#he’ll have a black hole

[foderah]

Hello mouthwashing enjoyers :3

[imaginedisish]

Lover, You Should've Come Over (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Get ready to cry. This is based on a request I received yesterday where the reader gets jealous of Jean. I tried to take this in a different direction just because I feel like this is a popular trope that has been done by many fantastic writers. It's also inspired by "Lover, You Should've Come Over," by Jeff Buckley. Hope you guys enjoy.

Summary: You've been pining after Logan since you joined the X-Men, and you're convinced he'll never love you back. He’s obsessed with Jean—always has been. Or...maybe he's not.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, Oral (f!receiving), fingering, PIV (unprotected...pls WRAP IT UP THIS IS FICTION!), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, f!reader/afab!reader, telepathic!reader, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan (kinda? yeah.), non-canon compliant (you'll see what I mean...no spoilers), cursing, angst, feelings, implied mutant trauma (kinda a given in X-Men), probably some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,197 sorry

Wanting someone you can’t have—it’s that crying in the shower, pulling your legs into your chest, screaming into your pillow kind of heartache. You’ve come to know the feeling intimately. It’s an awful, horrid, stomach-churning kind of pain.

But you want him. Despite all the pain, you want him. Logan Howlett. You can’t seem to keep him off your mind. For the few months you’ve been one of the X-Men, Logan has been a constant. He’s always there—whether it’s to train or just to talk. But you know he’ll never want you. You see the way he looks at Jean. You wish you didn’t. You wish you were oblivious to that sort of thing. But you don’t need to use your telepathy to reach inside his mind for proof—you just know. 

You keep holding on, savoring every moment, every interaction you have with Logan. You sit on the lawn of the mansion with him, watching the sunset. You’ll come down to the living room late at night to find him sitting in front of the T.V. and join him. Sometimes he’ll drape an arm around your shoulder. He’ll draw circles into your side as you drift off. You’ll wake up the next morning back in your bed, Logan having carried you there long after you’ve fallen asleep. 

You’ve decided you’ll take all he’ll give you, even if it means nothing to him—even if it's platonic. 

But tonight, you wish something would come up through the floor and swallow you whole. A void, a black hole maybe. That would do the trick. Disappearing would make everything so much easier. The second-best thing to disappearing is sitting in the kitchen of the mansion, alone, with a pint of ice cream. You decide to practice your powers, moving the silver spoon with your mind, concentrating as you dig the spoon into the top of the pint and into your mouth. 

You hear a warm, familiar chuckle from the doorway as the spoon lands on your tongue. You look up, and there’s Logan, arms tucked across his chest. “Wish I could do that.”

You can’t help but smile around the spoon as he strides over to you, taking a seat on the stool next to yours. You slide the spoon out of your mouth and rest it on the napkin next to the ice cream. “Hey,” you mutter, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

His shoulder brushes against yours. He’s so close it hurts. You try to shove the pain down and enjoy the moment. 

“Was hoping I’d run into you down here. Thought maybe you’d be in bed already,” Logan says, his eyes locked on yours. 

You shake your head, doing your best to keep that fake smile plastered on your face. “Couldn’t sleep.” 

You can see the sudden concern appear on his face. “Everything okay?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. Fuck, you think to yourself. Maybe he’s catching on. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, looking down at the ice cream. “Just still having a hard time adjusting.” It wasn’t a lie. You had always struggled with your powers, longing to hide, to shove them down. Your whole life, you were either a freak or something to be used—whatever was most convenient in the moment. The struggle between visibility and forcing yourself to be “normal” was an impossible battle. You were no stranger to being taken advantage of or being experimented on.

Logan was the first person who understood that—understood you. He made you feel seen in a way that no one ever had. It’s part of the reason you’ve fallen so hard for him. 

His hand is suddenly on your back, yanking you from your thoughts and back to reality. “I’m here,” he whispers. “Whatever you need, anything.” 

Anything. You wish he really meant it. 

“Thanks, Lo.” You smile up at him, letting your eyes linger on his lips for just a second before looking back down at the ice cream. “Want some?” You ask, nodding at the pint. 

“Only if you feed it to me the way you did when I walked in.” You can hear the smirk in his voice as he taps the spoon. You side-eye him incredulously. “I mean it. Wanna see you do it again.” There’s a husk in his voice, a shift in his timber that sends a chill down your spine. You try not to think about it too much as you pick up the spoon with your mind. 

You guide the spoon inside the pint, scraping the top, and lifting it up towards Logan’s mouth. He opens wide as you lead the spoon inside, his tongue hitting the bottom as his lips close around it. The implications of the moment don’t dawn on you until he’s grabbing the spoon with his hands and sucking on the metal. There’s something undeniably suggestive about this. 

Heat rises to your chest as you replay the image of him taking the spoon into his mouth in your mind. It’s so intimate, so domestic. And, certainly, something else—something that makes you tick, that makes that familiar fire grow deep within your belly. 

But—like always—the moment doesn’t last long. You wince, feeling someone itching against your thoughts, prodding at your mental shields, begging to be let in. Suddenly, there’s another voice in your mind. 

I gotta try that myself. You flinch at the sound, taking the spoon from Logan’s hand and shooting it across the room to where you sense the person’s presence. You turn around, and there’s Jean, resisting the spoon’s trajectory with her mind. 

It's almost pressing into her skull, shaking in mid-air, ready to break her skin. You gasp and drop the spoon, embarrassed to have registered her as a threat. “I’m so sorry,” you say, watching as Jean crouches down and picks up the spoon. “I didn’t know that was you in there, I swear.”

You expect Logan to stand from the chair and rush over to Jean, but he stays next to you, glued to your side, the palm of his hand resting gently on your back. “Jean.” His voice is firm, almost cold and harsh. “What was that?” You’re surprised at how curt he’s being with her, surprised he remembered that you’re sensitive to people probing around your mind, even if it’s friendly. 

Jean mutters a curse. “I was just communicating with her. I didn’t think she’d—” 

Logan stands, his hand still steady at your back. “Don’t do that again. Ever.” His voice is louder now, heavier. 

She whispers an apology, setting the spoon on the counter and walking towards the doorway. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you,” she says. “I should’ve remembered given your…” she pauses, searching for the word, “past…that it wouldn’t be a good idea.” She takes another tentative step. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she says, and she slips out. 

Logan settles back into the stool next to you. You’re shocked that he’s still here, that he hasn’t run away yet. You can hear him breathe—in and out—gentle, long breaths. You close your eyes and listen, the sound calming you down. You’re still expecting him to leave, to walk away, but he doesn’t. 

“You okay?” He asks, your eyes fluttering open, his voice hanging in the air. His head is tilted to the side, worry painted across his face. 

“Y-yeah. I’m fine,” you stutter, your voice cracking. “You don’t have to stay with me. You can go check on her if you want.” You nod towards the doorway—to wherever Jean wandered off to. 

“And why would I do that?” Is all he says in return, furrowing his brows. 

You put on that fake smile again. “I almost jammed a spoon into her forehead because she spoke to me telepathically.” You shake your head. “Don’t really think my reaction was particularly friendly—or something that good people do.” You break eye contact with Logan and look to the other side of the kitchen. “Plus, you two are…close.”

“Hey.” His voice is firm again, but gentle this time, reassuring. His hand slips across your back and rests on your waist. You’re so shocked by the contact that you almost miss what he says. “First of all, she knows better. Charles warned her about what you’ve been through. And second…” He trails off, smirking at you. “I’d rather be with you.”

Oh? Oh. He’d rather be with you. 

“I just thought, you know, you and Jean were…” You’re too embarrassed to finish the sentence and too nervous to hear him say the words you’ve been dreading most. 

He shakes his head, that smirk still spread across his lips. “No, it’s not Jean I want. Never has been.” 

Your breathing becomes shaky—your heart beating rapidly in your chest. “If it’s not Jean, then—” 

Logan cuts you off as he suddenly moves. His arm lifts from your waist as he stands, turning your stool around so your back is against the cold countertop. He’s gripping the arms of the stool now, caging you in. Your mind is hazy—you can’t concentrate with him this close. 

“You think I do the shit I do with you with Jean too, hm?” He’s towering over you, his head cocking to the side, his voice self-assured and confident. “Think I’m watching movies and sunsets with her? Carrying her to bed, too?” 

You’re overwhelmed, dizzied by his words, his size, him. “Just thought that—”

“Just thought what?” He cuts you off again. “That I didn’t want you, darlin’?” He brings his lips to the shell of your ear, one hand moving from the counter to your hip. “Wanted you this whole time,” he huffs, goosebumps rising on your arms. “Only you.” He presses a kiss to your ear, and then just underneath your jaw. 

“Logan,” you whisper. “W-want you too,” you choke out, your hands coming up and around his back. “B-but someone’s gonna walk in on us.” 

He’s ignoring you, biting your pulse point lightly and licking the pain away. “Let them,” he husks, refusing to stop. You instinctively bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, your nails digging in slightly. He groans at the contact, his chest heaving against yours. 

“One of the kids is catch us in here, or somebody else,” you mutter, his face still buried in the crook of your neck. “W-we should—”

“Go to my room.” He finishes your thought. 

“Please.” 

And then he’s picking you up from the chair, his hands under your thighs, grabbing your ass. You wrap your legs around his waist as he prowls out of the kitchen. He looks both ways as he crosses the hallway and makes his way to the stairs. There’s no one in sight. He carries you up the steps and down the hall to his room, practically breaking down the door as he swings it open and slams it shut. 

And then he’s laying you down on his bed, crawling over you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Wanted you in here sooner,” he murmurs, his lips just inches from yours. “Hoped you’d come over one night. You should’ve.”

His lips crash down onto yours before you can find the words to say. He’s starving for you, swallowing your moans as his hands slip under your shirt, his nails digging lightly into your sides. “So fucking beautiful,” he rasps against your lips. Everything is desperate and rushed, hands pawing at bare skin in the dim light of his room. 

Logan tugs on the hem of your shirt, rolling it up your body and over your head. He tosses it to the side as he sits up on his knees, taking you in. He curses under his breath, looking you up and down. 

“Logan,” you whine, arching your back. You need his hands on you again, his lips. Something. Anything. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes, his fingers hooking inside the waistband of your shorts. “Gonna take care of you.” He yanks them down your legs, leaving you in just your bra and panties. 

He pulls off his own shirt, tossing it carelessly, letting it get lost on the floor. He settles back down over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand finds your waist. He slides up to the bottom of your bra, teasingly pulling on the fabric before slipping his hand behind your back—skillfully unclasping the bra with one easy motion. You arch your back again, the bra straps sliding down your arms as Logan tosses the bra to the floor, too. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, his hand tracing the curves of your breasts, massaging gently. “Perfect.” He captures your lips in another kiss as his thumb ghosts over your nipples, just barely giving you the relief you need before pinching softly. The pressure feels so good, so right, but it’s not enough. 

He draws circles around your nipples with his thumb, the sensation feeding the aching fire between your legs. Your hips involuntarily lift off the mattress, meeting his. “Need me that bad, huh?” He is always so incredibly cocky, even now—especially now. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and what to do next. 

Logan grinds his erection into your core. You can feel how big he is, the weight of him heavy against your cunt even in his jeans. You clench around nothing, whining his name as his strained cock teases your panty-clad pussy. “You want me to make you feel good, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter, biting your lips as his hand leaves your tits and sweeps down your stomach, stopping just above your clit. He slides his fingers down just a bit more, feeling where your arousal seeps through your panties. 

“Already soaking for me, sweetheart.” The bassy timber of his voice stokes that flame deep within your belly. Without warning, he’s hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and yanking them down your legs. “Can’t wait anymore, pretty girl,” he whispers. “Wanna taste this pussy.” He kisses your belly button, leaving a trail down the rest of your stomach as his mouth travels to where you need him most. 

There’s something depraved about the way he’s crawling down your body, taking in every inch of you. He spreads your legs apart with the palms of his hands—his thumbs brushing against your bare skin, licking teasingly at your inner thighs as he settles in between them. 

