping, pausing, continuing. At the end of the day, Cregan just wants your skin against his in any way possible. It’s a peaceful feeling, having you and the sounds of nature. And then one or both of you will start to grow impatient, conversation running dry as you focus on chasing your impending orgasm.

Breakfast in bed, giving or receiving. Or both—Cregan would not mind you choking on his dick while he eats you out. But if he wants to wake you up something special like; he’ll be the one to get up first, make you an actual breakfast or just coffee. A refreshment for after. You’re still fast asleep, and the sun’s barely funneling through the early morning clouds. But Cregan will be awake, hovering over you, making sure not to let the blankets slip off of you as he inches himself lower and lower. A kiss pressed to your heart, and then your stomach, another kiss against your womb. And then finally a faint kiss pressed to your clit, followed by many more and a tongue that swirls around the sensitive bud. Tiny kitten licks to start out that are soon followed by long drags of his tongue up between the folds of your cunt. His arms are supposed to be gently wrapped around your thighs, however they lose their gentleness when Cregan starts to lose himself in the taste of your wetness.

If he’s on the receiving end though? Be prepared for his hand to latch onto your hair suddenly. Cregan’s a light sleeper. I feel like he’d have to be if he’s got a type of farm going, ready to respond to any threat or disaster at the drop of a hat—early morning or dead of night. So it doesn’t take long for him to be roused from sleep at the feeling of your tongue running up and down his length. He’s a little lost for a moment, only when he’s coming out of sleep. A tired and grumbled moan coming from him. But when he realizes what’s happening; his hand will grab your hair and force you down onto his cock, loving how your lips feel around him. He’s thick, he’s big, you can barely fit half of him into your mouth. More fun for him, watching you as you struggle and gag around him.

He’ll be more mean about receiving head. When you gag, he’ll make it his “secret” mission to thrust more into your throat. On accident he’ll say. Do not believe such falsities. His large hand will grab your hair, gripping onto your head almost as he shoves your head down. On accident! His hand slipped and got the better of him.

But what he does onto you, can be done onto him. He’s got such nice long hair, yank on it as he eats you out. It’s also nice how you keep his hair out of his way, nothing to interrupt or bother him as he tries to bury his tongue inside of you. Messy eater, so it’s even more important to keep his hair out of his food. He will spread your legs, actively pushing them apart or holding them in a way they can’t budge an inch. Even a twitch in your legs makes him wrap his arms around your thighs tighter.

Top. Even on bottom Cregan’s a top. He’s not a dominant top though. He’ll be nice. He’ll praise and compliment you as you ride him. He is bigger than you, he hopes you can handle him some more. You’re doing well as it is too, despite your complaints of your legs burning and your pace slowing; he’s very, very proud. He’ll get impatient maybe, a firm hand smacking your ass, his tone slightly more stern as he tells you “to get a move on” he’s gotta be up early, and you’re stalling just ‘cause your legs are tired? Fine, he’ll take over for a bit.

[phebbsl]

Warm You Up

I was writing another fic but this popped into my head, oops.

Just a small thing on the different ways that cockwarming SDV Sebastian would go, according to my brain. Not super smutty but it is nsfw, it's more fluffy imo.

Not proofread, lmk if there's typos.

Sebastian x GN!Reader

content: fluff, nsfw, cockwarming

MDNI AND BLANK BLOGS!!

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Cockwarming was not something Sebastian saw himself doing. Not that he was opposed to it, but he never really had a partner to suggest the concept to. It seemed like it would be more frustrating than anything anyways. 

But it’s become something of a routine for the two of you these days. It wasn’t really something either of you had planned on either, it just happened. 

