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onetoomanyfandomfixations · 11 months ago

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Helluva Boss Characters Reacting to You Asking for a Hug

Tbh this series is just for my own enjoyment at this point lmao

I’m so normal about them, I swear.

BLITZØ

Honestly, it depends on what type of relationship you have with him

Familial relationship? Best BELIEVE he’s coddling the shit outta you rn

^ def a cheek pincher

“Hey sweetie? Do you need me ta fuck someone up for ya?”

But if y’all are platonic, or SATAN FORBID

R O M A N T I C ?

Ur not getting Shit

Well, until you start crying

“You’re a fuckin’ baby, you know that?”

Very casual hugs

Always sits his chin on you

Will complain the entire time

But you both know he loves you

LOONA

“Oh shit, you good?”

She’s blunt, not heartless

Honestly pretty touched that you asked for a hug instead of just going for one

Like her adoptive dad, very casual hugs

Usually just slings an arm over your shoulders

Won’t talk to you about it

Y’all just sit in comforting silence

Don’t let anyone point out that she’s letting you touch her

Will get v flustered

Depending on how you both feel - may let you play with her hair to self regulate

MILLIE

“Sure thing, hun!”

Doesn’t matter who you are, or why you need a hug, she’ll take it

Physical affection is her top love language idc

Squeezes super super tight

Like, you can barely breathe

Gushes over how sweet you are

Will probs pepper your face in kisses too (doesn’t matter what ur relationship with her is)

((Millie is a strong believer in non-romantic kisses, she told me herself))

Will probs ask Moxxie to bring y’all a drink

MOXXIE

“Uhh, you sure you want a hug from me?”

Yes babe I’m sure

Doesn’t think he’s the best one to be comforting you - will palm you off to Millie if he can

But will be offended if anyone else says he can’t look after you

^^ Gets all huffy about it

Distraction is his new best friend

Will tell you a mixture of stories and fun facts to try and make you feel better

Will also make you a hot drink

If you want to, will talk out your feelings with you

STOLAS

Babes just blinks for a hot minute as your words register with him

Has the softest smile

“Of course, dearest. Come here.”

A hug isn’t enough for him, you’re in for a full blown cuddle sesh now

Likes the feeling of having you fully wrapped up in his arms

Forehead kisses. Forehead Kisses.

Will sometimes swaddle you in blankets like a literal baby

Hums softly for you

Tries to ask what’s wrong, will def push the subject

He just wants to fix it, okay?

Will just,,, smother you in affection until you’re okay

And then some

OCTAVIA

Judgemental eyebrow raise.

Judgy, judgy girl

Y’all gotta be CLOSE for her to hug

((But not really, she’s so touch starved its not funny, but we don’t talk about that-))

Long, comforting hugs

If u end up crying, will fix your makeup for you

Don’t mention it though

Like, literally don’t mention it or it won’t happen again

She probs just breathes a sigh of relief when y’all hugs

Holds on a little too tight, for a little too long

If you ask first, she’ll start coming to you for hugs now too

FIZZAROLLI

Baby. Baby, baby man.

Will wrap his arms around you several times over

Another really tight hugger

You had shit to do?

Sike, not anymore

Now you’re spending all day with Fizz

Your fault, you started it by asking for a hug

Is super worried about you, but tries to play it down

Will do stupid shit just to see you laugh

Will ALSO flirt with you until you can’t stand it anymore

ASMODEUS

Immediately concerned, does not try to hide it

Much like his bf, cancels all plans for today

Y’all are gonna be chilling in bed and cuddling now

Just kinda,,, scoops you up?

Definitely plays with your hair

Gives a SOLID head massage

So so gentle and sweet

Just lays you on his chest

Draws pictures on your back and makes you guess what he’s drawing

^^ he does this to help ground you

Tbh he’ll probably drag Fizz to bed too, so know they’re both looking after you

Mans isn’t gonna let anyone get left out

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guiltyasdave · 6 months ago

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just close your eyes

chapter 3 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.2k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury, implied death of a character, the angst is ANGSTING in this one

a/n: once again, i can't thank that jackson joel pedro photo enough for the inspiration that it's brought me. i hurt my own feelings with this chapter, and truth be told, it's gonna get worse from here.

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

Over the following days, something of a routine forms between the three of you.

Joel spends most of his time resting, asleep more often than not, the shape of him on your couch a picture that you grow familiar with. But as his fever goes down and the skin around his injury is less red than when you first laid eyes on it, you allow yourself the tentative hope that you might have been able to actually save him.

You’re becoming less skittish around him, getting used to his rather gruff demeanor, slowly realizing that what Ellie said was indeed true, it’s not about you. You come to think he just doesn’t like needing and accepting help.

Ellie follows you around like a puppy, eager to soak up every scrap of knowledge that you can share with her. It’s not much, you think, mostly cooking, the task of turning supplies into various meals, given the limited resources that you have in this world. You like having her around, the almost constant stream of chatter and questions never annoying you.

It fills your usual silence, helps keeping you grounded in the present. Most of the time.

Now that you have company, it becomes painfully obvious to you how much time you spend in your head, just sitting and staring straight ahead, lost in your thoughts, oblivious to the time passing. You have taken to having a book open in your lap, to make it seem like you’re reading, but you find yourself looking down at the page without seeing it, not sure when you last turned it.

It’s not what they would have wanted, you keep telling yourself, trying to shake yourself out of it. Well, it’s not like anything happened the way we wanted, the bitter voice in your head answers.

If Ellie or Joel notice, they don’t ask about it. You hear their voices in the night sometimes, both of them sleeping in your parents’ bedroom now, since the couch was starting to hurt Joel’s back.

You don’t lock your door anymore, leaving it ajar, just like them. The thought of someone else being down here with you is soothing you, the fear of them being a possible threat basically nonexistent at this point. Instead, a different kind of fear sets in.

They haven’t talked about where they are going, but you know that they’re not gonna stay forever. Once Joel is completely healed, and winter has given way to spring, they’ll most likely be off again, leaving you on your own again. You don’t want to grow attached, but it’s difficult not to, while being with other constantly.

You and Joel are taking longer to warm up to each other than you and Ellie have, but you’ve gotten used to having him around you. It’s a quiet, but trustworthy, reassuring thing, his presence in your space. Now that he’s healing, he’s someone who you trust to take responsibility, to take care of things if needed. You’re not sure how you know, but you’re certain that he is.

One evening, Ellie finds the DVD collection that’s stashed away in the cabinet under the small TV in the corner of the room. You hadn’t watched anything in forever, not sure if it’s even still working, but her enthusiasm makes it impossible to turn her down.

Even Joel pipes up at the prospect of a movie night, crouching down next to her to sift through the DVDs. They’re both drawn to the shitty action movies – usually not your preferred taste, but you find the corners of your mouth lifting when they both turn around simultaneously, looking for your approval of their choice.

Joel pushes himself back up with a grunt, pressing the button on the TV and making it spring to life without issue. You settle deeper into the couch cushions, pulling a knitted blanket over yourself as you watch the opening credits play.

It’s so comfortable, so normal, and you want to get lost in the feeling in a way that makes your heart ache. Ellie sits down beside you to share the blanket while Joel stretches his legs out on the other couch. A smile is tugging at his lips when he catches you looking at him, but it can’t hide the wariness in his eyes, mirroring your own. It’s the feeling of things being too good to be true, the fear of nothing good ever lasting, of the world crashing down around you again, that always accompanies you, and without asking, you know that he feels it too. You cast your eyes back to the screen, trying hard not to get yourself lost in the fear, but to enjoy the moments of peace while they last.

Ellie loves the movie, her eyes wide at every action-packed sequence, gasping at every explosion. At one of the more absurd scenes, you can’t contain the burst of laughter that bubbles up your throat. You’re unexpectedly joined by the deeper rumble of Joel’s, a sound that you haven’t heard before.

You glance at him, to find his eyes already on you, an emotion in them that you can’t place. Neither of you say a word, both quietly returning your eyes to the TV.

When you’re lying in bed later that night, you still feel the smile on your face.

While your closeness with Ellie came quickly, almost taking you by storm, it’s a quiet, slowly growing thing with Joel.

It begins with him lingering in the kitchen when you’re preparing the morning coffee, asking you questions about the place, about keeping supplies, electricity, the safety measures. He helps you with cooking, grumbling about giving something back when you protest.

He’s gruff, no comparison to Ellie’s lively chatter and endless questions, and it makes you nervous at first. But you get used to him, his more quiet demeanor, his dry humor. You can tell that he’s trying hard not to scare you again, avoiding sudden movements or getting loud, and while you appreciate it, you also can’t help but wonder how broken you must seem from the outside.

He doesn’t ask prying questions about your past, how you’ve come to live here all alone, though you have to imagine that he’s curious. You don’t ask him about his either, even if you do wonder how he and Ellie ended up together. It’s a quiet mutual understanding and you’re grateful for it.

You have to believe that he had his fair share of loss in his own life, that the both of them had; an inescapable reality at this point in the world’s history.

It’s like a silent camaraderie when he catches your eye as Ellie is reading out puns to the both of you once more, rolls his eyes in a way that still holds so much love for the girl next to you, but that fills you with the urge to giggle. It stops you in your tracks the first time it happens, the sensation so unfamiliar to you that you can’t place it for a second.

When you smile at him, the corners of his mouth rise ever so slightly as well, before he huffs an exaggerated sigh at the joke that you just heard. It riles Ellie up, just like he wanted to, you suspect. But you block out her bickering at him, busy with your own thoughts. One thought in particular, one that you haven’t had about anyone since you were a teenager.

Joel is kind of pretty when he smiles.

The both of them have also taken to working their way through the bookshelf that’s taking up most of one of the walls. It’s mostly guidebooks on hunting, gardening, self defense, anything that your father deemed possibly useful. Over time, you had added books from your old bedroom, the one upstairs, that you had hastily carried down the stairs, hoping for the familiar words to give you a sense of normalcy in a world where nothing was normal anymore.

Joel sometimes talks to you about them, asking your opinion on which ones to read, discussing their contents with you. Over time, you realize that he does it when you’re zoning out, pulling you back into reality with the drawl of his low voice next to you. You’re thankful for it, not used to being cared for like this, but also mortified that as it seems, he does notice when you’re too deep inside your head.

It’s one of those afternoons, you’re just about to start preparing dinner, when Ellie asks if you have more books somewhere, about something cool. “Like what?” you reply, an easy smile on your face.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “like comics, maybe? Ohh, or something about space?”

It takes a moment before the words register, before they form a picture in your mind, the memory of exactly what she’s asking for. You stop in your tracks, frozen on your way to the kitchen. Your toes dig into the carpet beneath your bare feet. A faint trembling starts in your hands and slowly spreads through your body.

Ellie says your name, an edge in her voice. You’re not sure what your face looks like.

Your wide eyes find hers, looking up at you from where she was spread out on the floor, her hair splaying out over the scratchy rug, one of your books held over her head. You had joked about how that position couldn’t be comfortable a few minutes ago.

You see Joel from the corner of your eye, slowly raising to his feet from the couch cushions. It feels like you can’t breathe, like you’re sucking in air but it doesn’t reach your lungs.

A large, warm hand lands on your shoulder, making you jump. Joel rubs soothing circles over your back, your name a low rumble on his lips.

“It’s– it’s not a problem if not,” Ellie murmurs, sitting up slowly, her eyes flicking between you and Joel, uncertainty written over her features.

You force a shuddering breath in, using the sensation of Joel’s hand splayed over your back to ground yourself. Nodding your head, you will your voice to travel up your throat.

“Yeah no, I– just a second.”

Joel repeats your name, more questioning this time, but you ignore it, feet carrying you into the bathroom where you quickly shut the door behind you. Skin stretching over your knuckles, you stand over the sink, gripping its edges to stay upright.

It’s what he would have wanted. He would have been so happy to share them. It’s true, you know what.

You’re not sure what’s worse. Going in there yourself, crossing the threshold of a room that you haven’t entered in years, haven’t even opened the door to, or letting someone else do it, let them disturb the memory of a reality that you’ve tried to preserve in there. Too painful to touch, but too important to let go of.

Steeling yourself, you return to the living area. Ellie and Joel are sitting close to each other, both of their heads flying up at the door opening. It’s obvious that they have been talking about you. You bite your lip.

