#Angel: too fuckin late!

[corpusdiem-seizethedead]

Husk: I would die for you.

Angel: I would die for you too.

Husk: *suddenly emotional* Please don't do that.

[moremaybank]

CHOCOLATE , jj maybank

── KINKTOBER: PRAISE KINK + SQUIRTING + MIRROR SEX

"all i know is, it rains when it feels right." ─ kiana ledé, chocolate. (remix)

jj maybank x insecure!gf!reader

(18+) praise kink, squirting, fingering, use of a mirror (technically it's partial mirror sex), dirty talk

jj worships you when you’re feeling down (and makes it rain)

KINKTOBER , OBX MASTERLIST

jj's chest was hot against your back, the two of you pressed up skin to skin. you melted into him like chocolate, craving him and the way he took the time to worship you.

lucky for you, jj was always in the mood to do so.

when you had confided in jj and told him you were feeling insecure lately, presumbly because of your upcoming period, he wasted no time crafting a plan with the goal to make you feel better.

there was no way in hell he was gonna let his girl walk around thinking she was anything less than perfect, whether her insecurities were caused by hormones or not.

he'd pulled your body-length mirror closer to the edge of your bed, placed you between his legs, spread you wide open and made you watch as he cherished you with his words and with his magic touch.

"who told you you weren't perfect? huh, baby? 'cause the way you're lookin' right now, 'm pretty sure you're an angel 'n this is heaven.”

his fingers slide into your warm, oozing cunt rhythmically, each punt curling upward to play with that spongy part of you that made your thighs tremble for him. every single press to it forced a pitiful moan to tumble past your parted lips.

"hate seein' you like this, baby..." the ringed knuckles of jj's free hand skimmed up and down anywhere they could reach, drawing imaginary lines on your inner thighs and your stomach. the cool metal ran over your pebbling nipples and pulled goosebumps forth from your flesh. "jus' need me to remind you how perfect you are? hm?"

his chin hooked over your shoulder, and he dotted kiss after kiss on your blood-rushed cheek. turning his head, he found your gaze in the mirror and held it there. the pad of his thumb applied pressure to your clit, rubbing it in time with the work of his fingers. he motioned downward with his chin, urging you to look at your filled pussy in the reflection. "see how that pretty pussy takes my fingers? look at'er go, mama."

you mewl pathetically when he starts to fingerfuck you harder, the heel of his palm now colliding with your clit and making your knees buckle. "feels too good, j," you voiced out the best as you could. you could barely suck in a breath as the freight train that was your high crept up on you. "don't deserve it. don't deserve you."

jj tutted you, shaking his head. "yeah you fuckin' do. deserve the world, mama. fuck, you're so good."

your heat started to clamp down on his fingers, quivering and convulsing helplessly.

"you wanna cum?" jj asked, eyes meeting yours in the mirror once more. your smaller hand circles around his wrist, holding on while he used it to please you. "that sound good, sweetheart?"

"y-yeah. please, j. need it."

"then you gotta say what i tell you to, alright?"

you nodded for him. you had no idea what you were agreeing to, but you didn't care. jj was completely taking over all of you, and you just wanted to be good for him. do anything he asked of you because you seeked his approval so direly.

"tell me how pretty you look with your pussy stuffed."

your stomach did cartwheels and your core fluttered at his vulgarity. gulping, you did as he said. "i-i look pretty with my pussy stuffed."

"yeah...yeah you do, baby. tell me you take it so well when daddy fucks you. tell me how perfect your pussy is for me."

"m-my pussy's perfect. take it so well for you, daddy."

"good. now look yourself in the mirror 'n say you're beautiful," was his next command. his gaze was scorching, his praise electrifying and heart-filling. he'd handcrafted you into his own puppet, or he'd had you hypnotized. either way, the words leaked out of you like a faucet.

"i'm beautiful."

"again...say it again, baby."

"i'm— shit— i'm beautiful!"

his rosy lips found solace in the crook of your neck. he pressed open mouthed kisses before letting his teeth lightly nip and scrape at your pulse point. "so beautiful, mama. deserve to cum real good, yeah? go 'head 'n give it to me."

jj's left hand sought out your breast, pinching your sensitive nipple just how you liked. his fingers were relentless, fucking your sopping cunt into oblivion. you were so far gone that you couldn't speak. the pit in your core was burning ferociously, threatening to take you over completely.

"yeaaah. there ya go." you started to cum, your juices shooting out of you in spurts. his fingers withdrew from you, cum-slicked fingerpads rubbing at your clit almost viciously as he tried to get more out of you. he grinned wickedly when his plan worked, and your pussy continued to squirt for him. the glass was covered and your shared image was distorted, but all you could zone in on was your godsent boyfriend and his ever-so-skilled words. and hands.

"i love you so much, mama. don't ever think you aren't enough."

[buckyalpine]

i feel like bucky definitely gives off like horny teenage vibes but times that by ten. like maybe y/n and bucky finally get together after the whole “will they won’t situation” and the minute bucky sleeps with y/n i feel like since he’s been so touched starved for like 70+ years that he’s like the most insatiable, kinkiest man y/n has ever been with , he’s touchy, he’s needy (in the best way possible) and all of the avengers are like “i’m glad you’re happy bro but put your dick away and get your hands out of your pants” and then he’s like “no”

18+ All the incoming smut. I need a cold shower wtf, this is so hot, is this even allowed? The answer is YES. yes it is. Bucky gives 10000% horny teenage energy and with that serum in his veins?

The will they won't they situation drives Bucky insane because it's gone on for long enough. He's been pining after you, too shy to actually spit it out, taking what he can get in those feeling moments you share. Lingering touches during training. Longing stares across the room. Late night talks where you're both too close to be just friends but you're not quite anything more either.

Bucky airs on the side of caution when it comes to you until he sees another man trying to get your attention from where he's seated at the bar. He's spent enough nights alone with his hand between his legs, tugging and pawing at his cock for some type of relief, surges of jealousy absolutely crush those feelings of shyness he had. By the end of the night, he has you naked in bed and he's ready to take you apart every which way but you're just too fucking pretty and he realizes he needs to be touched more than ever.

Bucky is the neediest baby on the planet, he's greedy, trying to touch every bit of you all at once. He doesn't have time to feel shame, to try and act like this is something he does on the regular. Honestly, he doesn't care that he's practically humping you like a little puppy, his hips rocking against your bare cunt, cock perfectly slotted between your folds.

"It's so fuckin' hard, angel" He moans against your neck, one hand squeezing your waist, the other reaching up you to tug your nipples. "My cock is so fuckin' hard cause of you"

He hasn't felt anything this soft in years and he's putty in your hands. He feels so sensitive all over, letting you push him onto his back so you can kneel between his thighs, your mouth so dangerously close to where he needed you so bad.

"Wait-wai-oh God, fuckkk meee" Bucky's head is thrown back with the deepest groan when you take his flushed tip into your mouth, dribbles of precum wetting your already silky tongue. He nearly shoots when you pull off with a pop and dip down to play with his sac, your warm mouth so much different from his hand.

"Oh my god my balls are so fuckin' heavy, yeah just like that baby, never had em' sucked before, fuck I- m'cumming!" His back arches and he has to careful not to clamp his legs shut as he starts to cum without warning. His hips thrust up against the air and his hands rush down to hold onto your head as he practically rubs his balls against you.

"Let's empty your cock, baby" You coo when his orgasm starts to slow, your hand coming up to wrap around his now semi hard cock. Your slow strokes cause spurts to dribble out and he starts to get harder against your palm.

"Shit, m'getting hard again baby, put it in your pussy, c'mon please angel, wanna feel it, it's been so long" Bucky's always considered himself a dominant man but that was until it came to you. He was definitely going to redeem himself but not tonight. Tonight he was just a needy slut for you and he was going to own every bit of it.

He spreads apart his thighs more for you to see how big and hard he is, not like you didn't know. He's pouting with those flushed cheeks, pupils blown, pawing at your body to get on top.

"Can I suck your boobs, wanna suck em' so bad, fuck-c'mere, put your nipples in my mouth angel, feed me those perfect breasts with my cock in you"

"Ready Jamie?-

"Yeah, yeah please, m'ready I promise, I'll be good, my balls are full again, feel them, please, wanna empty my cock" You hush his needy whines, reaching behind and cupping his sack with a smirk on your face.

"S'full again baby?"

"So full" He nods, his jaw falling slack when you start to sink down on him, chest heaving, how the fuck was he already ready to blow, there was no way-

"FUCKKKK" He cried out, shoving his hips up so he was stuffed all the way, pulling you down and rolling over, giving you sloppy thrusts while cum spilled from his sensitive head.

"Don't even think I came this fast the first time I touched myself" Bucky mumbles against your neck, practically purring while basking in the best post orgasm haze he's ever felt. He loves the smell of raw sex filling the room, your combined arousal the best thing on the planet. He's not ashamed from cumming multiple times, hardly lasting, making such a sticky mess on the bed.

He's too busy getting in all his needy cuddles while you baby him like he deserves, kissing his forehead and rubbing his back, cooing at the way he hugs you extra tight.

But it doesn't stop there.

Bucky is insatiable and after finally getting a taste, he's not going to stop now.

"For fucks sake Barnes" Sam shakes his head seeing Bucky make out with you while your perched on the kitchen island, the sight sort of wholesome except he can see the way the soldier is slotted between your thighs. Your legs wrap around him and Bucky's hips are rutting against your core, shamelessly trying to hump you, barely muffled groans slipping past his lips. If rubbing his dick on you was all he could get, then he'd fuckin' take it without a question.

It wouldn't be the first time.

You'd been caught more than once in the middle of missions. Bucky knew he was down bad when he was injured once and forced to just keep surveillance over a mission you were leading. He was watching everything on a large screen, lasting all of 5 minutes watching you in combat unless he couldn't handle the ache between his legs anymore. At first he hid what he was doing pretty well.

Then you sliced someone's neck and-

"Oh fuck me!"

"You better be shot, stabbed or missing an eyeball" Sam hissed through the coms while Tony's cackled crackled through, everyone's frequency synced to keep in contact.

"Sounds like he's the one whose about to shoot-

"FUCK BOTH OF YOU"

"MMPH" Bucky didn't bother responding, continuing to jerk his cock off while watching his gorgeous girlfriend.

"I know you're happy with y/n, and I'm happy for you both, trust me, but for the love of God can you please get your hand out of your pants?!"

The muffled groan that follows has Sam contemplating letting his wings fall off mid flight. Steve nearly gets stabbed with how distracted he is.

-

"Does Barnes every put his dick away?" Clint snorts hearing the muffled sounds of the bed hitting the wall from Bucky's room and seeing as you're nowhere to be found, it's clear what's happening.

