#his tongue is as sharp as his teeth lmao

[starcunin]

@mysticrosed sent: “i’m ten times funnier and sexier than you.” from quil!

A silver brow arches, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he leans casually against a tree, arms crossed. His crimson eyes flicker with amusement, tracing Quil with the kind of lazy, predatory interest one might reserve for a curious insect. ❛ Is that so? ❜ His voice is smooth, silken, the kind of drawl that suggests he's already several steps ahead in this conversation, thoroughly enjoying it. ❛ Well, darling, I must applaud your confidence. It’s always endearing when someone reaches for the stars, even when they clearly belong in the gutter. ❜

He pushes off the tree with feline grace, sauntering closer, his gaze never leaving Quil’s. ❛ You see, confidence is one thing, but I find that true charm——real allure——is something you can't quite measure. Not by numbers, certainly. ❜ He pauses, tapping a finger against his lips, feigning deep thought. Astarion steps back, hands raised in a gesture of mock surrender, that wicked glint in his eyes never fading. ❛ But please, don’t let my existence get in the way of your delusions. After all, someone needs to be second best. ❜

His smirk broadens, the hint of fangs visible. ❛ And I do so enjoy watching people try. ❜

[pantherxrogers]

after the game - wooyoung x fem!reader (18+)

⚾️ pairing: wooyoung x fem!reader

⚾️ warnings: pure smut (18+), no plot lmao, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, housewife kink, explicit language, gentle dom vibes, hint of sub reader, not proofread 👀

⚾️ summary: after seeing his wife interact with the kids at the baseball game, wooyoung wants one of his own.

⚾️ a/n: still trying out the lowercase text! this is puuuuure smut with no plot, so i hope you guys are okay with that lmao. also, i am madly in love with wooyoung and that baseball game did not help 😮‍💨

my masterlist

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

it all started with a baseball game.

now, wooyoung’s black jersey and pants are strewn on your bedroom floor, along with your sundress and thong. the pair of you barely made it to the bedroom, bodies intertwined as soon as you got home.

he’s still slightly sweaty from the heat, refusing to shower until he’s had his fill of you. he’s been hard for hours, and he’s not stopping until you both get your fix.

all you can do now is pant beneath him, his thick cock stretching you to the brink. the fringe of his grown-out hair hangs over his hooded eyes, which are focused on your sopping cunt.

he bites his lip at the sight, fascinated by your wetness coating his shaft. your steady moans keep him going, like music to his ears.

“that feel good, baby?” he teases, pushing further into you, knowing that you’re on cloud 9. you can feel every ridge of his cock, the closeness sending a shudder down your spine.

“sh-, shit, yes,” you huff, “feels so good, woo,” you whine, lifting up to meet his lips.

it’s sloppy and wet, both of you focused on the intense pleasure. the way his tongue delves into your mouth makes your pussy even wetter. he’s like a starved man, ravaging your body for whatever you can give him.

“fuck, this pussy is so damn tight,” he groans, breaking the kiss. the sight of him wetting his fingers makes your eyes roll back. when he starts rubbing tight circles on your clit, you know you won’t be able to hold back for long.

“uh, woo, please,” you whine, unsure of what you’re actually asking for. you’re so close, but you don’t want this to end. he lets out a cocky laugh, carrying above the slick sounds of his sharp thrusts.

“i know, baby, i know.” he slows down a bit, making sure you feel all of him. he loves the way your face contorts, getting off on your pleasure.

“h-harder, please,” you beg, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. you moan out when he leans down, slower thrusts allowing him to grind against your clit.

you let out a gasp, hands suddenly pinned to the mattress beneath you. he’s staring at you intently, wanting to see the moment you fall apart.

“look at me when i’m fucking you.” his serious tone makes your pussy throb. when you meet his eyes, you’re enthralled by his beauty.

his tanned cheeks are flushed, brows furrowed in concentration. his full bottom lip is between his teeth, another sign of the harsh way he drills into your pussy. a warm shiver spreads over your body, further turned on by the hungry look in his eyes.

“there’s my pretty girl,” he hums, love-filled smile briefly breaking through his dominant demeanor. you whine when he pulls his cock out, sitting up to find out why he stopped.

you sweep your eyes over his body, appreciating the beauty of your husband. his lean body before you, muscular thighs bent at the knee, sitting back on his heels.

his veiny hand grips the base of his cock, tapping it on your clit. he makes a show off stroking himself, loving the way to stare at him. your thighs quiver, the sight of him making your pussy clench around nothing.

he pants, rolling his head back at the way your wetness clings to his tip. each tap of his sensitive head against your clit drives him wild.

“woo, please,” your voice cuts through to him, breaking his trance. with one last drag from your clit to your opening, he nestles his cock into you, the squelch filling the quiet of your bedroom.

“fuck, gonna cum soon,” he grunts, his thighs slapping against your thick ones.

“me too,” you squeal, feeling more of your wetness leak onto his hard cock. lifting up, you trace your tongue along the vein in his neck, the sensation making his cock jump inside of you.

“gonna cum in this pussy, make you a proper housewife,” your eyes roll back at his words, excited by the mention of his breeding kink.

“y-yes, please,” you squeal, bringing your hips up, matching the pace of his thrusts.

“want me to fill you up?” he huffs, pinning your wrists again. “maybe i should just cum in this pussy and get you pregnant, hm?”

“f-fuck woo! i’m cumming!” you squeal, eyes shutting at the immense pleasure. he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips into your clit, prolonging your pleasure.

“that’s right baby, cum for daddy,” he groans, thrusts getting sloppy at the sight of your fucked out expression. your pussy feels even wetter around him, the lewd noise pushing him further to the edge. your hand comes up to tweak his nipple, before running your manicured nails down his abs.

“you look so pretty for me, woo,” you hum, turning your head to press a kiss to his flexed arm.

“shit, i’m close,” he whines, hips losing their rhythm. you wrap your arms around his neck, meeting him with a sweet kiss before you pull away.

“wanna feel you cum inside me, woo,” you purr, looking up at him with doe eyes. “wanna feel you in me all night,” you look straight into his eyes, already seeing his orgasm wash over him.

“fuuuuuuuck,” he pants, warm spurts of cum flooding your wrecked pussy. you soothe him during his orgasm, stroking every part of him you can get your hands on.

when you’ve both come down, wooyoung is quick to hop up, much to your dismay.

“wooooooo,” you whine out, missing his warmth already.

“i know, baby, it’s okay,” he coos, running into the bathroom to grab a washcloth for you. when he comes back, he’s very gentle, carefully cleaning your sensitive folds. he finishes off with a soft kiss to your thigh, finally taking his place beside you again.

he pulls you into him, your sweaty bodies cuddled together beneath the sheets. your little yawn makes him chuckle, heart full of love at your cuteness.

“did i tire my baby out?” he teases, lifting your chin so he can see those pretty brown eyes. your smile is bashful, always feeling a little shy after a particularly strong orgasm. he smothers you kisses, unable to contain his love for you.

“speaking of babies,” you murmur, now causing a blush to spread across his face. “hello, mr. breeding kink,” you tease him, having fun with his embarrassment.

“you just looked so sweet today with all the kids. it made me start thinking about our future kids,” he confesses, tracing his finger along your cheek. you feel your heart skip at his confession, trying to fight back the sudden tears in your eyes.

“jagi, what’s wrong?” he hums, brows furrowing at your tears. he’s afraid for a second, hoping his confession hasn’t made you uncomfortable.

“nothing baby, i was thinking the same thing today,” you pout, so in love with the man in front of you.

you share a kiss so sweet it almost makes your heart burst. wooyoung’s lips are soft against yours, setting a slow pace. you both savor the feeling, never tiring of sharing your affection.

you’re both breathless when you pull away, giggling under the sheets like teenagers.

“so, maybe we should keep practicing,” he smirks, covering your body with his own. it’ll be a while until the both of you leave the bedroom again.

[shoyoist]

── 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 : monkey d. luffy

content: fem!reader. unprotected & rough sεx, semi-public(?), multiple orgasms, once again a lot of cum, spitting, mean dom luffy except he's not doing it intentionally, use of the word ‘cunny’ lmao + a lil manhandling, one mention of anal. note: crawled out of hell to get this done for me & @kingofthe-egirls + the rest of us luffy lovers<3!

— . ｡˚ ♡ luffy seems to like it a lot when your pussy talks to him.

one thing about luffy is that he likes you loud. 

he likes you loud, and he’s demanding about it. demanding, greedy, and sometimes even a little mean. it's almost an unbelievable thing. imagine — your sweet boy, empty-headed and as dumb as a nut, mean.

you don’t think he even intends to do it, but sometimes when he’s got you flat on your tummy, back arching as he fits his dick in you and slides in all the way, the way he grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks together in his grip—telling you blankly, “louder. wanna hear ya.”—you can’t help but shiver a little. 

and sometimes it’s not even your mouth that he wants to hear. it’s your cunt.

“shhh,” he cups a hand over your mouth, stifling your whines as he keeps up that dizzying pace of his. “ya don’t want the others wakin’ up, princess.” 

the deck is empty and the others are all inside, and thankfully, the night is dark enough and the sea rough enough to let the two of you go about your little tryst without bothering the others. 

but he's embarrassing you with the little quips and you want to complain, tell him that with how sharp the slap of skin against skin between your bodies is, there’s no fucking way the others are still asleep. but the next knock of his cock against your favourite spot has you going mindless, the words dissolving on your tongue like sugar, his bliss being the only thing that fills your head.

your pussy squelches with each thrust of his dick inside, wet and hot and messy, but luffy seems to think it’s not enough.

he straightens up for a bit, and you want to whine again because it’s nicer when he’s all pressed up and heavy against your body—but then the glob of his spit hits your ass, the sound of him gathering it in his mouth and spitting again, again and again covering the momentary quiet—and you deliriously wonder what the hell it is that he wants. 

he’s already cum inside you, and he’s made you cum all over him twice over. it’s definitely wet enough.

but luffy spits once more before he’s satisfied, and with a little grunt he leans back over you, body hot and slick with sweat when he presses his chest to your back.

“y’re cute like this.” he comments, and it’s so silly how that’s what makes you blush. just a casual remark, when he’s literally balls-deep in you, on a bunch of messy, patchy sheets laid out on some corner of the ship. “really fuckin’ cute. do ya think i’m cute, baby?”

“mhm, i do.” you mumble, and he giggles as he grabs your hips and pulls you up into a position more comfortable for him and a little less comfortable for you—but you can’t care about that when he rolls his hips into you and has his cock pushing at the sensitive, bruised velvet of your walls all over again. 

the new slick of his spit is enough to get your pussy to make an embarrassing amount of noise as he fucks you, and luffy is laughing again like he loves how it sounds.

“cunny likes how i’m makin’ her feel, eh?” he coos, voice high and giddy with sex-induced ecstasy, loving how your walls tighten up around him when he presses the pads of his thumbs into the flesh of your ass, rubbing circles into your skin as he stretches your asshole out for his viewing pleasure.

“how about here?” he wonders almost to himself. “mmm?”

“lu—captain, no,” you moan, unsure if you’ll be able to hold back, going all dumb with the pain and pleasure so it just turns luffy on even more, if he tries to fuck your ass tonight. “n—not this time.”

“hmmm?” luffy groans, voice cracking, and you know his eyes are squeezed shut, teeth clenched, hands groping you harder as he drives himself closer to his next high. “and what if—what if captain orders it, princess? will ya defy the captain’s orders?”

“luffy—” you try to warn, but he clamps his hand back over your mouth, cutting you off as he snaps his hips into you in an especially mean thrust—and he laughs when your reprimand fluidly changes into a breathless moan right in his palm. “shhh, baby—pussy’s talkin’ to me.”

his other hand winds past your waist, fingers climbing down your inner thighs, searching for your clit through the mess he’s made between them. “she says she wan’s more.” and when he finds your clit, pearly little thing throbbing in anticipation for his touch, the cry you let out says that you want more, too. god, he just makes you feel so good without even trying.

luffy is merciless—and he doesn’t even know it. he pushes past the folds of your pussy and takes your clit between two fingers and pinches, like that isn’t going to send you to a spiritual plane that feels like both heaven and hell. your body rocks against his, but his hand is still over your mouth and you can’t do anything else but cry into it, wordless and incoherent. “mmmm!” 

and all he does in response is fucking laugh. he giggles again, playing with your clit like it's a fidget toy, the pace of his cock in your cunt getting faster and faster as he tightens you up and feels your body quiver underneath him, like a wire about to snap, the perfect thing to empty his load into. “louder, princess. y’r cunt talks better than y’r mouth—ah!”

he cums without warning. 

hot, thick and messy into you, catching even himself off guard. it was probably the way your cunt squeezed him, the relentless toying of his fingers at your clit forcing an orgasm out of you, a pulsing, continuous wave that makes you shudder and cuts luffy off and makes him choke up over you. 

you feel it fill you up and drip out, trailing down your thighs, and you feel luffy’s hot gasps at the back of your neck as he finally stops, wrapping his arms around your waist and falling on top of you like a dead weight. it would feel uncomfortable if you weren’t all tingly and numb.

there is a moment of silence, of shared breaths and body heat, before luffy giggles. “was that good, princess?”

“yeah. i—” your mumble is cut off by another “shhh!” that makes you curl up in his arms, afraid somebody was out and about to catch you both.

but then, you feel luffy’s grin against your own cheek. “quiet, ‘m talking to the cunny, not you.”

“monkey d. luffy. get your ass off me, right now.”

[hoshigray]

𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 | ryōmen sukuna

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem/afab! reader - mosterfucking - double penetration (he got two) - biting - spanking - light choking - mention of blood.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: a quick something I wrote for Sukuna to take a break from writing a fic + I have jack shit for him in my masterlist, lmao.

