#he also purrs when you scratch it with your nails

[rinachains]

sukuna has a very sensitive nape, and when you kiss it (completely mindlessly) for the first time, draped over his back, he shudders so hard that you almost fall back

[dmitriene]

cw: manipulating, not sure about dubcon but might.

college nerd könig, there's nothing typical nerdy about him, no glasses, his vision is actually pretty good, so he can not hide the bright baby blue of his cornea, it's just a simple choice of his to avoid talking to others and busy himself with some projects and works that need to be done, unlike many others, those who choose to hang out all day long and condemn him.

you're sweet, not some popular girl of the whole college or your class, just a one of many that study here, but in his eyes, you are practically the center of the entire universe, because the mere fact that you pay attention to könig's being and chat with him about anything, even the topics that only he understands, is enough for him to become attached to you, basking in your attention.

you don't know about a twisted, grappling idea which scratches against the framework of his mind, forcing him to try, to take the chance to get close to you, to show others that there can also be such an adorable doll like you next to him, getting shy sweetly when he hooks his fingers against your hand or knee, or purrs a hoarse praise when you remember what he told you last time, calling you a schlaue puppe with a crooked smile.

könig get's too close, enough to be the one to hold your tiny strings, he knows that you began to communicate with him not out of pity, but out of sincere interest, and that you never whispered anything behind his back, so he treats you slowly and carefully for that, gently, whispering slipping pet names right into your ear, inviting you to spend more time together, at the evening in his dorm.

everyone that night heard your whiny, keening moans, recognized your voice when you sobbed his name through your raspy gasps and quiet squeaks, innocent requests to be more slower, leaving crescent, scarlet nails of your nails along the expanse of his rippling back, small, uneven scars and freckles, clinging to könig while he pummels your slick, soppy pussy full.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[manikas-whims]

LADS Men & the type of cats they are

in honor of the new quad banner ♡

RAFAYEL (Nyafayel)

🐾 picky eater, will not eat dry food and will make a yucky face at canned food, wants you to cook proper meals everyday, and wants you to diversify the meals

🐾 will knock over every article from your work desk, bedside table, kitchen counter, etc. while looking right into your eyes with his most defiant and naughty “try me” expression 😌

🐾 usually chill but will want all your attention in the presence of others; be it cats or humans..clingy af at night..will howl outside your room’s door until you let him in and let him sleep with you in bed..

🐾 also the type to wail when you leave him alone at home to go to work, and immediately smothers you with licks and rubs the moment you come back

🐾 hisses at water, will accidentally scratch you when you try to give him a bath..yet at the same time, enjoys being pampered..he's the type who sees you doing makeup & wants you to put it on him as well 🎀

XAVIER (Catvier)

🐾 a lazy cat (cats do sleep around 16~18 hours)..one of those who fall into a deep slumber and you're just left shaking and calling him, concerned..and then he just lazily yawns and looks at you with the most innocent, confused gaze 🥺

🐾 slow blinks at you at random moments to express how much he loves you..also rubs his head against your legs and purrs, wraps tail around your leg,..kinda territorial, hisses if you smell like someone else..

🐾 loves food, is kind of a glutton..you need to stop feeding him..just because he meows sadly at you every hour doesn't mean he's hungry

🐾 does those weird cat things like sleep in awful postures, might stand on two feet and stare at you n do other weird shit lol

🐾 hates being toyed with but will immediately jump at the laser pointer lol..really sharp at spotting house lizards and mouse..will immediately catch them (topple alot of stuff in the process) and bring them to you as gifts

ZAYNE (Zaynyan)

🐾 is a gentleman and doesn't disturb you..sits nearby while you work so he can easily climb into your lap and offer comfort if you start feeling stressed or tired

🐾 not very vocal but there are days when he really wants affection, and on those days, he silently approaches you, headbutts you and meows softly, patiently waiting for you to pet him 🥺

🐾 not a talkative kitty but responds to everything you say..you call his name and he'll meow with affection, you ask if he's hungry and replies with a soft yet prolonged meow, you ask if wants to play and he meows cheerfully

🐾 very well-behaved, loves self-grooming but also never bothers you when it comes to bathing and grooming..sits like a good boy even when you're trimming his nails

🐾 does the most perfect loaf, may climb onto your belly when you're lying down and loaf onto your belly lol..is a baker kitty and will start kneading when he's feeling extra affectionate

SYLUS (Meowlus)

🐾 an outdoor kitty, sometimes disappears for a day or two and just when you start feeling a little concerned, he’s tiptoeing back in through the flap in your door..may be covered in dirt or even small nicks and cuts from fights he picks with the strays

🐾 makes you chase him around the house the moment he realises you're going to give him a bath..but the moment he's put in the tub, he's actually enjoying it..might cozy up there for far longer than necessary

🐾 very confident..do not yell at him for anything because he will growl and snarl back..doesn't like it when you scold him..also the type to catch mice n other small animals but he likes toying with them for fun 😭

🐾 there are days when you come across him meowing along to some tune..he's a talented singer, also likes to sing his meows when you're preparing his meal

🐾 will not let you pet him much..like he'll let you stroke his fur for a while and then suddenly when he gets overwhelmed by it, he will bite your hand lol (my cat does this sometimes 😭) actually likes play-biting

thank you @irandial ♡ for suggesting Zayne’s kitty name

» MASTERLIST «

[bewitchabyss]

— THE LOVE & DEEPSPACE MLS' NSFW HEADCANONS

PAIRING(S): rafayel + sylus + xavier + zayne x afab! reader

TAGS: bathroom sex + bondage + exhibitionism + fingering + marking + mirror sex + missionary sex + oral sex (cunnilingus) + riding + rough sex + sensory play + spanking + voice play

NOTES: the new set of cards is insane and you bet i'll be whipping out oneshots for them once they drop ;) anyway the grip that these cards have on me is insane, i'm on my knees frfr 🧎‍♀️

— RAFAYEL | QI YU

oh sure, he will play nice at the beginning and let you have your way — he will let you do anything you want to him. that is, until you push him to a point where he's too riled up to sit back and pretend it does not affect him at all. that's when he will uno reverse you and put you in your place.

on some occasions, he likes holding your arms over your head and watch you squirm as he thrusts into you, completely at his mercy. other times, he enjoys the sensation of your nails scratching his back, leaving red marks across his shoulder blades. after all, it's proof that he made you feel good, right?

he lives to serve you and puts your needs first before his. he could eat you out and his dick could be throbbing and call it a night.

i assume ebb day works similar to a rut cycle, so he would get especially needy during this period. he would be rubbing himself all over you and would, quite literally, take you right there and then at his doorway the moment you walk into his studio. (have you had sex on his couch before? multiple times.)

he would always check in on you to make sure he didn't hurt you in any way. he could be biting you and leaving a whole trail of hickies down your neck, but once the high is over, he will look at your neck wide-eyed, run his fingers gently down your skin, and ask, "sorry cutie, did it hurt a lot?"

— SYLUS | QIN CHE

he is big on sensory play and particularly enjoys blindfolding you during sex. he claims it's because your senses are heightened when you are deprived of sight, but mayhaps it fuels his innate desires seeing you so helpless without being able to see. ("who's the hunter now, kitten?" he purrs as he licks your neck, eliciting a choked gasp from you.)

he particularly enjoys eating you out this way. he enjoys hearing the sounds you make when he goes down on you like this and he swears you're a lot more vocal when your sight is impaired.

when you take charge, he can be an absolute brat and enjoys teasing you to push you (and himself) to the limit. you can tie him up or spank him and he would still cock an eyebrow up, as if challenging you, "oh, was that it? we both know you can do more than that, sweetie."

there have been multiple occasions where an innocent (or is it?) shower together leads to bathroom sex. he will hoist you up with his arms and lean you against the shower wall, then push his dick inside you as you wrap your limbs around him and ask him to start moving.

he is very open to any ideas you have in the bedroom, but will draw the line at exhibitionism, because, in his words, "i'm a selfish man; i want to be the only one who sees you in that state."

— XAVIER | SHEN XINGHUI

he would 100% be into mirror sex. he would take you from the back while standing in front of a full length mirror, hand cupping your jaw and guiding your head to look at your reflection in the mirror, making you watch how you come completely undone under his touch.

he is also lowkey a freak and would be into exhibitionism, but he doesn't want to get caught (or does he?). he would fuck you with your chest pressed against the glass for the whole of linkon to see (a hundred floors up), hot breaths fanning across your ears, "do you want the whole city to see you unravel under me, hm?"

he enjoys marking you up, no matter who is in power. he enjoys leaving marks in places that are subtly visible so that 1) it's within your view when you look in the mirror and hopefully it reminds you of just how much of a space you have in his heart and 2) any good-for-nothing guy who tries making a move on you will see the mark and know that you already belong to someone else.

if you're inexperienced, he will guide your hands to the places that make him feel good. he will gently lead your hand towards his lower abdomen and whisper, "try here, honey."

he likes you being rough with him. you could be aggressively biting down on him and that would probably turn him on. ("harder, my love, i can take it," he says as you push a second digit into his twitching hole.)

— ZAYNE | LI SHEN

he is not very kinky per se, but simply enjoys being close to you. he wants his hands on you at all times, and in such moments, his lips. he wants you to know what effect you have on him and how much he needs you.

he enjoys missionary a lot. zayne is a traditional lover and wants to see your face during intimate moments like these. he wants to see your every reaction to every move he makes and wants to memorise the things that make you feel good. he is very diligent and dedicated like that.

he may or may not be into roleplay, and it doesn't matter who's in charge. he enjoys it either way, and all in all wants it to be an experience that both of you enjoy. however, he does let you initiate things first because he's afraid he might overstep some (unsaid) boundaries that you might have.

we all know he enjoys having you on his lap, riding him. there have been many a time where he has had you bounce on his dick late at night at the hospital when he has late night shifts (with the doors safely locked at zayne's behest, of course). you guys also have a rocking chair in the living room for the said riding purpose.

no matter the dynamic, he would always speak in that low, breathy voice of his (very similar to a boyfriend asmr, if you will) and it always makes you weak in the knees

© BEWITCHABYSS. all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, or translate my works on any platform.

[emilys-bangs]

unspoken requests | e.p

Tags: shy!reader, fluff, established relationship, use of petnames, soft soft soft emily, severely touch starved reader, YEARN <3

Summary: In which you need affection from your girlfriend and can't find the words to ask.

Word count: 2.1k

The apartment is hush quiet. There’s still warmth to it—the silent TV blinking, the fire throwing an orange glow over the living room, lining the furniture in gilded edges. There’s warmth to it, but it’s still cold. Empty. Too much void, and not enough of your girlfriend.

