#you’ll be ashamed in the morning

[hon3y-y]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ roommate!sukuna just can’t get enough of you…

sukuna finds his perverted roommate getting fucked and can’t look away

cw: voyeurism, pervy reader & sukuna, (ft satoru), masturbation (m&f), light overstimulation(m), Non curse AU

pt 2: here<3 pt 3: here<3 pt 4: here<3

masterlist

enjoy<3

roommate! Sukuna knows you touch yourself when he has girls over, so he makes sure to make it extra loud, having the girls basically sobbing on his cock. Meanwhile, you pathetically listen through the walls separating your rooms, hand lowered into your panties, trying to stay quiet.

You listen to the whiny mess he turns all of his hookups into, hearing the clapping of skin on skin and babbling that the girl spews, clearly drunk on pleasure. roommate! Sukuna goes for so long, and you listen to every second like a pervert. You hear every word he spits and imagine it’s you who he’s calling ‘good girl’ or ‘pretty whore’, cumming as many times around your wet fingers as you can.

Of course, roommate! Sukuna didn’t always know about his little perverted roommate. That was, until you came home one night, absolutely plastered, stumbling onto nearly every surface from barely being able to hold yourself up. As Ryo tried to help you across the apartment, you confessed your dirty secret, staring up at him with tears about how ashamed you felt, begging him for forgiveness.

Meanwhile, he was throbbing in his pants at the thought of his cute roomie desperately trying to get off because she was just too scared to ask him to fuck her stupid. he could imagine it, the way you would hopelessly hump your fingers, knowing it’ll never feel like him. the image made his ego swell. All he did was pat your head and tuck you in, and the next morning, acted as if nothing happened. not that you even realized, the end of the night still blacked out from your memory.

You decide that enough is enough, feeling ashamed by how your lack of sexual activities is being forced on your unsuspecting (👀) roommate. That’s what got you into this position:  meeting some random guy in the club and bringing him home, hoping that maybe by getting a good fuck, you’ll stop your perversion.

You and your date's moves are frantic, practically ripping off each other's clothes and desperately grinding on each other for some sort of friction. You end up in your room, articles of clothing scattered across the apartment that you didn’t care about, too busy with your head buried into the pillow as your date, whose name you learned is Satoru, licked your pussy like a lollipop, moaning like it was the sweetest candy he’s ever tasted. 

Roommate! Sukuna had been sleeping when he woke up to a thud on the wall connecting your rooms. It was a light thud, usually something he’d ignore and go back to sleep, but then it was a constant creak, followed by the sounds of your whimpers. At first, he thought you were up by yourself, trying to get off while he was sleeping, until the deep voice of a man groaned, “Fuck—take it, baby—such a good fuckin’ girl" 

Ryo nearly jumped out of bed. In the year you two have been roommates, you never invited anyone over; it was only him who would have random hookups. This was new. and as much as it was pissing him off, the bulge in his pants made the situation a little more complicated. That’s how he found himself outside your room, peering into the cracked door to watch you take another man’s dick.

You looked like you were in ecstasy—the way your hands gripped the sheets and your toes curled, the pitched whines of “yes, don’t stop—please satoru~” His hand automatically moved to palm his cock, watching as this man, Satoru, forced you deeper into the sheets, pounding into your pussy. Besides the noises that escaped your mouth, he could hear the squelch every time he plunged into your sopping cunt, making Ryo’s mouth water at how wet you must be. It almost made him angry. That was his neglected pussy, and here this guy was enjoying it. 

Still, he couldn’t deny how hot you looked. Sukuna’s body was on fire, and he moved to stroke his aching cock while picturing it as him. It was him plugging up that sweet pussy and making you cream around his cock, fucking you until you were a mess of tears and cum, leaving you shaking and unable to walk. His knees became weaker, gripping onto the walls to stroke his cock faster, and he ran his fingers over his sensitive tip, making his jaw drop.

roommate! Sukuna came all over his fingers, having to rush his hand to his mouth to stop the groan he desperately wanted to let out. His body racked and shuttered with pleasure, painting himself in his own cum. He couldn’t stop, though; Satoru had flipped you over, and now he could see the look on your face.

You looked so fucked out, panting and spreading your legs because you needed to be fucked so bad. The slight scrunch in your brow made him feral, working past the overstimulation and using his own release as lube to keep going. it was messy and completely unlike himself, but the sight of you cumming was addicting.

roommate! Sukuna, who is left quietly panting outside your door, still messy from his own cum, and still desperately horny.

roommate! Sukuna, who is officially waving the white flag in this stupid game he’s had going on, you’re his, and no one-night stand is taking that away.

a/n: hiiii<3 i’ve been super busy bc this semester KICKED MY ASS but it’s ending 🙏 so i might write more, we’ll see😵‍💫 also, i have seen requests and will hopefully upload some soon? no promises though but i’ll try! :)))

[pucksandpower]

It’s Only Natural

Max Verstappen x innocent!Reader

Summary: in which Max shows you that it’s okay to want

Warnings: 18+ content

You sit on the edge of the bed, your hands folded primly in your lap. You watch as Max moves about, discarding his shirt and stepping out of his jeans until he’s down to just his boxers. There’s an easy grace to his movements, like a predatory animal comfortable in its skin.

Your eyes trace over the curves and lines of his body appreciatively before you catch yourself and quickly look away, heat flooding your cheeks. You hear him chuckle.

“See something you like?”

You keep your gaze fixed firmly on the floor. “I wasn’t looking.”

The mattress dips as Max sits beside you. He tilts your chin up. Reluctantly you meet his stare, the grey of his eyes as vivid as the stormy sky.

“It’s okay, you know. To want me.” His thumb brushes over your bottom lip. “We’ve been together for months now. It’s only natural.”

You swallow hard, torn between embarrassment and yearning. “Wanting is … improper. Before marriage.” The words sound weak even to your own ears.

Max smirks. “Who told you that? Your parents? The church?” He leans in close, his breath hot on your ear. “They don’t own your body or your desires. Only you do.”

You shiver at his proximity, inhaling the scent of his skin. Like walking past a bakery first thing in the morning, the aroma of fresh bread wafting out onto the street. Your mouth waters.

“I know you feel it too,” Max murmurs. “This hunger. This heat between us.” His fingers trail down your arm, raising goosebumps in their wake. “Don’t be ashamed of it.”

Your breaths come faster. You’re trembling, but not from the cold. “Max ...”

He silences you with a kiss. His lips are firm yet soft, coaxing rather than demanding. The kiss deepens slowly, each brush of his mouth unraveling you further until you’re clinging to him, dizzy with want.

When you finally break for air, Max gazes at you tenderly. “How do you feel?”

You lick your tingling lips. “I-I don’t know. Confused. Like my body is doing things without my permission.” You press a hand to your heaving chest. “My heart is racing so fast.”

“That’s desire, liefje.” Max strokes your hair soothingly. “It’s new and frightening now, but you’ll get used to it.” He kisses your forehead. “There’s no need to be scared.”

You nod hesitantly. He’s right, this feeling is terrifying in its intensity. But it’s also tantalizing, a thirst you never knew needed quenching.

You take a deep breath. “What happens next?”

Max smiles encouragingly. “That’s up to you. We can take this as slow or as fast as you want. It’s your journey — I’m just your guide.” He lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. “You lead, I’ll follow.”

Reassured, you lean into him. “Kiss me again?”

“With pleasure.”

This time when Max’s lips find yours, you let your instincts take over. Your mouth moves shyly against his at first but grows bolder, mimicking the way he teases your bottom lip, coaxes your tongue. The tender exploration sends pulses of heat coursing through you. You’re lit up from the inside, like a lantern glowing in the dark.

You come up for air again, dizzy and breathless. Max’s eyes are hooded, his own breathing uneven. “How was that?”

You press closer, craving the hardness of his body. “I want more.”

Max grins. “Do you now?”

Before you can respond, he captures your mouth again, kissing you with a passionate urgency that steals your thoughts away. You cling to him as the last of your inhibitions burns up like paper held to a flame.

There is only feeling now — exquisite, terrifying, blissful feeling.

When Max finally releases you, you’re shaking all over. He brushes the hair back from your face tenderly. “Talk to me. How are you?”

You wet your parched lips. “I feel … alive. Awake.” You glance up at him almost shyly. “Thank you for waking me up.”

Max’s expression softens. “You’re welcome.” He lies back on the bed, opening his arms to you. “Come here.”

You curl into him without hesitation, resting your head on his chest. His steady heartbeat grounds you as his fingers trail up and down your back idly. You trace random patterns on his skin, marveling at the way it prickles under your touch.

“Can I ask you something?” You murmur.

“Of course.”

You chew your lip thoughtfully. “How did you know? That I wanted this?”

Max considers the question. “I saw how your body responded to mine, even when you tried to hide it.” His hand slides to your hip, rubbing gentle circles. “I heard how your breathing changed when I got close to you.”

You flush at the knowing tone in his voice.

“Most of all though, I recognized the longing in your eyes.” Max tilts your chin up so you have to meet his earnest gaze. “You and I are the same. Our bodies have needs we can’t ignore.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Is it always this … intense?”

Max laughs. “No, it gets easier. The more you open yourself to pleasure, the less it will overwhelm you.” He plays with a lock of your hair idly. “Think of your desire like a wild horse. Right now it’s bucking and straining at the reins. But with time and training, you’ll be able to ride it smoothly.”

You consider this. “Have you trained your horse well?”

“Very well,” Max says wryly. “We understand each other perfectly.”

You bite your lip. “Will you teach me?”

Max’s eyes darken. For a long moment he just looks at you, desire written plainly across his face. Your own excitement builds under that molten stare.

Finally he nods. “If that’s what you want.” His voice is slightly hoarse now. “We’ll take it slow. One step at a time.”

Your heart flutters wildly. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

Max clears his throat. “For now, just try to get comfortable being so close to me. Explore a bit.” His hand trails down your side. “Learn what feels good.”

You arch into his touch instinctively, craving more contact. Your mouths find each other again, hot and seeking. You let your hands wander across the warm planes of his chest, tracing each ridge and valley. When your fingers brush one of his nipples, Max makes a low sound that shoots desire through you like lightning.

You tear your mouth from his, eyes wide. “Did I hurt you?”

“God, no.” Max’s pupils are blown wide, fixed on you intently. “That felt good. Do it again.”

Emboldened, you experiment with touching him the way he touched you, learning which caresses make his breath hitch and muscles tighten. Before long Max is shaking under your hands, his control fraying at the edges.

“Enough,” he growls, grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the bed. “Any more and this lesson will be over far too soon.”

You grin up at him impishly. “Maybe next time then.”

Max groans. “You’re going to be the death of me.” But he’s smiling as he dips his head to kiss you lazily.

When he finally releases your wrists, you wrap your arms around him, enjoying the warmth and solidness of his body. You feel different now — more awake, more alive. Like you’ve stepped through a doorway into a bigger and brighter world.

“Thank you for today,” you whisper, meaning it with your whole heart. “I feel … free.”

Max kisses the top of your head tenderly. “You’ve always been free, schatje. I’m just helping you see it.” He lifts your chin so your eyes meet. “We’ve only just started. There are so many wonders still to show you.”

A thrill races through you at the promise in his voice. You settle against his chest again, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart as you fall asleep in his arms, unafraid of wanting anymore.

Your body and heart are finally coming home to each other.

***

Morning sun spills through the curtains, rousing you slowly from sleep. The other half of the bed is empty but still warm, and the faint clatter of dishes downstairs means Max is already up and making breakfast.

You stretch languidly, yesterday’s explorations still fresh in your mind. A newfound heat simmers in your veins, sending a flush across your skin.

You find Max in the kitchen, hair charmingly mussed, wearing only pajama bottoms that ride low on his hips. He grins when he sees you.

���Good morning, liefje. Sleep well?”

You come up behind him, sliding your arms around his trim waist. “Mmm I did,” you nuzzle into his bare shoulder. He smells warm and masculine. You press a kiss to his skin, eliciting a pleased hum.

“Keep that up and I’ll burn breakfast,” Max says wryly. He turns in your embrace, fingers tilting your chin up for a slow, simmering kiss. By the time he pulls back you’re breathless and tingling.

“What’s gotten into you today?” He looks delighted.

You bite your lip coyly. “I can’t stop thinking about last night.” You flatten your palms against his chest, feeling his heart pick up speed. “I want to keep learning.”

Max’s eyes darken. For a long moment he just looks at you, desire pooling in his heated gaze. “Finish eating first,” he says finally. “Then meet me upstairs.”

Excitement bubbles through you. You eat breakfast quicker than you ever have before, then hurry to the bedroom where Max awaits, sitting on the edge of the bed. He beckons you over with a crooked smile.

“Eager today, are we?”

You nod, leaning down to initiate a kiss. Max obliges, his mouth warm and seeking against yours. When you move to deepen it further, he gently grasps your shoulders and eases you back.

“Slow down, schatje. We’ve got all the time in the world.” His tone is kind but firm. “Let’s take this lesson nice and easy.”

You duck your head, chastened. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to rush.”

Max tips your chin back up, eyes tender. “It’s okay. I know everything feels new and exciting.” His thumb brushes your bottom lip softly. “But the best pleasures are the ones we savor.”

Heart swelling, you turn your head to press a kiss to his palm. “Teach me?”

Max nods. “Come sit with me.”

You settle beside him on the bed, pulse skipping when he draws you close. His hands glide up your arms, raising goosebumps, before coming to rest lightly around your neck. His touch is reverent, worshipful.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs. “I could spend hours exploring you.”

He kisses behind your ear, along your jawline, each press of his lips languid and unhurried. By the time he reaches your mouth you’re trembling, hyper-aware of everywhere your bodies touch.

Max takes his time kissing you deeply, thumbs sweeping over your throat and down to your collarbones. You lean into him, chasing more of that exquisite friction, but he doesn’t allow you to rush. He pulls back again and again until you relax, surrendering to his pace.

“There you go, just like that,” he praises. “Nice and slow.”

You keen softly when his fingers trail down to trace along the neckline of your shirt, back and forth. He toys with the top button, watching your face attentively.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” you breathe.

Max smiles and pops the first button open. Then he pauses, bending to kiss the new inch of exposed skin. Goosebumps prickle across your chest as he continues his unhurried path downward, kissing each new glimpse of flesh laid bare.

By the time he reaches the last button you’re trembling violently, head tipped back in bliss. Max’s strong hands sweep up your sides and around to unclasp your bra. You gasp as the garment falls away, leaving you bare before him.

