#freak drabble

[channiesfreak]

Down Bad for Bf!Chan

text!au, bang chan x reader

warnings: fem!reader (reader referred to as girlfriend… but also papa), suggestive but not necessarily nsfw, mostly fluff

Begging your sexy beautiful future baby daddy, Channie for a selfie, he delivers.

Another stupid n short thing. Kinda fun to make these or whateva

[splishfish]

Thinking about…

~~~

Boyfriend!Toji Who loves keeping your legs in the air when he fucks you, adoring the way your toes spread and curl with each thrust. His hands grope and squish your thighs and calves smirking down at you as he kisses the skin whenever his hips roll into yours.

Boyfriend!Toji Who’s so deep inside you he can see the way your belly slightly distends when he pushes all the way in, his cock throbbing when he realizes he’s causing that bump in your belly.

Boyfriend!Toji Who loves it when you have a bush, it makes your sex life so much more raw and real, in his humble opinion. Maybe he’s weird, but he loves to sit deep inside you and grind your pubes together, his balls tightening against your ass as he cums deep into your welcoming womb.

Boyfriend!Toji Who doesn’t fuck you immediately, but rather slides his cock in and out with a wet squelch, watching the way your hole desperately tries to suck him back in, only to gape and clench around nothing. Oh, and did he mention he fucking loves the sloppy little sounds your cunt makes with each exit? Yeah, maybe he spends too much time teasing you than actually fucking you.

Boyfriend!Toji Chuckles whenever you cum, your face contorting into the cutest little thing, your toes curling and legs shaking, oh, he thinks it’s down right adorable. 

Boyfriend!Toji Who actually prefers slow sensual sex rather than fast and hard fucking. He wants to feel every bump inside you, wants to feel every clench and squeeze when he hits that squishy spot inside you just right…and it’s totally not because his stamina is slowly declining. Totally.

Boyfriend!Toji Who isn’t really into giving oral, but doesn’t mind eating you out occasionally. His mouth is so sloppy and lazy, tongue drawing rough circles around your clit while green eyes peer up at you with a heavy gaze. When he inevitably gets tired of that, he just locks his entire mouth around your labia, sucking harshly as if he was trying to drink all the juice out of you.

Boyfriend!Toji Who’s so thick, it takes a little over an hour to prep you. Extra lube constantly drizzled onto your pussy as his fingers curl and fuck deeper into your cunny, slowly adding a second and a third one to stretch your internal muscles. And even after, he spends a few minutes just fucking you on different sized dildos, making you cum maybe 3 or 4 times before finally slipping his cock inside.

Boyfriend!Toji Who’s determined to make you squirt even though you’ve never been able to. He does everything. Finger fucking you for hours until your crying and crawling away from him, fucking you dumb on his cock until you pass out, and even making you drink 3 bottles of water before sex…only for you to accidentally release your bladder halfway through your second orgasm.

Boyfriend!Toji Who finds out he has a piss kink, that same night.

~~~

A/N: it's 1 am and im horny. i will regret this in the morning

[alpali]

touch starved!tobio who gets so nervous around you. he’s an absolute fucking mess when you’re sat prettily on his lap, brushing his bangs out of his face.

“Are you sure this is okay Tobi?”

He hums, he can’t trust his voice right now. You smile at him and he thinks you have to be evil. You’re dangerously beautiful, every act of yours has him hypnotized and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“I’m gonna kiss you okay?”

“Ok.” He whispers.

His lidded eyes close when your lips are on his. He stares at you for a bit then his eyes fall close. He’s honestly so overwhelmed right now.

The way your hands rake through his hair. Your lips feeling so soft and plump. How you’re sitting so perfectly on his co—

He squeezes your hips when you deliver a nip to his lip. He pulls away and stares at you a little bewildered. All flushed and pupils blown wide yet you grin at him.

You trail kisses down his cheek, jaw, focusing on his neck. He starts getting restless the longer your lips linger on his neck. He’s panting, squirming, his hands shaking.