He pauses, looking at you under hooded eyes. You can see the want—no, the need—in the way his muscles flex and how he works his jaw. But he’s hesitating, his breath hot against your core, sending another jolt of desire through your body. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your eyes searching his for his next move. 

He finally presses a kiss to your clit. “You don’t understand how you make me feel,” he mumbles against your heat, licking a long stripe through your folds and back to your clit. “No idea how long I’ve fucking wanted you.” You throw your head back, whimpering his name as he laps again and again. He’s starving, and you’re the only thing that can satiate his hunger. His tongue swirls around your clit, flicking it, taking it in between his lips and sucking hard. 

Your hips lift off the mattress and Logan quickly moves to hold them down. “You’re not going anywhere, darlin’,” he grunts against you, the vibration of his voice going straight to your core. 

His free hand slips up the inside of your thighs, teasingly climbing higher and higher, his nails skimming your flesh. He’s toying with you, leading you on, taking his time. His fingers finally ghost over your folds, exploring you, stroking up and down as his tongue laps at your cunt. 

Logan prods your entrance with two fingers, slipping in just a bit, testing the waters. “Please,” you beg, pushing your hips down in an attempt to sink his fingers deeper into you. He stops you, his hand still firmly holding your hips down, refusing to give you the release you’re dying for. 

“So fucking impatient, aren’t you?” He tuts. And then he’s shoving two fingers all the way inside you, down to his knuckles. “Such a pretty pussy.”

“F-fuck!” You cry out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he sets a relentless pace. He’s drinking you in, sucking roughly, his long fingers pumping in and out with a vengeance. 

“’This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks condescendingly in between laps. You’re too fucked out to form a sentence, your legs trembling underneath him. You know he’s loving this—loving that you’re a wet, needy, whimpering mess. 

Your walls squeeze around his fingers, your swollen clit throbbing as he laps at you. You’re so close already. “Lo,” you call out, fisting the sheets of his bed. Everything in here smells like him: pine and mint and musk and tobacco and that thing that’s uniquely Logan. It’s all so overwhelming and overstimulating. You’re ready to fall apart, to melt into nothingness. “S-so close.”

He squeezes your hip. “I know, sweetheart,” he soothes, his pace unwavering as his fingers fuck into you, scissoring inside you, drawing you closer to your climax with that come-hither motion he does so well. Your walls flutter again. “That’s it,” he coos. “Wanna feel you come—wanna know what it tastes like.” He licks harder, faster. “Let go for me, darlin’.” 

He pushes you over the edge, pleasure warming your belly as you let go. It washes over you in waves, his fingers still pumping in and out, his tongue still hanging on to the taste of you. You ride it out, his thumb brushing your hip, coaxing you through it. His fingers slip out of your cunt, but his head is still buried between your legs. You shudder as he licks long, slow stripes through your folds. 

“So fucking sweet,” he growls, still starving for more. “Not done with you yet.”

Fuck. 

But you need more—need his cock deep inside you, pounding into you. You need him in front of you, his lips on yours. 

“Logan,” you whine, your voice shaky and trembling just like the rest of your body. He finally lifts his head, his hair a disheveled mess, your juices glistening on his lips and his chin. The sight of him makes your breath hitch in your throat. There’s a feral, needy look in his eyes. He’s starving for more of you, and you’re not quite sure he’ll ever get enough. 

But he can see your chest heaving and the desire in your own eyes. He knows what you need—he always does. He sits up on his knees, staring at you while he slowly unbuckles his belt. The tension is palpable, the clinking of his belt against the hardwood floors cutting through it like a hot knife—the only sounds the melding of your quick breaths and the shuffling of bed sheets as Logan finally comes up to meet you. 

He's balancing on his forearm as he unbuttons his jeans, undoing the zipper and shoving the denim and his boxers down his legs. You swallow at the sight of his cock springing against his stomach. You had felt his erection before, but he is far bigger than you ever anticipated. 

With one hand on his cock, he lowers himself in between your thighs. You instinctually spread your legs for him, inviting him in. He nudges against your entrance, taking his time. 

His forehead meets yours, your chests flush against each other’s, panting in sync. You’re both waiting with bated breath, his tip slipping inside, but stopping short before going any farther. 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Thought I’d never have you,” he confesses, pushing his tip a bit further in. “Would’ve given up anything for this. Would’ve waited forever.”

“You don’t have to,” you murmur.  “I’m right here. I’m yours.” 

“Mine?”

“All yours.”

And then he’s pushing deep inside you, down to the hilt, bottoming out. He swallows your moans with a kiss, biting your lip, drawing blood, and licking it away. “All fucking mine.” He stays buried inside you, unmoving. “Wanna stay inside you forever, sweetheart,” he growls, your heart bursting at the thought.

He pulls himself all the way out and all the way back in, stretching you out, working you open. You look down in between your bodies and watch as his cock disappears inside of you. “Feels s-so fucking good,” you stammer, already drunk off him. 

“Like watching me fuck into you?” Logan husks, picking up his pace, his hips snapping into yours. 

“Y-yes,” you whimper. His muscles flex as he ruts into you. He takes the hand that was on his cock and brings it in between your bodies, his fingertips quickly finding your clit and giving it a soft pinch. Your back arches off the mattress at the sensation. 

Logan hums at your reaction. “So sensitive,” he groans. “Taking me so good, sweetheart.” You can feel him losing control as he rams into you, his thrusts growing harder with each pump of his cock. He’s drawing firm, fast circles into your core. 

It’s all too much, him, his cock, his fingers. Your skin is on fire, your nipples pushing against his chest—the friction absolutely delicious. You’re already so close, just a few steps away from the ledge, and you’re ready to fall. 

“Know you’re close, darlin’,” Logan moans in between kisses. “Can feel you squeezing me.” 

You hum in response, but Logan refuses to let up. His pace is beyond brutal, pounding into you over and over again, his fingers working your clit in tandem. Your muscles contract around him, gripping tightly. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “So fucking tight, so fucking warm.” His praises are more than you can handle. “You gonna come on my cock, just like this?” 

“Yes, fuck, Logan!” You’re a babbling mess, his name the only thing on your mind, on your lips, hanging in the air like it’s a sacred prayer. Everything is him, and it always has been. In this moment and in every other, he is your end and your beginning. 

 “Let go for me, sweetheart. Know you can do it for me.” His deep voice is all you need to walk you through it. You’re breaking down, coming on his cock, the pleasure coursing through your veins, spreading like an untamable fire. 

He’s stroking your clit long after you’ve come, still snapping his hips into yours, still working up towards his own orgasm. His pace is getting sloppier, but he shows no signs of stopping. You can feel yourself growing overstimulated, his cock rubbing against your walls, his fingers circling your clit. “S’too much,” you whine, your nails digging into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. 

Logan presses himself closer to you, as close as he possibly can be. “You’ve got one more in you, sweetheart,” he coaxes, not letting up. “Know you can take it.”

You’re breathless, clinging onto him helplessly. You’re clamping down on him again, taking him deeper than you did before. He’s hitting that sweet spot with every thrust. “Lo,” you whimper. “I’m gonna—”

“I know, darlin’,” he grunts. You can feel him throbbing inside you. “Let it happen, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” 

The tension is snapping again, breaking in half as he pulls another orgasm from you. You shudder as you come for a third time, overstimulated and beyond fucked out. You know he’s close behind, his hips slowing down, his forehead pressed against yours. He slips his hand away from your clit and around your back, pulling you closer to his chest. It’s so intimate, so perfect. 

“F-fuck,” he mumbles. “Where do you want me to—”

You hold him closer. “Stay,” you whisper. “Want you inside. Wanna feel you come.”

“Oh fuck,” he mutters, plunging deep inside you, his muscles tensing as he fills you up, your name on his lips. His thrusts slow, pumping in and out every now and then before finally stopping. 

You stay like this for a few minutes, his arm keeping you tight against his chest, his cock still buried inside you and your foreheads still pressed together. 

He brings a hand up to your cheek, his thumb brushing gently across your skin. You sigh, your eyes fluttering open and closed. 

He shakes his head. “I always wanted you,” he says, his voice low and raspy. “The whole time. It was only ever you.” 

His words could make you cry. It’s everything you’ve ever hoped to hear. You smile, his hand finding its way to the crook of your neck, his fingers lightly stroking your sensitive skin. “Can’t believe I didn’t see it,” you breathe, your voice laden with sleepiness. “I never knew. Thought you’d never want me.”

“I’ll always want you.” His cock finally slips out of you, leaving you feeling empty. His legs tangle with yours, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “Would’ve waited forever for you, darlin’.”

“Forever?”

“Longer.”

[maladaptiveobsession]

“Magic pocket pussy”

Synopsis: DOL NPCS acquiring a magical pocket pussy synced to you.

Contains: afab!gn!reader, discipline, multi penetration, noncon, overstimulation, somnopihlia, toys

Words: 588

A/N: I only differentiated yandere!sirris from his normal conterpart as he is the only character I can imagine having drastically different behavior for this particular prompt. You can’t convince me Gwylan isn’t cooking up magic (probably illicit substances as well) in their shop. Something about them feels underlined with nefarious intent. I’d like to flesh out this concept with some of the characters at some point; there’s so much nuance and potential.

Abuses the hell out of it

With access to your cunt at all times, your pussy will be consistently puffy and raw from abuse. He’s stuffing you with cock whenever the urge strikes, torturing you with toys when his dick can’t keep up with his libido. He purposely teases you at inconvenient times. Watching you struggle to maintain composure in public is his favorite pastime. Most nights you wake up to the feeling of an invisible cock dragging along your gummy walls. If for whatever reason he can’t torment you at night, the pocket pussy is being stuffed with a vibrator so you wake up drenched in the morning. He’ll insert random objects throughout the day of various sizes and shapes, all to watch you squirm. Sometimes he’ll cram the largest dildo he can find inside to see you waddle around town in discomfort. He’s likely to fill the silicone hole with a dildo or vibrator of some sort—possibly both or even multiple of each—and then fuck you for real with the toys still inside. Really though, seeing your reactions is his favorite part of all. While your real pussy will always reign supreme, there’s a charm to watching you break apart without even actually touching you. The fleshlight is just so convenient.

➥ Anxious Gaurd, Briar, Kylar, C!Sydney, Leighton, Morgan, Quinn, Scarred Inmate, Whitney, Wren, yan!Sirris

Generally only when you’re not available

He doesn’t usually care for toys (why bother when he has you), but this one is an exception. It’s hardly a replacement for the real thing, but he can at least admit the convenience is alluring. It’s not all too often it gets used, but there are times when he misses you and can’t resist. It’s just so easy to punish you for being away for too long or simply to remind you of them. He could always just shove a vibrator inside and forget about it if he feels like it. Watching you fall apart without touching you proves enjoyable, as well. There’s a possibility he could even order a custom dildo, a replica of his length, to stuff the silicone cunt with, so you seek them out sooner. No chance you can forget about him when you can’t even sit. This opens the possibility of double stuffing you using only their dick. The longer you avoid them, the less patience and willpower they’ll have, therefore being less likely to wait.

➥ Alex, Avery, Bailey, Black Wolf, Eden, Great Hawk, Gwylan, Harper, Landry, Methodical Gaurd, Niki, Relaxed Gaurd, Remy, Veteran Gaurd, Zephyr

Only once in a moment weakness

He’s rather unlikely to use any toy, let alone a magical onahole. Just owning the thing feels like a breach of trust, but they can’t risk having it fall into anyone else’s hands. It sits in a drawer, hidden away until he eventually forgets about it. It’s not until he’s humping a pillow in the pitch dark of his room that he remembers it exists. He’ll scold himself, suddenly too ashamed to feel horny. Days will go by, constantly plagued by curiosity. When he finally concedes, apologies will spill from his lips as he rocks his hips into the silicone. It feels so good, and he wonders if you’re feeling the same. More than that, he wonders if the real thing—the real you—feels this good. His orgasm is the most intense he’s ever felt, electricity taking over him and his essence flooding the silicone imitation of you. The post-nut clarity is potent, mortifying. He’ll avoid you for some time after that, unable to even look you in the eye for even longer. Shame creeps along his spine like a parasite, vowing never to lose control like that again. Below the guilt, desire grows and bites at his willpower. Who knows how long it’ll be before he gives in again?

