#-the reader ☠️
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harmonysanreads · 10 days ago
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I just finished reading the Phainon where reader is sick. And woahh it's so well-written?? I LOVE IT. like an insanely devoted yandere like Phainon?? he's so delulu... Poor reader, THEY SOUND SO DONE OMG I can just imagine them doing this when Phainon started yapping how much he loves them::
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Like I can already feel their frustration when some1 so delusional it makes you irritated sm, ESPECIALLY WHEN HE KEEPS BREAKING INTO YOUR HOUSE
Reader when Phainon breaks into their house for the 6th time::
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LMAO I LOVE THIS
You gave me ideas to make more memes for the interaction ehe
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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago
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omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!
EVERY INCH 2
2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader
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follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3
SERIES MASTERLIST
A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N. 
SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.
You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .
Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 
It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  
The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"
"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 
You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."
"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."
"What do you want?"
"I asked how you liked the movie." 
Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 
"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."
Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 
He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”
"wishful thinking," you reply. 
Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”
You’re not even going to argue. 
“How was your date?" 
"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.
"You didn't look interested.” 
"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.
"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”
You freeze. 
He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"
You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"
"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 
You scoff. 
". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"
"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."
"Pervert."
“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.
"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  
You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 
“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 
Are you that predictable?  
“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 
“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 
Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal
“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 
“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 
“Yeah, that’s it . . .”
You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 
He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.
You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 
"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 
He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?
“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 
"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 
You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 
“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 
You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 
“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 
“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”
“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.
“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 
“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”
You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 
—---
You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.
“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  
“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”
You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   
The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.
“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 
The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  
He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  
You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 
“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 
He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 
The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 
“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.
“Who are you?”
“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.
“What do you want?”
“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 
He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 
The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 
“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 
He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.
“Good girl,” he says.
His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 
------
Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.
“Now where’s my knife.”
“I don’t have it,” you claim. 
“I don’t believe you.” 
“What’s so special about it?”
“It’s mine.” 
“The cops have it.” 
“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”
You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 
He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.
NEXT: PART 3
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Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.
Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.
Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹
@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.
Slasher master list
@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07
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everythingspokenfor · 1 month ago
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Just thought of calling Bakugou, nasty because he asked you to spit in his mouth. Only for him to look at you, with mischief in his eyes, as he pushed his hand between you both, messily grabbing the base of his cock, that was coated with both your cum. Lathering his fingers with creamy mess, Bakugou brought his hand to his mouth and sucked on his fingers, only breaking eye contact to shut his eyes and moan around the digits.
"nothin' nasty babe, just lil' bit of me and lil' bit of you", he slurred,pulling you into a messy kiss and resuming his thrusts ..
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xanaxspritz · 11 months ago
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choso loves your tits a little too much. maybe too much for his own good. they're huge, and take up too much space and unwanted attention, but choso loves them with as much love he has for one of his brothers. you find his hand randomly groping one of your breasts randomly throughout the day, even in public. embarrassed, you tell him people are watching but choso doesn't care, your tits are now his fidget toy. luckily for both of you your breasts are extremely sensitive, which means endless amounts of pleasure when choso latches on your nipple, nursing to his heart's content while you have orgasm after orgasm. you watch him spend his precious time on each of your heavy breasts, his tongue flicking and sucking your erect puffy nipples while his head rests on your pillow-soft tits. you run you hands through his silky black hair, he's too adorable like this.
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hazbingirliexoxo · 9 months ago
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Alastor: Do you ever wonder how many houses you’ve passed in your lifetime that have people locked in the basement?😃
Reader: ….
Angel: Like in a kinky BDSM kinda way or…?
Reader: What the actual fuck is wrong with you two?
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inknopewetrust · 9 months ago
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BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM [he’s a fictional character that doesn’t exist]
IM HAVING HIS BABY [no I’m not because he’s a fictional character]
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toxicbrothel · 4 months ago
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Bad Ideas
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PAIRING: raider!Joel x f!reader x f!friend x Carter WORD COUNT: 2.5k  NOTE/SUMMARY: Joel is primary (you're sweet pea). Carter is an OC. Same non-canon raider AU as Girl Talk. (poll). Carter's girl is not described. They all sleep in the same bed. what could go wrong? WARNINGS: 🔞, mostly smut, MFFM kinda, choking, violence, hair pulling, biting, questionable orgasm timing, angst, dark sweet pea. read at your own discretion. 
The fire pops and crackles, filling the silence. It’s been a few minutes since either of the men said anything. All you hear is the fire and Joel’s breath, heavy with need. You’re stifling moans with your face in his neck while you straddle him. He’s got one hand on your ass and one on your back as he  grinds you on his hard bulge. His manhood throbs against you, nudging you in just the right spot. The whisky on his breath is stronger than usual. 
He lets out a soft grunt and pulls you harder against him. Closer, tighter so his clothed cock is aimed at your wet little hole instead. He’s going to make you desperate for it. With Joel nudging you like that with his hard-on, your wetness begins to seep into his denim. The need to be filled is overwhelming. Will he fuck you right here? He’s done it in front of plenty of people, but normally it’s just men. It turns you on a little more, thinking about doing it in front of her. A private show, just for them. 
~//ofc pov//~
Carter and his girl--your friend--are only about two meters away, and she’s seated on him in the same fashion. They couldn’t help themselves after a few minutes of trying not to watch you and Joel and hearing the noises you’re trying to stifle. She’s heard you moan before. They all have. She’s heard it with her head between your legs, with her fingers knuckles deep getting soaked by your sweet little cunt. When the boys got home from their last hunting trip, the two of you were on the sofa, with your legs stacked together while she expertly massaged your tit, thumbing your nipple into a peak while you grinded on her thigh between your legs. Now she’s grinding herself on Carter as they make out. 
She can’t really help herself. He’s a good kisser, and he’s rock hard. What she really wants is Carter inside her, but rocking against him, feeling the stiffness and girth of his perfect cock is the next best thing. She rolls her hips slowly.
His mouth breaks away from hers to mutter, “Fuck, sugar,” then a cautionary, “Hol’on.” His hands on her thighs hold her still for a moment. She giggles and they look at each other fondly for a moment. His eyes always sparkle when he’s with her, but now his face is wrecked with arousal.
Carter has so much restraint. Sometimes she wishes he was more like Joel, giving it to his girl any time, anywhere.
They start kissing again, softer, less sloppy. 
~//🌸🫛//~
Joel murmurs into your hair, “You gonna come for me?” 
Your response is interrupted by a loud clap of thunder. When you jump, Joel chuckles.