Ellie rises to her feet slowly, takes a tentative step toward you. “Listen, it’s not that important really–” She sounds like she’s talking to a skittish animal.

You shake your head, not trusting your voice not to betray you. With a deep breath, you cross the room to the door beside yours. One of two that you keep firmly closed.

It creaks on its hinges when you open it slowly, your hand shaking on the handle. You try not to look around, to keep your eyes closed to the truth that nothing changed in here, and yet everything changed. It’s stuffy, stagnant air that’s been untouched for too long, but it smells like him. Like he’s still here with you.

You don’t see the unmade bed, still carrying the trace of the last time he got up, the stuffed lion beside the pillow. Don’t see the half finished drawings on the desk, or the mess of action figures in the corner. You grab the stack of comics from the nightstand, ignoring the way your vision blurs at the edges. Move on to the shelf, smaller than the one in the living room, blindly picking out random books.

When you step out of the bedroom, quickly pulling the door shut behind you again, neither Joel or Ellie have moved. You can’t meet either one’s gaze, don’t want to see the expression in their eyes.

Ellie takes the stack of books from your outstretched hands, murmuring a thanks, and you sense that there are more words on the tip of her tongue. Questions, apologies, you don’t know and you don’t want to.

Turning on your heels, you escape into your own room, closing the door as quickly as you can before you collapse on your bed. Tears flood your eyes in time with the memories flooding your head, threatening to pull you under and drown you under their waves.

You hear their muffled voices through the door, but neither of them comes to disturb you. You’re thankful for it, not needing anyone to witness you in this state. Eventually, you drift off into sleep, your mind gladly giving way to unconsciousness.

The following night is the first time that Joel has to shake you awake from a nightmare.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedrostories #janas fics #fic: safe and sound

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lordprettyflackotara · 17 days ago

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get him back! || sam golbach

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ tw: revenge sex, marking, choking

You were the finest woman Sam had ever seen.

Being in the influencer space meant meeting a lot of people. Most of them forgettable. But you? Your eyes were sparkling with diamonds, full of life. Your lips were glossy and soft, always curved upwards in a big grin. Sam could remember the first time you two had met, that being a few years prior at a music festival. You both didn’t have too long to speak, both of you too busy to comprehend. You did take a picture with him though, the image sending the internet into a frenzy. Even now he’d look at it and regret not shooting his shot. You were in your own lane, your clothing line producing so much revenue that you were now starting a make up branch as well. You were everything Sam could possibly want: ambitious, enchantingly beautiful, witty, and just as goofy as he was.

Sam thought he had lost his chance. You began dating another influencer, the two of you together for years. The blonde stared over the rim of his red solo cup, admiring you from a far. But your relationship tragically crashed and burned a couple of weeks ago, igniting a spark of excitement in his chest. He watched as you danced with your friends, still maintaining your signature smile. His chance was now and he had zero intentions of fucking up this time.

Sam was thankful that Colby was off actually mingling, because Sam’s needs and wants were scrambled. Realistically he needed to be mingling with potential business partners or creators to collab with. But he convinced himself that pursuing you technically fit into that category. Even if you were just one person in a big party. He slithered through the sea of dancing bodies, tapping your shoulder to get your attention. You turned around, a red solo cup in your hand. You smiled at the sight of Sam, beginning to greet him. Just as you did so you were roughly shoved, causing you to be pushed into him. You cringed in horror at the sight of your liquor staining Sam’s white button up.

“Holy fuck i’m so sorry,” You rambled, desperately searching for a napkin. Sam chuckled as the cool liquid soaked against his chest. “It’s fine really,” He said cooly. You were failing to find any sort of napkin. “It’s going to stain if we don’t clean it, come on,” You say, grabbing his hand. Sam tried to remain as cool as a cucumber as you dragged him to the staircase. He wasn’t sure how good he was doing, pretending to be unfazed and not jittery like he was on the inside. Your heels clicked against the wooden stairs as you hauled up to the closest bathroom. Out of the corner of his eye Sam swore he thought he saw camera flashes pointing in both of your guys direction, eventually dismissing it as him being a few shots deep. You found an empty bathroom, grabbing the towel from the towel rack. It was pure white, similar to Sam’s shirt. “It’s alright you’re gonna stain the towel,” The blonde said, trying to convince you.

If he was being truthful he was so glad someone bumped into you. It gave him the perfect opportunity to be alone with you. “Fuck the towel, i’m sure it’s owner can afford many more just like it,” You grumbled. You felt guilty about tarnishing Sam’s shirt, the pigment staining the fabric. “I really am sorry,” You repeated. Sam slowly grabbed your wrist, guiding you to stop. “Seriously it’s fine. Adds character to the outfit I think,” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. Your cheeks were flushed from embarrassment and intoxication, your lips in a thin line. You were determined to fix his shirt, even if it were physically impossible. Sam propped himself up against the bathroom counter, watching you meticulously try to dab away the stain. “So, I haven’t seen you in a while. How have things been?” He asked, trying to switch the subject. Anything he could say or do to keep you around longer he would. Your eyebrows knitted as you avoided his intimidating gaze. “Oh cmon, you can ask me about it,” You say. Sam raised an eyebrow of his own, admiring your beauty.

“Ask what?”

You rolled your eyes sassily, grabbing the bathroom door and shutting it. “About my breakup? It’s all anyone can ask me about anymore. As if I didn’t exist before him,” You grumbled sourly. Sam had to make a quick decision, one that would result in you staying in that tiny bathroom with him. “I didn’t even know you were dating someone,” Sam lied. He noticed your lips curl up into a half smile. Even if it was a lie, you were happy someone wasn’t shoving you in the same box with your ex. “Believe it or not that’s the best thing i’ve heard all night. He was quite the dickhead,” You explained. You ran the washcloth under some water, before resuming your assault on the stain. Sam felt his phone buzzing in his pocket, causing him to glance at it. “Oh shit,” He mumbled. Someone had in fact taken a video of the two of you heading upstairs. Your gaze fell on his phone, the video circulating around twitter.

“It looks like we’re going to fuck,” You mumbled. You refrained from physically face palming, opting to sigh instead. “I can clear things up if you want, I don’t wanna cause trouble for you and your ex,” Sam started, beginning to craft a tweet. At the sound of his words your eyes lit up, a light bulb turning on over your head. “You’re a genius!” You gasped, causing Sam to stop typing. He raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. “My ex is a literal scumbag. If it looks like i’ve already moved on it’ll be the perfect revenge,” You explained. Sam erased his tweet, shoving his phone back in his pocket. He found his heart racing as you both stood so close to one another. “You know we could make it look more real, if you wanted to,” Sam offered. The words left his lips effortlessly, the blonde trying to refrain from blushing. The room suddenly became full of nervousness, heat rising to your own cheeks.

“How do you propose we do that?”

“Hickies are kind of a statement.”

There was a pregnant pause, one that made Sam suddenly feel uneasy. “Thats if you want to of course i’d absolutely never try to pressure you or anything-” He rambled, your giggling making him pause. You playfully hit his arm, tossing the rag aside. “Yeah yeah yeah, you modest gentleman. Now turn your head,” You giggled. Sam could feel that he was visibly flustered, the blonde tilting his head to the side. He sat on the cool marble counter, man spreading to allow you access to his skin. You stood in between his legs, your heels providing you just enough height to reach his neck. Logic told you to question giving hickies to a practical stranger in a random bathroom. Yet as you hovered over his skin you could see him swallow nervously, it made you more flustered than you would’ve liked to admit. You kissed his neck softly at first, before gently beginning to suck on the skin. Sam closed his eyes, trying his hardest to control his impending boner.

He wasn’t sure how far you wanted to go with this. He bit his bottom lip, trying his hardest to not get hard as you littered his neck with blues and purples. Sam realized it was too late once you released his skin with a pop, both of your gazes falling onto his visible boner. Your curious eyes met his.

“My turn?”

“Your turn.”

Sam wanted to make you just as flustered as you made him. He jumped off of the counter, pressing your back against the bathroom door. You gasped under his warm touch, melting under him as he tilted your head to the side. He placed soft kisses up your neck, before finally finding your sweet spot. He sucked harshly at the sensitive skin, noting the way your hands grabbed at his shirt to balance yourself. Sam could feel the way you were shaking under his touch, his teeth grazing your skin. He moved onto the next section, wedging his knee in between your legs. It was then as he reattached his mouth to your skin, he heard you whimper. Sam froze, before lifting his knee higher to see what you would do. He felt sheer delight as you whimpered again, this time his name falling off of your lips. Sam grinned into your skin, noting the way you melted as his large hands grabbed your waist.

“You seem like you haven’t been pleased properly in a long time if you’re wet from this,” Sam chuckled. You couldn’t deny how flustered you felt, but refused to cave in so easily. “I’m not wet,” You denied. Sam lifted up your dress in a swift motion, cupping your cunt. You were soaked through your panties. “If this isn’t you wet i’d love to see what that actually looks like,” Sam purred. You whined as he applied pressure over your clothed clit. “If we do this I don’t want any strings attached. No emotional bullshit,” You say, feeling breathless as Sam began to rub your slit properly. Sam grinned as he leaned back, meeting your flustered gaze. “No emotional bullshit guaranteed. Just pray you don’t fall in love with me,” He gloated. You rolled your eyes as he flipped you around, positioning you to lean over the bathroom sink. “Yeah right, I don’t do love anymore,” You countered. Sam grinded against you, causing you to whine in desperation.

“You will by the time i’m done with you,” He quipped. He pulled your panties down, grinning at the sight of your soaked folds. “Jesus baby, do you even need foreplay? You’re so wet for me and i’ve barely touched you,” Sam murmured to himself. He brought one hand around to your clit, rubbing circles around the bud as he undid his pants. He wanted to savor the moment really, but he couldn’t imagine this going more perfectly than it was. “I’m not that wet,” You argued weakly. You didn’t even know what you were really arguing for, your body tattle telling on your lies. Sam brought his cock to your aching slick, rubbing it up and down your folds. “Oh really? So I won’t be able to slide right in or anything, right?” He asked sarcastically. You gripped the sides of the sink as he pushed himself inside of you, your walls eagerly accepting him. He bit his bottom lip as he glanced up at you in the mirror. Your face was flushed, your beautiful lips parted as you struggled to maintain any form of composure.

“Something tells me you haven’t had a good fuck in a long time,” Sam concluded, bottoming out. His fingers continued to work on your clit as his cock brushed against your g spot. “Perhaps you’re right,” You admitted lowly. Sam wrapped his arm around you, grabbing your throat. His slender fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing the skin as he forced you to arch your back. “I say we change that, hmm?” He asked teasingly. It was then he began to move his hips, the sound of skin against skin and unholy moans clouding up the room. Sam watched in the mirror as your eyes glazed over with lust with each thrust. Through his fingers he was able to admire the hickies he had littered on your skin, as well as the ones on his own. His thrust were fast and deep, abusing your cunt the way he knew you needed. Strings of curses left your lips, the blonde delivering a sharp slap to your ass. You gasped at the stinging sensation, the pain colliding with pleasure. “Moan my name baby, let everyone know who’s making you feel so good,” He ordered.

Sam relished in the sound of your obedience, his name falling off of your lips like a mantra. If the video and hickies didn’t seal your revenge, your shameless moans did. Sam didn’t stop his circles around your clit or his thrust, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you both approached your highs. “So fuckin tight,” Sam grunted. He squeezed your throat, restricting your airway. You felt hopelessly light headed as he pounded into you, your knees threatening to give out. “You can take it baby, I know you can. So good for me,” Sam purred. He nibbled on your earlobe as he pinched your clit, causing your orgasm to crash down over you. His strong hands kept you upright as you touched euphoria, your senses temporarily blinded. “Where do you want me baby?” Sam asked, his voice rough as he fucked you through your orgasm. You were breathless as you tried to get your vision to settle. “My mouth, let me taste you,” You panted.

