#every dark side sheet has their tongue sticking out

[quarantinevibes2020]

Did ya re-Miss me 🐸

Part five of my sanders sides character sheets!

Click for Virgil, Roman, Janus, and Logan

[bokunoheros]

TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab, reader and katsuki are in their 3rd year, everyone is 18+, hand kink, this is actually rlly vanilla compared to everything else i’ve written GENRE: smut SUMMARY: you’re obsessed with your boyfriend’s strong hands and want his fingers in your mouth. WORD COUNT: 854 🦊’s A/N: sorry for how fucked up day 14 was LMAOOO also i’m sorry this is so short?? i’ll make up for it somehow

     for weeks now, you’d been asking your boyfriend to put his fingers in your mouth, or to let you suck on his fingers to soothe your oral fixation, just for him to shut you down each and every time. 

     and every time, you whined why?

     yet, without fail, he gave you the same response; because i don’t want you accidentally ingesting my sweat, idiot. it was out of care for your well being that he didn’t cave to a request-turned-demand that he wishes he could indulge you in desperately. but, whether he expressed it or not, katsuki was a caring person. …in his own aggressive manner, but anyone who knows him can tell when he cares for someone, as he becomes just the slightest bit softer around them, only has his guard half-way up instead of being on full defense mode all the time. and in regards to you? he more than just cared for you, he was stupidly, disgustingly in love with you. so much so, it made him physically ill. 

     that’s how he finds himself awake at midnight three weeks after your initial ask, locked away in his dorm room, the only thing illuminating the darkness being his laptop screen from underneath his sheets. he had gone down a rabbit hole on reddit about nitroglycerin and whether or not it was dangerous if consumed, how it tasted (as he had never… i dunno, licked his fuckin’ palms before like a little freak), what a lethal dosage was, etc.

     now, he feels a bit more prepared to yield to your demands next time you plead with him. as long as you don’t suck on them for an extended period, you should be fine—nitroglycerin was often used to help with chest pain in small doses, after all.

     so, the next time the two of you are getting hot and heavy in his dorm late at night, he finds himself pinning you to the bed, straddling your hips, erection pressing into your thinly clothed cunt—as you were both in nothing but your underwear—his chest pressing against yours, he finds his mind wandering to how he should go about this. 

     does he wait for you to bring it up again? or does he surprise you by taking the initiative..? tsk, like it’s even a question.

     pulling away from the sloppy kiss, he takes the opportunity to stick two of his fingers in your mouth when you go to ask him what he was doing—something that makes your eyes widen in shock for a brief moment before you’re grabbing at his thick wrist with both hands as you begin to suck his middle and ring fingers.

     katsuki bites his plump bottom lip as you swirl your tongue around and between the digits occupying your wet mouth before he suddenly has the muscle pinned down as he slides his fingers towards the back of your throat. 

      you can’t help but smile, and maybe moan a little, as he starts to essentially fingerfuck your mouth, nearly massaging your slick tongue but being just a bit too rough for it to be considered such. you were just content to finally get what you’d been begging for for weeks. 

     “mmmgh,” you moan softly, a noise that makes the blond smirk. 

     “enjoyin’ yourself?” he asks, more rhetorically than anything, but you answer him nonetheless.

     “mmhm,” you hum in response, closing your eyes as you focus on the taste of his fingers. they were… almost sweet? in a sense, but also left a light burning and tingling sensation behind in their wake—probably just the effects of the nitroglycerin, you think. nothing you hadn’t already thought of or considered. 

     spreading the thick digits, he splays them out to either side of your tongue, allowing you to move the muscle freely again 

     “kats…” you whine, rolling your hips up as you start to grow impatient, the feeling of his fingers in your mouth driving you crazy. nothing could have prepared you for how nice it felt. maybe it’s because it was like a forbidden treat for what seemed like the longest time, and now you were finally getting to indulge in it, and if not for the throbbing of your clit bringing you back to the real world, you think you could be content sucking on his thick and calloused digits for as long as he let you. 

     “mm–ow! you little shit!” he hisses when you suddenly bite down against his fingers, and he all but jerks them out of your mouth. “what was that for?”

     you can’t help but giggle and smirk at his confused expression.

     “felt like it,” you grin, looking up at him with nothing but mischief in your eyes.

     “fine, see if i ever let you suck on my fingers again,” he huffs, crossing his well-toned arms as he rolls his eyes.

     “wait, no–! ‘m sorry, baby; i was just fuckin’ with you, i won’t do it again, i promise,” you beg, propping yourself up on your forearms.

      fortunately, this time, it only took a few minutes of begging instead of a few weeks to get him to relent to your desperate pleas.

return to KINKTOBER | K. BAKUGOU M.LIST

[luvf4ngz]

MAKE A MESS! - where my faves like to cum <3

ft. jason todd, illumi zoldyck, choso kamo

Contents: Breeding, Mentions Of Starting A Family, Oral (Male Receiving), Reader Wears Makeup, Mentions of Cervix Fucking. Handjobs, Cum Eating, Dacryphilia, Overstimulation, Slight Possessiveness

Word Count: 1164

It’s him you’re tasting so reverently.

JASON TODD

Jason doesn’t understand why you always do that, but he can’t say that he’s complaining. The sight of you savoring his cum, staring up at him with doe eyes blown dark with lust - face flushed, moaning as you allow it to sit on your tongue never fails to bring a heated flush to his face. And when you swallow it down greedily, sticking your pink tongue out at him to show your now empty mouth?

It makes him hard again every. single. time. 

Whenever you give him a handjob - when your smaller hands work up and down his fat cock, stroking over every vein and sensitive spot - it doesn’t take long before he’s finishing. His load is thick as it flows from the tip of his cock, dribbling down his shaft and coating your hands. It always ends the same. First you gently lap up his seed, looking up at him with those soft, needy eyes as you clean him up, before you raise your dirtied fingers to your mouth, sucking off his cum from your digits with a satisfied hum. 

It makes his cock spring back to life, harder and redder than before. 

And now he’s inside your slick walls, pummeling into you at a hard and rough pace. He just can’t control himself. No matter how much he wants to be gentle with you, your addictive moans and warm walls just make him lose all control. Low groans spill from his mouth as his hands grip the soft flesh of your hips tighter. 

His cock is so big that it nudges at your cervix every time he bottoms out, and it’s so girthy that he stretches you out like no other. You’re left cockdrunk beneath him, able to do nothing but let out wanton whines and dig your nails into his back. Each drag of his walls ignites the fire in your stomach, each hit against your sweet spot has you seeing stars, the pressure in your lower stomach increasing more and more.

He pulls out when he feels he’s close to finishing, large hand pumping at his glossy cock as he aims at your stomach. It’s a warm, sticky mess that splatters against your skin, and again, you do it. You reach your hand down, scooping his seed onto your fingers before bringing them to your mouth.

Your tongue sticks out to collect the salty liquid, running up your digits sensually, before you push the two fingers into your mouth and suck. 

Fuck. 

He’s hard again.

Does it taste good? Do you genuinely like it? Or do you just do this to tease him?

He doesn’t know, and at this point he never will. All he knows is that he needs to feel you wrapped around his cock again. 

ILLUMI ZOLDYCK

This man is obsessed with breeding you. Everytime he fucks you, there’s sure to be a messy white ring at the base of his cock that drips down his balls to dirty the sheets. You’re not sure how he has this much stamina, but you can’t say you’re surprised - considering his training and occupation. 

You feel so fucking full. You’ve lost count of how many loads are inside you, heating up your insides and acting as lube for Illumi to keep fucking you harder and faster. 

The slick sounds echoing the walls are almost too much, making the tips of your ears feel hot from embarrassment. Each thrust from Illumi makes sickening squelching sounds and achingly loud wet slaps. 

You’re going crazy, drooling and moaning against the pillow as Ilumi continues to have his way with you and abuse your aching cunt. There’s so much cum inside you that it’s leaking out, flowing out the sides of Illumi’s pale cock to smear against your thighs. 

“I’m going to fill you up so well, my dear. I’ll start a family with you. We’ll make such strong children. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He murmurs lowly, voice dripping with dominance and lust, fingers digging further into your hips. 

It’s overflowing at this point. Illumi’s cock is covered more and more with a white sheen every time he pulls back.

You’re so sore, it makes you want to cry. The overstimulation makes your body tremble against the bed, filling your brain with static and your veins with lava. 

You feel wet. Messy. Dirty. But still you can’t help but want more.

Illumi’s hips stutter a bit, and you feel him twitch inside you. He groans as another flood of hot cum fills your womb, making you moan out. 

S’too much. S’too hot. You’re too full.

Your thoughts are slurred, head shrouded in heat.

Illumi stills for a bit, chest rising and falling heavily, until… he starts moving once more - hips drawing back to slam against yours again and again and again, until you’re sobbing and gasping and shaking.

He won’t stop until he really knocks you up this time. 

CHOSO KAMO

It’s Choso’s guilty pleasure to see his cum painting your face. He wonders what all the other sorcerers would say about you if they found out you had such lewd preferences. 

There’s just something about seeing your pretty face ruined by him that makes him go crazy. Your mascara always runs down your cheeks when you go down on him. It’s not that he’s ever particularly rough with you, but the length of his cock alone is enough to make you choke and gag, your lipstick always smears against your cheeks and stains his pretty cock with whatever color you decided to sport that day. 

The slurred moans you let out against his cock turns into soft vibrating rumbles, urging him to tangle his fingers into your hair. He tries not to, but he always ends up taking control. He uses his grip on you to urge you up and down to his liking. Each time you hollow your cheeks or move your tongue against his length makes him lose his mind.

When he’s close - when his stomach tightens up and his thighs clench; when the coil inside him unravels along with his mind - he pulls you off of him to blow his load on your face.

You somehow still look innocent, even with his seed dripping from you. You stare up at him with those pretty eyes of yours that he adores. 

There’s something so intimate about this - about your precious face being tainted and ruined by him. It almost evens stirs a hint of possessiveness in him. He relishes in the fact that no one is able to do this to you but him. No one can see how your tongue darts out the lap at the cum dribbling near your lips, no one can see how the white sheen mixes with the colours of your cosmetics, no one can see how you drag your fingers across your face to push his cum into your mouth. It’s him you’re tasting so reverently.

It’s truly a sight to behold. 

Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3

- sumi ☆ミ

ミ☆ masterlist

@toruslvt (ゝω・）

[soobibabe]

kiss me more

pairings: choi soobin + reader (university au) warnings: they fuck. soobins a lil rough. yadayadayada.

It's been 2 weeks since you and your boyfriend moved into your apartment together. His parents decided it was best if he had his own place for college, and frankly, they absolutely adored you.