Ryōmen Sukuna is most definitely a biter. There is no need to state this since it is obvious. But imagine him plowing you from behind, watching your ass quake under his erratic thrusts, forcing out choked moans from your writhing body moving to and fro with his. Tears roll down warm cheeks onto the cold cream sheets that cover the futon. Hands grip the material for dear life with every rut to your leaky cunt. And when he smacks the cusp of your ass, a shriek cannot be restrained from your lips. 

Sukuna loves your screams. They please him to no end — a gorgeous tune to his devilish ears. As a sadistic man, nothing gives him more joy during these moments than inflicting pain onto your sweet tiny body forced to accommodate both his girthy cocks. A beast like him is allowed to use you as he sees fit. His little pet. His little toy. Not like you can refuse. Judging by how your body adapts to his dicks inside your holes, it is apparent that you're also enjoying this, too.

Two hands are stationed on your hips to propel you forward to him, and the other two hold your hands behind your back. You're left with nothing to conceal the whimpers and cries that fly out your mouth. He wants to hear it all — the sound of your ass meeting his pelvis, the choked sobs when his black fingertips dent into the depth of your hips, your pants for air as he takes them away. It turns him on so fucking much.

He can’t fight the urge anymore — the sight of your sweaty body quivering under his bow gets him riled up. Your skin, so beautiful and pure, displayed none of his markings from the times before now. Blue eyes narrow to your shoulder, clear of nothing but sweat. Well, he’s just going to have to fix that.

He comes down to your shoulder and sinks his teeth into your flesh. A sharp cry sneaks its way out of you. 

“Eyyahhhh!!! Su-Sukuna, don’t, please! I can’t have any ma— Ahhaahhnn!!”

“Who told you’re in a position to order me, brat?” He gives the mark on your shoulder a slow lick, tasting the twinge of blood to engage his taste. One of his hands snakes its way to your throat to squeeze. Your mind plunging into a deeper haze than before. “Know your place. Don’t stop screaming for me.”

More chews to your shoulders prompt more tears to escape from your strained-shut eyes. And the pacing of his cock becomes unbearably fast for your brain and senses to keep up. The pain inflicted by his demon mouth, along with the tongue from his stomach licking the sweat of your back, coinciding with the erratic tempo of his hips — it’s all too much to bear. And your release hits you hard, your cunt and ass clamping onto his lengths that continue to rut into your now sensitive parts.

“Mmmph, haahhh…Heh, now you think you can come without my permission, huh?” Sukuna whispers dangerously to your ear, and you whine when his teeth catch your lobe. “Such a pathetic pet, aren’t you.” He pistons his dicks deep inside, churning your tender areas to the point of incoherent babbles. “A damn noisy one, too…Hmmgh! Oh fuck, fuck…”

Before he experiences his climax, Sukuna gives the back of your neck one last bite. Your final shriek signals the ingress of his warm load filling your holes. He keeps you pinned to the futon, making sure you stay still for every bit of his essence to enter within you. Your mind is too far gone to try and fight it — too occupied with the feeling of him corrupting your body internally. Just letting him ride out his own crescendo until he slowly dismembers his huge members off of you. Heavy pants are used to steady his breathing, and he examines his messy work on your body. Bloody bite marks, your ass trembling from the onslaught of ruts and slaps, and silent tears trickle down a dazed face. He snickers to himself. 

“Perfect.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 — dividers from @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[finniestoncrane]

Big Iron

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 650 lmao no one is allowed to yell at me for the pun in the title (get it... cos blood tastes like iron??? PHEW) ANYWAY cooper howard eats people and enjoys the taste of blood so uh... eating someone out when they're on their period? winner winner delicious fuckin dinner for him, plus a healthy dose of romantic cannibalism🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mentions of cannibalism, period sex, oral sex, drinking/tasting blood, blood play

Your fingers scratched at the thin mattress below you, catching on a spring that burst through the frayed fabric. Something to claw on to, to cling to, as your orgasm rolled over you, pulling back like the waves before a tsunami.

Sensing the imminent climax, Cooper cruelly pulled his head back from you, catching your eye as you looked down to see why he had stopped. With a wink, he dropped his tongue out past his chapped lips and ran it around his mouth. Wagging the long, pink muscle out, you could see the blood collected on it, smears of it still on his face.

"Why... why'd you stop?"

Panting. Pathetic. You were desperate for him to continue, to place his face flat against you, clit hooded by the cavity where his nose had been, tongue hungrily lapping at you. Even as you asked him, you could hear the whine in your voice. And his answer only made you tense up further.

"Because, darlin'... I like to savour my meals."

Why you had expected anything less was a mystery. Every month, right on schedule, your period arrived and Cooper went hysterical. Frenzied, like an animal in heat, as though he could smell the changes in your body. Blood lust driving him. He would claw at you any minute you were alone, tearing your clothes off to taste you, like he did now.

His fingers teased along your red, swollen lips, venturing into your cunt as you clenched around him, grateful for more of his touch. But it was over in a moment, as he withdrew his digits and held them out in front of him, admiring the way your blood, thick, dark and red, dripped slowly down them.

Placing them in his mouth, he sucked your juices off with a soft moan, eyelids closed to offer some sensory deprivation. All he wanted to experience was your taste. The metallic tang that coated his tastebuds, the smell of violence that filled the air.

Lowering his body, his knees scraping along the ground as he slid backwards through the dust on the ground, he rested his cheek against your leg before he began placing kisses on it. They trailed from the front, around to your inner thigh. Delicate, gentle, loving almost, before they turned to sharp bites. His yellowed teeth sinking into you with grunts and groans, either from arousal or from the sheer amount of concentration it took him to remember not to hurt you. Not too much anyway.

Between each nibble, each puncture of the top layer of skin with his surprisingly sharp teeth, he mumbled to you, low, rasping words that made you shudder, heating your cheeks and flushing your body.

“Why… I could just devour you whole… Make you a meal I’d never forget…”

Your lips curled into a smile at the thought. Cooper’s possessive nature only ever served to make you lust after him more. It consumed you, and you’d be content for him to consume you.

“Eat of your flesh… drink of your blood, that old chestnut…”

There was a soft scuffing sound which you identified as Cooper’s hips, grinding into the ground, desperate for the friction against his stiff cock as his tongue flitted back up your lips and pressed into your aching cunt one more. And still, he took breaks to speak to you between breathy, lustful moans.

“You taste… you taste as sweet as I remember honey being… you got the bite of a sour cherry… tender like the steaks they offered me at contract meetings… juicy… dripping… fresh kill…”

Your hand fell to the back of his head, keeping him buried between your legs, not quite strong enough to prevent him from stopping for just a few more words.

“I’m gonna eat you alive, darlin’…”

[yeyinde]

piggybacking off of @ceilidho 's dog soap idea with something awful lmao

You first notice it when you catch him staring at you from the crack of your bedroom door.

He's sitting in the dimly lit hallway, only half of his face peering into the sliver of space between the white wood of the door and the frame. Just—

Watching.

In the bluegreen glow of the flickering screen (Robert Stack paces down a blue hallway, bathed in that hazy, neon glow of early 80s television), he looks more like a lurking shadow than an animal. Eyes dark, and glinting in the soft light like the surface of a placid lake. You think of the dangers lurking beneath the murk when his muzzle dips, the slow refocus of an apex predator acclimating to a sudden change by its prey. The motion almost entire too human, and—

Not.

Not at all. It rides a razor's edge between anthropomorphism and the uncanny valley; the middle a strange, unfathomable realm of eerie discomfort. Something is wrong. The notion prickles against the nape of your neck. Crawls slowly down your back, the spindled gait of a languid spider tickling your skin as it walks over your flesh.

Something is wrong with your dog.

He was fine ten minutes ago. Had his dinner. Went for his walk. You were lazing on the bed flipping through the channels when his ears perked up, head pointed toward the back door.

You didn't think much about it. He had to go. Maybe he heard a rodent rummaging in your garbage. You slipped out of bed, his soft, fuzzy body sliding against your calves as you walked him to the patio, pulling it open and letting him out. He seemed to hesitate at the threshold, though. And while it didn't stand out to you then, it does now. He froze, ears pinning back, flat to his skull, as his fur lifted. Raising high in the air. A whine slipping out—

There was a rustle in the bush. A low noise. A growl. It was probably just the other dog sniffing along the fence, you thought. Your neighbours husky. He placed one paw on the deck, and then turned to you, eyes wet and glossy in the flushed porch light, and—

(and he looked so scared.)

Your breath hitches. Heart twisting in your chest. He's still staring at you from the hall. Unblinking. Expression wild. Wide. Pinning you with his stare. But he's panting. Chest expanding as it heaves through it's snout in quick, shallow breaths. Maybe the other dog scared it. Maybe the husky bit it's paw through the fence. You should check on it—

Him.

Check on him.

He went outside after a moment. Tail flattened between his legs. Drawn toward something you couldn't see, couldn't hear. And you turned around with a smile, waving him off as you walked back to bed. And now—

It's—his—lip curls.

He's never so much as bitten you much less—snarled. The suddenness of it paralyses you. Roots you to bed. Useless and unable to do anything as your dog, your baby boy, lifts his muzzle up with a growl, long, sharp canines dripping red—

"Baby?"

It's a warble when it slips out. Shaky. Scared. The sound of voice makes the dog drop his jowls, cherryred tongue lulling out. Pink, foamy drool spilling to the ground as he pants. His teeth look sharper than they did before. You brush them every night before bed, cooing at him as you scrub his canines clean. Singing some off-key song about dogs and their pretty teeth. He watches you with nothing short of adoration etched into his big, brown eyes. Wide and so trusting, so loving—

It's a harsh juxtaposition to how he looks at you now. Hungrily. Like a starving lion looming over a tired, sickly gazelle. Tongue out, jaws dripping with saliva. Your heart lurches.

"Baby?" You call again and he huffs. The rough noise filling the room, echoing through the hall. Deeper, somehow, than the snarl on his lips. The halfbitten growl booming in his heaving chest. You curl your legs inward under the covers, drawing them tight to your chest as he blinks, slow. Languid. As his lips split wider, wider, and for a moment, you almost trick yourself into seeing a maniacal grin pushing at the corners. Frenzied and full of teeth.

You wait for it. And wait. Wait—

But the lake ripples, and the thought is tucked away. Hidden under a blanket of numbness that spreads, mushrooming over your thoughts. Cobwebbing over the unease that saturates your mind; tiny fangs of a spider piercing through, liquifying them.

He keeps his eyes pinned on you, mouth open wide with his tongue out the side of jaw, and slowly raises himself off of the floor. It's something you've seen him do hundreds of times. Agile flicks. A big stretch. A yawn. A shake.

Something cools on your cheek. Wet, sticky. You don't have to reach up to know that it's tears. They roll down in an endless stream, cold against your frozen face. Unable to move as your mind bends, and bends, but refuses to break. To snap. Shatter. To admit that what you're seeing is real.

That he doesn't shake. He doesn't yawn. He jerks. He twists. Unfamiliar, you think. Like he isn't used to moving with a body this shape. Distorted. Wrong. It snaps. It twitches. He hunches over with his spine bowed and his head slung between his thick front legs, low to the ground but his eyes—

His eyes are on you.

Pinning you down. Glowing in the artificial blue light.

He looms over you. Snout inches from your cheekbone. The puff of his ragged breath glues uncomfortably to the sticky tears on your face. The air that rattles in and out of his lungs is uneven. Choppy. Inhale too deep. Exhale too shallow. It morphs into snarling rataplan. In-in, out. Inout. In, ininin, out.

You can't watch him move. Try to walk. It'll skewer through the molasses you let trickle over your fear, curdling in your belly like sour milk. You drag your gaze away from his jerking gait instead, staring, unseeingly, at the television as he limbers onto the bed.

You can smell something on him when he moves close. Rot, you think. Ozone. Pine. Dead leaves. The wet, mossy bark of a fallen tree. Blood. Bad meat.

Your eyes burn. If your heart beats any harder, any faster, you think you might go into shock. Cardiac arrest. Killed by—

Fear.

That there's blood on his muzzle. You smell it when he leans in close, snout pressing cold and slimy against your cheek.

You're not sure why you do it. Muscle memory, maybe. But your hand lifts. Falls to his head. Nails scratching through matted, oily fur.

He's still staring at you. Whale-eyed. Something inside you whispers not to look. That if you turn your head, all the things hidden under the silk web will bubble to the surface. Things like—

He's big. Too big. Your growing boy.

He smells. He reeks. Got into the garbage again.

He's acting strange. Wrong. He's just scared.

He's going to eat you alive. You love him.

This thing isn't your dog—

He swings his head toward you suddenly, maw open wide, peeling back from those sharp, stained teeth; tongue lulling out—oh god, oh god—and he licks your cheek.

Panic bubbles out of your throat in the shape of a laugh. A giggle. You're going crazy, you think. Hysterical. But you let him lick your face, swiping his too hot tongue over the tears on your cheek. Your nose. Licking into the corners of your eyes. Over your forehead, chin. Jaw.

Its only when his muzzle slides up to your lips do you flinch back. Pull away. "No. N—no. Bad bad. Go—go to sleep, baby."

He huffs, and you stare—resolute, empty—at the blankets when he drops his head down, licking slowly at your rabbiting pulse. Teeth grazing the soft skin of your neck. Nibbling, pinching with his sharp incisors. The gossamer falls. The sheet is pulled back.

The thing stares at you with a hideous, devastating want on its borrowed face. Primordial. Archiac. It's hunger. It's greed. Its a lamb in the lion's den. And you—

You pull the sheet back up. Slowly slide back to the pillows below. Eyes fixed on the ceiling as he looms over you. Your baby boy. There's a huff. A quiet exhale through its nose, and then you feel it move. Twisting. Turning. Curling up against your side, body supine and made of strong, hard muscle. The rough scrape of its fur feels like a beard. Coarse. Wry. Spread out and matted down against its canine body. Burning like a furnace. Reeking of brimstone.