“You feel good?” You breathe against his neck and he gasps, just eagerly nodding you. You giggle at his reaction.

So just to push him more, your tongue peaks out, gliding along his pale skin. He hisses, his hips stuttering, his grip growing tighter on your hips.

“You like that Tobi?” You wait for him to reply.

Once he finally gained the confidence to do so, you suck and suck on his Addams Apple the moment he tries to speak. It results in him letting out a guttural and breathy moan.

His mouth stayed agape, more broken whines leaving him until you feel just how warm his lap felt. Getting up from your seat on his clothed crotch, a wet patch covers his pants.

He’s beyond embarrassed but he’s still panting, an arm covering his red cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry. It just—it was to much.” He breathes out. He wears a pout, balling his fist on his pants. You laugh at his answer, pecking his cheek.

“That’s okay baby. Let me help you clean up.” You say as you’re already sinking to your knees. 

Poor baby.

He doesn’t know what’s coming.

[starsofang]

simon had a bone to pick with you. a rather big one. why in god’s name were you, his girl, going on a date with johnny? granted, you weren’t exactly his, per se, but you damn sure weren’t anybody else’s.

he wasn’t the jealous type. sure, the thought of you laughing with johnny, kissing johnny, had his blood boiling, his fists tensing with the urge to hit the closest thing, his jaw pulled taut. and maybe he had a knot in his throat and a weight in his chest, but he wasn’t jealous, no.

being jealous meant he felt threatened, and simon was not threatened. you just had to be reminded of who you belonged to, right?

you sure as hell didn’t seem to mind as he plowed into you from behind, his chest to your back, hand curled around your throat while you choked out the most obscene noises he’d ever heard.

johnny was long forgotten from your mind, wiped away so it could be refocused on only simon and the way his cock filled you to the brim, slamming into your g-spot with every angry thrust.

how could you even think that you’re anybody else’s when he’s the only one who can have you creaming on his cock, brain so fucked out you could barely utter a word besides his own name?

he wasn’t jealous. at the end of the day, he knew exactly who you belonged to and whose cock left you dumb.

[bruisedfig]

simon riley does the knee thing when you makeout so you can rub yourself on his thick muscly thigh send tweet

[satoblue]

MDNI, f!reader, ghost husband satoru (he is dead after shinjuku but is stuck between worlds and haunts you), a little angsty at first then smutty, masturbation (satoru ofc sigh he is a freak even when deceased), cumming on your face. | not proofread, will likely play around with this idea more in the future, dividers made by me

ghost husband satoru . . . if there is one thing that hasn’t changed about him even though he is without a corporeal form — it is that he is capable of turning any situation sexual. though, his freakiness proves rather helpful this time as it confirms that maybe you can sense him at times. it first happens when you’re asleep one night, and like usual, your husband is watching over you.

all he feels - and all you feel these past couple of days - is nothing but grief and heartbreak. both of you were mourning (though he was the only one who was technically dead) the loss of each other and how you’d no longer be able to hold one another. to kiss, to caress, to feel your heartbeats against your chests. he often finds himself lost in thought, gazing at something distant and out of his reach, sights strictly stuck on your form. you toss and turn — and satoru, he would always complain about your icy feet and how he’d wake up in the middle of the night to your foot on his cheek. but now, he wishes more than anything in the world to feel the chill of your skin than that of death.

with each passing night, you only grow more restless as satoru’s scent seems to dissipate from the sheets and from the air of your home. you feel even colder than normal, the bed no longer warm and inviting. there was no comforting presence alongside you, no loud snores and breaths right beside your ear as a certain someone invades your space. for once and for forever, you have the bed all to yourself — and you hate it.

eventually, at some point, you end up on your back, lightly snoring as you finally manage to shut your eyes. satoru lets out a breath of relief. at least you’d have a couple hours of sleep to properly function the next day. as he continues to stare, however, his eyes don’t fail to roam over you — attention shifting from your face to your heaving chest. he can tell you weren’t wearing a bra like usual — your nipples poking through the thin fabric of your shirt.