His mom and dad knew you were a good influence on him even though you're younger. He's in his third year meanwhile you're in your first.

On the first day that you moved in, you two made a truce to stay abstinent until finals end.

However, due to the fact that you're ovulating and your boyfriend is well, Choi Soobin, it was gradually becoming harder to stick to the plan you came up with in the first place.

Soobin is shirtless, pacing around the house reading An Introduction to Modern Astrophysics. You feel like a man in the 1700s seeing a woman's ankle for the first time.

Perhaps it's his concentration face, the way his glasses sat on his nose, or the way his sweats hung just low enough to show off his Calvins.

You craved him, but there was no way you were gonna interrupt him while he was that focused.

Taking matters into your own hands, you make your way into your shared room and head straight to the bed.

You sit up straight against the bed frame and sink your hands into your pants gently caressing the supple skin just above your core. The touch felt good, but you can already tell this won't be enough to satisfy you.

You slip your fingers under the hem of your underwear and run your index down your slit, collecting the slick that had gathered from fantasizing about your boyfriend. The feeling causes you to twitch, imagining it's Soobin's hand instead of yours.

You rub your clit in, desperate for any stimulation you could find. Sliding a finger inside was easy given how soaked you were.

These motions continued for a while, bringing you closer to your edge, eyes sealed shut trying your best to suppress your whines.

Your movements suddenly come to a halt. A larger hand wraps around your wrist and pulls your hand out from under the sheet before you can register what's happening.

The loss of friction causes you to groan. When you look up, you meet the dark eyes of the source of your dilemma, glaring straight at your fucked out face.

"Soobi-" He shuts you down with a rough kiss.

The hand he has a hold of replaces his lips as he shoves the fingers that were previously inside of you, into your mouth. "taste good?"

"My turn" The sheets are thrown off onto the other corner of the bed and Soobin tugs your pants off all in one swift motion.

"Did I give you permission to touch yourself while I'm around baby?" his voice is soft, but there's a devilish look on his face. You can sense the venom in his words.

You shake your head in response.

"Coming up with a stupid rule about not fucking you so that we could focus, yet you're here touching yourself while I comply?" he lets out a low chuckle. "Been studying to keep myself from ruining you every day since we moved, yet here you are"

"I just wanted to-" he pulls your panties to the side and thrusts two fingers into you, repeating the gesture. Instead of finishing your sentence, you moan out, already overwhelmed by pleasure.

"feels so good, Soobin"

"Look at you, so needy already" he slows his pace "but this won't do"

The hand that palmed his hard-on through his pants, dips into his boxers and takes his cock out. Tip crimson, begging for situation.

"Let me suck you off. I promise I'll make you feel good"

"Aw, my pretty girl's begging to please me" he takes his fingers out of you, using the wetness from your cunt to lubricate his neglected cock.

He uses his free hand to grab a fist full of your hair and guides your head to his tip. "Sure you want this?" he asks, adjusting your bodies so that he's standing at the edge of the bed. "Mhm" that's all he needed to continue. "Stick your tongue out" you obey and he slaps his tip against it. You take it upon yourself to wrap your lips around it drawing figure eights on it with your tongue. "fuck, just like that" You look up at him while sucking it slowly, torturing him. Maybe you forgot who was in control here?

He made sure to remind you, though.

Without warning, he uses his hand in your hair to hold you in place, thrusting his dick further into your mouth.

Tears start rolling down your face, only turning him on more. "Good girl"

He's practically fucking your throat. "Fuck I might cum down your throat if we keep this up. Need to be in you" he inquiries.

You pull off his cock with a 'pop' sound. "Please"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants, yeah?"

Soobin pushes you onto the bad face into the mattress, a pillow under your stomach, manhandling you in the best way possible.

Almost immediately, he slides his dick into you.

"Taking me so well" adding another inch. It hurts, but once the pain turns to pleasure you forget it ever stung.

"Good girl, fitting my cock right in. Made for me, all mine" fuck he's driving you insane. You're never prepared for how thick he is. The 2-week intermission has you feeling like you're a virgin all over again.

Shortly after, he's pounding into you at a lethal pace. You feel so good. He feels so good.

"Clenching me so hard baby, did you miss my dick that bad"

"yes, fuck yes! Soobin!"

"So fucked out already and we only just got started, what will I do with you?"

The knot inside of your stomach burns, anticipating release.

"Please, please, please" "Please what pretty, use your words, I know you can" "Please let me cum" you manage to get out of your system. "Not yet, y/n"

Oh but the way his tip attacks your spot feels heavenly. You're about to cum. "Fuck, y/n you're clenching down on me so hard, god"

"Cumming, sorry"

"Fuck you're creaming all over me" he pulls out at the peak of your climax, what a fucking sadist. He switches the position again, this time, you're on top of him. "Ride it, since you can't follow instructions, hm?"

"You look so pretty like this, baby" you grind your hips down, clit hitting his pelvic bone. His hand reaches up and grabs one of your tits, his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. You regain your stamina at the sight of his fucked out features, riding his faster.

"Fuck, y/n, can i cum in you?" you nod your head, yes.

"please do" you moan out.

Soobins hands maneuver to your hips, holding you still to fill you up all the way. "Good girl" he moans.

"Took my cum so well." His eyes glued to where you connect, watching his cum leak out. If it's possible for a man to get a boner while he's already hard, that's what just happened to him.

"Tired" you whimper, body feeling limp. "That's a shame, I'm not done with you just yet"

He flips you over onto your back, still inside you. "Feel me here baby?" he asks, pressing his hand on the bulge his dick imprints on your lower abdomen. "Just a few more rounds. You can take it, yeah?"

A/N: was in heat wrting this i apologise ^^

[st4rbwrry]

LUV THIS SHIT | eren yeager.

‍ ‍ ☆. warnings — 3.1k. fem!reader, eren’s pent up from working out, asmr sexting, submissive reader, impact play [ face smack, spanking ] public arousal, indecent behavior, mating press, f!oral, fingering, profanity, established relationship, lots of making out, unprotected sex, eren’s aggressive, floor sex, riding, creampie, artist!reader, pet names, reader has black features, minors aren't allowed! 

‍ merry christmas! ♡

eren starts his day the same every morning. the alarm goes off at six o'clock which is never your favorite thing to hear considering you're not an early bird. usually groaning in your state of sleep and tugging the blankets away from him after he kisses you on your forehead and steps out of bed. you always snuggle on his side before the warmth he created grows cold. proceeds to take a steaming hot shower, tilting his neck back to let the heavy beats of water dampen his long hair. lathers his body with african black soap you picked up from a shop while SONDER plays from his speaker, careful not to blast it too loud to wake you up. it's your off day so he's respecting your wishes to hibernate all day.

he honestly hates leaving you alone in bed. sue him but being your little spoon is the best thing he's ever known. he's never slept so good in his life until he met you. never knew it felt so comfortable being in another persons arms. eren’s next step is to dress for the gym, the only reason he's up this early three times out of the week. a dark gray towel is wrapped low around his slim waist, tatted chest and arms running with water droplets as he wipes the foggy mirror clear to see his reflection. washing his face with a kale, spinach, and green tea cleanser along with brushing his teeth, cleaning his tongue with a scraper and gargling mouthwash. he forgets to do this backwards sometimes considering he has to eat first. the taste lingers and makes his food nasty.

afterwards, he’s moisturizing his face with cerave healing ointment and his pouty cotton candy lips with one of your babylips sticks. lathering his body in vaseline coca butter lotion and slipping on a olive green colored sweatpants with a black cropped metallica muscle tank, wrapping a matching black bandanna over the top of his towel-dried chestnut hair. he spritz this cologne you picked up at the mall when thinking of him called art deco amberwood by clive christian. makes you fall to your knees to suck him off every time now that he thinks about it.

by then it's near seven and he's down in the kitchen with his black airpod max’s over his ears listening to jazz while he blends his smoothie with spinach, kale, strawberries, blueberries, and pineapples. he gulps that down after filling a mason jar completely. and for further consumption, he makes avocado toast topped with chia seeds, himalayan salt and pepper and two strips of bacon each.

before he leaves he makes sure to run back up the stairs to double check on you to see if you needed anything before he left such as picking up a coffee from dunkin or anything from the art supply store. he peaks his head through the door to see you sprawled out, mouth open and snoring peacefully, cuddling his pillow. he smiles to himself, mumbling ‘my pretty girl’ before quietly tiptoeing close to the king-sized bed with satin sheets to give you a kiss or two before heading out, moving your bonnet aside to whisper that he loves you.

he's got his gym bag and his car keys when he leaves, taking the elevator down the parking lot of the loft you two live in, three years now. he finds his car parked directly next to yours. cute. the pretty wolf gray kia k5 besides his onyx lexus rc 300. there's a gym located in the building but he prefers the one your brother owns a few minutes out of the area.

it's around ten o'clock when you fully wake up, missing his presence already and pouting about it before heading to the shower yourself. sitting in a towel for a full hour stuck on tiktok and getting a craving for samyang carbonara noodles and rice cakes. it's really the only thing that made you leave the house today, throwing on a pair of eren’s gray nike shorts you had to roll up to properly sit on your hips, and a black tank, jewelry remaining on your skin everyday from layered necklaces to multiple bracelets. 

you're sitting in the starbucks drive thru which has an incredibly long line but you're not minding the wait, craving a pink drink suddenly. the sun was hitting nicely into your car so you decide to take photos to pass a little time, thumb slipping and accidentally opening the voice memos app with only four recordings, one of them fairly new. created about two weeks ago and you vaguely remember that night. it's about an hour and fifteen minutes long

'luv this shit <3’ is what it's titled. not remembering exactly how it went. you and eren only used this app whenever you're having sex, meaning those four audios were strictly nsfw. you bite your lip in curiosity, deciding to press play to hear it, flinching when you hear how loud you were screaming on top of forgetting that your phone is connected to your cars bluetooth. you swallow in panic, turning it off and sitting back in silence, twiddling your fingers, becoming impatient with the line now because you wanted to hear it. it had to be something the two of you made when you were intoxicated. or else you would've remembered it.

you've retrieved your pink drink, and now it was time to park, too impatient to wait and hear this. sipping your drink, you get comfortable, holding your phones speaker to your ear and pressing play yet again. there's music playing in the background, luv this shit by august alsina in specific, now you knew where the title came from. probably eren’s doing. a rush of heat swarms your cheeks and gut as you hear your boyfriend’s voice, deep and stern as he talks to you while skin connects and your moans overshadow the music. the sound of you kissing wetly makes you shift in your seat, feeling his soft lips on yours at the moment. you loved kissing him.

it lasts for about two minutes before eren’s voice becomes louder than yours when he's fucking you hard, your voice muffled by your hand you assume, doing that a lot since you think you're too loud. “let me fuckin’ hear it,” there's his voice again, unconsciously whimpering along with yourself in the audio. eren’s whining with you, the two of you gasping and listening to how wet you were. a loud smack erupts and you're crying his name, the memory slowly coming back. he smacked your face. the jewelry on his wrist prominent when he does it again, this time it's the outside of your thigh.