A fat raindrop lands on your head. 
Carter gives his girl a kiss on the forehead and nudges her off his lap. He subtly adjusts himself before standing up and going to grab the tarp by the side of the trailer. “Guess we should try to beat the rain,” he tells her as he covers the unused firewood. 
You glance at her and she gives you a disappointed look. 
You put your hands around the back of Joel's neck, gently resting your thumbs just in front of his earlobes. He raises an eyebrow like he knows you want something. 
You bite your lip and almost laugh. 
“I'm listening,” he teases.  
“Can they stay?” you ask. 
“Whatcha want’em to stay for?” 
Heat rises to your cheeks “I just like hanging out with her.” 
“Uh-huh,” he says with teasing skepticism.  “I know ya do,” he reminds you. 
Another clap of thunder and it begins to pour. 
Joel clears his throat and shouts, “Come on in, it's early. Storm’ll blow over. ”
You’re all wet by the time you get inside. The dog gets to come in too, but he has to stay in the bathroom. In the kitchen, the men have another drink. The storm is picking up outside. You sit on Joel’s lap, side-saddle. He’s so handsome in the lantern light. Carter’s girl sits in the chair next to him, and he holds her hand in her lap. She yawns into her shoulder. 
“pull-out’s in there if ya wanna call it a night,” Joel nods toward the living room. Then he murmurs across the top of your ear, “You tired?” 
You remind him, “the roof leaks in there.” 
“Shit, you’re right,” Joel replies. 
“Bed’s big enough,” you whisper, then put your hand on the lamp’s handle like you’re ready to bring it to the bedroom.
“Hear that, Carter?” Joel picks up his glass to down the rest of his whiskey. He swallows and puts it back down, with his voice a little lower. “Fine by me.” 
~//flashback//~
After catching you girls together that time, Joel and Carter had talked. You overheard some of it and were surprised to hear Carter was the hesitant one. Joel was always far more possessive (than anyone, ever), but that was partly why he made peace with it: If something happened to Joel, he would rather you have your friend than someone else. He knew you didn’t look at her the way you looked at him. He knew she was just for fun. The thought of another man swooping in made his blood boil, but he didn’t want you to be completely alone.
Carter, on the other hand, was concerned. He was worried about Joel getting jealous and getting rid of the girl. Taking a sexual interest in you wasn't good for anyone's lifespan.
“I don’t get jealous,” Joel claimed. “Just don’t like men disrespectin’ my girl.” 
“snapped a girl's neck for puttin’ hands on her,” Carter reminded him.
Joel scoffed. “Snapped her neck cause she damn near killed ya, brother.” 
Carter was moved. After a few moments of silence, he agreed. “If it’s too much, promise you’ll say somethin'. I don't wanna lose her, man.” 
Joel nodded, and that was that. 
~//~
Now Joel’s fucking you from behind in the spoon position, holding onto your hip. Your friend’s face is getting closer to yours with every thrust from Carter behind her. Carter is holding her breast.
As the gap gets smaller and smaller between you and her, your erect nipple brushes against something hard - Carter's knuckles. His hand quickly moves out of the way with a quiet curse into his girl’s hair. But the split-second contact has already sent a chill down your spine that makes you twitch on Joel's cock. The deep growl Joel lets out gives you butterflies. 
Your bodies drift even closer until your breasts are smashed against hers, and you’re sloppily kissing. You’re floating in a cozy world of pleasure with her mouth on yours, her tongue finding yours after sliding along your lower lip. Her tits feel so good against you, moving to the beat of Carter’s hips. The power of Joel’s rhythm grinds you against her. You almost lift your leg so your knee rests on her hip, but think better of it when you imagine Joel’s balls grazing her. Your lips stop moving as you close your eyes and focus on Joel. You and she breathe against each other’s mouths, letting out sounds of pleasure with your tits still touching. You squeeze her side, then slide your hand to her breast and her nipple gets harder with your touch. 
Joel grunts and pulls you back against him, and off of her. The move feels more primal than anything. He probably didn’t think about her at all. He doesn’t think when he’s ravaging you. He only takes what’s his and bends you to his will. It’s the way he can’t physically get enough. Can’t be deep enough inside. Can’t have enough of your body against his. Can’t hold you tight enough.  Always hungry for more. 
He gropes around the front of your chest as he pounds you, his wide palm smashing your breast. Joel’s thrusts are sharp and deep, and his breathing is more vocal with every stroke of his cock through your tight, soft walls. He must be getting close. He bottoms out for two seconds and you let out a whimper, pushing back on him.  “That’s my girl,” he growls as his hips begin to move, and the slow, thick drag of his cock makes you forget everything else. His arm tightens, and his breath is hot in your hair. Your skin is slippery against his. You’re a humid row of bodies, writhing and sliding against each other under a quiet medley of heavy breaths, grunts, and sighs. 
“That’s it, baby,” Carter says in a husky near-whisper. 
“Ohhh--good girl,” Joel pants, grinding deep inside you. You let out a moan, and it’s echoed by one from her. Your eyes flutter open. 
Carter has slowed down. He's fucking her deep and smooth with a hand on her hip. A flash of lightning illuminates the room. Carter is kissing her neck, making her whimper, and a glimpse of his tongue on her skin makes you twitch. Her mouth is open, and her brow furrows with pleasure. “You like that?” Carter mumbles into her neck at a low octave before tasting her skin again, then marking her with bruising suction, drawing another moan. He releases her neck with a smack. 
“Whose are ya,” Joel murmurs. Your pussy gives his dick a little squeeze.
“Yours,” you reply. “always.” 
“Good girl.”
His. Always his. As much as you enjoy her. You could never be anyone else’s. You wouldn’t dream of it.
She tries to grope your breast, but Joel's hand is there. She breathes out a laugh, and when her hand doesn't move right away, you notice–even through the haze of pleasure. You pull back, pressing your back harder into Joel’s chest. You take her hand off of Joel's, and brush your chest with her fingers so she can feel the letters of his name. You interlace your fingers with hers.
“feel so good, sugar” Carter pants behind her. 
Another flash of lightning, and you see she's looking over your head. Your heart races. She’s looking at Joel. There’s no way he’s looking back at her, you reassure yourself, but you keep an eye on her over the next few seconds. The sight isn't as jarring in the dimmer lamplight, but her chin stays lifted upward, and so do her eyes. After another thrust of Joel inside you, she’s still looking at him. Your face tenses and tingles. You find your upper body trying to wiggle out of Joel’s tight grip. You put a hand on the back of her neck and pull her toward you at the same time.