seconds pass as he looks, and the harder he does . . . the harder he gets down below. satoru’s head whips down in shock, a bit flustered at the way his cock twitches to (ironically) life. how could he still do that? this paranormal stuff is weird — his paranormal penis is weird. out of all the times to get an erection . . . your husband shoots his gaze towards you, where you lay all sprawled out, covers kicked off from your wrestle with an imaginary creature in your dreams (at least, that is what he picked up on from your sleepy mumbles).

could he even…… cum? — like this, he means. he didn’t even know he could get a boner in this state so it wouldn’t exactly hurt to try. satoru crawls atop the bed slowly — and it doesn’t shift or dip as if he’s lighter than a feather, like he doesn’t even exist. yet, he still does so quietly and carefully, as if scared to wake you even though he knows it isn’t possible. he makes his way on top of you, straddling you. and as he lingers above, looking down at the sight of your slightly parted lips in your slumber, spying a bit of drool at the corner — he can’t help but throb in his pants with interest. you look so innocent and peaceful, and yet, your filthy (dead) husband can’t help but be a freak at a moment like this by getting off to it.

after a bit of (no) contemplating, he tugs down the front of his pants, enough to free his cock just a bit. he hisses slightly as his tip meets the abnormally icy air and with a sigh, he starts stroking himself — right above your face. unbelievably, heat creeps up onto his face and spreads throughout his entire body. this was wrong, but . . . you wouldn’t mind right? it’s not as though you knew your husband whom you’ve been crying over for the past few weeks is jerking off on you while you sleep . . . as a ghost.

the hand stroking him works faster, and if he could, he’d probably be sweating by now. letting out a string of groans and whines, his tip leaks and dribbles a bit onto your shirt, but it doesn’t bleed through and soak it. with that, he feels a little bolder, more confident and assured in his depravity and runs his mushroom tip over your lips only to feel a mixture of irritation and disappointment as it does nothing for him. all it serves is sending a weird sensation down his spine at the contact.

regardless of that, satoru imagines himself cumming straight into your open mouth, the familiar coil in his stomach building and he starts strokes himself even quicker, breathless gasps permeating the air while his hips rut desperately into his own hand. and before he can stop himself — his cock explodes, sending rope after rope of his semen on your face.

with a flinch, your eyes shoot wide open. satoru yelps, jolting back in surprise, almost stumbling back but catching himself with a hand on the bedding.

you blink up at the ceiling, startled like a lamb, before your hand reaches up slowly. and if his heart could beat, it’d be thundering in his chest right about now. he swallows, watching closely as you feel around your face for whatever just hit you …….. only to find nothing.

huh?

the evidence of his transparent orgasm doesn’t budge the slightest bit as your fingers trace around the perimeter of your face. that is, until you sit up and he shuffles back a bit, making room for you even though he technically doesn’t have to (it’s more out of instinct). and right then, his seed starts dripping down, unable to defy gravity. but you can no longer sense it now, as if the odd sensation suddenly vanished.

but, you felt it. you felt the phantom feeling of him blowing his load all over your face. out of all the things he’s done so far to get you to acknowledge that he is here, that he’s touching you — that’s the first bit of contact you recognize?

[spidehpig]

Prison/Ex Convict Ghost

Who gets assigned a pen pal while he’s serving time. Gets assigned to someone with a pretty little name. It’s almost endearing how they send him weekly letters sharing tidbits about their life, asking him about his life and his interests. He ignores them all. Every last letter he receives he reads with his nose upturned in distaste.