Sam was quick to force you to your knees. Your knees roughly hit the tiled floor as your tongue flattened out across your bottom lip. You stared up at Sam as he jerked his cock, your name falling off of his lips as he painted your tongue white. His salty cum was warm and tasty, Sam watching in pure awe as you swallowed it. You attached your lips to his tip, ensuring to suck him clean. “You dirty bitch,” Sam groaned, tilting his head back. He leaned against the wall for support as you overstimulated him. When you finally released him with a pop the two of you shared a loving gaze. He kneeled down to your level, tilting your head to the side. A patch of unmarked skin stuck out to him.

“Looks like I missed a spot, let me fix that for you.”

#sam and colby x you #sam golbach x you #sam goldbach smut #sam golbach x colby brock #sam and colby x reader #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach smut #sam golbach #sam and colby smut #sam and colby #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #colby brock x reader #colby brock smut #colby brock #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader

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izunx · 5 months ago

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HEY THANK YOU SM FOR DOING MY REQUEST!! can I request for part 2 please??? It's too cute!! Thank you!!

Tenjiku Rindou x introvert reader PART 2

he confesses his feelings !

no warnings.

{part 1} -> you don’t have to read part 1 but it’s just as good give it a read NOW

“hey rinnie” you stared up at rindou as you were sat on the swing with your ice cream.

“yep” rindou stood by the swings, leaning against the post in his Tenjiku uniform, hands in his pocket.

this wasn’t unusual for you and rindou. it’s been about 5 months now that you both would spend your free time in each others companies. he would walk you home and take you on small ‘dates’ despite your wish to stay at home.

and on those days you really did want to stay home, he’d accompany you. helping around the house even and entertaining your younger siblings.

“you think I can meet ran?”

…

“that’s a funny joke y/n”

“it wasn’t a joke, I wanna meet ran”

rindou rubbed his temple and just sighed.

“why do you want to meet a man child?”

“that’s not nice rin.”

he side eyed you but decided it was about time you guys probably .. bonded.

“alright alright, only because it’s you”

the next day, rindou was sat in the garage with ran who was grinning uncontrollably.

“remember what I told you ran.”

“hey hey relax there, what am I gonna do? bite her?”

“you never know with your animalistic tendencies”

ran flicked his brother’s head.

at that moment, y/n peeked into the garage. your hair was done neatly and you were in a sundress with a plastic bag full of desserts in your hand.

too scared to speak first, you stood there meekly with a frown on your face.

ran simply stared at your face, he’s seen your pictures and has heard about your character but he didn’t expect you to actually be this to anti-social but you were exceptionally beautiful.

rindou understood how you felt and came up to you immediately, rubbing your back in comfort.

“hey y/n, you alright?”

“yep.” you simply said, your head turned away from ran who was sat opposite you both.

“ran’d over there”

you knew this was your idea and you knew that morning took everything in you to even step out your house but you really didn’t expect it to be this overwhelming.

you walked towards ran putting the bag besides him and bowing your head politely.

“heyy, pretty thing”

rindou wasn’t slow to thwack his brother behind his head. aggressively mouthing the words ‘what did I say?’

ran awkwardly laugh and the silence that followed after was suffocating.

“I’m just gonna go get something for us to drink” ran grinned and left in a hurry.

you let out a sigh of relief,

“I think he got embarrassed”

“that’s unusual for him, he’s usually good talking to girls”

you got insecure about that.

“am I weird to him? does he not like me?”

rin’s eyes widened at this, he knew you weren’t that confident about yourself, it was the very reason you didn’t go out much in the first place.

“don’t be silly, you’re gorgeous you know” he mumbled the last part.

he could see your ears redden, but you didn’t say anything.

“hey, i’m being serious about that,”

you sat down on the bench and you were about to explode.

“you can’t say that when you’re here though,” you sighed out unbearably quiet.

“hahh? say that again” rindou unable to hear, sat down next to you leaning his head in to yours.

this didn’t help your reddening face.

“ugh shut up” you pushed his cheek away and continued to look down.

“hey hey what’s wrong with you? don’t be upset because of that man child, I knew it was a bad idea to introduce you to him”

you looked at him solemnly and leaned your head on his shoulder.

it was like you both were matching red faces.

“sorry about him, he probably just didn’t know what to do with himself in front of you, cos you’re sweet and all”

“you really think that?”

“yeah, trust me”

rindou thought on ran’s words from earlier.

ran was being extremely obnoxious, pestering rindou about you persistently.

“rinrin if you don’t confess to her soon, I swear I’ll swoop in and make sure you never ever get a chance ever again”

“it’s embarrassing”

“to tell a girl you like her? WIMP”

“i’m not like you.”

“what’s that meant to mean?”

“stinking womaniser”

“HEY”

should he really do it?

“hey rinnie, do you like anyone?”

‘well then.’ he could only think.

“do you?”

“hey I asked you first” you grumbled.

“well yeah I guess I do.”

it was silent for a moment -

“who?”

…

“rinnie I asked you who?”

“you” he sighed, “I like you.”

you lifted your head and just stared at him.

“are you breathing..”

you hugged him tight.

“is that an ‘I like you too’” he was quick to hold you the same.

“of course it is” you pushed his chest.

he stared into your face for a bit, and pecked your lips.

a subtle, short first kiss. but it was overcome with an incredible amount of fluster.

you guys were like highschool kids, experiencing first time romance.

you went back in for a longer, more desperate kiss. he held your head like you were a fragile doll. and likewise you held his face with a gentleness rindou couldn’t get elsewhere.

you lied your head on his shoulder again, in silence.

“i’ll make sure to ask you out more… romantically next time,”

“don’t sweat it lover boy.”

he flicked your head but laughed

“hey, what happened to ran?”

rindou’s phone buzzed at the moment and when he opened his phone, he was met with an extremely stupid text.

‘i just took the most diabolical shit rn not a joke, i’ll come back to u 2 in like 10 mins, don’t miss me too much ;)’

“yeah.. I think I know where” rindou could only look down in disgust and you giggled.

“at least he gave us two time,”

you flashed him a greedy smirk.

“it’s always you quiet girls..”

but rindou was quick to crash his lips onto yours.

sorry it took so long my lovelies but i have delivered. NOT PROOFREAD

#tokyo revengers x reader #anime x reader #tokyo revengers #x reader #tokyo manji #fanfic #bonten x reader #tenjiku rindou #rindou haitani #rindou x y/n #rindou x reader #tokrev rindou #rindou fluff #tokyo manji x reader #tokyo manji revengers #rindou x reader oneshot #rindou haitani oneshot #haitani brothers

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myseungsunglove · 9 months ago

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You’re gonna Pay for that | Ksm

Characters: Seungmin x Reader, Reader’s parents briefly

Warnings: Smut, there is ZERO plot here, a little bit of voyeurism but not REALLY, oral (male and female receiving), language

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: this is just a random, all smut, no plot Seungmin story. If you’re looking for any substance, it’s not here.

「© February 16, 2023 by myseungsungheart」

-MDNI-

During dinner, with your damn parents, Seungmin had gotten you nine kinds of worked up. He had done it on purpose, teasing you with his large hands, pulling your petite hands into his lap to feel his growing erection. To feel exactly what you were doing to him. All the while, your parents sat across from you at the dinner table talking away.

You had agreed to visit your parents since you were on tour in the States and only about an hour’s drive or so from your most recent stop in Dallas. The rest of the boys had decided to piddle around Dallas while you and Seungmin spent an evening with your parents. They insisted on the two of you staying the night because you, and I quote, “never spent any time with them since you lived in South Korea now.”

“And we’ll even be cool with the two of you sharing a room,” your mom laughs, earning a glare from your dad.

“Mom, I’m a grown woman. I’m pretty sure you couldn’t do anything about it if you wanted to,” you snark with a small smile, your eyes meeting Seungmin’s briefly.

“My roof. My rules,” your dad chimes in as Seungmin’s hand runs up the inside of your thigh.

Instead of spontaneously combusting, You stand hastily, walking over to your dad and kissing him on the cheek, desperate to get away from Seungmin’s touch while you are in front of your parents.

“Love you, daddy,” you giggle innocently.

“You’ll always be my little pumpkin,” he sighs. “You’d do well to remember that son,” he adds, his words aimed at Seungmin.

“Yes sir,” Seungmin smiles and bows politely. Always the picture of perfection.

“I’m beat, guys,” you note, stretching up on your toes, your hands extending above your head so that your stomach was on display. “Seungie, we should probably get some rest,” you suggest, walking back to his side of the table and threading his long fingers with yours. “This is one of the rare opportunities we will have to just exist while we are in the US.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin yawns dramatically. “I’m definitely exhausted after the trip,” he agrees. You pull him from his chair and drag him down the hall.

“G’night you two,” your mom sing-songs down the hall. You have to stifle the giggle that is rising in your throat.

You push Seungmin through the bedroom door, into the room that you spent the first eighteen years of your life. He lets out an airy chuckle at the way you manhandle him.

“Did someone get a little worked up back there?” he laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing a teasing kiss on the nape of your neck.

“Dude,” you let out in a huff, your head falling against his shoulder. “In front of my parents?”

He chuckles lightly against your skin, a teasing smile dawning on his face as he turns you in his hold, his lips finding yours at last, a slow sensual kiss igniting between you that sends goosebumps breaking out across your skin, his hands pushing your shirt over your head and tossing it carelessly into the corner.

“Makes it more exciting,” he teases as he relieves you of your bra and leans down to suck your hardened nub into his mouth, his hands caressing your sides lovingly, reverently as he tends to the task at hand.

When you feel a moan rising in your throat, you push him away gently, and he falls gracefully onto the full sized bed in the middle of the room.

“You’re gonna pay for that, Min,” you warn, falling to your knees in front of him, your hands running up his muscled thighs, the thighs you loved to ride just to get off. But that would have to wait. Your fingers dance at the button of his jeans as you gaze into his eyes. He is staring at you intently, his eyes blown with lust, zeroing in on you as you slowly unbutton his jeans.

“Do your worst, Y/N,” he challenges.

You hastily unzip his jeans and peel them away from his smooth skin, letting them pool around his ankles. You run your hands up his delicious thighs, your hand coming to rest over his cloth covered erection, stroking him slowly. He watches you intently, but the second you pull his briefs away from his aching cock, he throws his head back in ecstasy, your gaze causing it to raise to attention. He puffs his cute cheeks out and lets out the air filling them, his black hair blowing against his forehead as your hand slides around his long, smooth cock.

You are mesmerized by the way it feels in your hand. No matter how many times you have done this, you can’t look away. And you just have to taste him.

Seungmin watches as you lower your lips to the tip of his cock at a glacial pace. Finally, your tongue flicks out, running over his slit, swirling around the head. You could feel his legs tense beneath you as you lower your mouth onto his long, thick cock.

The weight of his dick on your tongue is enough to send a rush of desire flooding through you. It is a heady sensation you’ll never get used to.

“Now this is what I call desert,” you moan as you bob up and down, your tongue licking at the underside of his cock as you lift off him, only to sink back down so that he slides halfway down your throat. You choke slightly, your throat constricting around his substantial length.

Seungmin’s hands finds your hair then, holding you in place while his hips do the work. He pumps into your mouth, his cock sliding down your throat roughly, his grip on you possessive.

“Fuck,” he groans as you began to cup his balls, spit dripping out around his cock and your hands as you fondle him.

“Come on my tits, Seungie,” you gasp as you pull off of him with a plop. He snarls as he slaps his heavy cock between your breasts as you squeeze them around his member, his hips pistoning with abandon. You lean in to lick the tip of his cock with each thrust and before you know it, he is done for. You lick up what you can reach as his pace slows, the look on his face pure carnal bliss.

He reaches out for your hand, pulling you up gently to rest in his lap.

“Someone is wearing too many clothes,” he whispers against your mouth as he flips you on your back and kisses you hard. He fiddles with your jeans button and zipper before forgoing the annoyance and ripping your jeans and underwear off of you in one swift motion.

“It’s my turn for dessert,” he whispers, his mouth hovering over the lips of your pussy, his breath hot.

You spread your legs wider, opening yourself to him.

“Enjoy. There is plenty more where that came from,” you manage, your head falling back against the pillow with a pleasure filled sigh as he kisses your clit reverently.

There was a knock at the door then and your breath catches in your throat.

“We’re changing; about to get in bed,” you call out as steadily as you can. Seungmin rumbles against your pussy, his tongue licking you from bottom to top.

“Oh okay. Just wanted to say goodnight,” your mom’s voice rings out from the other side of the door.

