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#cw: forced shaving
luvhiromi · 1 month
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pussy-eater! (jjk dilfs) | toji and shiu ver.
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content: how i imagine toji and shiu eats pussy.
cw: written porn HAHA, pussy-eating, overstimulation, fucked out!reader, toji calls reader mama, shiu calls reader sweetheart/princess, light praising, pussy-drunk toji and shiu.
pairing: toji x fem!reader, shiu x fem!reader
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Toji Fushiguro
You should be scared when he gets down on you. He’s not letting you go till he’s satisfied, basically eating you out for his own pleasure fr. 
He doesn’t even have a particular reason to eat you out. “Just cause i wanna” and proceed to give you the best head you’ve ever receive. 
Will tease you at first, then go full out making out with your cunt like it’s some kind of dessert. Doesn’t hold back and you can feel his stubble on your pussy burning it lightly (i just know toji doesn’t shave everyday) 
His face would be so messy smeared with your fluids, but he doesn’t mind it, hell he loves that shit. Would be lapping on your pussy like it’s some sweet ice cream and fucking you with his tongue. Just so messy.
Slamming you on the bed. “Lemme make you feel good, pretty mama” he teases your folds with the tips of his fingers admiring your sloppy cunt, liking your whines and begs for him. Your cunt looking so mesmerizing just begging to be fucked out. He doesn’t waste any more second and latched his mouth on your cunt and sucked on it.
“Mmmh, ya like that mama?” he starts lapping on your cunt, making you squirm in pleasure. He groans lightly, humping on the bed chasing pleasure from eating you out. He licked your cunt, lapped on it, and fucked you with his tongue till you can’t even feel your own pussy. Legs shaking threatening to close feeling your high coming, his hands gripping on your thighs tighter forcing your legs to stay open. 
“Nngh, keep your legs open for me mama. I’m far from done,” he growls lowly to you, warning you. You can’t even think anymore, all you feel and know at this moment is pleasure. Your eyes were rolling back and jaw falling slack, you can’t even moan at the overwhelming pleasure anymore. You reached your high, gripping his hair tightly, don’t even know if you’re pushing his head away or pulling his head even closer to your squelching cunt. You can’t get enough of it, but it’s all too much.
“Mmmmh you did great mama.” He finally lets go of your poor abused pussy. His face is messy with your fluids. He grins at your fucked out expression trying to catch a breath, proud of his creation. He flicked at your folds, earning a flinch from you cause your pussy is just so sensitive.
“Ready for round two, mama?” Your eyes widen in shock and you whimper at his words… 
Shiu Kong
He’s the opposite of Toji. While Toji eats you out for his pleasure, Shiu eats you out for your pleasure. If you’re ever feeling stressed out, his solution to it is eating you out. “To relieve all your tension, sweetheart,” he reasons with you. 
He’ll blow on your cunt sending shivers down your spine. He focuses on the most sensitive parts, lightly nibbling and sucking on it. Gives your puffy pussy loving soft kisses. 
When you’re close he gets a little bit more intense that leaves your mind blank. He lets you ride through it until you can’t take it anymore pushing his head away. He’ll let go and come up to you just to make out. So you could taste yourself on his tongue. 
But when he’s stressed, oh sweetheart you better put your seatbelts on fr. There’s no way out of his grasp, he’ll be gripping your thighs till it’s bruised the next day. Lapping and sucking on your abused sloppy cunt till you’re falling apart on his hands. 
He just came back from work and was greeted by you buried with work and you’re laying your head on top of file. “Hey there, you okay sweetheart?” You look at him pouting, your cheek mushed on top of a file. 
“Rough day.” You say tiredly towards Shiu and give him a soft smile. “Want me to make it better princess?” Shiu suggested and you look up at him confused. “Sure..?” 
“Why don’t you lean back for me sweetheart.” You obeyed his words and lean back on your chair. Shiu kneels down in front of you, “I’ll make you feel all better princess.” Your breath hitch finally realizing what he’s about to do. He pries your legs open and pulls down your pants & panties in one go.
“Such a beautiful pussy, and it’s all for me right princess?” You nod at his words feeling a sense of content at his compliment. He blows on your puffy pussy right before he lightly sucks and nibbles on your sensitive spot, that he knows all too well. He looks up at you while he laps on your now wet cunt, always loving your blissed expressions. Your breath getting more erratic, your chest heaving and your eyes rolling back as you’re getting close.
“Eyes on me sweetheart, I want you to look at me when you come on my mouth.” His hands softly rubbing your thighs as he sucks and laps on your cunt. You look down at him, making eye contact and you grab his hair to pull him inevitably closer to your pussy. He grins at your actions and laps at your wet soft cunt as you reach your high. He hums in content as you cum in his mouth. He rides you through your high until you push him away from your tired trembling cunt.
He pulls back from your pussy and smirks at you smugly. “Did I make you feel all better princess?” He asked while licking his lips, tasting you. You nod at him and he stood up towering over you. He grabbed your chin to make you look up at him. He kissed you, mainly to put his tongue in your mouth to make you taste yourself.
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a/n: this was so rush, hope u guys like it <3 my first ever drabble! if u guys are interested i’ll make a part 2 :)
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aquasoftware · 24 days
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FIVE STAR MEAL…★ ★ ★ ★ ★!!
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Synopsis: Married to the world's most judgmental chef also meant you feared him going anywhere near your not-so-shaved pussy.
CW: Not proofread ngl 😬, Chef! Geto, c*nnilingus, fingering, spit, praise, hair pulling, thigh hickeys, kissing, dirty talk, degrading (once), squirting, tatted!Reader, insecure! Reader, established relationship, hotel setting, you have a hairy cooter in this! Lmk if I missed sum!!
FT: Drabble.
WC: 1k || Paring : Geto x F!Reader || M.L
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When your husband is globally known for having a nasty attitude as a Michelin chef, of course, you were gut-wrenchingly nervous to let him eat you out.
Every "What if?" Always scurried across your scattered brain whenever Suguru pleaded to give you oral, which you brushed aside for another day until the two of you were on vacation for your 1-year anniversary, somewhat far away from the girls, while they were at your parent's house.
Praying he wouldn't treat you like he did to other chefs that he worked with, spitting out their dishes and telling them that gobbling their food was like eating shitty toxic waste, eventually you at last mustered up the courage to let him know what you really desired.
"You sure you're not gonna mind it being hairy, or.. what if I taste bad..?" You gulped, slightly grinding teeth as fidgety eyes bounced from side to side, spouting questions at Suguru left and right.
Oh? That's what this is about; this only made him abhorrently offended; you’d think he’d judge his sweet wife and her semi-unexplored jungle. You've let him finger you a couple of times, but each time was bare since being hairy made you profoundly self-conscious. Besides that, Suguru definitely snuck a taste on his fingers, although remembering it tasting like nothing, he still was prepared to eat your pussy as if it were an addictive drug.
"Trust me, baby, I'm going to take care of you real good; you're gonna wish you let me give you head sooner." Suguru smugly reassured, folding his arms as a devious grin marched in on his face.
And whew! He wasn't lying whatsoever, going slow at first, pressing tender sensual kisses at the dime-sized tattoos in between your thighs, while you rested on your elbows vigilant as to what he was doing exactly, breath hitching whenever Suguru's smooth lips trickled closer to your core.
Your husband began to harshly suck at the sensitive skin, creating dark marks on each thigh, causing you to quietly yelp, achieving a light snicker from out of him running his soft hands all over your body as he exhaled hot, steamy breath upon your aching pussy.
"Sugu..." Whining at the way his breath grazed your lower region, subtly asking for more, too impatient for anymore foreplay, soon satisfied enough, he finally licked a thin stripe across your clit, forcing your eyes to instantly shut.
His tongue lapped at your pussy as if it were nectar, eating it like he was on death row. Feeling his wet muscle slithering above your bundle of nerves in circles passionately sucking it every now and then; body uncontrollably writhing underneath Suguru’s face.
“Oh fffuck.. keep going, mhmm..” Your lips murmured words traveling straight to your husband’s ear, providing the extra motivation Suguru needed to devour that cunt whole.
He didn’t care the next person would call him disgusting for having lots of pube hair tickle his pale nose; either way, he was still going to swish his head side to side rapidly, enjoying the way your hands found solace in his raven tresses half near yanking it out of his skull developing pathetic whimpers against your throbbing pussy.
Sort of becoming embarrassed how even little vibrations from his moans led to your back arching, not at all bothered by the cruel chilly hotel air conditioning slapping close to your fiercely warm body way too in the moment of Suguru’s lewd sounds slurping down a five-star meal.
Hoping the two of you weren’t too loud during quiet hours in the lavish hotel, there was a huge attempt to keep your poor cries reduced, but you struggled, especially when Suguru covertly added fingers without warning.
Opening droopy eyes, you stared at the way this man had two fingers inserted inside, pushing them back and forth in a come here motion.“Haah haahh, shittt, u—use your fingers like that.” Mewling as loud as a siren, his slender fingers wriggling inward your mushy tightened walls felt like heaven, such in a daze that your brain persuaded you to believe that angels were singing to you.
You swore nobody could pull him away from your cunt, but he lifted his head up, panting as if he ran laps around the world. “Dirty girl, you like when I curl my fingers like this?” Suguru serenely spoke betwixt breaths, mildly biting his lip while his almond eyes traced your frame, in love with how the cream on his fingers oozed onto strands of hair from your lower lips.
Throwing your head back towards the mattress, unfortunately too engulfed in pleasure to even answer an inquiry like that right now, his fingers continuously targeted your g-spot, resulting in a deafening sing song squeal that echoed all around the spacey hotel room.
“Hmm, I think I’ve found your sweet spot, baby…” Your man cooed as freckled, sprawled-out goosebumps formed on your arms, the tone of his voice turning you on even more while he proceeded to plunge his fingertips at the notorious spongy spot, unable to help but slam your legs around his head.
He’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt like hell, yet his drive to please his lady was stronger than the pain pounding as of now. “Aht, aht, aht, spread those pretty legs, love.” He sternly ordered, looking prideful when you immediately listened, snapping your legs back wide like a can opener.
“O-oh my godddd aaah S—suguru,” Your lips wailed out; his spit stabbing your pussy running down your plump labia, getting more and more sloppy. Suguru decided to chase after your clit once more, not knowing all these sensations attacking you at once sent you over the edge earlier than expected.
“I can’t ‘m gonna…” You slurred as Suguru’s concentrated palm rubbed against your entrance, driving your eyes to roll back, legs frantically shaking as if they’d been electrocuted. So much was going on at once; you knew he encouraged an orgasm, but you couldn’t understand what he was saying due to his fading out voice, entirely overwhelmed with arousal. The fiery pool in your stomach snapped, bucking up into his face not noticing juices bursted all over your husband.
Boosting Suguru’s confidence causing you to realize he most certainly wasn’t going to let up unless you squirted again on the white damp sheets.
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9/1/24 12:46 pm
dividers by cafe kitsune + @/rookthornesartistry
may or may not be inspired by Gordon Ramsay ☹️ leave me alone okay…
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sanemisstalker · 1 year
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Some Douma nsfw about his boobs- because I dumped my boyfriend and then shaved off my brows and idk how to feel about it yet.
Update: not feeling too hot, but you know who is? Douma.
CW/ fem reader with afab genitalia/ Douma is a gaslighter, and a whiny bitch / dub-con (recieving and commiting) / Sadomasochism / Gore (you get Douma so excited he accidentally breaks his own haw.)
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- Douma isn't a very... giving lover. It's always take take take with him, but he always disguises it as giving, so it's very hard to notice-
-the problem only occurred to you when you realized just how unwilling he was to let you touch him. It was the fifth time in a row that you'd reached over just to give him a little shoulder rub, and after multiple careful shrugs and evasion, Douma simply turned and smiled.
-'You're not allowed to do that.' His face was all smiles, per usual, but the words were icy.
-'why not?'
-'I don't want you to.'
-'You do things I don't want all the time.' Douma squinted, smile still intact. 'What's wrong with me wanting to make you feel good?'
-'Am I not good enough at making you feel good? Why are you trying to self satisfy?' He'd taunt.
-'You know that's not what I mean.' You'd snap. 'I want to please you... You're always giving me head and fingering me and- you just won't let me do anything back. I don't feel like I'm giving you enough... sexually.'
-'You give me plenty sexually.' Douma assured. It wasn't a lie, but Douma understood perfectly that you didn't quite grasp just what he was getting out of those situations.