As he settles in his spot, resting his heavy head on your belly (possessively—owner, pet; the lines blur as he flicks his gaze toward you, watchful now and still as heavy, dizzyingly intense as before), you lay awake staring at the ceiling. It'll pass in the morning, you think. He must have eaten something bad. Got into the garbage again. You'll take him to the vet, maybe.

(leave him there—)

He's fine. He's just a little sick, is all. Agitated. It's going to storm tonight. He can feel it in the air. In his joints. Everything will be fine—

Outside, something yowls. The patio door rattles.

Scratch, scratch, scratch—

He huffs, lifting his head with a small snarl pulling on his waxy muzzle. Eyes narrowing into slits. Glaring into the hallway. To the patio.

"Easy, baby," you quaver, and curl your hands into his damp fur. "It's just the wind. It's just the wind—"

Another huff. It sounds rougher this time. Deeper. Masculine. Human.

When he settles back against you, you feel bare skin sliding along your thigh, and realise that the nightmare has just begun.

"Baby? Could get used tae tha'. Are ye gonnae ca' me a good boy too?"

[vaaaaaiolet]

Leon gives beyond what's asked of him at both work and home, in excess. He's stressed, overworked; worrying you sick. So you teach him how to take. More or less.

mdni. f / m, SHAMELESS smut. light dom/sub w leon subbing, super light bondage. no huge warnings just your run of the mill, emotionally charged p in v + aftercare!!

word count: 1.2k // read on ao3

a/n: stuff i have fun writing gets zero engagement LMAO but i just wanted to make porn sound pretty :( sorry if it makes no sense i just ughghguh lord knows re4r leon's about to go through it even more than he already has. i need to treat him so right.

It doesn’t take much to lure Atlas to your bed, or at least the form he takes on Earth while you’re still on it. Leon’s been weary with the weight of the sky for a while. Between his missions and taking care of nearly everything at home, it leaves a bad taste in your mouth; you worry the burden is compressing his spine. He never says no to you.

Leon, seriously! You’re going to hurt yourself.

Don’t get up, I can get it mysel- aaand you’re not listening.

You’re so sweet, baby, but you didn’t have to.

He won’t give you a break because he won’t give himself a break, and you’re sick of it. Fed up.

So here’s what you do about it. You put on something sweet and lacy, distracting for all the right reasons because you’re Artemis, tying rope into a trap. And you crook a finger at Leon one night when he’s especially pent up. 

He’s as good as ever. Leon’s kisses come out all huffy and sharp and eager to please when he tries pulling you in, but you know he’s twisting the truth about what he wants.

“Wanna try something,” you tell him.

Confusion crooks his brow. 

“I need to know that you trust me.”

A rhetorical question, really. He’s not particularly fond of traffic lights. Leon decides on sparkler as his white flag, and you let him slot his thigh between your legs one last time for luck before you take him under.

Leon’s a filthy liar. Don’t blame him; his hands were tied.

Correction: his hands are tied. Onto the headboard. He’s falling to pieces, whine as he might, begging to sink his fingers into the swell of your hips, anything to hold on while you give him a taste of his own medicine. All he knows how to do is give, give, give. Tonight, you’re teaching Leon how to take.

Your soft palm envelops his cock. His chest burns where your mouth hovers. 

“Baby, please,” Leon lets out a shuddering breath when you squeeze up his length. 

You’ve been at this for a while, dangling yourself just out of his reach. He’d slipped off your body a baby blue lingerie set matching his eyes, a spoonful of sugar to make the medicine go down, right? You spin around the color wheel, blue to red, swirling your tongue over his flushed nipples. Leon has never not tasted sweet and this time is no exception.

“Please, what?”

“Do something,” he begs. “Can’t…hold off. Don’t wanna-” Leon interrupts himself with a gasp as you go hands-off at the mere suggestion. “Sweetheart, please!”

"Do you still just want to make me feel good?” you ask.

He nods feverishly. 

Wrong answer. 

You buck on his lap just shy of where he aches most, and he keens beautifully. “What do you really want, Leon?” 

Leon fights the arch building in his back. “Want to f-f- fuck, that feels…”

“Right track, baby,” you coo. 

You lean forward as a treat, let him kiss up your breasts how you know he likes. Gentle teeth bite your tender flesh; you hiss in pleasure. This exercise is as much a lesson in control for him as it is for you because you’re going a little hazy yourself. Try straddling the man who would gladly bring down the moon and stars if you so as much ask, and then denying him the single thing he wants most. You.

You’d give up everything for him. Just as he would for you. 

God, that’s where he gets it from, isn’t it? What is it about rules for thee but not for me?

Leon bucks when you loosen his metaphorical reins; smells petrichor that wasn’t there before your head went all stormy. He gazes up at you with cobalt eyes, and suddenly decides that he’s done with his learning curve.

“I want you to fuck me,” he blurts.

You kiss him, soft and sweet. “You’re gonna take what I give you?”

“Everything.”

“Why, baby?” 

Here’s the million dollar question, and Leon passes with flying colors. “‘Cause I…cause I want to feel good.”  

“Why should you? Hm?” You pray he doesn’t let the initial sting of your words get to him when you slip the weeping head of his cock along your slit. The pleasure is quick, fleeting. Not enough. Leon does more than enough and you need him to understand. You have to untie his hands, and they spring free; come home to your hips. Old habits die hard. Leon’s dipping two fingers inside your sopping wet cunt already.

Rephrasing might help. “Why should I make you cum?” you ask, swallowing hard to keep the shudder out of your voice when his knuckle digs into your clit. An opening. 

His eyes pinpoint to pricks.

“Because I fucking deserve it,” Leon growls. “So give it to me.”

The student becomes the master not a moment too soon. 

You urgently notch the head of his cock inside your starving cunt, nearly choking him at the snug fit. He’ll never get used to the feeling of you taking him in. You’re always free to swallow him however you please, but the way your insides wrap around him is unmatched to any mortal feeling he can liken to. Your pussy is poetry in practice.

“Teasing me for damn near hours and won’t even let me touch you.” Leon’s nails bite half-moons onto your thighs as you mount him. “You know what that does to me?”

“That’s how I feel when you don’t fucking take a break,” you bite back. “Leon, you’re gonna work yourself sick, you’re making me crazy!”

What if you’re going about this all wrong? 

“F-Feeling’s mutual. Ugh!” Leon bites off a shout at the molten welcome of your walls all along his length as he sinks home. “So good, so fucking good, baby. Needed to be in you so bad. Thought I was gonna die- oh,” he cuts off a moan when your hips roll hungrily over his, “just like that. Just like that, baby.”

You syncopate your rocking with his heaving breath. Run your palms down the ridges of his hard-earned abs. This is a tandem ride to the tilt that threatens to push you over the edge and you’re fighting it because you still need to get your point across. 

“I want you to - fuck! - take care of yourself,” you cry. “Let me do things for you. Like-” 

Electricity sings through your core through the traitorous press of a thumb weak to your tears.

“-this.” Leon finishes, smiling weakly.

“I loved it, I swear! Did you see me, like, at all?”  

“That’s not the point…” you muffle an embarrassed groan into Leon’s chest as he laughs to himself. Bastard. You’re in his arms keeping his spent cock warm inside you, secretly burning with shame. 

You wanted to do it right, fuck him within an inch of his life ‘cause it’s the first time he’s ever expressed wanting anything from you – and you’d gone and fucked it up. He’d made you cum first and then finished. Chivalry could suck it. 

“I get it.” Leon nods solemnly. “You just got tired of the usual.”

Your heart stops.

“Kidding, sweetheart.” 

Again, bastard. 

“Message received loud and clear,” he kisses the top of your head, and you finally settle down into the smiley afterglow that comes after sex with Leon. “I’ll share the load with you,” he promises, kissing your cheeks, “tell you what I need, take it easier on myself.”

“And why should you?” you ask.

Familiar question, right? You hope it rings bells.

Leon grins. “Cause I deserve it.”

It rings true.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[mochinomnoms]

Apparently, shrimps and eels commonly have a symbiotic relationship. The eel protects the shrimp, and the shrimp eats any parasites off the eel!

The devs probably knew that when they decided to have Floyd call the player "Shrimpy," but now I'm imagining Floyd light up in joy and snickering the first time you pick off a bit of lint from his suit. It becomes an inside joke to him, and he starts ignoring anything that might be stuck on him so his friend can do their "job" lmao.

Naturally, Jade notices and gets in on the bit. Since he hikes in the woods, there's bound to be ticks and such! Sometimes, he has "no other choice" than to ask for your help since "Azul is busy, " and "Floyd always rips the bug apart trying to pull it off." These things are hard to reach and take out in one piece, better safe than sorry, right? And whenever you do the twins just give each other a Look like: the Reference is Referencing.

It's incredibly funny to them when you start taking after your namesake. Floyd especially thinks it's funny, as you said he'll leave himself dirty in anticipation of his shrimp. He'll even start to purposely get scuffed up in a fight (that he wins) or from parkouring so that you'll fuss over him and tend to his scratches and scrapes. You're so focused and your tongue is poking out, it's so cute! Jade notices, and similarly starts roughing himself up during his hikes so that you too will tend to him. After all, he can't ask Azul since he won't let him in the lounge while covered in dirt and plants, and your dorm is on the way back to his dorm anyways. Won't you be a dear little shrimp?

Shrimps provide this service in exchange for protection and food from eels in the wild, though. And they're not ones to leave a favor unpaid. So expect them to buy you an extra drink or sandwich at lunch. If you happen to come to the lounge, Floyd's asking you to taste test this dish he made for a new menu (it happens to be one of your favorite foods). Jade is inviting you over for tea time, which blends that he made with you in mind. And protection? Well, who's going to mess with you when you have two over 6 foot eels with sharp teeth and sharper grins hovering over your shoulder with their yellow eyes glaring daggers into their soul?

No one, trust me. You're confused as to why they're doing this, or why there's been an emphasis on referring to you as their cleaner shrimp, but you're getting food and protection from it so you don't bring yourself to care too much.

[gor3-hound]

sweet creature

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, mild dub-con, wolf!leon, bunny!reader, predator/prey, chasing, brief blood mention, praise, biting, sliiight dacryphilia, scent kink, breeding kink, knotting, p in v, creampie, oral(f!recieving), fingering, like one threat and mention of eating reader lmao

a/n: hiii! wolf x bunny fic as promised :) gonna be so real idek if i really like this or hate it LMAOOO my brain is so fuzzy from uni coursework and i have an exam tomorrow but the writing vibe hit so here we are!! as always, hope you enjoy <3

word count: 2.4k words

The weather had been awful the past couple of days, forcing you to retreat to your burrow. Your food sources are running low, making you resort to scavenge as soon as the storm clears slightly. It's a bit later than you'd usually venture out, but you really needed to find something to tide you over.

The rain is still falling, but not as heavily as it has been. It still has you shivering softly as you explore the forest, gathering what you could. The weather wasn't great for foraging - your sense of smell was dampened by the rain, and the darkness made it hard to see. At least you'd have some food for another few days. Hopefully the weather would clear up by the time you needed more food.

You're just about to head back when you hear a branch break behind you. Your head snaps back, your floppy ears perking up instantly as you listen for any more noises. You catch sight of movement, and then you catch a whiff of an unmistakable scent.

A wolf.

Your basket falls from your hands as your heart starts racing in fear, eyes trained on the grouping of trees as a low growling noise sounds. As soon as the wolf moves towards you, you dart off as fast as your legs will take you, weaving through trees and bushes to try and escape him.

You can hear him hot on your tail, which only makes you want to run faster. Your lungs burn from exertion, tears stinging your eyes as fear runs through you. You just need to lose him and reach your burrow, if you just turned in a few feet, you could use your smaller size to weave through the low branches and get away.

You're too late.

You sob as soon as you feel arms wrapping around your waist, lifting you off the ground and tugging you against a firm, muscular body. You begin to struggle instantly, clawing at his arms and kicking your feet out.

“Shh, shh.” A deep voice whispers, rumbling the chest behind you. “It's alright, little one.”

You feel a nose brushing against the skin at the side of your neck as the wolf inhales deeply. You tremble in his grasp, but you stop struggling when you realise it's not getting you anywhere.

“Please. I just want to go home.” You say quietly, your voice shaking as you speak, tears streaming down your face steadily.

“You can. I won't hurt you.” He promises, his wet tongue sliding out of his mouth to lick your neck a few times. You can't tell if he's trying to comfort you, or taste you.

“I was going to eat you.” He continues, grip tightening on you as if he sensed that would make you panic all over again. “But you smell too fucking good. And you're so damn cute. Sweetest bunny I've ever seen.”

He has you pressed so tight against your body that you can feel him hardening against your ass, his nose still buried in the crook of your neck. His lips curl back and he lets his teeth brush your neck threateningly.

“I promise I'll be good to you.” He coos, setting your feet down but keeping a tight hold on you. One of his hands slides up to your jaw, tilting your head back to look at him. “I just want to play with you a little bit.”

He grins as he makes eye contact with you, his sharp canines on full display and glistening, even in the dark of the night. “What's your name, bunny?”

Your name comes out in the form of a pathetic squeak, your entire body trembling in his grasp. Your heart races fast as adrenaline pumps through your body. You open your mouth again, your lips quivering as you go to speak. “Please, just let me go.”

“Let you go? Of course.” He says instantly, giving you a smile that would seem sweet if it wasn't for the predatory glint in his eyes. “But don't I deserve a reward for winning my prey? It wasn't very nice of you to run from me, little one.”

You sniffle softly, your face crumbling slightly when you realise he's not letting you go unless you give him what he wants. Your nose twitches slightly, your ears drooping at his words. “I'm sorry.”

“Oh, that's okay, sweet girl. You didn't mean it. It's natural for a bunny like you to be afraid of the big, bad wolf.” He says with a chuckle, leaning down to run his nose along your cheek.