"No. No he does not"

[multi-fandom-imagine]

I was wondering if you could write Stanley doing things to the reader (freaky things 😈) in the back of El Diablo (his car) because ik in my heart that he would and if he and the reader could already be in an established relationship that would be great too like a “trying to rekindle our flame but the kids are in the house and we don’t want to scar them” type of plot. anyway, I love your content 🫶🏾 have a good night /day

A/n: hehehe

Warnings: Fingering, humping, fucking in Stan's shitty car on the side of the road, dirty talk, age gap { reader can be in late 20's - late 30's }

Your face was pressed tightly into Stan's neck, your fingers clutching his shirt as you grounded your hips against his knee, his hand guiding you. You mind fogged as you mentally thanked Stan for pulling his shitty car on the side of the road near the woods since the last thing on your mind was someone catching you two.

A deep chuckle escaping the man's lips, glasses nearly slipping off the bridge of his nose as he watched you.“Fuck, Angel." Stan breathes out as his eyes darkened with desire. He could feel your panties dampen on his knee. His hand slipping under your skirt, grasping your panties he tugged them down in one quick motion.

"Stan...just fucking touch me already. Don't tell me your age is catching up with you." You teased.

“Fucking hell, you're a little minx aren't you,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky with need as the smirk remained on his lips “though I can I deny you" Stan bit back a swear as he fixed the car seat, spreading his legs to be better positioned between your legs, his fingers teasingly trailing along your inner thighs before finally slipping between your slick folds. He starts to rub slow circles against your clit, his touch nearly sending you over the edge.

“You’re so wet for me, Angel,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “You’re always ready for my touch, aren’t you? So fuckin needy." His fingers slide lower, pressing against your entrance and slowly easing inside you, curling and stroking in just the right way to make you tremble with pleasure.

Stan watches you intently, his eyes filled with hunger as he guides you towards the edge of bliss. “Ride my fingers, baby,” he urges, his voice a low growl. “Let me get you ready for what’s to come.”

"Stanley." Your voice sharp as your hips jerked, nails digging into his shoulders. Tremors leaving your body as your orgasm hit you.

God he loved when you called out his name, to think, a sexy woman like yourself calling out his name. It was the hottest thing.

Stan smirks as he watches you unravel in pleasure, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers still buried deep inside you as he revels in the way you cling to him.

“Such a good girl, Angel,” he murmurs, his tone laced with satisfaction. “But don’t worry, baby,I got you.” With a swift motion, he withdraws his fingers from your dripping core, a low groan escaping his lips at the loss, he couldn't wait to feel you wrapped around his cock.

Without hesitation, Stan lifted his hips up, quickly pushing his pants and boxers down to reveal his thick, pulsing cock. He positions himself between your legs once more, the head of his length teasing your entrance.

“Gonna rock this car, no one is gonna know that I'm fuckin ya” he taunts, his eyes locked with yours as he slowly pushes into you, inch by inch. The sensation of being completely filled by him sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure.

Stan begins to move, his thrusts steady and deep, each one driving you closer to the edge once again. “You’re mine, Angel,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips firmly. “And I’m gonna give you everything you need.”

He had to bite back a groan as he felt your tight walls clenching around him, the sensation driving him wild with desire. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he continues to thrust deeply into you, his movements becoming more urgent and primal.

He couldn't even register the fact that his car was shaking with each of his thrusts.

“Fuck, Angel,” he breathes out, his voice strained with pleasure. “You feel so good, so tight around me.” Stan buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent as he sets a relentless pace, each thrust pushing you both closer to the edge.

His hands roam over your body, finding all the right places to touch and tease. He nibbles at your neck and collarbone, leaving marks of possession as he claims you as his own.

“You’re mine, Angel,” he growls, his voice husky with need. “All mine. Nobody else can make you feel like this, can they?” Stan's thrusts become more erratic, his hips driving into you with a primal intensity as he chases his own release, determined to bring you to the peak of ecstasy once again.

Your whimpers only fuel his passion, spurring him on to take you higher and higher.

"You feel so good, so tight around me.”

With a guttural groan, Stan picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. He can feel the coil of pleasure tightening in his belly, signaling that he’s nearing the edge. “I’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he grunts, his hips snapping against yours. “You’re mine, all mine.”

With one final, powerful thrust, Stan finds his release, spilling himself deep inside you as he claims you as his own.The creaking sound of the car slowing to a stop, windows fogged as he felt his dick still twitching within you.

The heat of your bodies mingling in a passionate embrace. He holds you close, his heart racing as he revels in the intimacy of the moment.

“Fuck, Angel, you’re amazing,” he gasps as he did his best to catch his breath. His heart was pounding in his chest as a little giggle escaped your lips as you placed a lazy kiss to his lip.

Breathless and satisfied, he holds you close, pressing soft kisses to your skin as he catches his breath. “You’re so perfect, Angel,” he whispers, his voice filled with adoration. “I’ll always take care of you, make you feel this good.”

Humming, still clinging to the man you cupped his cheeks drawing him in for another kiss. "And I'll take care of you to Stan...I love you."

"I don't get how someone as wonderful as you could ever love me, but I sure as hell ain't letting you go, I love ya far too much."

[joelsdagger]

intermission || joel miller x f!reader

shout out to @dinandwhiskey for feeding into my delusions for this one and to @skrunkly-scrimblo for the beta <33

pairing: daddy dom!joel miller x f!reader summary: movie night with joel doesn’t go to plan, or joel fucks your mouth while you’re sleeping. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ rating: 18+ MDNI warnings: [No Outbreak], established relationship, age gap [reader is 24, joel is late 50’s] , dd/lg dynamics, daddy kink, somnophilia [no explicit consent in this fic but she’s cool with it, therefore dubcon], oral [m receiving], face fucking, deepthroating, finger sucking, praise kink, pet names [little bug, little angel, baby, the works lol], references to tummy bulge, references to unprotected p in v sex, mentions of creampies, cum eating, reader can be carried [tho in my mind joel is huuuuuge so size kink as well], Joel’s POV. word count: 2.3k a/n: happy father’s day (iykyk) :3

series masterlist | masterlist | ao3 | playlist

dividers by @saradika-graphics

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. 

I don’t fall asleep during movies, daddy, you had sassed him. 

Whatever you say, little bug. 

That was an hour ago and now you’re resting your pretty little head against his belly, your hand tucked beneath your head. You look so peaceful. So pretty. So soft. So – pliant. 

He really shouldn’t. 

But then your hand slips from under your head and falls to rest a hair's breadth away from his clothed cock, it jumps in his sweats. You’ve practically pavloved him to react like that with just a mere graze of your fingertips. 

“You got no idea what you do to me, sweet girl, drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy over here,” his voice a low rasp, reaching for your fingers and gently pulling them from his lap, squeezing your fingertips twice before resting them atop his thigh. 

You’re completely limp, deep in your sleep and Joel is unable to control himself.

He snatches up the remote, hastily turns down the TV, shoves his gray sweats down to the middle of his thighs and frees his semi-hard cock. He wraps a hand around the base, gives it a firm tug, and rests the tip of his length on your lips.

He stills and swallows hard. He shouldn’t do this. He can’t do this, it feels selfish to take what he’s been desperately wanting from you — for the better part of an hour — when you’re unable to respond. He should wake you. 

But then, almost as if you’ve made the decision for him; your lips part and a soft moan releases from you, mmm, daddy. His cock twitches against your lips, opaque droplets already gathering at the slit. Your lips stay parted and the glistening tip slips between your plush lips. 

“Fuck– ” He groans at the sensation, eyes rolling back into his head, hand flying up to the back of yours, cradling your skull in an attempt to anchor himself as he slowly rolls his hips up into you. He stiffens fully at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth around him. It feels fucking incredible. 

How the hell did he get here? A rare lazy sunday night with you on his lap, taking a man almost three times your age in between your lips, letting him use you in your sleep. 

He remembers first laying eyes on you. You showed up on his porch one night, not too long ago, with sparkling eyes and a shy smile on your face. He didn’t even hear what you had said to him, too distracted by the soft skin of your exposed thighs just below the hem of your pale pink dress — barely covering the plump shape of your ass — and the flow of your hair as a wave of muggy summer heat swept past. He thinks it was something about the leftover cake from your birthday. He only guessed that from the sad, fat square slice of funfetti birthday cake held up in a flimsy paper plate before him, the letters jaggedly cut down the middle of the celebratory phrase.

Joel is a strong man; at least that’s what he tells himself. He knew you were too young for him. The split letters that barely spelled out twenty-four on your birthday cake told him as much. Trouble, he’d muttered. He still mumbles that occasionally when you push his buttons, though hours later, he often finds himself burying his length deep inside of you, tears pricking your eyes while he stretches your needy cunt.

But then you glanced up at him with wide, curious eyes and flashed him a big, toothy smile — the prettiest little thing he’s seen in all his long, hard years — and he cracked; his cement walls came crumbling down. He brought you inside his home, into his too-small bed, and fucked you until you cried, until you asked him for a break only to climb on top of him minutes later, begging him to feed you his cock again.

His cock pulses on your tongue at the memory, your voice high-pitched as you cried, Daddy, please, I want it. And Joel couldn’t resist his special girl. How could he? When you softly gasped into his mouth as he pushed the blunt head of his cock past your puffy folds — nuzzling in and making a home for himself — where he belongs. Your warm, drooling cunt sucking him in to the hilt, sheathing the entirety of his hard length inside your messy little pussy. 

Joel is a strong man, but not when it comes to you. 

Please, please, I need to feel it inside me. All the way up here, daddy, you whined, one hand gliding up your belly, the other fisting the fabric of your lace-trimmed dress. He just couldn’t resist you. So he fucked you and fucked you deep, until he was in the soft pouch of your tummy and poking through from the other side, just as you had asked of him. He fucked you full of his spend, until your poor, tiny hole couldn’t take any more of his cum. 

He’d damn himself to hell before he’d refuse you. He only hopes you don’t deny him if you wake. 

His deft, roughened fingers brush the hair out of your face before settling his hand back on your head. He sits up and leans over; marveling at the stretch of your lips around him, sweat beginning to pool at the nape of his neck and the corners of his temples. 

He feels filthy. A dirty old man. He’s never taken you like this before. But it doesn’t feel wrong. He’s only missing those pretty sounds you make —

You stir and let out a soft moan around him. Sweet Jesus, there you go. Your head dips lower down his belly, nestling more of his length into your hot mouth. Atta fuckin’ girl. Let me in, baby. Open up real big for daddy. 