“rennnnnn! fuh-uuck.”

“i hear you, baby. come on, come on, come on, cum, cum, cum.” with every thrust he gets louder, hissing as your pussy constricts around his dick. “that's it, pretty. yeah.”

you nearly spill your drink over your lap, the cup slowly slipping from your grip after you zoned out, catching it quick and collecting yourself, setting it in the cup holder. you need to leave. actually, you need to send this to him. he has to be done at the gym by now. then again, you're never sure with him. the man could work out all day if he wanted.

being risky, you grin, pulling up his contact and sending him the audio, following with a text that said . . .

NEW MESSAGE

kuromi princess hello kitty baby star ♡

don't we sound pretty? <3

follicles of eren's hair stick to his sweaty forehead, putting it up before he started his workout, going on for about three hours now. RICH FLEX blasts in his headphones. the neckline of his top is doused with sweat, removing the boxing gloves off his hands to sit down and gulp a full bottle of water. checking his phone, he sees your message. lifting his brow at the audio you had sent, reading your response, and clicking it without hesitating. immediately when he hears your desperate pleading and skin smacking, his pupils dilate, clenching his jaw and checking his surroundings. not many people were in this area of the gym.

“fuck me, baby. fuck me, baby. fuck me, babyyy,” eren listens with wide eyes as he hears your pretty moans, skipping through the audio to hear bits and pieces.

“yeah, speak to me like that.”

eren grows shamelessly aroused from what he's hearing, swallowing hard and shifting his dick back in place, breathing heavier. he's mad at you. mad because you know he's in public and he gets easily turned on by anything regarding you. whether it be your scent, your smile, your eyes, or your fucking voice. when you talk, or scream his name. it's all the same. he's triggered by it all. and you know this, so why test him? not to mention the two of you haven't been sexually active because you've been caught up with work and painting and he's been working doubles. the only time you spend together is brief mornings in bed or one day weekends, usually sleeping all day or being lazy.

all he can think of this moment is fucking you rough and raw. gathering his belongings without another thought and sending you a brief text.

pretty boy ren <3

yea, okay.

it's so stressful walking with a hard dick, and eren really can't wait until he gets home to fuck you up. such a dirty girl needing to be put in place. he forgets his headphones have noise cancellation, so when he's speeding home like a dummy, music continues to thrum in his ears, acting like a complete madman. exactly five minutes before he enters the apartment, you're sitting in your usual corner of the loft where you've made your art station. sitting on the ground while incense flows and sza’s new album plays soundly. a canvas laying on the ground where you sat on a cushion, finger painting a collage of the weeknd’s discography since it's the 11th anniversary for echoes of silence. unaware of the message you received.

that is until you hear the familiar sound of keys jangling and in a matter of seconds, the front door flies open, there standing a big, tall, visibly irritated man. your eyes go wide from seeing him, eren kicking off his shoes, heavy feet stomping towards you and you sit up with curiosity, trying your hardest to hide your devious smile. you knew it'd have that effect on him. eren’s hot hand grabs your jaw fervently, clenching his before yanking your face close to his to connect your lips in a heated kiss. smacking his lips roughly over yours, moaning into his mouth, his eyes focused on your face as you close your eyes too comfortably for his liking. as if you're not in trouble for the shit you pulled.

your hands kept to yourself on either side of his wide shoulders, eren dragging you down to lay on your back onto the cushion you previously sat on, slipping off the black panties covering your neglected pussy, weeping, and waiting for him to get home to do exactly this. staring up at him with glee in your eyes, it's the opposite in his. he can't hear a thing you say because of his headphones, not bothering to toss them off because the only thing on his mind is sliding his dick inside of you and getting his nut off.

raising your knees without his help, he's pushing them further up to your chest, folding you still before arching his neck to release globs of spit onto your cunt three times max, each one emitting a ‘puh’ sound. you clench from his dirty act. his big body hovers over yours, heavy dick practically drenched in precum resting on your mound before eren angles his hips to slip into you. he doesn't give you time to brace yourself, gasping as he groans and thrusts his hips fast, your skin clapping and body jerking under him. beautiful green irises switching darker as he stares into your soul, your moans faintly being heard.

“think you fuckin slick, baby?” eren rasps, your mouth agape, his grip on your thighs harsh. “did that shit on purpose just so i can fuck that pretty pussy stupid on my cock, right?”

“y-yess,” he watches you nod drunkenly, your hands digging on your sides into the rug beneath you. every pound into your slick pussy vibrates into your throat, following his rhythm. happy tears brim your eyes.

“s’okay. ��cause i got something for you.”

his pace hastens, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he drills deep, jackhammering almost, like a needy, inexperienced boy. your cunts squelching loud, hand pressing at his abdomen in attempt to slow him down but he only fucks you harder, air knocking from your lungs. it's so fucking hot the way he's handling you right now, like he's been so deprived of you for so long he couldn't stand it. couldn't even take his clothes fully off, keeping every piece on because he needed you that badly.

“ooh, i'm fucking cumming. ssss, fuck,” eren moans. you squeal as eren takes both your arms and crosses them over your tummy, holding them there while he puts his weight on you and grunts in your face. sweat dampening his bandanna, breath mixing with yours as he cums inside you. coating your walls with thick spurts of white. your knees buckle from the feeling, his lower halve twitching from the rush.

eren licks his lips, stilling his movements to take a breather, knocking back one of the ears to his airpods to hear how desperate you sound, slowly pulling his dick out, still hard.

“eren, i didn't cum,” you whine, squirming with an attitude.

“i think i knew that.”

you put your middle finger up to him for his smart ass tone, eren arching a brow and scooping you up without another word. smiling, you cling to him as he moves towards the couch, deciding to stay seated on the floor, lifting you so you sit on his lap. his cock resting on his stomach where you're able to see toned abs and a dark, neatly trimmed happy trail to match your cute brazilian strip all cause of that slutty, grunge crop top he has on. his back rests against the furniture. you take the initiative to remove these stupid headphones so you could put your hands and mouth around his neck.

“i don’t think you understand how much i thought about fuckin’ you today. you really fuckin’ don’t.” eren lands a heavy hand on your ass causing you to jump and scoot forward from leaning back on his knees. “could barely fucking focus. all because you sent me that shit.”

“and because you miss me,” you whisper, delicately skimming your lips over his, arching into him as he spreads your ass cheeks apart after smoothing over them. spanking you hard on either side until you gasp into his mouth and he could kiss you again.

“sink on it real slow,” eren taps your clit with the tip to say he wants it done now. sucking on your lip, you raise yourself till he's kissing the entrance and gently easing down, indenting crescent moons into his broad shoulders momentarily. dragging your hands to your waist, you rub over your body, hissing and throwing your head back, feeling a storm of euphoria fuel you. eren hums in fascination as you lose yourself in the bond.

“g’na say sorry with your pussy, baby?” eren taunts in a baby-like tone.

“mhmm,” what eren wants, eren gets. and if he wanted you to ride his dick you were going to. getting up on the tips of your toes and rode only on the tip first, eren choking on his spit with brows furrowed and praising you. soon, inching lower to bounce yourself up and down to his liking, being sure to clench your walls a little tighter just to hear him whine. when eren gets really feral he gets really loud. unable to control what his vocal cords let out. he used to think it was embarrassing, but the two of you have shared enough time together to dismiss judgment. he sounds so pretty when he's getting fucked good.

“shit, you keep fuckin’ me like that m’ not gonna last,” ignoring him, you continue to clap your ass down, skin interaction picking back up, eren’s hands on your hips just for leverage. he never needs to guide you. a few squeezes occasionally since he's so sensitive. painfully aroused it makes no sense.

“i can't last long,” you warn, pawing at his chest as you raise your ass and fuck him faster, eren moaning and helping you out by pounding up into you. you fall forward into his arms, yanking you down each time you'd rise back up. smacking your ass just to hear your voice pick up. “eren, fuck baby!”

“unh huh, keep goin’,” eren’s face scrunches up, whining in your ear while keeping one of his tatted arms wrapped around your backside. your thighs begin to burn but you know stopping isn't an option when he sounds that good in your ear. eren gets aggressive and hits into you harder, same time ass you drop down with more force, tugging at his hair and he whimpers your name.  “keep that shit up, baby. yeahh.”

it feels so good you start crying, missing this so much. holding onto him for dear life as he somehow moves quicker, slouching in his spot so his neck settles back onto the couch, slipping his right hand under your right thigh and raising his hips to fuck up into you, lifting you like you're one of his weights at the gym. you watch as he mumbles ‘fuck’ with his eyes scrolled back and mouth wide open, jawline sharp, and adam’s apple in his throat prominent. he looked so fucking good right now you just had to kiss his neck. eren hitting that spot so good you can't control yourself from screaming, mouthing at his neck and leaving hickeys. he smells good, hints of musk and that damn cologne you love, feels good, looks even better. then wonders why you act the way you did. he’s made a monster.

“you fuck me so good, ‘ren. love you so much, missed you so much,” at this point you're babbling, saying anything that comes from your brain mindlessly. it's enough to make eren bellow streams of curses before hiking your ass off and nutting over your back, eren releasing a high-pitched gasp as he stares up at the ceiling in a daze. vision blurry. 

before you complain, eren’s lifting you higher and scoots further down to sit you on his face, hot mouth munching on your soaked cunt with puffy lips. your eyes cross and you scream into the air, gripping the couch as he slides two fingers, middle and pointer, deep into your hole, thrusting while his fat tongue laps at your clit, silver cuban link on his wrist cold on your stomach. he's swallowing your arousal like he's drinking a glass of water, moaning into your pussy and spanking your ass with his unoccupied hand.

“oh my . . .  god,” you're breathless as you cum, legs twitching and squealing from the intensity of your orgasm, losing balance and falling forward. eren smirks and smacks your ass one last time before moving from below you, sitting on his knees behind you and pushing your back down to fix your arch, turning your head to face him, fucked out face staring at him like he was crazy for putting his dick back inside you. you already feel so sore. 

eren arches his brow. “oh, you thought i was done?” 