➥ Charilie, Darryl, Doren, P!Sydney, Jordan, Mason, Mickey, River, Robin, Sam, Sirris, Winter,

Bonus

The likely creator of said pocket pussy

➥ Gwylan

[sadhours]

kinktober day four • somnophilia

aka: hell bent

eddie munson x fem!reader

kinktober masterlist

cw:18+, minors dni, smut, somnophilia (duh but therefore could be perceived as dub con but readers into it), cannabis use, dry humping, fingering, spanking, unprotected p in v, creampie

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Eddie wakes up abruptly, eyes flying open as he sits up. His heart is beating a mile a minute and he’s out of breath. Clutches his chest as he realizes what’s happening, that the dream he was having wasn’t real. Looks down to his crotch to see the proof. Yeah, he’s most definitely torqued. Turns his head to your sleeping figure next to him, the object of his lustful dream. He huffs, lays back down and wills his boner to go away.

Turning to the digital alarm clock on his nightstand, he sees it’s just after three in the morning and well, he thinks it’d be really rude to wake you up and ask for sex.

But then ten minutes pass and he’s still hard. He sighs and pushes the blankets off of him, walks over to his black pail and opens the lid. Eddie grabs the bag of weed and his pipe, stocks the bowl with pieces he grinds up between his fingers. Opens his bedroom window and is met with the smell of rain, drops of it cascading down the glass. He lifts the pipe to his lips and his lighter to the weed, flicks on the flame and inhales deeply. Holds the smoke in his lungs for a beat before exhaling it out the window. Repeats that a handful of times until he feels stoned, sure that now he’ll be able to sleep. So he crawls back into bed, lays on his back and stares at the moldy ceiling.

He’s trying his best, he really is but you’re breathing so soft and pretty next to him. So he turns to look at you, watches you sleep and then wonders how you’d react if he just… reached over, down your sleep shorts and rubbed your pretty pussy.

Yeah, there’s no shot this hard-on is leaving unless he does something about it. Eddie exhales, annoyed with himself but too turned on to talk himself out of it. He rolls over, positions his leg between yours and reaches for the hem of your tank top. He pulls it up over your tits and looks back up at you, waiting for your eyes to blink away. You make a sleepy sound, a little whine but don’t wake. Eddie lowers his mouth to your exposed tit and licks against your nipple. Flicks his tongue against the hardened bud a couple of times and then sucks it between his lips.

Somehow you don’t wake up, but you’re breathing harder now. His hand moves to give attention to the other tit, thumb grazing that nipple as he sucks and licks the other. Can’t help the way his hips grind down against your thigh, giving some much needed friction to his cock. He keeps doing it, rolling down against your thigh as he spoils your tits. In the meantime, grinding his thigh against your core.

A moan falls out of your lips, but Eddie’s watching your face and you don’t seem awake so he keeps going. Switches to the other nipple with his mouth, rutting down against you in slack desperation.

He pulls back, props himself up on his knees and shoves his briefs down his thighs and then reaches for your underwear next. Gets the pair of you naked from the waist down and then curiously reaches between your thighs, middle finger prodding against your hole and he groans deep at how wet you are. Slips the digit inside you and that’s when you wake, just as he’s curling it up.

“Eddie,” your sleepy voice fills his ears as your eyes blink up at him. “What are you doing?”

“I want you,” he gushes out, pumping his finger in and out of you slowly.

You smile and hum in flattery— and pleasure from the way he’s fingering you. “What time is it?”

“Middle of the night,” he exhales, cock grazing against your thigh and the friction makes his stomach tighten. “Sorry, I just… fuck, I need you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, spreading your legs wider for him as you assure him, “You have me.”

He crashes his lips into yours, kissing you hungrily as he slides another finger inside of you. Causes you to gasp into the kiss but you kiss back. Eddie feels like he’s held off long enough, pulls his fingers out and grabs hold of his cock. He positions himself between your thighs as he strokes himself, spreading your slick all over his cock. Then, he’s lining himself up with your entrance, jerking his hips forward because really, he can’t help himself. You cry out, back arching from the sensation as his thick cock sinks into your warm and soaking cunt.

And Eddie doesn’t hold back, he’s too worked up to, and he pistons his hips hard and quick against you. The sound of your skin slapping rings throughout the room, along with the slippery sounds of him dragging against your walls. His hands grab your thighs, push them up against your chest as he pounds into you.

Repetitive and high pitched moans escaping you with every slam of his hips. You gaze up at him, moonlight shining on his pale skin and dark hair that sways with his motions. The look of determination and pleasure on his face is beyond sexy, his jaw clenched with his brows furrowed. You reach for his biceps, trying to feel grounded while the euphoria threatens to take you away.

Then his lips part to let out a whiny, needy moan. You wonder what’s got him so worked up in the middle of the night but you’re more than happy to give him what he wants— whenever he wants it. Feels just as good for you.

He pulls back, pulling his cock out and rubs his thumb against your clit in circles as he tells you, “Up. Want you from behind.”

You obey quickly, rolling onto your hands and knees, arching your ass up to him. Eddie grabs hold of your hips, grinds himself against your ass before slipping his cock back inside your cunt. Another moan pours out of you. This positions a catch 22– it feels incredible but you can’t see him. You bounce back against him, moaning loudly as his cock sinks in and out of your pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he says behind gritted teeth. Then he smacks your asscheek, leaving the most delicious stinging sensation in its wake.

“Oh, fuck, Eddie!” you cry out, dropping your face to the sheets beneath you as you try your hardest not to melt into them. But god it feels so good, your whole body feels fluid.

He spanks you again, fingers gripping the fat of your ass upon contact. You can hear him panting and groaning. Eddie drills into you, his hips slamming against your ass over and over with the most satisfying and filthy sounds. He leans over, keeping up his pace as his lips find your shoulder, planting a sloppy kiss against your skin before he sinks his teeth in. Bites you as his hips slam into you one last time, has your hips meeting the mattress with him laying on top of you. You feel him fill you up. His teeth pull off your flesh and he pants against your ear, “God, that was fucking great.”

You let him come down from his high, then he pulls himself off of you and rolls you onto your back. Eddie presses his thumb against your clit, eyes on yours as he works his thumb in quick circles.

“Want you to cum for me,” he whispers.

A simple, dazed nod from you as you gaze up at him. Focusing in on your orgasm, cunt pulsing around the cum he’s filled you with. Eddie slips two fingers inside you, curls them every time he thrusts them inside and your vision starts to get blurry as you feel the pressure building quickly in the pit of your stomach. He latches himself on your tit, sucking and licking your nipple as his fingers work absolute magic.

“Eddie,” you moan out softly, eyes crossing before they close and your climax crashes into you intensely. You cry out and grab hold of his head, knitting your fingers into the roots of his wavy hair and tug. Body freezing before your back arches as he works you through it.

Eddie nuzzles his face in your neck and giggles all soft, hand on your hip now and he squeezes it.

“Thank you,” he whispers and kisses your skin.

“Shh, thank you,” you turn slightly to kiss the top of his sweaty head.

[parkersbliss]

the 141 and the really weird or random quirks I’ve decided they had

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x female reader 

warnings: suggestive content, like sexual content but not smut

a/n: I have zero reason for doing this expect I wanted too?? and got carried away with suggestive aspects of it which is funny cause I don't write smut lmfaooo. so mostly fluff and based off real quirks people I know have.

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

—

Price:

no matter how many times he cleans the bathroom, his beard hair is everywhere. obviously he keeps that shit well groomed but it’s always somehow stuck on your face after you wash it, or on your shower loofah or towel. and you've tried and he’s tried to clean it and it never works. 

loves gnomes. you have ones in the garden, the front yard, in your house for EVERY occasion. I’m talking christmas, easter, halloween, thanksgiving. he has a set for every season and it honestly scares you a little. one year he bought a giant one for your christmas tree as the topper and it made him so happy so you just accepted it.

doesn’t like to celebrate his birthday. He’s so much of a giver he downplays it every year. If you guys have kids, he’ll buy something for them ON HIS DAY just to take the attention off. so he kind of hates gifts, but he’s not going to not accept that. Would prefer you don’t, even though he bought you a $20K pearl necklace for your birthday. (You’re still afraid to wear it)

leaves you on heard. all. the. time. you ask him something, like as he’s sitting next to you and just … silence. sometimes he even nods, looks at you and then turns away. you’re not sure if it’s something to do with his hearing or he’s just so relaxed at home he just doesn’t comprehend sometimes. “hey, baby, what do you want for dinner?” “mm.” 

average dad experience of sharing a hotel room and brother is snoring. you know what I’m talking about? the cold A.C turning on and off and mf just be out and it’s so loud you have to wear ear plugs. you wonder if he has sleep apnea at some point bc he can’t be real. 

but don’t worry, he’s just as loud in bed bed ;) and he makes it known when you’re going at it 

Ghost:

too stealthy for his own good and always scares the shit out of you. and he’ll try to be loud too, knocking on doors AND still isn’t loud enough. He always feel so bad but it’s also so funny to him bc he really does try to not be so quiet. 

owns the same black t-shirt, like at least 5, but claims one of them is just softer and better than the others. you’ve tried them all on and there is no difference to which he mumbled something about you not having the special sense??

cat whisperer. you’ll adopt a cat while he’s gone bc you’re lonely and you spend all the time with the cat but no. cat loves ghost more. He’ll sleep on top of ghost, but never you. he’ll follow ghost around the house, but not you. it’s very infuriating. and ghost has no idea why bc he’s around 1/2 the time you are. 

has a whole cabinet for his bourbon collection. and a special glass cup AND special spherical ice for it. he doesn’t even drink that often, but it was absolutely necessary (to him). 

he’s a clean freak. very routine in how and when he does laundry. Bed sheets on this day, dark on this day, etc. he won’t let you do any of it. If he loses a sock, he throws out the other pair. as soon as there’s a hole in something, he throws it out. 

nov. 1st is christmas to him. the tree is already up, no questions asks. there are no thanksgiving decoration in this house. he also has multiple trees, one by the entrance, one in the living room, one in your bedroom. 

has definitely fucked you under the christmas lights by the fire. begs you to wear bow lingerie so he can quite literally “unwrap his best gift” 

Gaz: 

loves the lego car sets. his home office is decorated with all his medals AND the lego cars. has definitely left pieces out that you stepped on and then proceeded to scream his ear off.

begs you to play fortnite with him. you think he’s batshit crazy “that’s literally your actual job” “no but the raging kids makes it fun and we can match skins” (he means the banana skins btw) and he’s a troll. he doesn’t take the game seriously, he just wants to torture little kids and make fun of you when you can’t figure out where the shooting is coming from. or when you throw down a med kit instead of splash. 

cannot get through a movie without fucking you and it’s always during the good parts so he’s got you in doggy and you’re still trying to watch the movie??

Instigator fr. he’s not toxic but like he’s gonna argue. Has literally once said to you “I’m not arguing I’m just explaining why I’m right” to which you stared at him and asked if he was stupid 

always ask for hot sauce or sriracha at restaurants or if he can get something spicer. he eats buldok noodles with the whole sauce packet and then proceeds to sit in the bathroom for an hour while you scold him. 

reckless driver to the max. you fear for your life when you’re in a car with him. He speeds (within reason he claims), he makes quick merges and switches lanes fast. he does use a turn signal so you let it slide bc he’s risky but not THAT risky. 

obviously, he has horrible road rage. you’ll be calling him while he’s driving and it’s all normal and then “OI YOU FUCKING SHITE DO YOU HAVE A LICENSE?” you just sigh and then he answers you like normal, “yeah I think I’m out of toothpaste too.” 

saves every selfie of you from snap and his rotating ones as his wallpaper. even the ugly ones you beg him to take out. like any guy, he’ll claim it’s his favorite and then it’s a 0.5 of you eating ice cream and it’s dripping everywhere and your eyes are half closed. 