“Such a naughty little thing, lettin’ me fuck your throat while you’re sleepin’, just needed to be full o’me huh?” He whispers softly, and at that, you hum. Joel can’t help when he bucks up into your mouth in response, saliva pouring past your lips and onto his graying pubic hair. 

“Fuck, baby, you like gettin’ daddy all messy? Like chokin’ on daddy’s big cock?” He taunts, a grin tugging on his face. 

Once again, as if you can hear him, you hum. 

You’re so damn responsive. Or maybe you just like having his dick in your mouth.  

“Fuck, yeah, you do,” he pants, his voice strained with restraint. His free hand glides down to the swell of your ass — the softest skin he thinks he’s ever felt — and hikes up the frilly hem of those pink sleep shorts that he likes a little too much — the ones speckled with tiny red hearts — over one cheek, grabs a handful of your plush flesh, and squeezes. You moan, and Joel feels your tongue twitch, feather-like, beneath the heavy weight of his cock, then pressing up against the thick, pulsing vein on the underside of his shaft. He bites down on his lip to muffle the loud moan that sneaks past his lips, the back of his head hitting the couch behind him. 

“Goddamnit, takin’ me so damn well, even in your sleep, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he babbles, his eyes shut tight as he revels in the feeling of himself in your mouth, the action movie silently playing on the screen flashes against his eyelids, measured shaky breaths escaping him. The strong hand on your head easing you lower and lower to take more of him, your lips now grazing the drool drenched hair at his base.  

Your mouth feels like velvet around him — warm and soft and so perfect that his hips cant upwards unconsciously, the pace of his thrusts increasing. He’s losing himself in the haze of his fast-approaching release, a deep-seated tension building in his gut, teetering on the edge until—

You splutter around him and Joel’s head snaps up to peer down at you, your eyelids flutter open against the soft glow of the television.

“Shit, baby. ‘M sorry,” he rasps and quickly retracts his hand from your head. Yet, you don’t pull yourself off him, instead you curl your weak fingers into his thigh. You don’t want him to stop. 

“You want me to keep going?” He asks gruffly, he knows you can take him, you’ve done it countless times since you have met. He’s trained you well. Yet, he needs to be certain he’s not reaching your limit. 

You drag your lips off his cock, an obscene wet slurping sound fills the too still air, letting off him with a pop and maneuvering yourself to sit up on your knees. “Yes, please daddy,” your voice still thick with sleep, peering up at him with an innocence to your needy gaze; a mixture of drool and precum coating your pouty lips. 

“Christ,” he mutters, under his breath. Such a pretty fuckin’ sight. One he reckons he’ll never get tired of seeing. He can’t deny you. Not when you look at him like that. 

“Okay, baby, here,” he murmurs, his hand retakes its place on the back of your head, guiding you toward his aching cock, your lips latch onto the fat head — all angry and red — and he inhales a shuddery breath as he watches your face contort at the stretch of him in your mouth. 

Your tongue flattens underneath him and he presses himself deeper into your willing mouth, filling you up and messaging the walls of your throat with the wide head of his cock. 

His grip in your hair tightens and a low groan rumbles in his throat, “There you go, baby, hold still.”  

Fucking hell. He could keep you here forever. 

“So goddamn pretty like this, baby,” Joel grits, “Love havin’ your mouth stuffed full o’ my cock, huh?” 

You make a low muffled sound around the length of his cock.

“S’right, you do,” he answers for you.  

His free hand trails down the length of your body, instinctively gripping the meat of your ass, dull fingernails digging into your skin, just barely grazing your puckered hole. You whine around him, the vibrations from your throat has him flexing his fingers your hair in response, and with shallow, quick thrusts of his hips, he fucks himself into your mouth. 

Fresh tears begin to sprout in your eyes as you gulp hard, your throat constricting around him. Joel feels his throbbing tip choked tight at the small opening at the back of your throat. The warm walls of your throat so tight — so good for him — the muscles in his belly tighten, and the hand on your ass is quick to join the other on your head, gripping your skull. “Shit— that’s it, angel. M’comin’.” His dick pulsates on your tongue, and a loud, guttural groan spills from him as hot, thick spurts of his cum coat your throat. His hand holds you there, firmly pressing your mouth flush to his spit-smeared balls. He feels you swallow around him again, and he whines quietly. The muscles in his jaw go slack, and his head falls back onto the couch while he lazily thrusts upwards, his leaking head bruising the back of your throat as he empties the last of himself into your mouth and filling your belly, his chest heaving from exertion.

He lifts his head when he feels you pull off him; you cough softly against him, the warmth of your breath brushes against his now softening cock, and his hooded gaze meets the sight of a thin string of saliva and cum dribbling from your wet, puffy lips, tears dripping from the corner of your eyes and down your cheeks. “Oh, c’mere, little bug, lemme see.” 

Just as he taught you, you plant a small, wet kiss on each of his heavy balls. Joel sighs through his nostrils. Fuck. What did he do to deserve you? You’re too good for him. You scoot over to sit up in his lap. Joel feels the slick between your legs through your tiny shorts when you press against his soft cock. He lets out a little groan; if he hadn’t just come, he’d be getting hard at the sensation.

His hand reaches to grip your jaw, angling your face up as you present him with your open mouth, the corners of his lips twitch at the sight of the walls of your little throat; empty, swollen, and used. 

“My filthy girl, you did so good f’me,” he cooes, coaxing away your tears and swiping your glistening lips clean. He pushes the pad of his thumb — covered in slobber and cum — into your mouth and presses it onto your tongue. Your wet eyes lock with his as you enthusiastically suck his thumb clean. 

Man alive. Maybe you’ll damn him to hell.

You release his thumb and giggle, biting your lip and smiling up at him dreamily. “Thank you, daddy, I liked it,” you rasp quietly. 

“Yeah?” He breathes, both of his hands on either side of your face, thumbs stroking your wet cheeks. 

Your wide, glassy eyes meet his gaze, “I like when you do things that make you feel good, it makes me feel good,” your voice hoarse and small, fingers toying with the collar of his t-shirt.

“Well – you always make daddy feel good, little angel,” he praises, leaning forward to lay a long kiss to your forehead that elicits a breathy sigh from you, your eyelids fluttering closed. 

“You tired, baby?” He whispers, tucking your soft hair behind your ear, fingers stroking down your hair and twirling the end of the gathered strands between his fingers.   

You yawn quietly and give him a slow, small nod, a sleepy smile to your face as you sink down in his lap, your weeping cunt throbbing against him. He’ll play with your perfect little pussy in the morning. Maybe your other little hole too. 

He chuckles at that. “Alright, little bug...” he starts, tucking his soft cock back into his sweats. He scoops you up into his arms; his weak, achy knees pop, and a low grunt spills from him as he stands, “Bedtime.”

[jellinuy]

trapezing the line between a good nap and staying awake, laid atop your boyfriend's chest, curled up in his t-shirt with droopy eyes — that was your picture-perfect setting. it's late afternoon, the blue of the sky bleeding into pink and orange giving the living room that oddly-nostalgic ‘early evening’ glow. satoru, pretty ocean eyes focused on the top of your head and the visibility of drool through your slightly-parted lips, rambles on about something — or maybe it's nothing; he loves to hear himself talk. your body is too lead-heavy to care, anyway.

“…’nd you're so pretty," he murmurs against your hair, voice fuzzy, soft kisses punctuating just how much his sweet nothings really meant something. “i don't mean jus’… pretty, i mean like out-of-this-world, baby.” another kiss. “every star in the world could come out all at once” — another kiss — “and none'd be half as gorgeous, 'm so serious.”

he'd only really soften like this when you were asleep and he was sure you couldn't hear him.

“how’d a bastard like me end up with an angel like you, huh?”

satoru would tell you all the things he normally couldn't say when you were conscious — at least, not without hiding it behind some stupid joke or unserious comment or goofy smile.

“i’m so shitty at playin’ it cool,” he chuckled, fingers slipping under your back, tracing his love for you into the skin curled around your spine. “i dunno how you haven’t caught on yet, pretty girl. i’m a fuckin’ mess when it comes to you.”

these were things he could say raw and unfiltered and without having to worry about defacing them with humor and brushing it under the rug. it was easier to tell you while you were asleep. you couldn’t proved he’d ever waxed poetic to you, because, 1.) nobody would ever believe you, and 2.) he’d just blame it on your grogginess and never bring it up again.

you stir at the familiar tingles that shoot up your vertebrae, lashes still resting against the sun-coated apples of your cheeks when you hum, “mm?” so sweetly, because you thought you’d heard him say something. satoru’s body melts into a puddle: “nothin’, baby.” lithe, gentle fingers swirl from your spine, back over your shirt, and across your scalp to lull you back into your nap, hoping you couldn't hear the bass drum that had replaced his heart when you'd woken up.

he kissed your head. drank you in in a way he could never even verbalize if he tried. “nothing,” he repeated. another kiss. “go back to sleep.”

[yawnderu]

ANGEL — Simon Riley x Reader

cw: toxic situationship, emotionally unavailable Simon, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Simon is canonically in his late 30s).

wc: 2,027 | Part II

“Shh, shh.” Simon can feel his heartstrings being forcefully pulled, the image of you crying, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cling to him for dear life, your fingers gripping his black hoodie.

“S'okay. I can introduce you to some o' my mates.” The look of exasperation you shoot his way is enough to make him try to hold back his laughter, knowing it's not appropriate. Part of him feels bad, but the other part defends itself by telling him he warned you.

Simon Riley doesn't do love. He doesn't do feelings— he's a dog, too tainted and dirty for someone like you, too doomed. He doesn't deserve you, and yet he can't stop crawling back to you despite the heartbreak he sees in your pretty eyes the moment tells you he has to leave.

“I don't want 'em.” His attention is dragged back to you, the whiny tone making his gaze soften despite himself.

“Can you just... fuck me like you love me? I don't care if it's fake, I just...” Another choked sob escapes your lips, soft fingers tightening their hold on the fabric of his hoodie. Simon doesn't say anything— there's nothing he can say to make it better for you. The one condition to your situationship was broken, yet he couldn't find it in himself to abandon you, not when you look up at him like a lost, needy puppy.

“Y'can pretend it's love...” He offers, his tone lacking any mirth or empathy, not when his lips are busy going down your neck, trying his best not to leave any marks or be too rough with you, fighting his own nature for your sake.

His scarred, pink lips travel down your bare body with a gentleness meant to soften the blow of his emotional unavailability, trying his best to counter the heartbreak, secretly hoping that he can slowly mend your broken heart.

“I'll be nice to ya.” His hot breath hits your bare stomach, making your muscles tense up at the sensation, an unwilling shiver running up your spine at the tenderness of his words and actions, something he never showed you when he used to fuck you.