You hadn’t fully realized how much Emily encompasses the apartment with her physicality, even when she’s silent. She takes up space, flows with warmth.

So even when she takes a short trip to the 7-eleven down the street, you ache.

Sitting on the couch, face tilted to the frosted window and eyes searching the streets for someone who isn’t there, you feel a ridiculous urge to bear the weight of her chin on your shoulder. The softness of her hands wrapping around your middle, her fingers cupping your sides as she’d speak into your cheek.

Your skin tingles with her phantom warmth.

“It’s ridiculous,” you say out loud, so suddenly that Sergio chirps in surprise. His furry head raises up from where it was tucked beneath his paw, the sleepy blink of his eyes making you rub a consolatory path between his ears. “Sorry, buddy.” Your voice lowers. Sergio closes his eyes on the beginnings of a purr, your nails gently scratching through his fur. “It’s stupid to miss her. Right? Totally ridiculous.” You sigh, face between your sweatpant-covered knees. “Doesn’t make sense.” 

She’s only been gone—you look at the clock—12 minutes. And while you know her list of snacks is extensive, you also know the convenience store won’t hold her for long. You only wish she was here to trace herself into your skin, leave you with threads of her perfume that wind their way between the fibers of your clothes.

Sergio purrs up an engine beneath your fingers. Though his eyes are closed you scoop him up, smiling at the bemused protest he meows out.

“Cuddle me,” you demand softly, settling his slight weight on your chest, “until she’s here to do it.”

But even when Emily does come back, your ears perking at the twist of her keys in the lock, your request remains tucked firm under your tongue. Sergio is placed carefully back on the couch before you slide across the hardwood to meet her, your smile stretching as she closes the door with a low sigh.

“Hi.” You greet, hands clasped behind your back—just in case they take over without your permission and aimlessly smooth over her thick coat.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Emily intones softly. Quick as the wind that had ruffled her hair, she leans in and steals a kiss from your cheek, her lips cold. Warmth barely spreads through your skin before she’s leaning back; distance grows between the two of you too fast for your liking, the bag in her hand crinkling as she digs a hand through it. “Got you that chocolate you like.”

“Hershey’s?” Your brows raise, your question answered when Emily holds up said chocolate bar with a grin. A jittery spasm makes your breath stutter, hands unhooking from behind your back to take it. “T-Thank you. You didn’t have to,” you mumble. 

“Sure I did,” she says easily. You take the bag from her hand to let her strip off her coat, though you rather wish it was your hands peeling it off. “It would’ve been mean for me to eat my snacks in front of you if you didn’t have any. Not fun, either.” Her face scrunches in a playful wink that you smile at.

She hangs her coat and turns, the hem of her sweater rising to expose a sliver of her stomach. That, coupled with her rosy, cold-bitten cheeks, coupled with the chocolate you’re still holding, makes you set the snacks on the floor and take her cheeks in hand. Your fingers tremble a little at your boldness; you curl them into the silky threads of Emily’s hair and kiss her. Not hard, but purposeful.

It takes both of you aback for a minute, before Emily’s hand cradles your jaw. She hums—pleased? surprised?—and the feeling of her lips curling up against yours turns your knees to jelly. Her other arm hooks around your waist, slipping home between the downy softness of your sweater. The weight of it brings you flush against her chest.

A blazing fire unfurls across your cheeks, boiling the blood under your skin as you lean back to shove air into your lungs.

“Thank you.” You say again. The hushed timber of your voice is breathless, filled with entirely too much gratitude over a singular Hershey bar.

Emily beams at you, her eyes sparkling. “You’re very welcome, dolcezza,” she says warmly. Her dimple winks at you, the flushed plushness of her lips pulling over her teeth. “If I’d known I’d get this reaction I would have gotten you the whole box.” Her cold knuckle traces over your cheek.

You think the heat emanating from your face could warm it right back up. You clear your throat, your eyes dropping from hers as you take her hand. It’s so icy your brows slip into a frown as you enclose it between both sets of fingers.

“You’re freezing. It must be arctic out,” you tug her to the living room, in front of the fire. You think the bag of snacks is left abandoned at the door.

“Arctic.” Emily echoes, dutifully letting herself be dragged. She kicks off her shoes at the edge of the carpet, and then you’re tugging her down to sit in front of the fireplace. You tuck your legs beneath you; she crosses hers, and when Sergio spots her and the triangle of her legs, he situates himself between them.

It’s odd to be jealous of a cat.

Swallowing it down, you focus on the hand in yours. It’s strangely soft, in spite of the guns she handles every day. Soft with short nails, their edges smooth and her knuckles an angry red. The rest of her skin is pale snow, twice as cold. 

“You should’ve worn gloves,” you kiss her frigid knuckles.

Emily huffs out a laugh. You don’t feel the loving press of her gaze, too preoccupied with kissing warmth back into her skin. It takes a few minutes of massaging circles on her hand before you’re satisfied. When you reach for her other one she lets you, though you’re almost desperate for them to be wrapped around your body, bringing you into her chest.

She’s your girlfriend. It won’t be that hard to ask.

At least, it shouldn’t be.

You finally drag your eyes from the hand in your lap and look at its owner. The red in Emily’s cheeks is hidden beneath the orange glow of the fire. It reflects in her eyes, amber swirling through brown so dark it’s nearly black.

She smiles and the words crumble in your mouth.

But you really, really want a hug.

“Are you…is the rest of you cold?” you ask stiltedly. Emily cocks her head, a crease settling between her brows at your strange wording. “I mean are you still cold, is there anything I can help with? Been inside all day, I’m quite warm.” You shrug jerkily, words tumbling from your mouth with no rhyme or rhythm.

Emily smiles softly. Her lashes cast spidery shadows on her cheeks, the flutter of them enchanting as she leans in. You’re briefly breathless, trapped beneath her gaze as she crowds your space. You inhale and her perfume forms clouds in your lungs.

Your heart kicks.

“Arctic out, isn’t it?” You mumble, dropping your eyes. The warmth of Emily’s hand leaves yours; her finger sidles under your chin, oh so gently tipping it up to meet her eyes.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” you squeak.

Emily grins, honey slow and Cheshire bright. “Can you warm me up?” She asks, her voice low and dulcet. Her thumb skates along your jaw, catching your uncertain pulse. 

“I guess.” You swallow. Her finger is still skimming over your pulse and god, it’s giving you away; your heart almost beats out of your chest. “Yeah, I can do that, if you’re cold.”

“I’m really cold.” She nods.

For a moment you think she’s making fun of you. Then you scan her face, taking in the firm set of her mouth and the twinkling brightness of her eyes. The way she’s looking at you is nothing short of adoring; it’s the warmth of her irises, flowing with more heat than the fire next to you, that makes you relax. She’s your girlfriend. She’s Emily—she would never make fun of you, even if it was just the two of you for miles on end.

“Well, we can’t have that,” you whisper as your arms loop around her neck, finally, finally squishing your chests together, “you’ll get sick.” The tail end of your words trail out in a sigh.

Emily’s hands find their place on your waist. She squeezes, you melt, and Sergio meows in protest and departs from her lap, leaving ample space for you. You don’t climb on top of her thighs, though; you’re more than content with slotting your head into her neck, breathing in the warmth of her.

“We definitely can’t have that.” Emily murmurs. Her voice gets muffled into your hair; she turns her head and finds your temple in a kiss. One of her hands skates up your side, finds the threads of hair at your nape. You almost purr like Sergio. “You’re right, you really are warm. Like a furnace.”

Been saving up warmth for you, you almost say. It’s not true, but sometimes you wish you could flirt with her the way she flirts with you. She constantly charms you, knocks you off your feet though you’re hers already, and from time to time you can’t help but feel the urge to do the same. Can’t help but wonder if she’d stumble over her words like you do, if her eyes would go wide and her cheeks the loveliest pink.

And when she holds you like this, you want her to stay holding on and not let go. Your brain tells you enough, let her go, but your heart yearns to get closer, burrow into her shoulder and maybe sleep there for an eternity or two. She always comes to you for affection. Maybe you could learn to do the same.

Emily’s lips find your temple again. To be fair, it’s the only place she can reach.

“Y’didnt….” You begin then trail off, embarrassment flaming your cheeks. Closing your eyes, you dig them further into Emily’s sweater and snap your mouth shut.

Her fingers comb through your hair. “Didn’t what, babe?”

A grunt-whine gets muffled into her shoulder. 

“It’s stupid.”

“I’ll bet my life it’s not,” she says soothingly, her voice a comforting rumble next to your ear. “Tell me, sweetheart, what didn’t I do?”

By the time you gather the courage to voice your thoughts, your cheeks have cooled. They start heating up again when you press your tongue to the back of your teeth.

“Didn’t kiss me before you left.” You mumble in a mortified whisper. Emily wouldn’t judge you, you know—and she would never let it show if she did—but even to your ears it sounds childish. You were in the bathroom, she was already dressed, it makes sense that she’d leave with a muffled bye through the door.

It makes sense, but you still don’t like it.

Emily’s then nudging your head up again. Coercing your eyes to meet hers, manipulating you into holding her gaze as she holds your cheeks. Your stomach twists in knots, the ones you’ve now come to associate solely with her. Your Emily butterflies.

“I’m really sorry, honey,” she whispers. Distantly, you realize her hands are warm on your cheeks. But the thought dissipates, your brain classifying it as unimportant when her lips hover above yours. “Can I make it up to you?”

“Don’t say sorry,” you manage, almost dizzy with her closeness. 

“But it’s such a terrible mistake.” Emily murmurs. Between each word, a feather-soft kiss is brushed on your lips. “I’d hate to do it again. You wouldn���t forgive me if I did, would you?”

A trapped bird flutters around your chest. You close your eyes, putting more weight behind your kiss when your mouth meets hers again. 

“I don’t think I would.”

Emily hums and takes your lips in a proper kiss. A slow one, gentle, as if she has nothing better to do than this. She takes her time, does it thoroughly and tastes the love you feel but can’t say, her lips finally warmed to the same temperature as yours. She robs you of breath, sweetly, and it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

When her forehead presses against yours, you spot the smallest blush under the glow of the fire.

“Neither would I.”

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi @temilyrights@moonlight-simp 

[redr0sewrites]

Hands...

How would the hsr characters react to an afab!reader obsessed with their hands...