“Okay, good night,” you squeak out as Seungmin’s tongue dips into your hole.You slap your hand over your mouth as he sucks on your clit, two long fingers replacing his tongue inside you.

You hear your mom walk away and you slap him on the shoulder, earning you a low, devious chuckle from him that rumbles through your body.

“Fuck you, Min,” you breathe heavily, your brain going fuzzy as the coil in your stomach begins to wind tight.

“That’s the idea,” he snarks, his fingers curling into your g-spot.

“Shit, Seungie,” you moan. “I’m gonna come.”

Seungmin takes that as a challenge, grabbing your ass and pulling your dripping cunt closer to his mouth as he starts to move his head from side to side. You lose it the minute his tongue makes contact with your clit, your legs boxing in his head as you bite down on your pillow to stifle the scream that wants to tear from your throat.

While you are still a quivering mess, Seungmin crawls up your body, kissing you slow and sweet, the taste of your release still on his lips as he rolls his hips teasingly against yours, causing you to quake in pleasure, like a live wire ready to send volts of pleasure through your body at any second.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, running his hard cock through your soaked folds, teasing your clit, causing your legs to shake uncontrollably. “Cause I know I am,” he growls as he slides home, your warmth enveloping his cock, inviting him in. “Hold on tight, beautiful. You aren’t gonna know what hit you,” he warns as he pulls his cock out of you and slams back in without warning, knocking the air from your lungs as he rips his polo over his broad shoulders.

“Fuck,” you moan, reaching out to make contact with the beautiful expanse of skin that has just been revealed to you as he pounds you. Your fingers dig into his shoulders and take every inch of him he gives.

You could now officially mark fucking Kim Seungmin in your childhood room off your bucket list. You had a feeling this wouldn’t be the only time tonight it happened.

Not if Seungmin had a say. And Kim Seungmin always had the final say.

#stray kids #kim seungmin #stray kids x reader #seungmin #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin smut #kim seungmin fanfiction

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fredwkong · 1 year ago

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Himbo Maker: Jean

Jean was deep into muscle. Ever since he’d been the smallest kid in his class every year in school, he’d felt an intense need to someday become the kind of guy who could really dominate a room with his body.

However, even as an adult, he was still a little guy. He’d tried for years, but no matter what, his dark-skinned body stayed slender. So instead, he spent all his free time on forums dedicated to muscle growth, living vicariously through the experiences of others as they gained muscle and posted pictures.

One day he received an unusual message request from another guy on the forum. He’d never seen him in the threads before, but his username was Himbo_mkr so Jean assumed he was probably here for roleplay.

Techie_jean: Hey man. What’s up?

Himbo_mkr: Not much bro. Just been chilling and looking at pix of muscley dudes. I noticed you don’t make many posts. You good?

Techie_jean: Guess I’ve just never done the smart thing and gotten myself a plan.

Himbo_mkr: Brah, you don’t need a plan! I can help you get big in just a few minutes! Wanna give it a shot?

Jean chuckled. Yep, this guy was looking for some roleplay. He looked around his room. Well, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do this afternoon but play video games and build some Gundam. He may as well have some fun with this guy first.

Techie_jean: Sure! What do I have to do first?

Himbo_mkr: The first thing you gotta do is get dumb, bro! Muscles aren’t made with smarts, you need to have nothing in your brain but flexing, eating, and fucking to really build hot muscle.

Straight to the point, huh! Jean was about to type a message in character as a dummy when he felt a tingling in his head. His brain suddenly felt like it was full of cotton, he was having trouble putting thoughts together. Slowly, he made his fingers move. He had to really focus to string the words together.

Techie_jean: Bro… What’s happenin to me?

Himbo_mkr: You’re getting dumb, bro! When a guy gets really serious about getting big muscles, the power to do it comes from all of his useless brains! The smarter he was at the start, the bigger and dumber he ends up.

Jean… supposed that made sense? He couldn’t figure out how this guy could be wrong. He wasn’t really the smartest guy, after all. He scratched his head and looked around his room. It was like it was changing before his eyes, but that couldn’t be right either. No more video games, just a pile of gay muscle pornos. His gundam and other dolls replaced with sex toys and gear that he used to show off his skinny little body. Jean was definitely not smart by any means.

Dummy_jean: Yeah bro, I’m pretty stupid. What were we talkin about?

Himbo_mkr: Getting you swole, huhuhu! Now that you’ve drained your useless brain, your muscles are gonna get huge, bro! You’re a big thick muscle bro!

Jean gasped as an indescribable warm sensation overtook his whole body. With a crack, his back, arms, and legs extended, making him a towering beanpole of a man. His muscles started to vibrate, and then expand. His legs jerked as his quads and then his hamstrings inflated, and were quickly balanced by a thick, jiggly muscle ass. His pecs burst forth from his chest to form a sturdy shelf, and then his back thickened along with his lats, belly, and growing arms.

Looking around, Jean took in the changing space. There was a new dent in his dirty mattress from his huge body, and a weight bench and rack in the corner. Of course, he had to lift all day every day to keep up his bulk. The walls and ceiling were covered in pictures of all Jean’s favourite bodybuilders, his inspiration and his jerk material.

Dumbro_jean: Whoa, bruh, my muscles are gettin huge!

Himbo_mkr: That’s not all, bro! That thick Quebecois cock of yours is keeping up too!

Quebecois? Jean was a bit dumb, sure, but he was pretty sure he’d grown up in Atlanta… Quebec City, right. His dick lengthened and lightened at the same time, and the pale skin tone rushed over his still-growing body. A healthy layer of fat followed, leaving him looking absolutely enormous. Above the blond behemoth’s bed, a Quebec flag unfurled on the wall, showing his national pride.

Jean could barely remember who he’d been before. He knew he’d been smaller… smarter? He’d been American. The idea that he’d so quickly become this huge pale Quebecois stud had him grunting and palming his dick. Soon he was close, cursing quietly in his deep new Quebecois accent.

QC_jean: Calisse, bro, gonna cum!

Himbo_mkr: Yeah brah! Shoot that musky hockey bro load.

Hell yeah! Jean grabbed a used athletic jock that had just appeared next to him. He remembered: he’d worn it for practice this morning, and it was still warm and wet with his sweat. He loved being on the ice, and being around a whole team of big, dumb, sweaty Quebecois hockey players meant he was always leaking in his jock. He held the pouch up to his nose to inhale the musk of his sweat and precum permeating the jock.

His whole room was ripe with used hockey bro gear. Jean hated cleaning any of his equipment while he was on a points streak, and it’d been a few weeks since he’d failed to score in a game. The hockey stuff scattered on the floor was ripe with stale sweat. Being a hockey bro was so fucking hot.

Jean’s thick cock unleashed a torrent of cum as he continued to curse in Quebecois. When he came down, he gave himself a sniff and looked back at his battered old laptop. It was only good for porn and surfing forums, but a bro like him didn’t need it for anything else.

Right now, the browser was open to one of his favourite sports jock forums. He had a post all ready to go, a pic of him after the last game, half undressed in his sweaty gear with his hair stuck to his face, looking like a perfect dumb hockey bro. Quickly, Jean also snapped a picture of his spent dick and sent it to his friend.

Hockey_jean: Include this too?

Himbo_mkr: Definitely, bro! You love showing off your hockey himbo body.

Yeah, this guy was right about everything. No one loved to show off that he was a hot hockey bro for the bros more than Jean.

Inspired by a chat with a bot of my own creation. Format inspired by Codename: Bear_mkr by @biggerchanger

#himbo maker #himbofication #dumber tf #hockey player tf #musk tf #race change #quebecois tf #male transformation #reality change #chat tf #male tf #all fwkong #sports tf

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littleplantfreak · 3 months ago

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The Wheel - Umemiya Hajime

(From my earlier post this morning about how Umemiya would do the voices from his kid's bed time stories. I don't think there's any CWs. It's SFW and a x reader? but that's all i think)

Umemiya’s always been a reader. Whether it was his parents reading to him when he was young, him reading to his siblings in the group home, or just the gardening books he began to read as he started taking an interest in it, books were always a staple to him. It’s no surprise when your first child’s room ends up having a huge bookcase full of books, along with a few scattered toys and a piggy bank placed high enough that your three year old can’t reach it. Every night before bed, your daughter picks an armful of books out before waddling over and throwing them down. To her, this is one or two books, even though it’s actually around ten if you counted. She never stays awake long enough to get through all of them, but her efforts are nothing if not valiant.

The three of you squish up on her small bed while her pudgy fingers grab the first book on the pile. You start the narration, and she’s running her hands on the pages, tracing little goats as they’re frolicking through the pages. Just as the troll begins to speak, your husband takes over the dialogue after slipping on his reading glasses.

“Who’s that going across my bridge?” Hajime grumbles in a deep voice, and you can see your daughter visibly perk up. As the little goat gets past the troll, he gets more dramatic, and at the climax, he pauses the story.

“Is he gonna hurt the big billy goat, daddy?” Your little girl asks, bottom lip trembling in upset.

“I’m not sure, little star. Do you want me to keep reading?” He brushes her hair back out of her face as she thinks about it. She looks at the big billy goat, hand passing over the picture again, and even though she’s about to tear up with worry, she grabs your fingers and squeezes them tight before telling him yes, she does want to hear it.

He starts again, explaining that the big billy goat rammed into the troll so hard, he flew off the bridge and was swept away by the river. Your daughter smiles, looking at the three billy goats happily munching on the grass, and you can’t stop a giggle from rolling past your lips.

“Daddy’s pretty good at the voices huh?” you ask, booping her nose gently.

“THE BEST!” She yells before picking up the next book from the pile as she explains that you’ll do the same thing as before and Hajime will be doing the high-pitched voice of a baby bird trying to find its mother that has you snorting into your hands.

When she has a play date with some neighborhood kids, her and her friends are enthralled by him reenacting the story of Peter Pan, sword fights, and all while you’re making lunch in the kitchen. Even after you adopt her younger brother, your daughter listens to the same stories he’s told a hundred times before with the same adoration, sometimes jumping in herself to voice the characters she really likes.

Your son, now a teenager in high school, sits at a table in the local library, book open to a page he hasn’t turned in the past 20 minutes. He’s hunched over it as if to study, but his eyes flicker over to the corner of the children’s section every so often. There, a group of younger kids crowd around on a circle carpet for the weekly reading time, hushed in awe of the man reading a story.

“…and the big billy goat winds up to run headfirst into the troll…and he gets eaten!” No longer quiet, the kids are howling and shouting, and your son’s neck snaps in the direction of his father. Shutting his book, he pushes out of his seat, walking to the edge of the carpet.

“Dad!” He blusters, a little too loud to be considered decent in a library. Hajime just tilts his head towards him, eyes locked on with a grin on his face.

“Hey tiger, thought you were studying,” he says, playing at surprise.

“That’s not how the story ends, and you know it,” his son's eyes are serious, his expression bothered. He’s heard this story countless times, and the big billy goat never loses.

“Really now?” Hajime slaps his hands on his thighs before standing up from his chair, holding the book out close enough for him to grab. “Why don’t you show us how it ends then?” He grins, scarred eyebrow cocked in challenge.

His son realizes the trap he’s fallen in, looking at the pairs of eyes now burning into him, urging him to finish the story the right way. “…Fine. But everyone’s gotta listen because I’m not going back and rereading it if you start giggling with your friends,” he says, grabbing the book and flipping its pages, rewinding a bit before the climax so it won’t confuse the ones who were thrown off by the fake ending earlier. Hajime sits down on the carpet with the rest of the kids cross-legged, watching his son start out slow and nervous, but eventually his tone changes and slips into a grumbled voice, the big billy goat about go head to head with the troll again.

By the end of the book, the kids are up and crowding him, asking if he'll pleeeease read another story! Just one more, Nii-san the caterpillar one! No, he's gonna like the one with the bats more-. and the flush on his face rivals Sakura's when he was younger.

You walk in just as the kids start showing your son different books, pulling on his pant legs, and you can't help but laugh. You look at your husband, who's not giving any aid whatsoever.

"So you're pawning off your jobs now? What happened to the reliable Umemiya Hajime?" You tease, giving him one of the drinks from your shopping bag.