“Treat you like the proper angel y'are.” Simon's guilt is pushed to the back of his mind the moment his lips plant against your clothed mound, his calloused hand going up to your stomach to gently push you down the moment your back arches, wanting to keep you nice and still for him. To take care of your needs, for once.

Simon is a patient man. A patient man, who runs his warm, wet tongue over your clothed cunt, paying especial attention to your hardened clit, only making the knot in your stomach tighten by the second, fingers lacing on his short blond hair, pulling him closer. The display of pure neediness makes Simon's lips tilt up into a small, soft smile despite himself.

His hands explore your soft legs, squeezing softly every once in a while just to reassure you that he's still there. That he's not going away for once. He can feel your muscles twitch beneath his palm, almost mirroring his neglected, throbbing cock.

Simon's warm hands sneak to the back of your thighs, subtly feeling up your ass with the pads of his fingers, slowly sinking into the fat and muscle before he's pulling your legs up, soft kisses planted on your pretty inner thighs, even going as far as to give them gentle love bites, knowing you don't care if he leaves marks— not when your slick is seeping through the fabric of your panties, ready as ever.

“Needy fuckin' girl.” His touch is as gentle as it could be for someone whose hands are used to responding with violence and aggression, sneaking up to the waistband of your panties, pulling down enough to reveal your glistening cunt, not minding how the black cloth was left neglected, hanging on your ankle.

Just like a man starved, Simon's wet tongue darts out of his mouth to give a long, sensual lick against your folds, savoring the taste of your slickness. His rough hands grip your hips to steady you, no longer minding the way your back arches from the pure pleasure he's giving you. He takes a second to admire the sight in front of him, his hot breath fanning against your cunt.

“Good girl.” His skilled, hungry tongue delves between your folds, lapping at your wetness with a need that matches your own. He explores every single inch of your pussy, his tongue flickering and swirling over your hard, swollen clit. His free hand reaches up to fondle one of your tits, his fingers digging into the fat as he devours you.

Simon's hips rock softly against the mattress, looking for any sort of possible relief for his hard, throbbing cock, neglecting it until he can't handle it, hesitantly letting go of your sweet cunt, crawling on top of you and caging you in with his strong, muscular arms. Your soft hand goes to his tattooed arm out of pure muscle memory, earning you a small smirk back.

“You want it, angel? This fat fuckin' cock inside you?” His hips jerk involuntarily, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels the familiar heat pooling in his abdomen, his hand going down to his zipper out of habit, lowering it just enough to pull out his cock— until he realizes that he promised to make love to you, not to fuck.

With slight hesitation in his movements, Simon gets up from the bed, brown eyes watching your reaction with such focus you'd think he's a predator ready to pounce on its prey... and in a way, he is.

His chest rises and falls heavily as he starts to discard his clothes until he's completely bare and vulnerable, something he's never done before for anyone. The way your gaze softens as your eyes examine his scars almost makes him want to put his clothes back on— to leave and to never come back. Simon doesn't deserve your empathy, not when he keeps making you cry, yet he swallows his discomfort back down, his body resting on top of yours, lifting himself up with his arms.

“Y'always take me so well, don't you?” Simon teases in a whisper, his breath hot against your ear. The sound of your wetness mingling with his leaking tip fills the room, dragging a small whine out of you as he teases your entrance for a few seconds, his eyes on yours the moment he sinks into you, giving you time to get used to his thickness before starting to push in deeper, a low groan leaving his lips the moment he hits your sensitive, spongy cervix.

Simon leans down, his lips pressing against yours as he starts to thrust into your needy, sopping cunt, every single inch of him stretching you out like you were made for him. A small shiver runs down his spine when your hand goes up and down his back, caressing the scars from the torture he suffered at the hands of Roba. He pushes the bitter sensation away, putting his entire focus on the feeling of your tongue wrapping around his, tiny strings of saliva staining the corners of your soft lips.

He pulls you closer, his grip possessive yet still so gentle and tender, his touch becoming more intimate. Simon buries his face on the crook of your neck, open-mouthed kisses planted all over your soft, warm skin.

“Y'like this, princess?” He rolls his hips against yours, pushing himself as deep as possible into your pussy.

“Bet my mates could fuck you better.” Simon silences your protests with a quick kiss, thrusting faster into you just so you become willing to hear him out.

“Could treat ya better, too.” His forehead leans against yours, staring deep into the pleading look you're giving him, silently begging him to stop talking about it— to love you, begging for something he can't give you even if he were to force himself.

“My captain's a good man. Y'like older men, don't ya?” His breath is hot against your cheek, his eyes finally screwing shot as your cunt tightens around him at the mention of Price, a low, deep groan making its way out of his throat.

“'Course you do.” He says with a small chuckle, planting tender kisses all over your cheeks, feeling your breath against his face as more whiny, needy moans leave your lips, your velvety walls tightening around his hard cock.

Simon's back bends slightly as he rests his cheek against your chest, your fast-beating heart giving him a slight sense of comfort he's never found anywhere else. His thrusts grow more desperate— faster and deeper, feeling your tits vibrate with each loud moan you're letting out, pretty legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

“My pretty girl.” Even if he's just playing pretend, the words coming out of Simon's lips feel right, his thumb massaging your cheek while he admires you from beneath him, looking just like an angel. Part of Simon pities you, knowing that he'll never be able to love you back, but he can keep pretending for as long as you need.

The knot in your stomach starts to slowly come undone with every single thrust, feeling his meaty cock throb inside you. Your head leans back against the pillow, pretty eyes closing as you allow the illusion of love to set in— to imagine what it's like to be loved by someone like Simon, to get fucked like this daily, with such tenderness and care.

Simon can feel your walls gripping him harder, only encouraging him to slam his hips against yours the way he knows you love it, the upwards curve on his veiny cock allowing him to hit your spongy cervix over and over, low groans and loud pants escaping his lips. His grip tightens around your waist, fingers digging into the skin as he gets closer to the edge, his heavy balls tightening.

Simon lets out a shaky breath as you hold him closer to your sweaty body by the waist, the arch of your back allowing both of your hearts to be against the other's, both beating wildly with the heat of the moment. His face goes back to the crook of your neck as he lets out a loud, throaty moan as he spills his hot cum into you, riding out your orgasms, feeling your tight cunt grip him like vice.

He waits a few seconds before slowly pulling out of you, cupping your cheek just to have those pretty eyes look up at him with nothing but pure trust and love— so lovely, so pure, so untainted, unlike him. He lays down next to you, wrapping his burly arms around you and bringing your exhausted body against his, cuddling you up.

He plants gentle kisses all over your pretty face, basking in the afterglow of the intense love-making, admiring you like you're a piece of art... and truly, in Simon's eyes, you are. His phone vibrates against your bedside table, reaching out for it and letting out a small sigh at the message. Duty calls, and unfortunately, Simon can't get out of a deployment, even when part of his heart stays with you.

“My mates need me for a mission.” He says softly, planting one last kiss on your forehead before getting up from bed, putting his military-provided clothes back on. He stares at the sticky notes on your desk, giving you a small glance before leaning down and writing something on it, ripping the paper away from the rest and putting it down on your bedside table so you won't forget.

“'S my captain's number. Give 'im a call, yeah? He'll answer.” He promises, not daring to leave until you give him a small nod in confirmation, shooting you one last glance before leaving your room, the entrance door slamming shut soon after.

Your already teary eyes stare at the number written down on the sticky note, looking more enticing by the second.

John Price.

[starkeyisthelastname]

Dealer!Rafe who makes it up to you after a busy week 👅💵

He had busy all week, coming home at late hours and constantly talking on the phone to whoever. You had only recently just moved into his place and this was the first time you got to see how much he worked. Did a drug dealer really do all this? Sometimes you couldn’t help but to feel a little deprived, and didn’t want to complain to Rafe about it as he did so much for you already.

He was on the phone one afternoon with Barry, talking about some new business venture he wanted to go on. From where he stood on the balcony, he could see you inside the room. You looked like a fucking angel in that little white slip dress, in his bed of all places. He had been so busy lately, that he barely had time to do anything. One of those things being, spend time with you. He knew you felt deprived, shit he did too and as his blue eyes raked up to your face and saw you averting your gaze with a pout, he knew he had to do something.

He got off the phone with Barry, walking back into the master bedroom and towards where you sat on the bed. “What’s going on mama? Why you poutin’ for? Too fucking pretty for that shit.” He told you, large hand tilting your chin up. He studied your face for a second, watching as you bit your lower lip in hesitation and averted your eyes down.

“J-just miss you.” You mumbled quietly, feeling his thumb come to graze your bottom lip as you let it go. You looked back up at him, his striking eyes flashing a hint of possession while he put his free hand on your ankle. “I’ve missed you too gorgeous. Let daddy make it up to you, yeah?” He asked, watching you nod against his digit.

He was sure it hadn’t been that long since he had last been inside you. The way you were squeezing his dick though while he pushed himself your warm hole, had him thinking it had been weeks. “Fuck… this what you need baby?” Rafe asked, watching your eyes roll back a little and your manicured hands come to rest on his abs.

It had only been about a week, and somehow that made you forget how big he was. He stretched you open so perfectly, your pretty pussy wrapping around his thickness as he began to move his hips. You let out a whine, your tummy fluttering the deeper he started to thrust to make you both feel good. “Daddy.. fuck me.” You moaned, already wanting more now that you had it again.

Adjusting your legs to be on his broad shoulders, he placed his hands on either side of the mattress and pulled out of your leaking hole. It was when he slammed back in one go, did you let out a gasp and feel your toes curl. His expensive chain began dangling in your face, glistening in the light as he began pounding into you. “You like that shit, don’t you? Just needed daddy’s big dick to fill this pretty pussy up.” His voice only making you more turned on.

You wanted to be embarrassed that you already felt your orgasm coming on. His dick was too good though and he hit your spot right every time. He of course was the sexiest man you had ever seen with that fresh buzz, muscled body and drink that could make you go dumb. You could hear the sounds of your ocean the more he drove his hips into yours, your breath quickening the harder he went. “Y- you’re gonna make me cum daddy..” Your voice barely speaks out before you are clenching and creaming around him with a loud beautiful moan.

He was trying to keep his ego in check and not bust this quick. But the way you looked so pretty making a mess, taking his dick so well and crying out for him, had his own eyes rolling back. “Here it comes mama, daddy’s gonna nut all up inside your pretty fuckin’ self.” He grunted, a few more thrusts to your gut before you felt the warmth of his seed painting your insides white.

It was after you got freshly fucked, that the pout had left your lips and was replaced with a smile as Rafe had asked if you wanted to go shopping. Of course he was gonna spoil you, you deserved it after being so goddamn beautiful and taking his impressive pipe because you had missed him.