-You were an awfully pretty crier, but Douma wasn't going to let you know that. He didn't need you to know that, because you were very stubborn, and probably wouldn't take that as you should-
-Point being, Douma lived and breathed to humiliate you. Even if you were cumming time and time again, Douma was getting off on the disgusted, envious looks of his subjects as they'd been more or less forced to watch you cream on his fingers.
- He only liked to eat you out when he knew he could bite at your clit, and grip the muscles around your upper thigh so hard that you'd be all but paralyzed for the days to come- letting him have his way with you time and time again-
-blatantly speaking, Douma's an exhibitionist, and a voyeur. After all is said and done, and the night has crawled upon you, he's likely jerking off in bed thinking about the events of the day-
-because Douma's sensitive, but you don't need to know all that. You don't need to see how every orgasm shatters him. Or how he just has to put a couple of fingers in his mouth, tugging down on his jaw so he cam fight back the screams that would out him as a complete masochist-
-'Where's this sudden interest in me coming from, hm?' Douma would pry, trying to lead off the conversation, but his hm began to drag on as your hand latched around the rim of his shirt.
-Douma reached down to grab your wrist, but you lunged, shocking him slightly. You burrowed under his shirt. Douma could only look down at you, perplexed and somewhat annoyed- You were stretching his shirt-
-Douma's eyes snapped open as he felt your thumb land on his left nipple.
-'Y/N?' He'd laugh, but without any of the things that made a laugh warm and... goodwilled. 'You're on very thin ic-'
-His words dropped in his throat as you barely began to graze his nipple with the pad of your thumb- barely. The light stimulation, much to Douma's chagrin, rushed right down to his cock-
-You hummed as you felt it twitch through his pants, and up against your stomach.
-Douma would pull up his collar, peering down at you. You'd look up at him with pleading eyes, and all too gentle thumbs. Douma would drop his collar, and let his head lul back, annoyed at your little scene you seemed so desperate to make.
-Douma's heart dropped as he felt something slightly wet graze his nipple, before latching on and delivering the smallest, most hard-on-inducing lick, and then moving back.
-Douma slid a hand over his mouth as covertly as he could. His claws all but pierced his jaw in an attempt the keep it shut. His lashes fluttered as the cold hit his wet nipple, driving it to a hard bud beneath your leering eyes.
-With his reprimands dying down, and his cock rising up, you toyed with Douma's chest rather cruelly. You'd swirl your fingers in a circle around the areola, and then wait before harshly attacking the nipple. You'd feel Douma's body tense up in anticipation each time, awaiting the assault.
-Douma was going to collapse. You'd drive his nerves insane, and then leave them be- His dick ached beneath you, presumably swelling so bad it'd formed a wet patch in his pants that would be humiliating to have cleaned-
-and then he felt a harsh nip. Pain and then relief shot through his body, and Douma's fingers broke through his jaw. Puncturing through the skin and snapping through the bone and the tooth, Douma choked down a moan. The crack was deafening, and your head shot up, but a moment of weakness forced Douma to open his mouth.
-'Don't- Back. Go back.' He'd slur past his own fingers. His other hand would gracefully find your head, nudging you back down, and you'd oblige with glee, wrapping your lips around the bud and delivering the most mind numbing sensation Douma had ever experienced.
-'You're shaking.' You'd say in between breathes. 'Do you feel good?' Douma wanted to take off your head then and there, what a needlessly humiliating question-
-You pinched his nipple between your two fingers, tugging. Douma flinched. His body begged him to play along- to your whims. Anything for more of your abuse.
-'It-It feels fine.' He'd struggle to stabilize his voice... and to keep his orgasm at bay. Your skill was mind numbing- He could feel his climax ebbing-
-When you pulled away entirely.
-Douma looked at you like you'd shot his dog, if he could even care for a dog. You hadn't seen his fingers in his jaw, but you saw the after math, blood running thick down his neck and lips-
-'Guess I'll stop. I'm sorry I wasn't any good.' You went to go sit back down, Douma's eyes wide. It was an unusual expression, almost creepy in a way.
-'Are you serious?' Douma laughed, though this one had more life... more desperation.
-'Yes?'
-it was a beautiful look to finally see Douma pained- longing- in desperate need of relief he just wasn't going to get-
-His eyes darted around in question, back slumping as his dick sat up with the most ease He'd ever experienced...
-You smiled kindly as Douma raised up with shirt. It caught at his collar bone, scrunched up just beneath his neck. He bore his chest to you, nipples pink, puffy, and very irritated.
-Christ, you were gonna cum. You were going to fucking cum- he looked pathetic. The power surge that ripped through your body at the sight of him all but verbally begging was intoxicating.
-Christ.
-'It felt good, continue?' He was trying his damndest to keep even a semblance of control, but that look in your eye told him He'd have you work much harder-
-'It felt really good.' Douma slowly spread his legs, displaying just how hard He'd really gotten- His cock was straining through his pants. 'Keep going- I need to cum.'
-The word you wanted was 'please' but the sight of him struggling not to touch his own chest, fingers fluttering around the rim of his shirt, drove you back to his boobs with no hesitation-
-Douma let out a guttural noise- not a moan or a groan, but more of a wail-
-When Douma finally came- perhaps only a moment after you went back, it was because you'd nearly bitten his nipple clean off. The pain shot right to his dick, and Douma came- in his pants- head back against his array of pillows- jaw tight around his shirt that had slipped between his fanged bite.
-He even felt something a kin to a tear threaten his eye. How impossible.
-You weren't allowed near him for a week. Remember your place, slut 😤😒
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konigsblog · 6 months
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Imagine having konig balls in your mouth as he cums his balls pulsing in your mouth as you stroke his cock
cw: scent kink. MDNI 18+
könig has heavy, thick balls, usually tight and full of his potent load, before being fucked into your sloppy, little pussy after his release.
könig isn't the type to shave often, if at all. he prefers to keep himself hairy so that he's warm during the winter. although this means that during the summer, he becomes incredibly musky and sweaty, his heavy balls laying in your wet mouth while you sit obediently between his muscular thighs, with könig watching as you suckle on them needily, stroking his lengthy cock sloppily. of course, he could just shave himself to reduce sweating and the strength of his intoxicating musk, but he adores forcing your face into his crotch to taunt you or to teach you a lesson, watching as you lap and lick at his stiff, weeping boner over his tight boxers, sniffing at the scent like a whiney mutt.
your eyes are half-lidded with desperation and delirium. the scent of his musk leaves you light-headed and fucked-out stupid, all too familiar with the smell assaulting your nostrils. his fingers are nestled in your soft hair, tugging on it slightly to keep your head still and to rub his veiny dick back and forth over your faces while you whimper and mewl, noises stifled and silenced by his sweaty balls resting in your mouth and against your warm, wet tongue. your fingers wrap around his meaty girth, stroking his boner tightly. your comforting and pleasurable touch leaves könig's breath shakey and his growls guttural and hoarse. 
you drool all over könig's ballsack, unable to mutter a coherent sentence as he mocks and taunts you, not a thought behind your unfocused eyes. you stare off into space while you instinctively roll your tongue back and forth along his balls.
your face is coated in milky strings of his white release, pearly stickiness smeared across your cheeks and forehead as könig feels his muscular core tighten with each slow and gentle movement, thrusting and grinding his cock back and forth, his balls pulsating against your tongue, and your eyes glistening with euphoria and delectation. you begin slobbering all over yourself as he begins spurting thick ropes of his hot seed all over your pretty face, humiliated as tears roll down your wet cheeks slowly. :(
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angelatsumu · 6 months
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secrecy. [j. price]
in which captain price denies his love for you publicly, and that doesn't go over well.
cw: angst (a tiny bit...like it's a little hurtful), SMUT, minors kick rocks DNI, price called daddy but is very switch/sub here, knife play, afab!reader, sorta toxic behavior (don't deny your spouse for a bit of approval with your friends bro), blood play a tiny bit, riding, overstimulation, not proofread
“there’s simply nothing worth settling down for lads. end of discussion.” your teeth met the inside of your cheek to stave off the grimace that fought to surface. your lover, the man you called your husband, had the audacity to allow such foolishly indignant words slip from his liquor laced tongue. the gall of the man who’d insisted you make him the happiest man on earth, the one who’d spent hours practicing his speech in the mirror, was something you’d found quite unexpected. to allow such insanity slip from those precious lips you kissed every morning was far more than an insult to your heart; it broke your pride. you’d pridefully and proudly called yourself the captain’s wife, head held higher than it had been before the silly ring on your finger. it was one thing to keep your marriage a secret—that you two had agreed upon—but to admonish your place in his heart? that was unmistakably cruel. your eyes met your lover’s as the men seemed to light-up at his words, applauding him for his dedication to the taskforce and military business. the display only made you want to revolt even more.
the drive home was quiet. normally you’d pretend to be a bit too drunk so that price could pretend to chivalrously take you to your apartment, but tonight you felt no need for such a foolish charade. there was simply no scent for your fellow task force members to follow because john had snuffed out that flame with his foolish banter. you sat bitterly brewing in your misery, flames of wicked jealousy licking at your heels with each passing moment. john could feel it radiating from you, the air too thick for him to swallow as he pridefully refused to concede and beg for forgiveness. the sheer thought of your husband standing by his bravado-littered statements covered you in a figurative sheen of vengeance. you were desperate for the opportunity to right him, to make him eat every little word he’d muttered. you had half the mind roll out of the moving car right this moment, but you decided against such reckless antics. instead, you’d decided to kickstart his own descent into delirium. there was nothing more tantalizing to your husband than making love to you, and perhaps that is where your edge lied.
the sight below you was gloriously sinful. your lover with flushed cheeks and tear-speckled eyes, precious blade of your combat knife nestled just beneath his jaw. your hand could slip and it would bring scarlet red droplets to the surface, giving him a closer shave than he’d bargained for. he knew this, and the thought made his cock stir inside your velvety walls. with each teasing roll of your hips a whimper fled john’s lips, soft pleas for your mercy. his eyes glistened at you as though you hung the stars, just as they were designed to. pressing the knife’s blade ever-so-lightly, you lifted your hips high enough that only the tip remained encased in your plush cunt. the action causes your husband’s brows to knit together as you hover there with the cruelest scowl you can manage. “please, love. ‘m sorry, daddy’s sorry,” he all but whimpers, hips stirring before halting at the feel liquid running down the side of his neck. you scoff at him, eyes narrowing as you lean closer to the object of your affection. your lips hover above his, breath fanning over his skin. “yeah? daddy’s sorry, hm?” he nods eagerly, knicking himself again in dumb desire to please you. you dip your head into the crook of his neck, deft tongue licking a stripe along the path of the stray droplet of blood. the action of ownership leaves your husband dizzy as an uncontrolled whimper leaves his lips. you hum, wicked grin pulling at your lips as you plop yourself down onto him. the fat of your ass claps against his thighs, and your head falls back at the feeling of being so full. you groan, rolling your hips forward just enough to catch your clit on the ridge of his pelvis. john’s hands instinctively move to clutch your hips, and you tut at him amusedly.
your cunt was driving john to insanity, and you weren’t too far behind him. the pace you’d set was increasingly tiring, but your abdomen continued to be set aflame with carnal desire. the clap of your ass against your husband’s lap resounded through the room as you fucked yourself—and him—stupid on his girthy length. orgasm after orgasm had rushed over the two of you, yet your desire for more never wavered. your grip on your beloved knife had since loosened enough that there was no true threat, though the thrill remained. your husband was beautifully fucked beneath you, lip quivering as his eyes struggled to stay open. your tight heat felt torturous, the sensation of your walls griping him like a vice bringing him to tears. your eyes intently glared down at your man, as much as you could while being fucked open. “can’t take anymore, love,” your husband whimpers, hands gripping your hips harshly as he weakly attempted to slow your movements. you huffed at him, hand moving to grip his jaw and force his gaze to yours. your gaze made his cock stir inside your plushy cunt. “you can take it,” you spat at him, squeezing his jaw at the hinges to force his mouth open. without thought you spat into your lover’s mouth, riding him with more tenacity as you felt your high approaching. “oh fuck,” he whined, head falling back from your gasp as you milked him for his last orgasm of the night. “you look at me when I fucking cum, and you remember who you settled down with, john,” you scold him, tugging on his dog tags to force him to meet your view again. the sight before you was picture worthy, pitiful fucked out captain gazing at you like you hung the stars in the sky; to him, you did. your orgasm swept you in a vicious wave of euphoria, thighs trembling as you moaned softly over your lover. the cant of your hips slows as you ride out your high, sweat-coated body leaning to press flush against his. john sighs, arms wrapping around you as he babbles apologies into your chest and neck. “never mean’ it, never say it again” he babbles softly, and you’re certain some of his brain oozed out from his ears with how thoroughly you’ve fucked him. with a sigh you untangle yourself from him, peering softly into his beautiful eyes before leaning to pepper kisses along his face. “i love you, John. thank you for letting me have this,” you hum softly. truly he could’ve called off the whole encounter, but he allowed you this relief. oh, what a lover you have.
likes + coments + rbs always appreciated <3 thx
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jymwahuwu · 9 months
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imagine jing yuan hypnotized assistant!darling into believing that she should always go to work without panties... that it's perfectly fine for her to lift up her skirt and show him her fat pussy lips and her cute clitoris..... her job is to stand next to him or sit on his lap, looking all pretty while he playing with her wet folds, cockwarming him.....pumping her full of his seed..... until months llate, when he sees a tiny baby bump on her belly, jing yuan knows the hypnosis is no longer needed 🤤🤤
ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable! :D
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-CW: yandere, dub-con/non-con, hypnosis, forced pregnancy
🤤Hypnosis… To add to the drama, you, as the Assistant to the Seat of Divine Foresight, have the honor of working for General Jing Yuan. You never noticed someone's burning gaze on you as you sorted papers and typed, but you did notice the gentle touch of a hand on your waist.