[trendywaifus]

Just wish to say that your robin thirst and fic has me on chokehold this past few days. Now ex girlfriend Robin has been running through my head rent free 😭

real because i love the concept of ex girlfriend robin being such a hopeless romantic. i noticed that sunday in fics is written to be smitten with you—wb robin? if sunday’s a lover boy, i def know robin’s a lover girl too with a lil obsessive side to her.

the thin sheets rustles as robin gracefully slides her soft hands down your bare sides and squeezes. her emerald eyes are half-lidded, glowing with infatuation under the dim moonlight that’s barely reaching the dark corners of your bedroom. “ so enthralling. “ robin whispers, admiring your resting features as you slumber. something warm and welcoming blossoms in her chest the longer her gaze lingers on you. the lack of creases between your brows, the soft expression resting on your face, parted lips waiting to be kissed by her until they turn swollen again—heavens, you’re gorgeous. oh, the freedom of loving a woman again without prying eyes is wonderful. she delves down and takes her time in worshiping your body by mapping out every nook and cranny, kissing every mole and scar with her lips and tongue.

“ i won’t stop loving you. “ robin mutters passionately against your skin as she kisses down the valley of your breasts. you stir at the feeling of her wings brushing against your nipples. she trails down to your stomach and runs her warm tongue around your navel, tracing invisible, wet circles. “ even if we’re not sharing a title anymore, i’m still yours, both mind and soul.” she briefly dips her tongue inside before making her way down between your legs.

“ mm, “ your drowsy eyes slowly opens to the ceiling and they land down to the lovesick robin nestled between your legs. “ robin? “

she merely smiles, bringing two parted fingers to her lips and playfully sticks out her pink tongue between them. the drowsiness immediately drains from your body at the realization of robin’s gesture. your pussy flutters around nothing. “ i apologize for being greedy but i want to hear your pretty voice once more before our night together is over, my starlight. “

[delirious-donna]

Left Me In The Afterglow [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: the solace of your body is too much to resist. Hiromi might have already wrung himself dry within your walls, but he has no intent on moving anytime soon.

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warning: implied unprotected sex, overstimulation, cheeky banter, implied multiple rounds, cockwarming?

Masterlist

Black hair peppered with the occasional grey fell to your breast, dampened with sweat and sticking at odd angles to his brow. Hiromi offered continued noises from the depths of his chest; guttural groans of his orgasm lingered along with residual hiccups stuck in his throat. The scent of sex hung thick and sticky in the air, a blanket of the passion that had ensued.

“Animal…” you scolded with a laugh, reaching up to touch the marks you could feel blooming into life on your neck and forming a path down the front of your body.

Hiromi hissed when your cunt continued to clench and pulse around his cock, an uncontrollable bodily reaction that tried to milk him again despite him having nothing more to give, or so he thought.

“Speak for yourself little miss man-eater.”

Laughter only produced more of the mess that trickled from your sensitive entrance, a combination of your arousal and his seed squeezing around the plug he’d created to stuff you full. It dripped slow and lewd, coating your thighs, wetting his pelvis and soiling the sheets below.

All you could think of was the slow floating sensation you’d not long experienced, that feeling of weightlessness as your body tightened and went lax at the rush of your orgasm reaching its peak. You smiled indulgently, carding your fingers through the raven strands of his lustrous head of hair. If you looked over his shoulder you could make out the dragged marks of your nails etched into his shoulders, the sight serving as a reminder of how desperately you had clawed at him during the moment.

“Stop looking so delicious in a suit and tie then mister lawyer,” you teased, wiggling your hips just to hear him groan and watch him lower his face into the swell of your breasts.

He twitched, cock still thick and throbbing between your walls. Your feet curled around his legs once more, a hand grabbing blindly to feel his butt clench at the shameless touch.

“Watch it, you damn minx! Ah-ha…” He whined at the continued movement of your lower half, fixing you with a look of disbelief when you feigned complete ignorance to your mischief. “My love—”

His warning fell upon deaf ears. After all, nothing could beat the warmth of cradling your husband’s spent body into the soft nest of your embrace. Instead of listening to his words you scratched languidly against his scalp and drew idle patterns of unknown design down the length of his spine and across his shoulder blades. You hummed happily, offering him a glimpse of the cheeky side of you he had fallen for all those years ago.

Well, two could play at that game.

“Mm, sweetheart. Fuck—you feel divine. Maybe I’ll stay here a while,” he murmured sleepily. His cheek nuzzled the side of your breast, the bristle of the day’s growth on his jaw scratched the sensitive skin which was already overly sensitive to stimuli.

Hiromi seemed more than content to remain buried in your warmth, happy to keep his cock plugged into your cunt and you eyed him with suspicion. He merely looked back, blinking dark brown eyes that gleamed with something devious. You were about to lean back against the pillows when the hook of his distinguished nose rubbed against your taut nipple.

“Hiro, careful…” You whimpered, every nerve ending screaming from the building overstimulation, you weren’t sure you were ready for more, but he sure seemed to be. Insistent lips latched around your pebbled peak, a hot tongue swirling around the flesh until a string of saliva connected his mouth to your skin and he pulled back to gaze at you again, daring you to tell him no.

“Shh,” he cooed. His hips drew back only to slide forward in a soft thrust to remind you that he was still very much hard and willing to use his cock to fuck you dumb and into silence. Oh god, he was a menace. A menace that knew you would take it. “I just want to feel you for a little longer, my dick is all snug in you.”

The warmth in your belly returned at full force, a flush creeping across your chest and up your neck with it. Hiromi repeated his ministrations on the other nipple but this time he also bit gently at your flesh, smiling at your startled yelp.

You wanted to writhe, to buck your hips and create that sense of urgency that might spur your husband into another round. Anything to end this stalemate, the weight of his presence in your abused cunt both addicting and mania-inducing.

“Honey, please. I-I really need you to move—ah!”

Heat coiled in your nipples, the sting just the right side of pleasurable. You gasped at the renewed vigour in which he tugged on either nipple in tandem, his hands curling under your shoulders whilst his bodyweight kept you pinned into the mattress.

Hiromi purred around a mouthful of tender nipple. “Hm? What was that?”

It started out as retribution, but it hadn’t taken long for him to become completely absorbed in the snug fit of your bodies, of how your plush stomach and thighs held him with such love that all those tiring and logical thoughts in his brain leaked right out of his ears. He was at the mercy of your heat, and there was no where he’d rather be than right here.

He listened to your desperate little pleas for that extra friction, faint hiccups tugging a dopey smile into place that resulted in even more desperate tugs to his hair. Your breathing was erratic beneath his cheek, shallow pants emerging but it only made his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“You heard me! Goddammit, I’m going to burst if you don’t fuck me right now,” you implored with an especially forceful squirm that had him sinking right up to the root.

His whisky eyes blew to almost pure midnight at the change in angle, his balls contracting up to the base with need thrumming throughout his insides. Through those lust-blown eyes he watched your face, adoring every expression that painted across the pretty surface. He was so proud to call himself your husband, love stirring in his chest to mingle with the gut deep desire.

Hiromi could do this all night if you let him, and he certainly wanted to for at least a little while longer before he fucked you both to sleep.

“Y’know… I’m the luckiest man in the world, but even so—stay still and let me feel you, my perfect little minx.”

[fallecupid]

VICTORIA NEUMAN | NSFW ALPHABET

: thanks for the request, in fact, writing about victoria was even easier than writing about donaldson.!!!

A — ( aftercare ) after sex, victoria often just hugs your body or whispers sweet nothings to reignite your excitation, but doesn't really mean it. also, it's definitely holy ground, like showering and changing cum-stained bedding.

B — ( body part ) neuman would be lying if she said it didn't matter. your neck, one of her few weaknesses, sometimes just wants to nuzzle into it and smell your scent or leave a couple of sweet hickeys on your delicate skin.

C — ( cum ) in particularly tense moments, it's not always possible to keep clean, so the white sheets of her soft bed suffer.

D — ( dirty secret ) victoria would like to practice role-playing or bdsm, it cannot be called a dirty secret, for she is not ashamed of her desires, but for some reason she has not yet voiced it.

E — ( experience ) you're not the first. victoria is definitely an experienced woman who knows where to stick her fingers in and where to run her tongue, yet you never have a slip of doubt that she's committed to one of her exes.

F — ( favourite position ) victoria prefers to fuck you while you sit on her lap, unable to pull away or be too willful. only to whimper into her neck and wriggle.

G — ( goofy ) victoria is pretty damn serious herself, but during sex she becomes more of a horny cat?

H — ( hair ) often, during sex, you tug victoria's hair, which is so damn attractive, she's ready to melt while your fingers slide through her thick curls.

I — ( intimacy ) she can afford to take you out to a restaurant or buy you any trinket, expressing her affection in this way. of course she can be romantic, if that's important to you.

J — ( jack off ) she herself doesn’t jerk off, she has damn little time for this, too much work and crap surrounding her on all sides. but watching you jerk off during sex is a different story, but it’s too typical when she doesn’t let you cum, right?

K — ( kink ) any kind of obedience. you often practice this and this kink has become too common in sex.

L — ( location ) it could be anywhere. whether it's her office or a bathroom stall, it depends.

M — ( motivation ) it doesn't take much for a warm feeling to build up in her lower abdomen, but she still particularly likes your boldness.

N — ( no ) victoria will never really hurt you. the woman is able to tell when you're languidly asking her to stop and when you're really uncomfortable.

O — ( oral sex ) she doesn't mind being sandwiched between your thighs while her tongue moistens your clit, listening to muffled moans.

P — ( pace ) victoria never rushes, slowly caressing you with her fingers while running her tongue over your naked skin. every touch is a tease.

Q — ( quickie ) absolutely not. no speed in sex.

R — ( risk ) she has no problem fucking you on the balcony of her office or squeezing you in a dark corner at an event.

S — ( stamina ) after all she's super, she has enough energy to fuck you once or twice, but then again if you're exhausted after the first time, she sees no point in continuing.

T — ( toys ) your sex with victoria is bad enough without having to spice it up with some kind of toy.

U — ( unfair ) victoria always does this, especially when you're ready to cum, she stretches that moment like a rubber, teasing you and provoking you at the same time.

V — ( volume ) surprisingly she doesn't like to make more noise than necessary, so she mostly whimpers into your hair or rubs against your chest at all.

W — ( wildcard ) when she's at a debate, more often than not, instead of being distracted by the sweaty men next to her, she's replaying your recent sex in her head while keeping her guard up.

X — ( x-ray ) —

Y — ( yearning ) something between 6-7/10 eventually she's a public figure, an active politician and her brain splits in two to keep it all in her head, need and work.

Z — ( Zzz ) victoria doesn't go to bed at once, she manages to work until the middle of the night, right after sex.

[mediumgayitalian]

part one

———

Nico’s memory is…screwy.