“If you listen to me, I'll be gentle.” He coos, licking a stripe up your cheek, groaning at the salty taste of your tears.

“If you don't… well, I'll sink my teeth into the back of that pretty neck of yours and take what I want.” He growls, the expression on his face darkening. “We don't want that, do we?”

You shake your head quickly, a full body shiver running through you. He slowly releases you, and you fight every instinct in your body to run. It's clearly the right choice, because his expression softens again and his chest rumbles with a gentle growl.

“There we go. Knew you'd be good for me, sweet girl.” He breathes out as he brushes your hair away from your face, his touch far too tender considering the situation.

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours. One of his hands moves to your floppy ears, playing gently with it. He kisses you gently at first before his lips are trying to pry yours open, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You let your eyes shut, kissing him back. As the two of your tongues slip together, you accidentally brush one of his large, sharp teeth. Your heart jumps, but this time you're not sure if it's fear or something else, because your panties are becoming damp and sticky with arousal.

Your fingers twitch, and then your hands are moving on their own, planting themselves firmly on his hips. He growls softly into your mouth, teeth nipping at your lower lip before he pulls away, pawing at your tits through the fabric of your clothes as he sucks on your neck.

You whimper softly, your head falling back on its own to give him better access. His hands start wandering, and then he's tugging off your clothes, ripping them in the process. The cold air hits your skin, making goosebumps prickle your flesh. You shudder, and he tugs you closer to him, letting his body heat seep into your body.

What a gentleman.

“How the fuck do you smell so good?” He groans, his nose trailing down your body - over the curve of your breast, then down the soft skin of your stomach before he's burying it between your folds, kneeling at your feet.

He doesn't do much for a moment. He just worms his way between your legs and then just starts sniffing, moaning softly as he does so. The tip of his nose bumps against your clit, and your hips instantly buck towards his face.

“That's it. Good girl. Knew you'd like it, honey.” He hums against your pussy, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through you. You'd be embarrassed by how sensitive you were from this whole ordeal if he didn't stick his tongue out and start lapping at you like he was starving, malfunctioning the part of your brain that helps you form coherent thoughts.

“Oh-” You gasp, your cotton tail twitching as his tongue dips into your hole, wriggling its way inside. He looks up at you from over his brow as best he can, pulling away occasionally to suckle your clit.

“P-please, mister. S'good, oh god, need more… need you, fuck-” He pulls back at your last word, giving your pussy a harsh spank that has you jolting.

“Call me Leon, baby.” He says, rubbing circles into your clit before spreading your lips to give you a smack directly on it. “And pretty bunnies shouldn't use such bad words.” He adds, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Leon dives right back into your pussy, happily drinking up any slick that spills out of you while making the most obscene slurping sounds. One of his hands make their way to your entrance, two fingers pressing in with very little resistance due to how wet you are.

You still feel the burn, though. A small whimper falls from your lips as he starts to scissor you open, pressing sweet, open mouthed kisses to your clit to try and get you to stop tensing.

“C'mon, little one. Relax for me. I'm gonna be a lot more of a stretch than any of those bunny boys you've been with. Don't wanna hurt you when I pop my knot in this drippy pussy.” He says with a grin, nipping at the skin of your thighs.

You nod slowly, forcing yourself to relax. He murmurs words of praise and encouragement, flicking your clit with his tongue to ease the feeling. He forces a third finger inside, and your face scrunches up at the stretch. He sucks your clit back into his mouth to distract you, applying suction and flicking his tongue against it.

As soon as he curls his fingers, you're cumming all over his hand and his face, your juices dribbling down his chin. He slips his fingers out with a laugh, spreading them to watch as the strings of fluid cling to his fingers.

“Such a messy girl.” He says, clicking his tongue with mock disapproval. He licks his fingers clean, standing up and tilting your face up by the chin. He uses a thumb to pry open your mouth, and then he's spitting a mixture of your cum and his saliva onto your tongue.

“Swallow for me… that's it. Atta girl.” He hums, reaching down to slip his cock free from his trousers. “Be a good girl and put that ass in the air, baby. Gonna mount this pretty pussy.”

He waits for you to comply, dropping on his knees behind you and spreading your legs further apart. He presses his hand on the small of your back to get you to arch it more, sighing with satisfaction as the tilt of your body exposes you to him even more.

“Fuck. You really are a good girl.” He murmurs, pressing the tip of his cock into you. You let out a loud gasp at the feeling, your thighs trembling as he stretches you further than you've ever felt before. Tears spring at your eyes as he continues to press forward, his cock so fat that you're sure he's going to split you in half.

“It's okay, pretty girl. I've got you.” He says softly, rubbing a hand up and down your back to relax you as he continues to press forward, stilling when he's finally buried to the hilt. “I'm gonna stay riiiiight here, and you can move those little hips of yours when you're ready.”

You nod, cushioning your head with your arms so you don't have to press your face into the muddy ground. At least the rain has finally stopped, and you're not so worried about the cold anymore when every inch of your body is on fire.

After a minute or so you experimentally shift forward before rocking your hips back onto Leon's length. You hear him growl softly, his claws digging into your thighs and drawing blood. It stings slightly, but you're willing to ignore it.

“Leon…” You start, sniffling a little as you shift your hips again, fucking yourself back onto his cock. It feels good, but it's not enough. You know he can give you what you need. “Need more, please.”

“Oh, yeah? Is that right?” You can practically hear the grin on his face, but you don't care. You nod quickly, keeping up your movements. You yelp as you're suddenly yanked back onto his cock fully.

Your cunt sucks him in greedily, fluttering around him as he starts to thrust into you. His hips smack your ass aggressively, heavy balls slapping against your clit every time he jerks forward. He doesn't let up, pounding relentlessly into your heat, mouthing along your back and sinking his teeth into you a few times.

He licks up the blood from each bite mark he makes along your back and neck, grunting and growling as he fucks you. His thrusts get more erratic, and he feels himself getting lost in the feeling of your perfect pussy.

“Fuck, bunny. I'm gonna keep you, no way I can let you go after this. Pussy's too fuckin’ good, shit. Wanna breed you so bad. Would you like that pretty girl?”

He groans, the thought of filling you up with his cum making his cock jump eagerly. He thrusts deeper, shifting his hips so he's bullying your cervix with every movement.

“Ohhhh, bet you'd like that… being filled with my pups… fuck, or kits. Don't even care, baby. Just wanna fill that pretty womb up. Cunt's practically milking me, think you want my babies as bad as I do.”

You can barely speak, babbling incoherently. All he can really make out is a few ‘please's or ‘Leon's sprinkled throughout. He can feel how you tense around him, and he knows he's about to fuck another orgasm out of you.

“That's it, baby. Good girl. Give me one more, and I'll fill you up, yeah? Get you swollen with my puppies. Fuck, you'd be such a good mommy… sweet girl. I'll take such good care of you.” He groans, dropping his head between your shoulder blades as his thrusts become sloppy and shallow while he tries not to cum.

You cum so hard you almost push him out, so he's quick to grab your waist and force himself balls deep into you, his knot popping in as he begins to shoot ropes of thick, white cum deep into you. It keeps going, and he grinds against you as he rides out his high, grunting softly when the final spurt fills you up.

His arms wrap around your waist and he lies on his back, ignoring the way mud coats his clothes and the fur of his tail. He wanted you comfortable.

“Gonna be a while before this deflates, bunny.” He says softly, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and licking the skin there in an affectionate manner. “Then I'm gonna take you back to mine and do it again. Make sure it takes.”

You just nod lazily, eyes already half closing.

Yeah. That doesn't sound so bad.

[mysumeow]

. . . ꒰ WITH HIM

Warnings: Reader has medium/large sized breasts. Reader gets called darling and pretty. Afab genitalia and is referred to with you/your. Piv unprotected sex, Boothill has a metal dick (there are dildos with this material so I guess it's safe lmao).

Word count: 600+

A/N: i HATE him. man ran through 190 tickets and only got me his e1??? unbelievable. he's sleeping outside with the dog.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ 🌷 . . KOFI | HSR MASTERLIST

Boothill loves to snuggle his face into your chest. He finds comfort in the intimacy of it, and he listens to your heartbeats. The warmth you radiate against his metal body is soothing, too. He can feel it, thanks to the touch receptors integrated into the expanse of the metal plates. Of course, it can’t compare to the skin-to-skin proximity, and so he relaxes further into the hug.

He palms your tits and squeezes them while he nips at your neck. He feels your body arching towards him while kissing you, his lips trail downwards. His index finger circles around your nipple until it hardens—teases you about how responsive your body is to him. He ducks his head closer to it, his sharp teeth grazing against it.

He grabs your tits and pushes them together; his mouth finally envelops your nipples. He avoids irritating the sensitive flesh with his special set of teeth, but the way he sucks is eager. He closes his eyes, listens to your sounds of pleasure, and relishes in your embrace, which tightens. He welcomes it all.

He pulls his head back a little, still not freeing your nipples. And when he does, it’s to make out with you again, sloppily. His tongue slides against yours while he holds your face steady in his grasp, disorienting your senses because he’s vehement.

“As much as I love it when you lock your legs around me, Imma need you to spread’em. Can you do that for me?” You know he wants to taunt you, and you want to strangle him when he licks his fingers while he sends you a lustful look.  

The moment you obey, he doesn’t waste time and pushes his hand beneath your underwear and teases your pussy with it. He pushes two wet fingers in while his thumb rubs your clit, you keen from the pleasure. Unlike anything you’ve felt before, the stainless steel of his hand gets drenched with your fluids the more he fingers and scissors your cunt. Those fingers are thick, and even if there are only two of them playing with your sex, they stretch you out good.

“God, you’re soppin’ wet down there…You’re doing so good, darlin’,” His other hand pinches your nipple, and Boothill grins when he senses you clench around him. “You like that, hm? Come on, my pretty, look at me.”

You swear your heart is about to burst, but you do meet his gaze. Boothill grins satisfied, perhaps in a sadist way, before he starts pumping his fingers in and out faster—you double over. He chuckles at your reaction and moves his hand from your sore nipple towards your hip to drag you closer, intent on making you cum on his fingers.

“Yeah, just like that. Give it to me, darlin’. Don’t hold it back.”

For the second time tonight, you comply. He doesn’t stop until you’ve ridden all the waves of your climax. You watch him take his fingers inside his mouth, engulfing them until they’re clean from your release.

While you are still coming down from your climax, Boothill grasps your arm and pulls you in closer until you straddle him. He notices your clumsy movements and guides you to rest against his shoulder. Despite your tiredness, when he slides his cock inside, you move your hips in tandem with his pace.

Boothill offers a reassuring smile before his heated gaze travels towards your chest. Unable to hold back, his lips return there; with the hungry way he ravishes you, it’s difficult for him to not leave some teeth marks, even if a little.

The pleasure’s too much, it turns your thoughts into incoherences, and you allow its rapture. Small whines escape you as you let Boothill jostle your body up and down, holding you. You’re about to cum again, and you can’t even dig your nails into his back to express how good you feel—instead, you grip on his long locks of hair and pull. The ranger lets out a hearty laugh, your action riles him up more. He pounds into you with hasty snaps of his hips, and he cums after you.

[mykneeshurt]

Pride

Thank you to @ave661 for the eye candy

Price x AFAB!reader

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, daddy kink, praise kink, semi-public sex, p in v, oral f receiving, oral m receiving, unprotected sex

Reader is early 30s Price is 38 … though in my mind he’s 100% 45 lmao man radiates dilf energy

This isn’t proof read … I love chaos

It’s started as a joke, a tongue in cheek joke aimed towards you Captain over some celebratory drinks in the local pub. It had been a hard mission, alcohol was a must after what you’d been through as a team. It was the middle of December, fairy lights hung above the bar as a roaring fire lit up the snug corner of the pub.

Drinks were flowing, the atmosphere was cosy and conversation was easy. You were sat in the middle of your Captain and your Lieutenant. Their wide bodies crowded you in the booth as you relaxed into the warmth of their firm muscles. As you were drinking Gaz came running up to the table ‘right, I’m off.’ He had a smirk on his face as he downed the last of his pint, noticing a woman stood by the door you threw him a wink ‘she’s very pretty Gaz. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.’

Soon after Johnny slipped away, telling you he was meeting up with an old friend. Even your stoic Lieutenant had been making eyes at a lucky woman at the bar. Turning to your Captain, your head swimming in alcohol you pouted at him. ‘What’s the matter cap? Worried you’re a bit too old for these spring chickens in here?’ You smiled as you said it, rubbing your tongue over your teeth.

‘Careful love’ he growled, just low enough so only you could hear, ‘could teach you a thing or two yanno.’ You scoffed rolling your eyes, you dropped your eyes to his lips as you bit yours softly. ‘An old man like you? What would you know about pleasing a woman?’

And that’s exactly how you ended up in the back of his car, laid out, bottom half bare as he ran his tongue up and down your cunt. You gripped the leather seats as his tongue swirled around your clit, adding just the right amount of pressure to sent jolts of electricity through your body.

Your sweet moans filled the car as Price inhaled them like the very oxygen he needed to survive. Arching your hips into him you craved more. He was holding back. ‘John … please’ you begged as you gripped his arm. ‘What’s the matter? Old man too much for you?’ He questioned, his deep blue eyes fixated on your glowing body. ‘Feels so good John, don’t stop.’

With your permission he grazed your slit with his thick fingers, gathering your arousal. The sound was sinful. You bit your lip as he gently pushed into you, stretching your hole as you gasped for breath. You couldn’t see it, but he had one hell of a smug grin over his face. If it was one thing the Captain took pride in? It was how he could fuck.

He picked up his pace as he slowly added a second finger, stretching you further. He watched as his fingers moved in and out of your glistening hole, conducting a chorus of gasps and moans from your lips. He kept thrusting his fingers, watching your body writhe from pleasure. Your chest heaving and panting, your eyes screwed shut as you clenched your thighs around him.