Soap: 

leaves sticky notes everywhere to remind himself of things. anything. “need olive oil” “missing one blue sock” “(Y/N) wants thai takeout” “call ghost” “laundry” 

and sometimes they’re not even correlated to where it should be. like the note that just says “laundry” will be in the kitchen. and he stacks on top of those sticky notes with more. “did laundry” “bought more socks” it drives you insane

he's obsessed with blankets. He has a designated like basket/bin or blankets in the living room and your bedroom. He sleeps with like three. and he’s got heated ones, sherpa ones, weighted ones, etc. absolutely collects the different printed ones for each holiday. 

loves to go decor shopping with you, but only because he wants to pick out the ugliest things and see your reaction as you swat at him and tell him to put it back. only for him to sneak it back into the cart and you death glare him. 

If you need to rant, he resumes the whole “omg girl, period.” personality. he loves gossip and he loves doing facemasks with you as you talk shit and drama about your coworkers. 

he's so “wait I have to tell my gf this” bro will literally be on a mission and gets a cut? “I have to tell (Y/N).” the room exploded? would take a selfie and send it to you, if possible. sees a weird shaped potato at the grocery store? Sends a picture. Falls down the stairs? you're getting a picture of his broken foot. hard? here's a dick pic just for you babe

uses the same hydroflask water bottle that’s dented, has sticker residue and chipping on all side. “It’s reusable, that’s the point” he claims. you're not sure if he’s ever washed it and you certainly aren’t going to open it and find out for him. 

[eggrolls-and-fandoms]

Nonono you don’t get it you don’t get it. The wildcard player winning wild life, and it’s the first win that doesn’t feel tinged in grief and sadness. He still hears his friend’s voices, he laughs, he triumphs, he finally wins. It’s celebratory, it’s wonderful, it’s a blaze of glory, it’s wild. And he doesn’t fit neatly into what the Watchers want and picture - he could be a comet, a black hole, a chariot, and he crashes through it all and screams that he doesn’t need anything but himself. Setting a new precedent, changing the series, changing the winners forever. Changing what it means to be a winner. It’s his, after all. He’ll make it wild. And hey! The fandom is ours. Draw him as a comet, as a black hole, as a car, as something else entirely. Write him as triumphant, as grieving, as manic. Do whatever you want!!! Have fun!!! Make it wild!!

[morphean42]

Edwin Payne in Hell taking every chance he gets to picturing his family members faces as to not forget them. Edwin Payne in Hell writing down list after list of his favourite things (books, foods, songs). Edwin Payne in Hell scribbling his name in the margins of his notebook because he took too long to remember it last time, what if he forgets it altogether?

Edwin Payne in Hell, slowly loosing himself over 73 years. Edwin Payne in Hell, unable to remember what it is like to talk without screaming, what it is like to hear laughter without being filled with fear and the knowledge if he doesn’t run now he’ll be torn apart again and again and again.

Edwin Payne in Hell, studying his hands every time he wakes up in another body. Did he always have a freckle just there? Edwin Payne in Hell, ripping a hole in the wall between the Dollhouse and Gluttony, desperate to escape yet plagued by the fear that perhaps there is nothing left to escape to.

Edwin Payne in Hell, mapping out his horrific reality, trying to escape only to realise he’s further down than ever. Edwin Payne in Hell the sound of his femur snapping the closest thing to a lullaby he can imagine as his eyes slip shut yet again (but they snap open again, right away, in time to watch the last him he torn to shreds, because there is no respite, no rest, only running, only endless dying).

Edwin Payne in Hell noting every sin he can think of committing and praying for forgiveness. Edwin Payne in Hell cursing God for leaving him here, then letting himself be ripped apart for the thought. Edwin Payne in Hell knowing there must be a reason he is here, after all.

Edwin Payne in Hell, waking in yet another body to run yet another time, realizing he cannot recall the smell of baked beans or the faces of his parents. Edwin Payne in Hell when he has to wonder if perhaps he was a creature of this darkness, his life before a cruel hallucination.

Edwin Payne in Hell losing first the sound of his mother’s voice, then his own. Edwin Payne in Hell, was his hair brown or black? His eyes green or grey? Edwin Payne in Hell, was he sure he was still Edwin Payne? There are bodies all around him and one day he might suffocate under all the limbs that used to be him and maybe he’s lost a bit of his soul in every version of him that has died down here, how much longer can he rip apart his very being until there is simply nothing identifiable left?

Just, Edwin Payne in Hell.

[rumisgf]

YOUR BEST EATER ! - JJK EDITION

summary: jjk characters i think can eat pussy the best and who i think would not. that’s really it, i’m telling yall who the munches are. enjoy some pussy eating headcanons :D !

warnings: explicit obviously, black!reader, discussing f!receiving oral, use of the title daddy (once), cursing, slight crack, slander but i’m kidding kinda

GOJO SATURO - 10/10

✧ he’s sick in the head.

✧ i hate him truly. he gives good head and he knows it.

✧ he loves making it messy, he wants your arousal all over his face

✧ he wants it on the sheets by the time he’s finished

✧ he also likes making you cum multiple times, so don’t expect mercy

✧ he gets a kick out of watching you squirm and writhe under his touch

✧ and not only is his tongue magical, but he knows all the methods to make you scream for him

✧ he uses fingers and all that

✧ he’s definitely made you squirt from head

✧ the type of head he gives will have you soaked before he even fucks you

✧ yk the song that’s like ‘i’m the type of guy that’s gon eat it ‘fore i put it in?”

✧ yeah, that’s gojo

“one more, princess? hm?”

“yesss- please ‘toru!”

“good girl.. want you to make a mess all over my tongue”

GETO SUGURU - 9/10

✧ he’s a good contender for sure

✧ he’ll act like he doesn’t want to at first but it’s all a facade

✧ he can’t let you know he’s a fiend too early of course

✧ but when he finally does, boy are you surprised

✧ toe curling. jaw dropping.

✧ he’ll have you creaming on his fingers while he sucks on your clit like a madman

✧ it hurts so good and you never want him to stop

✧ and he licks your clit so attentively, he looks at each facial expression you make

✧ he draws perfect circles with his tongue

✧ it’s definitely not his strong suit (but shit that’s saying something)

✧ i’ll give him his flowers though for sure

✧ he gives the type of head that has you aching for him to put his dick inside you already

“taste so fuckin’ good. love this pussy, baby- ‘s all mine.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO - 8/10

✧ he’s one of those guys who swears up and down he doesn’t eat pussy

✧ he does.

✧ first time he went between your thighs, you thought you saw god

✧ whenever your hips lift up and you start squirming from all the pleasure, he presses them back into the mattress

✧ and he edges you while giving you head

✧ he’ll have you screaming then stop just to hear you beg for him to let you cum

✧ he’s still a sadist at the end of the day, he can’t let you have too much fun

✧ either that, or he overstimulated you until there’s literal tears streaming down your cheeks

✧ he loves making you cry from head

✧ if he’s not having you gag on his dick as he throat fucks you, this is his other way to see tears stain your pretty face

✧ whenever you squirt from him giving you head, he feels very satisfied with himself

✧ he can never give head for too long tho because the sight of you dripping pussy right in front of his eyes makes him so hard it hurts

“stay fuckin’ still brat. let me taste this pussy.”

SUKUNA RYOMEN - 2/10

✧ he doesn’t eat pussy.

✧ yeah, sorry.

✧ he’s a literal demon idk what else was expected

✧ in all seriousness, he’s not too fond of giving head

✧ but, he does enjoy fingering you though

✧ his fingers are often plunged into your hole while make out sessions and it’s his go-to for foreplay

✧ he’ll have you on his lap and play with your cunt until you’re crying

✧ and if you have toys, he loves overstimulating you with him

✧ this is often how he punishes you (sometimes he just feels like it, though)

✧ but long story short, this man will NOT be your best eater

“ry- fuck! daddy please- can’t take it!”

“nuh uh, this is what you wanted doll. let me take care of ya.”

NANAMI KENTO - 10/10

✧ if gojo’s not your best eater, nanami’s definitely your best eater

✧ he’s got every tongue and finger combo down packed

✧ he gets down. he do NOT play.

✧ he’s definitely a pleasure dom at heart so he believes you deserve good head from him

✧ and he also doesn’t talk at all while giving you head

✧ it’s almost amazing how focused he gets

✧ his form of communication is looking up at your fucked out face, filling his ego

✧ he likes eating you at after he fucks you

✧ that way he can fuck his cum back into you with his tongue and taste your arousal at the same time

✧ it’s also a way to overstimulate you that he can be slick with

✧ whenever you’re in missionary, he always has your legs bent to your ears so he can pull out and lap at your pussy whenever he wants to

✧ it’s a rush getting fucked into oblivion then getting your soul snatched as he slurps up all your juices

✧ he also enjoys how wet he makes you, so you taste so good when he does

✧ he spits on it. that’s all i have to say.

“k-kento.. so good..”

CHOSO KAMO - 11/10

✧ OHHHH LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING

✧ you thought i wouldn’t put him above gojo and nanami? you’re wrong.

✧ this man is a munch. he’s a fiend. it’s pathetic.

✧ he’ll eat pussy on his knees, matter of fact he loves it

✧ he loves when you trap your legs around like yes please don’t let him breathe he might nut right then and there

✧ he whimpers while eating you out.

✧ he won’t say it, but he likes spelling out words in your clit

✧ he mostly just spells his name

✧ and he loves how you taste, so he can eat you out forever

✧ you have to tap out for him to stop because he really has no self control when it comes to eating you out

✧ and please, sit on his face.

✧ and actually sit on it. this man doesn’t wanna be able to breathe

✧ he’ll leaves fingerprint marked bruises on your ass cheeks from gripping them as he works his tongue from under you

✧ him eating you out always has you squirting before he even fucked you yet

✧ he also enjoys tasting the mix of yours and his cum after he fucks you

✧ choso gives head so good you wanna have his kids

“babyyy- ‘m c-cumming!”

“f-fuck, taste so good baby. need you so bad.”

@ rumisgf

[seiwas]

bakugo can’t sleep until you’re home.

it’s weird and wholly unexpected of himself, staying up past the bedtime he’s spent his entire youth following. but then, he guesses, that’s just one of the things you’ve managed to affect in him.

there’s no reason he should feel this uneasy; you share your location and reply regularly. your last message to him was 5 minutes ago and you’d even sent a selfie.

he knows the people you’re out with, knows the place your friends have chosen to party in. there are plenty of reasons for him to believe that you’ll make it back home safely.

but there’s always that one probability, that one off-chance that something happens—that something goes wrong.

he shuts his eyes, turning to face the ceiling after an unsuccessful 30 minutes of attempting to sleep on his side. his breathing speeds up ever so slightly, chest rising and falling in tandem with the thumps growing louder in his ears.

bakugo fidgets every time he blinks underneath his closed eyes—little zaps beneath his skin telling him to stay awake, stay alert; stay on his toes.

it must be the hero in him.

a large exhale, before bright red burns through the ceiling—he stares so intently at the space above him it’s a wonder a gaping hole hasn’t formed from it.

the pillow to his right is still empty, but it smells so much like your shampoo, his senses are playing tricks on him. comfort accompanied by worry.

he huffs out, finally getting up to slip his feet into his house slippers—a pair of fluffy orange he wouldn’t dare be caught in.

(but it’s from you, and it matches your black ones too.)

he paces around the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of cold water. the time on the wall reads 1:34 in the morning—he has to be up in 3 hours for an early start at the gym before patrol.

you’d told him he should go ahead and sleep but he can’t—he never can when he’s thinking about you.

a yawn escapes him, eyes watering. he might as well be productive and look over some of yesterday’s—

then you enter the door.

you’re a little bit of a stumbling mess as you turn the lock behind you, toeing off your heels on the genkan while holding onto the walls for support. you barely notice him until you spot those familiar orange fuzzy slippers in front of you.

“g’na fall over like this,” he mumbles, voice rough as he follows it with a tut, “stay still.”

before you fully realize it, he’s already knelt to the floor, cradling your ankle on his thigh with a gentleness reserved just for you.

“katsuki,” you whisper in surprise, “you’re still up.”

he hums, pressing his thumbs all over the sole of your foot before picking up the other.

