#hard times those were for lust fans | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hazelfoureyes · 9 months ago

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I just need you to know this story has had me in a chokehold and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. This is gonna be a weird smutty slow burn, so still smut every post but full p in v sex will be a reward you have to work for?

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Redsmut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedysmut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

「warnings/tags: HumanAlastor x FemaleReader, implied attempt to SA, fingering, plot with porn?, Multi part work, bad kind of choking, blood kink, blood licking, just in general blood, Non-Sex repulsed Ace Spectrum Alastor, stalking, murder obvs, finger sucking, smoking kinda kills if you squint, Public sex acts, garter belt, You have a stage name but no one important uses it, Greed, Lust, Human Alastor is a little different than Demon Alastor. 」

minors dni 💅🏽

Part 1 Pretty in Red

The marriage between burlesque and jazz wasn’t unexpected. Before the Great Depression took the nation into a stranglehold, both Jazz and Burlesque were immoral wastes of time only the most barbaric sought out.

And oh, did you love it. Everyone who was made to feel like nobody flocked to your theater and the surrounding neighborhood. Men, women, the people who didn’t agree with either. The biblically inclined, those closer to sodom, the sapphic dolls. Everyone was equal in the halls of jazz rooms and theatres where burlesquers were welcome.

Because of the inclusive nature of such places, you often saw familiar faces. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone from Thursday night to be seen Saturday at a different locale.

That presented certain opportunities and challenges. When you found a good mark, it was easy to be wherever he was and play it off as fate and common interests.

And when you gained a new stalker, someone wanting a personal show, it could be hard to tell until it was too late.

Maybe it was your greed, or just your love of attention, but you found yourself focused almost entirely on a particularly well dressed man one evening. You’d seen him around before. Clean cut, sharp suit, a welcoming smile always on display. He looked like he had money, the most attractive quality of any man you could meet.

So focused on his gleaming stare from the side booths you hadn’t noticed the man at the stage front tables. You barely noticed him the night before, or the night before that, either. Because Smiles, as you took to calling the handsome stranger in the back, had been here three nights now too.

You really put on a show. Shimmying your hips, ostrich feathers following suit with every move. Your brassiere was heavy with shining rhinestones, panties of silk and lace. Your set was almost done, all that was left was to remove your top and slink away behind the curtains to hollers and whistles. Back turned, you unhooked the painful bra and let it fall to the stage with a clunk. Foot in front of foot, you stalked the stage length. With your hand hidden from view you took the feathered fan from the stagehand behind the curtain. As the music crescendoed you turned, fan unfurling just in time to hide yourself.

Groans, mass begging from the audience. Your stage name a chant now, a prayer. “Autumn! Come on!”

As the band slowed, music dying to mark the end of your number, you scanned the crowd. Eyes blinking coyly, you mouthed, “More? Did you want more?”

People were jumping to their feet, not Smiles but that was fine, you were focused now on the adoration of the crowd. The music ended, a second of silence.

You winked, the drums hitting one last beat as you let the fan close.

Fanfare! Men whistling, women clapping. Someone shouted a marriage proposal. You took a bow, twirled on the balls of your feet and slipped gracefully behind the curtains.

Your hands wound to your spine, rubbing blood flow back into your skin as the staff removed your headdress. Someone slipped your robe over you and you nodded a thanks, aching feet carrying you to the dressing room. It was chaos, as usual. Women buzzing around, tits and ass here and there. You smiled. You happened to enjoy this part of the job. Soft bodies in shiny costumes, lovely smells and sweet voices. If you could get dressed quickly enough, you could still take a tour of the room and slide into Smiles’ booth.

“Enjoy the show?” You’d ask. He’d lean in, maybe blush, “Always when you’re here.” Or something like that. You’d cozy up to him, flag down a waiter for something strong and pricey, and get him properly drunk. He’d wake up outside, fine and dandy except his missing cash.

You’ll call him a drunkard if he confronts you, accuse him of getting himself robbed after you refused his advances. You’ll say it too loudly, and he’ll run off.

You danced a little in your seat, another game of cat and mouse about to commence. But first, a smoke.

Unbeknownst to you, the well dressed man hadn’t come to see you. He preferred your singing shows at the little dive bar two blocks over. No, he had come for the man at the front table. For weeks now, he had watched him harassing the ladies of the few joints in New Orleans that weren’t regularly hounded by police. Your smiley mark even heard stories of unsavory acts, many women leaving the dance scene entirely after.

He didn’t care for it. He didn’t care for him. So he took to his hunt, following the man to come to his own conclusions. The pattern of behavior was obvious, and though he hadn’t seen what ended the last obsession, it was clear one of the performers at this club was being stalked as the next victim.

He watched your dance with half lidded eyes, just as much as he watched the man give dirty looks to the other men cheering. Heard the, “Marry me!” shouted at you.

Yes, it was obvious to him now.

So when the target of his interest got up and pushed his way into a staff only door, well, the well dressed man was sure to follow.

The great thing about confidence and a nicely tailored suit is that no one questions you about why you are where you are. So while the brute he tailed had to shove past people to get wherever he was going, people smiled and made room for the gentleman who was not far behind.

He caught the street access door before it closed, allowing it to stay open just a sliver. Enough for one golden brown eye to watch the events unfold.

“Can I have a light?” The stranger asked you. You looked at him, then to the staff only entrance he just came out of.

“I don’t think I know you….,” you handed him the lighter but he instead leaned into you, cigarette hanging from his lips. “You… new?”

You sparked the flint with a practiced thumb, taking three tries to get it lit, and put your hand out. The man didn’t budge, eyebrows rising, “You really don’t recognize me?” He asked, motioning with his hand to come closer. Your eyes glanced down the alley, cars slowly moving past the street. When you looked back, the man took your wrist in his hand. He held you so tightly that the muscles in your palm locked and you dropped the lighter.

“What the fu-,” his hand came across your face, halting your sentence.

“I’m your best customer. Every show. I’m the one who brings flowers.”

Dozens of men bring flowers, especially on the weekend shows. You held your cheek, skin burning. Your hand pulled back, the corner of your lip bleeding from his rings. Scrambling, your mind was searching for the right words.

With a forced smiled, your shaky voice finally piped up, “Oh! Yeah! Oh geez. I am so sorry, doll. I’m just so tired, and the alley is so dark. Here, let’s go inside so I can get a better look at you.” You tried to take your wrist from him but he didn’t loosen up.

“Nah, you ain’t tricking me. You owe me.” He pulled you into him, large hand gripping your face with ease, “You can’t lead on men like this and think you don’t gotta answer for it.” He kissed you, forcing your face into his. “Bitch! Did you fucking bite me?” He threw you into the tin trash cans beside the wall, knocking the wind out of you.

No purse, no sharp object, not even a heeled shoe to defend yourself with. You cursed, so preoccupied with Smiles you forgot your wits.

You spit out the copper saliva, his blood and yours. “I’ll keep biting, too.”

Why scream? The sounds of the next act were bouncing off the brick walls. Upbeat jazz and applause echoing around you. No one would hear you. Men can break your body but you never had to give them your dignity. Never give them the satisfaction of a response.

No. No screaming. You instead spent your energy trying to get to your feet. He took hold of your neck now, throttling you. It wasn’t what you had expected, but as he lifted you off the ground and your little dressing room slippers fell off, you thought this was actually better.

“Well I think that’s quite enough.”

You felt warmth, then registered wetness. Your shin scraped on the asphalt as you were dropped without warning. Trying to open your eyes, you found you couldn’t see. Wiping and blinking away the foreign liquid, you watched your attacker fall to his knees.

Blood was shooting from between his fingers around his own neck, each pulse becoming weaker and weaker, evident through the stream.

When he finally fell over, drained, you were startled to see another man with you. The light reflected off his glasses as he adjusted them, the knife still in his right hand as he did so.

“My, my. What a mess he’s made.” The man smiled down at you, offering a hand. When you didn’t immediately react, he cocked his head to the left, “Is that anyway to treat your rescuer?”

Is that was this was? A rescue? You took his hand with both of yours, pulling yourself up.

Smiles? You blinked away the shock, time to shift into your next part. Damsel. You weren’t out the woods yet.

“You saved my life!” As you pressed yourself into his chest, you tucked your head beneath his chin. You tried to make yourself small. “I owe you! Please let’s go inside, drinks on me!” You looked up, batting your lashes.

“I don’t think that’s wise, dear.” His gaze panned down your dress, soaked through. He could see the thinking behind your eyes.

“No, right….,” You gripped his vest, “We gotta get outta here, fast. There’s a hotel just behind the threatre.” You started to pull his suit jacket off, slipping it over yourself. “No cops, the theatre will get raided. Just— take me somewhere safe?”

You watched him look you over, arm finally extending to let you hook yours with his.

As soon as the hotel door closed behind you, you slipped off his jacket and ran to the dressing table mirror.

Your face was painted red, navy dress now black and sticky. It was good you stayed from view of the reception staff. “I didn’t get my rescuer’s name,” you licked your thumb and rubbed at the blood around your cheeks.

“Alastor. It’s a pleasure.”

You laughed, “Is that what you call a pleasure?” Turning, you pulled the mostly still dry handkerchief from your pocket and dabbed the corner on your tongue. You brought it up to the frame of his glasses and wiped the blood from the metal. “I’d hate to see what you call a bad time.”

Your hand slowed, noticing the way he was looking at you. Typically men’s pupils were blown when they fell on you, but his were constricted. They flitted around your face. His hand took hold of yours, fingers separating the thumb from the handkerchief. He pulled the little square of yellow fabric free with his other hand, allowing him to hold your thumb now by itself.

His lips opened, tongue licking the blood stained finger before placing it directly into his mouth.

Your stared, horrified, as he sucked the digit clean.

His eyes fluttered close, finger popping out of his mouth with a debauched sound. You made no attempt to take back your hand. The realization you may have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire set in.

“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” You tried to sound as in control as possible. Calm. Unwavered. Offered a timid smile.

He chuckled, “You could say that. May I?” His fingers lifted your chin. You didn’t know what he was asking. His soft smile looked downright loving. He smelled so good, notes of something earthy rising above the copper.

You nodded, because part of you wanted to see where it would go. And part of you thought you didn’t have a choice.

As his face came to yours, you instinctually closed your eyes expecting a kiss. But no, instead you felt his tongue wipe across the cut at the corner of your mouth. His breath blanketed your cheek. Then his hand left your chin, the warmth of his body gone entirely.

You opened your eyes to see him at the door, slipping back into his jacket, “I’ll pay for the night.” He tipped his head to you and exited the room back first, eyes locked with yours until the door closed.

You just stood there in the silence left behind. But as if on cue, the adrenaline waned and your knees buckled under you. You were moments from death, now somehow spared. But what had he— Alastor, been doing there? Did he follow you, too? The cat and mouse had been flipped, or perhaps now this was a fox and hound?

Gripping the dressing table, you pulled yourself up and into the view of the mirror again. Face streaked in dried blood save for the one clean spot where your lips met cheek.

You felt like a ghost the next day. It would be nice to tell someone about what happened but, “Hey a man tried to kill me and then another man killed him! Then he licked blood off my face and I let him. It was the most disturbingly erotic thing to happen to me in months!” would get you tossed into a wagon.

“Are you rude or just stupid?” The theatre manager pulled you aside by the arm when you came into rehearsal. “You can’t just disappear like that, people were waiting.”

Your eyes narrowed, “Was… my absence really the most exciting part of the evening? Not the John in the gutter?”

He huffed, “So that’s it? Got a beau?”

“Wait— nothing else happened last night? After I left?”

“This show doesn’t revolve around you. Plenty happened.”

“Excuse me,” you hurried into the back, “And sorry!”

You opened the street access door and looked into the alley. Trash cans neat and tidy, no dead man, nothing strange or telltale.

You ducked back inside. Had Smiles done this? Obviously, actually. No stranger just cleaned up the dead body. If the flatfeet had found him, the club would have been under scrutiny.

Good, you thought, and went about your work.

Rehearsal dragged on. Little details summoning you back to the night before.

“You okay?” Another performer asked, grabbing your hand and inspecting the blood around your cuticles.

“Oh it’s not mine!” You laughed, she laughed, you walked off before she could clarify.

When applying your makeup, you remembered his hands on your face. They were so soft. Definitely a man of means. A brief intrusive thought, the other hands on your face last night.

You pranced on stage, going through the motions of your routine. Even in the empty hall, your eyes wandered to the booth he’d been in. And as you took the stage in earnest later that night you searched the crowd for the glint of his glasses and found nothing shiny nor promising.

Back in the dressing room you took a moment to wonder what the actual fuck you we’re doing. He murdered a man in front of you, why were you hoping to see him again? He had half a mind to kill you next.

But would that really be so bad? Your life was routine, boring even. The only thing keeping your lungs expanding was the applause. Maybe the headlines of your death would cause such an uproar, dancer struck down in her prime, that you could bask in the loving glow all the way from hell.

One way to remain famous, you considered. A dramatic death.

Not that you were famous. You weren’t part of the national circuits. Just your local theatres, a common face and body to the sinners of Louisiana’s most infamous city. But, well, fame is relative. For the scene you were in, you were your own little star.

A shining light. Shimmering. The faint light reflecting off— Blood. For a second you could only remember looking through bloodied, heavy lashes.

“You’ve been so out of it. Trouble in paradise?” Ruth, the curviest of your coworkers and arguably the favorite of the crew, rested her chin on your head. Looking at each other in the mirror, you offered a soft smile.

“I’ll letcha know when I get there.”