You have rejected the general's confession more than once. Jing Yuan still maintains his tranquility, smiles calmly, crosses his arms and listens to your reasons ("Just want to work", "General, you are very nice but not suitable for me" and other reasons).
What you don't know is that the only reason Jing Yuan didn't put you on the table and penetrate you was - some fantasy about being a little assistant. Pulling down your underwear directly is, of course, fine and feasible, but… what if you pull down your underwear yourself? This conflicts with your will and reason. Jing Yuan knows. He was thinking of a way. At that time, Penacony's advertisement appeared in front of him. Penacony is a planet known throughout the universe for its reputation for vacations and festivals.
Some dormant memories were awakened. Jing Yuan remembers - there is a technology on that planet that is recognized as safe but dangerous. The danger is…the technique of hypnosis is no longer something that appears in dreams and dramas. This technique can hypnotize the other person into living a normal life, but impose certain "unusual" rules on them, confusing their perception of normality and abnormality.
What if…applied to you?
Alas, I was almost late. Luckily I remembered not wearing underwear. This is rude.
You patted your chest gently and breathed in oxygen, your legs going weak. [General Jing Yuan] smiled and ordered you, "It's time to check your clothing and appearance." "Y-yes, General."
Without any mental burden, you pulled up your plain, black work skirt for him to check. There is no covering, you are naked, and your pubic hair has even been shaved according to the "work instructions". "Um, good. Next." You used your hands to spread your slightly thick labia as usual, revealing the most private and charming view inside, which caused a rumble of laughter in someone's chest. "come over."
You complied, muttering about how today's daily check-up was completed so quickly. You usually have to show it for at least ten minutes… your butt is sitting on his lap, like an obedient and beautiful bird. And his fingertips stroked your wet flesh, rubbing and swirling the little pearl, leaving water stains on his fingertips. After [Jing Yuan] told you that your breasts were also on display, you unbuttoned your conservative shirt and took off your bra without any hesitation.
Of course, you haven't forgotten the important rules of reproduction! Don't forget to rock yourself as that cock spreads your tight, twitching vagina and spreads your thighs. Although occasionally pleasure controls your brain like an electric shock, and you can't help but be afraid of the possibility of pregnancy, you should not deliberately allow his seeds to flow. This is not only basic professional ethics, but also your commitment to [Jing Yuan].
After multiple reproductions, signs of pregnancy appear. Jing Yuan released the control of hypnosis, and you were shocked to discover the changes in your body and sobbed, but don't forget that you are his assistant and future wife 💖
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r0-boat · 11 days
Note
can you do gamigin NSFW alphabet pls???
Of course a Lucifer Nsfw wouldn't be complete without his baby brother!
Gamigin NSFW alphabet
Cw: breeding, rough sex, primal sex
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Aftercare what's that? You mean that deep urge to hold you close, protect, heal and pamper you after breeding is called something?!
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Soft lap, comfy lap. Laying his head in your lap nuzzling his nose and your plush and inhaling your scent, curling up in your lap as you stroke his scales and fur. He could die happy.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Feeling his balls tightening up his shaft and squeezing as he fills you to the brim, He can't help but press his hand over your belly, digging his claws into the skin as he forces you down as far as you can go on his cock, making sure you take every drop.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Sometimes when you come over and after you use the shower he takes your towel he buries His nose into it before touching himself. If the towel is still slightly damp the harder he cums.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
You would be his first ever time He has no experience. He's going off of pure draconic instinct.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Doggy. Best to breed you with ;)
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Mating is supposed to be fun! Even if he's nervous he tends to make jokes when he's nervous. But after a certain point that goofy side all melts away into pure lust (more on that later)
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Clean, Not that he shaves... he just doesn't have hair down there.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He sees mating is a special thing! And he wants to express how he feels... He just doesn't know how to show it, even when He gets all sorts of advice from his older brothers. He doesn't know what humans do or The devil way to court doesn't feel right to him and he barely even knows how dragons court... Why is mating so hard?
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Burying his sharp teeth and his fist until he bleeds as he fucks a toy till it breaks growling and gnashing as he pretends it's you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Other than the canonical one he has a big breeding kink. Fuck how he wouldn't give to have a little family of his own... And not only that it gives him a sense of satisfaction to give everything he has to you, to claim you.
Don't try to squirm or move away you'll just unlock his predator instinct to hold you down His jaws bearing on your neck as he continues his brutal pace.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere everywhere. Especially in a shower, bathtub... Or skinny dipping You'll never see him the same again
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
You're naked wet body, You're naked wet body with new shampoo and sweet smelling soap. You're sweet freshly ravished body still smelling of another demon. When he finally gets going he can't control himself it's like he becomes a whole other person. Sweet baby Dragon becomes ravenous beast.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Actually not really, He's very eager to please, And he will always try anything once.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
His skill could definitely use work But hes so eager to pleasure you He eats you out like a starving man getting rougher and deeper with each flick, lick and suck.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
From slow and sensual to will break you. He tries not to lose control but he fails every time, once he has his very first taste of you He's hooked and he could never get off the drug that is you.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Don't tempt him He's not going to just be satisfied with one quickie. Will want more and more and more until before you know it He's ramming against you and the sun is already going down.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Like I said eager to please he is happy to experiment! Though he might be a little nervous the first time around.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
His stamina I dare say far surpasses Lucifer and Mammon. he is a dragon after all.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Doesn't understand toys. He rather just be inside of you.
It'll have to take some convincing ;)
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
If you think it's a good idea to tease a dragon be my guest. He might look teasable and cute at first glance but looks are very deceiving.
Gamigin also doesn't get teasing He rather just be inside of you.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Loud animalistic and unholy. Everyone in a radius will know, and it's so hard for him to keep his mouth shut. To keep him from howling at how good you're inside, clamp down around him. He bites into clothing, pillows, blankets, and even himself.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
When he's fucking you he slowly begins to become more dragon-like his skills start to appear on his body his claws become sharper and thicker than his canines get longer.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Yes.... He has two. And they're big
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Yes.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Yes holding you close as he snoozes away when he finally finally gets all of his pent up frustration out on you. He likes being the little spoon :)
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thus-spoke-lo · 3 months
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cw: gn!reader. use of haki against reader. yandere-ish shanks (reader is captive). using prompt from here. // Yandere Minific Masterlist
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You carefully straddle Shanks’ lap, settling into your quiet, morning routine. He offers you a sip of coffee, holding the warm cup to your waiting lips and letting you carefully drink, smiling softly at your demure “thank you” you give in return. He’d been wary at first of your offer to help him shave, eyeing you up and down, trying to see through you to your basest intentions. But the thought of a sweet thing like you sitting in his lap, carefully maneuvering a blade over his angular features while he enjoyed a glass of whiskey, tongue tucked between your lips in deep concentration, occasionally pausing to grind against him with a heated urgency…well it was simply too good to pass up.
You’ve been preparing for this moment for long enough by now, months of quietly pacing his quarters while he kept you locked away when he was gone for days at a time, leaving you to count the sunrises and sunsets and ration the food that he’d leave for you. He’d let his guard down enough at your request to help him with his grooming—surely a sign that you were beginning to acquiesce to your new life as a pirate’s concubine. From there, it was all practice, memorizing the topography of his features, deciding just where the blade should meet his throat
It’s now or never.
But before your arm can move, before the blade can even come close to that pulse point you’d been staring at for months on end, you’re knocked backwards by some unseen force. Air punches its way out of your lungs as you hit the wooden floor and the razor clatters to the ground beside you. Consciousness is still just barely in reach, and you cling to it desperately as you try to reach for the razor—but your limbs won’t move, not even a finger will respond to your will.
Shanks stands and glances down at you, cocking his head and letting out a hearty laugh as he realizes your eyes are still open and darting around the room. “My, my—you’re stronger than I thought!”
It was foolish to think you could ever overpower an emperor of the sea—you hadn’t gained his trust, nor had you dulled his ability to see you as a threat by means of honeyed words. Shanks, despite appearing to you as a drunken, lecherous pleasure-seeker, could see you for exactly what you are—a caged animal, one who had not yet accepted their fate and succumbed to the bleakness of captivity. You still had fight left in you, still had an escape or two inside you. And he was prepared.
Feeling starts to return to your left side, but only barely, and you grit your teeth and will your arm to move and reach for the razor that sits so close you can almost feel the cool metal between your fingers. Shanks stands over you, one heavy boot on either side of you, and clucks his tongue. He knocks the straight razor away with a soft kick and stares at you, a mix of pity and amusement settling into his features.
“Careful there, sweetheart,” Shanks grins, bending down to stroke your cheek with the rough pad of his thumb as you lay there. “You really don’t seem understand what I’m capable of.”
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darlingshane · 9 months
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Professor Castle
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Frank Castle x F!Reader
Summary: Frank has a weakness and it's named after you. No matter how much he tries to push you away he always returns to the same point.
CW: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Angst, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Fingering, Making out, Professor/Student relationships, Age Gap, Reader is an undergrad student in her early 20s. [I know this is very problematic. Don't come at me. It's just fiction.]
Word Count: 2.8k // AO3 Link.
A/N: This was inspired by this picture of Jon in Origin. I couldn't write for that character in particular, so I thought Frank was the best choice for it, even if it's a lot OOC.
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As you muster the courage to enter and confront Professor Castle, you observe him through the cracked door of his office. He looks as good as ever, freshly shaved, in one of his Bexley plaid shirts in white with blue plaid lines, and a dark tweed blazer on top. His hair has slightly curled from the humid weather. His glasses slip a little over the bridge of his nose when he looks down, and he pushes them back in place before tucking a folder in his leather case. You haven't seen him in a few days. Even when you submitted the form to drop his class you managed to leave it on his desk yesterday after he left home. And just early this morning before getting to campus you got an email from him from his uni account, formally denying your request to drop. You don't give a fuck about failing and having to take another course with a different teacher but after what he told you last weekend, you can't stay in his class any longer. It'd be like torture having to see him and not being able to be with him like you desire to.
Of course, you don't ever want to get him in trouble either, he has a lot more to lose than you. But if he doesn't want to see you anymore, then so don't you. So, after a moment of consideration you just clench your fist as hard as you can, set your jaw straight, and storm into the office without announcing yourself. The door slamming the door behind you is what alerts him of your presence. The loud sound makes his head snap up to look at you, standing as tall as you can.
“You can't force me to stay in your class.” You say firmly without raising your voice.
His brow knits behind the thin frame of his glasses as he processes your intrusion.
“No, I guess I can't force you. But I can't let you drop either. You missed the deadline. Unless you have a good excuse like a serious medical condition or emergency the school is not going to let you withdraw at this point. It's out of my hands.”
“Does dying of heartbreak count as a medical emergency?”
“Jesus Christ, you theater kids are really dramatic.”
“Hey, you're the one who told me to join a club.”
“Yeah, but I meant something else like uh… the debate team, the honor society, the newspaper, or the fucking model UN.”
“Well, I made my choice and so did you. I can't just keep showing up at your class and pretend that nothing happened. Can you just think of something? If I meant anything to you… just give me this, Frank.”
You never said his first name before on school grounds. It sounds like a curse word as it slips out of your mouth.
“There are only two months left. That's nothing. Are you telling me you're willing to throw all of that away for me?”