🥀Cw : nsfw, heavy smut, fingering, hand kink, reader is afab

🥀 Pairing(s) : Blade x reader, Kafka x reader, Luocha x reader, Sampo x reader

🥀 minors dni

Blade:

blade's hands are rough, and he has plenty of scars littered across the pale skin

i also think that they're always super cold, and its extra stimulating when his hands are freezing against your warm skin

his hands are deliciously big and veniny as well, and his fingers are long and slender. he knows what to do with them, and his long fingers always reach so deep inside you and curl so well...

while his hands are pale, his knuckles and joints have a slight blush to them and are pinker than the rest of his hand

blade has some callouses on his palms from always handling his sword, along with thin white scars across his knuckles and larger, longer scars on his wrists and lower arms

hes the type to go slow when fingering you as his hands are so large and rough; he would never want to hurt you but his thick fingers feel so damn good inside of your sloppy cunt-

you flinched subconsciously as Blade's hand gently stroked the fluttering lips of your pussy, the freezing temperature of his fingers making you tremble as he teased you. two fingers spread your folds and he stares, mesmerized by the wetness of your dripping cunt. he gently rubs over your slit, so, so close to your fluttering hole. you clench around nothing, bucking upwards as his free hand gently holds your thighs. "be patient", he whispers huskily, "you'll get what you deserve".

Kafka:

kafka's hands are slim and fair with long, nimble fingers and sharp pointed nails. she is big on self care and keeps her hands very well-maintained, she never has any dry skin or cuts and always wears gloves on missions

her naaillllsssssssss

theyre so sharp, and they're always painted a seductive red or pink

she keeps her cuticles well maintained and always trims her nails if they get in the way of her work, but they're definitely long enough to trace and claw your sensitive skin...

kafka often trails her hands down your abdomen towards your core before even touching you, she always giggles when goosebumps rise in the wake of her nails as she scratches thin lines into your trembling stomach

"so sensitive..." Kafka purrs, circling her thumb over your clit in tight circles and watching as you squirm beneath her. "i haven't even gone inside yet and you're already whimpering.. what a slut", Kafka crooned, pressing onto your pearl as she scratched thin lines down your thigh with her free hand. you let out a needy whine, she had been toying with you for what felt like hours, and she had barely touched you. "p-please-" you were silenced by Kafka's fingers in your mouth. her free hand still circled over your twitching, puffy clit, watching as your hips involuntarily humbed against her hand. "hmm, how greedy. you will take what i give you, won't you, bunny?"

Luocha:

luocha takes very good care of his hands, he always has lotion and cream on him and cleans beneath his nails at the end of each day

speaking of his nails, luocha always files his nails and keeps them smooth and short. he does this for both of your sakes', partially for cleanliness and also for your comfort when hes fingering you

he is another one with slender hands, and he has very boney fingers with exaggerated knuckles

i feel like his hands are slightly shaky but still very strong

luocha always fingers you with intensity and the intention of giving you pleasure, and his hands are very skilled

i also think he has a few beauty marks on his hands and wrists that are lovely to admire

"relax," Luocha whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple as he curled his fingers inside of you. a needy mewl escaped your lips as you grinded against his skilled fingers, your puffy clit sloppily riding the heel of his hand as your legs trembled. Luocha's other hand came to rest on your inner thigh, gently reopening your legs as your cunt squeezed his fingers. he slipped in a third finger and you sobbed, pretty tears streaming down your cheeks. "Lu- m'close-" you whined, and a grin spread on his face. "go on then, darling, let go f'me".

Sampo:

Sampo's hands are especially nimble and swift, he is a thief after all, and his hands resemble pianists hands

they're very veiny, but each finger is thick and flexible

hes got large palms as well, hes DEF the type to compare hands with you

Sampo has nice nails too, they're a boxy shape and he keeps them short but not super short

like they're trimmed but they have the tiniest bit of length to them just for the sake of fashion

sampo has insanely steady hands, its a good trait to have as a thief and their steadiness applies to sex as well

hes also a major tease, he KNOWS how much you like his hands and will sometimes purposefully tease you by taking his gloves off with his teeth or "innocently" stroking your inner thigh...

"ya really do like this, huh?" Sampo smirked, toying with your cunt and gently running his fingers through your folds to gather your slick on his fingers. "suck," he commanded, bringing the pads of his fingers up to your tongue, watching as your own arousal dripped into your mouth. your lips pursed around his boney fingers and he suddenly pushed them in deeper, making you gag and whine. Sampo snickered, pulling his spit-soaked hand away form your mouth. "y're gonna have to work for it, poor sampo here is so tired, i don't think i can fuck my pretty doll's cunt all alone..." he sneered, bringing his hand down and shoving three fingers into your needy pussy. "now, get off on my fingers on your own, or you're not coming at all tonight".

HEY YALL! finally another hsr post lmao- i promise im working on reqs but i NEEDED to get this out of my brain. hope u enjoyed!!

[missaengg]

Servicing Lord Sukuna

Day 31 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptation hosted by @xxsycamore found here Featuring: Jujutsu Kaisen | Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader Tags: mdni, smut, pwp, Lord Sukuna, servant reader, Sukuna has two cocks, p in v sex, anal sex Prompts: Non-human characters/traits A/N: Part 2 to Massaging Lord Sukuna found here! ao3 link here.

“I won’t be done with you until morning.” 

You freeze, Lord Sukuna’s hand still gripped around your arm, the feeling of his breath still hot on your ear. His eyes bore into you, pinning you in place with their sheer intensity, and he grins dangerously. You swallow thickly. His expression is reminiscent of a predator who’s cornered its prey, and there’s no mistaking the ravenous hunger darkening his gaze. He is the hungry predator, and you are his helpless prey.

You’ve heard Lord Sukuna eats humans as all Curses did, but surely the King of Curses wouldn’t eat his own servants? Would he?

It isn’t fair. You’ve pleased your Lord. He’s praised your efforts, but he’s staring at you as if he wants to devour you whole, and while some of the servants under his rule have disappeared without a trace, it can’t possibly be because he’s eaten them… Can it?

“M–m–my lord?!” you sputter.

“Tell me, little one. You’ve never been with a man before, have you?”

What does having been with a man matter when it comes to how you’ll taste? Unless…

“No– No, my Lord.” You throw your shaking body to the ground because maybe… maybe if you remain compliant, he’ll spare your life.

Sukuna hooks a finger under your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. You can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes, and before you can stop them, they’re spilling down your cheeks.

“Plea— Please don’t eat me, my Lord,” you plead. “I’ll do– do better– I’ll work twi– twice as hard– I’ll–”

You’re babbling, begging him to reconsider because you know you can be an asset to your Lord if he’ll just give you a second chance, if he’ll just allow you to prove your worth.

“Hm?” Sukuna frowns and then breaks into raucous laughter as if he’s amused by your frantic prostrating. “Oh, I plan to devour you, brat. But not in the way you think.”

You gape at your Lord. You don’t understand what he’s saying. Is there more than one way to devour a human being?

“Your clothes have gotten quite soiled, little one. So unfitting for your King,” he purrs, his voice low and silky.

Lord Sukuna traces the outline of where your yukata parts, his long, sharp nails lightly scratching the skin underneath – his nails are so deadly, it would be more appropriate to call them claws. You should feel frightened by how they’re one whim away from gouging your delicate human flesh, but instead you shiver, the sparks flying in their wake confounding, yet thrilling. 

“Be a good girl and strip,” he commands.

Oh, he doesn’t mean devour as in food, but devour as in…

Your cheeks burn, the meaning of his words finally dawning on you. You’re relieved you won’t be losing your life, but also embarrassed because how naive and silly Lord Sukuna must think you are… 

“Forgive me, my Lord.” You scramble to remove your clothing, peeling off your drenched yukata as well as your underclothes and kneel before him as bare as the day you were born.

“Good girl.” Lord Sukuna gestures for you to join him. “Come here.”

You crawl to where Lord Sukuna lounges upon his futon following his beckoning hand until you’re seated on his lap. Something firm is nestled beneath you, and you realize with a start that it’s Lord Sukuna’s erection, still solid despite bringing him to climax just moments ago.

“Do you still wish to please your Lord?” he coos into your ear.

“Yes, my Lord,” you whisper.

“Good.”

His arm snakes around your waist, pressing you close into his impressive chest, and before you can process what’s happening, his searing lips are brutally crushing yours with a demanding ferocity. You gasp in surprise, and as your lips part, his tongue darts in, entwining harshly with your tongue, almost as if he’s trying to swallow you whole.

There’s nothing gentle about his kiss. You always assumed your first kiss would be tender, yet passionate like in the stories, but his bruising lips feel even better than any kiss you’ve previously imagined. 

He holds you so tightly you can barely breathe, what little air you can suck in being stolen by his greedy inhales, and you burn in his embrace. His body is scorching, and you find yourself lost in his blistering heat, ravaged by the flickering flames.

His hand squeezes your breast, his fingers pinching your pert nipple, and you jolt, sparks tingling from where he’s pinching and prodding your heaving chest. You barely notice his lips leaving yours and moving down your neck so consumed by the delicious ministrations of his hands, you’re shocked when he bites down without warning. 

You yelp. It stings where his teeth have viciously sunk in, but you find yourself relishing the pain, growing even more feverish from the radiating pain. Lord Sukuna soothes the mark with his tongue only to bite down again, leaving yet another blemish on the canvas of your skin.

He repeats himself, biting and soothing, locking you in a cycle of pain and pleasure. While you’ve never been one to associate one with the other, the combination has you losing your mind, and you pathetically whimper, putty in his roaming hands.

Lord Sukuna chuckles, the throaty vibrations sultry and smooth rumbling through his broad chest and rippling through your flushed body. “You like being marked by your Lord?”

“Y–yes,” you whisper, clinging to his shoulders.

You’ve lost count of how many times your Lord has sunk his teeth into your flesh, the swirl of affliction and bliss melding together until you can’t decipher one from the other.

Something swells beneath you, the hard tip of which pokes between your cheeks, and an involuntary gasp leaves your lips because it can only be one thing. Lord Sukuna’s… member is already so big, it can’t possibly get any bigger! You can’t imagine how he’d fit as it is!

“M–my Lord?”

Lord Sukuna pauses from biting your shoulder, noting the questioning fear wavering in your eyes. He smirks diabolically, clearly entertained. “Did you not know I had a second cock?”

His second…? You gasp again, your mouth hanging open and your eyes wide. What does he mean two? You barely know what to do with the one!

Lord Sukuna shifts, hauling you off his lap until the tips of both his monstrous cocks are positioned by both of your entrances. “Such a good brat, so wet for your Lord.” He’s sneering at you, delighting in your innocent distress.