Her neck still glistens with Carter’s spit as your mouth is drawn to it like a magnet. 
“Mm,” she moans as you plant your lips and suck. You widen your jaw, and your mind goes someplace else. 
"fuck," Carter breathes, "you close?"
The next thing you know, she’s wailing, with your teeth digging unforgivingly into her skin, not budging, only trying to sink deeper.
Carter groans with his release.  
Joel keeps fucking you, too wrapped up in the edge of his orgasm to even correct the gap that’s grown between your hair and his face. 
“Carter,” she cries, then chokes, “Carter.” 
“Shit,” he slowly comes back to reality, realizing what's happening.
Carter reaches around the back of your head and grabs a fist of your hair, trying to pry you off, but it only feels good to you. “Do somethin’, Miller.” His plea shakes Joel out of the spell enough to take you back, or try. 
When you resist the pull of his arm, Joel’s hand wraps around your throat. “C’mere,” he growls with a deep thrust. You tense up, squeezing his cock tight. 
“God damn” he curses, using the pressure of his forearm between your breasts, trying to pry you off, but not being rough with you, yet. “C’mere, sweet pea.” His fingers add some pressure to your neck.
With your mouth still on her neck, a modest climax ripples through your core, squeezing him tighter. Youre too numb to fully experience it- even the orgasm’s not enough to make you let go.
Joel sternly says your name. He tightens his grip, and you finally release her neck from your mouth.
He loosens his hand and pulls you fully back into his embrace with a groan, bottoming out and erupting. The warmth of his spend spreads like a blanket, soothing you along with the pulsing of his cock. 
You catch your breath and a hint of copper on your tongue. 
She’s blubbering. Looking for attention, when she should be apologizing and leaving.
“What the fuck,” Carter mutters, then tries to soothe her.  “Shhhh. It's okay, you're good.” 
“Crazy bitch,” she mumbles. 
You tense and Joel holds you tighter. “Hey,” he murmurs into your hair. “You’re okay.”
Carter's disapproving face turns to concern as he studies your face. "you good, peanut?" He asks you between heaving breaths.
She quietly sobs in unintelligible protest, hand on her neck. 
“Lemme see,” Carter says and retrieves the lamp from the bedside. He brings the lamp closer to her neck and his face darkens from shock to horror when he sees the damage. “Jesus,” he whispers.
The rain is really coming down hard. Bullet is whimpering in the bathroom and clawing at the door.  
Joe’s arms loosen around you. “Hey,” you grumble in protest when his cock slides out of you. He props himself up to have a look. Then he’s quiet. He lifts his hand and holds it like he’s about to touch her neck while examining the wound. You sharply inhale and he stops short. 
“Get her outta here,” Joel mutters. “Give us a minute.” 
Carter replies, “Where'd that come from–” 
“I’ll handle it,” Joel cuts him off. "Get her outta here."
A clap of thunder.
“Did you cum,” you ask Carter with a blank face. He stares at you with his mouth slightly agape, and you could swear you see him blush.
Saving both of you from Joel's wrath, Carter pretends you were talking to his girl. "She woulda."
"well, she wasn't--" you think about telling Carter his girl wasn't thinking about him, but think better of it. You don't wanna hurt him. "Nevermind."
As he puts his boxers on, Carter boldly tells Joel, "this was always gonna be trouble." Bewildered, he looks back and forth between you and Joel behind you.
Then, Carter helps his girl off the bed. "Alright, come on, baby."
You don’t look directly at her. You’re spaced out.
"i know, baby," he cradles her head as she stands up. He ushers her to the kitchen to look at her neck. 
-
Joel gets up from the bed and pulls on his boxers. 
Bullet is going nuts in the bathroom.
“Do you think Bullet’s okay?” you ask, but Joel doesn't check on him or let him out. All he does is close the bedroom door. As he’s slowly making his way back to you, lightning flashes. 
Joel’s jaw flexes as he stares you down from the shadow of his brow, fingers twitching at his sides. 
He reaches the edge of the bed where you lie. He stands there, facing you.
“That was...bad,” he scolds calmly. Your heart sinks. You would rather him be mad than disappointed. If you deserve anything it's to get smacked around a bit, not this serious face from him.
You sit up, sit back on your knees, and try to hug him. Your eyes water, and your apology barely croaks out. "I'm sorry, you repeat." He feels even taller than usual from this angle. You lower your head, with your arms still loosely around him, nuzzling your hair against his tummy. 
He pulls away a bit and lifts your chin to look at him. Lightning flashes. 
He takes a firm hold of your jaw. “Biting. . .is not okay.” His jaw clenches, and he reads your eyes trying to see if you got it. “Ever,” he adds. The look on his face tells you not to argue.
“Yes sir,” you mumble. 
"You okay?" He asks.
"Okay," he nods to himself. His glistening chest heaves. His neck vein is bulging as he looks down at you. "God damn," he whispers to himself, sounding annoyed. He cracks his neck with no hands, trying to relax.
“You're trying not to hurt me,” you observe. 
He takes a deep breath through his nose and slowly nods as he exhales. “Cause I know how much ya like it.”
You rub your lips together and look down and away. He lays a gentle hand on your head.
When you look up to meet his eyes again, he’s trying to suppress a smile. 
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Ty for reading and compartmentalizing lol 🖤
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impish-baby · 3 months ago
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My heart still beats - platonic yandere werewolf sister x reader - 🐾
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The den is soft. The ground lined with plush blankets and pillows, it be cozy if your hands weren't currently chained to the wall.
Running hadn't been worth it in the end. The forrest too unfamiliar and overwhelming, especially in your new wolf form, for you to get anywhere substantial. All it did was make you exhausted, leaving Rowen to pick you up by your scruff and drag you home.
He's out hunting now, leaving Madison behind to 'babysit' you. The older girl is leaving you alone for the most part, although every few minutes she creeps closer to where you're bound. Anytime you growl at her, she stops only to start again a few minutes later.
She likely just wants to cuddle, but you're far from in the mood at the present moment. It doesn't deter her for long however, Madison soon pressing against your side and ignoring your attempt to snap at her.
"Hush.." She scoffs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "You're the one who got in trouble, it's not my fault so stop being grumpy." It's not like she's making you feel better! Madison seems perfectly fine snuggling with you despite your obvious discomfort, patting your head patronizingly. "Poor pup got put in time out.." She only laughs when you growl this time, "You're fine, dad let you get off easy."
Madison sighs, resting her head on your shoulder. "It's only until he's back, ok? Then you can run around and cause all the problems you want."