[kbwrites]

JJK Guys and Pet Names for their S/O

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji

⚝tags: f!reader (use of "babygirl" and "princess"), slightly suggestive, mild language,

Satoru Gojo: Babe, Pretty, Sweets, Pookie

- “Baaaabe, please can we try it? Just once and I swear I won’t ask again!”

- “Hey pretty, transferring you some money right now! Why? Why not?”

- “But sweets! It’s our 14th month anniversary of course we’re going on vacation. I already told your boss to give you off.” 

- ”Pookie don’t be mad! I didn’t know that cake in the fridge was yours. No I didn’t see your name on the box…”

Kento Nanami: Honey, Love, Dear

- ”Hello honey, I’m picking up dinner. Would you like your usual?”

- ”Good Morning love, please make sure to take your vitamins. I left them on the nightstand.”

- ”Yes dear, of course, I’ll marry you. I’m pretty sure we already are, but I’ll do it again for you.”

Suguru Geto: Angel, Baby, Princess

- ”Angel could you please put my hair up for me? Only looks nice when you do it.”

- ”That dress was fucking made for you baby, do me a favor and buy 3 more. You still have my card right?”

- ”I’m sorry I came home late princess, let me make it up to you?”

Toji Fushiguro - Doll, Mama, Baby Girl, Sweetheart

- ”Hey doll, just got paid. How about I take you out tonight?”

- ”Y’alright mama? I wasn’t too rough was I?”

- ”Didn’t mean to worry you, baby girl, m’alright I swear.”

- ”Sweetheart… d’ya really think you could walk around with those fuckin’ shorts on and get away with it?”

[splataii]

toji x male reader

cw: dom male character, sub male reader,

wc 1.5k

freeloader toji who likes to pop in at your place n take a load off whenever he’s in the mood.

no text, no call, no nothing. just him showing up to sleep on your bed, watching his shitty tv shows on your couch after draining your fridge for everything it's worth.

you don't get no chance to say no cause he's way too busy telling you just what an absolute angel you are as he slips through your door. you won't even know he's there, promise. but it’s hard for him to keep such a promise when he’s such a terrible roommate.

he walks around half naked like he owns the place, sweatpants falling so low around his waist that his dick threatens to fall out with every step he takes..

when he feels like being more annoying than usual, he hangs around you, leaning against doorways and faking a yawn or two to stretch so you can catch the outline of his dick, and the way his body flexes.

it makes it hard to look him in the eyes when you're telling him to pull his own weight for the millionth time that week, and he knows it.

“you got a staring problem or what?” he teases, following the way your eyes trace down to the dick print in his loose grey track pants. guys like you are just way too fuckin easy. too flustered to finish, you let him off with a simple warning before leaving him be. but what he really wants is to force ya to quit talking his ear off by getting you on your knees and shoving his cock down your throat. maybe then he could finally put that mouth a yours to good use.

toji also gets so heated about the smallest things, moving you out the way so he can be the one to answer the door to all your one night stands and potential future boyfriends. taking way too much pleasure in how they shrink in on themselves when he sizes them up from the doorway, being terribly sweeter than normal to you with all his pet names and touchiness. it seems like his hand stays glued to your waist no matter how much you pry him off a you.

everytime another guy runs with his tail between his legs, you're pointing the finger at toji, but that man couldn't care less. it’s not his fault they're too pussy. he knows exactly the type a man a doll like you needs and he can give that to you better than any of those little boys ever could.

what's more is he has no sense of personal space. it’s always, “i was just looking for something,”

when he hovers so close you can feel his smile on your neck while you all bent over in the fridge, caged between his arms as his bulge rubs against the small of your back.

or “an accident” when he’s spreading out on your already too small couch and practically forcing you onto his thigh, subtly grinding you against it everytime he moves as his hand slips around your waist and under your shirt. he’s just tryna consolidate space, honest. it ain't his fault he's as big as he is. and it's definitely not his fault you’ve got such a dirty little mind.

and he's such a mess.. clothes, dishes, everything. you find them scattered just about all over the place. the worst offense, however, was a discarded package laying on your living room table. a fleshlight, you realized seconds too late, toji making his grand entrance the moment you're shutting the box closed.

you can tell by the shit eating grin on his face that playing it cool won't cut it, but you try anyway, pretending to get back to tidying up the table as he inches up close behind you.

“i don’t mind sharing,” he breathes, hand hovering on your waist a second too long as he reaches around you for his box, “if you let me watch,”

you stay still, waiting for him to laugh it off and turn back around, but he stays leaning over you.

“youre such a…”

“i’m such a what?” he tilts his head, hand subtly sliding down to the waistband of your pants, massaging where it meets your warm skin. he's rubbing in circles, fingers gently raking up and down your side till they're slipping under your pants.

your eyes trace the veins on his hand as you feel him squeeze at your bare thigh, your underwear hitching farther up as his thumb presses close against your clothed dick. your mind spins every time you feel him inching closer to your soft cock, taking in the thought of him pulling you back into his lap and sliding your pants to your knees so he could take care of you like you deserved. mind falling away, you let yourself lean back into his chest, your hand firmly placed on his arm to ground yourself.

“..or i can always give you the real deal,” he hums your breathe hitching as he gropes at your growing bulge, his words hot on the skin of your neck as you feel his hardening dick grinding against the curve of your ass, “if, that's what his highness prefers,”

you can feel the smirk on his lips as he presses a kiss against the side of your neck, and you blink away whatever trance he had you in.

“dickhead,” you mutter, slipping out of his arms and away from him, pretending not to notice his eyes trained on you as you break away. not once does that stupid smile leave his face as he watches you leave him and his half hard cock alone in the living room.

and that's he worst part of it all.. the worst part a him.. how smug he fucking gets. no matter how much you tell him off, no matter how much he teases you, he knows you can’t never stay mad at him for long. just a few touches in all the right places, a couple spoken promises, and you're like putty in his arms.

it don't matter how much tension you got pent up from his antics; at the end of the day, you're his. and he's always gonna be there to relieve that stress for you the best way he knows how; by bending you over whatever surface is nearest and railing you till you can't think of anything but the shape of his dick stuffed down your ass.

<3

“i was so lonely last night, yknow that?” tojis cock drills into you as you do your best to keep upright against the couch, “left me hard in the living room. had to take care of it all by myself,”

but you been knew that. he made no effort to hide it seeing how loud he was yesterday. you could hear him groaning your name and all the ways he wanted to have you from the comforts of your own bedroom, body hot as you kept your thighs pressed together, waiting for him to finish.

the moment you were back from your shift he was on you, pressing open mouth kisses as he made quick work of stripping you down. he had been waiting for what felt like ages to have all of you underneath him like this, so sweet and pliant in his arms, leaning into his heavy hands. coming undone at his every touch.

“what, nothing to say?” he grunts, grip on your waist tightening as you clench around him, sucking him back in with every thrust, his hands pulling your hips to fuck back into his, “or are you gonna let this ass do all the talking?”

you shake your head, helplessly grinding against the back of the couch as he splits you open on his dick.

“‘s too much,” you cry in between broken moans, burying your face in the nearest pillow in an attempt to hide how good he feels inside you. but he comes to a slow harsh grind of his cock, hands running all up your sides until they're resting on your shoulder.

he pulls you out of your pillow, forcing you to hear the lewd sound of his cock pulling out and leaving you empty. toji grunts, your tight hole not wanting to let go before its clenching around nothing, his pre dripping down the curve of your ass and off your thighs.

you do your best to stay steady on shaky arms, desperate whines muffled by your own hands as you feel him lining up again.

“you can take it sweetheart,” he rasps before ramming back into you, your ass spasming at the harsh thrust of his cock as he stuffs you full. your hand falls away from your lips, unable to hide the moans he rips from you as he pulls out and forces his cock into your ass again and again, making sure that the only thing your body will be able to remember is the shape of him inside you.

“that's it, doll,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss at the tears threatening to fall from your eyes as his strong arms keep you upright, “now let me hear you,”

[pintrestgrl]

Yes, yes, yes, bsf!JJ please 🗣️

okokok !! also i’m trying to get to all my asks, but ur girl needs sleep. i’ll probs get them out tomorrow though !! also i hope u like this anon !!

bsf!jj x innocent!reader

you’d always been close with jj, probably a bit too close. everyone always thought you two were secretly hooking up, in those drunken showers together, the late nights in his room, but you really weren’t.

that was, until he would complain to you about his gf. he’d go on and on about how she wasn’t giving him enough attention, and how she wasn’t affectionate enough. also, to your surprise, how she absolutely refused to suck his dick.

“she won’t- she won’t do that for you?” you’d say, not really believing him at first.

“yeah. claims she just ‘doesn’t do that.’ it’s depriving, honestly. i just want my fuckin’ dick sucked already.”

and suddenly, it looked like an idea crossed onto his mind. a bad one.

“you love me, right? i’m your bestfriend?” he’d say, a smirk on his pink lips.

“mhm. you’re my bestfriend.”

“and friends help eachother, right?”

you’d nod your head, that sweet innocent smile on your face.

“look, i just need one handjob. it’s not cheating if you don’t use your mouth, right?”

“oh- um, i suppose so. if it’s just to help you out.”

“yeah. just to help me out.”

you’d slide closer to him, laying on you front and looking down onto his lap as he pulled out his leaking cock.

you’d slowly guide your hand up and down his shaft, spitting onto his thick cock to lubricate it. he’d groan, throwing his head back at the much needed movement.

you’d continue this, before eventually he impulsively decided to try convince you to do something else.

“just kiss it, just a little. please?”

you’d hesitantly nod, pressing wet open mouthed kisses against his tip and length, occasionally kissing, maybe sucking on his balls a bit.

eventually, one thing led to another and he had you gagging on his cock, tears spilling out of your eyes as he fucked your throat. he’d push your head down, keeping it there until he was absolutely sure that you couldn’t take anymore.

there was spit bubbles and pre-cum all over your face and his cock, your salty tears mixing with the sexual fluids.

he’d cum all in your mouth, convincing you that you just had to swallow it. he knew better then you, right? he was just teaching you.

“so much fuckin’ prettier and obedient then her, angel. i swear it.”

you’d blush at his words, not yet realizing how bad he had corrupted you by shoving his cock down your sore throat.

[takamiwife]

Needy shigaraki or keigo dry humping users thigh? :)

-🎭

BOTH!!!! BOTH IS GOOD!!!

we r doing both.

💌this is nsfw. mdni!!💌

cw for keigo’s: includes somnophilia (previously discussed consent mentioned)

after another long night, keigo could barely stand as he crept through your balcony window, immediately kicking his shoes off and stripping himself of his clothes, hitting the floor with a soft thud. left just in his boxers, he crawled into your shared bed, under the warm covers, and you shifted slightly, wiping your eyes.