“Yes, because if I can't have you then I can't see you either.”
You catch when his Adam's apple anxiously goes up and down as you say that.
“This is all my fault. I should've never… I should've put a stop to it when I had the chance.”
“Frank—” You take a step closer to his desk, but he promptly holds a placating palm in the air to push you to a stop.
“Don't. Please. Don't throw away your future for me or for anyone for that matter. You're smart and young and strong enough to endure a few more classes. You'll be getting your bachelor's next year, sweetheart. After that… you won't even remember I was ever part of your life.”
“I won't ever forget. I'm begging you. Just let me go or take me back… but…” your frustration knots in your throat. “Stop pushing me away. I know you love me.”
“It doesn't matter if I do. We both have a lot to lose if they find out.”
“Nobody will. We'll be more careful… We could just start over somewhere else, just you and me.”
“Life is not a movie. It doesn't work like that. I know it feels like a matter of life or death right but when you're older—”
“Don't patronize me. I know what I feel. Just take me out of your class or don't. I won't show up either way.”
You turn around to leave the room at once but Frank quickly shuffles behind you and as you reach to grab the handle, he holds the door closed and secures the lock before your eyes.
“So help me God, you're gonna be the end of me, sweetheart.” His tone changes to an octave graver that sends a chill through your spine.
“What are you doing?” You turn around as he steps so awfully close you can capture the strong scent of his aftershave.
“You're going to stay in my class. Front row. Every Wednesday at 10. Then, you're going to ace your final in May. I don't ever wanna hear you again saying otherwise. Is that clear?” He states as a matter of fact, as if you had no choice but to comply with his demand.
“Why are you so convinced I will?”
You watch him up close as he takes off his glasses and lifts his opposite hand to frame your jaw. With conflicted thoughts he pushes your back against the wall, as his face leans to seize your mouth. Professor Castle slowly spells with his tongue all the secrets kept between you in just one beautiful kiss that leaves you breathless.
“Is that enough?” His head pulls back as he sets his glasses back over his eyes as you smooth the lapels of his blazer.
“I'm not sure,” you draw a breath and let the bookbag hanging on your shoulder fall to the floor. “I think I'm gonna need a bigger incentive.”
“There's never enough for you, huh?” he holds your jaw again and tilts your head to the side as he buries his mouth in the crook of your neck.
His lips hold some sort of spell that enchants your body with just a few nips on your skin. The tip of his tongue is laced with poison that intoxicates each and all of your senses as it juts out to leave a wet trace from your collarbone to the back of your ear before pulling back. His eyes turn darker behind the glass as he locks eyes with you. Your pulse picks up in your chest as he licks his lips and allows lust to take over. He watches his thumb trace the shape of your mouth before fiercely succumbing to the temptation of your lips once more, with feeling.
As your arms curl around his neck, his hands travel beneath the hem of your striped, knitted sweater to bask in the warmth of your skin. The sloppy sounds of your kisses sound like sin in this room. You should stop. He should too. But neither of you have enough strength to push the other away.
One of his hands stays pressed on your spine while the other travels down your denim skirt and slips underneath the hem. Hiking it up, his large palm shamelessly grabs your ass, molds your flesh to the shape of his fingers over your panties. Your skin quickly heats up and your mind swirls along the maddening rhythm of his tongue. He presses himself so hard against you, it feels like he's already fucking you, but it's the illusion of his fingers bluntly sliding between your legs and pressing over your opening, stirring a good moan out of you.
“Sh, sh…” he breaks the kiss and whispers a millimeter away from your mouth. “Gotta be quiet now, yeah?”
You simply nod, having his eyes gauging your expression changing as his hand viciously massages your pussy.
“Like that?” His lips pull up at the corners, and you mirror his expression as you softly pant.
“Fuck yeah.”
Then, you close your eyes and press your forehead to his shoulder, keeping your hands anchored to his arms as your juices stain the fabric of your underwear.
“You're dripping, sweetheart.” His voice echoes in your ear. “Is this what you want?”
He presses harder as your grip on him tightens.
“Yeah.”
For a second you think he's going to finish you right there but all of a sudden he stops.
“C'mere,” he locks your arms around his neck before lifting your ass in his hands without much effort. You tuck your legs around his hips as he takes turns around and walks toward the desk.
Keeping you secured in one arm, Frank blindly moves the stuff in the middle before carefully lowering you down on the wooden surface. While you lay on your back, he sits on his chair and brings your ass close to the edge. Instead of letting your legs dangle, he places your feet on each arm of his chair as he kisses one of your knees.
“God, you're so beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin as he rolls down the fabric of one of your thigh-high stockings to uncover your leg. He does the same with the other stocking before letting his lips get his reward.
The inside of your thigh leads a straight road down to hell. After last weekend, he promised himself he would never cross that line again, but he has a weakness, and it’s named after you. It's taken him through a dangerous path that puts everything he ever believed into question. He could lose his job and his reputation if someone were to cross the door to his office and find you spread like a meal ready to consume. It's lunchtime after all, and he can't think of anything better to feast on other than you. His lips trail that perdition-paved road on your thigh as his fingers softly brush the back of your leg. Your skin sticks out as you pull your knees further apart to make room for his face as it gets closer to your center. The corner of his glasses gently pokes the top of your thigh when he reaches that crucial point. You bite your lip and stare at the broken fixture on the ceiling and try to keep yourself from moaning when he pulls your panties to the side. He stretches the fabric as far as it goes, it makes a tearing sound, but it doesn't break. You couldn't care less if he rips them apart. It wouldn't be the first time either. He’s ruined two pairs already. Professor Castle has a wild side that only comes untamed when he’s with you. But this is different. He's never gone down on you right in his own office on campus like he's about to do. You both know the implications of that, but rules be damned right now. All that worry floats out of your head as his tongue makes first contact with your pussy. He draws a line from your opening up to your clit ever so softly before pulling your outer lips apart and diving in. He has just an ounce of restraint himself from going too hard and making you scream out in pleasure, even though he wants so badly to suck on your clit to hear you pleading for more. To stir out of your voice call out his name and title out of sheer joy. But he holds back. He presses an array of kisses and nibbles all over your folds as you close your eyes to focus on the torturing slow pace of his tongue. Your nipples are hard as a rock under your bra, your legs strain to stay in position when Frank slowly laps around your clit, collecting your arousal as your breathing hollows. He places a palm on your stomach, right under your sweater and catches the effects of his mouth in the way your body reacts. There’s an added edge to doing this right here, it makes his cock throb in his underwear as you mumble his name.
“Frank.” It comes out as a murmur, and he hums against your tender skin before going a little harder. There’s only so much he can do to up the pace and make you come without alerting anyone behind that door of what’s happening inside.
We'll be more careful, you said. He eats out your words straight out of your sex.
To speed up the process uses his other hand to slip two fingers into your opening and press on your g-spot. Your back arches in response. Frank has to press that hand on your abdomen a little harder to keep you from squirming too much. It feels like an eternity until you reach the point of no return, once you're there you can feel that fire burning bright at your core as a mind-numbing chill settles at the back of your head. You've never felt that intense jolt sparking your body like fireworks before. Then again you don't have much to compare him to other than the one and only boyfriend you had when you started college.
You grip at his hair as he cues your orgasm. With a strong flick of his tongue and that adamant pressing of your walls you finally come undone. You bury a moan in your throat as every cell of your body is touched by that wildfire that travels from your center out in every direction. It curls your toes in your shoes, your eyes shut, your knees clench together before he can pull his face away. As the orgasm ebbs he sets himself free from your thighs and watches you descend from cloud nine. He uses a tissue to clean up your cunt and fixes your panties to their former position. Then, Frank settles your legs down as your body goes completely limp, and straightens your skirt over your thighs with such love it almost makes you cry.
“Frank,” your voice comes out watery.
“Sh, it's okay, baby. I know. Come here.” He helps you up and pulls you onto his lap.
“I missed you.”
“I know.” He smiles against your hair as he snuggles you against his chest. “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.”
You clear your throat and stay still for a minute while his hand soothes your back before noticing he’s still hard.
“Do you want me to take care of this?” You fondle his bulge over his pants.
“No, that’s okay. That’s my punishment for hurting you.” He takes your hand away, brings it up to his lip to kiss your knuckles.
“You really have a thing for punishment, huh?” You quip, lifting your head to look at him. It’s then that you notice his messed up hair and send our fingers to fix it.
“Not as much as you do.” His hand pats your ass reminding you of all those times you've begged him to spank you when you were being a brat.
You laugh as you take off his glasses and use the hem of your sweater to clean them.
“Can I come over this weekend?” You ask putting his eyewear back on.
“I have that wedding I told you about. Can't get out of it, I'm the best man.”
“Right. Of course. One of your marine buddies. Florida, right?”
“Yeah.” His stare goes down as he massages your hand thinking that maybe… “You could come with me if you want.”
“I uh… I don't think I'm ready for that.”
“No, you are. Nobody will know you there, and I don't wanna keep lying about you, at least not to my friends. They won't give a fuck, you know? I'm tired of being set up for blind dates and shit.”
“Oh, it must be really hard being you.” You mock.
“Don't laugh. Just think about it. It'll be something casual at the beach. I'll get you a ticket if you're worried about that.”
“I really changed your mind, did I? That's a full 180 from what you said the other day, Frank. Are you sure you want this?”
“Yeah, I was only fooling myself thinking that I could stay away from you. Which I would've if you hadn't shown up here with a fucking attitude. But you're right, we'll have to be more careful from now on.”
“And we can do whatever we want in Florida.”
“Yeah, you wanna come?”
“Only if you really want me there.”
“I wouldn't be asking if I didn't.”
“Then I'll go with you.”
You press your lips sweetly against his and let them bounce together for a moment before getting back to reality. You pull up your stockings all the way up and fix up your clothes before collecting your bag from the floor. But Professor Castle can't help but stall for a bit longer to kiss you once more until you have no choice but to run to your next class.
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rodolfoparras · 9 months
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Pairing: John Price x Male reader
Cw: sexual tension
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Sergeant,” Price says as you search for the shaving tools located in his very small bathroom.
You just wave him off with your hand, silently cheering when you find what you were looking for before instructing him to take a seat on the toilet lid.
Price is quick to do as you say, before proceeding to try and undo the buttons on his shirt with his injured hand.
Eventually with some struggles he gets the shirt unbuttoned but has no success in taking it off.
“Here let me help” you say standing so close your knees knock together as your warm hands gently push his away.
Price only manages a nod in response trying to ignore the heat creeping up his neck ears and cheeks as you help take off his clothing.
“Are you cold?” You say, probably noticing the goosebumps rising on his skin.
“No just get on with it” he grunts out, tipping his chin up.
You just chuckle at his antics before you lather up his face, watching the grays in his beard get coated in shaving cream.
“Just the chin and -“
“And a bit of the cheeks I know” you say with a playful smile on your face as you take the razor in your hand.
“You’re one grumpy old man you know?” You say with a chuckle, eyes flickering up to see the look on his face only to realize just how close you are standing to the older man.
For a second you feel yourself getting lost in those cerulean eyes; the way his black lashes fan against his cheeks, and the way his rosy lips stand out amongst the white foam lathered onto his skin.
“Tilt your head up a bit more” you say voice breathy and strained, forcing yourself to break the eye contact to focus on the task at hand.
He does as you say and although you’re no longer looking at him, you can feel the way his eyes follow your movements as you gently drag the razor across his cheek
Once you’re done with his cheeks. you move down to his chin, slowly but surely uncovering a faded scar on his skin.
He must’ve noticed you looking at it because he starts to speak
“I got it when I first enlisted” he says voice tinted with embarrassment “fell face first, ended up with a big scar right on my face, thought a beard would do a good job at covering it up”
Before you can even register what you’re doing your thumb caresses the scarred skin.
Your eyes flicker up to meet his own and once again you loose yourself in them.
For a second it feels like he’s leaning in closer because before you know of it you’re a hair away from his lips and you completely forget what you’re doing in the first place because suddenly your hand jerks and you’re drawing blood on his cheek.
Price hisses and quickly pulls away.
“Shit! Sorry sorry,” you say, watching the way he quickly walks over to the sink.
What you don’t see is the way he tries to blink back the haze from his eyes, the way he prays and hopes the cool water is enough to sooth his blush and the way his pulse is roaring in his ears as he cleans the blood of his cheek.
After wiping his face completely he returns back to his seat.
“I’m really so-“
“It’s fine,” he grunts out in response “Just get it done and over with sergeant,” he says, this time avoiding your gaze and nervously tapping on his leg
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percy-puppy · 8 months
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Headcanon: Thinking of the 141!men having an afab!partner with body hair.