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selfproclaimed-moviecritic · 10 months ago
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This is so Beach Walks and just overall Night Walks coded I am having a heart attack fr @toxicanonymity
I do not own these photos!!! They are from @joeIsmillers on Twitter!!
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pedriscroquettes · 6 months ago
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𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄? ✮ F. LÓPEZ
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summary. fermín wants to celebrate his new trophy with you.
warnings. 18+ mean! fermín. smut.
gabri speaks! paz!reader universe is back due to popular demand.
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the view of the apartment the guys rented for the party was breathtaking. madrid was a beautiful city, you were glad your brother had convinced your parents to move in with him. although right now you were alone in madrid surrounded by a bunch of players you didn’t know. a bunch of players your brother hated. in the midst of drunk players and their friends you kept tugging your short red dress every five minutes. you were beginning to regret even coming, you were only here because of a certain blonde. a blonde you had yet to see.
“didn’t bring nico?” you’re startled by a familiar voice.
“why? you have a crush on my brother?” you ask him surprised at the sudden interest fermín had for your brother.
“no but it would’ve been nice to show him what a trophy looks like.” you can barely see him through the dim lights but you know he’s smirking. you can hear it in his voice.
“if i’m not wrong you barely had minutes. i’m not too sure you have any bragging rights.” you test him.
“and somehow i played more minutes than your brother has his whole career.” his tone changes. “watch your mouth. you look prettier like that.”
you’re taken aback by his change in demeanor quite frankly you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him this riled up. he’s rough and threatening, his good boy facade long gone. you’re amused by the way he’s acting wondering if he’s trying to get you to sleep with him again. you place your hand on his jaw while the other goes into his hair, tempting him.
“it’s such a shame that you could be celebrating your win but instead you’re bitching about my brother like a sad little envious child.” you say sharply not taking insults to your brother lightly.
the smirk that once adorned his face was now gone and you could tell he was mad at you now. he grips your hands away from him with such a tight hold you’ll know they’ll be bruised tomorrow. his eyes pierce into yours with a threatening look and you realize you’ve successfully riled him up.
“okay, that’s it.” he murmurs.
one minute you’re looking at fermín dead in the eye and the next you feel his hands grip your waist. his hold is so strong on you that he manages to carry you over his shoulder with ease. you’re not that surprised at how easily he’s picked you up, you’ve noticed how bulkier he got over the past year. when the guy you’ve been fucking on the low gets hotter you notice.
“fermín! put me down!” you shriek.
the blonde just finds it funny laughing at your vulnerability. your screams manage to get the attention of his teammates and their guests. the least you could say is that he was embarrassing you in front of everyone and you hoped that none of the real madrid players were here. the last thing you needed was to get embarrassed and scolded by your brother. the faces of the guest slowly fade away as fermín drags you to what you can assume is his room. he gently drops you on the bed before laying down next to you.
“you’re such an asshole.” you whine as you fix your dress. it’s then that you realize that some of the guests had probably seen your dress skirt up, your face heats up instantly at that.
you don’t get to bicker at him for much longer because he pulls you on top of him. his hands instantly go towards your hips — a muscle memory for him by now — and holds you. you can already feel him grow hard against you and you get excited. the two of you had just argued and now here he was with a hard on. he thrusts up against you causing a whine to slip past your lips at the sensation.
“such a shame that you could use your mouth for beautiful noises like this instead of arguing.” he murmurs under his breathe trying to contain his groans.
it’s your turn to grind against him causing his breath to falter. he places himself against the crook of your neck as you continue your movements, leaving wet kisses along your throat. you move your hands into the light curls of his hair as you feel yourself growing wetter.
“instead of trying to compete against my brother every five seconds you could be fucking me but you don’t see me complaining.” and there you go always trying to have the last word.
“shut the fuck up and spread your legs.” he groans.
you hesitate but you obey nevertheless. his hand trails down your figure until he places it firmly on your thigh, teasing you. he knows you need him and the idea of making you frustrated is amusing to him. you can’t stand it anymore — his touch being so close yet so far — you yearn him. it’s almost pathetic except for the fact that you know he feels the same way. he’s the one who wanted you first and he always ends up satisfying you even if he’s mad.
his fingers slowly tread up your leg and you grow frustrated at the edging. you can’t stand it anymore so you drag his fingers to where you need him the most causing a teasing laugh to leave his lips. you know he’ll give you shit about this later but you don’t care, you need him. he also seems to think the same as he doesn’t waste time spreading your wetness along your folds. your hips instinctively grind into his hand as his fingers start circling your clit causing waves of pleasure throughout your body.
“oh, fuck.” you whine as he brings a couple of his fingers towards your hole.
“say you want my fingers.” he looks at you with a defying grin. “say it or else i’ll leave you here all alone.”
“fuck fermín please.” you gasp as one of his fingers enters you slowly. “i need your fingers, please”
he leaves a quick kiss on your jaw before inserting you with his second finger. your body collapses against his chest as he fucks you slowly. the intrusion is sudden and your hands grip the sheets below you as he fills you up. the feeling is intense and you feel feral at the way you moan without holding back. the thing about fermín was that while he was asshole at least he fucked, hard. his free hand grabs you by the throat forcing you to look at him as you ride his hand.
he looks at you in awe admiring the way your eyes get glossy as you fuck yourself on his fingers. he analyzes the way your hair bounces with every movement of your hips and how your eyes close and your nose scrunches a bit before reaching your peak. he adds a third finger hoping to help you reach your high. you’re full on whining in his ear now as he fills you up completely. the sensation of your walls clinging to his fingers so tightly also allow him a sense of satisfaction.
“fermín. please.” you weren’t even sure what you were begging for. you only knew that you were close.
“you’re so close.” he whispers as he pulls you in for a kiss. the kiss is sloppy but soft. a mixture of lost and love. it scares you, nevertheless you come around his fingers gasping as you wet his fingers.
“fuck, that was hot. you’re hot.” fermín rambles as he helps you come down from your orgasm.
as you adjust your dress and fix your hair fermín watches you intensely. he’s tired of only seeing you like this and never normally. he hadn’t slept with anyone else since you came into his life and you were making him crazy. the feeling of knowing fran was so close of having you too was too much for him and he wasn’t sure why felt so possessive about you.
was it just lust or was it love?