He hasn’t officially moved in, but he might as well have, with the amount of time he spends at the farm. He walks over, taking his daily smoke break on the trail to your place instead of by the lake or the train station. If you aren’t home yet, he takes the time to pet your farm animals or sit on the bench outside, admiring the hard work you’ve put into the land. And when you do arrive, the two of you make dinner, passing little questions about each other’s day. The two of you eat over bed trays perched on each lap so you can watch something on your old laptop on your bed, quiet hums and speculations interjecting shows or movies. It’s not exciting, nor is it boring. It’s just...peaceful. Domestic. Something he hasn’t really experienced at home in, maybe ever? Perhaps that’s why he finds himself at your place so often. He’s never been the one for daring, passionate relationships anyways, not that this lacks passion. It’s a just nice warmth that cradles the need he has inside him, and he feels so understood by you, something else that’s severely lacking in his life. 

And when you’re both craving some intimacy beyond a good cuddle, but too tired after craning over a keyboard or from whacking down trees/pulling weeds/monster hunting and whatever else you do, you’re so impressive, he thinks, he’ll pull down his pants so you can slide onto his cock. 

The first time was an accident, he’d pulled an all nighter, and almost didn’t even come over. But he missed you more than anything, and craved your touch, only to fall embarrassingly asleep when you got on top of him. He was mortified, barely looking you in the face when he woke up the next morning and realized what happened, but you just shrugged and said it was okay. You teased him about it after too, of course.

But it happened to be the best sleep he’s gotten in ages, and when he asked to try it again, you just obliged and now it’s just a part of your relationship. 

You fall asleep to kisses and hands roaming your body, curled up around each other in a way that satiates the loneliness he feels in himself. And then in the mornings, when it’s too early, the sun barely up, you coax him out of bed by riding him until he spills inside you with breathy whines. Pleased smiles are shared over breakfast and a kiss on the forehead before he goes back home.

Other times, when it’s raining in the mornings, and he’s already in his head, he wakes you with hard, desperate thrusts, drawing orgasms and moans from you until the dark thoughts go away. Luckily, you take the rainy days easier, allowing the two of you to stay in bed longer. He takes care of you then, apologizing for the way he treated you, not that you ever mind, and it almost always leads to another round. It's sweeter, tender. You whisper reassurances then, cupping his face and he kisses your brow. 

It starts happening outside of the farmhouse too now. On particularly boring days, you’ll visit him as he’s working, and while you take his job seriously, it’s become a habit to slide into his lap, a sly look on your face as you work on loosening his jeans before sinking down on him. You love the way he groans, head falling back and eyes rolling into his skull as he splits you open. His hands always fly up from his keys, gripping your waist until he remembers he has a job to do. And you stay there, peacefully drowsy until it’s finished, and then he bends you over the bed or couch. You stay the night, not leaving his room, sneaking out in the early morning after one too many knowing looks and comments from Robin afterwards. 

Sometimes, it’s when he’s playing games. Curled up in his lap again, back against his chest so he can rest his head on your shoulder to look at the screen. He twitches inside of you whenever the game gets intense, hips fucking into you as if it’s by reflex. It only makes him play worse, because then he’ll get lost in the feeling of your warmth around him. He passes the mouse for you to take over so he can focus on thrusting into your sweet spots, a hand on your hip to keep you stable and the other on your jaw, turning your face to kiss him  before urging you to focus on the game. 

Occasionally, you get impatient faster than he does, unexpectedly moving or adjusting on his lap throughout the game, making him moan straight into the mic. You give him an innocent look while he glares at you, making excuses to the other players. It repeats until you start moving your hips, bouncing up and down until he breaks. He doesn’t even try to win the game, just pushes away the keyboard and mouse so he can take you right on the desk. The fact that all his teammates could catch on turns him, and you, on more than it should. He rams into you, crooning dirty words, teasing hands never helping you finish until you’re crying and begging him for it. He always cums with the loudest, drawn out sounds, hips still moving until he’s too overstimulated to continue. He pulls you back into his lap with a chuckle and another kiss, ready to move to the bed for a cuddle until—

“Goddamnit Seb! You forgot to mute again!” 

He’s gonna have to apologize to Sam tomorrow. 

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Lmk what you guys think/which way is your fav hehe