You look straight into his devilish eyes, taking a deep breath to steel yourself. He’s so massive you’re certain he’ll break you in two when he enters, but you know you have to try. You have to try for your Lord.

“I will do whatever it takes to please you, my Lord,” you say in a shaky whisper.

Lord Sukuna hums in satisfaction, and both his appendages are pushing into you before you can blink. You almost faint, tears welling in your eyes. A strangled cry rips from your throat.

While your cunt sucks him in, your ass struggles to reject him, the muscles clenching securely together around the head. Lord Sukuna hisses, but he savagely drives in, bullying his thick second cock through the puckered opening until both of his cocks are nestled deep in your abdomen.

You cry – fat, heavy tears rolling down your spluttering cheeks and splashing on your Lord’s torso. You feel as though you’re being ripped apart, stretched to your absolute limits. You’re fluttering around both of his shafts, and you hear your Lord groan, his grip on your hips digging in until his nails have drawn blood.

“Tight… so fucking tight…”

You barely register the ragged agony of his hoarse grunts. You struggle to adjust to the sensation of feeling stuffed, the feeling of your organs rearranging themselves to fit both his cocks. The pain subsides, and it’s replaced by a thrumming ecstasy humming through your veins. Lord Sukuna has yet to move, but you’re already moaning, lightly rocking your hips back and forth on his lap.

“Be still, brat,” Lord Sukuna snarls.

You can’t stop. You can feel his shafts pressing together between your thin walls, and the friction of them sliding together, sliding against you is unbearable. You need to feel more.

You rock harder. Electricity buzzes through your bothered body, and you’re swept up in the irresistible lust of exhilarating ecstasy. The other ladies have always made being with a man sound so sinfully pleasant, but this… You let out a long, drawn-out groan. This is just heavenly.

“Lord Sukuna…” you lewdly moan. “Please…”

You’re barely moving on his lap, and you’re aching for more…

Lord Sukuna growls as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, the heady pain intermingling with the juddering electric tingles careening through your center. He re-positions his hands so he’s grasping your ass, and then he thrusts sharply bouncing you up and down on his lap.

He slams into you fiercely, and you see stars, overwhelmed by the white-hot heat sizzling up and down your spine, desperately mewling your Lord’s name.

“Lord Sukuna… Ngh… my Lord,” you cry out.

His hips are bucking into you at an inhuman speed, and you’re keening, practically frothing at the mouth, drool leaking from the corners of your lips.

You’ve never felt rapture like this before in your life.

“Fuck,” Lord Sukuna rasps, each word tumbling out of his mouth laced with a bite. “Such a good… fucking… brat.”

All the sensations… the sound of Lord Sukuna’s guttural grunts, the feel of his blistering body, the woody scent of his musk, the heat of his cocks… builds into an all-consuming, overpowering pressure.

Lord Sukuna’s teeth sink into you again, and as if a pin has poked a bursting balloon, you explode. You’re blinded by a vicious white light, violent tremors shuddering through your taut body.

One of your hands curls in his hair, yanking the strands wound in between your fingers, and your back arches, your breasts pressing into his firm chest, your closed eyes rising to the ceiling.

“Sukuna… Sukuna… Sukuna,” you passionately scream your Lord’s name so overcome you forget to add his title to his name, a crime punishable by death, but neither you nor your Lord realize the indecency of how you’re calling out his name.

Your screams throw Lord Sukuna into a frenzy, rutting into you even faster than his frightening pace before. 

“Goddamn… brat…”

You’re clamping down on him uncontrollably, and then you feel it… You feel his body tense under yours, and you feel spurt after spurt of his cum flooding into you, spraying your insides white and coating you with his seed. Relentless waves of his release fill every crevice and ridge, and with nowhere else to go, it spills out the sides, puddling beneath you in a torrential, sticky mess.

You slump forward, supporting yourself against his built shoulders, weakly shaking from the violence of your euphoric climax. You don’t have to see yourself to know your eyes are glazed over, your mind a muddled daze. 

Lord Sukuna gently lifts you from his lap and lays your worn out form on his futon in a manner uncharacteristic of his usual gruff demeanor. Your cloudy eyes droop half-closed. Your limp limbs quiver. You almost don’t notice him covering you with a light blanket or calling for Uraume because you’re far from lucid, so drained and spent you're barely clinging to the last shred of consciousness.

You don’t hear Uraume enter. You don’t move when Uraume lifts you in their arms. 

You’re quickly fading.

You close your eyes, surrendering to your exhaustion, but before the cloying tendrils of sleep can steal you away, Lord Sukuna’s command floats into your foggy mind. Your last thought before you drift away completely.

“Get her cleaned up and settled in the adjoining room. I think I’m going to enjoy this one.”

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Who wears the pants. || husband!John Price

[MASTERLIST]

Rating: M Words: 3.4K without the extra!! (this one got away from me, I'm sorry.) Pairing: husband!John x wife!reader CW: quick smut!, yelling mentioned, slightly dubcon (if you squint), john got angry and jealous Tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, smut, fingering-ish, slight exhibitionism, love bites and marks, established relationship, jealous!john price, anger mentioned, ghost's stirring the pot. Summary: John is embarrassed of the fact you 'wear the pants' in your relationship... But only after the lads come to stay over and a snarky comment from Simon, does he decide to show you what's what. a/n: my first attempt at writing smut that I wanted to post... Also Ghost/Simon is a dick in this one...

John simultaneously is and is not ashamed to say how much he loves you. 

Of course, he loves you to bits, finds you the most stunning woman he’s ever seen, and would kill and die for you in a heartbeat. His love was the epitome of “If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself.”

However, he would never risk introducing you to his teammates. Not if he can avoid it. And not just because he cares about you and wants to keep you away from prying eyes, safe and sound in your family home…

More like… they don’t need to know how John purrs when you scratch his beard right beneath his chin and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. They don’t need to see how his pupils almost morph into hearts equally if he sees you in one of his shirts, or in your work clothes, or in joggers and a sweaty t-shirt, or a sexy little number, or nude…

And they especially don’t need to know that their tough-as-nails Captain figuratively rolls over and bares his neck in submission when in the presence of his wife… Or that your voice is like a goddamn foghorn making him genuinely quake in a way he hasn’t since he was a boy at Sandhurst, getting yelled at by drill sergeants… 

He hasn’t left the toilet seat up in 12 years. Hasn’t tracked mud into your shared home (whose floors you had just mopped!) in 10. Hasn’t eaten the last of your snacks or used the last of the tea bags without replacing it in 6. 

There is no weaponized incompetence in your home because you know John is not incompetent and you will not allow him to feign being it to make you his maid. You take care of him and your home, and you refuse to let him disrespect you in any way… And he knows better than to try.

His teammates have no idea how hopelessly in love he is with you. With the way you seize control from him in a way he allows no one else to. Not his soldiers, not the rest of his family. He’s been the ‘man’ of the house in all aspects for as long as he can remember… But that stops the moment he crosses the threshold of the front door, hangs his coat and his gear in the hall closet, and pads through the home in search of you. 

He always finds you busying yourself with something or other and you beckon him close like a puppy, with a pat on the chair next to yours as you work at the dining table, or a come hither motion of the fingers as you water the plants, or reach your arms out for a hug as you stand atop a ladder halfway through repainting the accent wall in the living room. He always hugs and burrows himself in you, inhaling your scent, basking in your warmth, leaving kisses and touches in every inch of exposed skin.

He’s not embarrassed of you, he’ll gladly shout out to the world about his love for you. But he’s embarrassed by how he acts around you. Soap and Gaz would tell him he’s “whipped” if they ever knew what you do to him. So he doesn’t want them to meet you.

But he doesn’t have a choice. December 23rd, at 11 P.M., he and the lads have just touched down from a mission. The weather forecast speaks of a rainstorm and severe weather warnings extending right over Christmas… And John knows what he must do.

So disgruntled, your husband walks off to his office and calls you. In a low tone of voice, almost hushed, because he woke you up, he grumbles about the storm, about how Soap won’t be able to drive up to Scotland for Christmas, that Gaz can probably risk driving to Birmingham, but it’s still pretty unsafe, and that Ghost, as usual, was going to lock himself in his quarters on base and drink himself until he passes out…

You don’t need to be told again. You spring into action immediately. You simply reply that you’re getting up and getting the guest rooms ready, asking if one of the lads would mind getting the pull-out sofa in John’s study, and telling John to drive safe, that the roads are dangerous with the rain… 

It’s midnight when you hear the front door opening, and the hall light turns on, flooding the space with a bright warm-toned yellow-ish light. “Shoes off, you lot. The missus doesn’t want water or mud inside.” He demands in a gruff tone.

As they go about unzipping coats and undoing their muddy boots, you can hear John still chastising them. “I’ll stress again: I want you on your best behaviour. No work talk, no cursing, no disrespect. The missus is doin’ you a favour.” He adds as if the poor lads are children who cannot be trusted to be polite.

Unbeknownst to you, he had already spent the whole drive over from base warning them about picking up after themselves, about being respectful to you, about putting the toilet seat down, about making their beds… reaming them out as if they were wild animals who had never once been inside a house and would break and dirty up everything they touch.

You move to stand at the step that separates the lowered entryway from the sitting room, silently observing them, arms crossed as you lean your shoulder against the wall, wearing a robe and your house slippers as you look at them.

They’re all taller than you, moving surprisingly efficiently and quietly, trying not to disturb the peaceful home too much. They’re dripping wet, probably from rushing from the car in the driveway up to the front stoop. A set of four backpacks or duffle bags are on the floor by the door, their clothes for the days they’ll spend here inside.

“Give them a break, Jonathan, you can keep bossing them around in the morning, love.” You quip and you immediately feel all their backs stiffen, four pairs of eyes glued to you.

“Hi, lovie…” John says, already crossing the small entryway to wrap his arms around your waist, dropping a deep open-mouthed kiss to your awaiting lips. Your hand touches his face, caressing his cheek over his mutton chops.

“Steamin’ Jesus, the Captain’s got taste…” You hear a voice murmur, followed by a sharp ‘ow, what was that fo’?’ which causes both you and John to look at the other soldiers. The offending man, the shortest, with a mohawk, rubs at his arm, which seems to indicate the tallest one on his left side smacked him into shutting his mouth.

You don’t need to be told who’s who to realize that it was ‘Ghost’ who smacked ‘Soap’, while ‘Gaz’ stands on Soap’s other side and shoots John an apologetic look. He told you everything about them, without ever revealing names or pictures, for you to know more about them than you should. John himself as his lips pressed together, his mouth nearly disappearing behind his mustache, as he glares at the lads (aka Soap) for making comments about you.