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gfguren · 1 year ago
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pro hero!bakugou x sidekick!reader | fluff, mutual pining, blatant flirting, bakugou calls reader darlin', bakugou is soft(ish) | cw: injury, mentions of alcohol, name calling (idiot), kisses kisses kisses
-bakugou tends to your injury, pining for you nearly as much as you do for him-
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Your arm burns in waves, like kindling fire, the plain between your elbow and wrist a bramble of red and purple. It stings like a million tiny thorns pricking your skin.
"Why'd'cha get in the way, y'damn idiot!" Bakugou's words are fierce and his brow is drawn, but you see the way his cheeks flush. He's embarrassed, guilt-ridden though it's not his fault. Not really.
You were both too overzealous for your own goods, determined to land the final blow on the villains. But his quirk was bigger, more explosive, harder to stop when your hands inevitably collided. You're just lucky your arm took the brunt of it.
Still, you smile despite the pain and his frown deepens, "What? Hit y'r head too?"
You take a step forward, then two, crossing the threshold of your front door, reveling in the way his blush travels to his ears. "Did you come all the way here just to nag me?" There's a lilt of amusement in your voice, and he huffs, exasperation on his breath. "Or are you finally gonna give me that?"
You point to the bag dangling from his fingertips, pharmacy label half hidden by his baggy combat trousers. He's still in costume, mask pushed up over his wild, blonde hair, light sheen of sweat dotting his forehead and shoulders.
He's a proper distraction from the pain at least.
His gaze falls to his own hand, as if he'd entirely forgotten. There's a palpable moment of hesitation, and then he grunts, knuckles clenching; he thrusts it against your chest.
"Did'cha sterilize it, at least?"
You're half listening, shuffling through the contents of the bag. "Mhm, rinsed it with water when I got home."
"Y'r hopeless, darlin'."
You shrug, "If a little burn could take me out, I wouldn't be much of a hero, now would I?"
He snorts, "If y'were such a good hero, you'd have dodged in the first place."
"You think?" You humor his attitude, heart swelling in your chest when you spot your favorite candy hidden beneath the ointments and bandages. You have half a mind to tease him about it. "Are you gonna help me put this on?"
His arms fold across his chest, half a scowl twisting his face. He leans back, tapping a heavy boot against the floorboards. "And why would I do that?"
He must think he's subtle but you read him like a book, finger the pages, read between the lines. There's worry in his brow, guilt, turmoil, anger directed at his own self.
You figured it would help alleviate his conscience, at least.
"That's fine. I'll get around to it eventually." You turn on your heel, adding a cheeky "probably" to accentuate the wave of your hand, nudge him into action. It works.
Warm fingers encircle your wrist and you bite your tongue, suppress the laugh inching it's way up your throat. Predictable, cute. It takes everything in you not to grin.
Two big hands push you down by the shoulders, cushions folding beneath your thighs. Bakugou holds a palm out expectantly and you place your own atop his, reveling in the way his nose scrunches in frustration.
You don't miss the way he lets it linger—just for a moment—before finally swatting it away with a half-hearted flick of the wrist. "The ointment, idiot."
You relent, handing him the thin white tube. He spreads a stripe down his fingertips, seat dipping beside you; he extends his opposite hand. "Now your hand."
You grin, fingers gently curling around his own. It's not meant to be romantic, the way he draws you forward, presses your knuckles to his chest. He's just trying to get a better look at the wound, head tilting this way and that. But his hand is so warm, and he's so pretty from this angle, and when his eyes rise to meet yours his breath hitches in his throat; and so does yours.
It's intimate, familiar.
It makes you want to break whatever this unspoken 'something' is that the two of you have fostered—this growing affection you're both too proud to admit that wears on you, leaves you yearning to lean just a little closer and finally concede.
Just like all those nights ago, when he got a little too drunk at the hero convention, quickly annoyed by the crowds and reporters, the loud, boasting heroes. His champagne glass was quickly emptied once more, grunting when he pushed back in his chair. You remember leaning closer, close enough to discretely ask if he was alright. His red hot stare followed, burned through your chest and down to your core, left you shifting restlessly in your seat.
The air was thick when he finally careened upward, swaying perilously as he took you by the wrist, led you up and out of the dining hall until it was just the two of you, alone in an empty corridor. You could still hear the echo of stranger's voices, but it didn't bother him, not when he crowded you against the wall, not when his big hand fell to the space beside your head, or when his face dipped to linger just close enough to have your heart beating wildly in your chest.
"What about the party?"
"'S boring." He'd replied, fingers 'round your wrist, lingering on your pulse; he feels it stutter beneath his touch. "Y'scared?"
You would be, should be, if it was anyone else. Big, leering, all rippling muscle and explosive temper—but it was Bakugou, your mentor, your best friend, heart of a hero and handsome as hell. You've loved him as long as you've known him.
"No."
He'd grinned, leaned forward til' his lips found yours, deeper, sweeter than you'd ever imagined, and gods you had, too many times.
"Good."
You're so lost in thought that you miss the way skin meets skin, thin buffer of ointment between you, and it burns—his fingers against your aching forearm. Your cheeky smile twists into a grimace and you can almost taste his guilt.
"Quit bein' a baby." Bakugou's bark holds no bite, touch softening until his rough fingers border featherlight. "Y'r a hero, r'member."
You watch as he carefully applies the medicine, touch gentling each time you flinch until he's barely touching you at all.
"You've said that a lot today. 'Hero'." You muse. "It's usually sidekick this, sidekick that."
He shoots you a look before wiping the ointment from his fingers. "Y'r my sidekick."
"Yeah?" You tilt your head, leaning forward to rest your chin on your unattended hand. "And what's the difference?"
He could answer you honestly, if he wanted. You're capable, brave, strong in your own right—beautiful to boot. You're the best of the best; Bakugou would never settle for less after all. Not that he was going to admit that.
Instead his lips twist in amusement, curling, lopsided, askew; you realize you won't be getting a straight answer.
"Y'should know by now when t'stay out of my way, is the difference." He pulls a bandage as big as his fist from the bag, pressing one corner to the flat of your palm, working it up and around until it reaches your wrist, and further still. "Was perfectly capable of handlin' it on my own."
"Seemed like you had your hands full with the big guy," you quip back, rubbing your thumb absently over the scratchy bandage. "Was I supposed to watch while the other one pummeled you from behind?"
He quirks a brow, you're not sure if he's annoyed or amused. "Woulda been fine. How d'ya think I made it to the top twenty, 've practically got eyes on the back of my head."
"You sure? Think I recall a time or two you've been whacked upside the head."
His eyes stray for only a moment, simmering up at you beneath dark lashes. "Think we might need t'get y'r eyes checked, darlin', seems y'r seein' things."