Reverently he cups your breasts, thumbs sweeping over your tightened peaks. The sensation wrings a desperate moan from you.

“You’re exquisite,” Max marvels. He bends to take one nipple into his mouth and your vision goes white, senses overwhelmed by slick heat. He suckles you gently, littering kisses across your fevered skin until you’re writhing mindlessly against him.

“Max, please ...”

He kisses his way back up to your mouth, face alight with tenderness and desire. “What do you need?”

You clutch his shoulders, nearly sobbing. “You. I need you.”

Max groans, deepening the kiss until you’re drunk on him, on this feeling. His body shifts, pressing you down into the mattress, and you go willingly, eagerly.

“Not yet, liefje.” With monumental effort he stills, pulling back to look at you. His eyes are dark, lips kiss-swollen. “Is this too much?”

You shake your head desperately. “Don’t stop. Show me everything.”

Max hesitates, muscles corded with restraint. “Next time,” he grits out. “I want our first to be perfect.”

He rolls off you and you whimper at the loss of contact. Max gathers you close, stroking your hair as you slowly come down from your near-high.

“You were incredible,” he murmurs. “So receptive. So passionate.”

You cling to him, heart still pounding. “I want you so much it hurts.”

Max tips your chin up, gazing at you solemnly. “I know. And you’ll have me, I promise.” He kisses you sweetly. “But forcing things too soon will only dull the pleasure later.”

You know he’s right. With great effort you tamp down the fever in your blood, focusing on the warmth and strength of his embrace.

“Thank you for stopping,” you whisper. “I know it wasn’t easy.”

Max smiles wryly. “You have no idea.” He caresses your face tenderly. “But your pleasure means more to me than my own.”

You lick your suddenly parched lips. “I’m ready,” you say simply. “Whenever you think the time is right.”

Max’s eyes darken. For a long moment he just looks at you, stripped bare by yearning. Then he nods slowly. “Soon.”

***

The next few days pass in a haze of stolen kisses and wandering hands. Each touch stokes the fire between you higher, until you’re dizzy with anticipation.

When Max finally whispers that you’re ready, that tonight will be the night, you can scarcely breathe for excitement. He takes you upstairs after dinner, kissing you deeply before leaving to run you a bath.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.”

You change into the lacy lingerie set you bought just for this occasion, hands trembling. The ivory silk and lace hugs your curves perfectly, making you feel delicate and desired.

Max returns to find you sitting primly on the bed, heart in your throat. His eyes widen, traveling appreciatively over you.

“You’re a vision,” he murmurs. He sits beside you, hand coming up to caress the line of your throat, tantalizingly close to the swells of your barely concealed breasts. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

He kisses you, slow and deep, until you’re breathing hard. With gentle hands he undresses you, lips following the path of revealed skin. By the time the lingerie slips to the floor, you’re trembling and ready.

Max rises gracefully from the bed, shedding his own clothes. The hunger in his eyes steals your breath away. He’s beautiful like this, powerful muscle and taut sinew under smooth skin. Your apprehension melts into awed desire.

“Come,” he says simply, holding out a hand.

He leads you into the bathroom where rose petals float across steaming water. Candles line the counter, filling the air with a soft glow.

Max helps you into the tub before sliding in behind you. You sigh, relaxing back against his chest. For a while he just holds you, lips grazing your temple, your cheek, the curve of your shoulder.

“Are you nervous?” He asks eventually. His breath tickles your ear.

“A little,” you admit. “Mostly just excited.” You cover his hands with your own, drawing them around to span your stomach. “I’m ready for you to have all of me.”

Max nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “You honor me.” His palms glide higher, cupping your breasts as his thumbs tease your nipples. You arch into the caress, lips parting in bliss. He kisses down the slope of your neck until you’re mindless, head falling back onto his shoulder.

“Max ...” His name catches on a moan.

He kisses just beneath your ear. “Tell me what you need, schatje.”

You take one of his hands, guiding it lower beneath the water. Max exhales harshly when you press his fingers between your legs.

“Please,” you beg softly.

Max complies, caressing you in unhurried circles. The slick glide of his fingers has you shaking, pulsing against his hand. He works you higher with gentle expertise until your climax crashes over you like a wave. You cry out, collapsing limply back against him.

Max holds you through the aftershocks, murmuring praise and adoration. As you float back down he washes you tenderly, hands worshipping every inch of your spent body. By the time he helps you from the bath your nerves have melted away, replaced only by bliss.

Max dries you off before scooping you up and carrying you to bed. He lays you down reverently and you reach for him, needing to feel him against you.

He goes willingly, covering your body with his, all heated skin and taut muscle. You revel in the delicious weight of him, the intimacy of full-body contact. Max kisses you deeply, one hand trailing down to lift your knee, opening you up to him.

He pulls back just far enough to meet your eyes. “Are you sure?” His voice resonates with restraint.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Please, Max.”

He kisses you sweetly as he finally, carefully, joins your bodies. You gasp into his mouth at the feeling of him filling you so exquisitely. For a moment you’re frozen, overwhelmed by the intensity.

Max stills, letting you adjust. “Talk to me, liefje.” His voice is tight. “Does it hurt?”

You run your hands up his back, grounding yourself in the solidness of him. “No. It just feels … big.” You shift your hips experimentally and have to stifle a moan. “But so good.”

Max relaxes slightly, some of the tension leaving his frame. “We’ll take this slow.” He kisses across your cheekbones, your fluttering eyelids, soothing you as your body adjusts to accommodate him. “Just breathe. There’s no rush.”

When you finally nod for him to move, he rocks into you in achingly gradual strokes. Each glide lights you up from within, pleasure swelling inexorably. Your legs come up to wrap around his waist, taking him deeper.

Max groans. “You feel incredible.” He quickens just slightly, just enough to wring gasps from you both. “So perfect for me.”

You cling to him, this man you love beyond reason, beyond promise. He fills you in every way, heart, body and soul. “Max,” you breathe against his lips like a prayer, and his pace stutters.

“Say it again.” His eyes are molten, searing into yours.

“Max.” You pour every ounce of love and devotion you feel into his name.

With a ragged moan he claims your mouth, kissing you fiercely even as his hips snap against yours. You cry out, senses flooded by him, by the feeling of your bodies joining so exquisitely. The pleasure crests unbearably high before you shatter, clenching and shuddering around him.

Max follows you over with a harsh groan, chest heaving against yours. For an eternity all you know is each other, breathing as one.

Max rolls to the side so he doesn’t crush you, pulling you along so you stay cradled against him. You cling tightly, still joined, overwhelmed by what you’ve just shared.

Max tilts your chin up, eyes tender but concerned. “Are you alright?”

You smile shakily, smoothing back his sweat-damp hair. “I’m perfect.” You press soft kisses across his face. “That was … everything.”

Relief breaks across his face. He wraps you in his arms, tucking your head under his chin. “I love you,” he whispers into your hair. “Beyond anything.”

You snuggle closer, basking in the warmth of his embrace, the steadiness of his heart. “I love you too. Forever.”

Eventually Max slips from your body and you mourn the loss, even as exhaustion tugs at you. He cleans you gently with a warm cloth before pulling you against him once more.

You drift toward sleep, lulled by the soothing strokes of his fingers through your hair. Just before slumber takes you, Max presses his lips to your temple.

“Thank you for your gift tonight,” he breathes. “I’ll spend my whole life trying to be worthy of it.”

[l1tw1ck]

The Fall of Spider-Man

bottom!ftm Miguel x top!masc!villain reader

🕷️ Word Count: 1,897 🕷️

AFAB Language Used

CW: Non-Con, Kidnapping, Lingerie, Fingering, Squirting, Cunnilingus, Overstimulation, Crying, Corruption, Creampie, Nipple Play, Pregnancy Mention, Stockholm Syndrome (Kinda?)

Miguel’s eyes shoot open. He immediately analyzes his surroundings. He’s tied up and on the floor. He can't see anything but he can tell he’s wearing lingerie. He feels sick. His first instinct is to try and get out of his restraints but no matter how hard he tries, nothing happens. He’s powerless. How? Why? When? Where the hell is he? He looks around the dark room, stopping to look at a door. There's light coming from behind it and he can hear movements. Footsteps. Getting closer and closer.

“You’re awake! Good morning, Miguel.” You smile, turning the lights on before walking towards him. “How are you feeling?”

“Who are you?” He asks.

You give him your name. “The person who's going to defeat Spider-Man once and for all.” You grin. “Although my methods are a bit unconventional.” You chuckle.

Miguel keeps his mouth shut, waiting to hear what you have to say next. Your confidence scares him. It's not like he's never met a confident villain before, it's honestly less likely to meet an insecure one, but your confidence is scary. You know something he doesn't. He knows you're dangerous. He always chooses to fight but everything inside him is screaming to run away. It's not like he has the choice now though.

“Pretty soon, you’ll be my beautiful husband and the father of our children.” You kiss his forehead. His heart drops. “But first, I’m gonna have some fun with you.” You kneel down and caress his cheek. He grimaces in disgust. “Let me give you the play by play.” You push his lacy red panties aside. “First, I’m gonna play with this pretty pussy of yours and give it a lot of love.” You rub his clit. “Then, once I’m done, I’m gonna slide my cock inside of you. I’ll make sure to go real slow, make you feel every inch of my cock.” You bring your fingers down to his entrance and push two of them in.

“Yo- you're sick.” He spits on you.

You wipe your cheek. “I didn't give you permission to speak, or spit.” You slap his cunt, earning a moan from him. “Watch yourself, Miguel.”

He looks at you angrily but doesn't say anything, too ashamed of the sound he just made and too afraid of the consequences to do so. You push your fingers in and out of his cunt, giving Miguel unwelcomed pleasure. “You like that?” You smirk, moving faster. He bites his lip to silence his moans. “I know you do. Even if you try to deny it, your body doesn't lie.”

He hates this so much.

“And then, I’ll pick up the pace. I’ll fuck you rough and hard. So rough that you won't be able to think. So hard that you’ll cry.” You push your fingers all the way in and thumb his clit, moving your fingers inside of him absentmindedly. He tries to fight against the pleasure but it's no use. He’s going to come.

“I’d love to see you cry.” You grin. He’s not going to cry. He might do a plethora of shameful things tonight but one thing he isn't going to do is cry. He refuses to. “I know you think it's impossible but it's not. And I can't wait to see you break.” You punctuate your last word with a hit to his g-spot. Miguel gasps, hips raising in the air as he squirts. Miguel looks down at himself in shame, cheeks burning hotter than a flame. He’s never done that before. He hates that you're the reason it happened. “Oh Miguel…” You let out a sharp breath.

You move in between his legs and dig into his wet cunt, slurping up his slick before tonguing his sensitive hole. Miguel squirms around in protest. Why does this feel so good? He wants to curse you out but he's worried about what you’ll do if he acts out. He feels terrible and so fucking good at the same time. He wants to kill you but he also doesn't want you to stop. He rolls his eyes back and squirts again, feeling extremely exhausted.

You pull away and stand up, stripping down to nothing. Miguel looks at your cock in horror. That's not going to fit! He desperately tries to get away but he can't do much in the position he's in.

“You’re really boosting my ego, Miguel.” You chuckle, kneeling back down and grabbing his waist. You pull him close to you so his thighs are on yours and your shaft is right against his cunt. “I’m going to enjoy this.” You look at him like the 5 star meal he is. You move him so that his pussy is sliding up and down your length, bringing the both of you pleasure.

He bares his fangs, showing you how angry he is without speaking. “Aw, you don't like this?” You frown, faking sympathy. “Or is it that you want something else?” You grin. “You want me to fuck you, is that it? You want me to finally fuck you?”

Miguel shakes his head rapidly. You move him backwards, just enough for you to be able to make an easier entrance. You point your tip against his clit, smearing pre cum over it and sliding down in between his folds. You tease him with your entrance, you're gently thrusting into him but only the tip is entering him. He can't stand the feeling. You eventually stop and slowly push your cock inside of him. You weren't exaggerating when you said he’d feel every inch of you. You’re practically tearing him apart with the way you’re stretching him out. You bite your lip, thoroughly enjoying his pussy. “I think I’m in heaven.”

If you’re in heaven, then Miguel’s in hell. You slowly slide in and out of him, reveling in his wet warmth. “That's right baby, sit back and take it like the pretty little slut you are.” You place your hand over the bulge of your cock on his stomach, enjoying the way it feels as you move and how sexy he looks with his tummy bulging. “You’re doing so good for me, you know that? Doing so well…”

He doesn't want to be good for you. He doesn't want you to enjoy this. If he wasn't afraid of the consequences he’d curse you out. You rub his clit gently, causing his breathing to turn shallow. “I wanna feel you come..” You mutter. “Come for me, baby.”

He grits his teeth, trying to stop himself from giving you what you want but it's too difficult. He can't hold back. It all feels too good, his pussy feels way too good, he can't do anything to prevent this. He shuts his eyes and comes, walls fluttering around your length. “You’re such a good boy, Miguel. You may be prickly but at least you know how to follow orders.” You caress his cheek. He turns away from your touch. “Even after all that…you're still trying to keep up this facade?” You pull away and turn him onto his stomach. “You won't be able to pretend any longer, Miguel.” You raise his ass in the air and plunge your length fully into him. He gasps. Miguel doesn't even get a minute to adjust to the new position thanks to you suddenly pounding into him. He rolls his eyes back, letting out uncontrollable moans as you fuck the shame out of him. He can barely think over the explicit sounds of your hips snapping against his ass and the loud wet sounds of your cock sliding in and out of his sensitive pussy. You're going too fast for him to even try and act like he doesn't like it. He’s always had a thing for being treated roughly and you're fulfilling his need for it. You pull on his hair, causing him to let out an almost scream-like moan as he squirts.

“Fu- fuck-” He feels tears welling up in his eyes as you continue fucking him through his orgasm.

“‘M gonna give you the child you always wanted, Miguel.” You fuck him even rougher than before, chasing your orgasm. Tears flow rapidly from Miguel’s eyes, as if there was a blockage that contained all his tears and prevented him from crying all these years. He sobs, crying loudly as you overwhelm him with pleasure. It feels good but it's too much, he can't handle it. He loves it but he needs it to stop. “Ah, I love hearing you cry..” You slow down your thrusts and dump your load inside of him. Miguel uses this break to finally catch his breath and calm down.

“Aw, was it too much for you, baby?” You coo, rubbing your hand down his back.