“couldn’t sleep.”

he’ll spare you the details, the thrum of his heartbeat steadying, slowing now that you’re here with him. he yawns again, eyes starting to feel just a bit heavy. comfort and relief.

it must be because he loves you, he thinks.

[paintedonmyteeth]

Mr. Gap as Your Portable BF!

Welp, the people wanted Mr. Gap so I give Mr. Gap HCs (I’ll do Mr. Silvair another time, maybe this Friday or smth), I’m gonna do both a switch of MC and Mr. Gap in the Otherworld and maybe do some sorta twist towards the end like the Blissful Love Life ending from Mr. Crawling’s route except Mr. Gap became a stowaway fbejbfjsndjbsd

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Gap being the fucking prankster he is, always doing the 'funny haha' because he thinks it hilarious just having a pair of organs for literally no reason. It gets hella annoying at times but HEY! He can be pretty helpful at times.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Gap is a bit of a braggart I mean like— the guy literally showed you a little newspaper clipping with his face in the photo and just dipped without another explanation.

⭑.ᐟ — Because Mr. Gap’s pretty much able to go wherever he pleases since he’s popping outta nowhere from the holes in the wall, a box, and literally anything that has a gap in it. So he’s got an eye on you at all times even when you least expect it, mostly just watching from places that’s out of your view.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Gap probably doesn’t like Mr. Scarletella much, the guy’s pretty weird anyhow for actively tracking you in the Ghost Apartments, so he may give a hand every now and then whenever you run into him. If you’re ever near any places with a hole in the wall or a vent of course.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Gap the first time he’s getting any affection whether they’re like small kisses, head pats, or you try to hug him, he would be a little against them at first tbh. Then he’d disappear for some time then and the next time he shows up he’s asking for kisses or whatever. Major cat behaviour stuff.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Gap probably appears under the covers whenever you’re dead asleep just to leech off of your warmth, by the time you’re waking up he’s already gone.

⭑.ᐟ — It’s somewhat better than Mr. Gap asking if he could take your fingers, your heart, or any of your body parts, but don’t think he’s gonna stop asking for those.

⭑.ᐟ — Your whole relationship with Mr. Gap at first is kind of questionable at best, there’s sort of a love hate thing going on your end but Mr. Gap doesn’t hold anything against you, he just finds you interesting and fun to tease sometimes.

⭑.ᐟ — Now imagine Blissful Love Life from Mr. Crawling’s route except Mr. Gap decided to tag along unbeknownst to you, you later got a jumpscare from Mr. Gap appearing in a drawer.

⭑.ᐟ — This man’s making an absolute ruckus around in your house, making you go on the wildest goose chase for any of your belongings, it’s even more difficult and annoying whenever Mr. Gap takes something the morning as you’re getting ready to go to work. He doesn’t want you to leave, he wants you to stay. Fuck your job even, those people don’t treat you right anyways. >:(

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Gap absolutely DETESTS getting bathed, the first time trying to get him to clean up was unsuccessful as he holed himself up somewhere in the walls of your home. He didn’t show up for a day until his mood was less grouchy.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Gap goes against whatever you tell him to, mostly. But he will listen if you’re that firm about it. He’s DEFINITELY not listening whenever you tell him to stay at home, but it’s too boring at home just staying there with Mr. Crawling! He’ll just tag along with you to work anyways.

⭑.ᐟ — Since your boyfriend (??) is also portable, you can have him chilling in your bag while you go about your day, a nice bonus being he can keep whatever pickpockets or thieves from stealing your things. And nobody would want to touch your bag unless they want to get bitten or lose a finger or their whole hand.

⭑.ᐟ — Your bag is basically a black hole now with Mr. Gap in it, he’ll give you whatever things you’re trying to look for but also keep them from you until you give him a kiss. If you don’t, it’s bye-bye to your wallet/phone for now.

[pinkmirth]

i think adrian would get hard just from cuddling with you

MIDNIGHT CRAVINGS, adrian ‘alucard’ țepeș!

❤︎ ₊ ˙ ⊹ 900+ words of . . . nsfw/smut, alucard x fem!reader ( black coded! ) established relationship, spooning, unprotected sex, creampie, minors shoo!

the simplest of affections are enough to rile up the poor man. what can he say? he’s a devoted lover! when you’re underneath the silken sheets of alucard’s grand bed, with him spooning you from behind, his arms wrapped around your middle as your body heat radiates off of him, he can’t help but grow . . . excited. he doesn’t think he could react any other way, being this close and intimate with a beautiful woman he loves.

adrian’s lean hips shift a little against your backside, and it isn’t long until you notice the his stirring cock prodding at you, settled between your clothed asscheeks. you can feel the subtle, steady pulse of his underside through your flimsy nightgown. you hum knowingly, feeling your own arousal grow, and he meekly apologizes with a deep, airy whisper to your ear. you welcome it, though; reaching behind you to slink your arm between your bodies, all to grab hold of him through his pyjamas.

adrian’s breath catches in his throat, holding back a rising groan, and you turn over a little to send him a sweet smile, one that embarrassingly makes his cock jump. god, he always reacts to every little thing you do; you just seem to have that effect on him. your fingers curl around the length of him, tugging down and swirling back up with a pace that makes his hips buck into the warmth of your soft palm. there’s a glint in your eye as you work him, one that shows him you want this— want him.

you steadily jerk his throbbing cock, and his grasp on your hips only grows tighter with every stroke. slippery precum spurts out from his mauve-pink tip and dribbles down, wetting your fingers as they massage his shaft. adrian doesn’t think he can take this for much longer— at this rate, he’ll end up orgasming from your hand alone. alucard pants into the crook of your neck, licking and nibbling at the skin there. his moans have a delicious rasp to it, and the shameless sound makes you throb.

“wanna put you inside,” is your soft confession, and who is he to deny you? the thought of being enveloped by your warm, tight cunt is enough to make his mouth water. he flits out his tongue to swipe over his fangs, releasing a shaky breath.

“of course, my love,” adrian gives in, flipping up the hem of your silk-white nightdress. his large palm encompasses the fat of your ass, kneading and squeezing before he goes to hold his cock at the base, lining up with your quivering hole. he starts slow when pressing it in, your wet entrance kissing his sensitive cockhead. adrian sinks in deeper, and he swears he could cum solely off of hearing you whine out his name so sweetly.

alucard kisses the delicate skin of your neck, his hand lifting up your side to cup your left breast and graze over your pebbled nipples. he starts making good work of you; fucking into you from behind, sucking love marks onto the delicate canvas of your flesh. he’s panting into your neck, and the feeling of his cock driving into you with such an undoing pace has you moaning out, rutting your ass back into him as a feeble attempt to match his thrusts. the momentum of his pistoning hips soon grows restless, almost overpowering.

resounding smacks of his pelvis to your backside begin to fill the room and echo off the walls. it’s almost as loud as both your sounds combined; his shuddering breaths and your broken mewls. his quickened pounding makes your back arch further, ass jutting out and rippling against his plunging hips. he slinks his hand forward, swiping the pads of his fingers against your needy clit, pressing tight circles into the puffy nub. “a—adrian!” you cry out, trying to pivot your face around to kiss him.

you’re then blessed with the sight of your beautiful husband. there’s beading sweat built up at his hairline, stray blonde hairs that have fallen into his face, the seductive flutter of his lashes, a scatter of blush that’s overtaken his cheeks, and his pale-pink lips that are trapped underneath his sharp gleaming teeth before your mouth desperately collides with his.

you moan into his mouth, and adrian takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside, his thin blonde brows drawn downwards when he feels you clench around him. he pulses in return, swapping spit and suckling at your lower lip, swallowing up all the pretty sounds that pour from you. you feel yourself toppling over the edge, and it isn’t long until you’re creaming all over his cock. you let go with a silent gasp and your eyes screwed shut. he fucks you through it and lovingly coos into your ear, staring into your face when you convulse around him; your plush, agape lips, the cute furrow of your brows, and he glances a bit lower to ogle the delicious curve of your spine down to your butt.

a few more pumps and adrian finds himself unraveling. a raspy moan is what marks his climax, lowly whines falling from him when he cums. his tight grasp around your waist is still there, though it loosens with the dazed sensation that comes tug an orgasm. you bask in the feeling of his warm cum spurting into your womb, filling you up nicely. you pout once he slips out of you, a stream of cum spilling down your puffy cunt.

alucard frees out a deep sigh; one of content. again, you tip your head back to kiss him, a calmer one this time. he returns your affections with gentle pecks, mumbles “i love you’s” onto the soft pillow of your lips, caressing the curving plane of your hips. he’s sure that you both know he couldn’t possibly get enough of you.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Hiiii, I loveeeee ur work ❤️

I was thinking about a head cannon of how some of the mw2 characters (ghost, soap, König, etc) would react to their partner sending them a nude photo?👀👀👀

Sorry if you did this already but I’m pretty sure you haven’t tho cuz I definitely would have read it already 😭

MW2 Reaction to Receiving a Special™ Photo from Their S/O

Warnings: 18+ (just to be safe), Non-Specific/Explicit Implications of Smut, No Pronouns used for Reader except 'You', Singular Mention of Graves Throwing Himself off a Cliff, Dominant! MW2, Submissive! MW2, Dominant! Reader, Submissive! Reader, Profanity, etc.

Ghost

He will literally stare bug-eyed at the picture you’ve sent him like 👁️O👁️

Since it’s a physical photograph, he keeps it on him like a chapstick, which is to say all the time.

He isn’t risking ANYONE besides himself seeing it.

And when he’s about to embark on a mission, he keeps it tucked into his vest right where his heart is so that it’s practically part of him.

He likes to think that, somehow, you can hear – feel – his heart beating, know that he’s still alive and fighting so that he can come home and see you.

And when he returns from a mission and goes to his quarters, he has some…alone time.

You know, to really study the picture.

Not that he doesn’t know every curve and edge of your body already.

But that doesn't stop him growling your name into the pillow as he rocks against it, a hole cut into the bottom of it – a poor imitation of you.

A makeshift lover.

If anyone ends up seeing that picture – if they stole it from him, if by some act of God (because that’s what it’ll take) it slipped out of his vest or pocket – they are in for a World of Pain™.

There won’t be a time they won’t flinch upon hearing Ghost’s name, or when they see his shadow like an omen on the wall as he commandeers the halls. Prowling.

He’d feel pretty guilty about someone else seeing you how he does, even if it was only for a fraction of a second.

So he’s definitely going to make it up to you when he gets back <3

König

His heart can’t take this kind of torment.

He’ll be looking down at his phone, the image of you burning into his skin like a holy artefact.

He definitely gets more jumpy around people when he has his phone on him.

Will literally clam up and shove it into the deepest recesses of his pocket if someone comes too close.

Even when your picture is safely stored behind a password-protected photo album.

He has to excuse himself from training or other commitments whenever his mind wanders back to you, and subsequently that image (which is basically all the time).

Sometimes he calls you while he’s sorting himself out.

He just needs to hear your voice – to feel closer to you.

It’s the only way he can finish.

“Engel,” he rasps, his breath stuttering, “I need you,”

And everyone just looks at him like he’s grown a third eye when he returns because, unbeknownst to him, König can’t keep quiet, and everyone who has never heard even a peep from him is suddenly aware of the carnality that lies beneath his skin, wired into his soul.

And at the centre is his love for you, boundless and overflowing so that the rest of his teammates know it, too.

Not that they mind all too much.

They all sit and think that you must be one beautiful person to evoke such a response from König.

Soap

Will tease you back.

Sends a mirror pic of him in a tight black shirt, saying something like ‘You’ll see the rest when I get home.’

Is absolutely ravenous when it comes to you.

No cap, goes absolutely ham in the shower when the image of you in nothing flashes in his mind.

His low moans are enough of a warning for the rest of the 141 to stay away for the next half an hour or so.

Aside from that, he’ll just look at the picture because he finds you beautiful.

Stares at it while he’s in bed. Laments on how much he misses you ☹️.

He’s counting down the days until he can see you again, and with each that passes, he can feel your silhouette becoming tangible in his hands, as if you were stepping out of the photo.

Sometimes, he dreams that you’re there with him, nestled between his arms.