"Guess I need a hearing test too, since I remember you being a total crybaby about it."
He centers the tips of his thumb and pointer just above your brow, fingertips bouncing off your forehead, a tepid flick! and he's resuming his handiwork.
"Hey!" you pout, rubbing the offended area with your unfettered hand. "I'm injured, you're supposed to be nice to me!"
"And who's fault is that." He grins, light and easy and gone in an instant, with a flash of realization, guilt that reaches his eyes and worries his brow. It's his, still.
You sigh, "Look at me." And he does, begrudgingly as it may be. "It's not your fault. I should have trusted you more. And you should have trusted me. We're both idiots so quit blaming yourself." You lightly flick his forehead in return; he doesn't flinch, eyes never leaving your own. "Finish the wrapping and we'll call it even, yeah?"
He grumbles something lost on you, stretching the last bit of fabric beneath your elbow and tucking it into itself. He turns your arm over in his palm, lightly, carefully inspecting it before leaning back against the cushions. You can feel his guilt dissipate, the stress in his shoulders slowly deflating.
"Y'hurt anywhere else?" His voice is low, quiet. He desperately hopes not.
You think for a moment, read his face, his body language, and then you're rubbing the space above your brow, faking a pout if only to lighten the mood. "Yeah, some brute bruised my forehead earlier, think it needs medical attention."
He crosses his arms, muscles flexing, brow tightening in discontent. "I'm being serious."
You struggle to suppress the laugh bubbling up in your chest. "So am I. What a devastating injury, I fear I won't live long." You dramatically throw yourself over his lap, knuckles laid flat over your brow. There's a conflicting look in his eye; you struggle to read it. "If only a big, handsome hero woul-"
You nearly miss the annoyed huff, the subtle roll of his eyes, too enamored in the way he encircles your wrist with one big hand, guides it to rest against his chest before leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead.
You're sure there's hearts in your eyes when he straightens his shoulders, hand still idle against his heartbeat; his thumb absently strokes the soft underside of your wrist but his gaze doesn't linger. A hint of a blush creeps up his neck, eyes fixated on the opposite corner of the room. "Done bein' a crybaby?"
You try and fail, miserably so, to hide the delight dancing in your chest and curling your toes. There's a grin splitting your cheeks when you sit up, face an inch from his own. "Mhm."
You can feel his breath, his hesitation, the slippery, fluttering feelings he's struggling to catch, and name, and put into words. He decides it's easier to turn his back to them, to you—again.
It's always the same song and dance, one step forward, two steps back.
He's up in a moment, fidgeting with his tank, his gloves, his mask, anything he can get his hands on. You sigh, pushing off the couch, taking one step, two, arms wrapping snug around his middle. "What're y'doin'?"
"Checking something."
"And what's that, hah?"
"Whether or not you have eyes on the back of your head." He ignores your teasing, so you press a little further, tease a little more. "Either you don't," you squeeze him tighter, closer, smush your cheek against his back. "Or you totally just let me hug you."
He croons his head to stare you down, if looks could kill, you'd be very very toasty right about now. Still you laugh, hide your smile in the shadow of his broad shoulders, tip toe around him when twists around to face you.
Finally he catches you, two big hands clamped down on either shoulder. You wait for him to scold you, tongue between your teeth, bated breath in your lungs. But he only grunts, fingers curling around the base of your neck until he can slant his lips over your own.
You sigh, it's the second time Katsuki Bakugou's lips have been on yours. But they no longer taste of saltines, white wine, impulse or hesitation; it's not some drunken mistake or whimsy he'll pretend to have forgotten by morning. This time he's kissing you because he wants to. Because the feelings he harbors are just the same as yours.
And when he pulls away his red eyes have mellowed, a dull amber, an expectant cinnabar. There's a palpable silence, one beat, two, three—possibly. His impatience gets the better of him. "Well?"
You stifle a laugh, keen up at him, hands absently against his chest. "Well what?"
"What d'ya mean 'well what'?!"
What ever self control you had wavers, the incredulous look in his eyes sending you over the edge until your devolving into a fit of laughter.
"What's so funny, hah?"
"'m sorry." The laughter rattles you, chest like a suitcase too small to pack away the joy that fills you, spills over the brim in fits of laughter. It's infectious; Bakugou grins.
Your hands cup his cheeks. "You're too cute not to tease."
He sucks on his teeth. "Cute huh?" His hand cups your wrist, thumbs the bandage, careful, cute. "I nearly cooked ya and 'm 'cute?'"
You lean forward, bump your nose against his. "Mhm."
"There's somethin' wrong with you."
"Yeah, it's called the guy I like is completely oblivious and won't tell me he likes me."
"I kissed ya, twice. If y'didn't take the hint, that's on you."
You're smiling when you press your lips to his—quick, tepid, chaste, and over and over and over again.
He breaks away, eyes full of suspicion. "What was that for?"
"What? Didn't you take the hint?" You slant your mouth over his, linger a little longer this time. "I like you." You kiss him again, again, again.
He snorts, palm falling to the small of your back, big hand heavy on your skin. "Point taken."
He dips his head low, kisses you, soft and slow, fingers flexing against your shirt, dragging you closer when you move to pull back. "I like ya." His breath is hot against your mouth. "Always have."
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toxicanonymity · 4 months ago
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DOMESTICATION
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MR. GHOSTFACE x F!READER 🔪 1.8K WORDS SUMMARY: He has his way with you while you're stuck. WARNINGS: 18+ Noncon, unsafe PIV, knife/blood, collar. Inspired by this scene and ask 🔪 Divider 🔪 MY FICS
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Down on all fours like the prey you were, you tore the cloudy, plastic flap off its hinges and began to squeeze through the little door. You thought to scream but choked on the air you drew in. With your head through the hole, you coughed and glanced around. No one in sight. Fallen leaves tumbled and scraped across the driveway over the muffled sounds of the party.
No one was coming to save you.
You managed to wriggle halfway out, but no further. In the process of trying, your skirt got all bunched up. The cool air of the garage was hitting your ass, and your lace panties with their heart shaped cutout were doing nothing to help.
He had to be enjoying this. Probably admiring his knife with a smug tilt of his mask. Why was he so quiet?
You stopped struggling, taking a moment to catch your breath and think. He should've caught you by now. Was there any chance he left the garage? Any chance he wouldn't kill you?
He didn't have a habit of leaving them alive.
When you began to struggle again, a weak motor droned awake, making your stomach drop. The garage door began to lift, and the bottom edge of it dug into your stomach. Your heart sank with dread. Within seconds you’d likely be dead or mangled. Seconds, IF you were lucky. The thought of him dragging out your demise was even worse. You had seen his crime scenes.