“kei?” you asked in an adorable sleepy voice

“hey, baby, another late night..” he said, moving closer as he pulled you against him

“mhmm…” you hummed, already back asleep, lulled into a cozy world of comfort.

keigo chuckled softly, running his hands along your body, drinking in the sight of you. you wore that pajama set he liked, the cotton tank top and matching shorts. tiny matching shorts.

he pulled you closer, kissing the top of your head as you stirred ever so slightly. see, the thing about you is that you were sometimes a sleep talker, and that would include making little sounds and noises. keigo found it endearing, especially when you talked in your sleep, regaining your sleepy words of wisdom to you the next morning.

but for some reason, tonight was different.

while tiny mewls and whimpers fell from your lips, keigo’s cock twitched in his boxers.

“my pretty girl,” he whispered as he climbed on top of you. he kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your pretty, plush, slightly parted lips. “so sleepy, hm? had a long day? me too baby.. i’m sorry i wasn’t home..” he spoke softly into your hair, slowly beginning to grind against your leg.

you had told keigo before that you didn’t mind if he woke you up in this way; in fact, you’d actually find it hot. but you were so peaceful and he was sure that you were so tired, he couldn’t possibly wake you with his own needs.

so he’d get the next best thing

he moved his hips slowly, shaky gasps escaping his throat as he forced himself to stay at a steady pace. was he perverted or were you just this sexy to where he could get off from fucking dry humping your thigh?

he moved a hand to the edge of your tank top, slowly lifting it up to it sat just above your perky tits, and he couldn’t help but take one in his hand, whimpering and whining as he desperately fucked against your thigh.

“fuck, baby, you have no idea how good you make me feel. i’m fuckin’ your leg and i’m about to cum.. fuck, god, fuck, i can’t help it.. feels so good..”

his mind was becoming increasingly dazed, his usual groans and moans turning into pathetic whimpers.

“fuck, baby, can’t- i can’t- can’t handle much more.. feels.. feels real good.. ‘m gonna.. gonna fucking cum..”

as he picked up his pace, your tits began to bounce rhythmically, nearly hypnotizing him as he leaned down, hiding his face in your neck, holding onto you tightly as his orgasm was quickly building in him.

“mmh- gonna- gonna cum, baby.. fuck, just from your fucking thigh.. your pretty.. pretty thigh..”

his orgasm washed over him as his wings twitched, his cock spilling his cum into his boxers (a mistake he would realize in just a few moments) as he thrust against your leg a few more times as he rode out his orgasm.

after having a moment to breathe, he pulled away, his heart beating louder in his chest as you laid there like an absolute angel. he pulled your shirt down, kissing your cheeks a million times before cleaning up in the bathroom and changing his boxers. he immediately climbed back into bed with you, and for a rare time was the little spoon, letting your arms and legs wrap around him.

tomura laid on your stomach, holding you gently (careful to not use all five fingers of course) as you played a game on his switch. both of you were in your pajamas, consisting of a baggy t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. he moved his head under the switch, kissing and nibbling at the sensitive flesh of your neck.

“what’re you doing?” you ask, still focused on your game.

“what do you think i’m doing?” he grinned, fingers sneaking under your shirt, full of hunger.

“jesus, it doesn’t take much for you, does it?” you playfully scoff as you feel him already hard against your leg.

“nah, not at all..” he chuckled as he moved his hips gently, sighing at the light friction.

you and tomura’s sex life was far from dull; with both of you being more on the switch side, it definitely kept things interesting. right now, it seemed like he thought he had a semblance of control, but you were sure to turn the tides on that.

as he moved his hand further up your shirt, you paused your game, grabbing his hand through the thin fabric.

“no,” you hold it firmly. “just keep doing what you were doing. i’m busy.”

tomura raised an eyebrow.

“excuse me?” he nearly laughed.

“you heard me. just do it.” the tone in your voice was enough to make tomura weak in the knees. as much as he hated to admit it, god he loved when you were dominant with him.

he reluctantly began to move his hips against your thigh again, moving his hand outside of your shirt to cup your chest on the other side of the fabric (as much as it pained him).

he bit back his lip to hide his embarrassing whimpers as he desperately ground his hips against your thigh, hoping you would have some kind of mercy on him and just fuck him.

but you didn’t. you acted like he wasn’t even there as you continued your game.

“y/nnnnn…” he groaned as he looked up at you like a wounded puppy, still trying to hide any whimpers.

“yes?” you asked, not looking away from your game.

“please.. this is so..”

“if you don’t like it, why are you still going?”

“well, i-.. it’s just, i’m-“ through all his stuttering, he didn’t stop the quickening movements of his clothes cock against your thigh.

as soon as you looked at from over his switch with a tilted head with wide eyes that held a questioning look, waiting for him to properly answer, he buried his face in your chest, whining against your tits as he only increased his speed, becoming slightly sloppy in his pace.

“poor baby…” you teased, putting the switch down as you ran your hands through his hair.

“j-just.. feels- feels so good- b-but.. but i.. need- need you…”

“i know, i know..” you coo. “but you’re doing so good.. so good for me..” you grin as you watch him continue to lose his resolve, gripping your sides tighter as he fucked against your thigh. “you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”

“yes, fuck, yes, please, please, please, please baby, please!”

any embarrassment tomura held melted away, as all he could think about right now was cumming whenever you said to.

he pulled his boxers down just enough so the pink tip of his cock stuck out, already dripping with precum.

“be a good boy for me,” you hum, leaning down to kiss his head. “i know you can.”

at your encouragement, tomura’s erratic thrusts halted to a stop as his body froze, his cum splattering across your thigh while his body shook, all while you ran your hands through his hair and along his back, praising him sweetly, reminding him how good he was, how proud you were of him.

once recovering, tomura made sure to clean you up, all while plotting the revenge you’d be receiving for the rest of the night.

[ohdeerfully]

hiii! this is my first request on tumblr but i jus love alastor sm and there is NOT enough fics for me out there. so im asking u❤️

what abt alastor being jealous of someone else in the hotel? for example: angel dust, he puts on music and you two are dancing with eachother happily not noticing the red eyed demon with a tight grin. 🥰

Hii! Honestly after writing this I realized I didn't follow the prompt exactly, less jealousy and more Alastor being overprotective. Oh well! Hope you like it anyway :D!

Be Back Soon (i)

alastor x reader (fluff? alastor is just overprotective) part i TW: Cursing/Angel existing if you want tagged in the next part, lmk! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

Your fingers dragged down the skin around your eyes as you let out a long sight, sitting at Husk’s bar with shoulders propped on the cold counter. What a day it had been, running around in the typical chaos of the hotel as Charlie tried to get some group bonding activities finished. It was getting late, and you just finally had a moment of peace.

“‘Ey, toots!” The chipper voice broke your peace and you couldn’t help it when another audible sigh escaped you. The culprit of the broken science paid no mind.

Turning your head, you narrowed your eyes and made eye contact with the lanky pink spider. You were a little salty at him in particular, being one of the main catalysts to the everyday insanity. He had an easy grin played upon his lips as he stared back down at you with his multicolored eyes, one pair of arms on his hips that jutted out a little too unnaturally in a mischievous pose. His golden tooth glinted under his light grin with a similar air of “hey I’m up to no good right now.”

“You look fuckin’ tired!” He barked a laugh, dramatically squeezing his eyes shut in a theatrical show of laughing in your face. It really wasn’t that funny, and you couldn’t stop the frown that touched your lips as you watched him. He took pride in being the way he was. Annoying.

“No thanks to you, Angel,” You clipped back. You turned your head to watch Husk, who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. He had become an expert in ignoring the spider demon’s presence, which was how he managed to stay sane with said demon’s constant flirting and sexual nature.

“Anyway,” He waves away your targeted words with a wave of his hands as his eyes roll up. “I was thinkin’ we get outta here for the night? Me and Cherri were gonna have a “girl’s night.”” You briefly thought about the humor in Angel admitting to being ‘one of the girls,’ but pushed the thought away to consider his invitation. “It wouldn’t hurt ta get some fresh air. This place is real stuffy sometimes, and a huge snooze fest,” he persuaded. He rested his face on one pair of hands, fingers laced under his chin, as he leaned against the bartop in anticipation for your answer.

You purse your lips in thought. It wouldn’t hurt, right? You didn’t go out clubbing a lot, and with Angel and Cherri with you surely nothing wrong would happen. They looked out for their friends, and you would (maybe regretfully) consider yourself Angel’s friend. You glanced at Husk for a moment, as if looking for advice, but his eyes remained close and his lips had an annoyed curl. Maybe you should get out of his hair.

“Okay, okay,” You grinned, a little sheepishly. While you couldn’t really consider ‘fresh air’ to be a feature of Hell, you agreed that you needed to just Get Out of this place. Running errands for Charlie got mundane, even with all the strange characters that cycled through the place. One tends to get used to the chaos.

Angel stretched his arms up in a cheer, which earned a one-eyed, aggravated look from Husk. He uttered something under his breath before grabbing a bottle and walking to the other corner.

“Alright, sweet lips,” Angel cooed at you. “Let's get you dressed! You got anything decent up in your closet?”

Your hand found its way to the back of your neck as you answered sheepishly, “Eh, not really… At least, not for a night out. I don’t really do much outside of the Hotel.” Angel frowned at the response, tapping his chin in thought.

“Lemme take a look,” With a swipe of his arm, your hand was suddenly being held as he dragged you up the steps toward the floor of your room.

Walking down at the same time, you briskly passed by Alastor, who had his eyes closed and a hum in his mouth. His blazing red eyes peered open as you and Angel rushed past him, a quizzical furrow in his brow seeing the connection between your hands. You shot him a shy grin and craned your head back to shout a quick ‘I’ll explain in a minute,’ before you disappeared around the bend of the stairs.

You didn’t miss the dark gleam in his eyes.

Angel, in an attempt to dramatically burst through your door, slammed full body into the entrance. “Ah- the hell?” He cried, roughly jiggling the handle.

“I keep it locked,” you snickered at him and the disheveled look in his usually preened hair. You saw him take his hands to brush it out as you fiddled with the lock, an annoyed mutter of words escaping his lips. The second the door clicked, Angel shoved past you and reattempted his dramatic burst through the entrance with a bit more luck this time around.

He went straight for your closer, rummaging through this and that. What a breach of privacy, this guy is, you thought with a strained smile as you stepped up next to him to try to guide him through your very Ordinary and Plain clothes.

You felt a prickling sensation on your skin, and you swear you heard a frequency of low static, but when you whipped your head around nothing stood there. Did that shadow just move?