It isn’t until about the 11th letter that the pen pal program finally peaks his interest… This time his little pen pal sent him a polaroid of themself. And oh aren’t they just a dime… pretty little thing smiling innocently at the camera… He could swallow you whole. Rushes to the library to snag a pen and paper and FINALLY writes you back. He won’t let a pretty bird like this get away from him. Didn’t you mention you liked to cook a few letters ago? Oh he’s smitten now. Stuffs the little polaroid picture of yourself that you sent him into his pillow case so he can sneak it out after hours and fist his cock under the scratchy prison sheets to the image of your pretty smile… Rolls his eyes when Johnny whines and asks if they can share pen pals because he got some old guy as his. He wants a pretty bird sending him sweet letters too :(

Ghost only has 3 more months.. he can’t help but ask your name and where you’re from in his letters back to you. Cataloging every last detail about you so he can find you once he gets out. Pretty little thing should have never sent him such sweet letters in prison if they didn’t want a brute showing up on their doorstep a few months later…

[superbat-love]

Diana: I think I might be attracted to this guy, you know? He just seems like a good family man.

Clark: There’s nothing more attractive than a man who is protective of his family.

Diana: [nudges him playfully] Is that what attracted you to Bruce?

Clark: Of course! One time, I walked into the cafeteria, and suddenly the whole room turned red. Out of nowhere, Bruce came charging in, bodyslammed me to the ground, and kept yelling, “Stay away from my son!”

Diana:

Clark: We rolled around on the floor for a bit until some people managed to pull him off me. Turns out he thought Dick and I were dating. Luckily, the misunderstanding was cleared up once Bruce was trapped in a Lantern ring construct, and I finally had a chance to explain everything to him. Good times.

Diana: …Wow.

Clark: That was the moment I realized just how protective Bruce is of his family. And honestly, it made me admire him even more.

Diana: Maybe we need to reevaluate our attraction to “protective family men.”

[transthatmasc]

When Cas gets back and finds out that Dean adopted a dog while he was dead he insists they get a cat too. Dean puts up a little fight cause he’s allergic, but Cas touches him on the forehead and says “not anymore” and looks so pleased when Dean relents.

Dean is beyond thrilled though because for the first time he thinks this will make sure Cas always comes back and treat the bunker like his home too.

Cas is also secretly pleased that Dean was willing to let him get a pet to live at the bunker cause he can use it as an excuse to be around more often.

Sam watches this interaction with his hand on his gun because he doesn’t know if he should kill both of them or himself. (He still goes with them to pick a cat from the local shelter. He gets a laser pointer to make the cat run in between Dean and Cas while they’re having eye sex in the library)

[teddybeartoji]

zombie apocalypse au where you end up in a settlement and meet a cutiepie satoru. he's lived almost his entire life there – sure, he goes on runs every once in a while but you've been out there. it's different.

right?

the dark bags under your eyes have yet to fade but satoru has never heard you complain. he knows everybody gets a talk when they first come to this place; where they can get help, who they can talk to when if they have any problems. if you can't sleep. or eat. or if you still feel restless. it's understandable that the change from having to fight for your life on a daily basis to not even having to carry a gun with you is hard.

the food tastes weird when you're not starving and drinking water seems like a complete waste when you're not dying of thirst. the bed you sleep on is too soft, the sheets feel like silk and it makes your skin itch. it's off-putting.

and yet, not a single complaint has left your lips. you observe your surroundings while handing out pretty little smiles like they're candy. you say thank you and goodbye, you offer to help out with the chores that weren't even yours to begin with and you're willing to entertain the kids with silly jokes. it's an almost perfect mask.

but you're tense; your eyes are always scanning your environment despite the fact that you've been at the settlement for almost a week now. you stretch your lips to show your gratitude, but satoru sees the way your fist tightens whenever the room is too crowded. the way you pocket smaller snacks when you think that nobody is looking. the way you flinch at a faraway sound of a child's laugh.

satoru finds you utterly intriguing.

people come and go, but you... there's something different about you.

maybe it's the dark, murky look in your eyes whenever you're handling a knife. carving a piece of meat like it's something you do every day; your eyes are the only things that change – you give a small smile to the lady working next to you as a thank you for whatever kind of advice she just gave you. she pats the steak while laughing and satoru doesn't miss the way your lips twitch.