She pinched your cheek, “Tommy said you had a new guy. I just figured-,”

“That isn’t,” you clenched your eyes shut, “no, no guy. I just got locked out last night in the alley. The sticky-,” sticky and viscous blood, “back door wouldn’t open up. I didn’t want to come in the front in my slippers so I just hoofed it home.”

She patted your head, “if you say so! Be careful out there though. Dangerous these days.”

An understatement.

You enjoyed the spotlight, but more than that you craved the attention doted on you after. You’d walk through the hall to the bar to adoring looks and free drinks. It bothered you that Tommy was telling the girls you had a man. You didn’t want to appear too closed off, or for word to spread to the customers.

Last thing you needed was men passing you by for more available options. Not that the pay wasn’t fine. Ends were being met, but grifting added an element of thrill. You really did love the chase. Finding someone and deciding he would be yours, he would fall under your spell and be at your feminine mercy. It made you feel powerful, almost mythical. And the money was nice. Sometimes you didn’t even need to steal, the men would just lavish you in gifts and you’d let it fizzle out naturally. Normally their wives would snatch them back or they’d just get tired of waiting for you to leave the stage and dance into their domestic dreams. A housewife? An adopted mother to a grown man during the day, a hungry nymph at night? For what, an allowance and a home you didn’t own? Pass. Where’s that handsome man with his knife? That was a much better steel to fall onto than what these men offered from their laps.

From your view at the bar you knew he wasn’t there. But with a nod you decided the chase was still on. You were going to get your victory. If anything, this would be easier. You had dirt on him. Blackmail would be simple enough. Bloody clothes and the perfect alibi; being a woman. No cop would think you took down that hulking man.

Ah, right. There was no body.

That would be an issue. He had to have taken it somewhere. Just find him and follow. Worst case scenario, you play the usual game and steal whatever cash was in his wallet.

Well, worst case you die.

You slept sitting up to keep your hair set, during the day your makeup barely was there but a red lip always the star. You had three nice dresses (well, you had had four) so you figured three nights to find him before moving on.

You slinked through the crowds of the hot and sweaty dance club Moxie. Swinging music kept bodies moving, and though you kept your eyes open you didn’t catch sight of this Alastor fellow. Which was fine! You enjoyed a few dances, swing always making you feel energized. Not a waste of a Friday night.

Saturday was easy, the lounge on fifth. Smooth jazz, plush chairs, rich men. Definitely a place you could imagine Smiles to frequent. The whisky was all top shelf, and many gentlemen offered you a lap to sit. Sure, no Alastor, but you didn’t go home empty handed.

You weren’t a particularly great singer, but if the room was small enough and the piano loud enough, you could please a crowd. Your friend had you on a semi-set schedule most Sundays at her little dive too many blocks from Main Street. Her darling played piano, you sat and sang to the couple dozen patrons stuffed into the one room bar. When you finished your set, you took your bows and looked for your friend. You needed to tell her you wouldn’t be staying.

Your polite nods and gracious thank yous were abruptly ended by a tap on your shoulder, “You dropped this, miss.” You did a mental check of your purse before turning around.

“Oh, a sight for sore eyes. Mr. Alastor.” Your face lit up, you could see it in his glasses.

“You’re too kind. Here, I apologize for the delay. I wanted to return them clean.” In his hand was your yellow handkerchief, folded neatly. You took it and found it uncharacteristically heavy.

When you unfurled it, your brass lighter fell into your waiting palm. Your thumb caressed the engraving.

Alastor watched your face as the lighter tumbled out. “I figured it was important, given the condition and detailing.”

You tested the weight in your hand, “Did you fill it?” You looked to him incredulously. He nodded.

It was a surprisingly kind act, and you needed a second to regain your composure. “I don’t know how to thank you.” Your quick wit failed for a moment, but rebounded fast. “Except with a drink. My treat. To my rescuer.”

He mulled the idea, your reaction to him was interesting. Alastor had thought if he approached you first you’d show a little more fear, or shock. But you looked downright chipper to see him there.

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time tonight. I had just wanted to return your items.”

Your smile dropped. How did he know you were here? Had he been carrying— no, he said he had them cleaned. Had he seen you here before, before the incident? A chuckle, smile brought back, “My luck is terrible. You always flee me. I hope you don’t see my company as deadweight.”

Alastor’s smile twitched, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, “Not at all! I think you’d find I’m quite comfortable with-.”

“Lugging people around?” You said. That constricted pupil again, eyes wild. A chill ran down your spine. Alarms were going off. Wrong answer. You straightened your back, popping the items into your purse, “Next time.”

Alastor nodded, “Yes. Next time, then.”

You fucked it up. You knew you had, but suddenly his words felt like a thinly veiled threat.

You turned to leave and hadn’t seen his smile sour.

It hadn’t been a threat. He hadn’t anticipated you to notice the implication. Most people would have been so blinded by his charm they would fail to notice the glaring red flags. He was mildly impressed. You would be more trouble than he had expected.

Alastor knew he needed to do something about the clearly clever woman who was seemingly expecting him. He had followed you for several days, surprised to find you not spreading word about the murder. You hadn’t spoken to anyone, really. Even the man you left the lounge with, you just smiled and nodded nearly all evening while the man dominated the conversation. So, your sharp wit took him off guard. Who were you pretending to be? And why?

All of your cleverness fell apart when you tried to follow him. It was almost comical. He felt bad. This was going to be embarrassing for you.

He took several right turns and stepped into the park just outside of the bar. You thought perhaps he had gotten lost and considered turning around after you realized you’d lost sight of him. As you passed a large weeping willow, you were pulled under the curtains of hanging moss by your waist.

Back against the large tree, you could only pout.

“What are you after, stalking a man in the dead of night?” Alastor had you pinned, both hands on either side of your head. His body boxed you in, not that there was much more to see than moss and darkness.

You blinked several times. What a question. You answered honestly, “You.” He cocked a brow. Then you lied, “Your affection. Your time.”

Something akin to a giggle bubbled from his chest. “I don’t have much affection, but I have even less time.” Your eyes darted around, looking for your next move. “I-,” you grabbed him by the face and kissed him. When you broke the kiss he was staring wide eyed, glasses askew. He opened his mouth to speak and you kissed him again, longer, harder.

He seemed frozen under your mouth, lips taut. Your hands roamed his face, messing up his hair and glasses. Mind reeling. Play the nymph. Be the whore the men always said they hated. Be too strong, too forward, too much and he’ll run off like men do. You could try again another day.

Your hand reached for his lap, his hips instinctively jerking away. Perfect. Men these days can’t get it up for a woman who takes the lead.

Alastor was entirely unsure what the fuck was happening. You were wildly unpredictable. When you grabbed at his dick, he thought his eyes would cross from the shock. Is this what ‘affection’ meant to you? He couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand you. Were you really just lustful? Even after what you’d seen him—

You bit at his bottom lip, pulling slightly. Big eyes looking back at him. Your breath was already running away from you, adrenaline seemingly synonymous with Alastor. Staring up at him, you waited. His move.

It was his turn to blink. He looked off to his left, eyes swinging back to you. With a shrug, he leaned his body back towards yours. His hand slid down the front of your dress; red silk. A deer in the headlights, you tensed. The rare third option; fight, flight, freeze. Soon his fingers were tracing the lace of your stockings, climbing up the garter straps.

His eyes were studying your face. You didn’t want to give the wrong answer again, but at this point you weren’t sure any answer was right. This was taking a sudden turn and your foot was off the brake. You closed your eyes, opting out of the scrutiny of his stare. His hand met your stomach and began to slip down again. He rested it between your thighs, longer fingers and palm cupping the entirety of your sex.

Alastor struggled to decipher your expression. It was almost like a pout, but more subtle. You hadn’t said stop or pushed him away yet. Was he right? You were just… horny? As his hand slid back up and pried their way into your panties, you trembled.

It had been so long since someone else’s hand was on you. Someone whose hands you genuinely enjoyed, who you wanted to be on you.

Is that right? You wanted him to touch you?

Maybe it was the stare, or the smile. Probably just the adrenaline.

His hand found its place again, middle finger bending to part your folds and feel your wetness. You whimpered, hand coming to cover your own mouth.

“Is this what you wanted?” He said it low, a husky tone he didn’t have before.

No. Maybe. You nodded yes.

“Will you be satisfied now? No more tailing me?”

No. Probably not. Another nod.

His finger pushed in, and with a kind of greed you didn't recognize your hips ground down into his palm. He slipped in and out of you with ease. You had no idea when or why you got so wet.

“I always end up dripping around you, Alastor,” you whispered through your fingers. His ring finger joined. Why couldn’t you shut up? Why did you have to bring up, well, the murder?

“A common problem for those I take an interest in.”

Oh no. You moaned softly into your hand. Sharp mind made dull by his fingers so you didn’t, couldn’t, process his double meaning.

Oh no. The sounds of footsteps, a pair of lovers sneaking into the park for privacy. You heard their giggles, the sounds of kisses interrupting their walking.

“Shhh”, he breathed into your ear as he worked a third finger into your heat. One knuckle, two knuckles. A whimper. His hand came to press down over your own on your mouth, a second barrier for your mewling. You groaned, the sound coming from your throat.

Whispers. The silhouette of the two interlopers was visible through the willow’s curtains. You watched from over his shoulder, pussy clenching around him. Three knuckles deep, bottoming out.

Fuck it. You moaned freely into your hand, wiggling down onto his hand. Hips rolling, you let your little sounds of praise flow.

The couple laughed, “That’s the spirit!” A man said, a woman hushing him and pulling him away.

Alastor grinned into your neck, immensely amused. He would have better luck predicting a dice roll than your next move.

You hadn’t realized how hollow you’d been until now, feeling so full. When alone, you focused on just cumming, fingers on your clit and mind on memories. You never bothered much with anything else.

Your hunger intensified. You wanted more. Both hands reached for his crotch again, finding nothing there for you. You could have cried. How were you a wet mess pressed against a tree and he was soft as a newspaper in a rainstorm?

Your pride stung. Men usually stood at attention around you. A half sob into the air earned you a chuckle from Alastor. “It’s no reflection of you, darling.” His nose nudged your ear lobe, “I need a little different stimulation than most.”

“Do you play for the other team?” You considered how you could momentarily switch.

A louder laugh, “I don’t have a team.” He leaned back now to look at you. His freehand came to press on your lower stomach, gently pushing your womb down. Your brows knit, why did that feel so good? Hands going to the tree behind you for stability.

“Sure feels like you know how to play. This is-,” his hand switched from thrusting slowly in and out to moving front and back. It sent vibrations up into you. Your eyes rolled close. Shut up. Stop talking. Focus. Close.

He kissed around your open mouth, “Well, it’d be unamerican to not dabble. When necessary, or when the conditions are right.”

Double speak over, “Just tell me what to do to get you to fuck me.”

Alastor’s head fell back as he laughed earnestly, most likely alerting anyone in the immediate area. “Ha! No, this is more fun.”

“Oh fuck you,” you brought a hand around to your throbbing clit to quicken your release.

“Maybe next time, dear.” He took a second, fingers in you sliding around your walls in search of something before finding his place and continuing. Your breath noticeably changed, instead of panting you were practically holding it in. You needed the pressure, you needed something to squeeze that spring of pleasure down so it could snap back. As your face went flush, he kissed at your temple, “You look so pretty in red.”

“Oh god-,” Your head fell onto his chest, your joint effort bringing you to orgasm.

“A little late on Sunday for prayers, don't you think?”

A tiny scream into his suit pocket, his hand not stopping until your thighs finished twitching around him. Even after his hand stopped moving you gripped him by the wrist and rolled onto his fingers a few more times. The pleasure ebbing but still spiking every time he moved against you.

Ah, greed. That was it. He understood a little better. This wasn’t lust, not alone. You were definitely a mix of the two. With a sigh, you released your hold and let him slide out of you. Already you felt lonelier. Already you wished to start over.

With his dry hand he smoothed out your dress. You weren’t ashamed but you suddenly felt too embarrassed to look him the eye. But you did, hearing him hum as he sucked his fingers clean.

Why were you only ever in his mouth in the strangest ways?

“You always taste so sweet, dear. Now!” You wanted to say something clever and salacious like, ‘there’s more where that came from’ but he didn’t afford you the opportunity. He offered you his hooked arm, “It’s dangerous in the park at night. Let’s get you to a cab and on your way home.”

“Is this a hobby of yours?” Your legs were wobbly but otherwise fine. “Illegal activities in public?”

“Funny, I was just wondering the same of you. Stalking is a crime, dear.”

You bit your lip. “Touché.”

He flagged down a taxi, “Tell him where to go.” You slid into the back seat and half-whispered to the driver. Alastor leaned into the passenger side front window and after paying the man, went to close your door, “You’ve been an entertaining sparring partner. Goodbye, sweetheart.”

With a thud of the door and a growl of the engine, you were driving away from him. You could see him in the rear window. He didn’t dare to move, he didn’t need you following another step of his.

Which was unfortunate for him, as you were already scheming how to find him again.

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @angelicwillows

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

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kinq-sleazee · 5 months ago

Text

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ﾟ。 watashi wa star ✧₊⁺

　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

18+ | public sex , cockwarming, degradation, idol!sukuna, pop star! reader

♪ ༘⋆ i get money i’m a star, star, star, star …♪ ༘⋆

Sukuna whose mind was set on fucking you from the very beginning. From the time he’d heard that you were considering him, alone, as a feature for your breakout single. His dick was hard. The thought of you spreading your cute little cunt with those bubble gum pink nails for him was scintillating.

Long before the song was even recorded —when the label execs were still trying to hash out the finer details of your contract. He saw that fiery look in your eye when the label pleaded for you to reconsider. Literally begging you to choose the more appropriate twin—the one that complimented your core audience better. But you held firm , defiant as you locked eyes with him.