The Lethe warped things, but the body stores memory in strange ways. The only image he has of his mother is the gentle swish of her skirts as Zeus incinerated her, the echo of her fond scoff and curled r’s. Even that memory was shown to him. Most of his childhood memories are from the Lotus Casino, really, running after Bianca through the flashing games and then running away from her, laughing, when she forbid him from driving on the racetrack. His sister is the centre of his memories. He keeps them under lock and key, buried in the same place he keeps Mythomagic stats and his constant string of fear.

(The key is rusted and the lock is loose. He sees her in every mirror, now, in every mirror. She was pretty. Beautiful. He always thought so. She hid herself in too-large sweaters and shapeless skirts, crooked stockings and her floppy green hat. Kept her hand curled around his, turned away from the boys who smiled at her, touched her shoulders. She was his entire world, and he is beginning to realize that he was her world, too, only she had no one to care for her. It makes Nico ache to think about, the tears he sometimes saw welling up in her dark eyes, the creases in her angular, beautiful face. Her pain is as familiar in his reflection as the shape of her nose, identical to his.)

(Gorgeous, Will called him.)

Warped as his memories are, Nico isn’t completely stranded — he has dreams.

His dreams, although rare, are clear. He is a spectator of himself, and voyeur of his own life. He does not remember Venice, does not remember his bedroom, the country side, the kitchen table. But he remembers every dream he has.

Including, embarrassingly, a lecture that had both him and Bianca red-cheeked and scowling.

“You-a smart, bambina,” Maria had said to Bianca, squeezing her chin with flour-covered hands. “Una belladonna giovane, si, Niccolò?”

Nico had snickered into his hands, legs kicking, looking at his sister cross-eyed with his tongue sticking out.

“Bianca è una picchia,” Nico had teased, repeating his mother’s words from the last time she’d been scolded. “Una piantagrane!”

Bianca’s eyes had flashed. “Nico, I’m gonna sell your stupido toys —”

“Sonno worries forra my Bianca,” Maria had interrupted, eyebrows raised. “Ragazzi comma running. But you, Niccolò.” She dragged him back by the cuff of his shirt, cutting off his escape attempts. ““È importante, capisci? Lookame. Niccolò. Lookame.”

He spent a lot of time fidgeting, he remembers. Bouncing off the walls.

His mother was patient.

“You gonna be uno marito, un giorno. Gonna marry a nice-a girl. You gotta sai come fate.”

He wakes up from the dream embarrassed.

He knows why it was brought from the depths of his subconscious. He’s not dense. But he wishes, as he rips the sheets off his sweaty body, that it had stayed in those stupid trenches.

His mother’s raspy, cigarette-smoker voice twists with Will’s smooth rumble: You gonna be uno marito, one day. I’ve had a crush on you for forever.

He buries his burning face in his knees. What is Will’s problem. Who says that?

Nico has had crushes before. Telling Percy made him nauseous for three days. And Will just — said it. Said it!

He rolls onto the floor, refusing to think about it any longer. He has things to do today. Children to humble. He cannot afford — distractions.

Of course, he is distracted anyway.

He hears the kids in his sword fighting class whisper to themselves. They usually do, but there’s an audible difference to it; they sound more like the giggling naiads than nervous kids. Nico spends all three of his classes tense as a rod, stiffer than he usually is a suffering for it.

He dismisses each one of his classes early.

By lunchtime, he’s exhausted. He’s tempted to skip all together, but yesterday he ran out of snacks, and if he skips two days in a row Will’ll come marching, which is the last thing he needs. He lingers in the amphitheatre, biting the inside of his thumb, weighing his options. Eat with a crowd of people, go hungry.

In the end, the choice is made for him.

He startled when his name is called by a group of people, each with similar levels of enthusiasm. Leo, Piper, Jason, and Annabeth — Percy is with his mom this week, Nico recalls — approach him, waving.

“We are flagrantly breaking the rules and eating at Jason’s table,” Piper says, smiling. “Sit with us.”

She says it like an offer, but Nico has a feeling it’s more of a command. He nods, hesitantly falling in step with Annabeth.

(His friendship with her startled him. So many years seething with jealousy, simmering with misplaced hate and pain; only to find out she’s stubborn, like he is, and kinda cagey. She knows what it’s like growing up glancing over your shoulder. They stand the same, shoulders loose but knees locked; and eat the same, like they’ll never see food again. She knows when to let him have his silence. He knows when to let her have her space.)

She nods at him, smiling slightly. Her grey hairs are dyed with pink, today. It clashes horribly with her camp shirt. It suits her.

“Kids do alright today?”

“Yeah.”

“Harley blow anything up?”

“Yeah.”

“Impressive, that one.”

Nico smiles. “Yeah.”

They’re the last ones to the dining pavilion. Most tables are already full, conversations rising and lulling, food disappearing from plates. Several people duck close to their friends as they walk by, whispering. Nico pretends not to notice, pretends not to see Annabeth’s frown.

“Nico! Hey! I was just about to come find ya!”

Tripping in his haste to get up from his table — or maybe over his snickering sister’s extended foot — Will bounds up to meet him, hair flopping into his eyes, grin wide and blinding.

Nico’s palms begin to sweat.

“Will,” he acknowledges, after a beat too long.

Will doesn’t seem to notice.

(Everyone else does.)

“Just wanted to let you know that I was up last night digging through the records, and I found a hymn that’ll fix up your face faster. Not that it needs fixing.” He winks, or maybe tries to. What he really does is blink both eyes, beam so bright it forces smile lines. Nico goes bright red. “So just drop by whenever! I’m not on duty today, but it’s cool, just come find me. Better sooner than later, right?”

He doesn’t wait for Nico’s response, already half turned away by the end of his sentence. “See ya!” he shouts, too loud for the limited size of the dining pavilion, already stumbling back to his table, halfway through a new conversation with Austin. He watches him, amused, indulging.

“So,” says a teasing voice, dragging out the vowel, gleeful. Nico turns to find four identical smirks. “He sounded eager.”

“Nope,” Nico says immediately, turning back the way he came. His face continues to grow exponentially more red, which at this point must be some kind of hazard. “Food is overrated. I’m gonna —”

“Oh, no you don’t,” and then there’s a hand clenched in the back of his jacket, pulling, and four echoing cackles, and he’s dragged over to Jason’s table kicking and hissing. “Time for you to spill.”

———

part three

[generalsdiary]

remember this message from aventurine?

yeah, so I wrote that scene.

To Aventurine's luck, he was rescued from the Nihility, the end, by a knight of Beauty. How lucky… He lives to see another day. Another assignment, another project, another trip which will all get blurred in a haze, memories merging together like melted crayons his mind too blurry if he ever even tried to recall.

A single drop of water slithered down his back under his satin shirt. His face was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, trembling, hands shaking with terror mirrored in his wide open eyes. The hill of his throat bopping as he gasps for air. The sheets felt too heavy, too warm, too suffocating. Another night he woke up drenched in sweat. Another nightmare where the air left his lungs, he was alone, they weren’t there, no peace of death, no calm embrace of sins forgiven and a new life beginning. The air scratched against his throat, rose thorns dragging along the sides of his windpipe poisoning his vocal cords, his words dying there before they could be vocalized in yelps, wails, or even pleadings. His chest rises and falls down in weak attempts to make his heart calm down, to stop it from jumping out of his chest and making him less of a human than he already thinks he is. Red crescent moons scattered inside his palms are sending aching pain to his nerve’s ends, he stares forward, he doesn’t pay them much mind- he cannot, the pain could ground him but he is too out of it. out of his mind, out of his body, desperately clutching onto the sheets, the branches of this existence, of this reality. Palms sweaty with the ending of the nightmare still trapped in his tense hands, the bitter taste on his tongue the flavor of nihility. The eyes that glow in the dark, that he would’ve sold in his past if it got him something… money? freedom? If such a thing even exists. Those same eyes like boiling water overflowing and, with salt and regret fall down the hills of his cheeks. He cannot control them, the tears, it is his body’s weak attempt at regulating his emotions. He has been running, every gamble, every manipulation, every flashy smile… it is him running from his past and back to it. his legs would give out underneath him if he was standing, knees too weak, feet too swollen, burning him up from inside. Settling more in the now, he feels the guilt dripping off his teeth, snake toxin that colors each of his smiles and paints his every pretty praise… did he truly do it just to see his family once more? throwing it all away for that… what would they think of him provoking an emanator, throwing this precious life away for the ones who have passed on? anger. White, hot anger, he regrets it. they wouldn’t- he never should’ve done it. they would want their little boy to persevere. to continue on. to stop gambling his own life. what is he worth if he won’t wager that of which has little matter to him? what blatant lies… the one who does not care for his life doesn’t clutch his chips in his hand for dear life. sadness. The ends of his hair stick to the back of his neck like ropes and chains that once bound him. or perhaps strings with which he is controlled. No one controls him. or perhaps this… glamourous, extravagant persona of Aventurine does. He needs to make a change. Cut the strings, control his own body, his choices, he can do better, he will do better… maybe he will dare to want to do better… in regards to himself. the various nightmares that keep his nights restless and his body frail keep coming, he exhales a heavy breath hoping, praying, that this is the last one. that this never-ending torment will end. Now his back aches from sitting up like so, or is it the weight of his job and his curse the ones which make it bend so? He has betrayed himself every day. putting the flamboyant clothes on and wearing it like a clown suit, parading around… except if someone gets close enough and sees the little Kakavasha hidden deep, far inside.

Sheets rustle behind him, grounding him even more in the present, anchoring him further in his body and out of the darkness of his dreams. “another one?” the baritone voice quietly asks, strong arms embracing his torso and his hand clutched onto them for… dear life. a hand presses against his damp forehead, seemingly checking his temperature. The thick, swallowing, dooming silence now cut with breathing of another that came to his awareness. Another set of ribs expanding and contracting against his own. A heart beating, pumping blood in rhythm with his. “I will draw us a bath.” The arms threaten to move away, and Aventurine grips them tightly refusing to let go, he turns back facing the man his eyes pleading, begging him to not go. “Veritas…” the man’s eyelashes flutter a few times before the indigo hair moves with a nod. “I’m here, Kakavasha. Right here. We will go together.”

[vampireloverz]

dancing with the devil

pairing: john wick x fem! reader

words: 2.5k

cw/tw: established relationship, age gap (vague but implied, more than a decade), size difference, reader wears a dress and heels, reader and john drink alcohol, public fingering, unprotected sex, au where reader basically takes helen's place, reader knows about john’s previous job, pre canon

You don’t know how you convinced John to go out dancing after dinner, maybe it was the bourbon that loosened him up, maybe it was the trail of kisses you left along his throat as you waited for a taxi. Either way, when the driver asked where to, John had said the name of some club nearby and you’d kissed him as a thank you.

