#however i do now smell like wet dog

[mayakern]

boy bath was successful

[toji-sweetheart]

18+ only content - mdni

tags: pregnant! fem reader + pregnancy sex + car sex + repost

Summer months always brought out one of Toji's favorite things.

Sundresses.

He's pretty sure that's how you ended up pregnant.

You were settled in bed going through your boxes of clothes trying to figure out what you wanted and what to give away when Toji shuffled in ready to lay on the mattress until he caught sight of the dress.

It was one he'd seen before.

How amazing it looked on you, the way your breasts all but spilled over the top, and if you had to bend over? His eyes were glued to your ass so were his hands that grabbed a palmful of cheeks.

You always enjoyed the attention and how your husband still flirted with you like he was chasing you for the first time. It was a wonder you didn't get pregnant on the first date you both had.

Now years later you were attempting to slip on that same dress with a swollen belly that only added to the layer of attraction Toji felt for you and it didn't matter how you felt about it either, to him you were the sexiest and most beautiful woman out there.

While he wasn't a poet, he still had a way of making you feel sexy even when you felt like a cow, leaking breasts, a stomach round and protruding making the sundress a lot shorter than what it was.

"Ugh! Are you kidding me!?" You growled in frustration trying your best to yank the fabric of your ass over and over as you stood in front of the mirror getting ready for a day out with Toji to do some shopping for your daughter, some more clothes and diapers.

You had no idea that your husband had come back home earlier from a shift he picked up, any of them he could get he did to help pay for the expenses especially your cravings that seem to come at 2 am.

When you had stomped down the steps still in the sundress that barely covered your ass to look for your shoes, Toji followed you like a dog after a bone, his hands coming down to swat at your ass softly.

"Damn. You goin' out like that? I'll have to pluck eyeballs out." He mumbled, his eyes glued to the way the fabric swished and when you tried to bend over only for him to see your pussylips he lost it.

You rolled your eyes and huffed attempting to reach for your shoes before Toji swiped them up and pointed to the couch. "I have nothing that fits anymore! I'm a fat cow!" You whined and pouted sitting down as he helped you and crouched down to put your shoes on for you.

"You're growin' a human being in you, you're not fat, you're knocked up with my baby giving her life. Stop sayin' that shit." His words were a little crass but they made you smile as he looked at you warmly.

His look never failed to give you butterflies, nor did his touch.

However, after the seven months you've been pregnant he's been able to pick up on your moods and right now wasn't the best time to get his dick wet, all he had to do was wait for the right time.

Ever since you found out you were having his baby your sense of smell has been heightened making everything much more sensitive so when Toji sprayed your favorite cologne on him before leaving you were all over him nuzzling your face into his shirt and back.

"What do you think about this? She'll be here in the cold-" Toji was interrupted when you slid your hands under his shirt right in the middle of the clothing aisle not caring if anyone saw.

You weren't blind.

Your husband is a very good-looking man so it was natural that women would stare and ogle him, nudging their friends to see the tall and dark and handsome man with his very pregnant wife.

Green eyes looked at you with amusement and he knew that your pussy was throbbing, swollen, and sensitive as all your blood rushed to between your legs. "Toji." You tugged on his shirt with a pout.

That's all it took for you to end up cowgirl style sitting on his lap with his cock buried deep inside you while you both sat in the backseat of the car that he barely had time to move in the way back of the parking lot making sure you wouldn't get caught having sex in the middle of the day, no one could see you both.

"So needy for dick and you wonder how you ended up pregnant." He teased burying his face between your tits as he helped you ride him, the exertion didn't take much with all the pressure on your internal organs and your lungs didn't feel like they fully inflate, and with your daughter using your bladder as a trampoline you tired easily.

Your fingers that stayed buried in his hair tugged on the dark locks when he hit a certain spot that had you squealing his name while clawing at his shoulders, your movements went from bouncing to grinding your clit on his pelvic bone moaning and whimpering.

Toji knew that he wanted to keep you nice and pregnant if this was how you acted.