‘Pretty little thing ain’t you?’ He cooed, before adding his thumb to your swollen bundle of nerves. A sharp gasp left your lips at the sudden intrusion. ‘Shit, oh my god’ you whimpered, burying your face into the leather seat. He leant over you, still keeping his punishing pace, lips hovering just above yours. ‘Not god love, just John.’

Feeling you begin to clench around his fingers he replaced his thumb with his mouth. Nipping, sucking and licking your clit, pushing you further and further to the brink of your orgasm. A string of incoherent words emerged from your throat as you threw your head back. ‘That’s it, give it to me love’ he whispered against your cunt, his beard tickling your sensitive skin.

Pushing your fingers through his hair you gripped it, pulling his face further into your aching pussy. He smiled against your folds savouring your arousal on his tongue. Your orgasm rushed over you in a tidal wave of unbridled pleasure. Completely blinded by your orgasm you hadn’t realised what you’d moaned.

Opening your eyes you saw Price staring down at you, a devilish glint in his eye. ‘Daddy huh?’ Oh god no. You didn’t realise you’d said it. He nuzzled into your neck nipping it softly between his teeth ‘mmm let daddy show you how well he can fuck eh?’ It was a growl, a low rumble from the depths of his chest.

He pulled you up onto his lap as he kissed you, his arms wrapped around you as he cupped your head into his. The kiss was messy and desperate, tongues fighting for control amongst the mass of teeth and lips. Rolling your hips into him you felt his hard cock against your core. ‘Fuck me John, now’ you demanded. Never being one to say no he quickly pulled out his cock and lined himself up.

You sank down onto his cock, both gasping as he filled your hole. He gripped your hips and began guiding you, rolling you back and forth as you covered his cock with your arousal. ‘Keep goin love, just like that … pussys so good’ he praised. He licked his lips as you began bouncing, wrapping your arms around his neck you nipped his bottom lip.

The windows were steamed up, the car filled with the sound of skin on skin, your pussy being filled and fucked. But the good Captain wanted more, wanted to show you how good he really was. In a swift motion he placed you face down on the back seat, instinctively you arched your hips up to meet him. He slipped back into your cunt, both of you gasping once more.

You pushed back into him as he began to thrust, gripping both your hips he slammed into you. A truly punishing pace, his cock felt so good as it ground against your core. He let out deep satisfied moans as he fucked you from behind. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling completely cock drunk. ‘Oh fuck daddy!’ You wailed as you scrambled to grip onto the leather seat, his pace was unrelenting. ‘That’s right’ he growled, ‘let daddy take this of this pussy.’

Spanking your ass he watched as the muscle juggled with each thrust. His eyes glued to the shape of your body beneath him, he snaked his hand into your hair. Pulling you backward causing your to arch your back further, your tits bounced each time he slammed into your pussy. ‘Oh fuck, right there, right there daddy’ you spat through gritted teeth.

‘Good girl, takin’ this cock so well.’ The praise drove you wild, it was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Your skin felt like it was on fire, he rubbed your back, each fibre of your being lit up as he caressed you. ‘More daddy please, please please please’ you muttered, it was almost like a mantra. He spanked you again ‘little whore cock drunk already? Daddy’s doin a good job huh?’ He groaned under his breath.

You felt yourself tighten against his cock, ‘fuck fuck fuck, gonna cum’ you said, your voice strained from pure pleasure and desire. He dropped his hand from your waist to your clit, toying with it between his fingers. Daring you to come on his cock, pushing you further and further. He couldn’t not make you come again, his pride wouldn’t let him. He needed to hear your pretty little moans again, feel your cunt constrict around his cock.

Your jaw went slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you pushed your forehead into the seat beneath you. No sound came from your mouth as your orgasm ripped through you. John wasn’t too far behind, he pulled out and flipped you over, shoving his cock down your throat. You gagged around him as he came down your throat. Looking up at him through hooded lids, tears stung the corners of your eyes as you swallowed.

Whispered grunts and whimpers fell from his lips as his cock pulsated in your mouth. Your sweet saliva coating the entire length of his sensitive shaft. He offered you a warm smile as he pulled out, tracing your jaw with his thumb. ‘Now. What do you say to daddy?’

With a content sigh you licked your lips as you grazed his muscular thigh with your nails. ‘Mmm thank you.’

————

Taglist - @luminousbeings-crudematter @griffmors

I low key hate this lmfao daddy kink makes me shudder but it fit - thank you to @johnnytavish who suggested the daddy kink lmao

[sturnioz]

just saw your reply about the boys like mimicking the sounds u make and i think matt would defo be the type to use them as like a point in arguments lmao.

like you say something a bit bratty or cocky or whatever and he’s like ‘yeah you weren’t saying all that last night’ *fake moans*

like he does it to get under your skin bc we KNOW that boy has too much sass for his won good

"yeah?" matt's tongue rolls across his teeth, his eyes squinted at you as you huff and puff. "crazy attitude comin' from someone who wouldn't stop screamin' my name last night, kid."

heat raises up your neck when you hear him mocking your sounds, overexaggerated moans shrilling in your ears and you turn to face him with a sharp glare — a look to get him to stop as the embarrassment starts to creep in.

"yeah..." he hums, seeing the expression written across your face. "s'what i thought."

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 4

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Mentions of Cannibalism, Choking

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Ok, so clearly I'm a big fat liar. I'm sorry this chapter also took ages. I think I'm just a slow writer lmao. Anyway, it was fun writing this so I hope you guys enjoy it. As always, thanks for all the lovely comments I appreciate them a lot. Take care and have a good one!

"Where is he?" you snarl as you march through the halls gripping Iassa's choker. "Where is the na-Baron?" Your voice a threat.

"He is doing his morning drills, my lady," Zora, your new servant chases after you, growing increasingly panicked, "he trains with the Warmaster."

You pick up your pace, "Take me to him." When Zora hesitates, you yell, "Now!"

When you arrive, Feyd-Rautha is sparring with who you assume to be the Harkonnen Warmaster in a shallow recessed pit in the center of the training room.

"Where is she?" you call from the doorway, your voice filled with vitriol.

Your unexpected presence catches Feyd-Rautha off-guard and his sparring partner manages to cut his right abdomen through his shield. He growls at the Warmaster and snaps his head to you, "I am preoccupied at the moment, my lady."

"Where is Iassa?" your glare pierces through him.

"Who?" he asks genuinely confused.

Your grip on the choker tightens, "Don't pretend. The servant girl assigned to me. You left this in my room, didn't you?" The realization he had snuck into your quarters while you were asleep quietly creeps on you. "What have you done with her."

"Ah," he tilts his head, ignoring his bleeding wound, "I thought about just cutting her tongue out." A smirk grows on his lips, "but my darlings were hungry."

It was only then you noticed his concubines in the room, lounging in a corner of pillows. Their sharp-toothed grins only stoked your fury.

You scoff in anger, "because she revealed your farce? Are you so insecure?"

Is cocky expression evolves into a glare. "Leave us," he orders, eyes staying on yours. Servants flood out of the room asking with the Warmaster but it seems his pets were exempt from this command. "Why do you cry for a girl you knew less than two days?"

He was right. Why do you care so much? You were hardly 'close' with Iassa. You've had servants on Caladan and you were never particular with any of them. Would you anger for them the same way? Why must you suddenly be a paragon of justice? And at the risk of the Harkonnens' contempt?

When you remain speechless, the na-Baron continues, "You may not be familiar with slaves but here, their death is inconsequential—save for the economics of it all."

"Is that so?" You look at his pets then back at him. Your breath is dragon-like and your tone hardens, "then relieve your concubines."

"What?" Feyd-Rautha's low voice echoes through the room. His concubines hiss at you from their raised platform.

You stand taller, shoulders back, still clutching Iassa's choker in your hand, "If I am to be your wife, I demand you take no other women."

He takes a moment to determine how serious you are being, then decides it doesn't matter. He walks up the steps surrounding the pit and you aren't given time to react before he has your neck in his grip. "You are in no place to demand such things, Atreides." His black gritted teeth at the last word match the darkness of his voice.

Your hands fly to claw at his wrist, "How dare you lay a hand on me." You struggle against his unrelenting grip, "Let go of me!"

He leans down to your ear, "You're a feisty one, aren't you, little hawk?" You feel his hold continue to tighten and panic rises in your chest. Before you can be rendered speechless, you make a decision.

"UNHAND ME."

The Voice echos from your mouth seizing Feyd-Rautha's mind and his hand releases your throat. As you gasp desperately for air, he attempts to recover from the haze of the mental intrusion. When he finds his bearings, you see the thrill in his dark eyes. Witch, you can almost hear him say.

"Aren't you just full of surprises," he smirks.

"And I will have many more," you say bitterly. Straightening your dress, you regain your self-assured stance and meet his eyes with a cold stare, "Be rid of your harpies before we are wed or I will kill them myself."

You don't spare his concubines a glance as you turn to leave. You don't see the way Feyd-Rautha looks at you, head tilted, as you storm off.

You dismiss Zora and lock yourself in your chambers. Sprawled out on your bed, you stare up at the dark gray ceiling and question what could have possibly possessed you to challenge Feyd-Rautha the way you did. You go back and forth on whether or not it was an overreaction but eventually chalk it up to the Atreides' fiery defiance. Certainly, it wasn't the brightest decision but you sense that your father and brother would not have condemned it. Your heart is still pounding from the encounter. And the flicker in Fey-Rautha's eyes—you dismiss the idea that he might have enjoyed it.

You had hoped to hide your mother's training for longer. She had trained you and Paul in The Voice and Prana-Bindu. As a high-born lady, you could have been sent to a Bene Gesserit School in your formative years, but it was decided against due to Baron Vladimir's thinly veiled aversion to The Sisterhood. So, Lady Jessica resolved to teach you in secret. You were grateful for it anyway as you didn't have to be separated from your family. You think about how your mother would be able to continue to train Paul without you. You had always been more adept at The Voice than him. Now, he has the opportunity to surpass you. The thought triggers your competitiveness against your sibling but the feeling quickly melts into melancholy. You miss him. You miss all of them.

Is this to be your life? Married to a twisted psycho who feeds his concubines human flesh and kills people you care about? You sit up and place Iassa's choker carefully in the drawer of your nightstand. You hoped she didn't fear you as she did the Harkonnens.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. You had really hoped no one would bother you for the rest of the day but then you feel the emptiness in your stomach. You had skipped breakfast that day to confront the na-Baron. When you open the door, Zora is holding a covered tray which you assumed, and hoped, to be lunch.

"Would my lady like to eat in solitude?" she asks after she sets your meal at the small table in your quarters. Your heart sinks. She is so young.

"Ah no, I would like you to stay if that's alright." You sit at your table and cut into your food while Zora stands politely to the side. "I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. The na-Baron—my fiancé—he has caused me some aggravation."

"It is quite alright, my lady," she says, her head bowed low.

After your meal, you ask Zora to fetch you various projections on the planet of Giedi Prime from the Harkonnen archives. You were hesitant to make the request considering the fate of your last servant but you hoped you managed to convince Feyd-Rautha you were not to be trifled with. Besides, what harm could you do by learning about flora and fauna.

You spent the rest of the day watching informative holograms about your new home's ecology and biodiversity. Apparently, one of the planet's greatest exports is wood from the Pilingitam tree which is prized for its pliability when freshly cut but sturdy hardness once aged and dried. It was also anti-fungal and naturally fire-resistant. It was a surprise you didn't see much of it. Everything in the fortress was cold stone and concrete. You wonder how beautiful furniture made out of Pilingitam must be when carved by a skilled artist.

That night, you make sure to lock your door and fall asleep to images of sprawling landscapes.

The following day was similarly spent, watching projections about Giedi Prime's geographical features. You were left undisturbed save for Zora's quiet knocks on your door to serve your meals. Your life as a baroness is days away so you might as well educate yourself. Although, you suppose you should probably focus on politics and history more than the planet's Obsidian Planes but you weren't really in the mood to learn of the Harkonnens' gruesome past right now. You would cross that bridge when you got there.

Come evening, you hear an unfamiliar knock at your door. Zora had already brought you dinner earlier so you are wary as you crack open the door.

"Hello, little hawk." Feyd-Rautha's tall figure looms past the doorway.

You stare him down, making no move to let him in.

He tilts his head slightly, "Would you really kill my darlings?"

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove

[finniestoncrane]

Date, Digger Style

KTJL!Boomer x Fem!Reader, word count: 6k hi i am sorry, this was supposed to be like. a lil silly thing about what a first date with george might be like. and it ended up being 6k words. i just want him so bad it makes me look stupid quite honestly and i am ok with that 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: sleazy behaviour, groping, tongue kissing, just the tip and then not just the tip but agreeably so, lots of physical affection, reader has tits and a vagina, reader is referred to with feminine pet names, descriptions of a gross kitchen, also let's pretend that he's always a lil bit drunk so his drunk driving seems like the normal state of things. he's a villain. he's allowed to break laws lmao (and it's fiction, so i'm allowed to decide what alcohol does to him)

Sitting on the edge of your sofa, you took a quick look at your phone to check the time and to see if you had missed any messages. Nothing. Not even a quick courtesy text with "on my way" typed hastily, or auto filled. You'd been sitting there for twenty minutes already, with no sign of George. If this was what he considered a good start to your first formal 'date' then you two were perhaps too different after all to make this work. He was laid back, to a flaw. Horizontal. And you were more organised, at least more so than George Harkness.

Just as you began typing out a message, you heard the tell-tale screech of the tyres on his van, followed by the rumbling of the engine as he put the brakes on and came out of the creaking door. The sharp buzz at your door was enough for you to know your suspicions were right, and without answering it, you headed downstairs. At the door, you could see Digger, picking at his teeth and tucking the stray strands of hair back under the rim of his hat before he noticed you and struck a pose, goofy smile plastered onto his face.