Before long, you’re dancing to garish techno music, drink in hand. Bass rattling in your chest and your heartbeat in your throat as you sway and bob to the booming rhythm, all the while John keeps an eye on you from his seat at the bar. The neon lights strobing above occasionally illuminate him, drawing your focus to him past the throng of club goers every so often. 

A few people come up and dance with you; a pretty woman with dark lipstick and a wicked smile, someone wearing a shimmery top you like so much you make the effort to all but scream over the music to ask where they got it, a man who offers you one of his glow-stick bracelets with such drunken enthusiasm you have to accept, laughing.

Eventually jumping in place and bobbing your head to the beat has sobered you up a little, but you’re still pleasantly warm and fuzzy around the edges, smiling as you head back to John. He reaches for you as you approach and you take his hand, squeezing it as a silent thank you for indulging you and waiting so patiently while you had your fun.

“Hello, handsome,” you lean in so close your lips brush his ear as you greet him, “Care to buy me a drink?”

You pull back in time to watch his lips tick up almost imperceptibly as he nods, signaling the bartender over and ordering your drink of choice. You kiss John’s cheek as a thank you and sit on the stool beside him, his heavy hand finding its place on your thigh, curving around you easily. The drink goes down smooth as you curl your free arm around his, suddenly giddy with happiness. 

John turns your face to his with two fingers on the side of your chin, saying something you can’t quite hear but you can read his lips. You’re beautiful.

You let out a breathy little laugh that’s swallowed up by the music, heat rising to your cheeks as if it's the first time he’s ever complimented you. But you can’t help it, you cling to every carefully chosen word that falls from his lips. 

“Thank you,” you don’t bother projecting, he knows, and he leans forward to kiss you.

The flavor of bourbon is still strong on his tongue but you don’t mind the sting. His hand on your waist reminds you of the same sensation earlier today. Both of you tangled in his expensive sheets, the sun hitting his face just right to light up his dark eyes into rich brown, his lips leaving kisses further and further down your body…

You break the kiss to press your cheek against his, “Wanna get out of here?”

John pulls back and gives you a look, almost amused, and you laugh as you watch the cogs turn in his mind. He takes a long, thoughtful sip of his drink, emptying the glass and setting it down along with enough bills to pay for your drinks and then some. A thrill of excitement runs through you as you hop down from the barstool and John takes your hand. 

The crowd is dense but they seem to instinctively part for you two, a sea of drunken dancing split by nothing more than John Wick’s presence.

John rounds a corner out of nowhere right as you spot the exit, turning into somewhere quieter where the pounding bass turns into a pleasant thrum. You stumble into his back, disoriented by the sudden stop, but before you can question him, he spins, crowding you against the wall and kissing you. He kisses you with a surprising ferocity, a hot, hard press of lips with a small slip of tongue before he moves downward, kissing along the column of your neck as he palms your chest over your dress.

“John, what are you—?”

His hand is suddenly on your mouth, his palm to your lips as he orders, “Quiet,” as if anyone would hear.

Being cornered by John Wick sends a thrill down your spine, you suddenly feel high on adrenaline, and you know that this is only a minute fraction of what the people he dealt with at work feel. Felt. 

It’s not often you’re reminded he was out killing scores of people when you’d barely started high school. It’s a callus on his palm from gripping a gun, it’s old scars from blades and bullets, it’s the tattoos. The knowledge of it all, his strength, his age, makes this feel dangerous. Despite his past, maybe even because of it, you trust him. He’s never turned his deadly hands to you beyond giving you pleasure. 

You purse your lips to kiss his palm and his eyes soften just a touch, his hand pulling back to trace your mouth with his thumb. You kiss the pad of it, both your eyes locked as you part your lips, pink tongue barely peeking over your bottom lip. 

John lets out a small laugh as he feeds his thumb into your mouth, gently pressing down to feel the grooves of your teeth, the soft give of your tongue, “Don’t be too loud,” he whispers as his other hand pushes up your dress. 

You squirm when he cups your pussy, deft fingers tracing the line of your slit over the fabric before he slips his hand into your underwear. The warmth of his fingers as he slides them between your folds makes you gasp. John never takes long to find your clit, he’s always been impatient when it comes to your pleasure.

“You’re wet,” he comments, a little breathy and pleased.

“It's your fault,” you whine around his thumb.

Both of you make a pleased noise when he slides two fingers inside you, slow enough to have you squirming with impatience. John relents easily, pumping into you a few times to find his rhythm of slow, steady pulses before curling his fingers just the way you like it, the way you always beg for, you have to hold your breath to stop an indecent noise from flying out of your mouth. 

The laughs of some people passing by suddenly makes you remember you’re not alone. In fact, the two of you are quite exposed if someone takes a turn into the half-hidden halfway John had slipped you into. You gasp and lift your head to look at him, ignoring the fact that you feel yourself tighten up. John maintains eye contact as the voices draw closer and you blink, alarmed and aroused all at once. He stops pumping his fingers and you watch him make a decision. His fingers stay inside you, curled against the sensitive spot there as he presses the heel of his palm into your clit, giving you a single nod as you grind down into him.

“Yea,” he grunts, “That’s it.”

He takes his finger out of your mouth to cradle your head and press closer to you, hiding and muffling you as best he can as you shudder and press your face into his collar, moaning into it and breathing in his spiced cologne. The voices pass, leaving you both in semi silence and false seclusion. Your knees buckle, adrenaline making it feel all the more intense when your orgasm slices through you, shuddering and panting open-mouthed with your lips pressed onto whatever expensive fabric his suit is made of. 

He murmurs something you can’t quite catch over the ringing in your ears before he pulls out of your still throbbing pussy, circling your clit a few times with soaked fingers until you whine. The loss of his fingers makes you feel impossibly empty but watching him lick his fingers clean of you is a fair consolation. He lets out a small laugh at the expression on your face but you can tell he’s got it bad too. You’re half sure that if no one had walked by he would’ve fucked you here, or at least could’ve been persuaded to in the club’s bathroom.

“Let's go home,” John says, leaning down to kiss you. His dark hair falling around both your faces gives the illusion of privacy as you taste yourself on his tongue.

The look he gives you when you palm him over his pants makes you sure that you can get away with fooling around in the back of the cab ride back to your shared apartment. A new song starts in the club as the two of you leave and it feels like heavy bass pours onto the street, sticking in your chest until your cab is hailed and you both slip inside.

It’s late and traffic is to be expected, but you don’t mind because you can curl into John’s side and have your fun. He lets out a soft hum and drapes an arm around your waist, his hand around you tightening when you begin to loosen his tie. You play innocent at first, trailing your fingers along the column of his neck and down his chest, kissing his jaw when he shoots you a curious look. The cab jumps on an uneven patch of the road and your hand slips further down, past his belt until you’re palming him over his dark pants. 

You press a kiss to his neck when he stiffens, his strong hand tightening around your waist. A warning but not a sign to stop. His free hand curls into a fist as you trace the outline of his cock, rubbing your palm back and forth until he groans, low and deep enough for a car horn somewhere outside to drown the sound out.

John leans into you and utters a single word into your hairline, “Behave.”

Firm but not angry, far from it. You can’t help the smile that spreads on your face, but you obey and move your hand away, placing it onto a more appropriate position on your thigh until your ride is over.

John’s hand is a heavy comfort on the back of your neck as you walk into your building, at this hour you’re the only people in the lobby besides the doorman. The elevator ride up is mercifully quick and it feels like it only takes a blink for you and John to be stumbling into the bedroom, neither of you willing to break the kiss.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, scratching at his scalp when he slides his tongue along yours. He pulls away panting and presses his forehead to yours, both of you breathing each other’s air. One of his hands follows the shape of your body upwards until he can touch your chest, “You don’t know what you do to me.”

You let out a mix of a laugh and a moan as he pulls down the front of your dress, “I have some idea.”

John smiles against your lips as you kiss and he takes your tits in hand, holding the weight of them and squeezing gently. You sigh into his mouth when a callus scrapes your nipple, hardening it with each pass of his palm. 

“John,” you moan, shifting in place as the throb in your clit becomes insistent.

He hums thoughtfully, “Turn around.”

You do without question, looking over your shoulder as he kneels behind you, his hands steady on your hips. When you feel his lips on the back of your knee, you jolt a little, his beard lightly scratching at the sensitive skin there, but you’re more prepared when he kisses your other leg. John follows the curves and lines of your legs with his hands first, kissing your skin every few inches and only stopping when he reaches the hem of your dress. When he stands and touches your shoulder blade you think he’s going to unzip you, but instead he pushes you forward onto the bed, bending you over as he bunches and pulls your dress up over your hips.

“John!” you gasp, a short laugh bursting from your lips.

“What?” he asks like he’s not peeling your underwear down until it drops around your ankles.

You make a noncommittal noise and wiggle your hips, the emptiness in your core beginning to become almost unbearable.

“You’re beautiful,” you can’t tell if it’s because of your heels, your dress bunched around your hips, or just the way your ass looks when you’re bent over— but you decide you don’t care when you feel his cock glide through your folds, gathering your slick and nudging your clit, “Fuck, look at you.”

“Please, John,” you plea softly, “Fuck me.”

That punches a groan out of him, you feel the head of his cock push inside as he takes your hand. He slides himself to the hilt inside you in one slick thrust and it knocks the wind from you both. 

He sucks in a breath behind you and grips your hip with his free hand, his grasp firm as he starts to fuck you. John fucks into you deep and hard, rutting into you as pleasure washes over you both. You feel involuntary noises spilling from your mouth but you can’t think to stop yourself as you lose yourself in the rhythm of his thrusts. 

“I love you,” he grunts, fingers tightening on your hip as he goes rigid, his cock kicking inside you.

You groan into the pillows when you feel the hot spill of cum fill you, twitching every time his hips roll forward and his cock knocks against something tender inside you. It feels like forever before he finally slides out. You both give twin groans at the feeling, but you’re placated by his kisses along your shoulders. You drop your weight onto the bed, ignoring the way John laughs under his breath, and mumble something in half hearted protest as he starts to unzip and slide your dress off you, unclasping your bra and slipping your heels off your feet before he lays in the space beside you.

“Let’s clean up,” he suggests, reaching for you as you shimmy closer to him.

“In a minute.”

Resting in the easy silence, John traces your hairline and you feel the mess between your legs spill onto your inner thighs, hot and sticky and satisfying. You sling your arm over him, slowly unbuttoning his shirt with uncoordinated fingers so you can feel him. Your fingertips follow old scars until your eyelids droop and you rest your hand on him, the beat of his heart comfortingly steady beneath your palm.

“We should go out dancing more often,” you sleepily murmur.