“That’s the point. I’m done with this goodie two shoes image! Fuck what Uraume says, I can be bad too !”

Sukuna really appreciated your dedication. Seeing you unlock your inner vixen during the video shoot was delicious. The way your scantily clad body twirled and whined around him. He loved how your pebbling nipples stretched the fabric of that cute little number. The way you crawled between his legs and rested your cheek on his thigh. He could how perfect you’d look with his dick stuffed down your throat—drool and his cum running down your chest as he continued to fuck into toy. Especially the little sounds you made when his hand “slipped” into less than appropriate places during your routine. His hands had a mind of their own. So if you were going to put your ass in his face. Who was he not to oblige ?

It had to look authentic right ?

And your hard work actually paid off because by then end of things you’d definitely convinced Sukuna that you’d love to fuck yourself stupid on his cock!

However the media wasn’t convinced.

Cringe

Trying too hard.

She’s finished. Hate that for her.

Why didn’t she choose Yuuji ?

The media reception to your upcoming project was less than stellar. That’s why Sukuna suggested a club appearance. A PR stunt like this could gather excitement and you might have some fun at the same time!

That’s why you were sitting in Sukuna’s section, perched on his lap, while he and his entourage threw bills and popped bottles in front of hundreds of adoring fans. Everyone was laughing and having a good time. Everyone except you. That’s because you were too busy trying to ignore the throbbing cock nestled in your womb.

“You should really loosen up, sweetheart. People are watching. Wouldn’t want them finding out , hmm ?”

The sound of his husky voice in your ear sends shockwaves to your pussy. You whine, walls clenching tightly around the man. He chuckles darkly before your rewarded with a subtle roll of his hips.

“Damn, baby. It’s almost like you want to get caught. You that desperate to prove you’re not a good little girl?”

The hand under your pleated mini skirt grips your thighs harshly. Blunt nails scrape at the skin. A sultry whine drawn out from the action. His other hand glides over your breast to slot against your throat. He squeezes lightly , leaning you against his chest as he turns your face towards his.

You open your mouth to respond but find your voice caught in your throat. Pure lust swirls in his scarlet irises. Heat starts to pool in your abdomen and you find yourself squirming against him. He’s been stretching you so good for so long. You just can’t him yourself. You want more.

Need it.

“N-need you , ryo”

Your voice is wrecked. It’s the best he’s ever heard you sound. Record that shit and you’d probably win a Grammy.

“Tch” Sukuna rolls his eyes, smirking at your pitiful state. “Since you don’t wanna be good for me, then I’ll guess I teach you what happens to brats”.

#♛♚|the king speaks #it had to be done #my man my man my man #sorry not even remotely sorry #still not back but this needed to be shared #jjk x black reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna x black reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk smut

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brairslair · 10 months ago

Note

your monster trio nsfw headcanons were immaculate (seriously Zoro's was PERFECTION) could you do the same for Law and Ace?

@valkyrie-sun-walker

yes ofc! and thank youuu 💓💓 i got the 2nd req from a wonderful anon after i started writing this, so i decided to combine the two! here ya go mls :)

part 2 to this post

18+ ONLY (minors… 👉🏻🚪)

a/n: just me lusting over these men so ofc they’re all yappers, + i apologize to any usopp enjoyers for making usopp’s section a lil shorter 💌

don’t forget to like, comment, reblog, and follow to support my work!

“see what you do to me?”

law:

tough guy syndrome TM

puts on a cold front, but will wear flowers in his hair if you pick them for him

the kinda guy who can dish it out but can’t take it

in every sense

he can say the most flirtatious, descriptive, borderline pornographic shit to you with a smirk on his face

but the second you return the same attitude, he gets all flustered and fumbles over his words

he acts all dominant and in control when he’s making your eyes roll into the back of your head, whispering the filthiest shit in your ear

he takes great pride in his affect on you

“feels good, yeah?”

but when you take the reigns, he literally turns into a puddle at your fingertips

- “cat got your tongue?”

“shut up-”

clearly a switch

specifically a bratty sub + mean dom switch

so basically just a little bitch 24/7

when he’s a mean dom tho, he is a fucking mean dom

he’ll edge you until your crying from frustration, and then make you cum over and over until you lose count

“honey, are those tears? it’s just too much for you, isn’t it”

“you wanna be a good little slut for me, don’t you? then hold it.”

“count down from ten, nice and slow, and don’t you dare fucking cum until you get to one”

has a choking kink (giving and receiving)

also really likes to use toys on you, or watch you use them yourself

his favorite tho is your wand vibrator

he’ll hold it against your clit until you’ve cum so many times you’ve lost track, and you’re eyes are watering from overstimulation

or he’ll push it against you while he thrusts into you at a brutal pace, making you feel so much pleasure all at once that you see white behind your eyelids

he’s not a huge fan of pda, unless he’s jealous, and then he’s got you pressed against a wall with his tongue down your throat

if you get needy while he’s busy, he’ll make you ride his thigh

he’ll continue on with his work, acting as if you aren’t even there soaking through his jeans

his gentle hand on your hip, dick already hard against your knee, and a soft “good job, baby” when you cum are the only indicators that he was paying attention at all

get’s rly cocky when he catches u staring at his chest/back/tattoos

even worse when it’s his hands

will 100% use it against you to tease you all the time

will put his hands on your waist/thigh if he catches you looking for too long in public

then later he’ll make you come on his fingers and keep his mouth running the whole time

“bet this is what you were thinking about, huh. staring at my my fingers all day? couldn’t help it, could you?”

“oh, you can take more than that. cmon, one more”

“awh baby, i can feel you squeezin me already. you wanna cum so bad, don’t you sweetheart? not yet.”

he’ll get you right to the edge just to slow down to an agonizing pace and then make you beg him to let you cum

then he’ll have you suck his fingers clean

he’s a menace

but he’s also really good at aftercare, and will tell you how well you did and make you feel so loved and relaxed

now, as a bratty sub…

he is such a pain in the ass

he knows every way to get under your skin and get you exactly where he wants you

when you’re kissing him he’ll fight you for dominance even though he’s clearly losing

makes sassy ass comments whenever you speak just to piss you off

he could literally already be doing something but refuse if you tell him to

- “take off your pants”

“say please”

even when he admits defeat, he’ll continue to run his mouth for as long as possible before his brain turns to mush

if you use your mouth on him, it’s over

he’ll go from being a brat, to gripping the sheets in seconds

once you shut his brain off, he’s a total mess

his hands and mouth sloppy and all over you

when you ride him, he can’t take his eyes off of where your bodies meet, groaning at the wet sounds of your slick with every bounce

when he does look up at you he almost busts as soon as he sees your proud smile and blown out eyes looking down at him

his moans are loud and gravelly, and he’s desperately gripping at your hips, and whining, and cursing, and panting in your ear

the only words he seems to remember are “fuck” and your name

he loves it when your mean

- “you don’t get to touch unless you ask nicely. go on.”

“oh fuck- please”

also low key a sucker for light bondage (both ways)

acts like he doesn’t like when you mark him up because he doesn’t want other people to see, but it’s actually because every time he see’s your work on his skin he wants to pounce on you

and he can’t have that 24/7 now can he (i wish tho tbh)

will bite on your shoulder when you finally let him cum, leaving dainty little tooth shaped bruises behind like a medal

and of course, a few minutes after he comes down from his high, he goes right back to being a little shit

ace:

such a cocky motherfucker

but in a cute endearing way

also allergic to shirts apparently, and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t to show off for you at least a little

but he get’s all proud when he notices you ogling him

he’d say somthing goofy like

“like what you see?”

while wiggling his eyebrows

he is a messy kisser

like super sloppy

he just can’t get over how lucky he is to even be able to have your company, or be able to touch you at all, so getting to kiss you blows his mind a little and makes it short circut

soft dommmm

ace just wants to take care of you

he loves to slowly make you fall apart over and over, being there to be your anchor

but he’s also super talkative

“that’s it, princess. keep making those pretty noises for me, yeah?”

“just like that, keep going. doing such a good job”

“just a little more baby, you can take it”

loves eating you out, and he’s good at it

he likes to hold your hips down with one arm, and use his other hand to stretch you open

goes insane if you pull his hair

will put your legs over his shoulders

both a tits and ass guy

will bury his face in either and be perfectly content if he suffocates

he’s always kissing some part of you, wether its your lips, your neck, your thighs, your wrists, doesn’t matter because his mouth is on you

absolutely loves hearing your sounds, especially if you’re whimpering and whining

hearing you be so needy all for him drives him up the wall

kind of a dumbass sometimes, but can surprisingly lead to amazing sex sometimes

doesn’t realize how everyone ogles him wherever he goes

and he certainly doesn’t realize when other girls are throwing themselves at him

you know he doesn’t intentionally engage, but it’s still hard to not feel jealous watching the interactions

but when he notices you’re jealous… oh boy

he gets SO cocky (like more obnoxious than usual)

“awh, baby, are you jealous?”

“you know i only have eye’s for you”

“want me to prove it?”

and he will

he’d bring your hand to his dick, allowing you to feel how hard he is already

“see what you do to me?”

“this is all yours, baby”

“i’m alllll yours”

and then he’d proceed to fuck you until your legs are shaking, heat burning in your chest from overstimulation

but he makes sure to reassure you that he didn’t even notice the other girls intentions, because the only girl that he cares about is you <3

he’s not the jealous type himself, because he knows there’s no need to be

he trusts you, and he believes you when you tell him how much you love him

however, he does not trust other people

therefore, he is extremely protective of you

he’s honestly into pda

he just loves showing you off any chance he gets

one thing about ace is he will talk you through it

and he’ll hold your hand the whole time too

“yeahhh, there you go, princess”

“mm, there’s my girl”

“go on baby, soak me”

does the tummy push thing

also does the knee thing

goes feral if he sees you in any of his clothes

especially his hat

this is a “save a horse ride a cowboy” relationship

loves to put his weight on you, still being careful not to squish you

he just wants to be as close to you as humanly possible

and he’ll pin your hand’s above your head with one of his, interlacing your fingers

gets super giddy and proud when he fucks you dumb

“look at you, all pretty and fucked out”

“lettin me fuck you dumb, huh? lettin me fuck your brains out?”

“fuck, you can’t even think anymore, can you? feel too good to think, huh pretty girl”

he’s a biter and will sometimes leave marks, but he is not sorry

temperature play perhaps

is a fan of cockwarming

im also an avid believer in gamer bf ace

so he’ll have you just sit on his dick while he’s gaming, feeling you pulse and twitch around him in restraint

every once in a while he’d move his hips just enough to make you gasp, but then back to nothing

if you do move your hips he holds them still, reminding you of your agreement

he’ll make you sit there, almost completely still until you’re pleading and whimpering for him to let you move

“go ahead, pretty girl”

“take what you need”

he will buy you lingerie, and he will lose his mind every time he sees you in something he bought for you

face sitting enthusiast

will say “i love you” during sex at least once

will also probably quote an action movie while balls deep inside of you and completely brush past it like it was nothing

no matter what pace is set, he fucks hard

he’ll lift your legs from around his hips to push them against your chest, because the angle feels so much deeper

he’ll gradually build up speed, just to slow back down when either of you gets too close, to make it last longer

this will go on until you’re begging

“shh, hey, it’s okay baby, i’ve got you”

“just let it build with me, hm? we have all the time in the world”

“promise it’ll feel sooo good”

and when you’ve both evened out your breathing, he smothers you with affection and makes sure to take good care of you

usopp:

he’s a sub, full stop.

tried to dom at first, but it was just not natural to him at all

still will try to act all tough and in control, but he’s in the palm of your hand in seconds every time

more than willing to do anything you ask of him

gets flustered SO easily

will become a total mess from the smallest things

he gets defensive when you tease him, but he secretly really enjoys it

thigh guy

face sitting fan #2

loves kissing you and would do it all day every day if he could

any amount of pleasure you give him will turn him into a babbling mess

he’ll just say anything honestly

“hmm- feels so good”

“pleasepleaseplease-”

“can i kiss you? please let me kiss you-”

little bit of a mommy kink but embarrassed about it

suuuuper reactive

was 100% a virgin before you, so you have to help guide him in the beginning

you also help him discover what he likes and dislikes

he has a massive praise kink

“good boy” has him panting and fisting the sheets

he also really likes your hands

the way you hold his jaw so firmly when you kiss him

or gently squeeze his shaft when you tease him through his boxers

and even how you press your thumb past his lips to stifle his noises as you make him cum in your fist

his moans are whiny and a soft, getting lost in the pleasure

“ohhh- wow”

once his brain is long gone, he honestly doesn’t talk much until he’s getting close

thats when the incoherent stuttering starts back up again

“you’re so- ahh- so good at that”

“don’t stop, don’t stop-”

“i think i’m gonna… i’m cumming”

when he does cum, he’s either whining your name like a broken record, or so fucked out all he can do is pant and gasp and paw at your skin

he’s also a crier when he gets overstimulated

always polite and says thank you <3

asks are open! <3

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fangswbenefits · 2 years ago

Text

Solution

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Period cramps always leave you feeling miserable, so Miguel offers a solution.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Suggestive. Implied breeding kink. Some fluff.

It was the familiar jab in your lower abdomen that rose you from your sleep. You immediately tensed up against Miguel’s firm chest, rousing him from his slumber at once.

“You okay?”

“Yeah… just some cramps,” you whispered as the arm he had around your waist tightened into a reassuring embrace.

Miguel was a very attentive partner. Your Miguel always made sure you knew you always came first. In every sense of the word, too.

He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck. “How bad is it?”