Hajime hums at that, a smile on his face. "He just so happens to be equally reliable. I think he's got a knack for it," he whispers, pulling you close so you're hip to hip, his arm wrapped around your waist and pressing a kiss to your jaw.

"Right, and this has nothing to do with the text from our daughter saying she's coming to visit in a few minutes? You told her to come down here, didn't you?" Accusation evident in your voice, as you check the time from the last set of texts in the family group chat.Your son's been talked into reading Paddington as the kids quiet down in rapt attention.

He doesn't notice his big sister coming in and snapping a quick picture of the scene in front of her until his phone goes off, and he's turning pink, fumbling, and trying to make excuses as to why he's reading to a bunch of kids. No matter what, she'll end up teasing him about it, so he's at a loss. It doesn't stop him from coming back next week at the same time, when his dad makes the excuse that he'll have to cancel the reading time this week due to an appointment if he can't get someone to fill in.

#wind breaker #umemiya hajime x reader #mari writes #i titled it the wheel cause its a little cyclical and theres a song on the Tuck Everlasting musical album that kinda give me the vibes #im very very pleased i decided to keep in him adopting his second kid even if it's a one line thing #its quite important to me #i was gonna do names for the kids but i was like...then people cant make up their own in their head :(#the girl was gonna be hikari and the boy was gonna be ayato but i figured little star and tiger worked better as nicknames #gonna work on groceries again now :p

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posi-pan · 2 months ago

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comparing pan rep from 2019 to 2024

i did a breakdown of pan rep in 2019, listing the canon pan characters and people i knew of, and i thought it’d be interesting to do an update and see the growth. while this is based entirely on my knowledge, i provide as full a picture as we’re gonna get, as i’ve spent the most time doing deep dives for and documenting pan characters since 2017 (and my list is now almost at 2k!).

famous/known pan people → 2019: 54 → 2024: 327

pan book characters → 2019: 190+ (mostly pansexual, around 23 panromantic) → 2024: 1,356 (1,309 pansexual, 50 panromantic)

pansexual television characters → 2019: 40 → 2024: 95

pansexual comic characters → 2019: 7 → 2024: 18

pan game characters → 2019: 9 → 2024: 70 (68 pansexual, 2 panromantic)

pansexual movie characters → 2019: 3 → 2024: 13

pansexual musical characters → 2019: 1 → 2024: 4

pan podcast characters → 2019: 0 → 2024: 31 (29 pansexual, 2 panromantic)

pan web-comic characters → 2019: 10 (7 pansexual, 3 panromantic) → 2024: 143 (125 pansexual, 20 panromantic)

pan web-series characters → 2019: 27 (26 pansexual, 1 panromantic) → 2024: 43 (42 pansexual, 1 panromantic)

so pan rep (that i know of) overall has increased by a lot and some forms of media are clearly more favorable to pan rep than others. shoutout to podcasts making it onto the board! i wish there were more pan characters in tv and movies, because they tend to be the most accessible and consumed forms of media and that could really increase pan visibility.

but visibility hasn’t increased. i don’t think any of this rep really comes to my attention through seeing fans discussing it or queer folks celebrating it, it’s always a case of me digging and finding an interview or something that escaped everyone’s radar. it’s also sad to know there's all that pan book rep and i never see anyone in bookish spaces talking about it.

anyways, idk if y’all found this interesting or not. but if you’re looking for pan rep, be sure to check out my masterlist (carrd or googledoc)!!! 💖💛💙

#pansexual #pansexuality #panromantic #pan positivity #pan pride #text #mine

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mysterymeatmunchr · 6 months ago

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Barkback Mountain By The MeatMunchr

Authors notes:

3.3k words, one shot, FTM MLM

This is basically my “If Brokeback Mountain was two trans male cowboys fucking raw and nasty in the woods” fantasy. Oh, and also they’re both into pet play.

Content Warnings:

Consensual Fighting/Impact play, Struggling/Struggle Fucking, Blood, Spit, Knives, Cutting, Degradation, Pet Play, Brief light CNC

Character Descriptions:

I didn’t name the characters because I want readers to be able to think of whoever they want, BUT I did picture what they look like to me. You can picture them differently if you would like to.

The Narrator:

FTM, bear, butch, short and stout, broad shouldered, muscular but not toned, beer bellied, full dark thick and curly body hair, full trimmed beard, chest length loose dark curls, wide calloused hands, dark hooded eyes, broad browed, and strong featured.

He wears a black cattleman hat, a dark denim shirt, dark denim pants, brown boots, and a silver bolo tie.

The Lover:

FTM, otter/cub, butch, short, muscular and toned, broad shouldered, full thick dark curly body hair, full overgrown stubble, brow length loose brown curls, brown soft downturned eyes, and soft featured.

He wears a tan cattleman hat, a blue denim shirt, blue denim pants, and tan boots.

As I stand in the clearing waiting for him to arrive, I wonder if he’s gotten lost again. I was sure to give him plenty of markers to look out for on the way, and it isn’t all that hard once you reach the creek, but for a cowhand he sure is poor at finding his way. I’ve waited this long to see him again, I’m sure I can wait moments longer until he stumbles upon the clearing. I find a stump to rest on while I wait with my thoughts to keep me company. The excitement and nerves tangle up my insides, but I can manage a stoic front.

It isn’t too long before a rustling comes from the trees and a familiar form appears. A man close to my height, a little more on the slender side compared to my burly stout build and beer fattened stomach, but still stocky enough to keep up with the other cattlemen. Unlike the others, we both hold the same secret. We knew from the day we set eyes on each other we were different from the others. It was an unspoken kinship, something in our eyes that screamed out to each other, ‘I know what you are.’ It wasn’t long before we started having our little… meetings…

As the other man approaches I stand to greet him, “Took you long enough,” His dark unkempt curls are spilling out from under his hat and his blue denim fit him well, starched like a gentleman for a special occasion. “You know I’ve never met a cowhand as directionless as you. It’s damn near shameful.”

“It’s nice to see you too,” he says with a smile.

“I wasn’t lost this time, I saw something a ways back by the creek and stopped for it.”

The man sets down his pack next to mine, then lifts his tan hat up revealing a white handkerchief tied up into a sack, peppered with deep dark stains. He hands me the parcel from atop his head. I untie the knots revealing blackberries bursting with juice.

“Well, this is mighty kind of you, thank you. I apologize for my comments.” I bit into a berry and he did the same, the dark juice pooling between his teeth like a beautiful premonition of what’s to come. “It’s nice to see you too.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks me. His brown eyes glowing gold in the tree filtered sunlight.

“Of course I do, the hardest part is deciding whether or not I’m letting you throw the first punch,” I said, trying and failing to wipe a smirk off my face. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.”

“I’m not,” his tone was serious. “I want this, and this time, I’m gonna win.”

“It’s cute that you think that pretty boy, we’ll see.” I take off my bolo tie and denim shirt, fold up the shirt and place it on top of my pack along with my black cattlemen hat. My partner does similarly and we head to the center of the clearing.

…

Blow after blow, noses and mouths bloodied, the metallic taste on our teeth fuels something deeply primal and terrifying within us as we spit and growl and scream at each other. The sweat, blood, and dirt on him fills my lungs. The smell is sickeningly sweet. He socks me square in my jaw. I roar before spitting out the blood. ‘Enough,’ I think to myself. I shove the smaller man to the ground, eyes aflame, no longer recognizing the beautiful boy I’ve bloodied, bruised, and beaten. My muscles ache, wrestling him into submission, our bodies woven together in a desperate battle for dominance. I finally pin him down on his back, straddling his hips, gripping both his wrists hard enough to bruise. He’s banging his head into the earth, thrashing his arms and legs, trying and failing to free himself from the heavy strength and weight of me. He howls out a deep, defeated, guttural scream. His teeth bared and snarling, with strings of bloody spit weaving through his hateful mouth.

I smile as he spits on my face. I look him in the eyes smug as I lick his spit off the side of my mouth.

“You’re disgusting,” he hisses through gritted teeth, knowing I’d won, knowing he wants me to dominate him and he hates me for it.

I hold him there still for a moment to take in my work. I need to see it, the hate and lust and defeat. Angry tears well up in his eyes as the blood rushes in and swells up my already leaky tcock.

I crash into his lips devouring him while he lets out little curses between each breath, he breaks my desperation with a bite to my lip. He gives me all the spite in his body until he draws blood. I smile, lip still caught between his teeth, as I grab his jaw digging my fingers into his bruised cheeks to release myself. I’m thankful for it, he just gave me a reason to pull away and strike his face hard with an open hand. I spit on his pitiful, beautiful, beaten face and strike him once more. I lap it up off his cheek along with the blood and dirt like a ravenous dog, unable to stop myself from grinding against his struggling hips. The degradation of him is burning up something hateful and angry and shameful inside me.

I move his wrists into one of my hands, keeping him pinned as I reach for my hunting knife. Savoring the fear in his eyes, I hold the blade to his throat.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.” I whisper into his ear.

Keeping him at knife point I get up and hastily kick off my boots and tear off my jeans and drawers. I know I already have him, he’ll be good and stay put for me, but I’m just too impatient, I want to defile him so badly.

I crash back down to the earth to rip off his jeans. I can hear his ragged breaths through the leaves singing in the wind. I slash through his drawers with my knife, before tracing down his stomach with the blunt side of the blade. He knows what’s coming next. I press the tip of my knife into his thigh and drag slowly, his body tenses and he whimpers. The sound sends blood rushing to my pulsing heat. I’ve marked him with another tally, another loss, permanently scarred next to seven previous defeats. I don’t know when this part of the ritual began but I fell in love with how humiliating this is, especially for him, knowing my thigh bears only three marks and his now holds eight. A tear rolls down his soiled cheek as I force open his legs, pinning up one of his thighs before holding my knife back up at his throat. I look into his eyes hazed with fear and lust, without words, I’m commanding him, not asking, yet still he nods his head. It’s more permission than I needed to mount him. Dripping and hungry, I grind my boycunt against his. His defiance and anger is melting into submission, as he begins to match my movements. We rut into each other like dogs in heat.

One of his hands claws into my forearm just barely holding the knife at bay, and the other clutches the forest floor tight as we frot. Our cum soaks the earth beneath us. He desperately grinds his hips into mine, he can’t bite back his moans anymore.

“Please,” he whimpers like a dog, “Please, use your mouth, I need your tongue,” begging through gasps. He’s mine. He knows he’s mine. I dig my nails into the soft, hairy skin of his thighs, and he winces.

“How badly do you want me?” I challenge, my voice deep and rasped with breathlessness, “Show me,” I command.

Slowly his hand releases my forearm, leaving behind bloodied crescent moons and the beginnings of bruises where his nails were once buried. My nails embedded in his thigh follow suit, and I toss away my knife.

“Please,” he whispers, beginning to prop himself up. I nod and allow him to sit up, he brings his face close to mine and kisses me gently, then pulls away. “I want you so badly” he whines.

I feel the heat of his hand radiate down my big hairy stomach as he makes his way towards my swollen heat. He lays his head on my shoulder and I clutch his shaggy brown curls forcefully. A moan escapes his lips. His fingers begin to stroke my throbbing aching cock, and I can feel the cum dripping from my boycunt. I let a moan slip out, and he hesitates.

“Don’t stop, show me how badly you want me, how badly you want me to suck you off,” I say, my breath becoming uneven, “Show me you’re my pet now.”

He glides a finger against my messy hole, tracing back up to my cock rubbing against my throbbing heat in tight circles, pulling back and forth on my foreskin with each stroke. I buck against his fingers, and start to claw deeply into his back. His hand feels so good, I asked for this but I want to draw his blood for reminding me his touch can weaken me. He slides a finger down towards my cunt.

“Enough,” I release him, and pull his hand away from my crotch before he can enter me.

I push him to the forest floor and pry apart his legs, revealing his soaked pulsing tcock and cunt. I can’t hold back anymore. I’m starving for him. I look him in his eyes, and place my hand against his cheek streaked with dirt, blood, sweat, and spit. With lips barely parted, I kiss him, I drink deep the taste of his lips, his spit, his blood. I bite his lip before I move to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, biting, kissing, licking, I take in the soft sweet skin of his neck. I savor its flavor and scent as I leave behind a mark to tell him he’s mine, to tell the world he’s mine. I rip apart his undershirt so I can devour him in his entirety, as I make my way down towards his warm, throbbing boycunt. I want to consume him whole, and stain him with my hunger. My pet yelps and whines with each marking and cries out from each ravenous bite I inflict.