He moved to grab you when you met him on the steps leading up to your building, but you dodged him, spitting his nickname at him.

"Digger."

"Aw, are you mad cos I'm late? You're not some bloody princess, I think you can wait five minutes!"

"Twenty minutes."

"Twenty, the- Twenty!?"

His eyes were wide as he looked to you, and you offered a solemn and unimpressed nod in response.

"Fuck... alright, that is a bit much. This'll be worth it though, I promise."

Raising an eyebrow, you silently questioned that. You'd known him for a while now, skirted around the conversation, flirted constantly, but turned him down at every offer of a date. And now, when you had finally agreed and given in to his constant pestering, he was going to show up late and not even dressed differently or in clean clothes? You weren't sure it would be worth it. But, if all else failed, you could always count on him to make you laugh, or at very least conjure up a smile. And despite wanting to still maintain an exterior of disappointment, you could feel the corners of your mouth lifting as he opened up the passenger door and gestured to it with his arm, bowing low.

"M'lady, your carriage awaits."

As you stepped up and into the front of the van, the smell was the first thing that hit you. Stale beer, sweat, and about five other scents just indistinct enough to elude your keen nose. Trying not to think about it, you turned to grab your seatbelt and noticed, out of the corner of your eye, that the back of the truck was filled with empty beer cans and bottles, piles of clothing, some dirty and some clean. And in the middle of it all, a mattress, some pillows, and a scattering of sheets.

"Do you live in here?"

"Don't worry about it, babe."

Before you could ask him any follow up questions, he pulled away from the kerb with a stuttering acceleration, and carelessly pulled into traffic. After a few minutes of teeth grinding, life-threatening driving at high speed, he pulled off the main roads and began taking back streets.

Granted, you didn't know where you were going yet, since Digger was insistent on keeping it as a surprise, you still assumed that after ten minutes of nothing but roads dotted with potholes and routes plagued by speedbumps that it was surely quicker to have stayed on the main route until you were closer. However, it became clear that there were intentions behind this path after all, when you turned to question George about the route and found him quickly glancing from the road to your chest, smiling wider every time a bump jostled your body, causing your breasts to jiggle. With a heavy sigh, you turned to look out of the window, concealing the smile that threatened to give away your façade. There was no way you could let him know how oddly flattering you found his constant gawking, that would be a nightmare.

When the van stopped at a red light, you spoke, still looking out of the window, to try and get Digger to tell you where you were going.

"I just would feel better knowing how long we've got left to drive is all."

He reached over to you, placing his hand on your thigh and pressing his fingers and thumb together, squeezing the ample flesh.

"Listen, don't worry about it, we're almost there."

His palm pressed down and skimmed further up your leg, and as you turned to catch his eye, hoping to at least shame him into not continuing his bold heavy petting, you were instead met with his lopsided, careless grin. With one hand on the steering wheel and one permanently on your thigh, he continued driving for another ten minutes, until you were well on the outskirts of the city. When the van finally stopped, you could still hear the tinny rumbling and sharp clinking of the empty bottles and cans bashing around in the back, feeling like it had shrilly inserted itself permanently into your head. But once you had stepped out of the van and the fresh air, plus the odd stench, hit you, you could hear yourself think clear enough to know that you were definitely beginning to regret this decision once more.

"Told ya we wouldn't be much longer! We're here!"

"Where is here?"

"About twenty minutes outside Gotham."

"Digger."

He slapped his hand on your back and pulled you into a side hug, dragging you along as he walked towards the door of the flat roof building with broken neon lights that stood in front of you.

"Ah, come on babe! Get a sense of humour, or you'll always look fuckin' miserable!"

You weren't sure if he could hear your sighing over the sound of the gravel as you made your way to the front door, and he definitely couldn't hear the louder second one you let out when you got inside. The one that was cut short when you realised you could taste the smell that lingered on the air.

Taking your hand, an oddly gentle move from Digger. The moment was gone quickly when he smacked your ass as he ushered you into the dingiest looking booth at the back of the bar.

"George, really? Here?"

"Yeah, babe! This place is great. Cheap beer, good food. I promise, you just gotta trust me, alright?"

Taking a quick look around the place told you otherwise. But there was just something about him you found hard to say no to. Which you imagined would land you in much bigger problems later on, but for now, potential food poisoning and a hangover of the worst order seemed like a fair risk for what would no doubt be a fun night regardless. It always was with George.

"Aw, I know that face! You're on board! Right, I'm gonna go to the bar and get us some drinks and food."

"I don't know what I want though, I haven't looked at the menu."

"Don't have to, I'm getting us the usual. You'll like it, tr-"

"Trust you, yes, I know."

With a wink, he slid out of the booth and you watched him make his way to the bar, leaning on it with his oh-so-cocky attitude as he ordered for you. And when he sat back down, he slid a pint in front of you and began chugging at his own. Looking over the tip of your glass as you sipped, you tried to get a glimpse at the kitchen. From what you could see, it looked like the kind of place that might give any decent health inspector an aneurysm. The chef's clothes were dirty, the walls were a stained yellow colour that seemed as though it was dripping down the walls, and every surface had a strange assortment of crumbs and stains on it. But still, you persevered.

And still, when the plates were slammed down on the table in front of you by the uninterested waitress, you were optimistic. Because you were determined to have a nice time. It was likely that which annoyed you the most of all, because the moment you bit into the greasy sandwich you didn't care in the slightest what kind of health hazard it was prepared in. You just wanted more.

"See, told you it was good."

Nodding in agreement, mouth too full to speak, you swallowed down the rest of the sandwich, although by the time you had finished it and your accompanying beer, Digger was already onto his third pint, and the sandwich was but a memory. Until he burped and you could smell it on his breath, something he found hilarious.

"Lighten up! You try, give it your best shot."

"I'm not having a burping contest with you, George. We're on a date."

"Yeah, but you're on a date with Digger. Way more fun, far less stuffy. Go on."

You mustered up the best you had to offer, cheese and beer and lettuce the most noted flavours in the air you expelled. Closing his eyes for a moment, Digger reached out across the table and took your hands.

"That was, without a doubt... the most pathetic fuckin' burp ever. We gotta get you another drink!"

Before you could say anything, he was already shuffling out of the booth and shakily making his way back to the bar. A bad decision being made and you couldn't really stop him. He could handle his alcohol, definitely, you'd seen him do it a number of times before. Digger could put away what might kill a lesser, for want of a better word, man. But it didn't make him any easier to be around. You'd already found yourself flushing hot, cheeks darkening, a heat building in your stomach with each lingering touch or flirtatious stare. So far this evening, you'd almost kissed him twice. It wasn't going to be any easier to prolong what you felt was the inevitable if he got far too drunk and became his usual, handsy self.

Of course, that's exactly what did happen. One more pint in and Digger was all over you in the booth. He'd leaned in at first to say something to you, speaking over the noise of the bar, close to your ear, his arm reaching up and around you and pulling you close and then keeping you there. As his fingers stroked at your shoulder, the other hand fell to your thigh, periodically squeezing it between his fingers and thumb. And every time you got distracted by how far up your thigh he was snaking his palm, fingers splayed out, pinkie grazing over your crotch, his other hand would pull your attention away as his fingertips skimmed over the top of your breasts.

It was difficult to try and hold him off. You were both tipsy, or at least you were tipsy, Digger seemed to be wasted. No good decision could come from that. But the way he touched you, the way he smelled as he leaned in, sweat, cheap body spray, acrid beer, it was intoxicating. If you'd been any less sober you might have leaned in then and there in the booth to kiss him, tasting the alcohol on his tongue, letting him put his hands all over you, anywhere, anywhere. But luckily, before you could make what you knew was a mistake, he sat back and laughed, one loud and sharp 'ha'.

"I fuckin' love this song, babe! C'mon!"

Before you could argue otherwise, you were being dragged out of the booth to join Digger on the tiny dance floor in front of the band. The song was difficult to dance to, at least you had assumed, given the heavy rock riffs that underlined the inaudible, high volume lyrics. But George wasn't deterred. It was almost endearing, how horrendously embarrassing he was, standing there with his air guitar, throwing goat horns at the band as he bounced on the spot. Cute, nearly. But mercifully cut short as the song ended.

"Aw, just as I was finding my groove."

You smiled at him, rubbing his shoulder in sympathy, biting your inner cheek as you felt how strong he was, impressed by his muscular arm as you let your hand slip down to graze over it.

"A real shame, George. Let's go back to- "

The band started up again, this time, a slower song, one that lent itself well to the kind of 'end of prom' vibes all young lovers were hoping for. And before you could finish your suggestion of heading back to the booth, Digger had pulled you close, his arms around your back, falling to your waist as he swayed back and forth. It could have been dancing, it could have been the uncoordinated shuffling of a man who had one too many beers, but either way, you leaned into it, allowing your head to rest against his chest while you placed your hands, linked together, at the nape of his neck.

It was almost too romantic, in its own, strange way. The dim lights, the other couples around you, the unique twang on the guitars, the stench of the greasy food, and the way George kept his hips, his crotch, pressed tight to you as you leaned against him. Not particularly from a storybook romance, but perfect all the same. You'd known this would happen. One date, and you were already falling for him. Not because of anything he'd done, but because deep down you knew you had been into him, since almost the moment you'd met. But you'd fought it, because men like George Harkness, you assumed, weren't the kind of nice boy you dated.

But here he was, holding you, swaying you, sighing softly as the music swelled. Granted the movements weren't exactly graceful, but they were surprisingly fluid, as though he might be good at dancing when he was sober. Yet another surprise for you to learn about, but obviously not right now. He was trying though, his hands at a respectable height, his head leaning on your shoulder. Every so often, he nuzzled into your cheek, placing a soft kiss to it when the notion took him. And when the song finished, you could hear his words clear, spoken gently into your ear.

"You wanna head out?"

You weren't sure if that was "out" as in "get some fresh air" or "out" as in "let's head home, yours or mine" but either option seemed good. The last remaining bit of sun and a soothing breeze might be enough to sober George up before you brought him back in for more dancing. And if it didn't, you were happy to take him to your place for a coffee, nothing more. Although, you were potentially considering letting him sleep on the sofa. You couldn't imagine how difficult it would be to nurse a hangover in the back of his van.

Outside, finally able to breathe without choking on the stench or the thickness of the air, you watched as Digger shielded his eyes from the sky. His stumbling stopped, and he began walking with his usual confidence, almost sobering up immediately in the light of the day.

"Christ! Still pretty bright out here..."

"Yeah, it's not that late. You tapping out early, George?"

"Nah, nah. Not at all! If I've got you for the night, then I'm havin' you for the night. C'mon, I know a place."

Admittedly, and strangely enough, you really hadn't had enough of him yet. It was one of the few things you agreed on, actually. This was supposed to be a date, you'd set aside the evening for it, so you were keen to make it last as long as possible. You couldn't let George know that, though. Keeping the upperhand seemed to be key with him, so you offered him a reluctant smile and rolled your eyes dramatically.

"Well, I suppose so."

Stepping up into the passenger seat of his van you caught him smiling back at you, knowingly. You weren't kidding him, he wasn't as stupid as he seemed at first pass, but he was kind enough to let you keep up the ruse. It didn't stop him getting a little dig in at you, however.

"Are you sure? If you're not keen I can take you home, babe. Wouldn't want you to be bored or something."

"And where are you planning on taking me that isn't boring, then?"

"Eh... just a little spot I know of. Quiet, secluded. Up that back road to the overlook. But again, if you're not into it..."

"No, no. It sounds... well, it doesn't sound boring, anyway."

Digger laughed, starting up the van which groaned horrendously before sputtering to life. Before he drove off, he turned to you and winked.

"Definitely won't be, it never is with me, babe."

Pulling out of the parking lot, he turned away from the city and onto the quieter roads which led out past the city lines and into the expansive countryside that secluded Gotham from the rest of the world. From the window, you watched the sun slowly setting, clouds turning purple and navy as they pushed in from the sides like curtains on a stage show. You had all the time in the world to gaze peacefully, as George was driving in complete silence, way below the speed limit, focusing intensely on the road. He'd seemed to sober up once you were out of the bar, but you didn't want to distract him while he was doing his best to keep you both alive.

The van bounced along a short dirt trail until it stopped in a small clearing, surrounded by trees on all sides and far above the dim, intrusive glow of the city, which buzzed against the now deep, navy sky. Shutting off the engine, George turned and shot you a smile, eyebrows raised playfully, before he leapt out. He walked quickly to the back of the van and you followed, waiting patiently as he opened the two back doors wide, finally giving you a better look at what had been rolling around there the whole time he had been driving.

There wasn't much you could think to say, being of the opinion that you should only speak if you had kind things to say. From where you were standing, you could definitely tell that you had been correct in your earlier assumptions. This was where he lived. His rolling apartment. Convenient, yes. But it was a long way away from being one of the trendy 'tiny homes' you'd seen. The walls were adorned with four posters in total, all of them the kind of cheap standards you would expect in the bargain bin of some ancient music store, miscellaneous women in very little clothing gazing out as seductively as they could from the airbrushed backdrops. On the floor, there was a stick and poke tattoo kit that looked like it might be the source of several new variants of hepatitis, and it was littered with empty beer bottles and cans, some of which may have been half-full at the point he decided to drive off given how sticky the surfaces looked. And to top it off, there was a worn out mattress. No sheets on it, no sheets around it save for one scruffy blanket. It was covered in stains that you couldn't quite place, which matched the single, dented and almost flat pillow that lay haphazardly to the side.

"You live like this?"

That was what you had wanted to say, but again, your polite nature stopped you.

"Handy to just get in the van and sleep, or get out of bed and go."

George smiled, looking oddly proud of himself.