About: CoD Men || Task Force 141
CW: 18+ Blog/Post | MDNI, afab!reader, reader with body hair, pubic hair, talks about bullying in school, judgment, puberty, insecurity, sex (oral/reader receiving, PIV/penetrative sex, switch!dynamic, body worship, s&m), hair pulling, not proofread
A/N: Anyone else struggling with posting on the smartphone app? Like Tumblr? What's going on? Anyway, this is for my bestie who ranged about the lack of representation. @mothymunson 💕
🎀Price: Price is a hairy, hairy man. God, he is so fuzzy, and it's so hot. Obviously, he doesn't care if his partner is hairy, either. It would be hypocritical of him, really. In fact, he would be an encouraging force. It's lots of work to keep shaved and smooth, and should you feel comfortable with just no longer shaving, then why not? He is happy when you are, and just because society expects something doesn't mean you have to obey. Price would support it fully, showering you with praise as you unlearn the old “values” taught from a way too early age and drop the trauma all the comments in your puberty gave you when body hair became more prominent. He teaches you a new, healthy form of confidence and, in the shortest time, “It's just hair, love.”
🎀Soap: Johnny is… Let's be honest; that man is a feral mutt. He might shave sometimes, not often, though honestly, but body hair on his partner? He can't explain it, but that bush gets him going. He is one to drop the “the wilderness must be explored” sentence when you first get together and are insecure about his reaction. He will beg you to let him eat you out, swearing on everything that's holy to him that he doesn't mind your pubic hair at all. And, damn, he isn't lying. He doesn't care, although he does—It makes him feral. The following hours are spent with the scot’s head between your legs. Also, before you bother to worry, a hair on his tongue will just be removed, “It's locks, bonny. Happens sometimes,” he’d laugh, and go back to work, nose buried in your hair as he sucks on your clit.
🎀Gaz: That boy is always shaved. It's his personal preference. When you first mention your difference (cause a man with a negative reaction isn't even worth your time), he is surprised. It's not in a bad way, though. He just knows enough people are giving in to the pressure of shaving. He is curious, ashamedly so. You see, the curiosity effect when somebody tells you they have a piercing down there? That's what it feels like for him now. He’d sheepishly ask to take the next step, unsure what he even expects since it's just hair at the end of the day. But once you take things to the next level, it suddenly clicks. It's your confidence—the raw, unashamed, natural being. You're unashamedly yourself, every imperfection perfection, and your most potent weapon. When he hit puberty, he was insecure for a long time before he had his glow-up. He was never tall or beefy enough, just always picking himself apart by comparing himself to others. Today, he is confident as hell, but the 13-14-year-old boy he once was would be on his knees worshipping a person like you, just fully defying social expectations. He always felt a little bit like worshipping you, but your naked form bouncing on top of him absolutely breaks him. He babbles praises between panting and moaning, hands moving over every inch of your body. “You're so hot. Shit, don't stop, you're just so- fuck. Fuck me. God, please.” He did not know he was a switch, and all he needed was a confident partner.
🎀Ghost: Simon isn't nearly as hairy as the other men. He sometimes trims his pubic hair, but mostly, he just isn't hairy enough to even care about it. He also doesn't care about your hair. It's just hair. But at night, his sadistic side comes through. During sex, he will tug on your bush for fun, sometimes just shortly before slapping your tit, sometimes he’ll just pull and pull like a maniac while fucking into you. The delicious pain sends electric shocks through your sobbing cunt as he pounds you toward orgasm. Should you ever shave or trim it, he will most definitely pout a little as he lost his favorite toy. Thankfully it's just hair, it’ll grow back, and until then, he’ll focus on slapping your clit and pulling your nipples. It's okay. He’ll survive.
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gremlingottoosilly · 10 months
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Your ride is here (dark!Ghoap x fem!Reader)
CW and tags: Non-con, poly, group sex, size kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat, forced orgasms, praise, humiliation I really really adore @ohbo-ohno and @ceilidho for their amazing takes on writing dark fics with Ghoap and fem!Readers Word count: 3794 AO3
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You were already way too drunk when you got out of the bar. It was an annoyingly loud party, too many people you never even knew – you thought that it would be nice since it’s a nice bar and not some weird tech music club, but it didn’t really matter in the end. You were still wasted, head spinning around and headache already forming with bile in your throat every time you opened your eyes. Your phone is dead, your brain is barely working, and the only thing you wish to do right now is to curl down in a small ball and cry. 
You barely managed to call for an Uber before your phone blinked one last time and turned off – and judging by the fact that the somewhat kinda, big-ish car was the only one in the dim alleyway, you assumed it was your ride. Hopefully, you’ll get home as soon as possible, get a shower, clear your stomach from alcohol slowly brewing into nausea, and fall asleep. 
You’re far too drunk to notice that the driver didn’t even ask for your name when you got inside. 
— H…hey there. You’re my driver, yea? 
You force the words out of your mouth as you slowly duck your head into the car and settle on the backseat before the guy even says anything. He is pretty, somewhat – a weird fucking haircut for sure, but has a roguish charm of a boy you might meet at the nearest gas station shop. You’re way too buzzed to think of him in any romantic way, but he is nice to look at, and you’re staring to the point of being inappropriate. 
He smiles, and you feel your cheeks heating up – probably just alcohol working its way up your system. But he looks nice and probably would feel nice in bed, too – he clearly forgot about shaving for a few days, and you almost think about the way it would feel on your face. Or between your legs. Or just right on your…
— Aye, it’s me. 
You can see his cheeks getting flushed as he stares back at you. The situation becomes slightly more weird with each passing moment, but he taps on his phone, probably searching for a map. You turn your head to look at the blurry image – not like you have any knowledge of the area, transferring here for your big girl job and trying to make your way in the city that couldn’t care less about you or your feelings. 
You press your cheek against the car seat, leaning over to help him. 
— It’s on…yeah, um, Maple 37-12. I think I might have typed the address incorrectly on the app. 
— Thank ye, lassie. 
He quickly turns on the map to head over to your house, and you smile, happy about your management skills even as you’re still drunk as hell. You allow your head to fall on the backseat headrest again, closing your eyes just for a second. It’s a long ride home, and you already regret every decision that made you go to this fucking party. 
The driver is chatty. 
Really fucking chatty. 
— So, where do you work? Ye shouldn’t be up in that hour. 
You grumble something in the answer, not wanting to speak too much. Your brain isn’t built for this kind of pressure right now. 
— Yer boyfriend goin’ to pick ye up? 
You slightly wince at the words, another reminder of how utterly alone you were. Of course, if you had a boyfriend or even some close, responsible friends, you would ask them to help you with a ride home – you never trusted public transport at this hour, and uber is often varies between a last resort and a stranger danger on wheels. 
— Don’t have any. 
Your brain is far too drunk to even comprehend why you didn’t just lie that a mysterious boyfriend will meet you. Somehow, the expression of the driver – he called himself Johnny with such a beautiful boyish smile that it made your toes curl – made you feel dizzy and light in the head. God, you don’t want to act like a high school sweetheart, but all of those drinks made you feel lonely. 
— No way. A wee bonnie like ye shouldnae be alone. 
You lick your lips, trying not to sound too miserable. You’re failing. 
— I’m focusing on my career. 
He actually laughs at that, and you feel even more embarrassed. 
— Career? How does that work out for ye? 
You just grumble at the answer, not wanting to bury yourself even deeper. Truth be told, it’s not what you expected when moving to a new city – you don’t know anyone, don’t have any friends here, your life has started from a blank point, and there is really nothing for you to do besides trying to connect with some uptight work buddies in a grimy bar. 
Driver says something else – just general questions, something about the weather. Silly jokes that make you snort and reconsider your sense of humor – he is really nice for a cab driver, and you kinda want to just listen to him talk over and over again. You kinda just want to close your eyes and sleep, but you suddenly realize that you need to charge your phone in order to check the payment – you don’t think you have enough cash in your purse, and you don’t want to make the driver’s life even more miserable. He must be low on money to work at this hour, and you kinda feel bad enough to leave him a big tip after all of this, especially if you would end up throwing up all over his nice, big car. It's suited for some brutal man from war movies, not an Uber driver. 
— Hey, sorry. Can I charge my phone for a bit? 
He smiles even more, getting you the required cable – you plug your phone finally, for the first time in the past few minutes, seeing your home screen again. God, this is late hours – you never got home at this time before. 
The car takes an unexpected turn, and you swing your head to look at the window – you don’t recognize the area. Of course, the road was dark, and you lived far away, but even with your blurry mind and hazy memories of the street you moved to,  you knew this wasn’t right. The driver is nice and all, but you feel like he made a mistake by relying only on Google Maps. You hope he made a genuine mistake, at least. 
— Um, sir? 
— Aye, lassie? 
He looks so innocent it immediately drops you off guard. You lean closer to him, a phone still in your hand – you were trying to refresh the Uber app quite a few times already, but it somehow never showed you the price you were supposed to pay for the trip – and try to sound as chill as possible. No use in making a scene, you both are tired, and he probably wants to get done with you as soon as possible. 
— I think you took a wrong turn. My street should be on the right side. 
— Didnae think I did. 
— What do you mean? My home isn’t…
The app blinks, and you look at it, trying to concentrate on the obscenely bright screen, punishing your eyes for simply having those. You lick your lips, blood running cold. 
You stare at the “Your driver will be here in 5 minutes”. With a description of a car that couldn’t be more different than the car you were in. 
With the driver, whose name wasn’t even remotely “Johnny”. 
***
Soap wasn’t intending to bring a girl home. What he intends is to find a nice chip place near the bar he and Simon used to go to together and then bring something home to eat because, of course, Lt came home before him, and his cooking skills are almost as bad as his jokes. Simon is a mad dog that will probably eat anything provided and isn’t against chewing on his shoes in case of an emergency, but he doesn’t want him to do this off-deployment. 
Johnny literally just wanted to buy some grub, get it home warm, and take off drinking beer and watching some mindless shit on the TV. Preferably with Simon by his side because their relationship cannot be defined by any labels, and he as a nice fucking ass. 
Well, turns out random drunk girls who slammed into his car just when he got the takeout bag securely on the front seat have nice asses too. And Soap can’t think of the last time he had his dick smothered by a woman’s lips and not his fist or, somehow, Simon’s hand. 
You’re pretty, drunk, and kinda dumb – just like he loves them. Silly girl, really, what did you expect when your phone is dead and you have no other means of contacting safety. He saw you approaching the car, not even looking at his plate – you probably wouldn’t remember when he would dump you in the morning. Not that he would, of course, pretty dumb girls like you should be protected, and his job is, well, protection itself –  he can drag you to his and Ghost’s apartment like a trophy in his teeth. 
He licks his lips, enjoying the expression of fear slowly creeping on your face. You’re so drowsy, so adorable, he can’t help but smile widely when you’re panicking. You try to open the door, but, of course, it’s child-locked. Fitting for someone who behaves like one. 
The last time he tried to convince a girl to have a threesome with him and Simon, she preferred to just watch them awkwardly jerk each other off. The last time he tried to convince a guy for a threesome with him and Simon, Johnny spent the whole night in the corner, blue-balled and lonely, as the twink preferred to suck Lt until he’d cum like two times in a row. 
Johnny knows that if he wants a chance for something other than a sloppy seconds, he will have to accept a quick car fuck, possible kidnapping, and forging marriage documents for a pretty girl he just locked in his car because why the hell not, why can’t a handsome Scotsman just kidnap a drunk girl who mistook him for an Uber driver. 
He stops the car in a more or less secluded area – poor bird, you’re still trying to bump your way out of the door with your shoulder, only risking dislocating it. The car was a fucking tank in disguise, the only thing that could survive Ghost’s driving skills – there is no way you would be able to get it to open without the owner wanting you to. Soap licks his lips, turning to you. Hell bells, you look divine. 
Tears in your eyes, panicked expression, hands curling into fists as you’re trying to get out of your personal nightmare, no matter how drunk you are. Poor baby, he really feels bad for you – you’re so sweet, so trusting, there is no way he was the first guy to ever try to harm you like this. Sergeant might like to think of himself as being more or less in touch with normal people, but when he sees a pretty girl in trouble, he wants nothing more but to become her trouble. 