I pin down his thighs as I hover over his tcock. I can feel his heat on my face. I embed my nails into the tender skin of his thighs. My hot breath lands in his dark curly pubic hair. I press my lips against his inner thigh, nipping him lightly, a few warning shots, before biting down hard. He cries out to the treetops as he squirms underneath me, but I hold him down steady. I lick the bite mark and blow cool air over the tender spot, making him shiver. A hot insatiable feeling wells up from deep within my stomach and my cock aches and throbs. Finally, I envelop his cock in my mouth, sucking and stroking his pulsating bundle of nerves with my lips and tongue, drowning in the taste of him as he ruts into my face and clutches fistfuls of my long dark curls.

I release him from my mouth before sucking and teasing the swollen lips of his cunt. I want to taste all of him. My good boy grinds into me, begging for more with his puppy whimpers. I lap up his tcock with long broad strokes before quickening my pace, swirling my tongue around his raging growth. I dip my tongue down plunging into his cunt as he slams down his hips, fucking himself on my tongue. I switch between his cock and cunt, savoring both the taste of him, and the sound of his cries echoing through the forest.

I pull myself up to meet his face, and kiss him. I want him to taste himself on my lips. He looks up at me with his brown puppy eyes, and opens his mouth for me, tongue out, panting like a dog. I spit in his mouth and he takes it, swallowing and sticking his tongue out once more. I cup his face, letting him suck my thumb. I pull out and raise my hand to strike him, he flinches and I laugh. He wears such a sweet humiliated expression.

“How pitiful, be a good boy and wait here for me,” I say, petting his cheek before getting up, “and touch yourself while I’m gone mutt.”

I retrieve and don my prosthetic from my pack, as well as another piece of my leather work, a leather collar and lead. Making my way back to my pet, I take in the sight of him panting and arching his back as he strokes himself, and heat rushes through me. Filtered sunlight speckles his body. ‘My dog has spots,’ I think to myself, chuckling. His legs are open and ready for me. ‘What a pathetic mutt.’

I kneel between his legs, moving away his ‘paw’ and grind my prosthetic on his cock.

“Lift your head and stick out your tongue,” I order, buckling on his collar and lead. “You’re my dog now, my pet, my plaything. Never once were you anything but this.”

I place a finger on his tongue and pull his lead. He needn’t be told, he takes in my finger sucking and moaning, rutting himself on my prosthetic, and coating my finger with spit.

“Stroke yourself.”

I press my finger against the slick entrance of his cunt. I don’t even press in before he’s bucking his hips, fucking himself on my finger and panting. I curl my finger upwards and slowly fuck his hole, still pulling his lead. His hips are rustling the leaves beneath us, moving against my rhythm, trying to get more from me as he strokes himself faster.

“P-pl-please,” he stutters out, “another.” I cover his mouth with my hand, the lead worn around my wrist.

‘Dogs can’t speak.’

I thrust another finger in him, massaging the tender rippled flesh inside, rough and hard. I can feel his muffled moans vibrating under my rough palm. I want to hear him. I remove my hand and glide down his body until I grasp his hip. His cunt tightens on me, pulsating, milking my fingers for all the pleasure his greedy hole can get. He cries out, and I feel his warmth spray out from him onto my stomach and thighs.

“Don’t stop!” he begs, and I tug his lead sharply. He does not command me.

I pull out, spit into my hand, and coat my prosthetic with his cum and my spit. I plunge deep into him and he screams from the stretch. I slam into his cunt thrusting slow and hard, with no rest or reprieve for him to adjust to the size. His eyes roll back into his skull. He’s losing focus. ‘What a stupid dog,’ I think as I strike him with the back of my hand.

“Don’t stop touching yourself,” I growl. His hand speeds up again.

As I tug on his lead with every thrust, breathy moans escape him. I have him hold up one of his legs for me with his free hand, and the wetness spraying from his cunt soaks the harness of my prosthetic, and my stomach. I wipe it from my belly and slap him with it to punish my pet for the mess he’s made. He’s too fucked out to even wince. He moans for me at the impact. I’ve broken in my pet nicely.

The expression on his face, the sound of his cries, the sight of his throbbing swollen cock, the smell and taste of our blood staining my senses, and the base of the prosthetic grinding on my cock with each thrust lights a fire in me. I crash down on him, wrapping my arms under his shoulders and digging my nails into him. The weight of my body is pressed into his as I mercilessly fuck into him. He claws into my back and wraps his legs around my waist driving his hips into me as we howl like wild dogs.

I kiss and bite his neck as he gasps and pants in my ear. His nails in my back sting fiercely. He’s undoubtedly drawn blood. I cry out, but my pace is unwavering. My cock throbs and aches for release with every thrust. I can’t tell if the cum running down my thighs is his or mine. I use all the strength left in my body to lift him up off the forest floor. His legs still wrap around my waist and he clutches my shoulders. My ragged breaths and grunts pour from my mouth for the whole forest to hear. Hands gripping his ass, slamming him down on my prosthetic, I’m plowing up into him as he cries out. I feel his body tense and shake, his cries getting louder and louder, until he collapses onto me. I know he’s finished but I do not stop. My body aches, but I can’t stop. Pleading and sore he grasps me tightly once more.

“Please! Stop! I came! Please!” he begs, but dogs can’t speak.

I keep slamming my prosthetic into his cunt, grinding my cock against the prosthetic desperate to finish. My core tightens as I thrust into him faster, using his cunt as I please. My blood rushes to my head and cock, my heart pounds in my ears, my vision darkens, my body shakes, until suddenly, finally, I cum.

My legs buckle but I steady myself, laying my partner gently to the ground, and kissing his forehead before collapsing to the ground beside him. We’re breathless, sweat and cum soaked, and soiled with dirt and blood, but the breeze blowing through the trees cools us. I wince, noticing the sweat rolling down my face and soaking my back stinging all of my cuts and bruises. I turn to face my lover, and pull him to me. I cup his bruised face and wipe a tear stain with my thumb.

“Are you alright? Was it too much? How bad does it hurt?” The questions spill from me too quickly. How could I do all those awful things? How could I like all those awful things? He places a finger gently up to my lips silencing me.

“Yes. No. Could be worse.” He laughs, smiling at me, “It was good. You’re good.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” I ask. My disregard for him from before is melting away into concern and shame.

“Just lay here a spell with me, then maybe you can roll me a smoke after we fix each other up.” He reassures me. He’s taken my shame and casted it away. I press him tighter to me.

“As you wish, you did so good for me. Thank you. Thank you.” I whisper to my lover. A tear stings my busted cheek.

I press my lips to his gently. We’re both bruised and aching with lips busted, but this gentleness and tenderness for each other overwhelms all else.

I hold him to my chest, petting and kissing his head, while he strokes my chest. We listen to the trees rustling, and a faint babbling whispering from the creek, and the steadily slowing beating in our chests. I don’t think of how long it will be before I can see him in this light, and in this clearing, or how long it will be before, in these secluded moments, I can scream to heaven he’s mine, the way I wish I could scream it to the world. In this moment time stands still, and we can stay here forever.

#mx meatmunchr #ftm cowboy #ftm pet #trans puppy #trans nsft #ftm t4t #ftm mlm #gay cowboy #struggle #ftm dom #ftm smut #t4t nsft #ftm puppy #nsft puppy #if i dont get to do this someday im gonna scream

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yokohamapound · 10 months ago

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HEYYYY! When I tell you I pounce at every update. You’re legitimately my favorite Bungou stray dogs blog. Can I request Dazai and Fyodor with a famous s/o? I think it’s be interesting to see how they’d interact with it all 🫶🏾💕🦋✨

Thank you so much, lovely! I had so much fun writing these. I hope you enjoy!

Characters: Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu

Contents: gn! reader, possessive behaviour, Fyodor being a little shit

Fyodor Dostoevsky

This would be…interesting. I’m usually of the opinion that Fyodor would want to squirrel his s/o away and have them all to himself, away from all the corrupting influences of the world, but this is not necessarily a given. He’s more than capable of dating whomever he pleases, as long as he is in control of almost everything.

It’s possible that he may have targeted you deliberately for a relationship, using you and your fame as a stepping stone in some scheme of his. While he certainly didn’t expect to catch feelings, he’s not going to admit failure on his part or deny himself something that he wants.

He’s extremely camera shy. Fyodor’s been involved with (and betrayed) most of the Gifted organisations and governments in the world, and he’s, y’know, a terrorist, so he can’t exactly show up on the red carpet on your arm.

This doesn’t necessarily set off alarm bells in your mind. As far as you know, he’s some Russian tech genius who just doesn’t want his identity made public. He’s not the celebrity couple type. You’re more than willing to put up with this if it means you get to spend time with those violet eyes and cunning hands.

Your fans are a little obsessed with finding out who your lover is, and there’s a paparazzi who are on the hunt to get a photo of him and flog the picture for big bucks. But there’s only been a few sightings of him, and never anything concrete:

A pale hand reaching out of the limousine to take your hand after you’re leaving an event.

Someone in a dark coat standing next to you, though you can’t see their face.

A photo of you having dinner with a dark-haired man, shot from behind so no one can see the man’s face.

Fyodor’s a master at covering his tracks, whether in real life or digitally, so he’ll remain your phantom boyfriend. I think he leaves these little breadcrumbs out in the world, when he could easily erase them, because he likes your fans knowing that you’re not theirs, you’re his.

The online trolls that will be present on any famous person’s social media should beware Fyodor’s wrath. He’s cold, calculated, and amoral, and he won’t hesitate to retaliate in petty, yet devastating ways, like ruining their credit, framing them for a crime, or even just airing their dirty laundry to all their friends and family. The best part? They won’t even know who or why it happened. But it happens enough that you get a reputation for having a scary fanbase.

In reality, it’s all just one man who dabbles in cyber-crime as a hobby. Heh.

If you’re in movies, TV, or singing duets where you have to pretend to be with someone else, he won’t act crazy jealous. That’s far too brutish. But you will notice an uptick in his possessive behaviour. He always has a hand on you in one way or another, paying more attention to you, etc. Anything to bring your attention back to where it belongs: on him.

If you ever ask him outright if he’s bothered by you being famous, he retorts:

“No, my dear. It amuses me, to think of all those people looking at you, crying out for your love and attention, wanting to be you. And at the end of the day, you come home to me. I have something that none of them ever will~”

Dazai Osamu

At first, Dazai would probably have significant reservations about dating someone famous. A brief fling, sure, but a full relationship is something that’s gonna give him pause. He’d be that way with anyone, but even more so when you spend so much time in the limelight.

He’s not worried about your rabid fans digging into his past and finding out about him being a Port Mafia executive. That shit is too well hidden for even the most determined netizen to find, thanks to Mushitaro’s Special Ability and Ango’s cover-up work.

The simple fact is, Dazai’s a loner.

You’ll see him interacting with the members of the Armed Detective Agency and seeming to be the life of the party at rare points, but if you pay close enough attention, you’ll notice he slips away a lot. Sometimes he’s gone from the office for a day or two. Once all the action is said and done, he’s vanished like a ghost when everyone is too busy celebrating. Being around other people is exhausting for him. If his character is anything like the main protagonist of No Longer Human, it’s because he spends so much time playing the clown and wearing a mask. Other people are difficult for him to interact with.

Being on the arm of someone famous brings a lot of attention his way. Sure, he smiles and laughs about all the guys and girls suddenly swarming into his DMs, trying to get his attention. (More than usual, that is.) But he won’t enjoy it if he can’t go anywhere without being mobbed, or if people expect him to be on TV with you.

His good looks will get him a lot of modelling and movie role offers, most of which he’ll turn down. The only ones he accepts are for…malicious reasons.

“Dazai, you’ve turned down every single offer that comes your way. Why’d you take that hair care one?”

“Oh, that’s very simple, bella. It’s because I knew they’d paste it all over that billboard that faces Chuuya’s penthouse windows. Now he has to look at my face every single day.”

“You’re evil.”