Other times the dreams are a little more…graphic.

But Johnny can’t help it.

He just can’t contain himself when it comes to you.

Valeria

If you thought her violent tendencies could never extend to you, prepare to be amazed.

The second this woman sees what you’re trying to do – or, rather, what she thinks you’re trying to do – she is not happy.

You could have sent that image with the purest (within reason) of intentions; just letting Valeria know that you miss her, wishing her a good day – whatever.

What she sees is you trying to manipulate her by using your body as an instrument of destruction.

Dramatic, yes. But Valeria has never been one to take chances.

She’ll be deceptively calm over text: ‘Don’t tease me, Darling. You know what happens when you do.’

All day, all she can see is that image.

Whenever she turns a corner, you’re there; whenever she’s talking to someone, you’re peering at her over their shoulder; when she’s alone, you’re sat with her – on her – trying to take her attention away from her paperwork.

Redemption is a baseless concept when Valeria returns home that evening.

You will not know rest until she’s done with you.

Price

“Fuckin’ Hell, Love,” he’ll say, the darkness hanging on his voice tangible even through the voice note.

“What’ve you been up to while I’ve been away, hmm ?”

Will not rest until he knows he’s got you hot and bothered.

This entails him sending increasingly risqué images of himself; first, just one of him flexing, his arms thick and crawling with veins.

The next is of his shirt raised just below his chest, the dim light of the room keeping enough of him shrouded that his identity is unknown to all but you, his wide silhouette taking up most of the picture.

And, if you decide to be resilient against his attempts to make you feel as you have him, you’ll receive a series of menacing messages.

‘Don’t get too comfortable, Angel’, he’ll say.

‘You never know when I’ll come through that door–’

He grins as he sees you’ve read his message, hanging on his every word.

‘And ravage you.’

And you know he means it, too.

Meanwhile, he’s multitasking; keeping a clear, professional head and giving orders while resisting the primal urge to drop everything and find you.

And no amount of pleading or tears will spare you from his wrath when he returns.

Horangi

Regardless of how well the military life trained his self-discipline, nothing can dampen the sheer need Horangi feels whenever he receives a special picture from you.

I’m talking: he will literally sit in silence for ten minutes because he’s got a raging issue he needs to take care of but can’t risk anyone else seeing it.

Will thunder down the hall to the nearest bathroom when the meeting’s over and take out his frustrations there.

When he calls, you’d better pick up the first time.

If you don’t, you’ll have Hell to pay when gets home.

“Baby,” he breathes down the phone, the fog already making his mind frost over, his body burning up.

“What have you done to me–”

These brief encounters are the only thing keeping him sane while he’s away; they make him feel closer to you.

And, repaying you in kind, he returns one night, in the silence of the moon hours.

He finds you, pulls you to him, clutching on tight as you begin to wake.

And, between delirium and consciousness, his voice is all you can hear.

“Shouldn’t have tested me, Sweetheart,” he says, whispering as though partaking in a secret.

“Now I’m going to have to challenge you.” His arms are snakes as they constrict you.

“Fall asleep before I’m done with you, and I promise there will be no end to your suffering.”

Alejandro

Teasing a man as passionate as Alejandro is not going to end well for everyone involved.

Expect to receive a barrage of very choice texts back.

‘You have no idea what you’re doing to me’, he’ll say, followed by a photo of the tent in his trousers.

And a sinister: ‘But you will’.

If he’s away on business for even just a few days, he’ll go practically feral whenever he sees that picture of you.

To everyone else, he’ll be the leader Alejandro Vargas they all know him as – ruthless and righteous.

Yet, there’s something different in the way he walks as he excuses himself from the table, his destination unknown.

His gaze is narrowed and his teeth are grinding, rabid in disposition.

And when he gets home, no matter how long of a day it’s been, you’re in for a very long night.

He’ll appear behind you, a spectre, clamping a hand down on your shoulder.

“You shouldn’t test a soldier, Love,” he says, his grip tightening.

You don't turn around, an exhilarating fear keeping you frozen.

He leans down, his mouth just at your ear, his breath hot.

“Because you never know when he’ll snap.”

Rodolfo

This man is usually rather quiet and submissive when it comes to the more personal aspects of your life together.

But when you send him a picture that makes him question how long he can keep his composure for, you’re in trouble.

You’ll be receiving a phone call from a very exasperated Rodolfo, who, despite his best efforts, has succumbed to your charm.

Definitely a growler when he’s in a dominant mood.

More of a whimperer when he’s not.

At times like these, you get both.

“Darling,” he breathes, the back of his head pressed against the cold cubicle wall. “Look what you’ve done to me…”

His whining is more than enough to let you know the effect you’ve had on him.

And it’s what he says next that makes your blood run cold.

“I won’t let you get away with this.”

The husking baritone in his voice tells you he’s being truthful.

And if you try to clap back with something witty, or even an apology, Rodolfo just laughs.

“The time for mercy is long past, mi Amor,” he tells you.

“All you can do now is prepare for the Reckoning.”

Graves

This smug idiot.

Definitely smirks to himself when he gets that picture.

Has to resist the urge to show it off to everyone in the boardroom because he’s just that proud to have you as his partner.

Yes, he is hard. Yes, he’s still going to give this presentation in front of all the major shareholders.

Why ?

Because he’s Graves. Also, because he knows he has more money than everyone else in that room, and, consequently, more power.

Will shoot you back a text like: ‘Mighty fine work, Babydoll’, followed by, ‘You’re getting a promotion when I get home.’

Yes, he uses corporate jargon when discussing intimate matters.

He’s a businessman at heart, he can’t help it.

Definitely more playful than most of the others on this list.

The type to take his time with you and make you laugh while he does so.

But when he wants to be rough (and when you want him to be), he can be.

And he gets mean when he’s like that.

I’m talking hair-pulling, name-calling – basically just bullying you, but consensually.

Does his best to take care of you, though.

If he found out that he’d actually upset you, he’d literally jump off a cliff – he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

Expect many lavish gifts if this happens, though.

But don’t tell him that I told you that 👀.

Gaz

Will nearly drop his phone – it turns to butter in his hands.

He looks over his shoulder at least fifty times before he’ll allow himself to look at the photo again.

Poor boy’s face is turning red, his palms are sweating, he can’t think straight.

Paranoid 24/7 that everyone knows he has that picture of you.

But it doesn’t intimidate him enough for him to even try to keep quiet in the barracks when he has some alone time.

Similar situation to Soap; everyone knows to steer clear of whichever room Gaz was last spotted walking into for a while.

It would take him a few days for him to send a picture back.

More than likely, it’ll be of him in a scarcely lit bathroom in nothing but his boxers with a very prominent outline in them.

Followed by a text with something to the effect of: ‘Been thinking about you all night, Sweets’

And God forbid you send him another image of yourself. And definitely do not send a message saying ‘Aww, has my good boy been behaving himself ?’

Will literally send him over the edge.

The rest of the 141 can’t commandeer the bathroom for the rest of the day after that.

And when Gaz gets home, just know that your phone screen can’t protect you anymore.

Not when you have a man made of pure intellect and solid mass running full-force at you with all the pent-up energy seen only in a nuclear reactor.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[love44lew]

what turns them on/off

彡drivers lewis hamilton, max verstappen, charles leclerc, sebastian vettel, jenson button

彡genre hcs/scenarios

彡summary what gets their wheels spinning and what makes ‘em dnf ★

彡notes i apologize for the wait my loves i didn’t want any of these to feel rushed </3 thank you for 100 followers ❤️❤️

彡warnings sexual content

————-꧁🪼🦈🐋🐬🦭꧂-————

lewis

pleasuring you lewis loves to satisfy the people he loves. getting them gifts, compliments, paying the bill for any meal, you name it. as long as his special ones are happy, hes happy. so in bed you can expect those same things to apply. he gets pleasure from pleasuring you, he loves it. he enjoys seeing you trembling, blushing and fucked out more than his own pleasure. thats why his favorite thing to do is eat you out. and by life itself, this man can EAT!! its almost like your pussy put a spell on him he gets so lost in the sauce. you physically have to push him off to make him stop and by that time your legs are already shaking. he really touches the ocean floor if you know what i mean!! and the d is fire!! and it will put you to sleep. lewis loves being your personal melatonin.

meaningless sex when lewis was single and needed some pleasure every once in a while, he would just go on raya or hit up one of the six trillion girls who wanted him. he wasn’t satisfied with living that way. lewis is a lover not a player. he’s been through a lot of stuff to make him this way and he learned this the hard way through his late twenties and early thirties. born to be a lover, forced to be a hoe !! fortunately though, he met you and looking back on it, he’s realized how much he hated the shallowness of it all. lewis craves for deep meaningful connections and just having sex with random women didn’t fill that hole in his heart. he had to relearn the true meaning of sex and how magical and special such an experience can be. you helped him rediscover this important aspect of his life and it feels great. being with you has definitely taught him quality over quantity.

max

loss of senses max needs to see you, so darkness is a no no. plus, more unnecessary risk of hurting yourselves. he loves the sound of your voice, weather its your moaning and whining as he works your body in every way you enjoy or its just you rambling about your day while running your soft fingers through his thin silky hair. max needs the stimulation of sight and sound to get himself going. “let me hear you” he’ll whisper into your ear

this may be why he loves his mirrors !! the only solution to this issue is to just fuck u in front of a mirror. most men love to do that for their own pleasure but the only thing max is looking at while fucking you in front of a mirror is the way your face twitches, contorts, and relaxes with every thrust. the way your doe eyes roll back and cross, further showing to him how good he fucks you. he picks you up by your neck forcing you to straighten your back as he whispers sweet praise into your ear. “you look so pretty like this baby” “you want me to keep doing that gorgeous?” “uhuh im fucking you good baby” your legs twitch every time his sweet voice sings into your ear telling you everything you need to hear.

charles

charles loves to see you in lace, latex, and silk. the way the latex hugs your figure so beautifully makes you almost look naked. weather its black, beige, white, or print he loves when you look all sexy just for him. silk is almost like maternal for him. as much as he loves to see your curves he also loves the look of ‘sheets after sex’ the open back with the jewelry and the flowy trim, he loves it. it simply just makes him want to imagine you bloated with your shared creation but still keeping your elegance and beauty along with it. the look of silk makes your skin glow like the sun and you simply look like a greek goddess in his eyes. the beautiful custom embroidery that revolves around your every curve when you wear lace is unmatched. he loves that it shows just enough that he can imagine what hes already seen but also covers enough that others cant. the sexy elegant vibe of lace changes your aura enough to make him want to eat you out through your thin panties. your beautiful skin covered by a thin soft custom embroidery made just for him makes his mind go wild.

waiting charles is very impatient when it comes to his pleasure. weather its the pleasure of winning or reaching tip of his climax so good that he’ll just want to fall asleep after, he’ll work hard to make sure he gets there, for you too. sure, he can do foreplay but only for a certain amount of time until he begins to bore. ‘lets get to the good stuff already’ ((sass)) charles is a gentleman, so he will make sure you finish before him. plus, he has amazing stamina, so don’t feel rushed to reach your climax, he can wait for that. sometimes he’ll slow down just to watch you overstimulate for a little bit longer, just until you start fussing before going rough and slow, just how u like it. “whats wrong mon cœr? don’t you like it slow?” “ahh you want it harder.. yeah, just like that.”

sebastian

cuddling (smirk) the bed creaks as seb adjusts himself to face your back swinging an arm over your waist and the other snaked around your neck. “good morning, der liebling” he greeted in his raspy low morning tone, planting soft kisses on your cheek and shoulder. you turned your head to catch his lips. “good morning sunshine” you teased his nickname. he rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging his lips. he kissed your nose before diving back onto your lips, his hand now squeezing and caressing your waist and hip. you scooted back, carefully grinding your rear on his front. his hand stuck on your hip while his other now holding your neck. you continued grinding your ass back on him. little moans and purrs escaping between kisses.

full attention its important that you fully engage with seb while having relations. if you seem at all uninterested in what you’re doing he simply wont have the means to do anything anymore. its important to always make sure you’re not holding back when it comes to him. he loves when your hands are anywhere they can find groping or caressing his skin as hes burried deep in your core. he needs to feel extra wanted every time. “touch me” he whispers into your ear as he slowly inserts himself. the extra sensory makes him go wild as he resists cumming after just a couple strokes. your nails lightly scratching circles into his scalp as he’s pressing your knees into the cushion below. even when hes fucking you from behind you always reach a hand over to run down his chest and abs and make eye contact as you match his thrust rhythm.