He opens the car just for a second from the driver’s seat – he needs to get to you, after all, just looking at you, trapped in the backseat, won’t be enough for the throbbing erection he has in his pants. You try to fight him as he heavily lingers on you, almost crushing you under his weight. Car isn’t nearly big enough for someone like him to comfortably sit in normal position on top of you, so Johnny uses one hand to drag you back, deeper into the seat, and the other hand – to unbuckle his belt, proving to be fucking beautiful with his fingers. 
You look so pretty, he can’t help but snap a few pictures for the group chat – dumb idea at first, as he thought, but now he can’t wait for the Captain to see what a pretty catch he has on his arms. The last mission was pretty rough, and they all deserve a pretty thing to cover themselves in fear and tremble under them after they fuck her, one after one. Might even bring you to Captain’s house, show you what a good girl you can be for your daddy if given a chance. 
Soap smirks as he drags his hard cock out of his pants. Your eyes are wide in shock – he might not be the biggest of the group, Lt has the crown rightfully and deservingly, but it doesn’t mean that the Scot is small. Thicker than average, leaking pre-cum already – has been since you first got into the car, all cute and disoriented. He had to waste quite a few minutes driving you as far from civilization as possible without alarming your pretty, dazed head about anything – now he can reap his prize. A part of it, anyway. 
You cry and squirm, trying to fight him off when he pushes his hand into your hair and tugs angrily – you’re simply too fucking weak to be a reasonable challenge, so Johnny only laughs when he can put your fight with a single press on your windpipe. You cough, struggling again – soon enough, you learn to just stop and allow him to lead. Good girl, can be trained so well – you’d make a good soldier if you weren’t so pretty and so vulnerable. 
— Don’t make me break yer nose, lassie. Open up, aye? 
He smiles, too warm for the situation – you don’t understand what you did to deserve this, his hand presses your throat in a tight embrace, and you can’t do anything but squirm and try somehow to use your legs to fight – but oh, you’re far too drunk to do this. You whimper, and your head spins and aches with each hiccup, leaving your lips. Such a pathetic sight to see, you could almost feel bile in your throat as he pressed his cock closer to your lips, smearing bitter liquid all over your closed mouth. 
— Pl…please, don’t do this, don’t… what do you want? Money? I will give you money, or my phone, or…
He groans, the waiting time for this pretty girl is far too long already. He doesn’t want to hurt you, you’re too soft for this – a thought of slapping your face lingers in his mind, but ruining your pretty cheeks won’t be efficient in this case. Johnny tugs on your hair, hoping it will be enough to set you straight – he doesn’t want you to pass out from pain, after all. Already too merciful with just using your throat and now that tight ass hiding underneath your dress. 
Your words are slurred, hazed, your tongue can’t move quite right enough – still too drunk, and lack of fresh air only makes you go dumber by each second. Soap only lets go of you when he is sure you’re far too gone to try and bite him – still, he pushes his two hands in your mouth, opening you wide as you gag and cough. 
— Don’t worry yer pretty head ‘bout it. Just take me, and then we’ll go home. 
He will ride you home, make you ride him, and make you some really nice breakfast later. He will carefully wipe away the damp makeup from your face – poor girl, you’re crying too much and ruined all of your hard work on this skin – and send some pretty pictures to the group. But, hey, he can snap a couple right now. 
With one hand still in your mouth, he awkwardly moves his hips so his cock can point right against your lips – and presses down, making you gag more and more as he slowly but surely pushes his cock inside of your tight, warm mouth. God, this is the heavens – he can’t remember the last time he had such an amazing blowjob from such a cutie. Gaz would fucking love you. 
You’re so pretty from this angle, coughing on his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks – Johnny tells you to smile for the camera and snaps a couple of pictures. Group chat was an amazing idea, after all – he can’t wait to share some more cute videos once you’ve settled it. The feeling of your warm mouth on his cock is absolutely divine – you’re tight, probably inexperienced, and he relishes in the fact he might be the biggest cock you ever took in your pretty lips. 
You try your hardest to pull away, but he keeps you close, a hand tugs on your hair again, making you cry harder. Soap is so sorry, bonnie, he will make it up to you later – will eat your pretty cunt sloppily, maybe mess with your ass a bit, making sure you’re all wet and open for the members of his team and their members. He snorts at the thought. smiling as you’re still fighting the urge to puke. 
— Like this, aye? Don’t fuckin’ try to bite me, I don’t want to prick yer teeth off. 
Threat lingers in your panicked mind as he drags his hips back before slamming in your mouth again, his balls slapping your chin with an obscene sound. The drool is leaking down your lips, creating a mess on the car seat – it’s not a problem, really, he will clean it later. Maybe would have to change the fabric of the seating for something less damp if he plans to fuck you in the car more. And oh, aren’t they all planning to do this? 
His phone rings when he was least expecting it – skull emoji on the display. No name, no photo – of course. He must have predicted that Lt would like some of the fun beforehand. Well, Soap isn’t the one to hoard every trophy to himself – even if he really wants to be the first with a pretty girl. 
He loves his team – and they will love you as much. 
He picks up with a smug grin on his face, staring at the screen. His moans become louder, grunts that make your cheeks burn as you just know he is faking it for more theatrics – pressing his phone between his cheek and a shoulder, leaving his friend to listen to his pleasure. Licking his lips as Ghost groans, a familiar sound of an unbuckled belt clanging somewhere in the background. You sob, trying to trash out of his hold again – he only presses you deeper, your nose flattening against his pubic bone. 
— Couldn’t fuckin’ wait, Jonny? Simon sounds tired, angry, jealous even – his sergeant smiles wider, slowly removing the phone from under his cheek and going into video call instead – showing your pretty face, all smothered with pre-cum, ruined makeup, and tears. You look so pretty, so perfect, he moves his hips more to remind you to suck on his cock and not just stare at him like a pretty kitten. He loves you like this, of course, but his dick twitches without proper movement, and Johnny was never the one for patience. Only for bombs, maybe. 
Well, you’re a freaking bombshell, aren’t ye. 
— Sorry, Lt. Dumb thing thought I was her ride. 
The other man snorts. They both laugh – a cruel sound, taunting your ears. You whine and cry, feeling the cock in your mouth pulsating. You try to turn away from the camera, but it’s impossible with a hand still pressing down on your head – you can only close your eyes, poor attempt at saving your dignity. God, you feel absolutely trashed. Soap adores that defeated look in your eyes. 
— And you aren’t? 
— Still a better driver than you, sir. But no, not this time. Can give her a ride, though. 
You hate their laughing, hate the way he is gently caressing your head like you’re a threatened animal and not a living, breathing being. He is being soft with you, like he isn’t forcing his way into your mouth – like he isn’t showing your fucked face to his friend. You hate the way your pussy burns, wet from humiliation, and the soft retirement you’re receiving. Bastard isn’t even thinking of your pleasure, and maybe that’s good. You don’t want to like it. 
— Goin’ bring her home? 
— Aye. Would look bloody adorable on our bed. 
They both snort while your blood runs cold. You hoped, you prayed he would let you go after this – traumatized, but mostly alive and well. You have a job, you have a life, and you can’t be fucking “taken home” to some bastard’s bed while he is using you like a sex toy. You try to squeeze your teeth on his dick, maybe do at least something to make him let you go – but Soap strikes your cheek with unknown anger, making you squirm in his grasp. You sob. 
— Don’t break her yet, Johnny. 
— Sorry. Dumb thing tried to bite me. 
— Doesn’t know any better. Gaz had a special muzzle for dumb girls. 
— Too tight for my dick. 
— Bloody hell, Mactavish. Don’t get too cocky. 
— Never intended to, sir. 
He pushes his dick deeper into your mouth. Your cheek burns from the slap, you can almost feel the bruise forming – and the bastard just tugs on your hair, filling your throat with sticky, disgusting cum. You drink it all, no use in trying to choke yourself on his seed when you’re already set in his hold. 
— How is her mouth? 
— Fuckin’ heaven, Lt. 
— I noticed. You finished fast, even for you, Johnny. 
— I’ll try better next time. Maybe get our dollie off after. 
— Selfish, Mactavish. 
— We all deserve to be selfish. 
Soap has the fucking audacity to wipe your mouth after you finish drinking it all, pushing the remaining cum and drool back on your tongue. He gently patted on your head, then made a small apology for being too rough. Was never his intention. 
— Sorry, bonnie. Don’t try to fight again, aye? You’re too tired to answer, and he just cradles your head against his chest. You whimper and cry, pleading senselessly for him to leave you – he only snaps even more photos of your tear-stained face. God, he can’t wait to bring you home. You’ll look heavenly as a fucktoy for the whole team. 
— L..let me…
— Naw, lassie. Shut up and let me take you where you belong. You’ll love it, promise. 
He kisses your forehead before moving to the front seat again. 
You clutch to the seat in silence, bitter taste of his cum still lingering on your tongue. 
923 notes · View notes
yanderederee · 9 months
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SocialCues
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a/n: Been feeling a little down lately.. very self-comfort, but I hope anyone else who has deep rooted anxiety and poor social skills can appreciate this…
cw: depictions of bullying and self-degradation/anxiety. Angst/Comfort
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Why did this always happen? How, even?
You seriously couldn’t wrap your head around how you always found yourself in these damned situations…
After being left alone at your desk, you quietly listened as the classmate who had just walked away whispered to themselves.
“What a freak…”
What did you even do? A freak? You were rightfully polite and pleasant, just as you always have been.
Did you say something wrong? Something weird? All you did was ask your classmate about their dog. Out of all the subjects you were taught to bring up in conversation, pets and hobbies were a universal win. (Strictly of the other person, because if you started going on a rant about your own pet or hobbies, you would make the person feel awkward and at a loss for words.)
How is it you always had a way of making everyone you talk to feel so awkward and bored?
But it was so lonely being forced into submissive quietness. You may have hated that more than the quiet glares of others. So still, you try to do your best and talk to people.
But only after a month of trying, it was evident that others were beginning to avoid you. To avoid talking to you. Avoiding eye contact.
You repeated what you’ve been told over and over again.
Saying less is more.
Use considerate language; words and phrasings.
Don’t make the conversation about yourself.
Avoid too specific points of conversation.
Read their facial expressions.
If they look desperate to leave, end the conversation quickly as to not bother them further.
Maybe being too conscious of what you said was your downfall?
But seriously, what else could you do? If you tried being casual, you make it awkward. If you tried too hard, you make it awkward. And if you don’t try at all, you force yourself into isolation.
Once lunch time rolled around, you started your way to the bathrooms to wash your hands before eating. How could you eat when your hands were covered in eraser shavings and lead stains? However, just at the threshold of the bathroom entrance, you could hear a conversation.
“L/n just doesn’t know when to shut up, does she?”
“Seriously! I can’t even get in a word with her!”
“Really? I just felt like she wasn’t even there when I tried talking to her! Like, she was waiting for me to ask her questions or something.”
“She asks way too many questions, like, why are you so obsessed with me?”
“She doesn’t really have much of a personality, I can’t stand people like that!”
“I dunno, I just can’t stand her.”
Honestly, they were pretty loud. People around the bathroom could definitely hear whoever it was talking.
You honestly didn’t even know how to react.
Maybe this was a good thing? At least this way you knew what you were doing wrong. Unfiltered criticism on how you could do better. So silently, you stood and listened.
It really hurt, hearing people talk about you like this. But it was your fault in the first place. Suck it up. Do better. Be better.
Holding back your tears, you fidgeted with your fingers. It was no good. You were bound to burst out in tears at any second.
“Oi.” Out came a sudden call. Startled, your heart leapt out of your chest. Looking up, you saw your classmate, Baji Keisuke, holding three filing boxes of what you assumed to be pre-graded tests and other miscellaneous paperwork. “Lend me a hand, would ya? Teach wants these taken to the teachers lounge before lunch’s over.”
It took you a few seconds to properly register that he was actually talking to you. Though it was hard to tell, given his huge thick rimmed glasses. Once it finally clicked that he was actually talking to you, a wave of embarrassment hit you hard.
“Me? Oh, uhh… o-okay.” You agreed slowly, looking at your dirty hands. You guessed it would be more suitable to wait to wash your hands after carrying a dusty box. Somewhat relieved, you nodded and walked over to your black haired classmate, gingerly shifting the top most box out of his face, into your grip. “Just this one is fine, or should I grab another..?”
You began to ask, until you were met with awkward silence.
SHIT. YOU DID IT AGAIN? Already? Embarrassed to the point of tears, you started down. “S-sorry, dumb question.”
Your classmate seemed disgruntled at your comment. Self pity never looked good. You were just digging yourself into a more massive hole. Just shut up and take the boxes.
Lift your fair share.
Almost forgot that rule.