Shaking your head, you looked at the piece Angel held proudly in his hands, one pair of arms gripping the top and the second pair pulling the bottom out to really get a full inspection.

It was incredibly simple, but still a bit more revealing than anything you were used to wearing. A deep red top, so cropped it may as well be a sporty bra, with a couple eye-catching accents of rhinestones. Connected with thin straps was a similarly tight pair of booty shorts. Your face flushed at the thought of wearing this. It was practically lingerie.

“Isn’t it a bit, uh, tacky?” You tried in an attempt to dissuade him from this getup. He acted offended, one hand going and pressing against his fluffed chest. You didn’t miss the way he took this as an opportunity and pressed up against himself to perk up his mass of chest fur.

“Babe, I wear shit like this all the time! You tellin’ me,” He started a rant, shaking the clothes in a fit of mock rage. “You tellin’ me I’m tacky? Hah! Me! Angel Dust!” He wiped away a fake tear in his laughter.

Your face flushed again looking at the getup. With a defeated mutter you swiped it from his hands and trekked painfully slowly to the restroom. You ignored Angel’s urgency for you to ‘hurry the hell up’ because it was almost time to get going.

You slowly stripped yourself of your day clothes, gingerly stepping through the tight shorts and tucking your arms through the straps of the top. You didn’t even remember buying this thing, it had been stuffed far in the back of your closet. You couldn’t help the feeling of dread thinking about the other embarrassing things Angel might have seen in there. Though, you doubt anything could phase that guy.

You had to admit, looking at your reflection, that it did accentuate your curves, even if you didn’t have much to begin with. The rhinestone accents glittered in the bathroom light, obviously designed in a way to bring attention to the chest. The straps that connect the two pieces fit snugly against your exposed torso. You were suddenly glad Hell never got that cold.

“Almost ready!” You snapped at Angel calling from the other side of the door. You quickly threw on some touches of makeup, trying your best to compliment the shades of your outfit and adding some glittery makeup around your eyes. You quickly dragged your fingers through your hair to style it comfortably.

You ripped open your door just as fists started banging on it. Angel stood there with two arms raised, stopped midair to keep himself from decking you in the head. You glared up at him, trying to maintain your earlier sourness to hide the fact that the outfit had grown on you.

“Hey, sexy lady!” Angel teasingly leaned himself against the doorframe with a smirk. “Let’s fuckin’ go! You took too damn long! Cherri hates waitin’.”

Grabbing your hand again, he ushered you out of the room. As you raced down the stairs, you tried to continuously preen your hair to keep it from flying out of shape as Angel practically drug you down each step.

He slowed at the bottom, releasing your hand, and stepping towards Husk’s bar to aggravate and flirt with the cat one last time before heading out. You tuned out his sexual innuendoes as you tried to glance over yourself one last time.

“My, what a dame you are!” Alastor’s recognizably radio-afflicted voice ripped your attention away from picking at a loose rhinestone. He stood over you, a slight bend in his waist and an unnatural crane in his neck. His smile was there, but tight and uneasily wide as he examined you through squinted eyes. He leaned his weight against his cane.

Swallowing your unease, you examined his expression. You knew Alastor didn’t care for such… promiscuous outfits. Especially on what he considered his. You knew his compliment was satirical, and you didn’t miss that glint of anger flash through his expression.

“Heyy, Al,” You drew out your words, unintentionally accentuating the awkward tone between the two of you. He paid no mind, keeping up that seemingly cheerful grin of his as he just… stared at you. His fingers tapped impatiently on the radio of his cane, each tap bringing a warp to the frequency that always surrounded him. “I’m going out with Angel tonight. Y’know… to get some air…”

“My dear,” His eyes closed in a laugh and he straightened himself out. “Why would you ever go out there for fresh air? Now, you know those demons would just eat you right up.” A dark sneer infected his smile, lips curling and exposing the line of his black gums.

“‘Ey c’mon, Smiles,” Angel stepped up next to you and lazily threw an arm over your shoulder. You saw that sneer only deepen as Alastor watched the spider get way too close to you. “Give ‘er a break! She’s always runnin’ around doin’ shit for this bum-ass hotel! It makes her… boring!” 

You didn’t know whether or not to appreciate Angel both defending and insulting you. You decided to just ignore his comments as you watched Alastor’s expression get darker and more sinister. You felt a cold sweat prickle at your neck as that static-y frequency of his became more prominent and aggressive as his eyes swept over the two of you, lingering on your exposed abdomen with a frustrated twitch in his brow.

“Why, of course!” He suddenly cheered, brandishing his hands to his side in a slight bow. “But…” He stepped towards you, looming over you. You felt that nervous tickle again. His right hand raised and, with a quick motion, a fairly modest jacket materialized around your shoulders. “All better! Wouldn’t want greedy eyes seeing what’s mine!”

How bold, you thought. He was from the ‘30s, though, and very old fashioned. It made sense that immodest wear bothered him. Plus, you looked down at the jacket. It had a similar color scheme, and was light enough to not be too warm. At least it goes with my outfit. How sweet.

You felt a bit giddy at the permission Alastor had given you–not that you needed it. (You did). You’re a grown ass adult. (It doesn’t matter). You shot him a smile of thanks before dashing out the door, meeting Cherri who had been frequently laying on the car horn for you to Hurry the Fuck Up.

Before Angel Dust could follow, a tight grip on one of his wrists stopped him in his tracks. He hissed, yanking his arm but to no avail. Alastor’s grab was like iron, and his nails began to dig into Angel’s skin.

“Hey you fuck, let me go! I gotta get out there before Cherri starts blowin’ this shit up!”

Alastor pulled Angel in closer, a sneer-like grin crossing his expression. There was a maddening look in his glowing red eyes.

“If she comes home with even the smallest scrape,” He said in a low tone, the garble of his radio slightly distorting his voice. “I’m going to make you wish you never came to this Hazbin Hotel.”

Alastor’s grip didn’t yield as Angel tried again in a futile attempt to release himself. He had a nervous laugh in his voice as he tried to act unintimidated by the Radio Demon’s threat.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, you creepy red fuck,” He gruffed back, “Me an’ Cherri will stick right by her. You don’t gotta worry about nothin’.” Alastor’s expression shifted in an instant, his cheerful grin reappearing. He stood up straight and smiled down at Angel. “Good man! Now, don’t be too long,” He shooed Angel out of the lobby, who was more than glad to get the fuck out of there. He heard a faint ‘I’ll be watching’ from behind as he slammed the car door shut, muttering curses under his breath.

He knew Alastor would send that damn shadow of his to keep a close eye, so why the fuck did Angel have to babysit you in the first place? Plus, you weren’t some weak, naive fool. Whatever. He knew Alastor would take any excuse to cause some entertaining mayhem.

He sighed as he looked at you, who had a nervous but excited grin as Cherri rambled and cursed about something.

Maybe he shouldn’t have invited you out. He knew he was in for a long, stressful night. Good thing there would be a bar.

[moonlight-prose]

nameless as a river undiscovered underground

a/n: i really wish october could last longer than a few weeks, because i simply want to keep writing spooky stories and logan fics. i keep posting them late, but i'm doing them last minute (bad i know). this one is more a drabble than a fic, but i loved the idea of logan and his leather jacket. especially the thought of him loving you wearing it.

logan promptober: day eighteen - leather jacket

summary: his leather jacket remained a tie between your love and his. the weight of it, the smell of your intertwined scents, all revolved around a relationship he never thought would happen.

word count: 1.2k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY!!, p in v sex, reverence, love, fluff, the soft vibes of logan being in love.

You were clad in his leather jacket—swallowed by the heaviness of it—the first time he kissed you. In the rain a mile out from the mansion, beside a broken down car and cell phones that wouldn't work. He'd never seen true beauty until you smiled at him. Drenched to the bone, laughing, and luminant in the dark of a night gone wrong.

At one point in the past, he swore to himself he was safer never falling down that unknown pit. That heart devouring thing that made his insides twist and heart turn inside out. It terrified him. Knowing he could one day lose it all in the blink of an eye—become a shell of himself without the presence of another. Solitude kept him safe, kept him from causing destruction to innocent people hell bent on showing him love.

But then he kissed you.

Mid laughter, with eyes still alight in that angelic glow, Logan Howlett put his heart on the line and pressed his lips to yours. The rain pelted your faces in a cold icy wave of brutal weather. Yet neither of you cared. You dug your hands into his hair matted down with too much water and dragged him close enough to give life to that ache in his chest.

You kissed him without conviction. Instead putting your faith—your entire being—on the steady beat of your heart that echoed loudly in his head. The heat of your mouth, the wet slide of your tongue, killed him on the spot. He was a dead man walking—a corpse without a soul.

All because you decided to steal it away with a grin before kissing him once again.

The leather jacket became a comfort in your relationship with a man who ran hotter than a radiator. He didn't need the heavy weight of it, but he liked it. The color, the detailing, the story encased in the frayed thread that lined the insides.

You still remember discovering the small polaroid kept in the inside pocket, tucked away from sight yet pressed to his heart. It was you. Dressed up for the very first time. Storm took the photo on a whim, Logan stole it from her study two days later. You'd later ask him about the messy heart drawn on the bottom white strip—a scribble of the word sweetheart placed underneath.

He turned fifty shades of crimson the second you brought it up, but the photo still remained in place. Stuck to his body whenever he wore his jacket—a familiar piece of his heart whenever you wore it instead.

Tradition was embedded in the stolen item of clothing. The way he draped it over your shoulders on nights out, the times he spent bundling you up when you conveniently forgot your own sweater in his bedroom. You'd burrow your face in the collar, breathing in the musk of his cigars. He'd drop his head against his shoulder at the fragrant scent of your perfume still stuck to the lining.

Each of you placed your mark on the fabric, intent on leaving small reminders of who wore it last. But his favorite memory still remained in the pocket that still held a little rip on the outer edge—the time he clawed at it to grasp you close until the audible echo of destruction turned pain into laughter.

"You're gonna be the fuckin' death of me," he grunted, fingers sharply pressed into the bare skin of your hips.

You smiled, half lidded eyes glazed over in a cloud of darkened lust. "I thought the Wolverine couldn't be killed."

"That wasn't for you to test."

"Can't say you don't like me like this baby," you sighed, leaning back against the kitchen table placed in your very own house.

A home shared with him.

The cracked groan brought satisfaction right to the top of your chest—love beating its own drum in the depths of your body. Logan came home early to a welcome surprise of you in his jacket...and nothing else on. The plan was to get dinner, go walk the city to find a bit of romance tucked away in the corners of cafes and the lowlights of bars.

Neither of you made it to the car.

"It'll smell like you," he gasped, dragging his cock through your dripping cunt. The head nudging against your clit with each stroke. "I'll smell like you."