(i might add jenson in the future but im trying to get this out for you guys asap!!)

—-

dm for tags!! plz request more ideas ❤️

[yanderenightmare]

step daddy puts you in you place. your place being on his fat cock. please 😩

TW: stepcest, nsfw, dubcon/noncon, overstimulation, size-difference, age-difference, Daddy kink

gn reader - fem labels (princess)

Give a brat an inch, and they'll take a mile. 

He should have been strict with you from the very start. But... then he wouldn't reach what satisfaction dethroning a spoiled princess gives. The whole point is for you to show regret and remorse – repent your sins – or else you’ll have learned nothing. 

In the end, you’ll wish you’d made different choices – been more grateful for all he gave you instead of just taking his goodwill and kind patience for granted.

Before you even know what’s happening, before your spoiled-rotten mind can even comprehend where your bitchy attitude has landed your bratty ass, it’s already too late for apologies. 

But, hell... it would have been no fun in making you kneel if you didn't fight back just a smidge – if you didn’t tire yourself out and look up at him with that adorable scornful scowl – so pouty and grumpy with so many vicious obscenities on your tongue, where you deserve nothing but having your potty-mouth washed clean of all nasty protests and filthy comments along with a good thorough reminder of who’s in charge.

Poor little brat, you didn't know what you had coming, did you? Completely oblivious to the fact that your useless fists and aimless kicking do you no good whatsoever besides putting an amused smile on his face. 

Poor little brat, you shouldn’t worry your pretty little head about anything anymore – Daddy’s heard your prayers and is going to be teaching you some proper manners from now on. Giving you the full length of his cock. Daddy’ll make sure his little monster is all tuckered out before nap time – you can count your bratty ass on it.

He’ll have fucked you into a grateful puddle before bedtime – reduce you to nothing more than a little dummy on his dick – a pleasure pet with your favorite toy stuffed up your taunt hole, pounding you silly until you know nothing else but how much you love your daddy.

Chanting it in choked, broken, needy little moans, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy~” when he’s successfully bent your stubborn will and reduced you to nothing but his happy little fuck-toy. 

The funny thing is that the slap to your ass does nothing but make you drown even further into the pleasure lake of his black sheets.

You’re so cute lying there in your own mess – soaked in sweat and cum with your tiny fists gripping the comforter like it’s the only thing grounding you sept for the strong hands holding your hips – lifting you to meet his sharp thrusts angled deep into your stomach when he splits you apart from the back for the umpteenth time. 

It makes you see black, it makes you see white, where your core bursts with color, as he makes you wail out like a filthy little whore in heat – holding your sex with big fat fingers, making you cum again while receiving every thick inch of Daddy’s meat.

It doesn't get any cuter than your round face mushed into the silk covers – glossy pout wet with drool and tears, cheeks swollen and dewy – fucked completely stupid – droopy eyes soft like cotton, with your little red tongue licking the air between parted lips, panting and mewling for him – causing his knife-sharp hungry-hearted grin to twist and curl and grow ever so eerily wider as he fucks you harder and faster and deeper and louder.

BNHA – Bakugou, Deku, Kirishima, Enji, Aizawa, AFO, All Might

JJK – Nanami, Geto, Toji

AOT – Erwin, Zeke

[navybrat817]

Naughty indulgence, lovelies. Join me.

Warnings: Free use, reverse harem of sorts, mention of aftercare

banner by the talented @cafekitsune

You're tired. Exhausted. You can barely stand on your own two feet. You don't want to do anything except lay in bed, stare at your ceiling, and forget about your stresses.

But your partner decides to have a guy's night. It's fine, even if it slightly annoys you that he chose tonight. He assures you it'll be a good stress reliever. You don't see how, but you can suck it up and deal with the noise for a few hours, right? Besides, they're nice guys and they adore you. Each and every one of them.

So you greet the group with a tired smile and they immediately offer to take care of everything. You're not cooking or getting them drinks. No waiting on them. You just sit and relax. Have a good time.

Oh, there's no chair for you. Just take turns sitting on their laps. A drink or two in their hands may start to wander and you might feel their bulges press against you when you move your hips. Your partner doesn't mind. He encourages it. He even suggests laying you on the table so the real fun can begin.

So later when your partner casually sips his drink and watches while his friends pass you around and take turns ruining your holes, you realize the guy's night is all about you. You don't need to think tonight. And what better way to make you feel better and appreciated than to give you orgasm after orgasm?

And the praise. Telling you how pretty you are as you're bouncing on a cock. How good you are when you're put on all fours. How your job doesn't deserve you when you're choking on another dick. You should just quit. Let them take care of you and just take their loads.

You're barely awake when your partner finally takes his turn, fucking your sloppy hole in deep, almost agonizing thrusts. You manage a moan when he says he’s almost there. He’ll get you off again, too. You almost black out when he does.

He'll clean you off when he's done and tell you how well you did. How perfect you are. They'll take turns cuddling you and making sure you get enough to eat and drink. They'll convince you to quit your job. It's for the best.

Besides, who wouldn't want to be their little party favor?

So, lovelies. Who is your partner? His friends? And who went first?

Love and thanks for indulging. ❤️

[ellecdc]

A Man with a Plan.7

prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU

CW: angst, discussion of Black and Crouch shitty parenting, accidental attempted drowning/belief of drowning -> please note: there are always happy endings here on ellecdc

Amelia Bones didn’t like to think of herself as a particularly stupid girl, but she couldn’t deny she probably looked pretty foolish right now.

She was just about as pathetic as any school-aged girl got over their first crush – which was to say was very pathetic. The worst part of all of it was that she really sort of did this to herself.

She couldn’t deny that Remus had always been very clear that he was interested in nothing more than casual sex; he never invited her to breakfast, he never asked her out on dates, he never even invited her to parties. But that never stopped her from wanting those things.

And for a while, she was able to pretend it was fine.

She was able to pretend that when he didn’t kick her out of bed right away and allowed her to stay the night, that it meant he actually wanted her there. She was able to pretend that when he approached her at a party, it was because she had always been his first choice. She was able to pretend that when he grabbed her and rushed into a broom closet, it was because he just couldn’t stop thinking about her and needed her just as desperately as she needed him.

But she was only fooling herself.

And to add insult to injury, it appeared that Remus wasn’t completely averse to feelings, relationships, or dating; he just didn’t want that with her.

“And have you noticed how sweet he’s been on that freak L/N?” Shirley sneered from Amelia’s left as they all watched Remus smile sweetly at you and pass you a cup of something at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

“You should start offering palm readings, Amelia. Maybe then he’ll find you odd enough to keep around.” Added Silas, earning snickers from the entire friend group.

“Ha ha.” Amelia deadpanned, tossing her half-eaten toast onto the plate in front of her.

The bitter taste followed her around all day after that. She swore she could hear the sounds of Remus and his friends snickering all day, and if she happened to hear your serene voice echoing in the hallways, she knew that chances were that Remus wasn’t too far behind.

Remus was everywhere; and wherever she was able to avoid him – you seemed to show up. As you walked into the library in which Amelia was currently holed up in, she swore she was a thestrals hair away from using her quill to put herself out of her misery.

Amelia was able to see her friends from her current table but had opted to sit on her own in order to focus on the difficult Care of Magical Creatures essay, knowing that sitting with Silas would result in a rowdy game of gobstones in no time – library or not.

“Oi! L/N! What kind of voodoo spell did you cast on Lupin, huh?” Shirley called to the girl, earning her a round of snickers from the friend group. Amelia cringed, noting that you were currently alone and very clearly minding your own business.

“Hello Shirley.” You offered, albeit much less jovially than your usual sunny disposition.

“She asked you a question, freak.” Silas barked aggressively.

“Oh, leave her be.” Coraline chided in faux sympathy. “We all know she doesn’t have the attention span for voodoo practices; she’d need a brain larger than a goldfish for that.”

You looked away from the group who were now all belly laughing at your expense when your eyes met Amelia’s; her gaze already trained on you.

“Hello Amelia.” You said softly with a gentle smile gracing your lips as you approached her table. Amelia regarded you cautiously, though she hated to admit that she found it extremely difficult to feel defensive in your presence.

“Hi Y/N.” Amelia sighed, looking back down to her textbook.

“Have you gotten far on the essay?” You asked kindly, peering over Amelia’s textbook. She really wanted to be vexed at your intrusion in her studies, at her table, in her life, but she found she really couldn’t muster the effort.

“No... I, uhm. I’m finding this quite difficult, honestly. I’ve still got a foot of parchment to go.” She admitted begrudgingly. You hummed in agreement.

“It likely doesn’t help that it requires an understanding of the mating habits of the frost snails, which we haven’t covered in class.”

Amelia’s head snapped up to consider you. “Really?”

You nodded.

“Helga...I thought I had lost the plot! I was certain I had missed something in class to feel this lost.” Amelia admitted looking back down at her parchment feeling slightly elated to know that she at least wasn’t a complete fool in this area of her life.

“You can find everything you need to know on page 246; the rest of your paper should come along nicely.” You offered, smiling kindly at her. Amelia was sort of annoyed at the pleasant feeling that you elicited from her, but again she couldn’t muster up the energy to be particularly vexed.

“Thank you, Y/N. I would have been quite lost without your help.” She relented.

Your smile grew at that as you stood taller, preparing to walk away. “Oh, I’m sure you would have managed just fine Amelia. You’re quite the witch, you know.”

And with that, you floated away.

Amelia supposed that if there was anyone in this school who would be able to convince Remus Lupin to break all of his rules, you’d be a shoo-in.

Amelia decided then that it was actually quite an honour to have ‘lost’ to a witch like you.

Remus felt silly wandering the grounds in search of you. If he was a man of more restraint, he would try harder to control himself; but he decided there was no use in denying Moony, or himself, of you.

Thankfully for your part, you didn’t seem to mind all that much.

Remus’ life had been flipped upside down twice recently: once when he found out about his soulmate bond, and again when he came clean to you about his lycanthropy. He found he felt... freer, safer, grounded if that made any sense at all.

And though his regular anxiety surrounding the full moons seemed to lessen, his anxiety surrounding you seemed to grow each day the closer he got to the full. It was almost as if Moony was convinced he could feel every beat of your heart – it sped up momentarily, something upset you, you’re catching your breath, you’ve fallen asleep – and though Remus felt incredibly disturbed and admittedly creepy to be capable of assessing all of these things from Merlin knows how far away, it brought Moony immense comfort to be able to sense you safe.

He tried not to overwhelm you with his constant presence as Moony (and begrudgingly, himself) would much prefer, but with the full moon approaching, Remus decided it was better for everyone not to fight the urge to be close.

Remus had (quite embarrassingly) searched the entire castle for you to no avail and had even resorted to asking Regulus (who was accompanied by Barty) if he knew where you were.

Barty had scoffed at him. “Figures you wouldn’t be privy to her schedule yet, Lupin.” He sneered, emphasising his last name as if it were a dirty word.

Regulus rolled his eyes at his friend and let out a sigh. “She goes down to the Black Lake every afternoon to bring a gift to the mermaids, Lupin. Now if you don’t mind, I find Barty to be far more pleasant company when he’s not whining about people dressed in red and gold.”

Well, Remus didn’t have to be told twice. Moony was very excited to leave his present company to find ‘MINE!’.

Remus was admittedly not a huge fan of the moniker Moony had chosen for you, but he was very tired of arguing with The Wolf.

As Regulus had promised, Remus finally found you crouched down at the edge of the dock on the Black Lake, tracing shapes into the water’s surface with your hands.

Perfect. Good. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Remus couldn’t exactly disagree with the sentiment.

You were alerted to Remus’ presence by the wooden planks shifting below his feet.