Just as you went to shuffle the second box out from his grasp, your class mate stepped back. “I got these, just the one is fine.” He said.
“Just the one?” You asked.
“Yeah.. I mean, not to sound like an ass— I mean, um…” he clicked his tongue, trying to think of a better way to rephrase his comment.
“You can say ass, I don’t care.” You giggled quietly. You were faking it a little, what with how shot your confidence was already. But it was cute watching Baji flounder for the right words.
“Right. What I mean is, I’m probably stronger than you are, carrying these isn’t any issue. I just needed help with the third one since it was blocking my view.”
That made sense. He was damn near a foot taller than you after all. And he didn’t seem to struggle with the load in strength. Your silence made your classmate a little on edge.
“I ain’t trying to call you weak or anything. Shit. Just.. lets go.” He huffed before starting his way to the stair case.
Following close behind, you were scrambling your head with how to reply. Do you need to reply? But he sounded a little unsure of his own phrasing, sometimes validation was good for these kinds of situations.
‘It’s okay, I didn’t think you were calling me weak.’
Simulating the conversation in your head, you give up, rationalizing that your comment would more than likely go unanswered anyway.
Lost in these thoughts, you trailed behind Baji silently.
That’s right.
When it doubt, just be quiet. Just. Be quiet.
And it seemed your classmate was content with this as well.
Just as you were rounding the stairs, you were suddenly overwhelmed by a group of boys roughhousing with one another, laughing and unbothered. Before you even had the chance to move out of their way, a boy had rammed into your side hard. This caused for a series of unfortunate events.
Being as you were just making your way down the stairs, this rash shove caused you to lose your balance, trip over your feet, and topple forward. It wasn’t pretty. You definitely did at least one summersault on your crash down, the box of papers you held flying everywhere. What would have made it worse was if you had crashed into Baji on your way down, but luckily for both of you, he had walked at a much quicker pace, and had already reached the bottom of the staircase before your topple.
It was dead silent. Luckily, there weren’t too many students around, but there were enough. The boys looked back to one another, contemplating if they could just run off before you realized who they were, stay and help, or even apologize. You were the weirdo of their class after all, it’s not like these kinds of things didn’t just… happen.
“The hells your guys’ problem, huh?!” Baji yelled. It was really loud, louder than you’d ever heard him before. “Got a death wish or somethin’? Help pick this shit up, now!”
Hell with his reputation, this shit pissed him off way more than his tempter would allow him to suppress.
“R-right!” The boys who’d bumped into you nodded and scrambled to pick up all the scattered papers. “And apologize!” Baji yelled a second time, furious that they hadn’t even considered to do that first.
“We’re really sorry!! We weren’t looking, it was an accident!! We’re sorry!” They groveled low to the ground as they cleaned up the mess of their own making.
Baji huffed, but seeing as they were doing exactly as he told, he let it be for now. He sat his own boxes down gently, squatting over to help you up. “Hey, you okay?” He asked.
“No—“ you snapped in a sarcastic tone, but it was only out of bubbling up frustration and humiliation. Clearing out your throat, before he would reply, you started to pick up the papers scattered at your bruised knees. “Yeah, sorry. I’m okay; just didn’t expect it.. sorry I dropped the box. Sorry.” You repeated quietly, head hung low.
You only ever made trouble. If you’d just moved out of the way faster, you wouldn’t have messed up so harshly. Even if they were clearly in the wrong, if you’d just caught your footing instead of tripping, none of this would have happened.
“Come on, these bastards can take the rest from here.” Baji glared while his glasses slipped past his nose, leaving each boy trembling in fear. “W-we’ve got it from here..” One nodded in defeat.
Baji grabbed your shoulders, you rushed you to your feet. “Don’t worry about this, ‘going to the nurse.” He had an aura of order around him while helping you down the remaining stairs. “It’s okay, you don’t have to walk me..” you mumbled, not even sure it was worth going to the nurse for anyway. All you did was fall.
“You’ve got a few knots, and a lot of bruising. You should really be put on ice.” Baji looked you over as the two of you walked. “It had to of hurt. Seriously, those guys should have been looking where they were going. Don’t worry about it though, I’ll make sure they properly apologize again later.”
You chuckled humorlessly, and waved him off, eyes still glued downcast. “It’s not that big of a deal. It was an accident.”
“Accident or not, they’re gonna pay.” He muttered. “Sorry to trouble you, you’d probably have been better off if I just took the boxes all myself.”
“No worries, I wanted to help.”
Once you reached the nurse, Baji stopped you before going in. “You’re L/n, right?”
“Y-yeah, Y/n L/n… I sit in the front, a few rows to the right of where you sit.”
“Right. Sorry bout that again, I’ll let the teacher know you’ll be back a little later than lunch, so don’t sweat hurrying back. Just take your time.”
When was the first the anyone was this considerate of your wellbeing? Sure, it was a common courtesy, but it was still out of the norm. He gave a final look over of you, he seemed to narrow his brows further. “Well … I’m off. Seriously, take it easy.” He waved, and stepped back, waiting for you to enter.
“Right… thank you, Baji.” You have a slight bow before escaping into the nurses office.
⋆。 ゚ 。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆
You were so tired. Maybe it would be best to let it go. Just accept you weren’t able to make friends. Finally accept something was actually wrong with you, and just stop trying.
Murmurs about your little fall were the talk of the class after lunch. Apparently the guys who bumped into you were actually pretty popular. Spreading misinformation about what happened, and making you out to be the bad guy. Seriously, what did you ever do to them? It wasn’t fair.
Overwhelmed, the end of the day came, and it was becoming impossible to tune out all 20 different conversations happening simultaneously as students filed out of the classroom. You bit your tongue and waited. The room would become empty before too long.
One by one, everyone left. And you were finally left alone. Finally. The weight of the day finally began to settle in the newfound quietness.
You quietly laid your head down on your desk, and held your arm sleeves tightly. Just breath. Why is it no matter what, you always make things worse? It was so suffocating, you didn’t even realize how harsh your breathing had become. Tears burned your eyes, and suddenly you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Openly sobbing into your sleeves, you huddled in upon yourself closer.
This sucked! What the hell! You didn’t do anything wrong! So why…
It didn’t do any good to think about it further than that. All thinking did was make it worse. Stop thinking. Just pretend like it didn’t happen. Pretend like you don’t hear anyone when they talk behind your back anymore. Pretend like your knees don’t hurt, like your feelings weren’t crushed. No one cared anyway. Suck it up.
Do better. Be better. Stop crying. Stop—
“Hey…” you heard a soft voice call out beside you. Your breath hitched. Was the classroom not empty? Did you seriously start crying in front of someone like that? This had to be the worst day.
You felt something cold touch your shoulder, and what you can only assume to be a juice box plopped down on your desk.
You didn’t lift your head. Soon to follow, the slight screech in a chair pulled out beside you, and the shifting of clothes. “Leave me alone…” you said softly; hoarsely.
“I thought about it… but it kinda seems like you could use a friend.” Wait, you recognized that voice. Ever so slightly, you turned your head to the side, and peeked past your hair to see Baji sitting slouched and wide legged beside you.
Still, you couldn’t let him see you like this. Rubbing your eyes against the material of your sleeve, you mumbled again. “It’s okay. You really don’t have to do all that.”
He was quiet. You were hopeful that he wouldn’t push the pity treatment further. The juice box was enough. It was thoughtful, and sweet. He was trying. But it was unnecessary. You’d forget about today soon enough.
Baji wasn’t sure what he should do. Maybe he should just leave you alone. He wasn’t really that good at comforting people, and you really didn’t seem in the mood to talk.
He’d never talked to you before today anyway.
Yet he couldn’t find it in himself to do it.
Anytime your name was brought to mention, it was always some bullshit gossip he never cared to listen to. You kept a low profile and seemed to always have a cheery aura about you. Those rumors were just that, rumors. It kind of reminded himself of when people would mumble about him behind his back when he first got held back. Sure, everything that everyone said about him was true, about being a delinquent, or being dumb. But it didn’t seem that way with you.
“People are assholes and just say shit to make you feel bad about yourself. I’m friends with a bunch of weirdos— some real freaks, so I can confidently say you aren’t as weird as people make you out to be.”
Well, it was a nice thought, if anything else. You giggled, sniffling a last few times before turning away from Baji, and wiping your face clean. You faced forward, a guilty smile decorating your features.
Baji Keisuke wasn’t ever really one to notice a person’s appearance, not for girls anyway. Yet he couldn’t help but admire you. Maybe it was the puffiness of your eyes and lashes, all clumped up together in wet mattes. Or maybe it was the gentle smile of giving up that twisted his heart into feeling like he should help you. To get closer to you.
“H-here.” Baji stuttered, and held out his glasses to you. “I don’t actually need them, they’re just for show. You were trying to hide you were crying, right?”
You blinked suspiciously at him, who was a little red faced and shifting of his own gaze. Was he trying to be considerate? Either way, it made you laugh. “Why do you wear them if you don’t need them?” You took the bait, and reached out for the plastic glasses.
“Well, I’ve been told I can look, intimidating, kinda. Like I’m always glarin’ or something. S-so, I guess that’s why?” He couldn’t exactly tell you he didn’t want to be recognized for being Tokyo Manji Gang’s first division captain.
“That so?” You played along, putting the glasses on in playful banter. “Huh, you’re right. They’re fake.” You smiled, and looked back over at Baji. Immediately, Baji broke out into a fit of laughter.
“Bwaaahaha! What the hell! You look so dorky!” He toppled onto himself, holding his side. You immediately followed his fit of laughter, kicking the chair below him. “I look dorky? Speak for yourself poindexter! You’re the one who looks goofy on the daily!”
Normally, those comments would cause Baji to roll his eyes, but with how lighthearted the air was, it only managed to make him laugh harder.
It felt good, laughing so hard with someone. A stranger even. “Alright, come on’, I’ll treat you to some ramen. You had to skip out on eating lunch since I asked you to help me right? You gatta be starving.” Baji offered, hoisting himself up and out of his chair, pushing it in.
“Well…” you thought about it. You’d hate to put him out and cause anymore unnecessary trouble. Yet, for once, you felt like you understood the social cues going on around you. Being able to relax, smile and laugh with someone, and they offer to take you out for food? Would it really be a bad thing to accept?
“Sure…”
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diejager · 7 months
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If you might be taking requests at all, I was wondering if you'd be up for the idea of a fic with sleazy König or Ghost in an arranged marriage to the reader. Reader isn't quite happy with the marriage, but they are. It could be dark or cute, but I'd love to read a fic about an arranged marriage where reader is completely against it meanwhile their new husband is not. They've been hoping to marry reader for a while and now that they have, reader is all theirs in more ways than one. Scares off any men reader tries to date on the side and is hell bent on showing their lovely spouse that this marriage is perfect and that they truly do belong together.
Sleazy husband!König Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, sleazy!König, arranged marriage, age difference/gap, scent kink, crusty balls, hairy König, tell me if I missed any.
König was a family friend, someone you’d seen a few times in your life, but had heard of many, many times that he was a commodity in your life, a subject you became familiar with without actually knowing the man. You’d caught glimpses of the giant when you accompanied your father to the military base for a quick visit, how he towered over you as a child and even more so now that you were an adult in your early 20s. You thought him an acquaintance, a trusted friend of your father, but you’d never thought of him in any other light. You saw him as someone dedicated to his duty, prideful and hungry for power and money, unbeatable and strong with his broad shoulders and gigantic stature. You wouldn’t have anything to do with him in your life, seeing how he barely glanced your way when you crossed path, he dutifully ignored you every time as if you were a plague.
And yet, you found yourself married to him; an arranged marriage. The colonel who avoided you and never seemed to like you had a private marriage with only your immediate family and a few men and women from the Company assisting to watch him embrace and take you home. A home you had no recollection of and were a stranger to. It wasn’t his flat, or the studio apartment you went to with your father. This big house was new and old, a newly bought house in with fresh paint and untouched furniture, in an old Austrian land with a beautiful and lush forest surrounding it. You didn’t even know the man, but you were married to him so quickly - in a month’s worth - that you were still too shell shocked to do anything about it. 
How could your mother and father agree to it so easily? To marry you off to someone you didn’t know. Then you remembered how close your father and he was, life companions that had fought battles together, bled for one another and would die to save the other. That was the reason you were promised without your consent or knowledge until it was too late. 
“Mein Herzchen,” he rasps, peering down at you, cold blues glowing under the darkness of his hood, “Come.”