John kisses the top of your head, “Whatever you want.”

[katsukisssstorm]

Rockstar!eren x black reader

18+ MDNI!

comments and reblogs are appreciated! follow me too if you want :)

rockstar eren and plug eren live in my head rent free!

Rockstar!eren who thought he could be away from you for 6 months as he toured... he couldnt

Rockstar!eren who books you a flight on the next plane after 3 days of being away from each other.

Rockstar!eren who kisses you deeply in the middle of the airport until you realize where you are and hurry to the car.

Rockstar!eren who tells you over and over again how much he missed you, how sad he's been cause you werent by his side.

Rockstar!eren who lets his hand rest on your thigh, hand getting dangerously close to your aching core as heat pools in your stomach.

Rockstar!eren who drops your bags off the second you step foot in his hotel room, his lips sucking harshly on your neck.

Rockstar!eren who takes his time lapping at your cunt, tongue fucking in and out of your little hole until your legs are shaking and your sobbing.

Rockstar!eren who spends hours between your legs. he's edging you one minute then the next he's trying to see how many times he can get you to cum on his tongue before the room service arrives.

Rockstar!eren who finally sinks three of his fingers in your pussy, one by one until your gushing on his hand, your juices making a mess on the sheets underneath you.

Rockstar!eren who swallows down your whimpers as he lets his angry red tip rub up and down your slit, nudging against your sensitive clit.

Rockstar!eren who fucks you all night, he goes from slow and deep to fast and hard, your neck and chest covered in dark hickeys, but eren isnt doing much better.

Rockstar!eren who cant wipe the smile off his face the next day when his stylist is cursing him out for all the hickeys that litter his neck, knowing its gonna be a bitch to try to cover up

Rockstar!eren who sends a wink in your direction as you stand backstage, singing along to every song he plays.

Rockstar!eren who has you on your knees in his dressing room during one of the breaks, a heavy hand resting on the back of your head as he roughly fucks you face, wiping away the tears that gather at your lash line

Rockstar!eren who sticks his ringed fingers in your mouth, watching as drool pools in the corner of your lips and drips down the side of your mouth.

Rockstar!eren who takes you back to his hotel room to do it all over again until tomorrow when you guys will be on the road until you get to the next city.

[wroteclassicaly]

“Be my Slave” with older Eddie for the prompts please!! (Obvs we’re the slave for him)

Hiiiii, thank you, baby doll! Ilysm ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

My first time writing for Older!Eddie, so I hope it’s okay?

Warnings: Language, a little NSFW.

~*~

“I’m sorry, what?” Your jaw was agape, the array of products littering his rumpled sheets, ones that he’d previously locked out of the way when he ate your pussy until his beard was drenched and his jaw ached.

“You said you wanted to know the heavier side of the shit I’m into, right? You gonna back out on me now, kiddo?”

Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head, muscles protesting with an engulfing sting. “I’m thirty, Eddie. I’m not a child. Whilst it might look that way to your geriatric ass—“

“Wasn’t sayin’ how old I was when my tongue was buried in your pathetic cunt just an hour ago, sweetheart. In fact,” he pauses, inhaling deeply as he leans over to snatch his Marlboros and lighter off the dinged up nightstand, retrieving one from the cellophane. He knocks the pack a few times, peering back into your eye-line, pulling a fresh stick out with a needy stare, the creases around his doe eyes blending in perfectly with his sharp features. “I can’t recall much in the realm of you having coherent speech. You were too busy crying and screaming so damned much.”

“Guess being a loser in high school has given you quite the ego now, hasn’t it?”

That comment doesn’t phase him. He shrugs a naked shoulder, threaded bracelet sliding down his wrist when he raises it, taunt knuckles protruding beneath his skin as it stretches to help him bring the flame to life. It licks the cherry to a bright sizzling burn, a smoke cloud swirling out and blanketing the room. “Just because I was a loser doesn’t mean I didn’t know how to fuck, little girl.”

It’s your turn to attempt a ridiculous deep breath. His musky scent of aftershave and your cunt still soaked into his beard, unwashed, it cascades over your every sense as he invades your space. “All your holes just open right up for me, don’t they?” His irises sparkle with mirth, a suggestion smirk pressing his mouth. He flicks the zippo closed in your face, your lids fluttering from the sudden action.

You want to remark, fish a deadly insult out to keep steering this dangerous game into further uncharted territory. Eddie’s experience clamps down on yours, leaving nothing left but a simpering mess of limbs and a panting bitch in heat. Still, you try.

“Yeah, well… Coke for seniors is free at McDonald’s, and you’re almost at that age.”

He snorts, his ringed hand propping the cigarette between his fingers and propping above your head on the wall, effectively caging you in. “See, you keep insulting me with my age, which is already a well established fact, babydoll. If you’re trying to prove a point by saying I fuck you like an old man, that bruise between your legs says otherwise.”

His free hand travels mid air, in a wiggling of calloused digits, dipping down to nudge the meat of your thick thigh in featherlight brushes. His dark curls, layered with wisps of silver — they tickle your cheek the moment he finds your immediate airspace, nose bumping your own, using it to tilt your gaze to meet his own. He doesn’t miss a beat, ashes hissing upon an inhalation, smoke being blown from a plush set of pursed lips. He wets them red, tilting his head, the words spoken across your mouth as if they’re a kiss, drifting like snow and settling, leaving behind impressions.

“Be my slave, sweetheart. Just for an hour. Let me show you what else this pre-geriatric can do.”

Word Prompts

[attollogame]

Summer Festival Burst Event

Running from July 15-Sept off of patreon (accessible for all tiers), the summer festival will consist of 6 short stories surrounding the Attollo Summer Festival occurring at Lovers Square!

Smash bottles, get lost in a horrible fun house, take a boat out on the ocean (with assistance), and enjoy the fireworks over some snap shots with the core cast.

------

Contrary to belief, Attollo is not always the dreary, destitute location that many perceive it to be, and you discover that when summer officially begins.

The smog that so often hangs above the city soon becomes a means of trapping the heat between the buildings and the concrete roads. You can see the shift in the population, as well; more people spend time indoors with their air conditioning—rendering some parts a ghost town—while others gravitate towards patios and store overhangs to bask in the warmth. 

You're surprised to see that even the sun appears to be combating its way through the clouds in a more proficient manner. 

The thing that really interests you about the shift into summer, however, are the posters that begin popping up around town on various telephone poles and building walls. With a bright, colourful theme, it greatly contrasts the usual aesthetic you find yourself subjected to—which is why you yank one off of the wall as soon as you see it. 

Your eyes narrow in suspicion as you read over what’s advertised. It’s a summer festival—apparently one that comes around every July. You flip the poster over in case there’s anything else advertised, but only a white sheet greets you back. 

Doubt still creeps in your mind as you pull out your phone and skim through the list of contacts you have available. You wanted to do a little status check on this thing, in case it’s Attollo’s version of a lure trap to just get all of the meagre amounts of money you have available. 

Your tongue sticks out a little as you thumb through who’s active. 

DW

Operator

Pariah

Suha

Sysba

Vasilisa

SYSBA EXCERPT

...

When you glance to the side, you spot Sysba lounging on one of the chairs, their feet up on the table and a glass of something red and questionable in their hand. They’re wearing a pair of dark sunglasses and staring intently at the bar across the street. You approach with an amused, albeit slightly confused, look. 

“Did something happen?” You ask as you sit in the chair next to them. Sysba hums and takes a slow sip of their drink before speaking. 

“Did you know they opened their patio after I did?” They finally say, moving their straw around their drink as they keep staring at the bar across the street. “Not only that, but they’re offering the same deals I’m offering my clients, they’ve started a throwback Thursday, and they’re doing renovations like I am.” 

You raise an eyebrow with a smirk. “You know that a lot of clubs and bars do deals and throwback nights, right?” 

At this, Sysba snaps their attention to you, and you can feel their glare even though their glasses conceal it. “They’re copying me, and it’s pissing me off.” 

...

SUHA EXCERPT

“Do you want to do it again?” Suha immediately asks, which has you sending her an incredulous look; or, you would have sent her this look, if your eyes were able to focus on her properly. You feel her hand lightly grab your arm again as she guides you over to a nearby bench and urges you to sit down. She stands in front of you and tilts your head back so that you’re looking up at her.

For a moment, she looks genuinely concerned.

Then she speaks.

“If you plan on vomiting, please do it in the trash bin and not on me. I didn’t pack paper towels.”

...

DREAMWALKER EXCERPT

“Nothing to concern yourself over.” He sighs before shifting in his seat. He reaches down and pulls a ball cap out from under the table, which he then pulls on his head. This is quickly accompanied by a pair of dark sunglasses, and after a moment, you’re looking at someone who is trying to be inconspicuous in the most conspicuous way. 

You stare at him, and he stares back as he crosses his arms over his chest. “What?” 

“You look ready to rob a bank.” You reply with a little grin. Either that, or hack the mainframe. Dreamwalker has a talent at blurring his features when he’s doing his whole ‘terrorize in your dreams’ spiel, but you’re still pretty sure that at least one person will recognize him based on demeanour alone. A scowl like that can only belong to one man. 

...

PARIAH EXCERPT

“My, oh my! Don’t we have ourselves a sharp shooter here?” The worker whistles slowly before stepping back and pointing to the rack above them. “Well, what would you like to claim today, then?”

Pariah looks up at the rack and puts their hands on their hips. After a moment, they point to a cat with large eyes and a permanently shocked expression on its face. The worker pulls one down and hands it to them with a cheery smile.

When Pariah steps down and goes back to where you are, they shove the stuffed cat in your arms. “Here. You two are wearing the exact same expression right now.”

Your expression shifts to a sardonic one as you wave the cat in the air and follow along after them. “Thanks. You really know how to make me swoon.”

“You think I’m trying to make you swoon?” They glance back at you with a cheeky grin. “Please, you look like you’re about to collapse in my arms from the heat alone. You think I need to work for this?"

...

OPERATOR EXCERPT

“God, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” you muse as you squint up to the cavernous ceiling above. It truly is an architectural feat, to craft an entire metropolis below ground. It’s an act that would usually take years to complete, but you figure that the perk of having powered abilities probably got it done a lot faster. Operator pockets his keys and comes to stand beside you.

“You’ll get used to it, trust me,” he sighs. “The more you come and visit, the more it’ll feel like entering any other city—other than the several hazards this area poses. Like stray dogs, for example.”

He gives you a pointed look before turning and beginning to walk down the street. You grimace as you follow behind. Stray dogs… it feels like he has no intention of letting you live that down any time soon.

In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a recording of your standoff saved on his hard drives downstairs.

...