you lick the remnants of the meat that stick to your fingers, the liquid that dribbles down the side of your hand the second she turns around. and satoru can't look away.

but there's no obvious malice.

it's interesting.

satoru is no detective, but he's done his fair share of people looking. what else is there to do when you're locked behind big walls; people are interesting, especially now that the world has ended. they tick faster, they explode bigger. they shiver more, they cry more. the lies have more consequences. it's hard to trust others, it's hard to trust anybody at this point. but satoru's eyes are keen, more so than anyone else's there.

you're not some caged beast, you're no dog on a leash, but you're an animal nonetheless. satoru just doesn't know which one yet. which of the living things that reside in the woods is calm enough to get so close to other people? confident enough. arrogant enough.

which one of them is as curious as you are? as sly? which one of them knows how to hide their sharp teeth behind a warm smile? satoru promises to himself that he'll figure it out, no matter what it takes.

or maybe the 'something' is the way you handle yourself when things go south. you didn't look away when a walker that managed to slip in through the gates sank his teeth into a man's neck. when everybody else was in shock, their eyes set on the gory sight in front of them – you were the first to grab the closest thing resembling a weapon and to deal with it.

blood splattered all over your clean clothes, your hair, your face. but you paid it no mind. this is what you're used to, this is what's normal. taking a knife to the poor wailing man laying on the ground was nothing special either. you kneeled down beside him and looked him in the eyes as you did it.

desperate hands reached out for you as fear settled in his stomach. he grabbed onto the collar of your shirt and pulled you closer, pleas stumbling from his lips like a waterfall. but to you, he was dead already. there's no remorse, there's no guilt. you're not a killer, you're a survivor.

satoru's mind raced as he watched you work while all the other had turned away, their sobs barely reaching his ears. no remorse, no guilt.

he just thought the blood looked beautiful on you.

but you're keen, too.

you try not to pay him too much attention, you try not to look but you feel his curious eyes wherever you go. you hear him laugh and you see his big smiles. he likes to play with the kids and he likes to tease his peers. he seems to know just about everybody, mingling in their lives by acting like a cupid or just indulging in gossip like some high schooler.

but something rotten sprouts deep inside him as well.

there's blood on his hands and you know it the second your gazes meet from across the big dining hall. the corners of his eyes crinkle and his dimples make a show as he gives you a grin, sharp teeth shining right at you. he knows you and you know him.

a survivor always recognizes a survivor.

[channiesfreak]

Chan and his puppy girl

warnings : puppy play (obvi), gentle dom!chan, a lil anal play, obvi 18+, reader has a pussy and referred to w fem terms.

word count: 387, a true drabble

Chan loves himself a dumb puppy girl. Loves when you let your guard down, give in to your most primal instincts, and let him take care of you even if it’s just every once in a while. After all, it can be difficult for him to let himself truly take on a dominant persona, especially when he has you so vulnerable during moments of intimacy. He doesn’t like being or feeling angry, even if it’s just for play, but he loves nurturing and protecting. That’s why, when you text asking if the two of you can ‘play tonight?’ a gentle smile creeps onto his face and he feels right at home.

(smut under cut)

His dumb puppy girl dragging around her big stuffed animal tells him exactly what you need tonight. He calls it a chew toy just to see you blush and squirm, but he isn’t too far off. You always get so drooly and messy when you get like this. Especially when he lets you rut down in his lap like a bitch in heat, slobbering all over the fur of your chew toy. It’s easy to coax out of your mouth, especially when he is letting you mouth at his neck instead.

“Hm? Puppy is needy tonight, huh?” The soft lilt of his voice as he coos does nothing to help the fog in your head or the heat between your legs. After all, this was just meant to be an innocent cuddle session but he knows dumb puppies don’t know how to mind themselves. And he really really isn’t mean, but he doesn’t mind grabbing you by the scruff of your neck and hoisting you back when your teeth start scraping at his neck. A stern “no biting” is enough to have your tail tucking between your legs.