König - your husband - was a man of few words, but wouldn’t stop talking if he found the right topic to touch, speaking your ears off about it. There were a lot you didn’t know about him, a mystery you didn’t dare try figuring out, but were forced to. You learned he was a dirty and immoral man, to have you marry him despite him being almost twice your age. He could’ve been your uncle, a man who’s age was near your fathers. You learned that he liked jerking himself to the sight of your open pantie drawers, an unwashed and stolen lace pressed into his face, the soft gusset pressed into his mouth and nose as he huffed and growled. You were repulsed by it, finally understanding why some of your underwearswere slightly crusty. 
You learned that he never shaved after your first night, consummating your marriage in the bed you later slept on. You were shocked to find that his chest and arms were as hairy as the tuff around his cock, wild and unruly, a messy bush crawling up his abdomen and spiraling around his chest and covering his paler tint in auburn brown. You learned that he never showered after a sweaty and stinky work out, his musk stinking up the house wherever he went and that he loved pressing you against his naked and sticky chest, smothering you in his thick smell that nearly had you gagging and choking. You couldn’t find the words to describe a man like König, as big and burly as he was hairy and smelly, he was unmoving in his resolve and liked to touch you whenever he wanted to, whether you liked it or not, his word was law.
Your husband was a sleazy man and you couldn’t do anything about it, the golden bound diamond ring on your finger was more so a chain than a wonderful promise.
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry
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meowzfordayz · 8 months
Text
this morning
Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader
Word Count: ~700
CW: explicit language, mild sexual content
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You hate being woken up early, sitting up in alarm thinking it’s past noon, then checking your phone and realizing it’s only 8am. Usually, the blinds are closed. But this morning is different. This morning is steeped in pale rose and lavender, hints of peach clinging to the underside of clouds as the sun slowly rises, light shining softly into the bedroom. Winter mornings may be colder, but they’re also more tender — a gentle, drowsy caress of circadian rhythm, so unlike the bright and eager mornings of summer or spring.
“Sanemi?” you rasp, eyes still closed as you rouse your limbs, body gradually registering the lack of heat beside you.
You aren’t concerned. It’s Monday anyway, and while you work later in the day, your husband does not.
Groggy, you force yourself to sit upright, back supported by a plethora of pillows as your gaze drifts to the bedside table. He usually leaves a note, or a silly doodle (he’s the greatest artist you’ll ever know), or sometimes just a glass of water. Nothing today. You shrug off the odd sensation of his absence, stretching with a mangled yawn as you resist the urge to pick up your phone. Maybe he texted? But you aren’t panicked. Nope. You’re sleepy and calm. Everything is fine. Perhaps he shaved this morning and left in a hurry, or got distracted cleaning the kitchen after cooking himself breakfast. Sometimes he forgets you remind yourself It’s not like he has to say goodbye.
You do vaguely recall him murmuring Good morning to your mostly unconscious figure, a careful kiss pressed to your forehead as the sheets were tucked neatly under your chin. Shh he’d whispered, tapping your cheek with an adoring look You don’t need to get up yet. So you hadn’t. You’d snuggled deeper into the mattress, a slurred Morning-love-you barely audible as he’d left the room, the door not quite closed behind him.
“You’re awake.”
You shriek.
“Well fuck,” Sanemi snorts, gleaming with amusement, doorway framing his shower tousled hair and plain white shirt, grey sweatpants slung lazy around his hips, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You’re at work!” you exclaim accusingly, heartbeat spiking at his presence.
He grins easily, making his way toward the edge of the bed.
“It’s Monday!” your arms would be flapping if you weren’t so confused, “Are you sick? Why aren’t you resting?!”
“You forgot,” he remarks wryly, reaching a familiar palm to your knee, squeezing you through the blankets.
“No,” you snap, “You forgot!”
Brow furrowing, he hesitates, “What exactly did I forget?”
And then your face warms, suddenly petulant as you grab for his hand, bringing his knuckles to your mouth. You blow gently, nuzzling your lips against the faint moisture before pouting.
“Tosaygoodbye.”
Unfortunately, he is your husband, and he understands your mumble-speech like no other.
“Seriously?” he’s grinning again, like he knows a secret that you aren’t yet privy to.
“Yes,” you huff, shooting him a glare, “Not to be clingy, but to be totally clingy, I really appreciate when you write me little notes and stuff.”
“You’re so dumb,” he sighs, ignoring your indignant squawk as he continues to say, “It’s literally your birthday you idiot. I took today off.”
Oh. Oh! Oh!!
Your shock evident by your silence, Sanemi leans over to peck your cheek, winking as he dips lower to nip at your jaw.
“Reservations for breakfast are in two hours. You can stay here or join me on the couch until then.”
“And what about my job?” you finally blurt, “I didn’t request time off.”
He shrugs, “That’s fine,” brimming with smugness as he drawls, “What I dropped off should be enough to convince your boss to let you go home early. And dinner’s on me,” grazing your earlobe with his teeth as he smiles, “Dessert too. Definitely dessert.”
Despite his thinly veiled warning, you are not prepared for the mass of flowers awaiting you at your job, a handwritten card accompanying the arrangement as you search frantically for your phone, already determined to call Sanemi and sob demand to know when he became so romantic (happily, of course).
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luffysscraps · 11 months
Text
NSFW ALPHABET;🔞FT; RORONOA ZORO
Cw: Fem reader; NSFW;🔞
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex); He’s a bit silent. Light pants is all you’ll hear for a while. He’ll cross his arms behind his head and sit up in bed with your figure across his bare chest. He’ll ask if you’re alright, or If you need anything. If you really want to clean up, he’ll help you but other then that aftercare is a drone of silence and then nap time.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s); BOOBS!! Do I even have to say it? We all knew. Zoro loves BOOBS! From tiny ones he can grip with one hand and tug on those sensitive nipples, to big honkers he can shove and suck on in his mouth. If it’s on your chest, they’re boobs and he’s latching on.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically); Zoro cums gallons. He’ll fill the condom to the brim. He’ll also fill you to the brim if you let him. Please let him, he loves to watch his cum flow out of you. One time as he was admiring your pussy cream pie he just closed his eyes and nodded. “I did that.” He whispered under his breath.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs); He LOVES to watch your tits bounce when you work out. He’ll invite you to work out with him on a whim so you don’t have time to put on a sports bra and just watch as your boobs bounce with every movement. He just smirks slyly licking his lips, not saying a word about it.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?); Zoro’s not a virgin when you two meet but he also didn’t get around much. He’s only been with about three others before you. That being said, Zoro’s on top of his game most of the time. He’s fast and rough in the first half and then slows down to soothe your soreness and aches.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying); Doggy style. Presses into you so hard you can feel his chest on top of you. He reaches underneath you, grabbing at your breast and just goes to pound town thrusting in and out of your pussy from the back. From this angle he can go all the way in with less force and effort which means more stamina. He also likes to grip you by the hair and bounce you up and down on his cock from this position.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.); He is unintentionally goofy. He’ll be fucking you like no tomorrow and then just pause out of nowhere. “Why is the sky blue…” He whispers under his breath. “THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE THINKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW?!?” “Oh- sorry Y/N, forgot where I was for a second.” And then goes right back to jack hammering you without a second thought.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.); He’s not cut at all. It literally looks like a forest down there with his green locks. He’ll trim if you REALLY beg him, but other then that he sees no point in it. If you’re someone who likes shaved or trimmed don’t worry his hair doesn’t grow that long either way.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect); He’s silent most of the time in bed, only giving out groans or pants. But there are soft moments where he’ll grip your hips, lean over, kiss you, and whisper an “I love you.” He’s so embarrassed to say it out loud though so before you can take it all in or say it back he ramps up the speed to stop you from seeing his blush or responding.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon); He loves to jack off. Most of the time he does it at night in the crow’s nest. When no one’s around, or he can’t sleep he’ll just whip out his cock and start fisting it. He stole one of your panties just for this, he holds it up to his nose while he jerks himself off. He’s been caught multiple times by you and he has no shame in it. He’s still jerking it while you stare at him and he’s just like “What? You wanna take over~?” . Once he was jerking off in the crow’s nest and didn’t realize the mic was on, so EVERYONE heard his groans and moans “Ambatukam! Ambedeblou~ Ambusing!” No one’s ever let him live this down.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks); Zoro loves size difference. No matter what size you are I guarantee- this man is bigger then you. With how tall he is and how he’s built like a truck, he’s bound to be bigger then you. And that turns him on so much. He can just grasp your body, and put you on his cock like a toy, moving your body up and down on him with only one hand. It just gets him soo hard to compare sizes. You’re so tiny and cute.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do); His bedroom. It’s cozy and secluded, what more can he ask for? Zoro’s not one to like voyeurism because well… he gets mad? “What the hell do you think you’re doing?! You can’t look at my girl!” He yelled at Sanji when he accidentally walked in on you two. He almost stopped fucking you just to kill him.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going); A good workout always gets him turned on, especially if you join him. Watching the sweat run down your body, the way your boobs bounce with every jumping jack. Oh he’s sprung in seconds. In the middle of your workout he’ll just walk up behind you putting his boner in between your cheeks and groping your breasts from behind. “I’ve got something else you can try~”
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs); Zoro will not. Under any circumstance. Even if it was to save his life. Put anything in his ass. He’s too prideful and he’s always the top no matter what’s the situation. I’m sorry Zoro peggers but this man would rather die then have anything put up there. “ZORO QUICK! WE HAVE TO SHOVE THIS PILL IN YOUR ASS OR ELSE YOU’LL EXPLODE AND DIE.” “Guess my journey ends here. Goodbye everyone.”
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.); He prefers receiving but that doesn’t mean he won’t go down on you. He loves to trail his tongue up and down your thigh before eating you out like an animal. His tongue works his magic and his meaty hands have your thighs locked down so you can’t wiggle and squirm away from him. He will eat you out until your raw.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.); He’s usually fast and rough if he’s awake. If he’s sleepy or just plain asleep he’ll be slow and rather gentle, but be ready when he wakes up because he’s going to poundddd town.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.); He doesn’t like quickies but he doesn’t hate them either. He likes to wind down at the end of the day and use up the rest of his energy by fucking the daylights out of you. He usually never gets horny in the day, at night after a drink or two a long sex session with you is the perfect send off before he goes to sleep. He’ll do quickies if you need them, but he prefers the long sessions.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.); Zoro will usually take risks but only if you want to as well. If you’re not into something or he can tell you don’t like it he won’t do it. The riskiest thing he’s done is fuck you up in the crow’s nest. He made sure the mic was off this time though.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?); He can go up to about ten rounds before he passes out. But that’s only if you turn into an incubus one night. Most of the time he’s a one or two round guy before he wants to go to bed. He doesn’t seek out the need to cum back to back. He can go up to ten if you want to but after cumming twice he’s usually limp and ready to go to bed after that.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?); He’s not really interested in toys. His cock is more then big enough and your pussy’s amazing, why would he need a silicone pussy or a vibrator to please you? If you bring it up he takes it as a challenge “Oh yeah? You think plastic’s better then me?!” And then he’ll rip you a new one, he’ll fuck all your holes raw.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease); This man could care less of your whines and moans. He’ll tease you however he likes. He’ll make you beg for more only to fuck you slowly for hours and then when you’re begging him to slow down he’ll speed up with a simple. “You don’t get to tell me what to do~”
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.); When he’s with you, he’s almost silent, only letting out a few grunts and light moans. But when he’s jacking off he’s loud and moaning nothing but your name. You think he’s holding in his sounds when he fucks you because he wants to seem ‘cool’. You find it super cute.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character); Zoro silently wants you to dominate him. Of course he never wants anything going into his ass but if you take control one night, surprise him and get the jump on him. Tie his hands around his back and ride him at your own pace. That would turn him on more then he’d like to admit. He’d never say it or ask for it aloud but he’d find it SO hot if you took control of him. Just for one night.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes); Good god. 6’8 inches soft. A dark tan color with a pretty pink mushroom tip. Large dark cream balls and a fuzzy patch of green hair at the base of his dick. He’s packing and he knows it.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?); His sex drive is surprisingly moderate. Only needing to cum like once every three days. He doesn’t crave sex like some rubbery captain he knows but he also can’t live without it. If you’re sexually active then you’ll be fine with him, he knows when it’s time to take it easy and when it’s time to fuck.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards); “zzz..” this man is asleep the nanosecond his balls are empty. Did you think it would happen any other way? Sleep is important to him! Of course you are too but- sleep is a little bit more important to him right now. Listen he’ll make it up to you by getting you flowers or something later. But for now he’s passed out and not getting back up.
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