"See, you get it. You won't believe the amount of people who have been put off by- uh... well..."

He looked to the ground, rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand.

"Not that there's been that many people I've invited into- A-and not that there haven't been any people that have been-"

"George."

You placed a hand on his shoulder and raised your eyebrows, offering him a sympathetic grin. He took the out, thankful that you'd put an end to his suffering, and reached in for the blanket, placing it flat over the top of the bed before offering his hand to you. Taking it, he helped you shift yourself into the back of the van, watching as you got comfortable on the mattress as best as you could, at which point he joined you.

Leaning back on his arms, he looked to the sky, sitting in silence for a few minutes. You had joined him, watching the stars start to sparkle as they became visible against the darkening backdrop. At some point, you realised that he was staring at you, and you wondered how long you'd had his gaze trained on the side of your head. Not on any other part of your body, you noted. He was looking at your face, gazing at your eyes. When you turned, you caught his stare immediately, smiling softly when he blinked and looked away with a cough meant to clear the air of the awkwardness he was bringing about.

Rooting around behind him, he eventually found two unopened beer cans, both of which were loose amongst the rest of his belongings. Keeping one for himself, he passed the other to you. He raised his, tipping his head with a 'cheers' and then cracked it open. You watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, a small trickle of foam slipping past his lips and down his chin. The urge to lean in and lick it off was disturbing, most of all because you felt yourself moving towards him before you even realised it. Settling back down into the strange romance of the moment, you pulled the tab on your own can.

The immediate explosion, the build up of pressure and gasses from the can being jostled around as you drove up the bumpy, dirt track to the spot you now sat in, left you in shock. Your shirt was soaked, completely, and the cool air was already beginning to chill your body. You blinked in shock, watching as Boomer tried to conceal his giggles while he stood up.

"Take your shirt off."

Looking to him, you raised an eyebrow, a look that said "is this really how you're going to make that move?" in a way that he read almost straight away. He began unzipping his blue hoodie, turning from you and passing it behind him, generously, and uncharacteristically, offering you some privacy.

Taking it from him, you quickly made the swap, your body exposed to the cold night air only briefly before you zipped up the hoodie, still warm from Digger's body. You tucked your bra and shirt under the mattress, making a mental note to collect them before you were home, hoping they would be dry. Making sure the zip was up completely, not offering any suggestive cleavage for Digger to hook his ideas into, you settled yourself, noticing that you were smiling. You could smell him on the fabric that covered your body. Beer, sweat, lingering smoke, an acrid smell you couldn't quite place and a sweet one on top of that. As the fabric grazed over you, you could feel your nipples hardening. It wasn't the cold though, it was faint arousal at the way you felt so close to him.

"You done yet, you're only putting a hoodie on!"

"Shit, yeah, sorry."

"I can look?"

He raised his hands, pulling them from his pockets and holding them up to his side, questioningly.

"Mhm, yeah."

When he was facing you again, he let his lips turn into an appreciative expression.

"Looks good. Suits you!"

Thudding back down beside you, George immediately lifted his arm up, wrapping it around your body and pulling you close. You found yourself settling into the hug, a natural embrace, one that made your heart flutter slightly as you let your head rest entirely against him. And then it happened, the moment that secured your confusion about him and his intentions. He sighed wistfully. So deep and joyous, his fingers digging into your arm to let you know you were the reason for the warmth spreading through him.

"It's nice out here, you can actually see the stars. Couldn't tell you what any of them were though."

"Are you kidding me right now?"

He turned slightly to look at you.

"What?"

"What? What are you doing? You brought me up here to look at the stars?"

George narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing in confusion and slight irritation.

"Yeah! I thought it would be romantic!"

"Exactly!"

"Exa-... what?"

"You're so confusing. This whole evening, you yourself, it's not how I thought it would be. I mean, it wouldn't be you without the occasional grope and cheeky wink, but you've been so... You're so... It's weird to see you being so..."

Digger's hand fell to your thigh, a light pressure aiming to calm you down.

"So what?"

You couldn't answer it, because you weren't even able to settle on a definitive answer yourself.

So confusing?

So disgusting?

So gentlemanly?

So romantic?

So hot?

All of that and more.

And when words had failed you, you decided that you'd have to express your feelings another way.

It was less of a romantic, graceful move and more that you sank into him, falling against his body, your lips luckily making contact with his as you both found your way in the kiss. Neither of you expected it, both of you surprised. The tenderness, the hunger behind it. You could taste everything about him, smell him even better than you had when you had put on his hoodie. You expected he was experiencing the same.

Digger fell back, his hands catching your waist as he pulled you with him, both of you laying now on the mattress in the back of his van. His hands pawed, grabbed, skimmed over you, oddly restrained in fact. That was until you shifted yourself up and onto him, straddling his hips and staring down at him, panting heavily as you both caught your breath and took stock of the situation you were now in. His hands on your waist made their way up to your shoulders, your neck, cupping your cheeks as he grinned at you. Watching your face, your expression, for any subtle changes as he let his hands trail back down your front, fingers catching on to the zip of his hoodie and pulling it down slowly, opening it to expose you to him before he cupped at your breasts as you bit your lip.

"Fuck me..."

Digger let out a low groan that followed his short, to the point statement. His fingers circled your nipples, tightening around them as he teased you. His hips bucked up, jostling you, letting you feel how hard he was. You could tell just from that motion that the rumours about how gifted he was had truth behind them.

Bending down to kiss him again, you let your tongue slip past his lips, his own meeting in your mouth. He tasted divine. Sweet, but acidic. Earthy almost, definitely addictive. Everything felt dream like, surreal. Mostly, you assumed, because you were doing something you'd never dream of, something you knew was ill-advised, a little bit silly, embarrassing in the right company. But it was hard to care.

You were quickly brought out of the dream like state however, as you felt Digger's hands between both of your crotches, unbuckling his belt and fiddling with the zipper on his jeans.

"Wait... on the first date? You think you've charmed me enough for that?"

With the smug, self-satisfied grin you had grown oddly fond of, George looked into your eyes as he spoke.

"I think you started this, so it's a pretty good indication of how much I've charmed you."

He winked as he let his fingers tug at the waistband of your own pants, pulling at them as you leaned in to another kiss. Your attempts to stop him, or at least to pretend that was your intention, were put to one side as your body reacted to the feeling of the cool air against your bare skin, his hands, rougher than you expected, holding your thighs, pulling your pants down further until he needed you to move.

"Well... have I charmed the pants off you at least?"

Smiling back at him, you nodded your head from side to side as though you were weighing up his efforts over the evening.

"I suppose you have charmed the pants off me, yes. But... I'm not sure how much further your winning personality has gotten you."

"There's plenty of time for me to catch up, then."

Clumsily, and with very little grace, you shifted and removed your pants, blushing as you noticed Digger watching you intensely, taking note of every movement, every second of you undresssing, as though you were offering him the performance of a lifetime. As you steadied yourself, he hooked his fingers into the band of your underwear and pulled you back to him, landing you flat on top o f his body, your hands on his chest.

Teasing at the band of your panties, he dipped two fingers underneath the fabric, skating over your mound and down to your lips, stroking them gently before spreading them apart. He rubbed one finger up and down, collecting your slick as he licked his lips, desperate to know how you tasted. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he ran them on his tongue, sucking them with his eyes rolling back.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck me."

He continued unzipping his pants and pulling them down, boxers included, to reveal his more than impressive cock. At least ten inches, easily, thick, perfect, topped with a tuft of almost flaming red hair. Trying to control yourself, you leaned back.

"What are you planning on doing with that, Harkness?"

He squirmed, pressing his eyes shut and biting his lip before he managed to strain himself enough to speak.

"I just want... I want you... touch it... feel you... something... come on, please!"

Shuffling forward, teasing him knowingly as you felt his head, his length, against your thighs, you mused out loud, humming as though you were actually considering it, as though you hadn't already made your mind up yet.

"I suppose... this was a pleasant enough date. I could give you something, throw you a bone."

He nodded furiously below you, muttering his words of agreement.

"But! Just the tip. I'm not sure how much more of that I could take. It should come with a warning."

George actually blushed, looking away from you for a moment, as though the comment had genuinely embarrassed him. It did seem odd to you in that moment that he wasn't constantly bragging about his prowess in that area. He struck you as exactly the kind of person who would mention the size of his cock at any opportunity. You wondered if had the effect on others that it had on you. It was daunting, a little bit nerve-wracking. How many of the few people who had made it this far had given up at the sight of it, you wondered.

Most, you assumed, as despite how desperate he seemed to fuck you, he agreed enthusiastically, happy to be offered any opportunity to get as close to you as possible. He was already pulling at your underwear, grasping at it, trying to pull it down before deciding to push it to the side as he lined up the head of his cock with your swollen lips.

Looking directly at you he maintained the intense eye contact as he slid himself between your lips, pushing at your tight entrance slowly, carefully, only allowing his head to enter you. It felt amazing. So good, better than you thought. It stretched, filled you up, and that was ten percent of what he had to give. He hissed, gritting his teeth in concentration, trying his hardest not to move his hips, to buck them, to push himself any further inside of you.

As you balanced yourself, trying to contend with the little of him that was inside of you, he brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing it, making you twitch, contracting against him, tightening the grip your cunt had on his head. As he groaned, you couldn't help yourself anymore. You wanted him, all of him. You were willing to risk it.

"God, George... just fuck me."

"Wh-what?"

"Fuck me! Just..."

Realising you might need to take matters into your own hands, you let yourself slide down his cock, each inch stretching you further, a shockwave of pain followed by dull throbs of ache and arousal coarsed through your body, the pit of your stomach feeling pressed, your insides stuffed with him. Llike you were being entirely consumed, enveloped, in George Harkness.

"Christ..."

It was all he could manage with the limited breath he had, his whole body stopping any other function to focus on not letting himself cum inside of you immediatel. The sudden warmth, the tight, wet embrace, the way you leaned back, breasts bouncing as helped yourself to him, riding his cock as he lay back and held your hips. His thumbs, stroking against your skin, where the top of your thighs met your lower stomach, feeling your own desperation as you worked him harder, faster, palms resting on his chest to balance yourself as you took everything he had.

Brows furrowed in concentration, pursuing your orgasm, you wailed as his fingers found their way back to your nipples, teasing them, grabbing at your breasts as you rolled your hips and felt his cock twitching agaisnt your walls. It hurt, but in a way that was delicious, a way that felt like it should be borderline illegal, like most things that provided such a wonderful, addictive experience were. But there you were, enjoying it. Loudly, explicitly. And very publicly. It didn't matter to you, and it really didn't seem to matter to George. You were quite happy to scream it from the rooftops then and there, how much you were enjoying it. Being fucked by Captain Boomerang, as ridiculous as his name always seemed to you. You'd be quite content to tell everyone that he was making you cum, that he was one stroke of his thumb against your erect nipples, one tap of his cock against the exact spot inside of you, from losing all composure.

"George... George..."

"Yeah... yeah, it's good... eh? I'm good."

"Fuck, you are. Yeah. Yes! Yes!"

One final, loud, resounding 'yes' echoed around you, filling the air, bursting through the trees. You imagined that anyone within a five mile radius might have heard Digger coming. His cock, falling from you against his body, still dripping with your slick, still spurting streams of his thick, white cum all over his abdomen, covering his thick pubic hair. His hands, still embedded in your skin, creating deep, red marks where the grip was far too tight, stinging so perfectly pleasantly.

Your own notes of pleasure hadn't exactly been all that much quieter than his own, but still drowned out by the amped up grunting and wailing of George. At least you could hold that saving grace. Allow yourself to cling to that modicum of your dignity.

Because you certainly weren't bothered about any other facets of it, as you slid down beside George on the dingy mattress, curling around his body, hand on his chest, smugly satisfied to know that you had contributed to the stains that would no doubt be a permanent feature.

[xxsabitoxx]

NSFW Alphabet With The Hantengu Clones

Sekido | Karaku | Aizetsu | Urogi x AFAB reader

Warning: this whole post contains smut

A/N: I am here to provide for y’all. I’m going to try and get as much Hantengu clone content out as I can this week LMAO. I am determined to pioneer and fill the clones’ smut tags

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Sekido: he’s quiet for once, though he won’t necessarily comfort you after everything he put you through. He’s more or less going to offer you a wet cloth to clean yourself but he won’t do it for you. He’ll share the bed after to sleep but that’s it.

Karaku: talkative and teasing, he’s going to push your tangled hair out of your face and comment about how fucked out you look. He’ll clean you up but isn’t exactly gentle. He’ll lay beside you after but not cuddle, more or less lay shoulder to shoulder.

Aizetsu: he needs praise, he’ll tell you how good you were but he needs you to do the same for him. He prefers if you clean each other up opposed to doing it alone. He’s big on spooning after, big or small spoon, it doesn’t matter to him so long as he’s touching you

Urogi: everything is a competition, when it comes to aftercare he’s determined to be the best at it. He’ll give you whatever you need, clean you up, give you water, help you walk and care for the accidental wounds from his claws. He’s also a fan of cuddling.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

Sekido: his hands and his biceps. Your neck, he’s obsessed with biting it and leaving angry looking teeth marks on your skin.

Karaku: his chest and his abs. Your ass, he loves to hit it, squeeze it, scratch it. He loves when it turned bright red after hitting it hard.