Speaking of, he definitely is the type to put a tail butt plug in you!! Face down, ass up, blubbering into the mattress as he works lubed fingers into your ass. He coos lovingly and uses his other hand to rub gently over your drooly pussy. “Your cunt miss me that much? Don’t worry I’ll fill you up soon?” And a kiss to your shoulder blade before finally working the plug into place. Makes you wag your tail while he has you folded over, just because he can. <3

Once again, yapping to yap. :) not proof read literally just spat this out in my notes app n thought I should share

[fandomfloozy]

nsfw mdni

watching jason todd work on his motorcycle be like...

jason: what?

y/n: just lookin'

jason: you look like you got something to say

y/n: [shakes head] mm-mm

jason: you sure?

y/n: ...well...

jason: tell me

y/n: mmmm... no, it's too embarrassing

jason: pfft. you? embarrassed?

y/n: perish the thought

jason: so lay it on me

y/n: oh, i'll lay something on you

jason: babe...

y/n: jaybird, i don't mean to be crass but--

jason: sweetheart, just spit it out--

y/n: i wanna suck your dick so bad

jason: ...

jason: /////// jesus christ...

~°•*~

A/N: something about a man all greased up and sweaty while working on machinery uwu

[rafeslittlepup]

Could you write something foot related with rafe? Like literally anything 😖

you’ve just finished your little nighttime routine , skin glowing, lashes brushed, lip balm freshly reapplied, and you’re curled up on the velvet couch in one of baby pink babydolls.

rafe is sitting at the other end, sprawled like a king, arms stretched over the back of the cushions, wet hair a little messy from showering. and his gaze flickers to your feet. bare, dainty, freshly lotioned, and resting against the cushion.

“put ’em here,” he mutters, tapping his thigh.

you blink and giggle a bit. “what?”

“your feet, bunny. c’mon. let me see ’em.”

so you slide them over, a little confused, until he catches them in one big hand.

“…you’ve been gettin’ your toes done again without tellin’ me?”

“rafe—”

“look at this—” he lifts your foot like it’s a sacred object, inspecting the pale pink polish. “you put little pearls on your damn toes? for what? who’s seein’ these but me?”

“i just liked them!” you squeak, already giggling.

rafe shakes his head slowly, massing your foot slowly. “little doll feet, they’re so cute and small. you know how crazy you drive me when you walk around barefoot in the house?” he kisses the arch of your foot , then bites it playfully

he’s massaging it like it owes him something and mumbling about how “ungrateful” it is of you to keep secrets like this, while you’re half-melting from how nice it actually feels.

you try to protest, but your husband is kneading your feet like you’re royalty, and honestly? why would you fight that?

[superhoeva]

it’s after jack abbot greets to you in the kitchen with his usual kisses to you nose and lips, plus a long, squeezing hug that he pauses.

there’s something about your eyes… beautiful as always, but a familiar haze just behind their usual sparkle that has him pausing to stare. you watch, blinking and gulping as his eyes scan your face.

the seconds that pass stretch over a thick silence, jack only ending it with a squinting sigh. "gimme your hand for a sec, doll."

you abide, hiding the way you bit at the inside of your cheek as you hand places into his. he squeezes it, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles with a warming fondness. the fuzz that fills your stomach zaps away into something that forces you to gasp when abbot plunges two of his fingers into his mouth.

jack recognizes the taste in an instant–you. the tang is still lingering happily. eyes connect with yours, he swirls his tongue once before popping them out of his mouth.

when he tilts his head, you can feel the dissatisfaction rolling off jack in waves. you don't dare look away from his stare–his slightly-annoyed, feverish stare–and give him your best puppy eyes.

"thought i told you to wait," he ignore your pout and steps to you in a long stalk, arms wrapping around your waist to cage you in. pinching at the skin, he sniffs. "how many?"

"just one."