You quickly approach the three men. “You must be the lads my husband talks so much about!” You say with a chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the men responsible for bringing my John home in one piece every time…” You tell them gratefully while shaking each of their hands with two of your own, your eyes shining a bit.

“Please, come in!” You gesture behind you into the home as you flick the sitting room lights on. “John, will you show them their rooms while I put the kettle on?” You ask your husband as you slink into the kitchen. 

A few muffled footsteps, created by socked feet, are heard as they walk inside, with John directing the boys to the different bedrooms (and study), and you hear a gruff voice murmur something about taking the pull-out sofa. You assume it’s Ghost.

Your husband then comes to hug you around the waist as you wait for the water to boil, dropping kisses to your temple and cheek, doting on you while his big, calloused hands squeeze at every part of you, your thighs, especially, but your tummy as well, along with gentle words. “I missed you so much, lovie…” “Thank you for doing this…” “You know, I can never sleep right without you in my arms…” “Just missed you so much…”

Five minutes later, you hear their steps coming back as you’re finishing pouring the water into a few separate mugs. Your husband dislodges his arms from around you. He doesn’t need the others to see he’s so crazy about you. 

“Your home is beautiful, Mrs. Price.” Gaz says as you set the tea mugs, the sugar, and the milk within their reach on the island counter. He takes one of the mugs and tops it off with some milk. The way the young boy calls you ‘Mrs. Price’ has nothing if not respect dripping from it. 

It makes you tingle on the inside, even after so many years, the realization that you’re John’s wife, John’s choice, John’s priority. Your husband preens himself a bit when he catches the look in your eye. He loves that you’re his, of course, but loves it even more that you like being his.

“Thank you, Gaz. I’m glad you like it.” You remark with a smile as you sip your own tea. Herbal, different from theirs, so you can resume your sleep which John interrupted with his phone call. 

“Aye, real cosy!” Soap quips from beside him as he slides up to a stool on the island. He doesn’t drink tea, so you didn’t prepare any, per John’s request.

“I hope the beds are to your liking… I kinda made them in a hurry.” You quip, which causes the boys, and your husband, to laugh, as they seat themselves across from you, in the bar stools. You barely even noticed Ghost taking the last cuppa and sliding up next to Johnny, his mask rolled up just enough to allow him to drink.

“We’re soldiers, ma’am, we’ll sleep anywhere,” Gaz told you, ever polite, with a sweet smile on his lips. John has told you all about Gaz, his protegé, of sorts, a respectful lad, the youngest, but one that has proved himself to be useful.

Your eyes flitter over to John for a moment, watching as he drinks his tea, two fingers laced through the handle of his navy blue mug, rather than around him, his behind leaning back on the counter beside you. While doing that, however, you miss the glances the lads exchange with each other, and then to you.

“As true as that might be…” You trail off after sipping your tea and look back at the soldiers again. “I still hope you have some good rest. And, I’m sorry about the pull-out sofa… it’s a bit old, came from John’s old apartment… Has gotta be a decade old now.” You quip as you look toward Ghost.

“It’s alright. I’ll sleep fine.” Ghost says. “Like Gaz said, we can sleep wherever.” He adds.

Soap nods along. “Anything’s better than sleeping on the ground with your rifle between your legs and your jacket folded up to serve as an eyemask.” He adds and laughs.

“Johnny.” Your husband calls out, chastising him. “No work talk.”

“Aw, c’mon, Captain, that hardly counts as work talk.” He retorts with a little boyish grin.

“Them’s the rules. No bloody talk about service.” John insists.

“John.” You scold him, and your husband stiffens next to you, his eyes flittering over to you, eyebrows scrunched and his eyes softened as he meets your eye… nothing short of a puppy.

It was stronger than John at this point, to respond to your tone of voice with nothing but a baring of his neck, not a baring of his teeth like he would with anyone else. The boys all noticed it, the way his shoulders sagged and his eyes looked at you with utter devotion.

“Let the boys talk about work. As long as it’s nothin’ too gory or confidential…” You trail off. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy ‘earing all the stories they have to tell about you at work... Right, lads?” You ask as you look at them again.

“Oh, we’ve got stories alright.” Soap says with a giggle and a wagging of his brows, which causes Gaz and Ghost to snicker under his breath.

“Well, then, regale me with them during Christmas dinner, ye?” You ask them, to which they nod along with smiles. You could swear even Ghost had one in the corner of his scarred lips.

After a bit more small talk, you kissed John goodnight, while he told you he’d stay downstairs and talk with the lads a little longer, so you waved at them while trekking your way upstairs, the boys once more thanking you for the hospitality.

The moment John’s trained ears honed into the fact the bedroom door has closed, he finishes his tea and glares at the lads.

“Don’t be bloody flirtin’ with my wife.” He tells Soap directly, though his comment extends to Gaz and Ghost as well, which is why he glances to both sides at the other two.

“Sir?” Gaz asks while blinking.

“You ‘eard me, Garrick.” He adds and points a finger at the young Sergeant. 

“We’re not flirtin’, sir.” Soap tries to defend himself.

“Aw, that’s rich that there, MacTavish, yeah.” Your husband says bluntly.

“Weren’t flirting.” Ghost retorts as he looks at John. “I was more so interested in the way she has your balls in her little purse.” He adds.

Both Soap and Gaz turn to look at Ghost with eyes so wide you’d think he just tried to kill the Captain directly… and he might as well have, the way John choked on nothing and started coughing up a lung.

The other two are trying to muffle their chuckles and hide their smirks as Simon continues. “Don’t give me that look, boss. We all saw it. Pretty thing might as well be walking you around on a lead.”

“Nonsense.” John says defensively as he snatches the cups of tea from the island and turns to deposit them all in the kitchen sink. He starts washing them quickly, shoulders stiffened.

“Bunk down.” John demands. “We’ve got plenty to do tomorrow.” He adds. The light screeching of bar stools being pulled back and pushed back into place is heard, as the boys vacate the kitchen with curt ‘Goodnight, sir’ murmured before they headed upstairs as well.

“Balls in her bloody purse, my arse.” John grumbles under his voice as he finishes doing the dishes, drying his hands, and then setting them on the island across from him, head hung in shame.

He knows Simon’s right. Hell, he revels in the fact you’ve got metaphorical balls of steel to confront him, to steal control right from under him, to wear the pants in the relationship. Lord knows it took him years to meet a woman who could not only keep up with him but put him in his place…

So why does it embarrass him so to hear them snicker at that fact? Why does it annoy him to look weak for you in front of his men? Why does it anger him that he loves to be weak for you?

Those are the thoughts in his head as he turns off the sitting room and kitchen lights and marches upstairs... And as he approaches your bedside in the dark, pulling the covers out from atop of you, exposing your body to him.

Under that robe you came to welcome them in, you were only wearing one of his t-shirts and no pants whatsoever, which he had peeped by the way your bare legs had shown through the slit between the two sides of the fabric whenever you walked.

“John?” You ask him in surprise, his breath is a bit ragged, more so huffing like a bull through his nose, as he grabs you and pulls you up into his arms, only to drop you on the bed further in the middle of the bed.

The giggle that escaped you when he did so annoyed him even more. He’s angry, pissed that he had been humiliated in front of his men, that you had humiliated him by merely existing and going about your relationship with him the way you always did…

So why are you giggling? Is he really that weak for you that you’ve grown to not fear his anger?

He grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it up and over your head, tossing it to the side before he attacks your neck with nothing but kisses and bites, his hands touching your naked body, rough skin dragging over every inch of the softness he has left on display.

“John!” You giggle some more as he keeps touching and kissing you, his body weighing down on yours, your legs parted to accommodate him. “We can’t… We have guests!” You try to negotiate as his fingers dig into the pudge of your thighs and slide around to grip a greedy handful of your ass.

You still haven’t spotted the anger in him… And, as such, your playful attempts at negotiating postponing sex only annoy him more. You’re still trying to call the shots…

His left hand wraps around your face, quieting you with a strong palm holding your lips, his fingers digging into your jaw on either side. “You’re mine.” That’s all he says as his fingers continue exploring your body.

“You think you can embarrass me like that in front of the blokes?” He asks you in a whisper as his teeth catch your earlobe and suck and bite at it. “Hm?” He beckons, his tone aggressive. “Make me look like a big girl’s blouse in front of my subordinates?” He continues.

A shiver runs down your spine as his free hand wraps around the waistband of your underwear and yanks it off, down your legs, tossing them to a random spot, barely giving you time to react before his fingers drag up your thigh.

“You think you’re oh-so-box-clever, innit?” He asks you as his fingers slowly drag across your slit, finding your clit effortlessly, years of practice aiding in his torturing of you. You find yourself moaning and sighing against his hand, hips stuttering a bit, your feet looking for a perch at the edge of the bed so you can rub yourself into his hand.

“Walking around in just my shirt and those knickers and stupid bloody robe, making my boys see how lucky I am to have you, make them jealous… Only to embarrass me, make me look weak…” He trails off and tuts loudly, his tongue clicking disdainfully.

The things he’s saying make no sense to you. You didn’t try to seduce his friends, and you sure as hell didn’t try to embarrass him! It’s just the way you always act around him, around the house. He’s never complained, in fact, he’s praised you plenty of times for being ‘perfect’ for him… So where did this change of his come from?

Frankly, you don’t know, but you don’t care… It has been weeks since you were last together, sure, but you know that’s not the main reason why you’re loving this. The unbridled rage in his voice, combined with the way his experienced fingers touch your body, is making you feel things John’s never made you feel before. Your mind is clear of nothing if not a pang of hunger for him, your hands gently pawing at his shoulders atop his charcoal grey t-shirt, soft whimpers muffled by the hard palm pressing you into silence, into submission.

“I’m afraid I’ve let you gone unchecked for too long, lovie...” He grunts in your ear as his fingers draw circles against your clit, the rough pads catching at the throbbing bud, making you whine and whimper, your whole body shuddering against him. “I’m going to fix that attitude of yours...” He clicks his tongue again, sounding all the more annoyed.

“Now you’re going to be good f’r me…” He says as he uncovers your mouth, his hand, wet with saliva, slipping from atop your mouth to grab your wrists and pin them above your head, flush to the mattress. “And make the lads know exactly who’s in charge in here. Clear their doubts...”