“Want to switch places and find out?” you said with a chuckle.

“Hard pass,” he said, pulling his other arm from under your neck and shifting on the mattress until he was slightly hovering you. “How can I help?”

Intense eyes and disheveled hair caught your attention and you got lost in that immersive gaze of his.

“It’s fine,” you whispered, caressing his face. “I’ll take something later on.”

Miguel lowered his face to place a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek, jaw…

“Someone’s feeling soft today,” you giggled as he trailed kisses down your neck.

Those felt intimate and caring, not lust driven in the slightest. A silent and effective reminder that you had all of his attention. Even though, his kisses could not bring direct comfort to the problem at hand, they were a much appreciated distraction.

Miguel broad frame was now fully on top of you as he worked his way down your body, offering comfort and goosebumps.

“I think I have a solution,” he whispered.

“Oh?”

He dragged the fabric of your shirt up, resting it just below your heaving breasts before resuming his display of affection. The mixture of his breaths fanning your exposed skin and soft kisses prompted a tickling sensation.

“Miguel?” you chuckled, squirming under his touch. “What’s your solution?”

His lips settled for the spot just below your navel and on your lower abdomen, eyes squeezed shut as if he was pondering his words.

You propped yourself onto your elbows to fully take in the view of your adoring boyfriend.

A few more pecks.

Your legs writhed under him. “That tickles!”

He held you in place quite effectively, both hands resting on your hips. “We could get rid of this for a couple of months.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”

He nodded, rubbing both thumbs in circular motion as he pressed his lips against your skin. He hummed softly in between kisses.

“What do you me — oh!”

The implication in his vague words and gestures suddenly hit you.

“If you let me…” he went on, tracing the hem of your panties with determined lips. “… it’s about time we get rid of these awful…” he pressed a kiss. “… annoying…” another one “… terrible cramps.”

It should have come as a surprise, but Miguel had never been subtle about wanting to get you pregnant.

“You want to knock me up, so I can get rid of these cramps?” you asked with a smile.

His thumbs dug deeper into your skin, turning the added pressure into a satisfying one.

“It’s a fair trade, right?”

He settled between your legs and eyed you expectantly.

“What’s in it for you?”

“I get to see you bearing my child,” he said, bringing his lips up again to circle your navel. “Just say the word…”

You couldn’t hold back another chuckle. “Can I get a massage first?”

“You can have anything you want.”

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x fem!reader

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oukabarsburgblr · 8 months ago

Note

hii!! this is so embarassing to ask because i never do this,, but by any chance do you have plans on making a continuation of the ybc x male reader fic? i enjoyed it like SO MUCH 🥹 i'd like to know more of reader's relationship with the characters, especially some of them who seems to be into him (akemi, kashima, tamura, toono? etcetc) 👉👈 more smut would be appreciated too heheh love to see the reader getting manhandled and all 🤭 thank you for your hard work by the way!! big fan of your works 💖💖

drabble...aftermath of YBC

FEATURING : AKEMI, TAMURA, KASHIMA, TOONO x male reader

Pls dont be embarassed to flood my inbox hahaha. i feel like my work is appreciated when they do. Thank you for reading my posts! I dont intend to continue on YBC since the manga itself is unfinished and i prioritise the plot of the original manga. Although i did promise a small fic somewhere in my old comments so heres a snack 🌭

Spanking, filming, talking, dubcon, small smut (not as much as the previous one)

(m/n) liked to believe that his life would continue as normal after that. Maybe he shouldn't really put his trust in those perverts. Akemi out of all people.

"Look here, (m/n)-chan~"

The blonde cooed, pulling the (h/c)'s face up to look at the camera in front of them. (m/n) only drooled, his body limp on the singular bed with Akemi humping his ass in the blonde's room.

The day before, was the revolutionary gangbang and (m/n) passed out, too tired to even clean himself but he awoke in the president's room. His body was cleaned and expected his lower half ached but he didn't expect the blonde to climb on top of him asking for seconds.

"Ahn! You're so- mmmff cute, (m/n)!" Akemi mewled, pounding his dick into the (h/c)'s ass, who was on his knees, his teary-eyed cock-drunk face facing the camera, giving his best lewd face with the bed creaking underneath them.

Akemi proposed for a video, wanting a memento of their special moment, albeit (m/n) was no longer a virgin, he reassured (m/n) that he was still as sensitive as one.

"Mmmn ughh unh-" (m/n)'s breath hitched, he fisted the sheets underneath him as his sore hole leaked lube and twitched every time Akemi thrusted his dick in. He was not sober, still drowsy from yesterday's pounding session but he let the blonde ravaged him, too tired to resist, and it was a win for him too.

Pushing his hips back, (m/n) weakly tried to fuck himself on the blonde too, the president laughing and kissing his back with encouragement. "You really are the best. Even better than us Yaribu!" Akemi licked and bit his neck, drawing out whimpers from the (h/c).

Akemi pulled out and quickly finished himself on (m/n)'s ass, making sure the camera caught view of his cum smeared all over the (h/c)'s bottom and dripping down his back. (m/n) whined, he wanted another round as Akemi leaned forward to grab the phone, pulling (m/n) up and shoving it in his face.

"Say 'not a virgin'~" (m/n) did not say it, only frowning and smacking the laughing blonde who delved into the former's previous request, making sure he recorded every single orgasm (m/n) achieved, his camera lens capturing his squirting cum-filled hole.

Tamura was a bit nicer to (m/n) when it comes to sex. Although his mouth was foul, he was a cooperating person in intimacy. They were friends, maybe. But the (h/c) wished the fucker would shut up at times.

"Come on, senpai. Pretty sure you can go faster than that!"

They would fuck if they had run into each other, if his vice-captain wasn't by his side, of course. Tamura sloppily making out with (m/n) as they stumble somewhere private to satiate their lust, in this case, the janitor's closet.

(m/n) had tears slipping down his chin, whines from his throat as he rode the blue-haired second year. His knees scratched against the wooden floor, his ass slapping on top of Tamura's thighs and his anus swallowing the latter's veiny cock.

"Ahn ahn ahh ah! Mmff- I'm gonna cum! C-Cumming- soon-" (m/n) squealed as he squirted out ropes of cum onto Tamura's abs, his hole clenching around the latter who quickly thrusted up into the squirming third year. "Who knew you had this side of you!"

The second year kissed (m/n), his tongue shoved down the latter's throat before pulling out to mock him again. "You have such a neat face and a polite facade. You're the perfect slut!"

Slapping Tamura, (m/n) hissed in pain as the second year dug his nails into his waist. "Fuck you." Tamura licked his lips in excitement. "I like you." He purred, aroused at getting cursed at.

Kashima was the sweetest. In sex and in person.

"(m/n)-senpai!" The first year ran to him, catching up at the other end of a hallway. "How are you today?"

He grinned and would suck up to the volleyball captain, wanting his attention from his other crush. Kashima would often try to run into the third year, crossing paths in the upperclass' hallways or passing by the volleyball gym. It was cute, to say the most, Kashima's little crush that is.

It wasn't so little when he was in other positions.

"(m/n)-senpai urmmff! I like you! Ngh mmngg-" Kashima held up (m/n) against the shower room, the (h/c) pulling him in when there was no one and they slobbered over each other, tearing clothes off and the first year was so passionate with him.

But (m/n) knew his mind would drift elsewhere. Toono, to be exact.

(m/n) panted, his arms around the ravenette's neck, his legs locking around Kashima's torso who was pounding his hips into (m/n)'s against the cold and wet wall. His eyes lulled back into his skull at Kashima's rough thrusts.

He knew there was something going on between Kashima and Toono, he saw it during the end of the gangbang. And he had no plans to interfere, only indulging in Kashima's affections for him as he doted on his kind kouhai.

Toono was still embarrassed to face the third year, hiding away every time their eyes clashed and jumping into bushes if the (h/c) so happened to be walking by. It was annoying and amusing to the third year, the reaper who had brought him to the Yaribu's room.

But it was getting tired to see him running away.

"Stop being so scared of me."

(m/n) confronted the brunette, who cornered himself in the library when the (h/c) had only wanted to grab a book for his upcoming studies. Toono nodded wildly, agreeing with the third year. "Y-Yes! Of course, senpai!"

The (h/c) rolled his eyes. "I told you, I'm fine. It wasn't that bad, it was fun too!" "FUN???" (m/n) pressed his lips into a thin line. "Duh. It's a gangbang." "B-But, we're guys so-"

The captain grabbed his face and smacked their lips together, wanting to shut up the stammering brunnette. It wasn't the most morally correct action but it felt right and Toono wouldn't shut up about his oh so heterosexual-ness.

Toono was stiff at first before he began to melt into the kiss, his hands shaking as he gripped onto (m/n)'s shirt. The (h/c) pulled away, gazing down at the blushing first year. "You should stop talking about 'we're all men' stuff, okay? It's repetitive and a fib."

The brunette only nodded, in awe of the third year. (m/n) promptly left the starstruck Toono, as he ushered himself out of the library with a satisfied huff.

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

Afterthoughts :

The anime left out so many things in the manga i just speedrunned an hour ago. Like they did NOT look like twinks. I could not find a future with Shikatani, Itome, Yaguchi, Jimmy and Yuri for this specific scenario, like they would not gaf, especially Itome who would definitely plan to murder (m/n) at one point.

With said, I would not be writing for YBC (except for that one user rq i forgot the username to) not until Kashima and Toono finally get together properly. I LURVE KASHIMA ARGH.

Sorry for those who's seen the cropped out fic for this and im aware i did not put my 100% for this mess. I dont think i can write properly any time soon and I just realised I'm terrible with requests haha. Think im gonna focus on my ocs more. Had so much fun with those aus.

BONUS :

Daisuke grasped his captain's face, licking (m/n)'s lips as they stumbled onto the desk of the empty classroom. "I can't stand it. Seeing you with them." The (h/c) felt shivers run down his spine as Daisuke pulled his uniform off. "It just happens. Thought nothing would change."

(m/n) gasped out, his body lying on the table as Daisuke pressed himself on top of the (h/c), his heart racing and his hands shaking. "I was furious. Furious at them for harassing you. But I never thought you'd go to them." "People are making a big fuss out of my virginity. It's just sex- mmff!"

The (h/c) covered his mouth as Daisuke shoved his hand into his pants, fondling and pressing his crotch. "You are everything to me, (m/n). Everything I could ever wish for." Daisuke kissed his captain's neck, pulling off his own shirt.

"You are the pinnacle of my sins and greed."

(m/n) felt his heart was beating so fast, his hands groping the ravenette's chest as he opened his legs further, helping Daisuke shuffle his pants off. "Should've told me sooner." He mumbled, licking and biting Daisuke's neck.

"I was waiting for you first." Daisuke snapped back, pulling (m/n)'s face and shoving his tongue against the latter's, making out passionately, drool slipping out from the corner of their mouths.

"It's my fault then?" The captain teased, his mind getting hotter as he bucked his hips against Daisuke's. "No. I could never blame you. It's those stupid perverts."

(m/n) laughed as he cupped the pouting ravenette's cheeks. "You have no one to blame but yourself." He winked at his vice-captain. "Then let me make up to you." Daisuke grinned, his body pressing more against the twitching (h/c), only the evening sun baring witness to their ludicrous confessions.

TAGLIST :

@tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld

The difference in quality w my oc and the ybc members???? I failed you all💀 ill edit it properly

#bottom male reader #sub male reader #x male reader #male reader #male reader smut #ybc x male reader #ybc #yarichin b club #yarichin bitch club x reader #yarichin bitch club

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 6 months ago

Text

For those who were fans of the original Mirror, Mirror short… How about another?

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the hungest one of all..."

Josiah walked into the locker room for probably the tenth time that day. He had no idea why one of the managers thought this stupid mirror inscription would be a good addition to the atmosphere at the gym. He could swear the extra cocky and dumb fuckboys walking around today were somehow summoned by the new inscription. Well, Josiah didn’t necessarily believe there was a direct correlation, but he did subscribe to the idea that you invite into your space the energy that you want.

That easygoing and positive demeanor made him one of the more popular trainers at the gym. Sure, he had a good physique, but it was because he cared for his body and health, and he thrived at the gym, teaching those guiding principles to others. On the other hand, staring at the latest patron’s use of the new mirror provoked his principles, reviving the reconsideration of his role in the toxifying workplace again.

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the hungest one of all? It’s the epitome of envy and pride. Whoever wrote this has an ailing mind.”

Josiah turned to go, except…

He could swear the peripheral glance he’d caught in the mirror displayed a more noticeable bulge…

He turned back to alleviate the paranoia permeating his psyche… but it really did seem bigger. Josiah stepped closer, grabbing the protrusion in his shorts. He smiled as his hand groped the shaft beneath the fabric. He may not be the hungest—as the sign said—but he was definitely big. It’s the reason why he was popular at the gym—people thought he was all positive and zen, but he just looked good, and his dick was big enough that he never worried about jealousy. When you pack the member and muscle he had, it’s easy to keep envy at bay. Josiah’s training conduct centered on modeling the confidence a good body can get you. When you work hard and earn your ideal image, it’s not conceited to show off—it’s just the love you deserve to claim from yourself and your peers.

But Josiah knew as he looked in the mirror that as hard as his clients tried, they could never be him. He wasn’t just a model; he was a paragon. The clients who took him seriously—those bros could build muscle, grow broader, tone, and define and sculpt until they earn the bravado they’ve always had but never justified. But those same jocks could never pull the client base he had because they’d never had his gargantuan cock. Josiah was not at the gym to help improve lives; he was the main attraction. People paid money to be in his presence while he worked up a sweat to get a close-up look at his mythic bulge. Sometimes, in public, he’d catch a judging glance, or a “good Christian woman” would comment on his brashness, but even if he wanted to hide it, his shaft couldn’t be contained. No, instead, he was used to seeing the looks of envy, desire, lust, and hunger fall across the face of anyone he brushed past.