Miguel nods. “Ple- please..” He whimpers.

You pull out and turn him around. You pick him up and sink him down on your cock. You place your hands on his waist and kiss his cheek. “You’re so pretty when you cry, you know that?” You caress his face gently. He sniffles, not sure how to feel about that. You press your lips against his, kissing him slowly and sensually. Miguel reciprocates the kiss, following your tongue movements and subconsciously grinding down on your cock. He feels a little less stimulated than before. He feels like he's about to have an orgasm that’ll never come and somehow it feels good. He doesn't know how he feels about you now but you make him feel good, and thanks to the current state of mind he's in now, that's all that matters.

You pull away from the kiss and pepper kisses down his throat and to his chest. You undo the clip in the middle of his bra, causing the two cups to separate and reveal his breasts. You latch onto his nipple, sucking it gently while your hand goes to pull and twist on the other one. Miguel whimpers in pleasure. His nipples are so sensitive, he’ll definitely come from this. “mmh..” Miguel grinds down harder as he orgasms, his pussy clenching and unclenching around your length. You pull away from his nipple, your saliva dripping down the brown bud.

He still despises you but he knows he'll be stuck with you from now on. He’ll eventually learn to love you.

Miguel turns on the radio as he starts cooking breakfast. The reporter talks about all the crime going on in the city and he doesn't seem to care, even though he’s back to normal and completely autonomous, he has no intention of going out to fight. He wants to stay home with you. The Spider Society’s been trying to contact him but he's ignored all their calls. He only leaves the house for dates and groceries, why would he go anywhere without you? He loves you so much, he wants to stay by your side as much as he can. Nobody seems to understand it but he doesn't care to explain it to them. Peter B. and Jessica have been trying to convince Miguel to come back and many spider people have tried to kill you but to no avail. He doesn't want to come back, especially not when they're trying to kill his beloved. He’s perfectly content with where he is now and he can't wait to have his first child with you.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Overprotective

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!reader

Summary: Your son is due to be born any day now and Feyd is very protective. He kills anyone who so much as lays a finger on you, but it’s gotten out of control. 

Notes: this was an anon request. same Feyd x reader from The Harkonnen’s Sweet Thing and The Harkonnen’s Claim. *can be read alone*

Warnings: mention of murder and pregnancy. 

Words: 1100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

“You’re mad,” Feyd says, his smile dropping at the sight of your frown. Your arms are crossed over your swollen belly as you lean back against the headboard of your bed. He closes the door behind him. “Why are you mad?”

You roll your eyes. He knows exactly why you’re mad. By your count, you’ve been pissed at him twenty-three times in the past month and a half and you don’t care for your widely-known highly-intelligent husband playing naive. “Don’t act like you don’t know. We only ever fight about one thing, Feyd. One.” 

Feyd sighs and steps closer to the mattress, but when you put your hand up, he stops in his tracks. Your throat strains as you swallow your grin. You still get little flutters in your belly when he demonstrates how you have that kind of power over him, but you cannot let him see the satisfaction on your face now. If he sees you smile, he will smile, which means you will have lost because he’ll know he’s won, and when he wins he gets turned on, so then you’ll get turned on, and then you’ll end up fucking. But you cannot be fucking right now. He needs to learn a lesson. His hard dick in his wife’s warm pussy will not achieve any lesson-learning. If anything, it will encourage his bad behavior. 

“You killed another one,” you tell him, and he doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed; though that’s far from surprising.

Feyd crosses his arms over his broad chest. “He touched you.”

“I tripped.”

“And then he touched you.”

“He caught me.”

“So you agree,” Feyd says with a sharp nod. “I’m glad we are on the same page.”

Your huff descends into a groan as the heels of your palms press against your closed eyelids. “Your wife—your heavily pregnant wife—would’ve fallen on her ass if he hadn’t.”

“He shouldn’t have let you trip in the first place,” Feyd tells you. “He was meant to ensure you have a clear and safe walking path.”

Your lips part, mouth opening and closing and opening again as you search for a response. However, you end up with the same one you always do: “You are unbelievable,” you reply, shaking your head. “Twenty-three servants, Feyd! It has surpassed extremes! You killed one for brushing my hair–”

“Touching—and she was pulling on it too hard.”

“You killed one for helping me dress in the morning when you had already been called away for a meeting.”

“I prefer you naked anyway,” he says, shrugging, a smug grin stretching across his face. “Naked and in this bed.”

You raise a brow. “And the one who helped me sit down so I could watch you in the arena?”

“Ah, that one—” Feyd waves his finger as he clicks his tongue “—that one thought I wouldn’t notice because you were so high up in the stands. I don’t like sneaky people,” he reminds you, though you’re plenty aware of how he handles deception and trickery. “You should have told me you planned to attend and I would’ve helped you well before it started.”

Ignoring his point, you retort, “You cannot keep killing everyone.”

Feyd groans. “My love, you’re in too delicate a state,” he says. “I gathered all of them together not two months ago and explicitly forbade them from laying a finger on you. It is not my fault if they break the rules. And what sort of Baron am I if I do not enforce punishment?”

You hum in dissatisfaction. “You do understand you put me and your child in more danger by not permitting their assistance?”

Immediately, his brow pinches. His head turns to look away from you and when his jaw clenches, you realize the weight of your mistake. A sickening feeling settles in your gut. Your face falls from frustration into total devastation. “Oh God, Feyd…”

“I do not put you in danger,” he says, and it’s so shockingly meek that your heart cracks right down the middle. Not once in almost two years have you heard that tone leave his mouth, and you think maybe his eyes have become glassy, but you’re praying it’s a trick of the low lighting in your bedroom. Feyd has never cried in front of you, if he's ever cried at all, and you hope you didn’t just unfairly yank that vulnerability out of him. 

“I’m so sorry. That isn't what I meant,” you whisper, sinking into your shame. You know it’s such a sensitive topic for him and you spoke without thinking. You reach your hand toward him. “Come here….please.”

Feyd stares at you for a long moment, but then he sighs through his nose and walks over to sit at your side atop the mattress. No tears—your breath shudders in relief. One hand grasps his and your lips brush his knuckles. The other cups his cheek as you guide his forehead to rest on yours. 

“You protect me,” you swear to him. “No one could ever keep me safe the way you do, and I know that's all you want, but our son is coming soon. We will need help. I can’t birth this baby without a doctor and that doctor will have to touch me. Me and our son.”

The heat of Feyd's heavy breath warms your face. You wait for his response but he doesn’t have one, and instead, he shifts to lie down. You adjust your body until you’re flat on the mattress beside him. “Sometimes,” he starts as he rubs his palm over your stomach, “I have dreams about the three of us living elsewhere. Everyone is forced to leave us alone and all we have to care about is each other and our child.”

Feyd kisses your exposed shoulder, and in that moment, you’re reminded of how different he has become. He’s transformed from someone whose sole ambition was to be the Baron—a man driven to control this planet and have the people of Giedi Prime bow to him; a man who sought destruction and pain and power—to a man who secretly craves a bit of peace for his family. Though no one other than yourself sees this side of him, it’s hard to watch him tackle that burden, especially when you know you’re the responsible party. 

“What have I done to you, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen?” you mutter as you press your lips to his forehead. 

He chuckles lowly and hugs you into his body. “You turned me soft.”

“You kill servants without batting an eye.”

“Fine,” he relents. “As soft as I’m capable of being.”

[teymars]

NSFW hc’s for the Sully men bc I am bored:

MDNI

General:

• They are each EXTREMELY fertile, pregnancy is almost inescapable when you’re with one of these boys.

• On top of being very fertile, they enjoy breeding their women more than anything, so cock-warming is a nonnegotiable.

• They have great stamina, allowing them to go round after round, ensuring they “fuck you properly”.

• They aren’t particularly vocal, (unless overstimulated) but the growling, grunting and whimpering in your ear never ceases.

• Major pleasure doms fs

• Think with their dicks more than anything (specifically Jake and Lo’ak)

• They enjoy scenting and marking their women in every way possible, even if it’s just leaving you full of leaking cum, to fend off other interested men.

Jake:

• He will happily be late to any of his duties if it means an opportunity to fuck you full.

• Is especially sensitive about you touching his jewels, the feeling of them swelling within your small grasp always has him keening.

• Won’t admit it aloud but he’s totally came untouched to the thought of you in lingerie, giving him a lap-dance.

• Hates when you hide your noises from him, he doesn’t give two shits if somebody is standing 5ft away, let them know you’re his.

• Likes to fuck around by grinding against you in public, not so subtly. He has no regrets when you’re all needy and wet for him by the evening.

• Enjoys littering your inner thighs with deep-purple marks, secretly hoping they are noticeable to other people later on.

• Uses his old camera to create some fun videos with you, mainly so he can fuck into his own fist whilst you’re busy.

• Craves nights where you beg him to be rough, sure he enjoys making slow tender love to you, but being able to use you as he pleases always excites.

Neteyam:

• Is a huge family guy, consistently keeping you bred and arguing that his heart will never be full enough of you and your ever-growing family.

• Prefers your muffled moans and gasps, he’d rather be the only man in the universe to hear such sounds from you, he can prove you are all his in so many other ways after all.

• He is always in favour of doggy-style. He’d never pass up the chance to mount and rut into you with all the energy he has. Simultaneously pushing your head into the cushions of your shared bed.

• He will lean over your shoulder and whisper the filthiest nothings, accompanied by licking your hot pulse-point, hoping to encourage copious amounts of slick from you to aid in his relentless pounding.

• Absolutely has a dick and tongue piercing. Though he may be a bit ashamed by his past foolishness, he soon figures the endless orgasms they produce from you are quite worth it.

• If he isn’t thinking tactically or about what his next meal will be (probably you), he’s planning all the positions he will put you in throughout the night.

• Gets especially needy in the mornings, often waking you up with the prodding of his swollen cock-head, at your already soaked entrance.

• Is especially sensitive on his tip, the way your walls squeeze and slide over it have him near cumming on the spot each time. When it pushes against the textures of your cervix though, he dives over the edge practically every time. (Good thing he’s got that endless stamina)

Bonus: • Will lazily thrust into you throughout the early morning, coaxing both your orgasms slowly before thrusting forward abruptly and emptying every last drop into your aching cunt, remaining there until he is 110% certain you’ll be giving him another child to cherish.

Lo’ak:

• Loves to sit and watch you fuck yourself with your fingers all evening, smirking consistently because he KNOWS his cock has ruined you for anything & anyone else.

• Will comfortably have a conversation with any family member over the comm devices, while fully sheathed inside your warmth.

• Will attempt to breed you anywhere, anytime regardless of who is around. That man has his priorities set fs.

• Fucking creams himself when you openly submit to him, wether it be through a suggestive “yes sir” or spreading yourself open upon your shared bed, ready for him.

• Bites onto your shoulder to muffle his increasing moans when your soft pussy becomes too much for him. The feeling of his cock’s ridges hooking into your wet walls only intensifying this.

• Most sensitive at his slit, the second you tease your delicate fingers or hot tongue along it, he is gone. His hips will be jolting as he fights to hold back an orgasm, succumbing to the tantalising feeling of your pinkie-finger pushing into his tiny slit, teasing him.

• Secretly wants nipple piercings but would never express that openly, he fears what will become of him the day you realise how stimulated his tits can get. Sticks to ear piercings instead and is yet to grasp how Neteyam dealt with the pain of piercing his own cock.

• Also unlike Neteyam, he is not as fussed about ensuring his bloodline carries on through the next 20 generations, BUT he does take pride in having a family with you and will never refuse breeding you so long as you’ll let him.

And that’s all, feel free to speak on any of your own hc’s!! 🩵

[007reid]

sub spence returning from prison :( hasn’t been inside for way too long and he’s extra whiny and sensitive </3 and reader is usually more teasing but after being so long she’s just soft and giving to everything he desires

FERAAALLLL!!! enjoy hun🤍

dreams. spencer reid (18+)

spencer reid x fem!reader, 3k (it got a bit out of control...)

summary: exactly what the prompt says😻 tiny bit of angst cuz it’s post prison spencer, cmon

warnings: sub spencer x dom fem!reader, masturbating (fem), unprotected sex, p in v, handjob, fingering, riding, creampie, cum play kinda. just spencer being a pathetic lil boy. tell me if i missed anything!

spencer’s been more closed off, and you get it. you do. you had expected more excitement, more of the banter and things to go back like normal like it was before it happened but you know it’s all wishful thinking. it hurts, to accept that your spencer isn’t really your spencer anymore, it’s that damned prison’s spencer; not your sweet spencer who wears scarves and has christmas lights in his eyes all year long but the prison’s spencer who looks half dead and trudging through everyday miserable.

you know he’s trying his best too, and that part hurts the most. he tries to smile for you, tries to replace all the pieces and put it back but no piece fits. you keep reassuring yourself. baby steps. you’ll make it work. you’ll have to.

today has been your favorite day yet, and the day has barely even started. instead of being on the other side of the bed, curling up into himself and staying as far away from you as possible, you wake up to find his head buried in your neck with his arm thrown over your stomach, curls tickling your jaw.

“im afraid to touch you, y/n,” spencer had admitted, his first week back. he looked guilty and ashamed. “you’re too clean for me to touch. my hands are dirty. they’re always dirty.”

still sleepy, you reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers, tracing the skin of his wrist. at the touch, spencer immediately jolts awake and backs himself up before the sleepiness even clears from his face. your boy used to be able to sleep through turbulence on the plane and your heart breaks at the anxiety in his eyes.

his breathing is rushed as he settles down, unconsciously scooting further away from you as you try latching onto the sleeve of his shirt. "sorry, i'm sorry," you whisper over and over. "i'm sorry honey, i didn't mean to--"

"i know you didn't," spencer snaps and you backtrack. his face crumbles and he hides his head in his hands. the table turns and sorry's falls out his mouth like rain drops during a storm. "i don't mean to snap, i just got scared, in the cell i..." he trails off, frowning at himself. ever since he's got back he refuses to tell you about anything that's happened in there, stopping and cutting himself off whenever he accidentally does and you guess it's for the better. "'m sorry." he brush away the sheets and gets off the bed. "i'll be right back."

you know better than to follow as he heads to the bathroom, door closing shut and locked behind him. you stare at the dent in the mattress that's finally there after sleeping alone for three months and hops off the bed yourself, going to make coffee.