Your knees lifted off the ground as the door made its ascent.
“Please,” you begged, shoes sliding against the floor.
The garage door creaked as it came to a halt. Your feet pedaled in futility, searching for the floor. You lifted your chest, trying to wriggle backwards. The only way out of this cursed little door-–if there even was a way out-–led right to his knife.
“Please, please, I won't run. I'll be good,” you begged through tears.
Silence. Unlike him.
“I'll be good,” you repeated quieter. "Please, Mr. Ghostface."
The motor started again, and you winced. But the door began to lower, allowing you a moment of relief as your bare knees met the cool, smooth floor.
His footsteps got louder and clearer as he crossed the space. Despite being unable to see him, you knew his presence loomed behind you-–you could feel it in your bones.
Sure enough, two gloved hands gripped your thighs, lifting your lower body for a moment and spreading your legs before setting your knees down further apart.
He made a place for himself between your knees, spreading them even wider. The smooth fabric of his robe pooled over your legs with him between them. He ran his gloved hands up your torso from your hips to your waist, pushing your skirt up further so it was up around your navel. Then, two satin thumbs lightly brushed your skin, tracing the heart-shaped cutout of your underwear.
After a moment of rustling behind you, a gloved finger slotted between your panties and ass. He pulled the garment out from your body, then the elastic tension released with a slice of his knife.
More rustling. His movement made the robe graze your butt. You weren't sure if you were imagining the sound of his belt coming undone behind you, but the thought of it made your face heat up.
The heavy fabric of his robe lifted off your calves, removing any doubt about what he was about to do. You tried to ignore the way your pussy throbbed.
The smooth head of his cock nudged your entrance, then slid wetly along your slit, forward and back. You hadn't realized just how aroused you were until feeling cock glide so smoothly against your well lubricated cunt. The head lingered at your front, nudging just the right spot. Your hips tilted all on their own, and he paused before sliding back to your wet little hole, resting the curve of his tip just inside.
He gripped your hips and pushed forward, intruding into your tight, warm sleeve with his thick, hard cock. Inch by inch, his stiff manhood pushed its way into you, the pressure of his girth pushing the breath out of your lungs. He slid all the way in without much difficulty and paused after bottoming out.
You took a much needed breath.
The skin of your chest radiated warmth. Your whole upper body was hot, despite the cool air.
Your lower body was warm and stuffed.
Two big, gloved hands wrapped around your thighs, then lifted. Your body lurched forward as far as it could, then he pulled you back on him, bottoming out deeper before he let your weight back down.
You braced your forearms on the driveway and he moved his hands up to hold your hips. He withdrew most of his length then squeezed your hips and pulled you back again as he slammed all the way back in. This wasn't bad… he was slow, almost careful.
Almost as though he could hear your thoughts, he seemed to drop all restraint. He buried his cock in you at a steadily increasing pace. You were shaken by just how good he felt inside you.
You bit your arm to stifle your moans, but it was no use. He'd have to hear your sounds of pleasure, as humiliating as it was. You removed your mouth from your bicep, leaving a string of spit as you took a deep breath.
As you inhaled the night air, it smelled like someone was having a bonfire... Someone, somewhere had come outside. Maybe even the neighbors.
But you didn't cry for help.
It was as though the cock in your cunt had gagged your throat, paralyzing you. It couldn't be that you didn't want him to stop, could it? No, you told yourself.
With every thrust, it felt more like a lie.
The rhythm of his pounding made your breasts jiggle. Your arms and wrists rubbed against the driveway, but you hardly felt it. Any discomfort was drowned out by the pleasant stretch of his girth, and the grip of your pussy clinging to his length as it pushed through you.
You closed your eyes and went somewhere else, giving into the feel-good chemicals coming to boil in your blood. You couldn’t tell how much of it was the rush of survival and how much was his dick, but the combination had you hurtling toward the stratosphere. Full, you were packed full. God, it felt good. Even better, the more you let yourself feel it.
There was something freeing about completely submitting to his will. Letting him use you like a fucktoy. Giving in, letting him win, you could relax and let it all wash over you. With your body held in his hands and wrapped around his cock, you felt weightless. There was no longer pressure to fight back or flee. The only pressure was low in your gut, building toward something unthinkable. Closer with each heavy stroke.
You spasmed with a whimper.
He abruptly sped up to jackhammer pace, pushing you to the brink within seconds. You rode that edge for longer than you thought anyone could keep up that pace. You remembered to breathe, and then you saw stars. The hair on your neck stood up as you clung to the ethereal force that rippled through your loins. Pleasure shot through your core to each limb.
He slowed down as you clenched around him, then bottomed out deeper. It was like he’d created more space in you and packed it with more cock than you ever thought you'd take.
Until the warmth began to spread inside, you didn't realize he was coming. He had given no outward indication of it. You could hardly distinguish your throbbing from his, until yours faded and he was still twitching.
The grip of his hands eased up as he finished. He held you with your ass flush against his wiry hair, anchoring you. Plugging you.
After a minute, it started to feel colder outside. You felt more exposed, vulnerable, but still dared to imagine he might leave you alive.
One hand let go of you, and his robe shifted, brushing the back of your thigh. He pulled back your ruined underwear again. This time, he cut through the side and took it all the way off. Then, the surprisingly warm flat of his blade pressed against the side of your butt cheek. It slid up over the curve of your flesh.
Your heart pounded, reminding you to fear for your life.
The metal left your skin, only for the point of the blade to then prickle the center of your lower back. He held you still, and his cock twitched inside you as he began to draw blood.
You pleaded, “don't," but your insides throbbed.
A sharp, white heat followed the blade, curving upward, out, and down toward your crack. He repeated it on the other side to complete the heart. Your ears burned and pounded with their own pulse. Your inner ears began to ache.
Finally, his cock slid out of you, and after a moment of jostling, he got out from between your legs. Then, facing your side, his robe grazed your back as he hovered over you and grabbed hold of your waist. He tugged gently. You extended your arms in front of you and held them together as he pulled you back into the garage. warm blood trickled into your crack as you sat up. His gloved thumb smeared it upward.
Clear snot was coming out of your nose. You sniffed and he wiped that too, with a knuckle.
Holding his knife, he showed it to you as he stood up. He crossed the garage in just a few strides while you obediently sat back on your knees, adjusting your bra and fixing your hair.
He returned with his hands full.