Aizetsu: his hands. Your everything. There is not one part of you that he doesn’t adore, he finds all of it attractive

Urogi: his abs and his thighs. To be blunt, he loves your pussy. He’s not ashamed to say that either, he’ll gladly proclaim it to anyone.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Sekido: prefers to cum inside, finds it the easiest to clean up that way. He’s not very fond of making a mess with his cum

Karaku: loves to cum down your throat or on your face. He likes how pathetic you look covered in his cum

Aizetsu: he cums wherever he feels like it, he likes seeing your ass covered in it but he also likes seeing it seep out of you

Urogi: his goal is always to cum inside rather than on you, that means in your mouth, your cunt or in your ass

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Sekido: he loves when you have a sharp tongue and degrade him. It doesn’t happen often but he loves how it makes him feel. He’s angry, always in a bad mood, sex is the only thing that is able to calm him for a bit and when you talk back it only fuels is desire to unwind

Karaku: secretly wants you hurt him. He can regenerate, you’d have zero chance at actually causing him real, lasting harm. But he wants you to cut him up, hurt him, make him beg you to stop all the while you’re using his dick like a personal toy

Aizetsu: he wants you to tie him up and use him, leave him there for hours at a time, hard and leaking and waiting for you to satisfy him. He wants you to edge him until he’s crying and begging, just like he does to you. Though he often gets upset with you…

Urogi: he wants to fuck you in the wilderness. Given the fact that he can fly, he can get the two of you to some pretty fascinating places. Want to fuck on the side of a mountain? On top of someone’s house? Up in the trees? You name it, he’s sure he can find it.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

Sekido: he’s had his fair share over the last century but he’s also selfish in bed. He knows what he’s doing but he thinks you need to earn it. Prove to him that you deserve it.

Karaku: he knows what he’s doing but he hasn’t had as much experience as Sekido. He’s more laid back and doesn’t mind his partner taking the lead and showing him a thing or two.

Aizetsu: initially he had no idea, just a lot of fumbling and confusion at first. He excels if he has a partner with experience and would rather you show him what you want to do

Urogi: he has experience from peeping on people, over the last century his appearance has made it harder to actually go out and put his acquired skills to use. Luckily he has you

F= Favorite position

Sekido: mating press

Karaku: cowgirl

Aizetsu: doggy

Urogi: butterfly

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

Sekido: extremely serious. Like no joking, no smart comments, fully serious and fully focused

Karaku: a healthy mix of goofy and serious. He’s more laid back, making slick comments here and there

Aizetsu: fairly serious, he isn’t one to really make jokes in general, more or less he’s too focused and a bit worried to even attempt

Urogi: completely unserious. He’s going to make sly comments, crack jokes at your expense

H= Hair (grooming habits)

Sekido: bald, the hair annoys him

Karaku: trimmed, he keeps up with it

Aizetsu: trims it occasionally but usually he lets it be

Urogi: completely untamed, not one fuck given

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Sekido: rough, there are a few intimate moments but most of the time he’s focused on blowing off some steam

Karaku: dirty, filthy even. He’s not afraid to be intimate but most of the time he’s doing this to fulfill desires opposed to romance

Aizetsu: romantic unintentionally, his constant need for praise and reassurance definitely helps

Urogi: heathy mix of romantic and rough, he’s smart enough to know what you enjoy. That way you won’t leave

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Sekido: never… which is probably why he’s so damn mad

Karaku: any chance he gets

Aizetsu: rarely, he’s a bit embarrassed of it

Urogi: he’d find someone to fuck before resorting to it

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Sekido: he’s a sadist, enjoys BDSM, Dacryphilia all the way

Karaku: he enjoys bondage, Somnophilia, and degrading

Aizetsu: massive praise kink, discipline, impact play

Urogi: breeding kink, asphyxiation, lactation

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

Sekido: private and practical, prefers the bedroom

Karaku: not ashamed of being caught but prefers to keep it inside. Would rather a couch, bed or table

Aizetsu: bedroom or bathroom, too scared of being caught

Urogi: anywhere and everywhere. Wherever you want and wherever he can take you

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

Sekido: when you’re a brat. He wants nothing more than to put you in your place and remind you that he’s superior

Karaku: cute/revealing clothing. Any inch of skin you tease is enough to rile him up

Aizetsu: praising and complimenting him. He’s a bit sensitive and can get easily worked up by the simplest of affirmations

Urogi: trying to run away. He loves a good game of cat and mouse, finding it cute and exciting that you think you can escape him

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

Sekido: slapping, yeah he’s pretty angry most of the time but he refused to intentionally hurt you / touch your face in such a way

Karaku: role play, he doesn’t get it. He’s a fucking demon, either you take him as he is or not at all, he doesn’t get why you’d want him to act like something he isn’t

Aizetsu: bladder patience, if there is a chance he may get embarrassed, he’s not into it all at

Urogi: blindfolds, he needs you to look at him and he needs to see your pretty face. He won’t settle for anything less.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

Sekido: given that he has the most experience, he’s pretty well versed in the world of oral

Karaku: quick learner and quick to please, he’s cocky about his oral skills and even likes to annoy Sekido by saying he’s better

Aizetsu: he needed some guidance at first, but once he got the hang of it, there was no going back. He’s pretty good

Urogi: a bit aggressive but very eager, he knows what he’s doing and won’t stop until he gets his way

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Sekido: he’s rough and has a lot of stamina, he can last three or four rounds before needing to slow down. Willpower of a god though, he can hold off his own orgasm for a good 10-15 minutes inside of you.

Karaku: he’s a bit more sensitive but tries to act like he’s not, that being said, he can only go about two rounds before getting too sensitive and overheated. Lasts about 2-4 minutes each time he’s inside of you

Aizetsu: not a one and done deal but he definitely needs a minute after coming once, he’s lasting 3 minutes tops once he actually gets inside. He’s a bit shy about it but your reassurance helps

Urogi: fucking feral, he could go on for hours, round after round without needing a break. Each time he’s inside of you he can last about 5 minutes or longer before it’s too much to hold back

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Sekido: If you've pissed him off enough then absolutely, I don’t think it’s possible for him to go slow/easy even if he wanted to

Karaku: Similar to Sekido, it really depends on if you do something to piss him off. Which is a more impressive feat in the long run. I see him typically not being in a rush

Aizetsu: never, he likes going at his own pace and doesn’t appreciate being put on a time limit nor does he like the feeling of being obligated to do something

Urogi: he’s the most feral of the four imo, therefore any chance he gets… he’s going to take it. Time crunch or not he’s going to snatch that opportunity right up

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

Sekido: rarely, unless he has a very intense desire to try something

Karaku: risky, he's not opposed to trying new things

Aizetsu: not really keen on trying new things, you'll have to persuade him into it.

Urogi: very risky, there are few things he won't try

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

Sekido: 3-4 rounds, starting strong and able to last 10-15 minutes for the first two rounds, round three and four he dwindles to 5-10 minutes

Karaku: 2 rounds before needing a break, he can last about 2-4 minutes each time. Foreplay is more his thing

Aizetsu: 1 round before needing a break, 3 minutes max. He’s sensitive and trying to build up his tolerance. Stamina isn’t an issue, he’s just really fucking sensitive

Urogi: the only way he’s stopping is if he passes the fuck out. He’s feral in every since, stamina lasting him 5 minutes at least once he gets inside. They only time he takes a brief break is if you beg.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Sekido: he works with what he has, but sometimes that’s simply not enough. He’s more than willing to use toys if it means they can get the job done in a satisfying manner

Karaku: obsessed with vibrators, he loves the way you squirm because of him, the way you tense and flex around his cock.

Aizetsu: hesitant because he doesn’t want them to replace him. He needs to feel that importance, to know he’s the one that brings you that pleasure. Sometimes toys can ruin his confidence

Urogi: never, he has everything you need, he’s sure of it. Toys would just be a useless addition. Though his opinion may change if you sneak one in

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

Sekido: he's rude, teasing you until you're sobbing and pleasuring himself in front of you and leaving you untouched. Super unfair.

Karaku: unfair to an extent, the suspense is fun for him but perhaps not so much for you. He'll give in eventually.

Aizetsu: he's pretty fair, mostly because he can't contain himself from time to time and thinks its just easier to give in

Urogi: he's fair unintentionally, he's too damn horny to bother holding back. Which results in nearly equal amounts of pleasure for both of you

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

Sekido: grunts and groans but rarely talks, even then he tries to keep the noises he makes quiet

Karaku: he’s a moaner and he’s not ashamed of it, he’ll use dirty talk the whole time as well

Aizetsu: he whimpers and whines and even cries, it’s the one thing he’s not embarrassed about either

Urogi: this mother fucker screams, he’s yelling, howling even, not one bit ashamed of how good you make him feel

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

I don't have individual HCs for them at the moment, but I do have a group HC in a modern AU setting. The four of these mother fuckers are stoners and you can't tell me otherwise. Karaku is the dealer who supplies his brothers. The apartment they share often reeks of weed, and one of them always has smoke seeping out from under their closed bedroom door. Stoned sex is a common situation.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Sekido: 5.7 inches when hard, no curve

Karaku: 5.3 inches when hard, slight curve

Aizetsu: 4.8 inches when hard, curved

Urogi: 5.5 inches when hard, no curve

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

Sekido: moderate

Karaku: moderate-high

Aizetsu: low-moderate

Urogi: very high

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

Sekido: within ten minutes

Karaku: depending on the time, right away or within a few hours

Aizetsu: under five minutes

Urogi: he’s only stopping if he passes out

[campingwiththecharmings]

Thaw

AN: Yeah. I wrote a Miguel O'Hara fic lmao many thanks to all the enablers that helped make this possible 😘❤️

(Un-beta’d) (barely proofread, apologies for any grammatical mistakes)

Being a leader isn't easy, and sometimes even Spider-Man needs someone else to take the lead.

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,028 Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader Warnings: p in v, kissing, cockwarming, mild biting, sub!Miguel, soft!Miguel (I have not read any of the comics so, apologies if this is at all ooc) AO3

——————

You can always tell when the pressure is starting to get to him, when the weight of being the leader has become almost too much for him to bear. His temper is short most of the time anyway these days, but when he starts blowing up at every little thing, you know it’s time for you to step in. 

So, you do. 

And he lets you. 

His grasp on your hand is tight as you lead him to your shared apartment, squeezing your hand as if you’ll slip away if he lets go for even a second. Once inside, you lead him over to the couch, pausing to turn and look at him. He’s on edge, seemingly every muscle tense as you study him. You frown a little before positioning him so that his back is facing the couch. He doesn’t fight you, instead just watches you intently with his dark, red eyes. You place a hand on his chest and gently push him toward the couch, wordlessly telling him to sit. He does, eyes locked on yours as you follow, climbing into his lap, your knees bracketing his hips. 

His hands fall to your hips, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises as he tries to push your hips down onto his. You swallow a moan and lean in, your mouth hovering over his. 

“No, Miguel,” you tell him, voice soft.  

Understanding alights in his eyes after a moment and he sighs, his grip on your hips lessening as you lean in to kiss him. You start out soft and slow, your lips pressing lightly against his in gentle pecks. When you brush your tongue against the seam of his lips, he groans, the tension melting from his body as he parts them, allowing you to slip inside. You lick into his mouth, the points of his fangs catching against your tongue with every sweep, making you moan.  

You rut against his lap as you kiss, your movements unhurried. He’s completely pliant beneath you when you pull back, his eyes heavy-lidded when he opens them to look at you. 

“Take off your shirt,” you whisper, reaching for the hem of your own and pulling it over your head.  

You toss it and it hits the floor with a dull thud, Miguel’s shirt and your bra following shortly thereafter. He moans at the feel of your bare skin against his when you press into him again, reclaiming his lips in another soft kiss. You grind against him, enjoying the soft sighs and groans he lets slip with every brush of your clothed heat against his cock. His fingers lightly skim up and down your back and you shiver, your own delving into his hair.  

You take mercy on him when his groans begin to sound desperate and choked, your hips stilling as his hands clench and unclench against your back. You pull away, meeting his lust-blown eyes, and smile, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair. He leans into your touch, his sharp cheekbones brushing against the palm of your hand, and something inside your chest warms at the softness. You lean in, pressing your lips to his cheek, kissing your way back toward his ear where you tell him exactly what you have planned for him (“I’m gonna take you deep and ride you slow. Would you like that, baby?”). 

Once you’re both completely naked, you sink onto his length, his hands on your hips for support. You gasp against his lips as he bottoms out, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. He buries his face in your neck and groans as your body squeezes him.  

“That's it, good boy,” you soothe, smiling when his breath hitches. 

You moan when you start to move, your hips tilting, as you undulate slowly in his lap. He nips at your neck, his sharp bites sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body, disrupting your pace.  

“Touch me,” you breathe, bringing one of his hands to your breast. 

He sighs something in Spanish against your neck, his large hand squeezing your breast gently. His thumb teases your nipple as he pulls back, and you gasp, your cunt fluttering around his cock so hard he almost comes. The tension is back in neck again as he tries not to, his jaw clenching from the effort. You lean in to kiss him again, hips still rising and falling over him as your arms wrap around his neck.  

“It’s okay, baby, I want you to come,” you whisper, stroking the back of his head, your breath hitching as his cock hits that special spot inside you. “Want you to fill me up.” 

His groan is choked, almost broken, his hands clenching on your hips and you know he’s close. You pull back and cup his face in your hand, thumb swiping across his cheek. He looks at you with lust-glazed, pleading eyes, and you know he’s trying to hold out, that he wants you to come first. You smile softly at him, gently churning your hips. “Come for me.” 

He grunts, eyes rolling back, jaw slackening as he convulses beneath you, spending himself deep inside your warm cunt. You moan at the feeling, stilling your hips as he relaxes once more. He shivers a little as he comes down, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a sigh.  

“Need to feel you come around me, amor,” he murmurs, his voice slightly muffled as he mouths at your skin. “Please.” 

You bite your lip, heat already twisting in your gut again as you slip your hand down to your sex. You toy with your clit, rolling it between your fingertips, the delicious friction sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You come with a moan, shaking as your cunt squeezes his spent cock, dragging breathless groans from between his lips. You sag against him, burrowing into his chest as you come down, his strong arms holding you in place. 

“Better?” you slur, eyelids heavy as sleep threatens to take you. 

He presses a kiss to your head, humming as he tightens his arms around you. “Better.”

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