***

spencer starts relaxing as the day goes on, not by much but you notice it. he probably feels bad for what happened in the morning and just wants to make it up to you by being what you want him to be; soft and affectionate like he used to and finally letting himself to touch you, linger his fingers over your arm as he passes you while you make breakfast and sitting close enough to where you both touch.

it's night, and you're in a simple tank, ready for bed. spencer's head is in your lap and the tv plays a random show but your attention is on smoothing out the spencer's curls, tugging and pulling until you get a purring spencer reid in your lap, eyes closed and humming contently to himself.

"you tired yet?" you ask, eyes on the tv. spencer nuzzles his head closer to your stomach.

"mhm. no."

"kay," you dip your head down, sparing a kiss on the pouting boy's lips, aiming for a light, sweet peck because spencer's not really ready for anything else otherwise but you're surprised when he starts to deepen it, teeth nagging at your bottom lip, asking. out of breath, you pull back and he sits up from your lap, crashing into you again and he's insistent, needy as little pants fall from his lips as you press him against the couch, climbing on top of him.

"missed you so much," spencer breathe, hands closing around your hips and tugging you closer. legs positioned outwards from either side of his torso, he moans into your mouth when the heat of your clothed pussy rub gently against his hardening cock and you miss this almost as much as you miss him, spending all three months either too depressed to do anything or cumming from your fingers and then hugging his pillow later.

you run your thumb over the spit on his lip, crooning. "look so pretty," you whisper, rutting against his hips. spencer whines, soft and desperate, a hand hesitantly coming up to grope at your breast, sandwiching your hardening nipple between his fingers. "been so long, spence, you forgot how to touch me?" you tease at the unsureness and awkwardness in the way he moves to touch you. spencer shakes his head frantically.

"dreamt about you," he says eagerly, pressing his lips on the side of your mouth and then all over your face. "every night. missed you so so bad. fuck, y/n," he gasps as you start grinding on him, impatient.

you kiss him hard, pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing as you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, just having him like this, pliant and here and not away. "what," you say, between kisses, each one messier and rushed than the last. "what did you dream about?" spencer whines. "hm?"

he falters, face getting visibly red under the dim lighting. he mumbles something under his breath, and you sneak a hand between your pressed bodies, palming him through his navy owl pajamas. "speak up, honey," you say, and spencer squirms, bucking his hips forward into your palm.

"i dreamed a lot of dreams," he says in a rush, breathing heavily, cheeks rosy. it's not the answer you're looking for. you tut.

"you know that's not what i asked, spence," you say, hand on his jaw as you push his face up to look at you. his eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated and lips red and parted, looking the spitting image of what you've been fingerfucking yourself to for months.

he whimpers, words stuck to his throat, embarrassed. you press your hand harder against his dick and his head knocks into your shoulder, burying his face in your neck, too humiliated to look at you in the eyes. "i dreamed you touched yourself and rode me and said i couldn't touch and couldn't cum but i did anyway 'cause i'm fucking pathetic," he confesses against your skin. "woke up and couldn't even touch myself cause of my cellmates and i--" your hands slip under his shirt and spencer does a full body shiver, your fingers hot against his skin.

"does that mean you haven't cum since you've been in there baby?" spencer ignores you, too distracted as you sway your hips against his rock hard cock. "spencer,"

he whines, and that's enough of an answer for you. "my poor baby," you coo, digging your fingers into his hair. "so wind up."

"need you," he whimpers, hands frantically clawing at your side, trying to touch as much of you as possible. "needa be in you, please. please,"

"in bed baby," you kiss him sweetly, wrapping your legs around his waist as he stands, supporting you with only one arm. you leave hickies on his neck while you wait for him to reach the bedroom, running your tongue over his skin to soothe them.

he lays you on the bed gently, tall frame towering over you as he sets you down but spencer still cowers under you despite it all. you remove your shirt and shorts as he settles down and when you turn around, he's staring, unabashedly, cock making an obvious dent in his thin pajamas, and the opportunity basically presented itself.

you start to slowly spread your legs, propping yourself up with your elbows and trailing a hand between your legs to rest at your lace panties. a devilish smirk on your face as spencer’s adam’s apple bobs visibly, brown eyes hungry and waiting as you press slight pressure on your clothed clit, knocking your head back.

spencer scrambles up to a sitting position, anxiously looking at you. “y/n,” he says, voice unusually high, flustered. “don’t—“ his voice breaks off as you start moving your fingers in circle-eights, sighing to yourself. “don’t—come here.”

you shoot him a warning look when he starts coming closer. spencer freezes. “thought this was what you wanted, pretty boy,” you purr. there is already a patch of wetness in your panties, and you linger your fingers at the waistband.

“not now,” spencer whines, insistent. “i’m so hard, wanna be in you so bad, please,” and despite how much prison had hardened him up, turned him into an entirely different person, spencer is still luckily the same in bed; easy to wind up and begs to get what he wants. too often it doesn’t work in his favor. tonight it might.

“you know what to do, baby boy,” you tell him, nudging your underwear off and tossing it somewhere in the room. spencer backs off, curling up into himself as his eyes remain pasted on you, watching. staring. you’re soaked, rubbing slowly at your clit, the air cool against your pussy. you keep an eye open, watching spencer for his ticks and reactions and it turns you on even more, seeing how desperate and needy he is, trying to rut against the sheets as you dip a finger inside yourself.

“none of that spence,” you tut. “you know that’s not the rules.”

he sighs frustratedly, stopping in his tracks, ever the good and obedient boy for you. you continue to play with yourself, slowly working up to two fingers and pressing down on your clit with your thumb, hearing spencer’s indiscreet panting from the other side of the bed as he watches, puppy eyes in full effect as he silently begs to have you closer. you whine as you curl your fingers inside yourself, and spencer’s just about had it.

“y/n,” he pleas, sounding like he’s about to cry. “i—it’s hurts, i wanna…”

you take pity on him. you’re all stripped naked and he’s still fully clothed, down to the halloween themed socks. “what do you want honey?”

“i—“ spencer gasps, squirming on the sheets. “uuhhgg…gonna cum i—“

“you gonna cum just from watching me touch myself?” you ask, amused. fair enough, he hasn’t cum in three months and you’re surprised he’s not permanently hard at this point. “gonna cum in your pants like a teenager spence? how pathetic are you?”

“y/n!” his voice trembles and he sounds so sweet, so needy for you and you give in. it’s hard not to, and you keep up at the act but at the end of the day spencer always gets what he wants. the begging strategy does do him some good.

you crawl over to him, placing yourself on his lap and he’s extremely hard beneath you, cock curving up from the thinness of his pajamas, getting a real good look at him. his eyes are rimmed red and tears are threatening to spill out and you lift his shirt over his head. “god youre so fucking beautiful,” you throw his shirt off the bed, tilting his head up to look at you. spencer groans at your words, hands immediately going to touch you, roaming your bare skin and nails digging into your waist.

“missed you,” he whimpers, lips at your neck as you get his bottoms off. “want this everyday, think of you everyday, fuck—“

“so hard for me honey,” you coo, stroking him through his underwear and then getting that off too. his cock, finally naked presses against his stomach, is a raging red, beads of precum leaking at the tip. “prettiest boy,” you whisper in his ear, taking his cock in your hand, smearing the precum over his cock as soft whimpers falls out of his mouth, inching closer to your touch.

“y/n,” he says, and it seems like it’s the only thing he can say. “y/n, y/n—“ you start to grind on him, sliding your pussy against his cock and spencer turns delirious, squeezing at your hips and wanton sounds coming out of his mouth, begging and cursing for nothing at all. the head of his cock rubs against the entrance of your pussy and the both of you moan, hips collapsing into each other.

his fingers finds their way to your entrance and begins prodding, and you whine as his middle finger slides in, thick and just right and it’s the feeling you’ve been trying to replicate but can’t get. “you’re so tight yn, fuck,”

“add another finger, spence,” you demand. spencer does, and the stretch burns only temporarily and you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and reeling yourself in so you can be as close to him as possible. lifting your hips, you start to fuck yourself on his fingers, impatient and horny and spencer is looking at you with fucking stars in his eyes, awed.

you never get too emotional or whiny during sex, that’s mostly all spencer but you can’t help bury your face in the dip of his shoulder blades and muffle your high moans against his skin, just glad that your spencer is back and this isn’t a cruel dream. spencer pulls his fingers out and you let out a displeased sigh. reaching down, you take spencer’s cock in your hands, smeared all over the tip with his precum and your wetness and spencer’s breath hitches in this throat, nearly jumping away at your touch.

you slowly guide his dick to your entrance, lifting your hips and all spencer does is watch, getting special treatment as you do all the work, slapping his dick against your pussy, eliciting a filthy sound from the both of you before rubbing the head of his cock against your open pussy. before he’s even in, spencer is already making these ridiculous noises, begging and panting and whimpering, hair falling into his eyes and sweat beading on his nose.

you quickly swoop down in a brave motion, bottoming out and it hurts, only temporarily before the stretch eases into pleasure and you miss it, miss him, so damn much and spencer’s already in another fucking world, nails digging at your hips.

“fuck, fuck, y/n—“ he whimpers weakly, chanting your name like a mantra as you start to move your hips, riding yourself on his cock. you know he can’t last any longer and you’re surprised he’s even managed to last this long so far, pulling out until your pussy is clenching at the tip of his cock and slamming yourself into his hips, and everytime time you do this spencer makes the prettiest noises, coughing up the moans struggling to come out of his mouth and tear tracks staining his cheeks, begging to cum.

“please, please yn don’t do that,” you do it again. “i…i—pull off, i’m gonna cum i’m not gonna last!” he cries, cock pulsing inside you and you know he’s not lying. you can read spencer’s body in the dark or light like it’s your own and you can feel your orgasm steadfastly approaching too, the heat building gradually at the pit of your stomach.

you start going faster, dropping yourself down to his cock and bottoming out at every thrust, his cock finding the tip of your spot every time. “yn,” spencer repeats. “gonna cum, stop please i—hnnnggg—“

“cum in me, sweet boy,” you press a kiss on his jaw, locking your fingers on his curls to pull his head back by his hair, making him look at you in the eye. spencer arguably looks the prettiest when he cums, and you never miss the show.

“i…what?” debaunched and fucked-dumb, it takes a second for spencer to understand what you mean. “you sure?”

“shut the hell up spence,” you groan, bringing him closer, chests flat against each other. you keep going at your thrusts, slipping a hand to rub at your soaked, swollen clit as spencer’s moans get higher and higher until his entire body is trembling, his eyes squeezed shut. “fucking—cum in me, honey.”

you know the exact moment when he cums because you did too, his face scrunching up in what almost looks like pain as you start to feel something warm bleed inside you and it feels like fucking heaven. your walls spasm around his cock, milking him as you orgasm, squeezing your intertwined fingers for dear life.

when you’ve both gained back your breaths, spencer lightly stroking the skin of your stomach where he can press and feel himself beneath of and you pressing more hickies on his chest and neck, you speak. “was that as good as your dream?”

your voice comes out more distorted than you thought, raspy and your throat is slightly sore. spencer laughs quietly.

“a hundred times better,” he’s quick to respond, earnest. “no brainer.” when you pull off of him and collapses by his side, he leaks out of you, wetting and trailing down your inner thighs.

spencer slides a hand there and slowly starts to finger his cum back into you lazily and you open up your legs for him, loose and wet from the orgasm. “you’re so full of me,” he says, sounding pleased with himself. his fingers scissors you open wider, patiently fucking you with them. you hold his other hand as spencer kisses you. “mine. all mine.” he presses down on your clit and you shake, your second orgasm hitting you like a soft wave. he keeps the pressure there despite you trying to close your legs, shivering all over, nipples hard and stomach rising. “all mine.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could I request Jason Todd with an s/o who enjoys making art of him? Sketches, paintings, etc.

Jason never saw himself as ever being a muse for someone else’s art, their reason to immeditly rush to their sketch pads or canvas and let the ideas flow out and take form however that maybe.

It was a reality he had came to accept until you came along and happily challenged this view he had on himself, and without fail you’ve proven him wrong again and again on multiple occasions.

Finally he had became a muse to somebody and he couldn’t help but be touched and feel extremely loved and appreciated whenever you shown him a simple sketch of him doing something mundane, whether that be making dinner for you both or reading a book, you just had a way of showing him how you see him through your art.

‘It’s a simple sketch I made this morning, nothing fancy.’ You’d shrug as Jason looked over your drawings of him and smiled.

‘If this is what you call a simple sketch then I’m all out of luck in ever attempting to take up drawing, this is amazing sweetheart!’ He’d say as he peppered your face with sweet, thankful kisses before moving away to look at the drawing once more, taking note on how much attention to detail there was in what you claimed was a simple sketch.

You drew him with such love for everything that made him in his entirety. You took extra care in drawing his every scar that littered his body, big and small. From the largest scar running from his collarbones and down his entire upper body, to the various scars scattered on his neck, forearms, hands and back.

You didn’t try to hide his impurities and instead actively chose to emphasise them in a way that he never thought existed. You didn’t try to make him look palatable nor tried to draw/paint him in anyway that wasn’t true to his character and he loved it. He loved the fact that you saw him for who he was and found him worth spending hours upon hours of drawing for.

‘I’m sure you’ll pick it up jay bird, besides I like drawling you.’ You admit.

‘Why?’ He asks softly.

‘What?’

‘Why do you like drawing me? What is it about me that worth immortalising on a canvas or in the pages of a sketchbook?’ Jason says as he looks at other sketches/paintings you’ve done of him in your spare time and felt his heart grow bigger with each and every one he came across.

You even sketched him in that stupid bunny onesie that Dick got him after loosing a bet, much to his dismay and the rest of his family’s amusement. Once upon a time he would’ve been ashamed at that his most embarrassing moment had been sketched out onto paper, but now he just shrugs and laughs it off, finally finding it funny as everyone else did at the time.

‘Because everything about you is worth immortalising, whether it be as a sketch or as a painting, you -Jason Todd- are worth remembering well into the future.’ You tell him as you took the sketchbook out of his grasp and settled it aside to hold his face in your hands, smiling upon seeing him melt deeper into your touch. ‘I didn’t feel like portraying you in any way that wasn’t true to who you are, at least in my eyes.’ You add.

‘And what do I look like in your eyes?’ Jason speaks barely above a whisper as he looks at you with storm grey eyes, a stark difference to the bright cobalt blue of his youth.