“Hello Remus!” You cheered in that gentle and serene way of yours; Remus couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

“Hello Y/N, what are you up to?” He asked as he stood above you. You began to squint up at him and Remus quickly shifted over in order to shield your eyes from the sun.

“I’ve been trying to befriend the mermaids.” You explained, returning your gaze down to the water. “Each day I try to bring them trinkets.”

Remus hummed in acknowledgement and crouched down beside you ignoring the burning sensation in his knees. “What kind of trinkets?”

You hummed in thought before you answered. “I think anything shiny works well. Sometimes if I’ve lost the pair to an earring, I’ll bring it to them. Or crystals and gems are nice too.”

“And what do you get for your efforts?”

You turned to consider Remus bemusedly; your brows were furrowed but you were still smiling, nonetheless. “Do you only ever do things for the sake of a potential outcome, Remus?”

Remus figured he ought to feel properly chastised, but he was just too happy to be talking to you in order to do much about it. “I guess so.”

You hummed and assessed his face before turning back to the water. “Do you often feel disappointed?”

“I feel like we’ve already determined that my planning skills are not conducive to success, no?”

You smiled to yourself at that as you continued playing with the water. “It’s true that I’ve set out with a goal to befriend the mermaids. But whether or not they return that friendship, I will have succeeded.”

“Wouldn’t you think that you’d have better luck from in the water?” He queried, causing your lips to purse as you let out a disappointed sound.

“Perhaps; if I knew how to swim, I’d certainly try.”

Moony reared his big old head again at that, and Remus quickly stood and gently helped you stand and pulled you closer to the middle of the dock, away from the edge you’d been inhabiting.

You giggled at him; the first real spontaneous emotion he thinks he had ever heard from you, and it caused Remus’ heart rate to speed up double time.

“You needn’t worry, Remus.” You expressed solemnly. “I’m very careful.”

And for that, he and Moony were glad.

“Where are you headed now?” He asked instead, hoping to begin steering you away from the Lakes edge and towards solid ground.

He could tell by the subtle lift at the corners of your lips that you had caught onto him, but were gracious enough not to call him on it.

“I believe I’m to meet Bartemus and Regulus in the Slytherin dungeons for a bit.” You admitted, causing Remus to wrinkle his nose and Moony to growl in protest.

So many of the words you had used in that sentence were displeasing to Remus, but you were willingly stepping off the dock and walking towards the castle with him, so he didn’t feel he had any right to complain. 

“What are you headed to now?” You asked in turn, catching Remus off guard.

What was he going to do now? The only thing he’d planned on doing was finding you, and he’d done that.

“You know; I’m not sure.” He admitted.

You chuckled at him and began telling him about Barty and Regulus’ plans for the afternoon; and although he was displeased at the content, he was very pleased listening to the sound of your voice.

He hadn’t realised he’d been subconsciously leaning into you or brushing your hand with his until you confidently yet gently took his hand in yours and continued to lament about Barty’s poor study habits without missing a beat.

Remus found himself feeling very lucky to have you as his soulmate.

Remus’ feeling of luck ran out quickly when he found himself stepping down the last stair into the Slytherin dungeon to figuratively hand you off to your friends. 

You must have noticed Remus’ hesitation to let you go when you gave his hand a gentle squeeze and smiled kindly at him. “Perhaps we can meet in the library after supper? I have a Care of Magical Creatures essay to edit.”

And Remus was certain that was a lie; he was quite sure you were long done that essay, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“That’d be very nice.” He agreed.

“Alright, alright, Lupin. Move along, would you?” Barty grumbled as he made his way over; Regulus rolled his eyes at his friend and actually offered Remus a somewhat apologetic expression.

“Barty.” You chided lightly with a smile. “Be nice, yeah?”

Barty grumbled petulantly, muttering “that was me being nice.” But he acquiesced to your request in the form of keeping his mouth shut until Remus had ascended the stairs.

True to your word, you approached the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall when you were finished eating with a kind smile on your face.

Unfortunately for poor Moony (Remus), your presence led to questions from James, who, upon hearing you were working on edits for the essay in Care of Magical Creatures, insisted he join (seeing as he hadn’t even started it yet). Of course, not one to ever be left out, Sirius was quick to offer to join.

And since Remus, James, and Sirius were all going to be in the library, Peter figured he may as well tag along. 

Though Remus was feeling rather petulant about the final attendance of your study date, Moony was feeling very chuffed about his whole pack being together.

He forced Moony to lie down and be quiet as he listened to you try to help James with his essay (read: pretty much write it for him). 

Remus was surprised how well you seemed to settle into his group of friends, and in turn, how his friends seemed to settle around you. 

James seemed to be able to sit still for a longer period of time if it was you he was conversing with, Sirius seemed less inclined to argue with everyone about everything, and Peter seemed far more comfortable in asking you follow up questions than he was with anyone else the group had spoken with before.

Unfortunately, things didn’t seem to want to go smoothly for Remus today. 

The sound of your name being called over and over and over again in a hushed tone interrupted your sentence on why the mating cycle of frost snails was dependent on the growth pattern of shrivelfig fruit as Barty came rushing over.

“I’m sorry,” he started breathlessly, surprising the absolute fuck out of Remus. “I forgot to tell you earlier; I got a letter.”

Remus watched as your face turned grave; your expression far more severe than he’d ever seen it before.

“Did you burn it?” You asked darkly.

“Not yet.” Barty admitted.

“Bartemus.” You chided quietly, looking like your heart was breaking a little bit.

“Merlin; do you really need Y/N to check your mail for you, Junior? Couldn’t this wait until later?” Sirius grumbled, never looking up from his own Runes translations he was currently working on.

Remus was surprised he didn’t hear your neck snap with the speed at which you turned your attention away from Barty and back to the table where you glared severely at Sirius.

“Sorry Treasure.” Barty commented quietly, patting your shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later.” Before he left the library.

Remus felt his heart drop…no…he felt your heart drop as you turned to watch Barty disappear behind the stacks in the library. 

“Sirius Black.” You began quietly, causing all the boys to cringe at the use of his full name. “Tell me; how do you usually feel after receiving a letter from your father?”

You had once again returned your attention back to the black-haired boy, but any of the softness and serenity that the boys were used to seeing when it came to you was nowhere to be found. 

Sirius didn’t seem to have an answer for you as his eyes darted nervously between his friends. 

“Is your father kind? Loving? Understanding? Does he tell you he’s proud of you? That he’s glad to have you as his son? That it’s an honour to share his name with you?”

“No.” Sirius finally said quietly. 

“And who helps you with that?” You asked. “When you had nowhere to go, and no one to turn to; who helped you with that?”

Remus heard Sirius swallow around what was likely a growing lump in his throat. “James.”

“Then call me James, Sirius.” You said emphatically, standing and beginning to pack your things.

“Wait, dove. Where are you going?” Remus started reaching out a tentative hand to rest on your wrist.

You slowed your movements but didn’t stop. “I have a Sirius to comfort, and a fire ritual to perform.” You explained simply. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

And with that, you turned and disappeared into the rows of books.

“Way to go, Pads.” James grumbled as he began organising his half-written parchment. “You managed to upset a perpetually happy person, and now I’ll never finish this essay.” 

“Well how am I supposed to know everything about that crazy bastard?” Sirius finally blurted out defensively. 

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage, brother?” The voice of Regulus Black drawled as he stepped out from behind the stacks. 

“Make it a habit of spying, brother?” Sirius sneered back. “Tell me; was it my conversations you were concerned with, or Juniors?”

Remus watched as Regulus’ jaw tightened minutely as he seemed to consider his next words.

“I’m not telling you this for your own sake, nor for Barty’s. But, if Y/N is important to any of you, there are some things you ought to know.” He started.

Yes. Important. Mine. Important. Moony chanted, sitting at attention.

“You know the fire that was caused by a magical experiment that went wrong a few years ago in Ottery St. Catchpole? That was Y/N’s house. Both her parents died in that fire.”

James’ head reared back as Sirius sucked in an uncomfortable breath. 

“She lives there with an elderly house elf as her only family. The house elf and Barty.”

“Junior lives with Y/N?” Remus asked quickly; too quickly. He was immediately embarrassed.

“Junior lives with Y/N.” Regulus parrotted. “You know, Sirius, the Black’s aren’t the only family who practice Unforgiveables on their children.”

Regulus seemed to allow that to sit in the air for a moment before he continued.

“And you aren’t the only one who needed a friend to run to.”

“I’m sorry, alright?” Sirius admitted, though he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with his brother.

“I don’t think you are, Sirius. I think you’re feeling properly chastised, and have no qualms painting Barty as the villain in every story all because of the school colours he happens to wear. You were so upset when our family accused you of being sorted into the wrong house, but you are the one who continues to view houses as wrong.”

Sirius looked up at his brother at that. “I am sorry, Reg. I didn’t know.” He admitted earnestly. 

“I’d thought that maybe…maybe out of everyone, you’d understand him the best… he reminds me a lot of you, you know. Stop - don’t look at me like that.”

“Reggie, I am trying, but you’re pushing your luck here.” Sirius groaned.

“I just wanted to let you know.” Regulus continued, though he seemed to be saying that to Remus. “Y/N is wonderful. And accepting, and understanding, and wholesome, and open minded. But she will protect her own. If Evans has to learn to put up with the lot of you for the sake of Potter, you’re going to have to figure out how to put up with me and Barty, because I can assure you that Barty isn’t going anywhere.”

Hearing Regulus’ message for what it truly was, Remus made a mental note:

Do not come between you and Barty.

You found the weather to be quite refreshing today as you made your way to the edge of the Black Lake. 

You felt poorly for Bartemus; you didn’t understand what the point of Crouch Senior continuing to write to his estranged son was, or what  he sought to accomplish.

Perhaps it was just to upset Barty, which upset you even more.

But, you’d performed the “fire sacrifice” as Barty often called it, and burned some white sage to cleanse the energy after disposing of the horrid letter.

And today was a new day. 

There were hardly any clouds in the sky, the grounds were quiet as most students were still in class whilst you had a free period, and Barty had offered you a family heirloom to offer the mermaids today.

You had no sooner lost sight of the Crouch signet ring as it sank to the depths of the Black Lake when the sun in the sky was blocked from behind you. 

You turned to see the figures of Silas, Shirley, and Coraline from Hufflepuff standing over you.

“I know you said she had a brian the size of a goldfish, Coraline, but it seems she rather wants to be a goldfish.” Shirley commented with a malicious smile.

“Returning home to the Grindylow’s, L/N?” Silas jeered. 

Your mother always told you to ignore the mean words; to smile and stay kind when people got mean. 

“What?” Coraline cooed in faux sympathy. “Kneazle got your tongue?”

“You better start talking, witch, because the way I see it; you’ve hurt one of ours.” Silas barked.

“Hurt?” You asked as you stood up, trying to sift through memories of your recent interactions with Hufflepuffs only to come up empty.

“Don’t play dumb; you totally stole Lupin right out from under Amelia.” Coraline explained.

Your heart fell; you certainly hadn’t meant to do that, you hadn’t even realised they were together. You never meant to hurt Amelia, and you were sure Remus must just hate you for this if it was true. 

“Amelia is twice the witch you are; Lupin deserves better than some ditzy airhead.” Shirley spat at you.

Amelia certainly was a nice witch; she was competent, powerful, and quite pretty. She was normal too, not like you; you were odd, a freak. 

“Why do you think he was spending all that time with Amelia when you two first started talking? He didn’t want you, L/N.” Coraline stressed.

He didn’t want you.

That was perhaps true. He didn’t choose this soulmate bond; and he didn’t choose you.

He had seemed more than disturbed in the beginning.

Perhaps he was only being nice to you now because he was simply no longer resisting the bond.

No one should have to live like that; to live their life out of force and obligation. Not Sirius, not Regulus, not Barty, and certainly not Remus.

“I don’t think you heard me.” Silas said as he took a menacing step towards you, and he punctuated every word with a sharp jab of his finger into your shoulder. “Stay. Away. From Lupin.”

And then he used his whole body to shove you backwards, and you were plummeting into the cold dark water of the Black Lake.

continue to part eight here

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