Josiah loved to pose and flex and flaunt in front of a mirror, but he had a gym floor to dominate. He turned around to go and lift.

Oh, he almost forgot—he was the hungest one of all; he can’t let that stay up. He erases the last word, leaving the fairytale phrase blank. Except all that flexing had left him aroused—a horse cock like his was insatiable. Maybe he can use the inscription for some solicitation. He fills in the blank and departs the locker room.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the sluttiest one of all..."

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house-of-lovin · 2 years ago

Text

be mine?

Wednesday Addams x F!Reader

masterlist

Summary: You and Wednesday have a reputation to uphold. Is it worth it?

Warnings: Suggestive themes, Profanity. haven't written in a long time so its probably trash.

Note: Where Wednesday is a lovestruck fool and I just really wanted to write about it.

Word Count: 5.4k+

Preview: 'The kisses exchanged were gentle and slow; Wednesday was taking the time to relish in the moment of having you this close. Committing to memory the taste of your mouth against hers; the feeling of your breath fanning against hers; the sounds of your satisfied sighs against hers.'

“Wednesday, I have to go…” You mumbled, disconnecting your lips from the girl.

“Mhmm.” She mutters back agreeing but continues tightly gripping the back of your neck with her cold hands.

“Enid and Thing are gonna be back soon.” You say breathlessly against her mouth, trying to gather some semblance of control of the situation. But let’s be real here, you lose all sense of self-control around the Addams girl.

“We’re…gonna…get…caught.” You mumbled through her hot open-mouthed kisses. God, you’re an idiot for not picking her up and throwing her on that bed.

“Wednesday.” You pull away, slightly pushing at her shoulders. Dark, blow-out pupils meet your own, the two of you – breathing hard. Her blinking is unfocused, clutching you tight to steady her breathing.

“What?” She blinks once again, this time looking into your eyes.

“Enid and Thing?” You remind, fondly amused at her tousled appearance. A sign that she allowed herself to lose herself in your presence. Wednesday would rather be caught dead than not have everything be to her liking. So, for her clothes and usual twin braids to be undone and disorderly made your head feel a bit woozy. You take the time to fix the mess her fringe had become as your breathing evens out.

“Right… Yes.” Wednesday untangles herself from your touch and your body’s reaction was instantaneous – already cold from losing contact with her, craving it in silence.

You and Wednesday caught yourself in the midst of a secret. You’ve been dating? Fooling around? Hooking up? You haven’t exactly talked about it, but it’s been going on for about two months now and none of your friends had caught on.

See, you and the Addams had quite a reputation; forming a rivalry of sorts. It was well-known around the school that you and her did not get along, like at all. You both always compete to outdo and outrank each other; whether it be in class, extracurriculars, or for no reason at all. Your friends often caught you two bickering over some trivial matters, engaging to rile each up then eventually escalating to points of threats of bodily harm – which is when your friends would have to step in and physically separate you two.

Before this… situationship, the only similarity you two had was your friend group, who knew to never leave you two alone for fear that the arguing and tension would boil over and you two would finally fulfill threats of harming each other.

Once you had a common goal to achieve, after being paired up for a school project; You and Wednesday found each other more than... decent. A deadly argument and kiss later, an undefined relationship blossomed.

“Come back tomorrow night. Enid is sleeping over at Ajax’s dorm, we will have the room to ourselves.” Wednesday says, murky, lust-filled eyes flickering to your mouth as she takes her thumb to smudge away remnants of her lipstick on your lips.

“Can’t get enough of me already?” Smirking, unable to resist teasing the girl.

“Please, as if you were not the one who was practically begging me all day to sneak away with you.”

Eyebrows rising to your forehead, “Me?” You retort in disbelief. “You kept making your eyes at me.” Gesticulating with widened eyes to emphasize your point.

“What eyes?”

“You know, the eyes you make at me when you wanna get down…” Wiggling your brows at the insinuation while hers bumped together in displeasure.

“I don’t make those eyes.” She grits, “And don’t call it that, ever.” But she pursed her lips in annoyance because her desires were so easily read by you – it made her black heart thud harshly against her rib cage; turning away from you to hide the tint of redness painting on her cheeks and ears.

She hated how easy it was for you to bring these emotions out of her, it made her want to vomit.

“You may go now.”

You chuckled, deciding not to push her buttons and point out how adorable you thought she was. You reach over and peck her cheek from behind. “I’ll see you later, Wednesday.” The raven-haired girl was more than glad she was facing away from you so that you didn’t see her cheeks reddening even more.

You make your way out of her dorm, smiling to yourself. You couldn’t keep it at bay even if you tried; overwhelmed with a fuzzy feeling that Wednesday always manages to make you feel. Keeping your head down, you walk down the hallway and away from her room.

“Y/N?” A voice called out, breaking away from your daydreaming.

“Enid! Hey.” Your eyes slightly widened, “what are you doing here?”

“I live here?” She responded with amused confusion, racking her eyes over your figure. You were looking slightly dishevelled, fidgety.

“What are you doing here? You live on the other side of campus, and it’s almost curfew.”

“Um… Wednesday.” The werewolf’s brow upturned at the mention of her roommate, curiosity sparking in her.

“Something about a lead in her investigation.” The lying was nothing new to you; having been doing it for months now since starting your relationship with the Addams girl.

Enid continued eyeing you, not completely believing Wednesday would ask you for help, but also knowing her roommate. That girl would never let a petty dispute derail her progress on an investigation. So it was plausible at best.

As Enid continues to observe you, she sees a tiny smudge of colour on your shirt collar and on the skin under. A shape of lipstick, she deduces. “Oh alright! Well, I’ll let you get back to your dorm. I’ll see you tomorrow in class?”

Letting out an internal sigh of relief that you didn’t set off too much suspicion from the werewolf. You smile widely and give an acknowledging nod, “Goodnight, Enid.”

Enid continues to watch as you walk away and eventually out of her eyesight when you turn a corner. She skips to her room with a slight pep in her step, opening the door widely to scan the room for her gloomy friend.

Her gaze lands on the Addams typing at her typewriter. “Good evening, roomie.”

Barely sparing the werewolf a glance, Wednesday regards her friend with a simple, “Hello.”

For a brief moment, silence takes over the room and Wednesday can practically feed Enid swaying on her feet from behind her. Her roommate obviously wanted to say something. “Spit out whatever you feel you must say, Enid.”

“What did you and Y/N get up to tonight?” The mention of your name made Wednesday straighten her already perfect posture; back stiff and strained.

“Y/N was having trouble with our previous lesson in Botany. I offered to tutor her, she clearly needed it.” The goth lied with ease; imperceptible to most, fooling almost anybody – perhaps even Enid, if she didn’t just catch you two in a lie.

“Weird. That’s exactly what she said when I saw her.” Wednesday's features fight to remain impassive. For a moment she wonders if you had slipped up and exposed the secret.

“Well – not weird, ‘cause why would it be weird that she said the same thing? Ha, anyways I’m gonna go get ready for bed now.” Enid excused, and with a turn of her heel, leaped to their shared bathroom; smiling widely in secret.

Wednesday decides to ignore her roommate's rambling not sure if she wanted to divulge the details of her odd demeanour.

– –

Granted, You and Wednesday got along more often these days it still didn’t stop the fact that you were both stubborn; annoyingly so. Whilst the arguments were not as vicious as before, you and the goth still definitely loved to get under each other’s skin.

You think it gives Wednesday the excuse to be more aggressive and take out her frustrations on you – not that she ever needed an excuse.

So the next day, when Enid leaves her herbology class and down to quad to meet her friends she wasn’t expecting you and Wednesday to be at each other’s throats again – Now Enid wasn’t expecting love and rainbows and crap from you two but these last two weeks have been surprisingly calm and cordial, after what she found out last night she deduced it’s because you two have finally recognized that you two are true love!

Which leads Enid to her confused present self.

The werewolf took a weary glance around the table – the group caught in the middle of an impending warzone. It was like walking onto incoming traffic, really. Just an accident waiting to happen.

Enid takes a seat next to Yoko, who – even with her sunglasses on – can be seen with slight fear in her expression. “What is it this time?” She whispers to the vampire.

“Our roommates are at it again.” She explains, “I think Y/N accidentally spilled her elixir on Wednesday’s bag in potions class – well, it started off as that. Now we’re at threats of violence.” Yoko rolled her eyes behind the frames; slightly torn between being scared or fed up with you two.

Down the table, your and Wednesday’s argument continues to ensue.

“I already said I was sorry! What more do you want from me!” You scowl, eyes burning with annoyance – already fed up with her incessant nagging.

“Perhaps I’ll cut off your tongue as punishment and use it as a sponge to scrub away your sorry excuse of potion off of my belongings!” She threatens, her brown orbs turning darker than you thought was possible.

Wednesday is certain her journal and notes were ruined because of your clumsiness. This is what she gets for pairing up with you; your mere presence distracted her which caused her to absentmindedly place a flask too close to your elbow – you can guess what happened next.’

You mildly gulp in fear at her tone, but your pride trumped any terror she can inflict. “Kinky… but I’m gonna have to give it a hard pass.”

“You are insufferable.” Wednesday retorts, crossing her arms – aggravation clear as day on her face.

“And you’re not as scary as you think you are.” Smirking when it breaks the tension. “Actually, you’re quite adorable, knowing all I know about you.” Your voice drops an octave as you lean closer on your elbows; discreetly eyeing her up and down; your words heard only by you and Wednesday.

If looks could kill, man, you’d be six feet under.

“But seriously, I said I was sorry. If you don’t want the apology, you don’t have to take it. But that’s all you’re getting from me.” With that, you left to stand and gather your things then turn to walk away.

Wednesday doesn’t miss the dismembered hand scurrying to keep up with your pace as you made your way back inside – Thing will surely pay for his disloyalty. Though deep down she couldn’t exactly blame the hand, her bag slightly reeked from the inside – thanks to you; no way Thing’s vainness allows for his soft, supple skin to touch such a surface.

For a moment, Wednesday sits there in silent fury, watching as you walk off. Clenching her jaw, she swallows her pride, gathers her things as well and chases follows after you.

Enid and Yoko, along with the rest of their friends who were watching the show, let out a sigh of relief as the goth girl left. The seemingly thick tension around the table dissipating.

“Um… should someone maybe follow them? You know – cause they might actually kill each other this time.” Xavier reasoned, wearily glancing in the direction Wednesday followed you in. “Just not me, please! Not after last time.” The boy visibly shivers at the memory.

“Ugh! I’ll do it.” Yoko relents – but Enid is reaching for her arm before she can stand.

“No!” Everyone turns to look at the werewolf’s sudden outburst. “Just leave them be, they’ll be fine.” She reassures.

“I don’t know Enid, it seems kinda bad this time.” Eugene cuts in, apprehensive.

“It seems bad every time! But we can’t always play ‘referee’ here. Let’s let them settle their differences on their own.” That seems to convince everyone else as they relent and decide not to follow you two. Enid prays her suspicions about you two are correct – even though she’s 80% sure already. Because she cannot be caught in the middle of your fighting again.

– –

The rough tug on your hair has your head jerking sideways away from the softest pair of lips you’ve ever tasted – face almost smacking the shelf in the tiny closet the Addams girl had dragged you in.

Wednesday’s lips violently nip at your throat; sucking, biting, tugging, releasing, then soothing with the coolness of her tongue. It has you throwing your head against the wall in a groan but her grip was tighter, preventing any sort of movement as she continued her assault on your neck.

“Shit – Wednesday.” You slump against her, tightening your grip on her waist when she bites down even harder at a particularly tender spot.

“That hurts.” Squirming as she continues to suck at the spot, the pressure turning into pain until she finally relents – releasing the skin with a ‘pop’ sound. Your hand instantly clamps down to ease the thudding pain.

“It’s supposed to.” Was all she said before she tenderly grabs the back of your neck to slot your lips together; this time much softer; way too soft for someone like Wednesday Addams.

The kisses exchanged were gentle and slow; Wednesday was taking the time to relist in the moment of having you this close. Committing to memory the taste of your mouth against hers; the feeling of your breath fanning against hers; the sounds of your satisfied sighs against hers. Her gentleness has your mind in a cloudy haze. When she finally pulls away, she’s reaching for your cheek, caressing it in the softest manner – something Wednesday didn’t even know she had in her. But that’s what you do to her – make her do things she didn’t think she was capable of.

You stare into her dark orbs with a lovestruck look that you hope doesn’t seem too obvious.

Unbeknownst to you, Wednesday finds herself caught in a similar trance.

“It still stings,” You pout, hoping to gather some sympathy points. Wednesday merely rolls her eyes before grabbing your wrist – still painfully clutching your neck – lowering it.

She eyes her creation with a smirk; her mark is big, the innermost part already turning purple, covered by a ring of angry red skin – pride swells in her chest at the sight of you marked by her. The bruise would surely be a tough one to cover up.

Instead of Wednesday’s usual quip, you were pleasantly surprised when all she did was lean down to carefully and tenderly kiss the spot, rubbing a cautious thumb over it while blowing a cool breath to ease the swelling skin. All you could do was stare at the top of her head with heart eyes as you swooned. It was pathetic of you really – that one girl managed to make you weak at the knees with a simple touch – but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. No, not when Wednesday Addams is in your arms, touching you, like that.