‘Perfectly imperfect.’ You kiss his forehead. ‘A Human with a heart of pure gold despite everything you’ve been through.’ You press another kiss to his nose. ‘A true protector of Gotham who bares the scars to prove it every night.’ You finished praising him by place a soft kiss to his plush, slightly chapped lips and pressing your forehead against his. ‘You’re Jason Todd. My muse.’

[yeagerfate]

big spoon or little spoon?

characters: miles morales (earth-1610), miguel o’hara, hobie brown, gwen stacy, pavitr prabhakar

warnings: none lol

notes: i didn’t proofread this because i’m exhausted from a bunch of irl stuff, so i’ll come check this out later and see if i need to fix anything. don’t really like how this went at all but i need something to post so oh well <3 might delete this later kinda depends. also i got my first writing request which i am very excited about hehe

Honestly, it all really depends on Miles’ mood. If he’s had a good day, then he’ll definitely be spooning you. However, if something went wrong, he will be seeking your comfort and attention. One of your most memorable moments with Miles’ was spooning him for the first time. He’d completely flunked an exam because he was out on a really dangerous mission the night before. In shambles, Miles had told you that he hadn’t slept at all and fell asleep during the test. He was really nervous to tell his parents about it because he didn’t know what his excuse would be. The last thing he wanted was for them to think he was out at some party, or just being irresponsible. He slept like a baby after you consoled him, his head resting on your chest as you ran your hand up and down his back with the other holding his head. Although it was a bittersweet moment, you enjoyed it, and the way Miles had drooled in his sleep had you trying not to wake him up from your sweet giggling.

Miguel’s in denial, but he’s a little spoon. The feeling of your hands running through his wavy hair at the end of a stressful day at work is something he’s grown addicted to. He’s a bit ashamed of it, as he thinks he should be the one holding you, but you quickly snap him out of it. Miguel finds solace in your arms, and for a couple hours it’s nice to forget about all of the emotional turmoil from work. Though, if you ever ask for it, Miguel will absolutely hold you. Sometimes, it’s nice to feel your head resting on his muscular chest and your warmth on him. In the mornings, it’s especially hard for Miguel to get up. Your arms are just so comfy and snug, and he feels like he’s at home when he’s with you. Lyla makes fun of him for it, calling him a “simp” (he doesn’t know what it means), but he doesn’t care. The way your face lights up when you feel his toned arms wrapped tightly around your face is something he’d never want to give up.

Hobie is a big spoon. He’s not big into snuggling, as he likes his personal space, but once you get into it, you get into it. (He is very affectionate with the people he cares about, though!) He’s found that the most comfortable position would be with your back against his chest and his arm wrapped around your stomach, his face hidden in your neck sweetly. It can get a little irritating, since Hobie is a big snorer. He also has a warmer body temperature, so in the summer, you’ll have to resolve to holding each other’s hands. It’s both endearing and frustrating, but it’s for Hobie, and that makes it worth it. During cuddling, the bonnet he wears tickles your neck. It’s hard to hold in the automatic laugh you have from it because he’s trying to sleep. Cuddling with Hobie is messy, fun, and enjoyable. It’s just so… Hobie.

Gwen, despite her average height, is a big spoon. She likes the feeling of being able to just hold and protect you. Gwen has lost so much, and so she feels she has to make sure you’re safe at all times. One of the way she does this is by holding you close to her her neck, your head resting on her shoulder as she runs her hands down your back. It doesn’t matter how tall you are. Even if you’re a foot taller than her, you’ll still be held by her. However, Gwen occasionally has nightmares, and so when she wakes up she’d like to be embraced by you. When she has her head pressed against you chest, and she can hear the sound of your heartbeat, it really makes her feel better. It reassures her panicking brain that you’re alive, you’re here, and you’re fine. It’s a soothing feeling, one that’s hard to describe. All she knows is that she really treasures it.

Pavitr is very enthusiastic about all types of physical affection, and that includes cuddling. He is a big spoon, though he doesn’t mind trading places at all. While you’re cuddling, he loves to tell you about how his day went. If you know that he’s spider-man, he’ll tell you all about the adventures he went on with his friends. Sometimes, he’ll even rant about Miguel, which is very amusing. However, if you don’t know that he’s spider-man, Pavitr will take a much different approach. Instead, he’ll ask you to tell him about your day. He asks you if you saw anything you liked at the stores nearby, or if you tried any new food. He likes to take note of these revelations because they make for great gifts. Pavitr is a very talkative cuddler, but on tiring days, he’ll be out like a light after 5 minutes. It all depends on how his day went.

[verstappen-cult]

LESTAPPEN ★ MASTERLIST

╰► CONTENT:

[ BACK TO MAIN MASTERLIST ]

here you’ll find the links to all my max verstappen x fem!reader x charles leclerc works! excluding the ones that are in charles and max’s individual masterlists. you can find drabbles, one-shots and series. masterlist constantly being updated.

01. BLURBS & DRABBLES

TAKING CARE OF YOU AFTER A NIGHT OUT

“i like to know i make girls jealous.” you say without an ounce of regret, looking between your boyfriends. why would you feel ashamed, right? “and i like to know i’m the only one to have you both.”

CHARLES GETS THE FLU

charles gets the flu gets all dramatic about it so max and the both have to take care of him and it's just pure fluff and chaos.

ADORABLE MEET CUTE

meet cute between lestappen and reader at a library.

NOT THE IDEAL BIRTHDAY | PART TWO

max totally blanks on your birthday plans and it’s not pretty.

SKINCARE ROUTINE

the boys want to help you with your skincare routine.

GIVING MAX’S LIP FRECKLE A LITTLE BIT OF LOVE

“You have a freckle on your lip.” You say, gaze glued to that little thing that screams at you to kiss it, and lick it, and show it some love.

YOUR BOYS BEING JEALOUS OF OLLIE

just asking the boys to take care of ollie on f1 debut. they can’t help but feel a little jealous over an eighteen year old boy.

TAKING CARE OF YOU DURING A NIGHT OUT

You lean against the car, pouting for what feels like the hundredth time in the night. “Can we go to McDonald’s?”

COZY MORNINGS

Waking up in your boyfriends’ arms is your favorite thing in the world. Even if most of the time you’re being crushed between them and feeling too warm to the point of sweating.

HAVING A SORE THROAT

the boys take care of you and act as your voice.

TAKING CARE OF YOU AFTER SURGERY

you had surgery recently and your boys are a little too intense when it comes to taking care of you.

KNIGHTS IN SHINNING ARMOR

after your mother says some hurtful things to you, your boys come to your rescue.

FLOWERS IN HER HAIR

what is like being in a relationship with max and charles while being a florist.

ATTENDING A WEDDING

just yours, max and charles thoughts on marriage and your future together.

JEALOUS BOYS

the boys reacting to a stranger hitting on you.

POST BREAK-UP

bumping into max and charles at a club after you broke up with them.

MEETING JIMMY AND SASSY

you and charles just wanted them to like you, if you cheated to make that happen, well, it’s not your fault.

WRITING A SONG

you usually wake up in the middle of the night to write. little do you know that charles and max like to lie away listening to you and your process.

GLASSES

max and charles see you wearing glasses for the first time.

NOT USED TO BEING TAKEN CARE OF

max and charles try to make you understand that you’re not a burden, and they love taking care of you.

DODGING THEIR KISSES

THE BOYS COMFORTING YOU

your friends are the worst and that makes you sad. but luckily for you, the boys stand up for you and comfort you.

FUNNY PICTURES

taking funny pictures of charles while he’s sleeping.

TELLING THE BOYS THAT YOU’RE PREGNANT

EXAMS SEASON

02. ONE-SHOTS

CHASING HEARTS

you’ve been friends with max and charles for quite a while now, but as much as you’ve tried you just can’t keep denying your true feelings anymore. so, what happens when they came knocking on your door demanding an explanation?

IN A WORLD OF BOYS, THEY’RE GENTLEMEN (smau)

people always like to jump into conclusions and you are the internet’s newest victim, the ‘slut playing with two boys’. little do they know, there’s more to the story.

WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS

It's the day after the race in Las Vegas and Max and Charles wake up with a huge headache, two rings in their fingers and no idea of what happened the night before.

03. MOODBOARDS

YOUR CAMERA ROLL IF MAX AND CHARLES WERE YOUR BOYFRIENDS

dancing in the dimly lit kitchen. special album called ‘my boys’ in your phone filled with photos of your boyfriends. supporting them every weekend even if you’re not at the paddock…

04. SERIES

LOADING. . .

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[sapphicantics]

Nightfalls Embrace

Pairing: Regina George x fem!reader

Summary: Regina’s insistence for you to stay the night forces you to tell her about a secret you’ve been hiding.

Word count: 1.4K

— — — —

Regina George is manipulative.

She does whatever she has to in order to get what she wants and she has no qualms about it.

Right now, she wants you to stay the night.

It’s a Friday night so she knows you have nothing to do tomorrow, not to mention it’s like two in the morning so it’s actually a Saturday, and your parents are away on top of that. It’s a perfect situation, if only you weren’t so stubborn.

“Regina, I gotta get home. It’s late.”

“Exactly. It’s late and you’ve been drinking. You’ll be safer here than if you try and drive home.”

You shake your head, a tiny smile rising on your face at her concern. “I’ll be fine, babe. I only had one drink, and I didn’t even finish it.”

It’s absolutely ridiculous how stubborn you’re being about this. This is your safety she’s talking about, nothing else, and she’s not gonna let you risk your life driving home no matter how few drinks you had.

If that means a little manipulation is in order then so be it.

Regina wraps her arms around your neck, her nails lightly stroking along your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. Your hands rest on her hips and she gives you that dazzling smile that never fails to make butterflies appear in your stomach before she leans in and presses her lips against yours.

Your eyes flutter closed and a soft sigh of content escapes your lips around the kiss. Regina flicks her tongue across your bottom lip asking for entrance and you grant it to her immediately, a moan slipping from your lips as her tongue slides against yours. She pulls you closer to her, your bodies flush against each others.

Is it wrong for her to be manipulating you like this? Yes, a hundred percent, but it’s for a good reason so it all balances out.

She pulls away from your lips and you take in desperate lungfuls of air while she presses kisses to your cheek. “Will you please stay the night with me, my love?” She whispers, her warm breath caressing your skin. “It would make me so, so, happy if you did. You can hold me and tell me I’m pretty, and in the morning I can order us breakfast from your favorite place.”

This is so unfair. Regina knows what her kisses do to you, knows that you’re practically weak against them and will give in to her wishes if she kisses you long enough before asking. Combine that with the pouty voice that only you get to hear and you’re practically putty in her hands.

This time is no different.

With your head fuzzy from kisses, you don’t realize the words of agreement that slip from your mouth until it’s too late, and by the time you do you’re sitting on the edge of Regina’s bed dressed in a spare set of her clothes while she rummages around in the bathroom preparing for the night.

You jump at a touch on your chin and look up to see Regina staring down at you. You try to give her a reassuring smile, but you’re sure it comes out as more of a grimace and Regina sighs in response, her eyes softening as she speaks. “You don’t actually have to stay if you don’t want to. I can have my mom drive you home and I can bring your car later.”

You shake your head. “No, no, it’s not that I don’t want to stay. I just…” you trail off, wiping your hands down your face roughly. “God, this is so stupid, it’s embarrassing.”

There’s a distinct reason you wanted to get home. It has nothing to do with want because the truth is you’ve wanted to spend the night with Regina before, but embarrassment is holding you back. You’ve got a secret and it’s one you’re deeply ashamed of because it’s so stupid and shouldn’t even be an issue.

No one else has this problem, no normal person has this problem. Regina doesn’t have this problem. Why do you? Why can’t you be like everyone else?

Your vision’s starting to blur, you can feel the tears building in the corner of your eyes, but you refuse to cry over this, over something so childish, especially in front of your girlfriend.

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to force back your tears, but a soft call of your name has the dam cracking open. The tears escape before you can stop them and Regina cradles you in her arms, your hands clutching her tight to you for the last time because there’s no way she’ll want to stay with you once she finds out how much of a loser you are. You sniffle and release a shaky breath, choking out the words you were planning to take to the grave. “I’m scared of the dark, Regina. I can’t sleep without a nightlight.”

Regina shifts above you and you tense, bracing yourself for her mockery and the inevitable breakup to follow. You know this is going to be in the Burn Book, you can already see it. There’s no reason for you not to be now since you’re not gonna be dating the Queen B anymore. “Babygirl,” she whispers.

“I’m sorry for being such a loser,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, mouth moving faster than your brain can comprehend. The words are escaping as they come to your head long before you can take the time to process them. “I know you don’t want to date me anymore now and that’s okay, I can live with that. I’ll probably never move on, but you can go date someone normal, someone who’s not a baby that-,”

Warm hands on your cheeks tilt your head up and soft lips collide with yours in a gentle kiss. It’s quick and sweet and you don’t really get a chance to reciprocate, but it does its job of distracting you and quieting your brain, giving her a chance to speak. “Breathe, baby, you’re spiraling.” She reaches up, wiping away your tears with the pad of her thumb and slowly, your breathing begins to steady. “There you go, love. Just like that. Now, I need you to listen to me, okay?”

You nod and blink your eyes open to meet hers.

“I love you and you being afraid of the dark is not going to change that. Nyctophobia is a very real fear and your age does not invalidate your feelings like you think it does. Everyone is scared of something, some just hide it better, but that doesn’t make you any less normal.”

“Do you have any fears?”

Your voice is barely above a whisper and for a few moments there’s no answer until finally, Regina speaks up, her voice level matching yours. “Being forgotten.”

You furrow your brows, looking at Regina in confusion. She has athazagoraphobia? Of all the possible fears she could’ve said, you never would’ve expected her to have a social fear, but when you think about it, it makes sense. Everyone bows down to her and follows everything she does so you think it’s natural she’d be nervous about such a thing. Not to mention, her father’s a dick who left her and her mother and sister to have a new family and never spoke to them again like they never even mattered to him; like she never even mattered to him.

Asshole.

You take Regina’s hand in yours and bring it to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her skin. “I’d never forget you, Regina.”

Regina giggles, wiping away the single tear that managed to escape. “I know, Princess, thank you. Now, why don’t you go wash those dried tears away, hm?”

You do so, the cool water against your heated skin making you sigh in relief, and when you emerge from the bathroom, your lips part in shock at the golden galaxy strewn across the ceiling from the night light projector sitting atop Regina’s dresser. A smile spreads across your face at the sight and you can’t help the happy tears that appear in the corner of your eyes as you gaze up in awe, a small laugh escaping because you know she took this from Kylie’s room so you could be comfortable.