Dazai’s not the jealous type, really, so it won’t bother him in the slightest when the gossip rags publish lies about you flirting with this or that J-Pop star, or when your fans profess their love to you. He’ll pretend to be jealous sometimes, but that’s only because he wants to be dramatic and have you baby him.

He gets a lot of his own fans, even though he doesn’t really want them. It doesn’t stop him from dialling up the charm and sending them swooning, just for shits and giggles. Mostly, he’s sly enough to avoid them.

They figure out where he works and turn up to the office, much to Kunikida’s chagrin.

#yokohama pound #bungou stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bsd imagines #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #fyodor dostoevsky bsd #fyodor x reader

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grxmreaperx · 1 year ago

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I rewatched Saw IV and I can't stop thinking about Peter Strahm as a soft Dom! 😩💦

Peter is absolutely a soft dom! I started out with some head cannons for this idea, but am absolutely willing to make a full on fic for this idea if y’all like this!!

Pairing: Peter Strahm x (gn!) reader

Word Count: ~500

Warnings: 18+!! Lots of smut, mostly fluffy smut

Summary: Headcannons about Peter being a soft dom! Aftercare included!!

Peter Strahm as a soft dom would include…

• Your first couple times together, he would hold himself back (especially if he was your first)

• He would be very careful to make sure you are enjoying yourself and that he’s not being too rough

• Always very romantic, intimacy with his partner is very important to him

• He wouldn’t get rougher or more dominant unless you suggested it, or would maybe bring it up later into your relationship, after you’ve been intimate for a while

• One day, you suggest to him that he take a bit more control; it was something you had thought about for a while

• You loved how gentle and romantic he was, but you also wanted the chance to spice it up a bit

• Something changed in him as soon as you suggested it, and this man became absolutely insatiable

• Loves calling you pretty names: sweet baby, darling, baby, pretty thing, just to name a few

• Now, I’m convinced that Strahm would be the biggest softie for his partner, so I don’t think he would be able to degrade you unless you really wanted him to

• And even then, he would be so sweet afterwards, comforting you and telling you how much he loves you

• Loves picking you up and pressing you against the wall when you least expect it

• Just loves picking you up in general, just to remind you he can and who’s in charge

• “Good job baby, you’re doing so good for me”

• Will have you literally anywhere around your home

• In bed, against the wall, on the counter/table, in the shower

• “You gonna be good for me, darling? You know how much I love seeing you on your knees.”

• Loves overstimulating you and seeing how much you can handle

• “Cmon, love, one more for me hmm? I love hearing the noises you make, can’t get enough of it”

• I just imagine how he acts with Perez and how he talks to her/acts with her (picture the scene where she is hit with shrapnel from Billy). If he’s caring with his partner at work, he is going to be an absolute angel with his lover

o Side note: Perez is absolutely into women, and no one is changing my mind, but that’s a subject for another day

• If he’s had a long day at work and needs to let out some pent-up stress, he would probably be a bit rougher, like bending you over and pinning your arms behind your back

• “You look so good full of my cock, love.”

• Always has to hold you afterwards, lots of kisses and sweet talking, telling you how well you did

• Cleans you up, makes sure you have water, jumps in the shower with you when you’ve had a particularly hot and steamy session and you’re both sweaty

I know a lot of you have been looking forward to soft dom Strahm, so I am here to provide! This is kinda short compared to my other works but was trying to get into the swing of writing Peter and getting used to him as a character. Let me know how I did and if y’all want a longer piece of him being a soft dom with his partner!! (There is also a Peter Strahm NSFW alphabet in your futures, your girl knows what the people want👀)

#fanfic #saw #saw franchise #peter strahm x reader #peter strahm #headcanon #smut #fluff

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gottalovetumbler · 13 days ago

Text

TF141 Zombie Apocalypse AU pt.2

Info: very gory and decently dark, cussing, slavery-esk, kinda obsessive too

Setting info: so I live in Colorado so this story is widely based on where I live and the Denver airport. To help set the scene I’ve included a picture I took outside of my house to show where the main character and Johnny live.

Anyways I hope y’all enjoy!

————————

“For the last damn time we are not going anywhere near Denver!”

“Come on bonnie! Juist imagine the untouch’d mail thare! It woul’ be like gettin the winnin lotto ticke’ !”

“Yea but instead of walking away with a shit ton of cash we’d be walking into a shit ton of zombies! Also don’t forget the sign saying to stay away from the airport.”

“Ah come on, whan has thon sign iver been richt aboot anything? remember earlier this year whan it says,’best outpost this side o the rockies juist 15 miles south.’ an then the same outpost blew up no e'en 2 months later. Tha’ sign has alway’ been full o lies.”

“No that sign has always been full of false hope, not lies. And it sure as hell has never been used as a warning sign, especially with how far whoever wrote it must have traveled to get up here. Whatever they’re warning people about, it’s serious and we’re gonna heed it. End of discussion.”

With that, you flip and stalk up to your house. Pulling open the door you walk in but don’t hear the door slam shut behind you so you know he’s followed you in. Of course he has, it’s your turn to cook dinner so he’ll be here all night.

“But Bonnie, it’s only aboot an hour drive.”

He whined, shutting the storm door and following you to the kitchen.

“It used to be an hour drive Johnny, 5 fucking years ago before the world went to shit. Do you know how many pileups and walkers there are in that city? Too many.”

You glance up from the pot you were stirring. The soup just about done and the scent wafting around making both your stomach growl. You’ve solemnly seen Johnny so defeated, the last time you saw him this bad was the day he turned up on your door step 2 years ago.

“Listen, I get it I do. It’s hard being in the middle of nowhere, nothing to do or to see. I get it I promise, I grew up here. But the possibility of finding some cool package meant for some chick named Racheal at the FedEx hub is not worth the risk. It just isn’t.”

“Yea you’re richt. The packages aren’t worth the risk o ane o us gettin hurt or worse,’ you turn your gaze back to the oven, glad you’ve finally got through to him. It sucks being stuck here but atleast you’re both safe-,’neither are the animals. They deserve tae stay trappit where they are because they just….. aren’t worth the risk. Right Bonnie?”

The glare you send his way just about lays him on his ass. The cocky smirk he sends you makes you nearly explode with anger. How fucking dare he use the defenseless animals against you.

“You and I both know any animals trapped down there are long gone and sadly there’s nothing I can do about that.”

“Maybe…… but wha’ if they aren’t? Ye gonna let thaim suffer alone a scared while ye sit here eatin chicken noodle soup?”

———

Back before the outbreak, you thought no car rides would ever be worse than the family road trips you used to go on yearly. They were full of anger and arguing, mainly between your parents but what you would give to be back there. Not just because you miss your parents, you do, but because if you hear Johnny sing one more damn Rihanna song, you may just give yourself to the zombies.

“Umbrella-ella-ella-eh-eh-eh, Under my Umbrella-ella-ella-eh-“

“Johnny, shut the fuck up! You don’t need to sing this song 50 times in a row! I promise you’ll live if you stop singing.”

“For all ye know bonnie, ma beautiful voice coud be the one thin’ keepin us safe so hou aboot ye respect it a bit more? hmmm?”

“I highly doubt that if your voice is keeping things away, it’d be because it’s beautiful.”

He turns to you with an eyebrow raised but before he can retort, the large (and frankly, ugly) FedEx logos appears. Sun damaged and looks to have been half plowed down by a minivan, but recognizable non the less. You can’t tell if it’s the tires or Johnny squealing as he veers the car towards the front doors.

———

It’s been 4 hours since you pulled up to this God-forsaken warehouse and you’ve barely glanced through half the packages, let alone open and look at them like Johnnys doing.

“How much longer are you gonna take? I’d like to leave before I begin turning to dust if possible.” You ask/complain as you sit on a Samsung fridge new in box, probably cost more than 2k before but now it’s nothing more than a crappy bench. You guys spend another hour loading all the ‘good’ stuff into the trunk of the car and begin the long trek home.

It was about 4 am when you started the journey down and it’s just about to get to 9:30 pm as you make your way back up. On the drive back you guys stick to the highways instead of the side roads/land. It looks like when shit hit the fan almost everyone started making their way south to try and get out of the city, clogging up the roads while the north bound road had a few straggling cars but no big blocks luckily.

“Grumpy, grumpy. Absolutely na respect for the hunt. Back whan A wis i the military A usit tae have tae sit still i ane spot for hours hopin tae catch a glance at the missions target. Aye could hunt for hours an niver get borit.”

“That’s the first time you’ve mentioned your time in the military in a few months.” You say staring straight ahead at the ‘road’ (it’s a fucking field) processing what he said for a moment. “Do you miss it?”

“Miss wha’ exactly?”

“Ya’know the missions and the ‘doing the greater good.’ Getting the bad guys and putting them down.”

“A dae miss the missions a little bit, ay. But A miss ma fellow soldiers more. We were a family, a found on’ but on’ nonetheless.”

You guys banter and talk for a bit more, effectively killing time till you have to inevitably had back north. Luckily the drive down wasn’t too bad since you were able to cut through fields and avoid any towns with ease.

If there’s one thing zombie movies and shows got wrong, it was the amount of zombies walking the earth. Sure, there used to be about 7 billion living people and that number has now dropped to a measly 400 million. But that doesn’t mean every other body is a current zombie. In the beginning there were loads but as the years went on and more were killed, the hoards became far and few between. On the drive down you guys maybe encountered 10 or 15 zombies, majority once you reached Denver. The drive back you’ll probably only see 5 to 10, if that.

You’d about halfway out when the car starts the slow. Your head had just knocked the door in your attempt to get some shut eye so your heart was already pounding as Johnny hit the breaks. Looking up you expect to see a pile up, a hoard or maybe worse, survivors, but all your met with is an open road. Glancing to your left to see what Johnny’s looking at you follow his gaze to your right and see a giant sign for the airport.

“No Johnny don’t even think about it. We talked about this, whoever wrote that sign was truly scared of whatever’s in that airport so we’re aren’t going anywhere near it.”

He shoots you a quick glance, studying your quirked eyebrow before he mutters a quick, ‘Sorry Bon.’ and veers toward the airport. Stupidly (don’t this at home kids) you reach for the steering wheel while yelling at him to stop. The second you get both hands on the wheel he grabs your wrists with one and holds them to his chest. Still muttering apologies as he reaches 60 mph and weaves through stopped vehicles. One too many close calls cause you to shut your eyes tightly waiting for the inevitable impact. A few minutes later you both come to a stop on the top floor of the DIA parking garage.

As he put the car in park and looks over, he expects you to yell or maybe even slap him. What he didn’t expect were the fat tears rolling down your face and you stared petrified at the entrance.

“Juist a quick in an oot ok? We’ll be back home i na time- oh bonnie i’m sorry ok, I’m so sorry.”

He pulls you in for a hug and strokes a hand down the back of your head and spine a few times.

“Ye don’t have tae gae i gin ye don’t want tae ok? A juist have tae see somethin for ma own piece o mind but ye can stay oot here.”

As if you could have gotten more upset at that moment. Pulling back from him you shoot him the most scandalized look. “And what Johnny, leave you alone to fucking die in there? ‘sniff’ No I’m coming in with you, but don’t think just because I’m going in either you means I forgive you for this.”

You both waited for your tears to stop and your breathing to even out before you steeped out of the car and up to the once working sliding glass doors. Newspaper had been plastered up and covered all the windows, you just hope it’s to keep zombies out and not in. Producing a crow bar from the trunk, Johnny wedges the doors open and you both sneak inside. You’re up on the second floor and begin walking around, passing the small shops and gates as you went. Up ahead you both see one of those floor cut outs with the railings where you can look over the edge to the lower levels.

When you first pulled up, there were no signs of life but as you draw closer to the viewpoint you begin to see faint light and hear voices. Shucking off the little stuff you brought in, you and Johnny lay flat to the ground and begin to army crawl toward the ledge, hoping to catch a glimpse at whoever’s down below.

The sight your met with makes you feel a bit sick, whether that due to the amount of zombies or what’s happening to them your not sure. Down below is a giant wheel, that seems to be hooked up to a generator, being pulled in circles by 20-30 of them. It isn’t unheard of for people to keep zombies and use them for some sort of manual labor but it is looked down upon. Just put the poor bastards out of their misery and let the rest.