VASILISA EXCERPT

By some miracle, you actually survive until you hear the familiar put, put, put, of Vasilisa’s car pulling up. You’re pretty sure it’s an import from outside of Attollo, and you’re also pretty sure it was made in the early 90’s. It’s a wagon with manual roll down windows, and yet she looks so happy as she pulls up and tugs down her sunglasses to peer at you.

“Well? How’s your first Attollo summer?”

You send her a look before circling back and getting into the passenger seat. You make sure your seat belt is on real secure before happily accepting the ice cold drink that she offers you. “I think I speak for everyone when I say it’s weather to melt in.”

[oogaboogasphincter]

black jaguar | dave york x f!reader

dave returns home from a job and can’t wait to indulge in you.

word count/warnings: 1.1k+ words // EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) MDNI!: reader and dave are married, reader has no physical description other than she has stretch marks, slight dub-con due to consensual somnophilia, primal kink like woah, masturbation (m and f), marking/love bites, mild blood mentions, dave is dark!coded and like slightly possessed in this bc it’s spooky season babyyy hehe 😈

a/n: i’m so excited to be participating in kinktober this year! i’m not following a specified prompt list or anything, but i have four pieces planned that i’ll release throughout the month (and possibly a series that i’ve been working on, but it might need more time to develop tbh) i hope you enjoy! <3

Dave comes into your bedroom and shuts the door behind him impossibly quiet, leaving you undisturbed in your peaceful slumber. The bottoms of his boots stick to the carpet, the blood of his slain enemy cloying with the fibers, and root him to the spot. The smart decision would’ve been to take them off downstairs and not trail evidence throughout the house, but right now, his rationality is plagued by a fog of desire; a ravenous compulsion clawing its way from his stomach and tearing pangs of hunger, thirst up his throat, leftover adrenaline from his job webbing the whites of his eyes with red. From the foot of your bed, he greedily drinks in the image of his perfect wife and plots his feast.

Your cheek is turned on the pillow, the eerie moonbeams that stream in through the window are reborn into holy light as they touch your face. On your stomach, one leg is hiked up, exposing your glistening core. A vibrator lays dormant just out of reach of your hand and there’s a wet spot on the sheets betwixt your thighs.

This is the only time that Dave allowed you to touch yourself, when he was away on a job. You would fret so much over him, wondering and worrying which dark corner of the world he found himself in, what morally questionable people he came into contact with, what dangerous conditions he had thrown himself into this time… all in the name of making sure he could take care of you. There was no other option but to fuck your self stupid in order to fall asleep every night. Of course, it was nothing like his brand of ecstasy, but it had to be enough to tide you over until he returned.

His gloves, ripped from his impatience to get them off, follow his bloodied jacket to the floor. He prowls forward with footsteps that hold the weight of the world but don’t make a sound. He sits next to you on your side of the bed, leaning in so close he can smell your arousal, surrendering his control to your allure like the tides to the moon. He studies your body, assessing exactly where he’d like to lay claim tonight. His lips, chapped from the bitter chill outside, press against your naked lower back in a litany of kisses, prepping your skin for his impending release.

Unable to stave off the craving any longer, he takes his cock out of his slacks and begins dragging his fingers along his length, stroking himself to hardness until the veins that run perpendicular to his girth are rigid with depravity. Resting on his forearm, he drops his nose down to the sheets and nestles the pool of slick you left in your wake, a groan shaking up his back and rumbling through his teeth. He drags his tongue along the wet spot, grunting with a newfound softness at your taste. Your essence is so sweet, so honest; deep down in his heart, he feels unworthy of such salvation, but he keeps gorging on you in the hopes that some of your purity might lodge itself in his heart.

His eyes rove over the slopes of your body, seamlessly riding along your every curve with awe. He reaches his fingers out to touch you for the first time in weeks and it’s like he’s been struck with a lightning bolt. Heart rate picks up, sweat breaks out on his forehead, his hips hump the air in a pathetic jolt. He traces the stretch marks that encircle your hips, dipping into the deeper ones like a ravine and following their length with reverence, swept away by their current.

His touch falls over your ass, depositing him at the precious apex of your thighs. With surgical precision, keeping you suspended in the dream realm, he finds his way into your folds and gathers some of your fresh wetness. It’s like you could sense that he’s there, priming your body for him subconsciously. Bringing it to his mouth and engulfing it, he doesn’t allow himself to drink directly from you because he’s entertained enough sins tonight. Tainting your sweetness with his stroke of malevolence would be irredeemable.

But Dave is far from a saint. His rough fingertips slink to your clit and circle it, eliciting some soft whimpers from your parted lips. His grip on his cock tightens at your sounds, gliding from base to tip at a frenzied speed. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to burst so soon, because the sight of your angelic form only propels him toward his peak. With his other senses heightened, your arousal feels even more luscious against his fingers; your sleepy, pitiful moans worm into his mind and make a deep magenta pound behind his eyelids. The air in his lungs is knocked out of him, a choked-out gasp squeezing out of his chest.

Some primal urge maws its way from inside his bones and unleashes itself in his body, flooding him with a raw mixture of possessiveness and love. Hunched over your back, he lurches forward and takes the flesh of where your neck and shoulder meet between his teeth as he comes hard, growling lowly in your ear. You awaken with a gasp, but not one of distaste; your voice quickly melts into a passionate moan as you recognize the distinct timbre that underlines Dave’s groaning. If it were anyone else but Dave, his sounds would be dramatic, silly even. But you know he’s not putting on any kind of show, that those animalistic sounds reverberate from his chest organically, and it puts a satisfied grin on your face.

The sticky drops of his release land on your lower back, their paths curving with the slope of your body. Once he’s emptied himself completely, Dave puts a hand in between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned beneath him for his viewing pleasure. He stares at your marked skin, from the translucent glimmer of sweat and spend on your back to the bite on your neck that is already blooming purple with blood. He collapses and molds himself to you, pressing dainty kisses to your neck as his instinct to nurture begins stemming back into his psyche. His fingers ghost against your wound almost apologetically. Almost.

He would feel a little more remorseful if it weren’t for the adoring glow in your eyes when you finally meet his gaze. God, he’d been aching to see you. He practically has a portfolio of you in his mind, countless memories that he can replay like film whenever he chooses, but nothing will ever come close to simply being in your presence. For the first time since he left you, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Your mirror it, as his true counterpart.

“Welcome home.”

main masterlist ♡ join my taglist!

💘taglist (if you’re crossed out it means i couldn’t tag you): @pascalpanic @melody13522 @tenderwhat @maievdenoir @pedrostories @uncassettodiricordi @harriedandharassed

[thetypingpup]

I feel like aftercare with dragon hwa would be so sweet 🥹 but like you taking care of him after blowing his mind 😵‍💫

seonghwa's mind is a complete haze as he comes down from his high. his body is alight with the gleam of the afterglow, the corners of his plush lips lifted in a lazy smile. his eyes remind closed, simply taking in the coolness of the evening air as it blows over his heated skin until he feels the silk cover of a sheet drape over him. thankfully, the smooth sheet is cool to the touch, letting him relax more into the bed. he lets his eyes peek open at the sound of movement in the room, and the distinct absence of you by his side.

his eyes first lock onto a glass of water on the bedside table, and a goblet filled with a sweet smelling liquid. curiously, he follows the sweet scent, peeking over to see what's inside. his tongue peeks from between his lips when he sees that the goblet is filled with peach nectar, his favorite. he's so stunned his breath almost stills in his lungs. surely a servant must've brought them here.

and that's when he sees you, discarding a torn bedsheet to be forgotten in the corner. it must've been you that retrieved the fresh sheet that covers him, as well as brought his favorite drink to his bedside. any words that make their way to his tongue are stunned to stone silence, and he lays there, simply watching you mill about. you cater to his every need, needs he wasn't aware that he had, pulling the curtains back to let more of the cool evening air flow into the room. he takes in the way you look in the golden light of sunset, how the rays of the dying sun highlight the iridescent rainbow sheen atop your golden scales, and give your entire countenance a regal gleam that has him spellbound. he still can't believe that he was lucky enough to have you in his bed, to be the one who's love was strong enough to break the curse that kept you from your draconic nature. though he's silent the entire time, his thick brows do more than enough of the talking, and you notice.

"what ails you, my prince? are you alright?" your voice is gentle as you come to his side, and your presence beside him already makes him want to sing to the heavens with delight. but still, he remains in bed, simply shuffling closer to you.

"did you bring these?" he inquires, moving even closer, until his head is almost in your lap.

"that i did." you nod, reaching out to slowly thread your fingers through his long dark hair. you gently gather his hair in your hand, tying the sweaty tresses up and away from his face, allowing the sight of you to be completely unobscured. he wasn't even aware that his bangs sticking to his forehead were bothersome until a cool breeze sweeps over his brow.

he frowns slightly still taken aback, "i should be the one caring for you, my queen. i should be the one serving you."

"oh, my sweet prince," you pause and settle on the bed beside him, cradling his face, "if we are to be mates, then we are to be equals, are we not?"

"that we are." he nods, though admittedly he's slightly distracted by the warmth of your hand, and he leans into your touch with a hum.

"that means that the same way you feel the urge to care for me, i too feel the same urge for you, and there's nothing wrong with accepting care."

and with this, he can free his mind from the association of your rank with your golden scales, and see them for the beautiful aurelian shade that they are. you lean down and slowly kiss along his chest, your lips moving up his body before your gentle hands follow suit. he leans back with a hum, for your every touch effortlessly grounds him, and anchors him in this present moment with you. you press your lips to the marks that have already begun to heal. all except for one, the scar of the claim mark that you left some time ago, right where his neck meets his collarbone, where he has since had a tattoo of a sun inked onto his skin to signify your claim on him. you trace the shape of the tattoo with gentle kisses, telling him that you've got him, and as his mate, you'll be here to take care of him.

"my beautiful prince." you muse aloud, and no matter how many times you call him that, he still feels heat rise to his face and a smile lift his lips. him being your prince is not a delineation of status, but a term of endearment that affirms how fond of him you are. he lifts his hand, absently letting his fingers dance across the tattoo on your own neck that outlines the mark he left on you. he feels that urge to take care of you, to serve you as he's never had to serve anyone in his life. he has to remind himself to relax, to sink into your touch, to let himself receive such attentive affection. and if it's you bestowing such gentle care to him, then this is something he is certainly capable of getting used to.

he pulls you in for a kiss, and you let him take the lead, pouring all of his appreciation for you into each press of his lips. you accept his humble thanks wholeheartedly, taking the lead and melding your lips to his, telling him with subtle sweeps of your tongue that you've got him, and you'll always be here to take care of your mate. the sun disappears over the horizon and the moon takes its place in the sky, and yet you two remain entangled.