Regina’s waiting for you in bed and you crawl in next to her, falling into her waiting arms. You lay your head on her chest, her heart beating soothingly in your ears while her fingers run lightly up and down your side, pulling a gentle sigh from you as your eyes begin to flutter. “Thank you for this, Regina,” you murmur. “I love you.”

Regina presses a kiss to your temple and the last thing you hear before sleep claims you is her soft, “I love you too, Princess.”

[ilovejoostklein]

HAIII, sorry if this is confusing, but can i request joost with a reader who is like... a TERRIBLE social reject but also makes music... they dread doing concerts, releasing full albums, and interviews but they still do it for their career?...

hii, yes ofc <3

-

Bed Peace

You’re an anxious singer and your boyfriend Joost comforts you the morning of one of your shows

sfw: fluff, light angst

-

You lay tangled in the bed of your hotel room with Joost. You grimaced at the empty bottles and shot glasses littering the coffee table, the headache from your hangover squeezing your head and pinching the back of your eyes making you more miserable than you felt last night. Your body was destroyed with fatigue and from the two-hour concert you’d had last night, ears still aching from the sounds of the music and screaming fans. You dreaded the fact of knowing what the day held in store for you today. 

It was only moments like these that brought you true happiness, your boyfriend sleeping peacefully behind you with his strong arms around your waist. He was always so calm. He was like a pond, still and beautiful, nothing ever disrupting his mood that always seemed to be cheerful, and if he wasn’t it was still always so contained and rational. You didn’t know what to compare yourself to, a riptide, a never-ending storm that could only be lulled into security with substances and the presence of your sweet boyfriend who put up with your worries. 

Joost woke up when he felt your heartbeat against his hands. It was certainly a strange way to wake up, and incredibly alarming to see that you were already so distraught first thing in the morning. It was crushing to see you this way, he tried whatever he could and still, he felt like a failure. Since you’d been together you’d turned him into a better person, he felt the difference every day when life had slowed down and everything felt and appeared more beautiful. He wished that he could do that for you, but he was beginning to realize that the issue was far bigger than you both. 

“You’re always up before me.” His voice was still groggy with sleep, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. “We overdid it last night, hm?”

You didn’t respond, staring at the empty bottles under the exposing morning night you couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed. You felt Joost kiss your cheek, putting his fingers underneath your chin so that you’d face him. 

“I think you have to get up soon.” He dreaded saying it as much as you did. “Big day today.”

You groaned, rolling over so that you’d be able to bury your face into his chest. You breathed him in, he still smelled faintly of the body wash he always traveled with which somehow calmed your nerves. 

“I wish I could cancel the stupid fucking interview.” Your profanity made him chuckle, bringing you closer into his arms. “Do you think I can?”

“For the second time?” Joost asked, his voice gently suggesting you to be more rational. “It’s short, and you’ll do a good job like always.”

Even if you were media trained to the point you felt like a circus animal, you abhorred nothing more than doing pointless interviews and touring. You tried to avoid falling into more dangerous substances, facing it all head-on, and by the end, you were dizzy and overcome with anxiety. You’d always been so anti-social, it was a miracle that you had someone like Joost who was effortlessly charming and sociable. You wished that you could take some of it for yourself. 

“I hate it.” You mumbled, glancing at the clock on the wall realizing that you didn’t have too much time. 

“I know, baby.” He said, kissing you. “But you love to sing, and I love it too, so it’ll be worth it.”

“It’s easy for you.” You retorted. “You know I just want to sing and do nothing else.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” You frowned hearing his tone shift into something more serious, forcing him to be the voice of reason. “Your career isn’t like mine.”

He was right. Your career was much more serious than his. It wasn’t that Joost was careless, but he could be himself and have fun with his career while you couldn’t. You wished it was the same way for you, even knowing you couldn’t be half as charming if you tried.

You wanted to stay with Joost in bed all day. You held him closer, expecting him to pressure you to get up again, but you felt him give into you when he pulled you atop his chest. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you two stayed embracing each other in silence for a while. 

You hoped that Joost would fall asleep, giving you an excuse to do the same and blame him when you’d inevitably wake up and realize you’d missed the interview. You propped yourself up only to make direct eye contact. Your face flushed with anxiety, forcing yourself to smile to try to dull the intensity you felt. 

“How badly do you not want to go?” Joost suddenly asked the blush on your cheeks now feeling unbearable. 

You stifled the tears forming in your eyes. Joost cared about you so much, no matter how stubborn and self-deprecating you could be he was always so gentle. You felt his hands cup your face, his thumb smoothing down on your cheek tenderly. 

“I don’t want to.” You mumbled. “I just want to stay here with you, before my show.”

“Ok then, liefde.” He whispered, bringing your head forward to kiss your nose. “Oh no.” He said in a concerned tone.

“What is it?” You asked, feeling your heart rate pick up. Your anxiety was always set off so easily. “Joost.” You pressed.

“You feel really warm.” You realized he was being sarcastic, feeling a smile form on your face. “I think I have to call your manager m’en meisje is getting sick.”

You watched in relief as he grabbed his phone from your shared nightstand and sent a text to your manager, turning his phone to show their quick response. You could feel their annoyance through the message, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. The relief felt almost invigorating, your anxieties and worries melting away all at once knowing that you could spend the rest of the afternoon in bed with your boyfriend. 

“I love you, Joost.” You said sweetly, kissing him over and over again on his cheek. “You’re the best, I’m serious.”

“I’m just selfish.” He chuckled, kissing you back, “I want to keep you with me all the time.”

“I wish.” You said a bit solemnly, knowing that the time would quickly pass as it always did when you were happy. “I’m glad you’ll be at my show at least.”

“I’m your biggest fan.” He pinched your cheek lovingly. 

You settled into your boyfriend’s arms, the safety and unconditional love soothing your heart completely. You wished that you could love your career, not just the act of singing. You wished you could grow to love the process of waking up before the sun to write and record songs for hours every day until your entire body ached with boredom. You didn’t know what you would do without Joost, he was your person in all of this. 

“I really love you, Joost.” You mumbled, feeling both of you slowly getting taken away by sleep again. “I’m so lucky.”

“I love you more.” You could hear him getting more tired, it was cute. “And I’m luckier.”

“You’re falling asleep again?” You whispered, trying to keep the calmness of the room. 

“Mhm.” He hummed, his eyes still shut. “You should rest too, you’re sick remember?”

-

ya’ll i hope i’m using these dutch words right… hope u enjoyed

[bucks-babe]

hi!! i’ve had this concept in my head for a while and i love your writing style so i thought you would be perfect to ask. so reader is new to the compound, like helping out in the lab but not necessarily on the team, and because of that when she tries forming relationships with people on the team she’s kind of pushed to the side. bucky sees this and feels for her since he was kind of treated the same when he was new, so he starts becoming friends with her and building a relationship with her. then he starts involving her in things the team does like dinners or movie nights. and when they’re around each other the team can obviously see that they like each other as more than friends. you can develop it more from there but that’s kind of the base line for my idea!!

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Being new to the compound isn’t easy, luckily you have a supersoldier on your side

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, reader wears glasses (no other description of reader though), Bucky thinks reader is cute, Tony is kind of a huge dick, vague implications of smut but no smut (blink and you’ll miss it), I suck at endings, they are in love, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.780k

“Hey, uh, Glasses, I need you to run these samples for me.” You look up and see Tony walking into the lab, straight to your table. You look around, not sure if he was talking to you, but you’re alone in the lab, given that it was almost midnight, but you had to finish the reports from the samples that Steve dropped off in the morning.

You were swamped in work, not even taking a lunch break, desperate to finish everything so that you could go back to your room in the compound and take a shower. It felt like you’ve been stuck in the lab for days on end. The Avengers having back to back missions and you being the only lab tech without a family to go home to, you were stuck working insane hours.

“Mr. Stark, can these wait until the morning? I'm still working on the reports from Captain Rogers.” Tony heaves a great sigh, clearly exasperated by your reluctance to do his work, knowing damn well he can run these samples a lot quicker with the help of F.R.I.D.A.Y. but he just doesn’t want to. Might as well make the overworked lab tech do it.

“The old man can wait until tomorrow for his report, just get mine done. If he has a problem, he can take it up with me. Goodnight, Penny.” And just like that, he walks off. You know for sure that he didn’t hear you correct him when he got your name wrong. Honestly, where did he even get Penny from? You’re so stressed you feel like you could cry, which pisses you off more. It made you feel weak when you would cry when you were frustrated but you couldn’t help it.

It's been like this since you got the job at the compound. At first you thought that this would be an amazing opportunity, getting to work side by side with the Avengers. In reality, you stay cooped up in the lab most of the day, getting overworked, and only see the Avengers when they stop by to give you more work. 

Of course, you understand that being a superhero is hard work, but a little courtesy goes a long way. It would be a nice change of pace if someone acknowledged your efforts. You push Steve’s reports to the side and start working on Tony’s samples, knowing that this is going to take all night, but you don’t really have a choice. It needs to be done and you’re the only one in the lab.

The sound of the door opening jolts you awake, a piece of paper stuck to your face with drool. “Hey, do you have those reports for me?” You groan and look at Steve. The clock on the wall reads 6:03 AM, ever the early riser, Steve is. You must have fallen asleep sometime last night trying to finish the work Tony gave you, which is just as incomplete as Steve’s reports.

“Sorry, Captain Rogers, Mr. Stark gave me an urgent request that needed priority.” You keep your head down, ashamed to look at him. 

“I gave you those samples in the morning. How are the reports not done?” He has his hands on his hips with the disappointed father's look on his face, making you feel even worse. You really are trying your best, but you’re burnt out and can't do everything at once.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have them done by early afternoon. I can drop them off if you’d like?” God, you feel so stupid! Steve just waves you off with a “I’ll come back after lunch for them” and leaves you to your own thoughts.

You get Steve’s reports done before lunch and continue to work on finishing Tony’s when the lab doors open again. Without looking up you slide Steve’s reports to him. “They’re done Captain Rogers.” 

“It’s not Steve.” You push your glasses up on your nose and see Bucky standing before your table, quite awkwardly as well, shuffling on his feet with his right hand in his pocket, left hanging down limply at his side.

“Sergeant Barnes, how can I help you?” You’ve always had a crush on Bucky, but he was the only Avenger who hasn’t come into your lab - ever. Matter of fact, he avoids the lab like the plague, which is understandable given that he was experimented on for years. 

“It’s my arm, I can’t move it.” After a few seconds of silence he adds on, “The metal one. Usually, I can recalibrate it myself but I think it has something to do with the plates.” He looks so vulnerable; Bucky’s not used to asking for help, rather always helping someone else.

“I can take a look at it if you want.” You assume that’s why he came down to the lab, not just to chit chat with you. He nods and you lead him to a lab chair. “Can you take your shirt off for me?” Bucky’s eyebrows hit his hairline and his jaw drops. “I need to see your arm, Sergeant.” Now both of you are blushing.

It takes him a little while but he gets his shirt off and stares at the floor, embarrassed of the scars surrounding his arm. “Can I touch your arm, Sergeant?” Bucky eyes widen; he’s not used to someone asking permission to touch his arm. If he doesn’t wear his gloves in public, people will stare and point, some even trying to touch his hand to get a better look at the silver arm. Bucky hates it: the arm, the stares, the scars, everything.

He mumbles a confirmation and watches you work on his arm. He thinks you’re cute, with glasses that make your eyes look slightly magnified and how you stick your tongue out when you concentrate. You’ve always hated your glasses, thinking that they make you look bug eyed, but Bucky thinks that it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. There are bags under your eyes, which makes Bucky frown. Stark is overworking you.

After a few minutes you look up and see Bucky staring at you and you both quickly look away. “One of the plates near your shoulder came loose and disrupted the signal to the rest of the arm. That’s why you couldn’t move it. It’s fixed now and you should be good to go, Sergeant.”

 Before Bucky could say anything, Tony enters. “Penn, those reports done yet or are you too busy with Terminator over there?” You ignore Bucky’s confused who’s Penn? and give Tony the finished half of his reports, hoping against hope that he won’t tear you a new one in front of Bucky.

“Uh, Glasses, where is the other half?” 

“I didn’t get to them all last night and then Captain Rogers needed his reports this morning. I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.” Not only did you not finish Tony’s reports on time, but you were also late with Steve’s, on top of getting minimal sleep and not eating. The humiliation is seeping through your pores. You’re letting your idols down in real time, seeing their disappointment right in front of you.

“I told you to prioritize my samples, not Rogers.” Bucky is still in his chair, watching, ready to jump to your defense. He doesn’t like the way Tony is talking to you. Little do you know, but Bucky sometimes comes down to the lab to watch you work, never entering, God no. He’d look like a creep. But the sweet lab tech caught his attention the moment you arrived.

“I know, but I fell behind and Captain Rogers said-”

“I don’t care what Rogers said. I told you-” 

“Back off Stark, if you want them done, do it yourself.” Bucky was pissed; you are too sweet for your own good, letting people boss you around and bending over backwards for them. Not when Bucky is around.

Before Tony can continue to argue with Bucky, F.R.I.D.A.Y. calls him away for a meeting, leaving you and Bucky in the lab alone. “Sergeant Barnes, you didn’t have to do that. Those reports should have been done anyway; it was my fault.” How pathetic is it to have someone you hardly know see your faults.

“He shouldn’t be talking to you like that, doll. You’re only one person and you're doing your best.” He’s a lot closer to you now and you can smell his cologne, making your head feel all fuzzy. “Thank you for helping me with my arm, too.”

“Thank you for letting me, Sergeant, I know that was difficult for you.” You’re looking up at him through your thick frames, eyes larger than they actually are, bags under your eyes, but Bucky thinks you’ve never been prettier. Or maybe it’s because he’s never seen you up close, but you are the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen, 40’s or not.

“Call me Bucky.”

After that, Bucky was in the lab almost everyday. For a while he would claim to have some strange ailment until you told him that he didn’t have to feign injury to visit, which made him blush. He would spend his lunch in the lab, making sure that you were eating, too. Bucky is a very observant man, and on his trips to the lab, before he first talked to you, he would see how overworked you were and how you barely ate. 

He made it his mission to keep you well fed and get you out of the lab at a decent hour, giving a death glare to agents trying to drop off samples after a certain hour. 