Your face fell blank when you looked up to see a collar with a leash hanging off it. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. He tilted his head, then stooped down to reach around your neck and fasten the it. The arms of his robe created a curtain of darkness as he adjusted the buckle and tested the tightness with two fingers between it and your neck.
He stepped back, holding the leash, and tilted his mask, waiting. There was something else in his other hand. He clicked it, then tossed it aside as the garage door began to rise. He reached down and helped you up. Then, he walked you down the driveway and into the night, with a warm mess trickling down your thighs.
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thank you for reading 🖤
and tysm for your comments and asks 🙏the feedback and encouragement really helps me.
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loloslaystheday · 1 year ago
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Spark
pairing: rengoku kyojuro x f!wife!reader
prompt: kyojuro's excited to welcome his little girl into the family, but he never expected the emotions to hit so hard.
note: i was so unsure how to name this and i spent like 30 mins thinking of the pairing😭 im supposed to be sleeping bc i have testing tomorrow but oh well🤷🏾‍♀️
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kyojuro never even thought of getting married. well... he never really even thought about it until he met you,. but to him,marriage was it.
when you asked him about having kids that was the first time he ever thought about it. he didn't really care about carrying on the family name, he had a brother and just cared about being with you.
but he would never deny his wife, who gave him everything he ever asked for, this one thing that she asked for.
he was ecstatic when you came to him with the good news; you were pregnant. he didn’t mind taking care of you at all until you had the baby. whatever you asked for he got, no questions asked.
and when the day finally came to welcome their little bundle of joy into the world, and he saw her face, and he held her in his arms, he didn’t know how hard the moment would hit him. she looked so small compared to him and it choked him up.
before he knew it, tears streamed down his face despite his fond and loving smile.
“she looks just like you.” he sniffs. you smile back at him, grabbing his free hand and squeezing it firmly.
she made small whimpers and shifted a bit. her little nose twitched with the ragged breaths and she couldn’t sit still in his arms.
he looked back up at you now. “thank you.”
you scoffed and rolled your eyes with a small laugh.
“she’s a momma’s girl.” you winked at kyojuro. “think ill be the favorite.”
“well, you are my favorite.”
“ah, so she gets it from you?” he nodded. you laughed, kissing his hand before leaning against it. “i love you.”
“i love you more.”
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goosita · 1 year ago
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Omg could you do the opposite with politician!snow being jealous if someone on the staff takes an interest in secretary! Reader ?!?!
i feel like. he. you know.
there’s no nice way to say it
he’d kill the guy.
like if he hired some new guy around the office like an intern or something and new guy had the nerve to try flirting with you
you, coryo’s sweetheart? his darling?
yeah not happening lmao
i don’t think you would know that coryo just straight up murdered new guy though
the day after coryo sees him trying to flirt with you or even ask you out, he wouldn’t be back in the office
you have an inkling that coryo got rid of him, but you assume he just fired the guy
it does make you kind of giddy that its clearly out of jealously though. i’m not saying its healthy, but there’s something hot about the possessiveness coriolanus has over you
you notice coryo is scowling, tongue pushing at the inside of his lip uncomfortably
“what happened?” you’d ask him. he would immediately plaster on a charming smile
“oh, nothing. just….bit my lip by accident.”
there’s a tiny spot of blood on his plush, pillowy bottom lip. you stare at it for a moment, almost transfixed
and it’s only the two of you in his private office right now
so nobody sees you lean up and kiss him softly, coppery taste teasing at the tip of your tongue when he pulls you closer, kisses you deeper
you don’t really think much of what ever happened to the new guy after that
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hazbingirliexoxo · 9 months ago
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Charlie: Aww come on! It’s just a crush!🥰 Who’s to say that they don’t like you back?😊
Reader: Stop, you’re feeding my delusions and it’s working🙃
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uhohdad · 6 months ago
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Drabble requests?? If you would be so kind to humor me then-
Could there be like... soft and kind könig? Maybe just really gentle and domestic cause a while back i saw someone make headcanons of him being like a really mean guy and like all to them for sure!
But I was having a bit of a bad delusional day and könig is one of my attachments and seeing it made me so so sad and a bit paranoid cause like! Thats my partner! He wouldn't be like that!
So uh. Maybe just really soft comforting könig? If thats ok? Cause despite it being a few days now I still can't shake it and I feel bad over it :( hes such a silly but really good comfort for me. Big Austrian man ♡
Anyway if its no trouble then thank you! If not then its alright! Take care ok? ♡♡♡
for you my sweet beautiful anon? anything. i know könig would treat you like his liege ♡
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
Köni💕: ‘How s work?’
Liebling: ‘:(‘
Köni💕: ‘o no, what happenbed?’
Liebling: ‘nothing. just nervous and weird. per usual lmao. 🙃’
Köni💕: ‘ill make u feel better when u get home’
Liebling: ‘:’)’
The aroma hits like a wave as you push the front door open, your mouth watering and tummy grumbling at the smell alone.
“Meine Prinzessin,” König calls as you set your bags down with a heavy thunk, “Did your day get better?”
“Just now,” You say, palm flush with the wall to support yourself as you kick off your shoes, “Whatever you’re doing in there, it’s art.”
“Your favorite,” he says proudly, a bit of a tune in his tone.
A giddy, mischievous giggle leaves you.
“Comfy clothes on the bed,” He adds.
You give a soft little whine, because it’s just too sickeningly sweet how he dotes on you.
After changed and settled, he’ll serve you your plate, listening intently as you vent about all the little things that have been bothering you lately.
“And, I don’t know. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I can’t-”
You sigh before continuing, “Sometimes I have this stupid voice in my brain, and it just tells me that you don’t actually like me, and I’m just not good enough for you. I know it’s not true, but it still gets to me, sometimes. Y’know?”
You look at him, faced pinched and a hand rubbing the back of your neck.
“I have the same stupid voice,” He says, those hooded blue eyes trained carefully in you, “But know little one, I love you more than anything.”
You pinch your nose at him, but you still have to fold your smile, cheeks warm and bunched.
“I love you more than anything, too,” You say sheepishly to your plate, tone soft as your fork absentmindedly plays with your food.
Once tummies are full and plates cleared away, König herds you to the couch, draping you with a cozy blanket. He fixes you a tea before joining you, happily letting you rest your head on his thigh. He’ll tolerate your silly little comfort movie without complaint, stroking your hair, playing with the soft locks. He doesn’t dare move after you ensnare him by falling asleep, snoring softly into his leg long after your half-drunk tea has gone cold. ♡
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
♡gentle!könig
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