"panties on?" the question comes with a squeeze to your ass.

"mmhm," you hum, "it was quick, i swear. and not even that good since you weren't here..."

he blinks. "it wasn't, huh?"

you shake your head just as jack leans traps you between himself and the counter. a rush of cold douses over you when he backs away with a cocked hip.

"gimme 'em, please," he commands, voice low and edging. the eyebrows he elevates by half an inch stop you from trying to reason with him. with a heavy stare, jack watches as you rid yourself of your shorts before peeling down your still dam panties with a bit lip.

you pass the garment–simple, thin briefs with a lace trim–to him on a single finger, and he's balling it up before you can blink.

"...open."

standing there, you open because what the fuck else would you do, and jack stuffs the underwear against your tongue. planting a kiss on your nose, he spins you gently and leans you against the counter elbows-first.

when you fold at the waist, jack has to smirk to himself because your slit is glistening–still or already, he isn't sure of, yet it doesn't matter. you'll be leaking by the time he's done with you tonight.

"how many you think i'm thinkin', baby?" jack asks, smoothing a palm across the skin of your cheeks. clenching around nothing, you turn to peek at him over your shoulder, words muffled. the man grins at you, winking.

"you said twenty?" eyes widening, you shake your head. you certainly did not say that. "hm. that does does like too many, huh? i'll be nice and bump it down to nineteen."

you huff through your nose and hang your head.

fuck.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[bruisedfig]

i NEEEEED your thoughts on dean being a little shit RIGHT TF NOWWWW

like, all i can think of his him being so over the top flirty and everyone around him is sooo over it, like, BEYOND over it bc man has NO filter ( not in a bad way tho ) and NO shame

and yk… maybe how someone would try to correct him 👀 ( if that’s even possible smh ) 💕💕

okay so i’m picturing early seasons drunk!dean being way too much and trying to pick up girls at a bar bc he thinks reader doesn’t have the same reciprocal feelings towards him.

and so he’s hitting on every girl in the joint with the same pickup lines he’s been using his entire life, but all the women are uninterested (or at least appear that way) because you’re sitting at the table watching dean with the deepest scowl on your face—like a scary jealous guard dog.

but dean’s too drunk to notice.

until finally you’ve had enough of his drunken behaviour, and you head over to him borderline harassing a girl.

“dean, enough.”

“huh? sweetheart, do you mind? i’m kinda busy right now.”

the girl he’s talking to smiles awkwardly at you.

“dean, i said enough. we’re going. now.”

“you can head out. i’m staying.”

you sigh, shooting an apologetic look to the girl, before grabbing dean by the jaw, guiding his eyes to yours.

“i’m not telling you again, winchester. we’re leaving and you’re coming with me.”

dean’s dick twitches in his pants—your stern commanding voice breaking through the drunken barrier surrounding his brain. his glossy eyes narrow for a moment, searching yours, before he cracks an inquisitive smirk. “alright, fine.”

he bids farewell to the girl, closes his tab, and follows you out to the impala. it’s like words don’t even matter because you’re on each other the second you reach the car, slipping into the backseat, hands everywhere, lips locked, quiet groans.

you pull him out and he whines, his dick leaking all over your hand because you’re finally touching him, finally with him.

but you’re still kinda mad at him, and so you’re jerking him off slowly, edging him until he’s teary-eyed and apologising, hips rolling up into your hand, begging to cum for you.

“you wanna cum? tell me you’re not gonna act like that again. tell me you’re mine. tell me this cock’s mine.”

“s’yours. i’m yours… always have been. please– fuck!”

[lushleona]

circus!freak mattheo seeing reader sword swallowing

and like... blowjob after??? you see the vison???

── .✦ giving circus freak!mattheo a blowjob after a performance

warnings: fem!reader, sexual content, oral m!recieving, throatfucking, praise

the moment you stepped off the stage, wiping the back of your hand across your lips, you knew.  

mattheo’s eyes had been on you the entire time—watching, waiting. the second your routine ended, he was already moving, cutting through the backstage chaos like a blade through silk.  