Transfixed on the hoard you almost miss the very obviously human man walking up to one of the limping zombies that’s not moving quite as fast as he’d like. He stands there watching the poor thing drag its bum right leg for a good 30 seconds before it crumples to the ground.

Not even a second after the zombies knees hit the ground, the human man unchains it and begins dragging it away. The second he grabs the things shirt it begins to beg? You look to the right and meet Johnnys equally wide eyes, both of you realizing the sickening truth. Those aren’t zombies, those are fucking people.

Seemingly rritated by this, he begins dragging the human mam towards a wall. Clearly this is not a good wall because he begins to fight and yell, trying to get free but is quickly overpowered and chained up onto the wall. A bright light flicks on suddenly, momentarily blinding you as it points towards the man. Your heart skips a beat as you read the words over the top of the man’s head and holy shit you’re gonna be sick.

‘Johnny MacTavish, a traitor’

You look back over at Johnny but he’s transfixed on what’s happening below, unable to pull his wide and terrified eyes away. As the man walks away a new one appears with an all too happy voice.

“Oh Johnny, we finally found you! Do you know how hard it’s been withou' you all these years? I’ve missed you so dearly brother.”

The new man is clearly crazy because judging by the state of the wall this is not the first ‘Johnny’ to be chained up there. He approaches the chained man with a cart of knives and other torture items and from this far you can still see his manic grin. Not wanting to see the way this plays out you turn back to Johnny to say you guys need to leave but as your eyes slide over to his you catch something straight across from you on the opposite side of the opening.

Sitting in the same position as you, is a masked face. Just staring, not moving, just laying there watching you both. You kick Johnny to get him out of whatever trance he was in and before he can question you, your pointer finger directs his gaze to the man across the way. As Johnny makes eye contact with him his body grows frigid and he quickly stand pulling it up with him. The masked man tilts his head and slowly stands as-well, mirroring your movements perfectly.

Johnny grabs your hand and before you can even process the masked man running towards you both, he’s yanking you towards the exit.

———————

#poly 141 #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 x fem!reader #141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #tf 141 #zombie au

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sturn1olo-ffics · 1 year ago

Text

“That’s The Way I Loved You”

- Chris Sturniolo x Fem Reader (she/her pronouns used)

- based off the song “The Way I Loved You” Taylor’s Version by Taylor Swift

- WARNINGS: kissing (making out ‼️), mentions of fighting/arguing, crying, break up but happy ending; NOT PROOFREAD

- ABOUT: Chris and y/n get into a huge fight over Instagram comments and she breaks up with him. A month after, y/n decides it’s time to put herself out there again. She finds a great guy, but he’s just not Chris. That’s when she realizes what she really wants.

“I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain. And it’s 2am and I’m cursing your name. So in love that you act insane. And that’s the way I loved you.”

(Y/N’s POV)

I sat down on my couch after a long day and decided to open up my phone and check Instagram. My notifications were blowing up and I didn’t know why.

Chris posted a picture of you at dinner the night before with the caption: “My girl.”

You smile and feel butterflies swarm your stomach as you like the post and comment “Cringe 🤓” just joking around with him.

You check the comments, only to see hate comment after hate comment being left.

User332: “Bro she’s not even pretty”

y/nhater617: “why is he lowering his standards for her 💀”

User984: “i hope they break up soon fr”

————————————————————————————

{ iMESSAGE }

Chris: Hey you free tonight or ??

Y/n: You wanna come over?

Chris: Ok mind listener

Y/n: You mean mind reader 😭😭

Chris: Whatever. I’ll be there at 5

————————————————————————————

(Time passes)

Chris was over at my house. He was leaned up against my counter and I was sitting on the island across from him.

Scrolling through TikTok, I realize that this is a good time to tell him how I’ve been feeling about his Instagram comments.

“Hey, can we talk about something that’s been bothering me?” I said with a frown.

“Uh- yeah sure. What’s wrong?” Chris said worriedly as he stepped closer toward me.

“I just- you’re Instagram comments are always full of people hating on me… and I was just wondering if-” I started to say before he cut me off.

“Just ignore ‘em” he says in a nonchalant manner, like he didn’t care at all.

“Can you tell them to stop or at least turn your comments off?” I asked in response.

“What? No. I’m not turning my comments off on Instagram. And there’s nothing I can say that will actually get them to stop.” Chris said in a defensive, almost angry tone.

“Can you at least try?” I started to get fed up.

“Y/n. Not everything is going to be perfect just for you.” the words slipped out of his mouth.

“What?” I said, tears filling my eyes.

“Y/n, I meant that I just can’t do anything about it. What do you want me to do? Become a magic wizard and cast a spell on all these little girls to stop hating on you? Even if I could, I still wouldn’t care enough.” Chris yelled.

“Wouldn’t care enough?” I said softly, tears falling out my eyes and running down my cheeks.

“Y/n- it’s just this kinda stuff is what you have to deal with- it’s like character development. It’s a part of life- a part of my life at least-” he started to say before I slid off the counter and started to walk away.

“I’m also a part of your life. And if this is what it’s going to be like, then I don’t want to be anymore.” I said while opening up my front door, signaling him out.

“Y/n, what? You’re gonna break up with me over this?” he said quickly.

“I just can’t right now, Chris.” I responded as he walked out and I closed the door behind him.

I slid down the back of my door, salty tears rolling one after another out of my eyes.

We had gotten in fights before, screaming at each other even, but this one was final.

(ONE MONTH LATER)

I met a boy while I was at the grocery store. His name was Henry and he was really cute and seemed super sweet. We got each others numbers and started hanging out almost every day.

—————————————————————————————

{ iMESSAGE }

Henry: Hi!! I’ll pick you up at 6 if that’s okay?

Y/n: Sounds great! Can’t wait.

—————————————————————————————

But the truth is, I could wait.

He’s sensible and so incredible. And all my single friends are jealous. But something just felt off, every time we were together.

It’s been a month since me and Chris broke up, and I knew I wanted to put myself out there. So why did this superhero of a guy just not seem like enough?

I started to think about Chris more and more. Which is weird because I started to not care about the break up about a week after it happened. I always seemed to move on quickly for some reason.

I picked my phone up and shot Henry a quick text, asking him for a rain check.

It actually was pouring down raining outside, so I figured he wouldn’t question it.

I put on “10 Things I Hate About You” and plopped down on my couch with a bowl of popcorn and a Pepsi.

Pepsi was Chris’ favorite drink, and it grew on me over time as well.

“I hate it when you’re not around and the fact that you didn’t call. But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close. Not even a little bit. Not even at all.” the TV starts to play as I tear up.

Chris.

All I could think about was Chris.

He flooded my mind.

But why?

I started to get up and make my way to the fridge to grab the container of strawberries I was craving, but noticed I had already eaten them all.

“Great.” I said to myself. I really wanted those strawberries.

There was a grocery store at the end of my street, so I knew I could just walk down there and grab some.

I gather my things in my purse, put my shoes on, and grab my umbrella because it’s practically storming.

I reached for the doorknob, but before I could grab it, 3 knocks sounded at my door.

“Bruh I asked him for a raincheck. No way Henry’s outside my door right now.” I thought to myself.

I turned the knob and opened my front door, only to find Chris standing there. Soaked head to toe from the rain.

“Hi” he said out of breath.

“Chris?” I was confused.

“I take it you’re about to go hang out with Henry” he said, turning around.

“No, actually… I cancelled on him.” I said sharply.

Chris turned around and stared at me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him.

“I- I don’t know. One minute, I was playing Fortnite on Twitch. And the next I was putting my shoes on to come here. I think I just-” he was saying before I cut him off with a kiss.

He leaned into the kiss almost immediately. Both of us getting soaked from the rain. But we didn’t care. We just craved each other.

He pulled back and tilted his head to deepen the kiss. One hand on my waist, the other on my back pulling me impossibly closer to him.

The kiss lasted for what felt like an hour, but was really 30 seconds.

“I’ve missed you. I’ve missed us.” I said with a smile, looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

He smiled back and pulled me into a longing hug.

“How about we go inside and dry off huh?” he joked.

“That, and you need to help me figure out how to let Henry down nicely.” I laughed.

“I love you, y/n” he said pausing his footsteps.

My heart jumped. He had never said this before.

“I love you too, Chris” I said with a smile.

—————————————————————————————

A/n: Hey guys! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I’m trying to make my fics better, so let me know what I could change. Also, let me know what you wanna see next.

Thank you for 80 notes on my last fic!!!

#the sturniolos #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo triplets x reader #nick sturniolo x reader #fluff #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine

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pixeldistractions · 2 months ago

Text

warnings: adult activities and conversation, pictures should be Tumblr-safe (we’ll see…), spice level 3/5 🌶️🌶️🌶️ 😇

He promised she wouldn’t hate this, so sometimes that meant he carried four jugs of water to fill the tank so she could have a luxurious hot shower. She appreciated that, and she would take care of him in return. She massaged his tired muscles, kneading all that tension, the powerful shoulders and hard-working back, and turned him into putty. Then when he was melted to her satisfaction and dozing off to sleep—she wasn’t quite done with him yet—she traced the shapes of his tattoo, spanning shoulder or shoulder.

“Did it hurt?”

“Heh, yeah. It took forever.”

“Does it still?”

“Not anymore.”

“Wait, though, it’s a compass,” she said. “But what good is a compass that you can’t see?”

He chuckled. “Didn’t think of that. Maybe it’s not for me.”

“Who’s it for then?”

“You’re the only one who sees it, so I guess it’s for you.”

“Are you saying I’m lost?”

“No. Not anymore. You have a compass now.”

She could see the corners of his lips, grinning into the pillow.

“Hmm, that’s very suave, mister.”

“We’re gonna pretend I planned it that way.”

She tugged on his body until he rolled over, so she could straddle his front instead, then she leaned down to kiss him.

The close confines of their camper called for some romantic experimentation, but that wasn’t a bad thing. Jordan thrived on variety and the millions of ways and places he could cherish her body. He spoiled her with it. In the cab of the camper, window covers on, lean the seats way way back. A blanket under the stars, rolled up together into a frenzy. Save the moans for outside, though you might scare the wildlife. That could be fun, too. In the deep woods with only the nocturnal creatures as their witness. Don’t be shy of the owls and raccoons. They don’t care, they’re naked, too. A campfire crackling. Shirts kept on, or loosened, or scrunched up in a tangle. A wool blanket draped over her back and slowly falling off with each rock and sway. November brought a harsh chill to the nights, but they were always too hot together to ever feel the cold.

Or, just as often, inside, in their bed. So they devised some tricks, battery powered fans for noise, a makeshift wall made of pallet scrap, a haphazard door cut and fit from more scraps. It closed and locked; that was all that mattered. A carefully placed toy that would rattle when little feet crept out of bed. Keep it slow and rhythmic, so so sweet. Hush now, only whispers and sighs, muffled passions, bit lips, covered moans. Don’t rock the camper.

Another experiment, one that caused some mixed anxieties but was just as exciting, they’d been talking about skin to skin. Maria had been on her new birth control for a full cycle now. She was sure it was the right one this time. Double, triple checked.

“I want to feel you,” she said, “not a rubber bag.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, very sure,” she said, sliding herself over him, up and down and around him, just waiting for the go-ahead to push him deep inside.

“I’m just saying, the last time I did this, someone got knocked up with twins.”

“I won’t get pregnant. Not tonight, anyway.”

“Wow. Okay. Yes.”

And that was all she needed.

“Fuuuuck,” he moaned.

“I’m gonna need you to last more than two minutes.”

He was already far beyond words, so she got straight to work. She moved herself on him purposefully, hitting all her right spots while keeping it slow and steady, watching his face melt with pleasure, slowing him down and trying her best to beat him to the finish line because this was going to be a race. She would win, but it might be close.

The camper rocked, for sure.

— “boxes and squares #5.1: live the fairytale” (7/10)

previously: Jordan is super careful and Maria is irresponsible

notes: this isn’t just frivolous smut, by the way. (Not that I would ever be above writing such a thing!) We are heading into some important character development in the next piece. Also not meant to be foreboding. She really did double-triple check her birth control this time! It’s like 99% effective or something…

Next -> // 5.1 start // index

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #sims story #sim stories #jordan #maria

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