Outside of the lab, Bucky was your only friend at the compound; although, he’s never hand fed Steve in bed while watching old movies. Bucky felt comfortable around you, even more so than with Steve. Bucky and you had a special bond - he would confide in you when you would both be awake at the unholy hours of night and you would do the same. He trusted you not to tell anyone else and, to him, it was easier to talk to you than Steve.

Steve had a tendency to look at Bucky as if he was a sick puppy, and Bucky hated that, he hated the pity. He didn’t want to be treated like precious glass, and you allowed him to be vulnerable without making him feel like he was falling apart.

Some nights you both would fall asleep in bed together and wake up entangled, those nights were Bucky’s favorites. You were so soft and even though you were so much smaller than him, you made him feel safe and protected. His sweet doll in his bed, keeping the nightmares away. 

He loved the way you would squint and search for your glasses on the stand next to the bed, whining when you accidentally knocked them to the floor, or stabbed yourself in the eye trying to put them on. 

The entire dynamic of your friendship changed one night. Bucky doesn’t know who moved first, but the two of you kissed, and Bucky can’t remember kisses ever being so good. The two of you only kissed that night, nothing further, but it was the best night that either of you had in a long while. From that day on, he was your old man and you were his old lady.

You both decided to keep your relationship a secret for the time being. You didn’t want the other lab techs to think you were getting special treatment and Bucky didn’t want to deal with the teasing from Sam or the questions from Steve. But Bucky loathed when he would be forced by Steve to join movie nights, alone, without you. Steve wanted what was best for his friend so he would force Bucky to get out more; little did Steve know that Bucky had the best girl waiting for him to come over.

He could tell that you were let down whenever he had to participate in “team bonding.” You wanted to be valued by the team, yet you understood why they never invited you; you weren’t an Avenger, just a lowly lab tech. Nonetheless, it broke Bucky’s heart to see you so despondent, which is why he asked you to join the next movie night, team be damned.

“Come on, doll, it will be fun. I promise.” Bucky holds you close to his chest, laying down next to you under the covers. You roll over, naked chest to naked chest, body still shaking, and bury your face in his neck, breathing him in.

“I’m not even a part of the team, Jamie. What will all your teammates think, huh? The great Bucky Barnes and the weird lab tech: A perfect match. No, they won’t.” Bucky gently grabs both sides of your face, both metal and flesh warm from previous activities, and makes you look him in the eye. 

He’s a little blurry since you aren’t wearing your glasses. The lenses would smush against your face everytime he would kiss you with anything more than a chaste kiss, and Bucky Barnes is a passionate kisser in bed. At your slight squint, he pulled you closer to his face so you could see him clearly; blue eyes holding nothing but the utmost love and devotion.

“I don’t give a damn what the team thinks, you hear me? You are my doll and I want to show you off. My sweet little lab tech who’s too kind for her own good. Let them all know how perfect you are.” Your resolve is crumbling like it does every time he looks at you. It is an overwhelming feeling, being the light of someone’s life, being showered with so much love you feel like you can’t breathe, but each breath fills up your lungs with joy and hope.

Bucky nuzzles his nose against yours and you both know you’ll say yes. You’d follow him to the ends of the earth, just as he would for you. “Okay, Jamie, I will, for you.”

Movie night is a week later and you’re on Bucky’s lap where he sits on the recliner. It’s his unofficial seat whenever Steve forces him to these things, stuck in the corner of the room away from everyone else with no seat next to him. At first, no one notices you on Bucky’s lap, curled up into him with tangled limbs not able to tell where Bucky begins and you end. 

Steve is the first to notice, doing a double take at the extra bulk in Bucky’s seat, and just as Bucky is observant, so is Steve. Steve had a suspicion that there was something more to Bucky’s disappearances during lunch and the extra food he would take after dinner. Steve just smiles to himself and faces the movie once more, every so often glancing back at the two lovebirds in their own world.

Bucky has no clue what movie they are watching, his sole focus is on you. You had a long day in the lab, yet you held true to your word to join movie night with him, but being curled up in Bucky’s arms was your favorite place to be and before long you were sound asleep, holding onto his metal arm, using it as a pillow. As gently as he could, Bucky took off your glasses and put them atop his head, falling asleep himself before the movie was halfway over.

Sam was the second to notice, and let the rest of the team know as well. “OH. MY. GOD. Tony, where is my phone? I can’t believe this.” The rest of the team look at each other in confusion, following Sam’s line of sight, they see you wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, the both of you sound asleep. 

“Is that…Glasses?” Comes from Tony.

“She’s so cute!” Slips from Wanda.

“Who’s Glasses?” is followed by a slap from Nat with a hissed “Thor, shut up, they’re sleeping!”

“Tony, my phone! I need evidence.”

“Terminator’s getting laid?”

“We’re watching Indiana Jones, Stark.” 

“Thor, inside voice, we’ve talked about this.”

The teasing from the team is endless the next day, but Bucky doesn’t have it in him to care, he has his sweetheart by his side and they know better than to provoke Bucky. Coincidentally, Tony offers to take some of his samples back to test them himself; Bucky insists that he must have had a change of heart, you don’t believe it for one second, but Bucky will never admit to anything. After all, he has to take care of his sweet girl. 

[pixiesfz]

Would you do Katie hc’s?

We’ve got McCabe 🎵

Dating Katie McCabe is full of fun

Katie is the type of girlfriend to literally just jump on you when your laying down

“Ow fuck Katie!”

“Love me!”

That woman craves attention 24/7, at training she’s partnered with you or she’s warming up with you and if she’s behind you in a drill she’s making witty comments behind you hoping you’ll laugh.

You do.

Katie loves international camps where she verses you because you always are on eachother and you both play a physical game.

Interviewer: “How do you feel about versing y/l/n, it was such a physical game”

Katie: “Yeah no I loved it”

Katie fucking loves having sex with you, she thinks about it at least 10 times a day and she is not ashamed to say it.

It will be 8 in the morning and you wake up to her kissing your neck (you’ve given her permission to touch you in your sleep)

“You’re touchy today”

“Look at you”

If you post a photo of yourself in a bikini or just have any cleavage in a photo woso fans are just waiting for Katie’s comment or if it’s a story she’ll just reply with “come home right now” or she’ll see it and enter your shared room with a suggestive stare at you.

“Did you see this photo”

“I have no idea what you are talking about babe”

After an Arsenal loss the rest of the day turns into a self care day. Katie will run a bath burn your favourite candles and order in.

After an Arsenal win…..that’s a different story.

[juuuulez]

📋 | carmen berzatto nsfw alphabet.

don’t ask what possessed me today. it was definitely all the weed.

soo much nsfw under the cut….this is just paragraphs of porn.

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act):

whatever ur carmy kink headcanons are i think we all agree that he’s really sweet afterwards :( he might suddenly get nervous or anxious and overthink everything you’ve done (“are you sure you’re alright?” “i know, i know, baby ‘m just.. i wanna take care of you, yeah?”) and you’ll have to assure him it’s okay! you loved it, he was perfect, he didn’t hurt you. he just wants some reassurance and then he’ll be finding you some water, a snack, whatever you need! (“just crackers? ‘cus i’ve got this new recipe, it’s a soup, i can make it—“ “nobody wants soup after sex, carm.”)

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers):

carmy doesn’t like many things about himself, initially.. until you’re quick to vocalise exactly how amazing he is. immediately, carmy is enamoured with just what he can do with his hands. his palm covering the entirety of your neck when you kiss, or how his fingers looked splayed over your hip. and fuck, his fingers! they’re really thick, and carmen secretly gets off on the fact that your fingers are so much smaller, so even alone, you’ll never be able to finger yourself as good, never be able to reach those spots that carmy touched with ease.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it):

let’s be so honest carmen berzatto marking kink is so real. it starts out as a practicality, pulling out to spill over your thighs, sticky white liquid that clung to your curves, and carmy found himself growing more aroused the longer he stared at it. now, even if you’re on the pill, carmy will pull out for the sole purpose of pumping his cum wherever he can, a physical reminder of what’s his, because despite all his flaws, you belong to him.

however, assuming carmy can hold back cumming well enough for this is bold, so it usually ends in covering your already sticky cunt and lower stomach in it.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory):

he jerked off with your panties once. it was near the start of your relationship, and carmen was so busy with the re-brand, he barely got to see you. so, one of the rare days he was over, he’d done some laundry for the both of you. and found some pink lace panties. and kept them. and, those nights he’d come home late and exhausted and slightly miserable, unable to call you for you were at home fast asleep, carmen.. used them to jerk off! sue him! he felt so guilty about it (poor baby) and admitted to it after a couple months of dating. he seemed so ashamed that you couldn’t help but go easy on the punishment… tying him to the bed and getting him off by only grinding over his swollen cock, wearing those same pink lace panties.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing):

of course he doesn’t. not properly, at least. carmy’s never had girlfriends, and maybe had a hook-up or two at fancy chef events in New York or Paris or wherever. nothing that mattered, at least. so this time, he’s careful and attentive. asking questions like he’s studying for a test, watching every single movement, every reaction. you wouldn’t be surprised if he was taking notes.

F= Favorite position:

ooof carmen definitely wants to see your face. he likes holding it in his big palms, whispering sweet words over your lips and swallowing your moans (“c’mon sweetheart, you can do it.. just one more for me, huh? fuck— your cunt fuckin’ wants it yeah? that’s it..”). probably missionary mostly, maybe he fucks you from behind one early-morning, his forehead pressed to your neck while the sun seeps in through the blinds.

G= Goofy (how serious are they):

not exactly serious, but he definitely gets into the zone. for him, sex isn’t casual, and it’s a time that means a lot to him. he’s choosing to be vulnerable for someone, and in turn, feels special that he’s allowed to see you like this. carmen can loose himself in the moment, his mind going uncharacteristically blank, too focused on the pure sensation and emotion connected with it. despite this, carmy can always be found gently tapping your cheek, pushing through the haze to ask “you with me, baby? feel good?”, because his pleasure only comes when you’re still into it.

H= Hair (grooming habits):

carmen doesn’t particularly allocate time to grooming down there, it’s not really a priority, unless his partner explicitly made it clear to him that was of interest. however, i don’t think carmy has the thickest of hair, just dark little curls in all the normal places. idk guys just thinking about shirtless lip…..he’s a pretty smooth guy.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty):

definitely depends. i wanna say a mix of both? when you’re into it carmen is so lovely, making sure to express how much he loves you, how much you mean to him. but private time doesn’t come around very often, so it’s usually instigated with a needy carmen coming home, exhausted from a long shift, his hands gripping at your waist before the words come out. his actions aren’t demanding at all, still gentle, but hurried and desperate to get inside your cunt.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often):

carmy is so a shower jerk person. i know guys i just know. he doesn’t like making a mess anywhere else, because it’s just an inconvenience, and cleaning the sheets or another shirt is just another useless task he doesn’t have time for. it’s rare he begins with the intention of jerking off, either. the hot shower melts away a day of tension, and carmen finds himself finally relaxing, finally tuning into his body, only to realise how much he needs this.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual):

we’ve already established the marking kink… and now listen 😝 i am a sub carmy truther guys! i can’t help it he’s so baby i need him to cry for me ;( but carmy definitely likes being bossed around, being told what to do, when he gets to cum.. it’s a change from being in control of literally everything, which most of the time carmen feels all he does falls apart, so he enjoys not having to think (which usually means second-guess and reconsider and debate and obsess).

L= Location (where they like to get it on):

every single carmen office quickie fic is SO SO SO SO SO SEXY they always have me foaming and barking like a rabid animal….however i’m gonna have to say his or your bed! he likes the idea of you being comfortable..bonus points for you guys probably fucking more often on the couch, since needy carmen can’t wait long enough to split you open :(

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons):

there are a variety of ways to get carmen in the mood, but his #1 is a confident partner who takes what they want. imagine carmy obsessing over the new menu, spending endless hours in the living room, papers and recipes and notes scattered over the table. you’ve barely gotten any attention all night, not necessarily in a needy way, just that this was supposed to be your night off together. the solution is actually quite easy: climbing onto the table, obscuring carmen’s vision of his work. before a protest can leave his lips, brows furrowed in confusion and slight distress, your hands are firmly pressing down on his shoulders. “you’re gonna eat me out, yeah? like you promised?” and he is DOWN on his knees, mind fucking short-circuiting, because suddenly there is nothing he’d rather do.

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do):

carmen really doesn’t like seriously hurting you, so no intense spanking or choking. however i really love choking 🙄🙄 so i think he’d wrap his hand around your neck, his finger rubbing the hinge of your jaw, his warm palm a gentle assurance of the power he has without fully exercising it.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are):

pussy eating champ…carmen genuinely gets off on being able to make you feel good. his strong arms bracketing your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin, holding you to his mouth while his tongue fucks deep. carmy can’t help but rut against the mattress, hips hastily thrusting in tune to your moans, the swollen head of his dick rubbing against the sheets. “please, baby, please.. c’mon, just a little longer, please— i need it so fuckin’ bad.” he’ll cry into your cunt after your first orgasm, needing to eat your sopping pussy in order to cum.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed):

soft, grinding rolls of his hips against yours, holding your cunt against the base of his cock, letting your clit rub against his skin. carmen takes it slow, making sure to hit the spongy place right up inside you, the one that makes you cry and squirm.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard):

carmen prefers to take his time with it, but more often you find yourself hurriedly making love on the couch, bench, shower, maybe even his car. clothes scattered around the room, a bra on the chair, carmen’s boxers under the coffee table. he’ll take you wherever he can, whenever the time finally allows it, and he makes it deep and fast.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things):

anything you want, he’ll hear you out. carmen loves to learn, he wants to know everything that makes you tick, and will willingly absorb anything you have to teach. that’s not to say he isn’t nervous, as he finds himself always double-checking you’re still alright, asking if it still feels good.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts):

definitely a multiple rounds kinda guy. he can’t help it! the sight of you laying there, stripes of cum over your stomach and shiny slick on your thighs, carmen finds himself hard all over again. expect a round two, maybe three from him, and even then he’ll probably eat you out again.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers):

carmen doesn’t see the use for sex toys, since he’d much prefer to be the one providing you pleasure. definitely not fully opposed, though, he’ll fuck you long and slow with a vibrator on nights where he just wants to watch and study you.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves):

i 🩷 edging so carmen 🩷’s edging! carmy puts on this needy desperate front (“please, fuck, i need’a cum, ‘m not kidding.”) but there is NOTHING alike to carmy’s mind going completely blank after denying his third orgasm in a row, his cock swollen and throbbing with each pass of your hand, only for you to finally give him permission (“cum for me, carmy, i’ve got you.”)