[MASTERLIST]

extra: 500 words-ish

The next morning, you wake up before John, as usually tends to happen when he comes back from a mission. The silence and lack of stress, the warmth of you in his arms, the cosy atmosphere of the house… It’s all the perfect sedative to keep him as good as dead for many, many hours. You slip out of his embrace and check the clock… it was just past 9 A.M. You pad quietly to the hall bathroom after fishing out a change of clothes from the wardrobe, and rinse off the sweat from the night before, as well as the dried slick and cum between your thighs. You’re still unstable on your feet, your thighs and the space between them deliciously sore, your body covered in marks of the night you spent in your husband’s arms… You feel like you’re floating as you drift downstairs and into the kitchen…  “Fuckin’ hell!” You jump, startled. In your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea is Ghost… You think. The height seems about right, though you didn’t expect a broad-shoulder, bare-chested blond in your kitchen. “Good morning.” You say softly as you shuffle inside, hearing him return that same greeting in a way-too-deep of a voice, standard of man who’s just woken up. “Go put a shirt on, this isn’t the beach.” You scold him, as you open the fridge, looking for the eggs. Your voice is as fierce as it usually tends to be with John. When he doesn’t reply, you look over at him, noticing his mask is missing. You assume John scolded him about it, how you’d likely be startled by seeing a masked man in the night. The look in Ghost’s eyes is unreadable, stern, unwavering, and eerily calm, as if he’s seeing through you. They flit over you, up and down, with a certain glint you can’t quite decipher. You straighten your back in the face of his look, portraying nothing if not confidence. Ghost leans against the counter, one hand holding his tea cup and sipping from it, the other resting on the counter to support his weight, before one of his eyebrows shoots up. “Nice night, huh?” He asks you and, immediately, you feel your entire confidence bleed out of you, your eyes widening like saucers. Of course he heard it… You’re sure all the lads heard you, especially considering John and you started right as they had gotten to their respective rooms to sleep, all of which were located in the same hallway as the master bedroom… It’d surprise you if they hadn’t… Hell, it’d surprise you if the neighbors across the way didn’t! The way John had you last night, crying out his name at the top of his lungs and making you apologise repeatedly for something you didn’t even do (on purpose) definitely leaked through the walls… Just like the shame you currently feel leaks through your pores. You turn away to fix your eyes on the fridge, too embarrassed to face him again after realizing he knows. Your brain rushes to find something to distract you, to hide what you feel… “Are you hungry?” You end up asking softly.

[elllisaaa]

desperately need you to make a jihoon version for bf thoughts huhu 😭😭😭

BF!JIHOON who sometimes gets lost in his own world, but you're always here to bring him back to reality, and he never fails to show you how grateful he is for you.

music takes such a huge part of his life, it's impossible for him not to involve you in all of this. he tried to keep it away at first - because it was work and he didn't want to annoy you. but as soon as you show him that you're interested in what he does, in how he produces his music, jihoon is more than happy to introduce you to his universe. he makes you sit on his lap while he explains to you how he creates his music step by step, and he feels both so shy and so proud whenever you tell him that he's talented or that he's a genius. it leads to him letting you spend a lot of time with him at the studio - jihoon loves to have you there because you're his main source of inspiration, and you love to be with him because it motivates you to work too. you're always the first one he shows a song to, because he values your thoughts a lot, the most important opinion is yours. jihoon has definitely written so many songs for you, or about you. one time, you listened to a song he wrote before the two of you even got together and you noticed that jihoon was talking about you. you always get emotional when he does music for you and your boyfriend melts inside everytime you listen to the songs he made for you.

"can you listen to this and tell me if you like it, jagiya ? i'm not sure about what i've done with the vocals but maybe your voice could be a cute addition, don't you think ?"

jihoon gets so sleepy around you. some would argue that it's because he often comes by after work or because his sleep schedule isn't the best, but he knows that it's much more than that - it's because you're his home, and when he learned that you tend to feel sleepy when you're with people you deeply trust and love, he was sure that you were the one. jihoon also loves it when you're the one falling asleep on him, be that on his lap, on his shoulder or against his chest, he will wrap his arms around you and caress your hair every time. he has so many pictures of you sound asleep in his arms that he cannot count them - it means that you're just as comfortable around him that he is around you, and it makes him feel like the luckiest man in the world. jihoon always gets shy when you decide to attack him with random marks of affection. it makes him blush like crazy, but he's so cute with his red cheeks that you can't help it and he's so in love with you that he doesn't stop you - plus he cannot deny how it makes his heart melt every time.

"you won't ever stop, right ?" - "never." - "good, i like it when you kiss my nose…"

he's very attentive to every detail about you and your habits. jihoon knows literally everything about you, and it's so soothing to feel this loved. he always makes sure that you feel included in every conversations, especially when you're spending time with his members. he knows that thirteen people can be a lot, so he always take care of you so that you feel heard and listened to. if you're talking about something and you stop mid sentence because you think no one he's listening, he makes sure to remind you that he always listens and he asks you to continue, fully focused on you. he loves, loves, loves when you do your nails - that he obviously pays for - and especially when they're very long because it feels so good when you scratch his back or his scalp with them. jihoon almost purrs like a cat when you do that, his eyes fluttering shut and he nuzzles his head in your neck. you love it so much when he gets so cuddly and soft, and jihoon loves to be babied by you sometimes.

"let's just stay like this for a little while, please ?"

BF!JIHOON who's sweet when he's with you, but who cannot hold back his possessiveness once the two of you are alone.

jihoon works on his muscles too much to not use them to his advantage. it all started when you began to compliment his muscles every time he came back from the gym. it fuels his ego, yes, but it also makes him hard in his shorts. to know that you find his strength attractive, to know that he could overpower you every second when you're playfully fighting, it drives him crazy. so now, everytime you piss him off, everytime you're being a brat, he's using his strength to manhandle you in every position he wants. the fact that he can do anything with your body is turning him on too. when he's fucking into you and not letting you cum, he grips your hips tightly to stop you from squirming around. when you're not allowed to touch him but you try either way, he pins your hands down to the mattress. when he's having you from behind, he holds your hips up and forces his cock into you no matter how much you moan and cry. jihoon loves to know that he's able to take over you so easily, loves to know that he can do whatever he wants from you and that you're gonna love it.

"you're not moving until i let you, you know that so why are you trying ?"

he's a producer, he loves people's voices and he loves to work with them. so it's no surprise that jihoon is addicted to the way your voice sound. he thinks it's soothing when he's stressed, and it's so sexy when he's fucking you. he loves how he can always tell how you're feeling by the sounds you're making. he drinks every noise you make - gasps, moans, wimpers, whines and mewls, he loves it all. that's the reason why he prefers to fuck behind closed doors, where he can make you scream his name without risking anyone hearing you, where he doesn't have to muffle your pretty moans that make him even harder. when you gasp and whine against his mouth when he's kissing you, he speeds up his thrusts, and when you wrap your arms around his neck and whimper against his ear, he has to squeeze your waist harder to not lose his mind. jihoon even goes as far as holding back his own moans to hear yours better. he loves your noises so much that he might put them in one of his songs, and he seriously considers releasing it, just to make it clear that you're his.

"that's it jagiya, let everyone know who's making you feel good… shit, i love your pretty moans so much."

one thing about jihoon is that he loves to hear you moan, yes, but he also likes when you're begging him, begging for him. when he's already fucking you rough and that you plead for him to go harder, it makes him lose his mind. he asks you to beg for virtually anything in bed - you want him to eat you out ? beg. you want him to fuck you from behind ? beg. you want to suck his cock ? you have to beg for it. jihoon will never admit it, but he kinda likes it too when you're teasing him in public by begging him for something simple but you both know he cannot help thinking about your words in another context. one thing he will never tell you either is that he thinks it's hot when you are the one making him beg sometimes. not gonna lie, it's not easy to get him there - you have to catch him on a day he's tired because then he lets you take care of him and ride him. but when he does beg for you, it's so attractive you just want to do it all over again. jihoon is shy about it though, and he still prefers when you're the one saying please and being putty in his hands.

"you want me to fuck you ? then you know what to say, uh ?" - "please, jihoon, please fuck me." - "that's right, good girl."

[gatorbites-imagines]

on my hands and knees begging for a victor creed/sabertooth fic. one of the finest mutants in the comics and he gets so little attention

Victor Creed x male reader

Headcanons

Love this fellow… big fan of cats… Heres just some all over the place relationship headcanons :3c

The silly… the very very deadly silly. He really has you going “what murderrrrr, he’s the best guy around???” because he’s actually nice to you. Or well, as nice as Victor can be.

You obviously know all the shit he’s done and that Victor is very much a hater down to the very bone, its very obvious. But you love him anyways. And how can you not, hes very handsome and warm.

Victor is not the most verbal when it comes to his feelings for you, like, at all. He has only said I love you on very rare occasions, and that’s when he or you are near death, or if you guys are getting married.

He shows his care and love in other ways, like beating up anyone who looks at you wrong. Or bringing you dead stuff, like some kind of big cat.

Speaking of cats. Victor purrs, because I said so. He also likes to lay and laze in the sun and will drag you along to lay against his chest as he just basks in it, rumbling deep in his chest and snoring.

Victor can sleep 16 hours a day like a cat, something you always joke about when you catch him. Logically you know it’s because he gets less sleep than he should and needs to catch up, but teasing him is just very fun.

Victor is a very gruff and mean guy in every way, hes a huge dick to say the least. Even to you, in the beginning. And the beginning of your relationship was a lot of arguing or tension. You honestly have no idea how you guys really started dating.

A lot of the issues stem from Victor just leaving whenever he wants for however long without telling you or keeping you in the loop. Theres also the issue that he just doesn’t communicate anything that might be wrong, instead just letting it fester.

But with a lot of work, you two figure it out. Sure, he still runs off to throw down with Wolverine on the semi-regular, but he gives you a timeframe he will be home, and actually looks sorry when he doesn’t make it.

At times when you are extra angry you’ll make him sleep on the couch or in the guest room, and Victor will stand at the foot of your bed, holding his blanket and looking so sad and pathetic. This should be impossible for a guy like him, but somehow, he does it.

Speaking of cuddling, I think Victor thought he wouldn’t like doing it. but then he realized how good it felt when you scratched your nails across his chest or through his hair, and that he could actually purr, since he first started purring with you.

If you are a mutant, then you have lunch or dinners with some of the x-men, if you aren’t a member. Victor gets dragged along, and he and Logan have to behave for the day. At least Victor bakes a great pie for these luncheons.

You make sure to reward him for behaving, as well as Victor is able, when you guys get home. How that reward goes depends on the day ;)

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Xavier: Cat Nap | SFW

Just a quick thing I wrote up before work because I'm brain rotting on cat men rn. Also Grammarly corrected this one so hopefully there's no typos but I'm already running late for work so I ain't got time so ENJOY.