When Wednesday pulls away, she looks at your, still, pouting lips and connects them in another soft kiss; unwinding the pout. When she pulls away, she stares up into your eyes, “Better?” She asks so sincerely and your heart just about expanded five times its size at her tone.

You nod slowly, a soft smile tugging on your lips in appreciation for the goth’s affection. “Way better.” You pepper kisses on her jaw. Then, you pat her ass twice and give it a squeeze as you relinquish your hold on her waist.

“We should head back out. I’m pretty sure we already missed the first half of class.” You smirk cheekily, keeping your hand at its landed destination.

“Take your hand off my bottom, Y/N.”

“No thanks.”

She sighs irritably though she still hasn’t made one move to take your hand away from her ass. Actually, she seems rather comfortable still being wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“Why must you ruin every moment?” She murmurs in defeat.

“We were having a moment?” She huffs irately at the way your head tilts to the side when you ask the question. You were bewitchingly attractive even with that stupid smirk on your lips, but even still, Wednesday refused to swallow her pride this time – so she wills herself to pull away.

You let out a hearty chuckle, grabbing at her waist again to bring her even closer so you can plant a long kiss against her lips. Wednesday’s reaction was – as it always would be – instantaneous as she reciprocates the kiss when her hand finds its home on the nape of your neck, pulling you close.

“Seriously though, we need to leave.” You say when you finally, for the last time, pull away.

“Fine.” She untangles your mess of limbs to grab her backpack that was hastily thrown on the floor, slipping it on. “I will see you at lunch.”

“Mmm, nope. Detention.” You remind, and she huffs at remembrance. Why must you always get into trouble – not that Wednesday can speak but at least don’t get caught… as much.

“Don’t worry baby, we have tonight remember? Detention can’t keep us apart.” You foolishly try to wiggle your brows.

Wednesday rolls her eyes, walking over to the door handle, “You are insufferable. Call me that again and I’ll truly chop your tongue off.”

“But you love that–” the door shuts. “–about me.”

– –

“That was not scary.”

“It’s not supposed to be scary. It’s a parody of scary movies. They’re making fun of it.”

“Then they should not title it ‘Scary Movie’. It sends the wrong message to its audience… I should burn your copy of all five installations of this abomination.” You chuckle amusedly at her statement kissing atop her head.

The night had been a success. You and Wednesday had spent the evening watching a healthy dose of a variety of films, mostly horror as it was the only genre of movies Wednesday can stomach. You had cuddled, kissed, had sex; it was perfect. You lay there in utter peace, tangled up in bed together; no sense of where and which pair of limbs starts and ends.

It was nice having the evening to yourselves. Between classes and sneaking around your friends, you two don’t get many moments like these often. You made sure to cherish and appreciate them more. It made you feel like you were in a relationship. Even though you two haven’t exactly defined what this is – you find yourself simply appreciating the mere fact that you are the only person who gets to do this with her and that is more than enough for you.

And now, you both laid there – dressed in nothing but underwear and each other's shirt – Wednesday leaning her head on your chest as you twirl a strand of raven hair. Both on the precipice of sleep, the warmth radiating from your tangled legs becoming a gentle tug to give in, with the TV playing aimlessly in the background as an aid.

Just as Wednesday nestled her face closer to your neck – about to follow suit and doze off, she hears the sound of footsteps and keys jingling. Wednesday springs into action, startling you awake with a hand on your chest. She gives no verbal warning before she’s shoving you by the head under her thick duvet covers.

The door swings open followed by footsteps and your eyes instantly widen. “Hey, Wednesday.”

“Enid. Yoko.” Wednesday greets while you’re mentally freaking out about both of your roommates being so close to the truth.

“Yoko just tagged along with me to grab an overnight bag for my sleepover at Ajax’s,” Enid explains, grabbing her things.

“Ouu! Scary Movie! Didn’t think you’d like these. Cute hair by the way!” Yoko points out excitedly,

“You know of this abomination?” Wednesday inquires, choosing to ignore the other comment.

“Yeah, Y/N made watch all of them when she first moved in. It’s like her favourite or something.” They truly were.

“I’m not surprised, they’re awful. Of course, she would like these.” If she could see your face right now, she would see how offended you are by that statement. The nerve!

“So then why are you watching it?” Enid asks bemused.

“It was a recommendation from someone.”

“Huh… alright. I’m slightly offended you’re taking recommendations 'cause I’ve been begging you to watch The Great British Bake Off with me.” Enid squints, playfully glaring.

“I did not have a choice in the matter.” She mutters under her breath, only for you to hear. Wednesday discreetly wacks your hand away when you hit her thigh in jest.

“Anyways… speaking of Y/N.” That makes you and Wednesday stiffen, “have you seen her? ‘Cause after classes, she came by the dorm and hasn’t been back since. Enid and I have been in there all night. No signs of her still.” Yoko inquires with a mysterious lilt.

“No. I have not.” She lies smoothly like she always has.

“Oh really? ‘Cause after the bag incident we saw you follow her. Oh man, please don’t tell me you killed my roommate, it’s so hard to find one you actually like.” Yoko rambled, lost in her own thoughts. Enid had to forcefully lay a hand on her shoulder, Wednesday surely doesn’t miss the exchanged silent look between the two friends.

Could she – could they know? The Addams is nothing if not attentive, she was never wrong.

“Chill, Yoko. What she means is have you seen Y/N? We’re just worried.” Enid slid in and took the lead, plastering on a smile but it looked more like a grimace.

“ I followed her, merely to argue some more, then we parted ways for our next class. I did not see her again after that.” Wednesday answers with half-truths, your make-out session during second period did start off as an argument until it wasn’t.

“Alright…” Enid relents.

She knew better than to try and break Wednesday down. That girl was like a brick wall of information. She could probably trick a polygraph test. Enid should’ve gone to you first – if they could find you. With a goodbye, Enid tugs Yoko along and out the door. Wednesday waited a few more seconds, using her heightened hearing to see if the pair had actually left. Only when she was sure, did she pull you from under the covers.

“Jesus Christ, I felt like I was gonna suffocate.” You gasp, flinging yourself on your back as the high of almost getting caught begins to wear off.

“You would have been fine.” She side-eyed your dramatics.

“We just pulled a Chandler and Monica in London, babe.” You joked, grinning childishly at her. The goth’s eyebrows furrow in confusion at the reference.

She pinches your side with a firm clinch and you groan flinching away. “I do not know what insipid pop culture reference you are citing and I said don’t call me that.”

“FRIENDS?” All you get is a blank stare.

You sigh in defeat – remembering who you were talking to. “Nevermind that, do you think they know?”

“Yes.”

‘Fuck.”

– –

Wednesday was in a bad mood. A very bad mood. She was the human embodiment of the ‘DANGER, PROCEED WITH CAUTION’ sign – and people warily did so.

You and Wednesday have not had alone time, not since your last close call during movie night.

She and you had agreed to keep things ‘chill’ and ‘slowing down’ which meant cutting your already reduced time together to practically non-existent, at this point. Wednesday finds herself deeply regretting agreeing to the foolish agreement. She hasn’t been alone with you in two weeks and Wednesday is growing distressingly annoyed.

Your period of separation has made Wednesday realize that she finds herself always wanting to be around you – slowing down, be damned. Because if slowing down and hiding this relationship you have with her meant more of this strange, painful feeling in her chest then she wants no part of it. The pressure is fleeting but it always comes back when the goth sees something that reminds her of you; in these last two weeks, it seems you have plagued everything in her surroundings because the goth simply cannot rid her thoughts of you.

Wednesday doesn’t think she can do the hiding and sneaking anymore in favour of keeping up this enemies/rivals facade.

Why torture yourselves by keeping apart from one another?

She fumes at the thought of how idiotic you two have been – she was mad, mostly at herself for not seeing it sooner. She supposed it may be healthy for her to acknowledge her fear of love; romantic love no less is a contributing factor to why she hasn’t spoken about what your relationship means. Because Wednesday Addams doesn’t do love.

But now as Wednesday furiously clanks at her typewriter’s keys; her usual graceful and fluid motions were anything but as her heart physically constricts at her last interaction with you – her beliefs could be swayed.

You two were sitting in botany class, doing well to avoid Enid and Yoko’s watchful eyes. It seems the pair have taken it upon themselves to start their own investigation on your and Wednesday’s relationship – lurking around your guys’ shoulder, always watching.

They were close to your scent that night, so you needed to throw them off your trail.

Hence the period of separation, but none of that mattered anymore because you were rejecting her, again.

Wednesday sees you sliding a haphazardly ripped paper with new writing, it read:

“im sorry u know i still cant come over. still too risky :(“

Wednesday’s aggressive typing catches up to her when she realizes she’s made an error; pressing an incorrect key. She clenches her jaw at the mistake and the memory of your rejection.

She reaches out to grab the stack of fresh paper that was laid out in advance but realizes she had used it all up from her previous mistakes. You have been the reason for her scatterbrain tonight and it seems her disorderly is catching up to her. She never makes a mistake during her writing time.

Wednesday pushes her chair back, standing to make her way to the closet to grab more paper. She glances a brief look at the clock on the wall, noting the time. It was late evening and the friend group should all be at your and Yoko’s dorm by now.

After your last class with Wednesday – where you dejectedly rejected her invitation – your friends all hurriedly made Friday night plans. They came up with an evening at the Weathervane and then a movie night at your and Yoko’s dorm; they insisted Wednesday tag along for the event but with her increasingly irate mood she knew she would not be good company.

She didn’t miss your pleading glances at her as if to say ‘please come’. Wednesday is not sure why would want her there anyway, seeing as you and her still had a facade to keep up and that you haven’t made a single advance towards her in the last two weeks.

She bitterly looks away from the clock at the last thought.

Wednesday steps into her closet, making swift steps to the cabinet she knew had more of her typing paper, but her feet stumble at the sight of your shirt absentmindedly thrown over some of Wednesday’s clothes. She must’ve chucked it there after changing in the morning.

The goth reaches out to grab the fabric, bringing it up to her nose to smell the comforting scent – it was fading, terribly so. It felt like you were fading, it had been two weeks after all.

Wednesday screws her eyes shut in annoyance at the two words; two weeks, a sour reminder of her time apart from you.

With that overwhelming agitation rumbling in her chest, again. Wednesday thought: enough. Dropping your shirt where it was found, her heavy boots clunk against the old hardwood floor as she leaves her room. She makes the familiar trek out of Ophelia Hall and to the fastest way to your dorm.

She thought of the fury of demands she would hurl at you, once she pulled you away from everyone. She doesn’t exactly know what those words are going to be yet – and footing stumbles at the thought. All she knows is the pressure in her chest is growing uncomfortably painful and the only remedy she can think of is you.

Before she knows it, she’s reaching your door, bringing a tightly-wound fist to the surface banging down; loud and hard.

It took a few seconds, but there you were, opening the door with a confused frown on your face and Wednesday’s semi-rehearsed fury of words toward you was gone. Behind you, she can see your guys’ friends all pretending not to be watching but failing miserably.

“Wednesday? I thought you said you didn’t want to hang. Did you change your mind?” It was Enid who calls out from her spot inside the room.

“No.” She responded immediately, but she was still only looking at you; unable to break her stare. You were looking at her with such a concerned gleam in your eyes as you took in Wednesday’s dishevelled appearance from her trek over here. The goth’s heart skips a beat. No one has ever looked at her like that before.

“Are you okay? What happened?” You sprang into concerned questioning, allowing your act of hostility toward her to slip away. Suddenly the space between you and Wednesday as you stand on opposite sides of the threshold feels too far.

Abandoning all rational thinking and consequences that may come after, Wednesday reaches forward and grabs at your waist – knuckles in a tight-white grip around your shirt. She’s pulling you out into the hallway, lips pressed together in a frenzied but gentle manner. Your hand gingerly cups her jaw, as your body surrenders to the familiar feeling of her kiss – the door slamming shut behind you, no doubt giving your friends a snippet of the show.

You can kind of hear excited screaming and loud talking behind the door. But you tune that out and focus on the girl in your arms.

Pulling away you rest your forehead against hers, trying to swallow shallow deep breaths.

“What was that for?” You ask breathlessly against her lips.

Her gaze turns soft, gulping before starting, “I could not go any longer without having you near. These last two weeks have been agonizing. Being alone, without you was torture – and not in the way I usually enjoy. It was… debilitatingly painful to exist without you. I wish to never experience it again.”

You were the human embodiment of heart eyes right now.

“So, please. Don’t do that again.” Wednesday pleads with – she’s sure – is the most pathetic expression right now; desperation clear as day. But she can’t bring it in herself to care anymore. No, not when she brushes a soothing thumb to your lip and you react with a giddy smile.

“What about what the others might think?” Nodding towards your room – which has seemingly quieted down; if you didn't know any better, you’d say your friends had their ears up against the door, listening in.

You were practically already putty in her hands but figured you’d tease and ask for good measure.

Wednesday briefly glances at the door; scowling in thought. When she looked back at you, she was shaking her head with a frown.

“I don’t–” She hesitates, gathering her thoughts, “–I do not care about what anyone else thinks… I just want you.”

And with the softest doe-eyed look, you’ve ever been given, your heart swells ten times its size. You reach forward to slip your tongue in her mouth to bring her in for another searing kiss that you hope encompasses all you feel for the other girl.

You pull away for a breath, gasping as you say, “Be mine.”

She whispers a hoarse, “Yes,” as she tugs on your bottom lip with her teeth; nodding slightly; noses bumping together.

You hear a thud from behind the door at Wednesday’s response.

On the other side, Yoko and Ajax have caught a fainting Enid in their arms.

#wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday x you #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday imagine #wednesday fanfic

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kanmom51 · 9 days ago

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JM's fascination with JK's tiddies

Is it only me or have we kind of ignored this moment? Moved on a little too quickly from it, at the very least.

But before we get into it here, did y'all notice this?

Stop looking at JK's bare back, that's not it!!!

It's JM's comment that had me thinking.

JM didn't have to tell JK he didn't touch him, not to mention the fact that they constantly get handsy with each other, so why would he have to say that?

Noticed it when the episode came out, and first thing that came to mind was: "he knows". They see everything. They know what people say about them. We know about some of JM's fans having a hard time accepting what those two have, and more so the constant claims of JK being mean to JM or even physically abusing him. You think the two of them are unaware of these posts? With this comment, I'm kind of thinking that the answer to that would be an astounding no. They know. We've seen them do things, say things in the past that were clearly a reaction to online claims, hateful posts. I do think this is one of those occasions. Imo, the second JM said "this is violence" he knew there would be those that would run with it... hence the comment to follow.

Ok, and now this:

Why is it that while saying "don't get excited already" he's going for JK's pecs?

We've addressed many of their interactions from their trips, sweet and naughty. Including their Sapporo trip. But somehow, this moment has gone a little under the radar.

I guess that in an episode where we have them both prancing around half naked enjoying each other's company in the hot and cold tubs, flexing their arms and chests in our faces, this moment can get slightly lost, lol.

So, here I am, doing a public service (aren't I great that way?), bringing it back for us to talk about.

I will start by saying how much I love love love their playfulness. It's never ending. Of course, just like any long term loving couple, they have their difficult moments (we are all human after all), but also, like many long term loving couples, they have this humor reserved only to the two of them, knowing how to laugh together, play together, have fun together. They have their own games, their own jokes, many a times those around them are in the dark, unable to understand or join in (at times, as we see with the other members, not wanting to, seeing that they are so over those two already, lol).

And while I'm at it already then:

I love their relationship. Just had to say that at this point.

I love how they love each other to death.

I love how they have been together for close to a decade and still lust over each other.

I love how sometimes you catch them looking at the other like it's the first time they've seen them, like they are the hottest thing under the sun, like they are the sun and the moon to them (well, they literally are the sun and the moon).

I love how much they know each other.

I love how much they look out for each other and take care of each other.

I love how much they not only love one another, but actually like each other.

I love how they just FIT.

I love how they have their own Jikook sense of humour and I love how playful they are with each other.

I love how they CHOSE to enlist together. Chose to spend the 18 months of military service with each other even when knowing that this clearly meant a more difficult placement and service. I love how they were the most important thing to each other, being together, looking out for each other, looking after each other through this difficult time of their lives.

All of the above makes for the healthiest loveliest long term relationship.

And then you have the combination of the playfulness and the hots with the "grab/touch/poke/fondle the chestie" game, which seems to be one of JM's favourite games, lmao.

JM most definitely has a fascination with JK's chest. Past, present, future.

They are litterally JM's chestie besties.

He looks at them, he touches them, he grabs them, he pokes them, he talks about them.

He owns them!!!

#Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jungkook #Jimin #JK #JM #JungJi #JM's chestie besties

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onlinedolly · 15 days ago

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your content is literally everything... cant stop thinking about dad toji.. also have u ever thought about uncle nanami 🤭

yes yes i think of uncle!nanami

cw: incest, dubcon, mean nanami, fingers in v, not proof read, guys i think that’s it ok

like uncle!nanami is so stoic and cold when you’re around, you almost think he doesn’t like you! he’d come around a lot, especially when your parents were away to keep an eye on you (despite you being a literal adult…). he wouldn’t mutter more then a couple sentences to you, sitting on the couch sipping on much-too-expensive bourbon.

little did you know uncle!nanami was holding himself back, as desperately and as much as he could as you pranced around the house in shorts that exposed most of your puffy thighs. he’d watched you grow, from a small bratty child to a young bratty woman with a body he couldn’t take his eyes off of.

“nanamin,” you whine for him, nanamis eyes going wide as you shuffle into the living room in a small black dress, “i’m goin out, kay?”

“no.” he responds, as stoic and serious as ever as he really tries to not look you up and down hungrily.

“i didn’t ask?” you quip back with furrowed brows

“i didn’t give you permission.” he sips his bourbon, notices how your dress dips down your collarbones into your cleavage, thinking about the deep bruise marks he could leave there, how you’d wiggle and whine against him, how wet you’d feel— no. he shouldn’t. but god he wants to. “you look like a whore.” he speaks out lazily making you gasp at him, anger coursing through you.

“i’m sorry?” you snip back at him.

nanami stands then, slowly walking towards you like predator to prey, he’s shifting the glass around his hands as he glasses at you over his glasses, “you look like you’re beggin for it, angel.” he tuts, the alcohol coursing through his veins.

you were seething at this point, leaning forward to shove your finger into his chest, “you’re a dick.” you grit out.

nanami laughs, dark eyes and a large smirk across his face as he grabs your hand against his chest tightly, pulling you close to him roughly as he brings his lips to your ear, “i could give it to ya’ baby,” the alcohol made him brave, made him loose, and he just couldn’t resist it anymore, “been wanting too for a long time.”

your head is spinning, your full of anger, confusion, disgust, yet there’s this feeling, deep inside and bubbling to the surface as his breath fans across your face.

“you’re disgusting,” you grit out, pulling back in attempt to get away from him. but instead he just holds you closer, moving his hand down the expanse of your back and he smirks.

“your nipples are rock hard.” he points out, removing his hand from yours to tweak your nipples through your dress. you whine involuntarily under him, trying to push back but he’s got a tight grip around your waist, “betcha your droolin’ down there too, am i right?” you squeeze your legs together and tears threaten to fall, “i saw that.” he whispers.

your uncle was a handsome man, tall with blonde hair and muscles, you’d always thought so. but this? the touching? you didn’t want that, not really. in all honesty, sometimes he flashed across your mind when you had your hand circling your clit, and one time during a hookup you only came thinking of him filling you up, but those were fantasies. not reality, not here and now. you wiggle again and all it does is make you feel his large cock underneath you.

you gasp as he roughly grabs your ass, his other hand circling your nipple through your dress. he’s whispering dirty words into your ear, begging you to give in, telling you you’re daddy can never find out. what would happen if you gave in, really? knowing nanami he’d probably avoid you like the plague after, never to be talked to again. and maybe you could live with that as nanami slips his hand into your underwear, running his finger up your cunt.

“knew it.” he spoke smugly into your ear, feeling the way your lust basically dripped down your legs. he laughs sadistically as you sob in his hold, overwhelmed and confused on why this felt so fucking good. before you know it he’s circling your clit, slowly, too slowly and you whining under him. you know what he’s doing, waiting for you to beg, for you to tell him you need this. and you’re so overwhelmed, chasing a high you can expect will be euphoric, so you open your mouth,

“nanamin please.” that was all he needed before shoving two large fingers deep inside of you, instantly stroking your g-spot. his thumb makes lazy fast circles on your clit as he fucks you with his fingers right in the living room.

you feel dizzy and high as he growls in your ear, pumping his fingers roughly into you until your sobbing and telling him you’re going to cum. and when you do, god it is euphoric. nanami has to hold you up as you cum, body limp and shaking as your hips roll against his fingers. the front of nanamis pants are wet, a indication he came all over himself from just getting you off.

when you come down from your high he pulls his hand out of your panties, pulls your dress down, licks his fingers, and picks up his glass before settling in front of the tv, “why don’t you change? since you’re not going out.”

#— mars answers <3 #— mars rambles ^ ^#tw.dark content #tw.incest #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x you

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unnerving-presence · 1 year ago

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Pls Ghostface, Wesker, Ji-Woon, and Evan when a fem! Survivor flashes them during a trial as an attempt to distract them from killing her or a teammate? Like flashing her panties or boobs at them. 🫣 How would they react

MANNNN 😖

as of right now i only do 3 characters at a time so i will be excluding mr dan man johnson from this one ajdhskfb

☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎

Albert Wesker:

While there’s no doubt that Wesker is a ruthless, power-hungry individual, his man brain cannot help but submit to the fleshly desires of the world that he so dearly hates. That includes in this very moment, seeing your tits slightly jiggle as you lift your shirt up. If his glasses were off his eyes would be glued to your chest but you can already assume he’d be doing that already behind that grimace plastered on his face.

Wesker recovers very quickly as if you flashing him didn’t almost give him a hard-on on the middle of a trial. He can’t let that distract him from his mission but he fears it already has.. He can already see the mistakes he makes before he even makes them. All he can think about are those breasts and it’s like a virus in his brain. Damn you!

Even he can admit that it was a smart move.. Especially since you made him feel things he hasn’t felt in YEARS. At this point arousal is a foreign concept to him. You flashing him was like him getting smacked with 5 semi-trucks of pure arousal. Even when he thinks about getting back at you he can’t help but drift his mind back to that magnificent view you gave him. He.. actually respects it. You don’t see many people bold enough to show their tits to a random stranger. He views you as a challenge, a worthy foe. And.. a quite attractive one at that.

Ji-Woon Hak:

For a moment that murderous smile was wiped off his face. He’s had fans flash him before, but having his prey do so? That’s quite surprising. Ji-Woon never cared much for romantics, but he didn’t have a problem with free eye-candy. Even if it were just for a moment. While it didn’t exactly effect him, it did distract him long enough for your teammate to escape. Well done.

Recovers quite quickly though and decides that you are a far more valuable target. As said before, he’s seen tits plenty of times. Being flashed is something that doesn’t exactly phase him anymore, though you were a slightly different story. A little surprised, but ultimately not very effective. Cute though..

Sees you as a worthy victim as well. One he’d like to see how else you’d try and defend yourself against him. For his own twisted pleasure he may just keep you alive. He’ll be checking out your behavior in trials to come. He’d love to see what else you can bring to the table. Though he’s not gonna complain if you flash him again..

Evan Macmillan:

The one out of this bunch that actually gets severely effected by your little distraction. It’s already difficult having to kill people against his will, having to live with constant pain rippling through his back, shoulders, and arms. It doesn’t exactly help when an admittedly hot survivor suddenly flashes their magnificent tits right at him.

He wishes he could get you out of his head but he can’t. For the rest of the trial you plague his mind, making it ever more difficult for him to focus and actually hit a damn survivor. In some ways it’s a motivator, making him more brutal for the remainder of the trial. Though at times he gets so distracted that he even steps in one of his traps, causing a bit of an injury he would have to brush off if he were to please the Entity. He’s no weak man by any means, but it’s definitely been a while since he’s a seen a pair. It’s.. gonna take him a bit to regain himself. Maybe even give you the sweet gift of forcefully pushing your head down into a bear trap just so he can think of killing again.

Evan may be a very tough, intimidating killer one wouldn’t want to willingly approach, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel lust. It’s definitely a feeling he hides away, though it quickly erupts into something much more than that when you come around. After that trial he soon does get over it in the sense where he’s not getting constantly distracted during trials. Though he promises to himself that he’ll never forget your face. He’s not after you for the thrill of the hunt. He’s after you for something much, much more than that.

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #albert wesker x reader #ji woon hak x reader #evan macmillan x reader

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shy-writer-999 · 2 months ago

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Summary: Zoro likes to choke you. He’s a fan of doing it to the point where you can’t breathe. ~800 words, short and (surprisingly) sweet!

CW: Afab reader, no gendered language, choking, breath play (erotic asphyxiation) (!!!!!), dirty talk, P in V.

MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

Zoro has a thing for breath play and choking. You converted him to it, really. He was pretty apprehensive about the whole thing when you proposed it.

But when his cock was in you and your face turned red from his hand around your throat, it got him off more than anything else. He loved to hear those desperate whimpers and sputters from your lips as he restricted your oxygen and rammed your dripping-wet core. When your moans turned into labored gasps and your eyes rolled back in your head, his cock throbbed and the coil in his stomach threatened to snap.

That damned haki of his. It made the whole thing more enjoyable, easier—he was able to read you so clearly, he could see when it was too much, when you were about to literally pass out. He could tell when your vision was just starting to get blurry, when your pleasure was on the verge of being too much. So, he brought you to the edge each time, like you asked, and then let you breathe again.

Every time his fist tightened around your throat, he could feel your walls squeeze and clench around his length, milking precum out of his cock while you struggled to breathe. He liked that you were a sadist. That you enjoyed the pain of him crushing your throat, the fighting for air while he hit your g-spot with every plunge of his cock into you.

You arched your back and clawed at the sheets while he dragged his girth in and out. Each pass elicited another moan from you accompanied by a squelching sound. He spoke down to you, grunting words between ragged breaths. Sometimes it was praise, other days he’d degrade you, most often he’d make love to you.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he groaned and stared down at where his cock slid into your slicked up folds. “Pussy feels so—so fucking good.”

Zoro’s hand would usually find its way to your throat. You’d have to prompt him sometimes. He’s a sweetheart and a gentleman. So, he needed some coaxing occasionally.

“Come on, Zoro,” you mewled softly and looked at him, lustful and lidded eyes beckoning for more. “Choke me, please. Hard. I want it.”

He’d fold with ease and snake a huge, rough hand upwards.

Some days, the choking would be just choking. No breath play. He’d wrap a hand around your throat and leave it there, squeezing softly, not cutting off your airway. But other days he’d edge you while he stopped you from breathing. You’d feel like you were floating, either that or drowning, suffocating in the purest, nastiest pleasure imaginable.

“God, you’re fucking filthy. So fuckin’ desperate for my cock, so needy and messy. Fuhhhcckkk.”

The more worked up he got, the nastier things said. “Take it all for me, baby. Cream on my cock and let me fuck you full.”