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk):

think about the lowest, guttural moans you’ve ever heard. as carmen gets closer, they taper off into higher whines, soft whispers into your skin about how much he wants this.

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort):

now, carmen does not take disrespect in the kitchen, and clearly doesn’t tolerate people talking back. but you? there’s a certain fire in his stomach, when you glare at him over the pass, or don’t back up whenever he gets into your personal space. if you stand your ground, firm and sure about whatever you’re doing, carmen feels himself fostering a growing mixture of respect and arousal.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants):

i just KNOW carmen is thick…the stretch seems impossible every time, his cock filling up every inch inside your hot cunt, while carmen whispers that it’s going to be alright, that you can take it.

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level):

higher than carmen has time for. hence the jerking off in the shower, and fucking you on the couch. he’ll take anything that he can get, for he knows time isn’t on his side.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after):

carmy will ask you a hundred questions about how you’re feeling, if you need anything, what he can do, before finally settling in beside you. sometimes he’ll lay there for a few minutes, before dragging himself up, uttering some excuse about needing to revise the new menu. you’ll fuss, try and pull him back down, and he’ll fold almost instantly.

[mirangel]

selcouth.

pairing: bi han x afab!reader

genre: smut

cw: dubcon, degradation, praise, fingering, breeding kink, dumbification, overstimulation, no aftercare, use of pet (2) and slut (2), fingers in mouth, mating press -> doggy style, creampie, no pronouns used

word count: 2.1k

you messed up majorly, and the grandmaster gives you a second chance, just not as a member of the lin kuei anymore.

written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable

The Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei was infamous for his strict, domineering rule over his warrior clan. Even his younger brother, Kuai Liang was never the exception to his acerbity. However, like many others who serve the Grandmaster, you keep your head low, performing your duties and assignments as commanded by him. Today just wasn’t your day however, as you focused on the icicles beginning to form on the pristine wood under you. You could feel the glare boring down on the back of your head as you hang your head, ashamed and fearful for your life. You were already still recovering from previous injuries, just the thought of potentially worsening your wounds makes your head spin.

Your mind was in shambles, pleads and apologies spilling from your mouth like a torrent, but the increasing cold chill had you stammering. “Shut up.” Bi-Han spat, his arms crossed and his dark brown eyes narrowing. Even masked you could tell he disapproved of your actions. “You have no right to speak after your failure.” You felt your heart sink, but you kept your place on your knees anyways, fearful of what he’d do to you if you tried to defend yourself further. Bi-Han circled around your kneeling form, his footsteps pounding in your ears. “You’ve failed the Lin Kuei, failed to execute your duties. It’s laughable how you try to defend yourself like this.” You trembled from the sheer cold, finding solace in the comforts of your mind.

But his voice was soon closer, borderline whispering as cold air appeared in your peripheral view. “You’re unfit as a warrior of the Lin Kuei.” Bi-Han sneered, his lips forming into even more of a frown than he usually sported.

“Grandmaster I—” You fretted, but your head was suddenly shoved to the ground, leaving you disoriented as you realized how much your head hurt. “I have a better role for you.” You could hear the arrogance in his voice despite his almost permanent scowl present on his face, “You’d do better as my spouse. You’d have no need for this excessive… clumsiness, then.” Your eyes widened in terror, desperate to break free from his grasp. But Bi-Han proved too strong for you, his grip on the back of your head strengthened as he kicked out your knees enough to where your hips are raised, and your head still pressed to the ground.

“We can even start with training today,” Bi-Han commented, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I know how you train early in the morning and end late at night, it’ll be just like that.” The chill worsens, goosebumps forming on your skin. “Your very own personal regimen, aren’t you excited?” Truth be told, your heart skipped a beat at the mere anticipation of this so called “regimen”, but fear filled your veins more than excitement did, and you thrashed like a wild animal.

Bi-Han grunted, gripping your chin with the hand he used to hold your head down, whispering into your ear with an uncharacteristically sultry voice, “You’ll carry my children, I’ll make sure of that.” Your body trembles in excitement, a breathy “Grandmaster” escaping your lips in a needy fashion, and he can’t help but groan. “Good little pet.” He laughs condescendingly, beginning to strip off your uniform.

Bi-Han makes quick work of it, as expected for a man who practically lives in his uniform. He callously tosses the garments on the other end of his office leaving you completely bare, shivering to the cold chill in the air. “Don’t tell me you’re already shivering.” He scoffs, his intense gaze searing into your body. Bi-Han lowers his pants down to his knees, a large bulge prominent on his boxers. Your eyes widen, mouth becoming dry at the mere sight. But he cocks his head with a grin while crossing his arms, making his muscles that much larger.

Bi-Han moves behind you, caging your body with his own. His cold breath hitting the tip of your left ear as he gropes your body, malleable and soft under his calloused hand. His other hand wraps around your neck, adding just the slightest amount of pressure to make you aware of his presence. “You should be grateful I’m allowing you to have this second chance. I would’ve killed any other warrior for this… blunder.”

Thick fingers that once surrounded your neck prod at your hole, it’s undeniably cold, but there’s a sort of thrill that goes with the temperature play as well. “Wet already?” You feel his grin form despite his face pressed up against your neck. “Such a slut.” You stiffen up at his words, your body involuntarily shivering and you can’t help but let out a moan, and it was almost as if his eyebrow raised, “Oh?” Bi-Han sneered, thrusting his fingers into your pussy, struggling to accommodate two of his fingers alone.

“Look at you, how will you take my cock if you can’t even take my own fingers?” You failed to come up with a response, desperate to find something to grasp, something to hold while he brought you further into depravity. Your eyes rolled back as you bite down on your lower lip, a choked sob leaving your lips as he continued to finger fuck you into oblivion. What didn’t help was Bi-Han whispering the most obscene things into your ear, melting your mind with his voice alone.

“Your face is so cute when you’re fucked out like that.”

“So weak for me, have you been like this all along?”

“I should’ve had you like this from the beginning, you’re prettier as my stupid whore than a Lin Kuei warrior.”

Despite the degradation, it never fails to make your knees weak. Your body practically shakes with how desperate you’ve become, the coil in your stomach tightens as he brings you to your high, and you would’ve collapsed if it weren’t for Bi-Han holding your waist up. He’s beyond arrogant for a Grandmaster, but he has the skills to back up that annoyingly prideful attitude.

“Grandmaster, I’m gonna cum…” You whined, raising your hips higher to chase your pleasure. However, Bi-Han didn’t respond with words, replying with steady, deep panting resonating in your ear. It was as if his cold fingers set your insides on fire, the loud slap of his palm making contact with your ass, more of your fluids soaking his middle and ring finger with ease.

You let out a choked sob, your entire body giving out as you were overwhelmed by your orgasm. He wraps his arm around your body, supporting your trembling body as he continued to finger fuck you into another realm. “Such a good little toy for me.” He murmurs, your eyes rolling back from how electrifying his cold fingers feel inside you. You whined when his fingers left you, turning your head to find Bi-Han staring at his fingers wistfully, spreading apart his middle and ring finger to find a thick white string connecting the two together.

His gaze shifts to your embarrassed form, a smirk present on his face just before he shoves his fingers in your mouth.

“Suck.” He demands, “Clean up your mess, dirty slut.”

His fingers were thick beyond words, feeling more as a popsicle due to how cold they were. But you obeyed without hesitation, your hands trembling as you grabbed his hand. He forces his fingers further into your throat, tilting his head as you struggle to adapt to the intrusion. “By the gods, you look so terribly debauched like this.” Bi-Han scoffs, his other hand caressing your cheek as if you were his equal.

“It makes me want to fuck you dumb.”

Bi-Han’s eyes narrowed, lowering his boxers just enough to where his cock would be exposed, another purposeful show of power. He takes note of your naked body, pushing you down onto your back before climbing on top of you. Bi-Han places his hands on the underside of your thighs, experimentally pushing your legs towards your chest. “Suitable enough.”

He hooks your legs onto his shoulders, gliding his dick along your slick folds, taunting you, teasing you. You can’t help but let out a shaky moan, “Please Grandmaster.” You plead, but he takes his time, his gaze boring into your teary eyes. It was almost as if he intended to melt you with his dark brown eyes alone, it brought a shiver down your spine and if you weren’t about to be fucked into Outworld and back, you’d probably collapse to your knees to suck his dick.

Bi-Han would probably get off to that, now that you think about it. He’s always liked a good show of obedience after all.

He taps the head of his dick right onto your clit, and your body jolts as if you’ve been shocked by lightning itself. He can’t help but grin at the sight, his ego swelling larger than his body can contain it. After what seems like forever, he presses the tip of his cock right at the entrance of your pussy. Although he doesn’t utter a word, that mere action in and of itself is a warning for what’s to come.

Bi-Han goes slow, agonizing slow. Despite his degrading words, there’s a look in his eyes that tell so much more than his words do. You’d dwell on it further if it weren’t for his dick practically stretching you out. Not only did you feel so overwhelmingly full, but it hurt in a way that was pleasurable. But you couldn’t word that into a proper sentence, there’s no way you could when Bi-Han is directly above you, his face contorted into restrained pleasure as he tries so desperately to hold himself back from fucking you like an animal in heat.

“By the Gods… you feel heavenly.” It was the only kind thing he had said this entire encounter. Tears of pained pleasure fall from your eyes, he notices them as soon as they hit your cheek, wiping them away with his thumb. “No tears.” He tuts, kissing the outermost corner of your eyes. It’s chilly of course, why wouldn’t it be? But something about his actions brings you comfort, rather than the sheer blizzard he carries with him on the daily, it’s more of a gentle breeze ghosting your skin.

Bi-Han fucks you as if it was the last thing he was going to do, burying his face into the crook of your neck to prevent you from seeing his face. He pants, blowing cold air against your neck and your body shivers in response. “So tight f’me.” The Grandmaster mumbles, his grip on your hips strengthening. It was so hard to think with the way he pounded into you as if you were nothing but his toy. It was exhilarating, it was like the pain you felt from your injuries from the prior mission was never there in the first place.

If your wounds reopen as a result of this, then so be it. Getting the fuck of your life was worth any punishment he would give. Bi-Han suddenly pulls out, and flips you onto your stomach, grabbing your waist and thrusting mercilessly. You were desperate to find some sort of purchase, but the wood flooring gave you none. Your eyes rolled back as you pleaded for mercy, and you let out a shriek when you came on his cock, biting your lower lip in a futile attempt to ground yourself.

“That’s twice now, my pet.” He sighs, his eyebrows knitting at his impending climax. Bi-Han spanks you once more, and you let out a needy whine, grinding up against him in desperation. “Where do you want me?” You try to answer, but it comes out as meaningless babble instead. He stills his hips, pressing his chest against your back. “Use your words.”

“In… Inside, cum inside me, I’m begging you.” You moaned, you felt your entire body shaking with desire, increased by the groans Bi-Han made. It’s all for you, no one has heard these noises but you.

God damn, you felt so special.

With precise thrusts he’d flood your insides white, letting out an unabashed moan you’d never believe came from him. Despite the rest of his body being cold as ice, his spent inside you made you feel warm. Bi-Han pants above you, pulling out of you and watching his cum dribble out of you, dripping out onto the floor. “I ought to make you clean that up.” He grumbles, but he uses a tissue to clean up the mess, chucking it into the trash can with near perfect aim.

Bi-Han lifts your exhausted body, tossing you onto the sofa in his office. He doesn’t clean you up, he doesn’t have time to. But you’re sure that this is his way of caring for you. He returns back to his desk, working on whatever reports he’d have to do as Grandmaster. Your eyes droop closed, your breath evening out.

Perhaps you could get used to living life as his spouse.

ugh i literally need to be sedated this man has got me so down bad HES ONE OF THE REASONS WHY MY INBOX ISNT CLEARED. grabs him and shakes him like a ragdoll, also this is really self indulgent so he might be ooc…….. my bad

[joelsgreys]

joel miller masterlist

fic notifs l ao3

THIS BLOG IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI 🛑

🔥= indicates smut

oneshots & drabbles

not a thing l part ii summary: You and Joel had a private moment while Ellie was asleep. Or so you’d thought she was asleep.

weakness l part ii 🔥 summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s takes an unexpected turn for you and Joel when some feelings start coming to the surface.

we need you summary: Afraid of failing the two of the people he cares about more than anything, Joel decides you and Ellie are better off without him.

jealous summary: You aren’t together, but Joel doesn't want to see you with anyone else.

stay summary: You’re in Jackson with Joel and Ellie after Salt Lake City and the loss of somebody you failed to protect haunts you and leaves you wondering if the wound will ever heal—and how you’ll ever go on if it never does.

what he didn’t do summary: You’re very recently divorced, but that doesn’t stop a certain brown-eyed neighbor from taking you out on a date.

strawberry 🔥 summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what. AU, NO OUTBREAK (TW) DDLG

punishment 🔥 summary: You drag your boyfriend to your best friend’s annual Halloween party and get brave after a couple of drinks—it’s not like Joel’s really going to punish you while all of your friends are under the same roof, right? AU, NO OUTBREAK (TW) DDLG. POSSIBLE DUBCON.

captive 🔥 summary: You find yourself missing your captor while he’s out on an early morning hunt with the rest of the group. TW DARK!JOE. DUBCON.

frosting 🔥 summary: Joel agrees to help you decorate Christmas cookies and things get a little messy. AU, NO OUTBREAK (TW) DDLG

someone to be thankful for 🔥 summary: It’s Thanksgiving—when dinner with your nightmare of a family goes south, you find comfort in the person you least expect it from: your father’s best friend, Joel Miller. AU, NO OUTBREAK, DBF! Joel Miller

series

a safe haven l ongoing l 🔥 summary: When Joel Miller and Ellie Williams return to Jackson, Wyoming to begin their new lives, the last thing Joel expects is to catch the eye of the thriving community’s equine veterinarian. Young, beautiful, and married, Joel knows that he should stay away from a woman like you, but he can’t help but to be drawn to you like a moth to a flame. As you start growing closer to both Joel and Ellie, you find out all about the secrets they both carry—and they find out you’ve been hiding a secret or two of your own.

fall into temptation l completed l 🔥 summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamn preacher’s daughters.

miscellaneous

snapshots l ongoing summary: Moments of Joel Miller’s life in Jackson, Wyoming with his girls.