Pairings: Xavier x Reader Warnings: Cat Xavier Fluff Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

The door to your apartment opened with the smallest click; the noise echoed through it, causing Xavier’s ears to twitch as they perked up. He had been lying contently on the couch, curled up with a pillow held against his chest while the sun bore down just right on him. He let out a yawn as he tried to peer over to the entryway, hearing the rustling of keys and your shoes as you took them off and put them over by the door. His tail swayed lazily behind him as he propped his chin on the armrest of the soda, just waiting to see your form coming around the corner.

The soft padding of your feet drew nearer until he could finally see you. He didn’t realize he had been tensed up when he heard the door, but it was apparent the moment his entire body became more relaxed as you slowly approached him. He wanted attention, and that was for sure, and you were always more than happy to give it to him.

“Are you really taking a nap again? Weren’t you asleep when I left for work earlier?” you asked with a laugh, running your hands through his hair. He was almost purring when your hand came into contact with one of his ears, your touch gentle as you scratched right behind it.

“I can’t help it; you turned me into a cat,” Xavier said, leaning up into your palm. While it was true that you accidentally turned him into a cat boy three days ago using a new evol wand that you got as a prize, he was still always taking naps. Nothing really had changed other than the fact that he wasn’t going to work until he was back to normal, which would depend on when the wand would finish being repaired, as it broke the moment you used it.

You laughed, pinching the tip of his ear, and he let out a gasp, ducking his head more into the cushions. His blue eyes watched your hand with keen interest, almost wondering if you’d be doing it again. His ears were sensitive, and you knew that. It was why you had so much fun playing with them in the first place. “Really, again?” Xavier mumbled. He could see as you slowly came around to the other side of the sofa, sitting down on it and relaxing into the cushions.

Xavier didn’t even bother asking as he got closer to you and placed his head right onto your lap. His ears twitched as he looked at you, waiting for you to pet him. A small laugh escaped you as you went back to playing with his hair, your nails scratching gently on his scalp. This time, a nice, subtle purr came from his chest as he melted into your touch, savoring every moment of it.

“You know, I think in another life, you were a cat.” You mentioned noticing just how content he was despite the current situation. He really was just a sleepy cat who was always wanting your attention. Just the other night, he had been rubbing up against you until you finally gave him and cuddled with him. He was adorable, and you almost wished the wand would never be fixed so you could keep this version of Xavier forever.

Xavier grabbed your wrist and placed the palm of your hand against his cheek, nuzzling into it as he closed his eyes. You watched his nose wiggle a bit as he sniffed your scent; the faint floral smell invaded his senses, the same perfume that Tara had accidentally gotten on you earlier that day. “I like this smell.” He murmured, licking right on your wrist.

“I wish I could tell you what it was.” You laughed, “Tara was trying to spray herself, but the nuzzle was pointed at me. I used my arms to block my face, and it got all over them.” This got a laugh from Xavier as he continued to lick at your wrist. A small shiver went down your spine at the odd sensation. His tongue wasn’t dry like a cat, so it was still a bit slimy and left a wet trail over the skin there.

“Having fun?” you finally asked after a moment. His eyes finally opened and flicked over to you. You then watched as he gently nipped at your wrist just enough to have you flinching back, “Ow, Xayxay…” you said, the ending of his nickname coming out as a whine, “Did you really have to bite me?”

“I’m just a cat; what do you want from me.” He had a small pout on his lips and you could see the way his tail was swaying happily behind him. You shook your head and adjusted yourself; Xavier let out a small whine at your new position, trying to get comfortable again.

“You know, we could just cuddle in bed. I wouldn’t mind a nap after work.” You said, looking at the clock. It was only three in the afternoon since you had to go into the office extremely early. It was nice to get off at a normal, human hour instead of late at night after fighting wanderers all day.

Xavier didn’t bother responding. Instead, his hand was seeking out your own again. You moved it out of his reach, and you watched him go for it again. His new quirks were always amusing, and you were wondering briefly just how cat-like he could get. If he’d be like this for another day, perhaps you’d invest in a laser point. You let him take your hand again, and he kissed your palm, his ears flat against his head as he looked at you with a pleading expression.

“Lay down here with me.” He said, his tone almost coming out a little whiny. You sighed as you adjusted again, getting him off your lap as you lay down. His head found your chest where he relaxed, his arms around your torso like you were a giant plushie, “This is better…”

“Alright, but we’re only napping for a little. We still need to get dinner ready.” You reminded him, but you were only met with the gentle sound of his snoring as he passed out on you.

[parisiterileymoon]

hi again okay relating to my last request/idea what about reader meeting cursed cat Alastor, luci cat, and cat Adam what would reader feel towards each of the three cats and how would the boys feel about the reader meeting their cat counterpart and maybe more headcannons avout the three cats please make specifically how they act around normal reader and cat reader? Sorry your description of cat Adam has my brain now thinking of all sorts of ideas hope you have a good rest of your day take care 😊 thanks again

Animequeen4 is back at it again with another banger

~~

•Cat Alastor•

He trots up to you with his tail up and rubs against your ankles. He then smacks and hisses at Lucipurr and catdam (you like my nicknames? Yeahhh I know you do ;] ). Every time one of them approaches he does the arched back sideways hop thing. He also sounds like the “ohhhh long Johnson” cat. Like he’s speaking in tongues. He’s casting an incantation on them. You on the other hand, he purrs like a jet engine.

•Cat Lucifer•

He will not shut up. The yappiest cat ever. Especially if you put him down. Scratches at the bathroom door. Will sit on the highest spot in the cat tower and hiss at anyone who approaches. Will kick Adam and Alastor off the little window hammock thing. Another jet engine purr. Biscuit making professional. He goes to WORK‼️ if your laying on your stomach he will make biscuits on your back. It feels incredible. He will then sprawls on your back and you’re legally not allowed to move.

•Cat Adam•

Attacks your legs. Jumps on your legs then bites them then licks them. When it comes to the other boys he’s either hoarding the catnip or knocking stuff onto them. He sits on top of the bookshelf or like the fridge or something and yells like an angry old man. “Get out of my territory you BITCH.” He also does the sideways hop arch back thing. He will make biscuits on you but his nails will dig into you and if you try to push him off he hisses and bites you.

~~

I love these fucking goobers. I need someone to draw them duking it out.

[ln4bub]

Hey ! I love how you write, Do you think you could do 3,16 and 48 of charles ? Thank you in advance and continue like that, that’s amazing!

A/N - I’m praying this isn’t too repetitive compared to my last fic but i’m proud of it so enjoy <3

sorry for the delay, I've been super busy and then got sick over the weekend but I'm back

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You had no problem being a passenger princess whenever Charles rented a car on a Grand Prix weekend. You enjoyed being able to control the music, resting comfortably in your seat as you admire your boyfriend. The way his hands wrap around the gear stick, or the way his thumbs move back and forth over the wheel when in traffic. Your sleepy mind drifts to the thought of Charles' thumb tracing patterns on your thigh instead of the wheel, his rough fingertips leaving goosebumps over your soft skin.

Your tongue slips out to wet your lips, your mouth suddenly feeling dry as you continue to roam your eyes over Charles. His jaw is clenched slightly, attempting to concentrate on the road whilst also processing his frustration over the results of qualifying this weekend. Your hand reaches out to rest at the base of his neck, gently scratching at the hair and smiling as the tension in his jaw eases. You lean over the centre console, pressing a kiss to his jaw, leaving a soft red stain in your wake.

"Tout va bien mon amour?" Charles murmurs, eyes darting over to you before quickly returning to the road. "All good honey, just thinking." You hum, your hand travelling over your boyfriend's thigh. You feel the muscle clench under your touch, his legs closing slightly. The sight makes your own legs squeeze together, dampness beginning to coat your underwear as your thoughts run wild.

"What are you thinking about cherie?" Asks your boyfriend, his hand coming to rest atop yours. The consistent speed of the motorway meant he could neglect the gears for a little bit of time. "Your hands, how they feel on my skin, how much I like the way you touch me." You mutter, words barely audible over the faint music and passing cars surrounding you both. The breathy tone to your voice was beginning to affect Charles, heat prickling the surface of his skin. Your hand was migrating up his thigh, closer to where he was starting to throb with need for you.

"What are you doing mon amour? I am driving." Charles mutters, his eyes darting to where your hand now rests in his lap. You squeeze his bulge gently, his mouth dropping open at the feeling. "Want to make you feel good Charlie, please can I?" You whisper, your Ferrari red nails scratching his neck in an attempt to get him to agree to your request.

"I am never going to say no to that, but if I have to pull over you won't be able to walk for a week, do you understand?" The dominance in his tone sends shivers down your spine and shockwaves to your core, nodding happily in agreement with his demand. "Of course I understand mon homme." You purr, the French escaping your lips making Charles harder than before. He loved the effort that you had put in to learn his language, his heart filling with joy at the foreign words on your tongue. It made his stomach fill with butterflies and shamelessly he felt his cock throb in his jeans.

You reach over, encasing the metal of his zip in your fingers, pulling to release him from the sudden tightness in his lap. He sighs in relief as your hand delves into his underwear, his cock hardening further at your touch. The weight of his cock in your hand causes you to release a breathy moan.

Leaning closer to your boyfriend, you kiss his neck gently. His stubble scratches your lips, but the quiet groans leaving his mouth as you slowly pump his cock make it worthwhile. You detach yourself from his neck, adjusting in your seat so you can lean over to reach his lap. His hand rests atop your head softly as you pull him free from bis underwear.

Your mouth waters at the sight of his glistening head, pre-cum leaking from the reddened tip. You purse your lips, press a wet kiss to the head of his dick. You feel it twitch at the sensation before you engulf his head in your mouth. Charles groans at the warmth, relishing the way you swirl your tongue, dipping it lightly into his slit to taste him.

“So good to me cherie, always want to make me feel good.” Charles mutters, eyes flicking down to his lap before returning to the road. You hum around him in agreement and he chuckles, “Don’t talk with your mouth full baby. Come on, you have until we get home to make me finish in your pretty little mouth.” You moan at his words, the vibrations sending tingles up your boyfriend’s spine.

Your mouth travels further down his shaft, leaving rings of red lipstick as you go. The salty taste on your tongue makes you dizzy, desperate for more. You double your efforts, head bobbing and tongue swirling faster than before. Charles’ cock is saturated with your spit, allowing your hand to move smoothly over what couldn’t fit in your mouth.

Charles had managed to keep the car steady, but the feeling of your soft hand wrapped around the base of his cock while the warmth of your mouth surrounded his head was making his job harder. You don’t hear the indicator as Charles pulls the car over, and you don’t question anything when Charles’ other hand threads itself into your hair.