When your cheeks were ruddy and only the whites of your eyes were visible, he pumped harder and brought a thumb to your clit. His hips rolled artfully, rocking into your sensitive, hot spot. Frequently, when he was close to orgasm, the hand around your throat crept upwards and cupped your cheek.

"Fuck, you're beautiful." He couldn’t help it. You were always so sweet for him, so patient, so desperate, so good. His lips met yours, salty from sweat, sloppy with desire, and demanding your affection. He put his forehead on yours and rubbed his thumb in circles on your cheek while he kissed you passionately.

Zoro always made sure your orgasm was white-hot and so euphoric you couldn’t speak. He loved to kiss you through it, savoring the feeling of your moans vibrating his mouth, your slippery tongue wasting no time to press on and swirl around his.

When your whines reached a desperate pitch and you writhed on his shaft, he fucked you slowly through your climax, helping you ride out last ripples of pleasure on his cock before he pulled out.

He tried his hardest to not bruise you. He was successful most of the time, but when he first started out, he didn’t have as good a handle on it. Whenever he squeezed a little too hard now (only ever when you asked for it), he’d get a sick sort of satisfaction watching you go about your day with faint bruises from his fingertips along that pretty throat of yours.

thanks for reading!! here's my masterlist and here's my october posting schedule.

i'm posting each day from now until halloween!

finally, trick or treat? (tumblr links)

#z's kinktober #zoro smut #roronoa zoro smut #one piece smut #op smut #op x reader #one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro x y/n

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avocado-writing · 11 months ago

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good boy

notes: my mate M put this idea in my head. this is her fault. pairing: gale x f!reader (sub!gale, dom!reader; praise kink; mummy kink)

rating: E

Gale has been dealt an unnecessarily unfair hand in the card game of life, you think.

Having a tumultuous relationship with a goddess is one thing, getting a bloody magic bomb sealed into your chest is quite another. And all on top of being infected with that damned tadpole?

Well. Those sorts of things can really grind a man’s self esteem down.

You can see that he tries to paint over it with his erudite speech, using fifteen words where he could use one to trick his listener into believing he holds a sense of grandeur about himself—but you know how to look for the subtler signs. The way he casts his eyes down whenever you give him a fond word, flinching ever so slightly when someone reaches out to touch him in kindness.

Deep down, the man does not believe he deserves to be treated well.

You are trying to correct that in every way you know how.

“That’s it… aren’t you gorgeous, Gale? Such a good boy for me…”

“Unf… I…”

You can tell he’s trying to think of something clever or witty to say. From where you ride him, you press a finger down onto his lips to corral him to silence. It works, and as his mouth slips open you let your thumb slide against his tongue so he can suck it.

Gods he is gorgeous. Chestnut, silver-streaked hair fanned out like a halo against the velvet of his pillows, a soft sheen of sweat dripping down him to give away the rigour you’ve been putting his body through. You made a point to apply your reddest lipstick so you could leave a trail of your adoration on him. Marks are pressed along his jawbone, down his neck, across his collarbone and chest; he is a masterpiece of debauchery.

“You’re so beautiful like this, Gale. So beautiful all the time, dancing across the battlefield while you weave your magic… such clever hands, darling, so lovely…”

Those hands are currently settled on your hips, holding you tightly as you fuck him. With each word of praise you feel his cock twitch inside you. It’s nice to know what you can do to him, how wild you can drive him. As wild as he drives you.

A grind down of your pelvis, pressing your clit into the rough hair at the base of him and grinning as he moans.

“Tell me you’re my good boy, Gale. I want to hear it from your pretty mouth.”

What happens next is in a tumble of words, so fast you don’t properly catch it for a moment.

“I’m—fuck—I’m your good boy, mummy!”

He freezes. You pause in your riding. His eyes snap open from where they were squeezed shut in rapture. The flush of pink across his skin is now no longer from lust, but shame, and he realises he has made a mistake in voicing that out loud.

“Gods. My deepest apologies, I never… didn’t mean to… we should have discussed this first, beforehand, I’m utterly horrified that… I’m sorry—!”

You reach down and silence his panic with a long, tender kiss, rolling your tongue across his. When you pull back, he’s returned to looking blissed-out rather than concerned.

“‘Mummy’, is it?” you ask, mouth ticking upwards into a rather pleased smirk. “Well, darling boy. Mummy is very glad you know how good you are. How handsome and clever and wonderful.”

“Oh…” he whimpers, actually whimpers, and you know he won’t last long like this. You go back to riding him in earnest, fucking him until all he can do is gasp, and press one of your hands down across that mark on his chest, obscuring it beneath your touch.

He is not Mystra’s. He is yours.

“Come for mummy, you beautiful boy.”

Gale comes so hard you’re worried that he passes out for a second. His hips stutter beneath yours as hot jets fill you up, bringing you over the edge with him, the cocktail of the two of you leaking back down his length obscenely.

He falls back and tries to catch his breath as you slowly pull off of him, grabbing the wet cloth you brought bedside earlier and gently wiping him down. The coolness makes him sigh in delight and he nuzzles into your touch, gulping down water gratefully when you bring a cup to his lips.

“Are you alright, my love?” you ask gently, the rougher edge of your voice gone, giving away to something soft and caring. He nods and meets your eyes with his warm, adoring gaze.

“Yes, my heart. Better than ever. And… I really didn’t mean to… I know we were swept up in the moment but if you’re not comfortable with it then you absolutely never have to…”

Another kiss. Less dominant, more reassuring. He hums delightedly into this one.

“Whatever you need me to give you, my love,” you tell him. He melts into your arms, safe and loved.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate@dhampling (lmk if you want to be added!)

#gale of waterdeep x reader #gale Dekarios x reader #gale x tav #gale of waterdeep x tav #Gale bg3 x reader #gale x reader #My writing

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kingkat12 · 3 months ago

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quickie (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, party sex, semi-public sex, established relationship, drunk-ish sex, Roman is shameless and drunk lol, alcohol mentions

summary: Roman can't keep his hands off you-- no matter where you are.

word count: 1,581

It was hard to fight Roman’s grip around me, especially since he towered heads above me— I knew it was a lost cause.

However, I was pissed. Pissed about how he had behaved at tonight's party, and how he had managed to get so drunk that he was grabbing at me at every opportunity. “Rome,” I huffed, putting my hands on his chest to force some space between us after he had managed to get us both into the bathroom.

Roman, drunk off his ass, did his best to keep his balance. He swayed a little, looking down at me with those hungry eyes I knew too well; “What? I can’t touch my girl?”

“Not here!” When I was sure he wouldn’t fall onto the bathroom floor, I quickly ran over to the door to lock it properly. “We’re at Letha’s birthday party, can’t you keep yourself together?” Amid my annoyance, I scanned him; all dressed up in his white shirt, hair gelled back into a classic heartbreaker look. I couldn't deny it all made my heart beat faster.

Hiccuping, Roman blinked twice— he clearly saw no issue with having sex at his cousin’s party. “Why should I?” He stepped towards me, watching me press myself up against the door. “We haven’t been alone all week… Isn’t this just the perfect opportunity?”

I struggled to hold back a shiver. It was tempting, sure, but completely inappropriate. “I’m not having sex with you in a bathroom,” I mumbled, no longer meeting his strikingly green gaze. “Makes me feel cheap.”

“Cheap?” Roman’s arms snaked around me once more, his soft lips pressing a kiss to my temple. “You’re looking at it all wrong.”

I did my best to phase out the strong smell of brandy coming from my boyfriend— I wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of him when he was drunk. “And how am I supposed to look at it, then?”

He hummed against my skin, his fingers tracing circles into the back of my short, red dress. “Think of it more like… I can’t wait another second to be with you,” Roman placed a kiss against my cheek, drawing forth a pink-ish blush. “I want to feel you around me despite where we are, isn't that a nice thought? I would want you even if we were at a fucking trash compound.”

I could only laugh— he probably didn’t catch how big of a turn-off that image actually was, especially in his drunk state. “That sounds unsanitary,”

Roman chuckled, leaving behind a wet mark against my jaw after kissing me there. I closed my eyes, letting my head loll back against the door as I relished in the feeling; I had certainly missed this.

“I don’t care,” he eventually said, one hand trailing up to twist itself in the nape of my hair. With another tug, evoking a whimper, Roman kissed his way up to my ear, leaving me heaving for air— it reminded me that he could leave me breathless, no matter the situation.

I had to swallow my pride, realizing that his little scheme was working. “Someone could— hear,” Unexpectedly, my hips bucked forward in the middle of my sentence as Roman pressed a ridiculously soft kiss against my ear. My hands gripped his shirt, panting. “And you’re— you’re drunk!”

Roman hummed, a sinister, low laugh escaping him. “Let…” His hands dropped, fingers dipping past the edge of my dress as he slowly pulled it up along my thighs. I shuddered, bringing his face into my hands as I watched his green eyes sparkle with lust. “Me…” The dress was now at my waist, Roman’s eyes hungrily scouring my underwear. He didn’t spend a lot of time looking (he had always been more of a do-er, anyways) before he leaned forward, pressing a kiss against my lower abdomen. My breath hitched as Roman bunched up my dress, digging his long digits into my waist as he licked a stripe up to my navel, listening to my whimpers as he held me back from squirming. “Fuck…” He came up shortly after, a satisfied smirk on display across his full lips as he pressed me flush against him, connecting us with a passionate, fiery kiss. As he pulled away, I realized how dizzy I was— and I was about to beg him to do it again, until he slowly turned me around to face the door. My eyes were wide as Roman’s last words were whispered against my ear; “… You.”

At this point, I was practically gelatin in his arms. I could only nod, struggling to breathe as Roman kissed down my exposed neck, now grinding the hardness of his cock up against my ass with a relieved sigh. “Is that a yes?” he whispered, gently driving his teeth into my shoulder.

I whimpered— I couldn’t fight it anymore. “Yeah,”

“Oh, thank God,” Roman’s grip around me tightened, proceeding to press passionate nips and bites up my neck. “I’ve wanted you all night… All fucking night.”

I had to suppress the urge to roll my eyes. “Don’t remind me,”

Roman laughed, his hands taking in the softness of my skin against his rough ones before they traveled further down. “Now, now... Don’t get all sassy on me,”

My eyes sprung wide open as his hands ghosted over my underwear, and I let out a wanton moan as his fingers brushed over my clit. “Sorry,” I tried, my apology quickly turning into a trail of profanities as he used two fingers to press down against me, rubbing me through my underwear as I leaned my forehead against the door in defeat. “Shit, shit—”

Roman hummed into my shoulder, clearly happy with the results of his plot. “So, my girl likes to be touched now, hm?”

Fucker— he knew damn well.

“Does she?” he teased, his tone only fueling the fire in my body.

I could barely reply; my mind was dulled down by the feeling of Roman’s fingers rubbing tight, firm circles against my clit.

He smirked, pressing several kisses against my shoulder. “Yes, she does,”

Oh, Roman and his dirty mouth— I couldn’t take it. “We— We can’t be in here for too long,” I tried, panting into the wood of the door. “People will get, hah—suspicious.”

Thankfully, my boyfriend seemed to agree. “We’ll make it quick, then,” Roman wasted no time, a whine escaping my lips as his hands deserted the aching need between my legs. He hooked his fingers around my underwear, dragging it down and leaving it around my thighs before he reached for his zipper.

“This is so stupid,” I mumbled, trying to catch my breath in the meantime. “I can’t believe we’re doing this—” My words came to a halt as Roman’s thick cock eased into me, and I let out a choked moan as I tried to support myself against the door. All my morals suddenly flew out the window; this felt too good to fight.

Roman suppressed his sigh of relief against my shoulder, quickly recovering from the wave of pleasure upon entering me. “Come again?” he teased, digging his fingers into my hips as he slowly stroked further into me with each thrust.

My breath hitched, holding back a cry of rapture as I moved to meet every pump of his cock—I couldn’t believe how much I had missed this. “Rome,” I cried, placing one hand over his. “A-Aah—”

“Shh,” Roman pressed soft kisses against my neck, bucking into me. “Not so loud, baby… Wouldn’t want anyone to hear, would we?”

Crap— I had to force myself to be aware of my surroundings. It suddenly hit me that we were fucking in Letha’s bathroom, and how we definitely didn’t want to be caught in here; no one would ever let me live that down. So I bit down on my bottom lip, letting my lids fall heavy over my eyes as Roman’s cock stroked into me, the angle allowing him to brush against my sweet spot over and over.

It didn’t take long before I started to feel on the brink of delirium—it certainly didn’t help my state when Roman reached around my body, rubbing my clit with the rhythm of his thrusts. I couldn’t help but turn a bit, reaching forward to tug his brown hair, a satisfaction building deep inside of me as I heard him suppress a moan against my shoulder.

It didn’t take long before Roman’s lips came crashing against mine in a passionate kiss, which soon enough ended up with the both of us panting against one another, chasing our highs.

“You feel—Fuck, you feel so, so—” Roman let out a grunt as my walls clenched around him, his green eyes rolling back just slightly.

The sight of that alone nearly sent me over the edge, but it was the sweet kiss he pressed against my temples that did it for me. That, along with the continuous thrusts of Roman’s cock and the firm circles against my clit, made me cry out against the door.

The physical motions of my orgasm gripped around Roman’s girth, drawing forth a moan as he spilled into me, the warmth of his cum almost instantaneously seeping out of me.

As our panting filled the room, it dawned on me that I had done the exact opposite of what I had told myself tonight. With that realization, I couldn’t help but break our moment of rapture with a giggle—“We’re so doing this again,”

Roman smiled as he leaned down, leaving a trail of eager kisses along my shoulder; “We so are,”

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