"Logan–" You clawed at his shoulders, lifting your hips in the hopes of enticing him to move. To put you out of your misery and slide home.

"It'll drive me crazy." A messy kiss overflowing with the love you felt flicker to life in your chest was pressed to your lips. Messy and needy and filled with the soft moan of his gravelly voice.

You sucked his tongue into your mouth, grinning at the brittle sound that cracked at the base of his throat. "Now you know how I feel."

Sinking into you felt like home. The hot slick grip of your walls clamping down around his cock broke something in the back of his mind. A wire that connected common sense with intellect. He watched it unravel before his very eyes—your lips coated in his spit curling into a grin. A smile that left him breathless and begging for more.

You were rapturous. The embodiment of what he believed hope looked like; the light at the end of his cracked and unstable road.

"So fuckin' pretty," he muttered, his eyes flickering between where he thrusted into you and your breasts covered by his jacket. "Should dress like this all the damn time."

"I'd get cold," you laughed, slinging an arm around his neck.

"You got me to keep you warm."

A harsh thrust sent you higher up on the table, pulling free a high pitched moan that sunk into his skin with a warmth that bloomed towards his chest. He wanted to pour out each emotion and watch you drink it down like the ichor of the gods. The life he led before suddenly felt as if there was a purpose to all the suffering he endured—all the pain that still lingered in phantom wounds long since healed.

You were the purpose he sought.

The person he was always meant to find.

He'd do it all over again if given the choice as long as you were there waiting for him—holding out a hand to bring him home.

You came with a garbled shout of his name, your walls sucking his cock back into you to keep him close. Each stunted thrust lit a fire in his body, his hands gripping any bare part of you he could reach as you fell back against the table. Your eyes glazed over and your mouth parted in a silent scream.

A few more sharp thrusts and he followed you quicker than he expected—practically toppling onto your body as he fucked his cum deep. Enough to have it spilling out and coating the inside of your thighs. He was half tempted to drop to his knees and clean you up, but the tight grip you had on his shoulders kept him in place. The close proximity of his body all you craved in the rolling aftershocks of your orgasm.

"All mine?" you whispered, still gasping for breath.

He smiled, lips brushing across yours. "All yours sweetheart."

This was how he loved you.

Thoroughly, harshly, yet with every part of his being.

[cherubfae]

𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔶𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢𝔡 || {𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢}

tags: gn!reader, implied ftm!for Angie, established relationship, fluff, comfort, for anyone who has been too stressed or tired lately<3 let them carry you

Alastor

He lets out a deep sigh, staring down at you with slow blinks. "My love, surely that can't be comfortable for you" He has warned you time and time again not to spread yourself too thin with your tasks. Alastor appreciates how much of a good work ethic you have, but what is it worth if you don't have the strength to walk to your room? He picks you up as gently as he can, melding into shadow as he pops into your room. Carefully laying you down, Alastor will cover you up and with a gentle pat on your head before he takes his leave. Perhaps, next time he'll be tempted to rest beside you.

Lucifer

No wonder you hadn't answered him when he called your name. Here you were, fast asleep on his deep red chaise lounge using your folded arms as pillows. Lucifer picks you up bridal-style half-wishing you were awake so that you could see how strong he is! Another time, he thinks. Your rest is much more important than his ego (for now). "Sleep well, honey." He grins, wiggling beneath the sheets like an inch warm, his eyes sparkling with admiration. Placing a kiss to your head, Lucifer is quick to fall asleep.

Charlie

Honestly, she really does try her best not to squeal at the sight of you. You've been working insanely hard for the hotel-- it's no wonder you're so pooped out! She's careful with wiggling one arm beneath your back and hooking the other beneath your knees. She'll carry you to whichever room is closest: yours or hers. Maybe she'll be able to convince you to move into her suite soon. "Oh my gosh, aren't you just the cutest, honey?? I love you so much!"

Angel Dust

"Awww, sweets! Lookit ya! All tuckered out." He cooed in a hushed whisper, lightly booping your nose. His grin widens when it crinkles upwards. His middle set of arms pick you up, preferring to use his gloved ones to stroke back your hair softly. Leaning his cheek against your forehead, Angel carries you off to his room where an excited Fat Nuggets happily circles the bed in preparation for a lovely nap with his two favorite people.

Husk

Putting away the final glass beneath the bar's counter, his yellow eyes drift to your sleeping form at the end of the bar. You'd insisted on waiting for him to finish but all that work promoting the hotel on foot, searching for any sinners ready to be redeemed was a hard task. Husk fought back a smile. "You really do care about this stuff, dont'cha?" He asks despite knowing you won't answer. "Let's get ya to bed." Husk stretches his wings with a sigh before they fall slack. He lifts you into his arms and makes the trek up the stairs.

Blitzø

He'll bitch and groan about it, but he also won't let anyone else touch you when you're sleeping. Blitz will make some claims about how the person trying to touch you probably has cooties or a viral infection or something. Not happening. He's quick to scoop you up into his arms, eyes narrowed slightly, before scampering off to his room with you. "No, you don't get to fuckin' touch them with your gross unwashed hands, Moxxie-- yeah, that's right I saw you! We are living in post-Covid times, mister! Ack, no, leave 'em! I'll carry them just fine thank you!"

Loona

She smirks when she sees you. You look so sweet and cute, curled up into a ball. But that position can't be good on your spine, nor sleeping on Blitz's sad depression sofa. Loona bends down to lift you into her arms, pushing open her bedroom with her elbow and closing it shut with her foot. A nap with you sounded perfect. "You sure do look cute when you're tired, babe." She nuzzles your cheek with her nose.

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[entitled-fangirl]

Breakfast is ready.

Felix Catton x reader

Summary: The reader feels sick, but Felix is going to make sure she eats breakfast.

Words: 968

Warnings: sickness, cursing

Author's note: This is kind of from an ask but I made it just about breakfast!

Masterlist

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She woke up to the blinds being opened by the maid, "Breakfast is ready."

She let out a soft groan, sitting up and stretching her arms out. Her hair was a mess, her clothes frumpeld. She looked over to see that Felix's side of the bed was empty and quite cold. He had been out for a while, and she couldn't possibly guess why he would leave her.

She pushed herself to the edge of the bed, standing onto her feet. Her head hurt, perhaps her body becoming ill, but there was no skipping breakfast. Her legs shivered, her now realizing she is only in Felix's shirt and her underwear. 

Running to the dresser, she pulls a pair of slacks. Pulling them on quickly, she throws a jumper over Felix's shirt. She tames her hair just enough to look presentable. But she takes an extra minute in the mirror, looking at the bags under her eyes. How late had they stayed up?

Throwing on a pair of socks to keep her feet warm, she quickly goes downstairs to breakfast.

Entering the dining room, she's greeted with quiet, "Morning"s. Her eyes immediately scan the table, seeing Felix look up at her too. A bright smile comes across his face at the sight of her sleepy form.

She quickly moves to sit next to him. As she sits down, she feels Felix's hand rest on her back, "You alright, angel?" He asks in a low tone.

"I… yeah. I just don't know why you didn't wake me up this morning." Her hand reaches up to her head as the headache comes back.

He lets out a soft laugh, whispering in her ear, "Well, I figured you deserve as much beauty sleep as I could give you. Seemed to work. I mean, look at you this morning. Taking my fuckin breathe away."

A smile graced her face as her cheek turned a shade of pink.

Duncan entered, "Goodmorning. How would you like your eggs?"

She grimaced, her voice coming out still quiet and hoarse from her sleep, "I'm fine, Duncan. I'm not that hung-"

"-She'll have them over easy. Thanks."

Duncan leaves with a nod.

She turned to Felix, "Why did you do that?"

He shrugs, his arm going over the back of her chair, "You need to eat."

She gives a slight pout, "I can't… my head hurts too bad."

His eyebrows furrow, "Did you sleep alright?"

She nods, "I slept fine, Lex."

He doesn't take that for an answer.

"Listen, angel. You think you're getting sick?"

"No. No. I'm alright."

He nods, deciding not to fight about it at the table. A silence ensues for a while before he decides to break it again. "Oh, angel. We were talking about the Shelley biography."

Venetia jumped in, "yeah. Do you know the story about Shelley's doppelgänger?"

She shook her head, stopping once she remembered the headache.

Felix got up from the table, going to the side table.

Venetia continued, "Shelley's housekeeper was cleaning one of the rooms when Shelley walked past the window and waved at her. So, she waved back before she realized that Shelley was in Italy…"

Felix had returned to the table, gently setting the now made plate in front of his angel for her to eat. She looked at him with a slightly disagreeing look, but knew not to fight about it at the table. 

"…And she was on the top floor of the house…"

Felix grimaced at Venetia's story, his hands moving over his girl's ears to keep her from hearing it. If it would freak him out, he knew she shouldn't hear it, "Oh, Vee. Stop, stop, stop. I won't sleep."

But she continued, "…a few hours later, he drowned."

Elspeth gasped, "oh. Oh, that's just given me goosebumps."

Felix took his hands back, considering it safe for his girl to listen again.

Farleigh stared at the paper in front of him, his voice strong and uncaring, "I heard he fucked his sister."

Sir James finally spoke up, "Oh, for God's sake!"

Felix turned, "Jesus, Farleigh…"

Oliver quipped up, "I think that was Byron."

The table went quiet, as if everyone had forgotten that Oliver was there. That quickly turned to small chatter between the adults.

Farleigh looked disgusted but Felix held an amused smile on his face, turning to her to see she had a matching one. He then pointed at her plate, as if telling her to eat it. About that time, Duncan brought out her eggs, setting it next to her other full plate. She let out a sigh, staring at the food. 

Elspeth was brought out of her talk hearing the girl's sigh. "Oh, darling. Is everything alright?"

Her eyes snapped up, her mouth opening to answer, but Felix beat her to it, "she's not feeling well, that's all."

The mother nodded, "Oh, I see. Nasty sickness going around this time of year. Take your time today, darling."

She nodded gratefully, turning back to her plate. The chattering continued and she continued to stare at the plate. Eventually, Felix brushed her arm lightly with his, his voice soft again, "Is something wrong, angel? You really must eat."

She simply stared at the eggs, feeling herself get sick just staring at them. Felix noticed it, immediately moving the plate away, "Duncan. Could I actually get some eggs just… scrambled?"

"Felix, stop."

"No. I want you to be able to eat what's in front of you. Duncan?"

Duncan nodded, taking the plate away quickly. 

She turns to see everyone staring at them. She mutters a quiet, "I'm sorry."

Felix sighs, "Don't be, angel." He kissed the top of her head as she stared at the table in embarrassment. 

Breakfast continued, Felix's arm around the back of her chair the entire time.

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