“you’ve got a filthy little talent, don’t you?” his voice was a low murmur against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “swallowing swords like that.”  

you didn’t need to look at him to know the expression he wore—that slow, wolfish grin, dark eyes glinting with something wicked.  

“whatever you’re thinking, don’t.” you tossed him a glance, feigning exasperation, but the heat pooling between your thighs betrayed you.  

mattheo only chuckled, his fingers ghosting over your wrist before curling around it. his grip was firm, not enough to drag you, but enough to make sure you followed when he pulled you past the velvet curtains, deeper into the shadows of the empty tent.  

“you already know what i’m thinking,” he said, backing you against one of the towering support beams, the scent of fire oil and sweat clinging to his skin.  

his hand tipped your chin up, thumb pressing against your bottom lip.  

“so show me,” he murmured.  

next thing you knew, your knees were aching against the cold wooden floor, but you barely noticed. all you could focus on was mattheo’s cock—thick and heavy on your tongue, pulsing against your lips as he guided himself deeper, fingers wrapped tight in your hair.  

“fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, his head dropping back against the post. his grip tightened, a silent command. “look at you. my good little freak, taking me so well.”  

you whimpered at the praise, at the way his voice dropped lower, rougher.  

his other hand slid down to your throat, fingers curling around the sides—not squeezing, just holding, just feeling how his cock stretched you from the inside.  

“feel that?” he murmured, pressing down just enough to make your head swim. “feel how deep you’re taking me?”  

you tried to nod, but the movement only made him groan, his hips twitching forward.  

“you can take more.”  

he didn’t wait for permission.  

his grip in your hair turned ruthless, guiding your head until your nose brushed against the sharp line of his hips. your throat protested, spasming around him, but he only groaned, his grip on your neck tightening slightly.  

“there we fucking go,” he growled. “that’s my girl.”  

tears pricked your eyes as he held you there, cock buried to the hilt, waiting until your throat relaxed around him before he pulled back.  

he didn’t let you breathe for long.  

his thrusts were slow at first, teasing, his grip forcing you to take it how he wanted. the control made your skin burn, your thighs pressing together as wetness pooled between them.  

“knew you’d be good at this,” he murmured, his fingers slipping down to drag over your cheek, smearing spit and precum across your flushed skin. “so fucking eager to please.”  

you moaned around him, making his cock throb.  

“fuck,” he groaned. “bet you’re soaking yourself right now. bet i could shove my hand between those pretty thighs and find you dripping.”  

you clenched at his words, heat flooding your stomach.  

“messy little thing,” he murmured, watching spit drip down your chin. “gonna have to clean you up when we’re done.”  

his hips snapped forward sharply, pushing himself back down your throat, making you gag.

mattheo groaned at the sound, his fingers tightening in your hair.  

“fuck—that’s it. choke on it, love. show me how well you can take it.”  

trust.  

that’s what he always talked about. what he demanded.  

and right now, with his hand tight in your hair, his cock stretching your throat, your body entirely at his mercy—you trusted him.  

you couldn’t breathe. could only let him use you how he pleased, his cock sliding deep, over and over, until your vision blurred. and it felt good.

his groans grew rougher, his grip almost painful, his pace turning brutal.  

“shit—gonna come,” he warned, voice strained.  

you hummed in response, making his hips stutter.

warmth flooded your throat as he spilled into your mouth, his hips shuddering, his curses breaking into breathless laughter as he watched you swallow every drop.  

his hand slid up to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking over your cheek as he watched you swallow.  

when he finally pulled back, you gasped for air, your lips slick, eyes glassy.  

mattheo crouched down to your level, his fingers tilting your chin up while his other wrist rested on his knee.

“open,” he murmured.  

you obeyed, sticking out your tongue just enough to show him you’d taken everything.  

his smirk was filthy.

“good fucking girl.”

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