You moan around his cock, pre-cum spilling onto your tongue as Charles moans your name. “So fucking perfect mon amour, don’t stop, gonna fill your mouth, gonna cum for you.” He mumbles, head thrown back against his headrest, neck straining.

His hips buck into your mouth, fingers tapping your head in warning. You take him as deep as you can, choking on his thick cock as it hits the back of your throat. The constriction of your throat sends him over the edge, his cum filling your mouth. You whimper at the taste, swallowing all he gives you. You keep sucking, your tongue swirling around his length as it twitches with sensitivity.

Charles groans, pulling you off his length as he pants. His chest heaves, head still thrown back as he tries to catch his breath. "Fuck baby, that was so good." He mutters, voice breathy and strained. You smile, kissing his cheek. Charles turns his head, capturing your lips with his own. "So good, but I had to pull over so it looks like you won't be able to walk if I'm done with you. Put your seatbelt on, no promises I'll follow the speed limits to get us home." He tells you.

You smile shyly, a blush coating your cheeks as your thighs clench. Your whole body tingles with excitement as Charles pulls back out onto the main road, you were hoping for this after all.

Taglist: @myownwritings

[ilovepapahet]

James Hetfield HeadCanons

The photo in the middle has me (s)creaming and I’m going to be honest I think his vocals were peak on the Load album

anyway here’s 1996/Load

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SFW

God he’s such a big softy I don’t know why I just feel like he is he’s a big grumpy cat that needs attention at all times

he loves it when you sit on his lap while he plays his guitar and he’ll ask you if it sounds good or if he needs to change anything

if your sick in bed he’ll cuddle you and make you soup and get you all the snacks you love he really wants to make you feel better when you sick

he loves and I mean LOVES it when you scratch his back especially when he rest his head on your chest or your thighs and you gently and slowly rake your nails down his back

he practically purrs when you do asking you to keep going and it puts him to sleep

his top priority is making you feel safe and happy and he’ll do anything in his power to do so

he also gets super excited when he shows you a song they made in the studio waiting for your reaction to see if you like the song

he loves your hands don’t know why he just does

He will sit on the edge of your shared bed for hours while you try on clothes asking him if they look good to which he replies with “You look beautiful in everything”

NSFW

he loves edging you and seeing you beg to cum he’ll bring you so close to cumming before just stopping right before you cum

and he loves to eat pussy he loves it to just lay down on the bed and lap at your wet folds it brings him so much joy that sometimes he can’t help himself but to grind into the sheets below him

he’ll finger fuck you impossibly fast you can’t even comprehend it your so lost in pleasure and it becomes so overwhelming you’d end up squirting all over his hand and arm

than he’ll praise you for doing such a good job

I feel like he likes slow and passionate sex more than rough and meaningless sex not that he won’t fuck your brains out he just likes is slow

he wants to take his time with you and really feel how good your walls feel wrapped around him

he’s kiss you and tell you how much he loves as he slowly yet deeply thrusts into you

the aftercare is insane he’s so loving and so caring he’s getting you water or he’s caring you to the bathtub and will clean you off washing your hair and than will cuddle the fuck out of you, you literally don’t even know how you ended up with him but your glad you did

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guys I’m about to bust the fattest nut for him

[oogalybooglay]

<you have each other…>

(Lunamoon1985’s commission!)

TW; itty bitty descriptions of violence and blood, again, an ITTY BITTY Bit.

also, you, reader, are also an experiment, why? FUN! (what animals are you? Your choice! Use your imaginationnnn)

You… lost everything… your husband and now? Your freedom…. You had been framed of murder, just like your husband.. Sebastian solace.

As if it was magic, you had the same sentence… death. The memories of your last call with Sebastian flashed through your head, him telling you he’ll still be there… watching you from heaven, you KNEW he never killed those people and neither did you! but your cries fell on deaf ears

you rotted in your cell… waiting for your final day, until…. Urbanshade decided to swoop in and pick you up, but… living in a cell didn’t really change, they turned you into a monster, changing your dna into a freak….

they said you’d be an mechanic of some kind… they knew your job before you got sentenced..? Strange…. Your were now, Z-**

It felt…. De-humanizing but at least you weren’t dead, on the outside at least…. You were repairing on some stuff, slightly dissociating thinking of your life before this…. You missed it. You missed it a lot. You missed everything, your family, your friends… Sebastian….

then… you heard a strange amount of chaos right outside the door… blood curling screams, your rush out the door and see the floor, coated in crimson puddles

you immediately started panicking, trying to avoid WHATEVER was doing this, in your panic, you fell down a floor you never knew was there….

Time skip?

You had a THROBBING headache, you lifted your head and scanned the area, it looked like some kind of.. shop? You saw a tail and slowly looked up to the figure it belonged to… a tall, eel like figure he spoke, in a……. oh so familiar voice

“Ah! You’re awake, are you alright? you knocked yourself cold out there”

He seemed to be wiping something off his nails…. But you ignored it and focused on his voice and demeanor, you mumbled in a confused but hopeful tone

“s….Sebastian..?”

the figure, perked up and looked down, lowering his hand and speaking

“w-what..? {name}?? {NAME}?!??”

You lifted yourself off the ground and exclaimed

“oh my god- SEBASTIAN?? WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?- doesn’t matter-“ you, without a second thought, hug tackled your husband,

“ack- calm down there dear, your gonna crush me”

Tears started rolling down your face, burying your face into his chest, after a little you pulled away and examined his new body, spotting the third arm and eye. Sebastian looked away and scratched the back of his head

“yeah i look uh… different… then again, you do too- wait- I didn’t mean it like that- damnit- ugh..”

You laughed a little as your husband fumbled his words, you pulled him by his collar and smooched him right on the lips, he froze up and started babbling (author interjections: head canon mention alert, head canon mention alert)

“ah- well- uhm..- hoooo boy- lord- holy..-“

you smiled, human or not, he always started babbling as soon as you kissed him, like a stun gun but wayyy more affectionate, it shut him up when he was being an ass when you were human.

Sebastian wrapped his arms, which were stronger and bigger than before because of the experiments around you and slid down the wall, sitting on his tail. Resting his chin on the top of your head, he wrapped his tail around you, his chest rumbled with a purr like sound, he mumbled something then shifted around, the fins in the sides of his skull wiggled a little

the height difference was wayyyy bigger then it was when you were human, he was at least 10ft and you? 7-6ft… no fair!

Your positions shifted as time passed, soon enough you were on the ground, laying on Sebastian, his new body was different, but you can’t say you weren’t the same… Sebastian still snored, just like when he was human, guess that never changed huh? You looked up at his large, sleeping form, looking at his angler esca, I thought only female angler fish had that? Doesn’t really matter when you both literal mutants. You slowly kissed his…. Snout? And lowered your head again to rest

you needed this, you BOTH needed this. Life was gonna be…. Different, you had each other.. and that’s all that mattered….

EEEEE I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!! SPECIFICALLY YOU @lunamoon1985 👁️👁️❤️❤️

YALL I WAS SCARED TO POST WITH BUT HERE YALL ARE. EAT MY MOTH CHILDREN! EAT YOUR SEBASTIAN SOLACE FANFICS!

[trashmouth-richie]

your touch

eddie x female reader

summary: eddie survives the “earthquake” but has a hard time adjusting to changes, thankfully you are there

“This thing… fucking itches.”

He stood in the mirror. Harsh glow of sickly green fluorescent lights accentuating his mauled torso. Scrutinizing himself, hating what looked back at him.

“It’s only temporary,” you try to reassure him, speaking with a calm voice gently stroking soft hands over his hips, “just for a few—”

“Years babe!” He says hotly, irritation bubbling beneath his temples as he stares back at your eyes in the mirror, “a few years—you say it as if it’s not a big deal, like it’ll be over tomorrow.”

‘86 wasn’t Eddie’s year.

What was supposed to be filled with celebrating graduation and possibly a trip to LA to find a recording studio who would take him and the band seriously, ended in a week's time over Spring Break.

A week that brought new turmoil, hatred, fear and devastation to Hawkins— starting with a dead cheerleader, ending with a come-to-life DnD monster wreaking havoc across the small sheltered town.

Many people died. And if you asked any living member of Hawkins besides a select few; Eddie and yourself were also considered dead.

You stroke the back of his neck—small circles scratching lightly against bare skin, stubborn stubble peeking through showing itself off.

“Honey,” you purr with lips to his back, looking at him in the same mirror he hated more and more everyday that he had been here. “You know what the other option was.”

The town wanted Eddie dead and Owens agreed that having him be just that on paper would be the safest option. A little hush government money, a silly new name— Eddie was cool with that, almost excited.

“I know, I know..” he groans, fingers raking through the thick brown beard on his chin, defeated. “But this—” he says tugging harshly, “itches and.. and fuck—”

His appearance had to change.

Hawkins wasn’t satisfied with the claims that he was dead from the earthquake, they wanted to see a body, churchgoers going medieval, calling for his head on a stake in the middle of town.

Not wearing his rings made him feel like he was naked. He hated the feeling of it at first. But what really put the nail in the coffin was when he had to cut his hair, and “possibly grow a beard if he was able to” per Owen’s requests.

You work your fingers through the tufts of his beard, gently untangling the coarse hair and massaging his chin. “You’re still handsome.”

When Eddie got down on himself he stayed there in the wallowing depths, barely above water for weeks. Finding no joy in things he used to, some days even refusing to eat.

“I’m scarred up…don’t even look like my— I can’t fucking do this.” His frustration gets the best of him, letting a fist fly into the mirror—shattering it into pieces that clank loud in the sink, some tinkering down the drain and across the tiled floor.

He curses loud as blood flows angry and crimson from his knuckles, pit pattering onto the ceramic sink. He watches it slide down into a collecting path, pooling into a mass before it deepens, staining the floor entirely.

Minutes pass, and you haven’t said a word, giving him the space he needs. Eddie cleans himself up, bandaging his hand carelessly as he scrambles trying to piece the mirror back together, maybe if he had some tape he could fix it for you.

“I’m sorry baby,” he mutters around a fresh flock of tears, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.. I’m so fucking sorry, please don’t leave me.”

He feels your hands wrap around his waist again. Cold as silk, stinging like a frostbite, comforting him the only way you could.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie hears, feeling your icy hands trace around his heart, “I’m always here.”

Sanity left him long ago, the barred enclosure taking its toll on his mind, his body. The others couldn’t understand—maybe didn’t want to understand why.

Why the inmate talked to his mirror.

a follow up to this story, the raven told me of you, is linked here