[toxycodone]

ship. Laios Touden x Reader

content. nsfw + gender neutral reader + period sex + bloodplay/kink

You and Laios have a pretty decent sex life. It’s a lot smoother than most couples. Laios is surprisingly into trying new things. The two of you share your kinks pretty openly. (Which is pretty necessary, considering that Laios is such an avid fan of roleplay…but that’s another story).

You two are in bed, kissing and messing around a little. This is common, you two gently feeling each other up. It doesn’t always go farther than this—most of the time it’s just you showing some affection—but it takes a little turn when Laios’s fingers start to trail under your night shorts.

Your breath catches in your throat, but not in a usual positive sense. You stop Laios in his tracks by grabbing his wrist.

“Hey, stop.” He abides. Before he can look at you puppy dog eyes and fall over himself apologizing, you speak. “I’m on my period. Didn’t want you to accidentally stick your fingers in blood.”

You expect his face to twist in discomfort, for Laios to do his usual dorky laugh to offset the awkwardness and for him to cuddle you to sleep. However…he gets that look. The one where his expression doesn’t really change, and you can see the cogs start to turn in his mind. He can’t be…?

“Are you in the mood?” He asks. He’s avoiding what’s really on his mind by testing how you feel. You just go along with it instead of pressing for now.

“To be honest, yeah.” You shrug. “But I don’t need to do anything.” ���Well…” Laios looks away from you before spouting his biology facts. “Y’know, an orgasm releases endorphins. Dopamine. Oxytocin. The good chemicals, happy ones.” His fingers dip under your waistband again now. He doesn’t seem thwarted by the fact you’re on your cycle. “If you want…I don’t mind. Y’know, I can... Help you. Make you feel good, and—“

“Just say what’s on your mind Laios.”

He takes a breath, then sighs it out. Laios’s cheeks flush pink as he speaks.

"I still want to have sex with you. Even though you're on your period, I'm curious. I wanna try it."

"Are you sure?' You ask. He might be a bit swayed by different forms of media. So you want to ensure he knows what he's getting into. "It's messy. And it smells. And you're gonna get blood all over yourself if you do."

He nods, but his interest hasn't been quelled. He's oddly into this. Really into this.

"You just really want to know what it tastes like, huh?"

Cue his cute little blush.

Laios scrambles to get a towel when you give him the go ahead. Of course he wants to experience this, but he knows he can't just hop on into it. He wants to make sure you're comfortable and into it as well before he starts exploring.

Laios is EXTREMELY into period sex. You're so warm, so wet without him even trying. Sex this way is one of his favorite things to do. And it helps that each orgasm he gives you makes your cramps and other symptoms much less severe.

He really leans into the more primal side of it. Some things still linger from his time as a monster, and one of those is his affinity for blood. The sight and smell of it drives him wild. He'll start to growl and fuck you more roughly, digging his fingernails into your skin while he pounds into you. (Also...since the risk of pregnancy is low on your period...he's finishing balls deep inside. He cant resist the urge.)

And his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck when he finishes. The taste of your blood is addictive to him...you bring out a more monstrous side of Laios that's gotten buried deep within his psyche.

Your blood acts like an aphrodisiac to him. His senses are much more sensitive. You smell weak--like prey--and he wants to take advantage of you. He'll make sure he has his fill of all you have to offer and then some.

And speaking of tasting your blood...period head is always on the table. That coppery taste others may refuse is one he finds delicious (blame his appetite and newfound monstrous palette).

It's actually a sight to behold. Laios's mouth stained with blood as he's buried between your thighs. He'll look up at yours, eyes dark with lust, before gripping the meat of your thigh and pulling you flush against him again so he can consume you with fervor.

And Laios is SO ridiculously shameless about it too. After you've spent yourself on his face, he'll rest his chin on your stomach and wipe his mouth off with the back of his hand--only to lick the blood smears off his pale skin. It's so obvious he enjoys eating you.

[appocalipse]

RIGHT WHERE I WANT TO BE : ̗̀➛ SIRIUS BLACK

summary: it's only when lily accidentally spills amortentia on you and all you can smell is cigarettes and dog fur that you realize you're in love with sirius — probably the only person in the world you shouldn't be in love with.

"Oh, crap!" Lily seems on the verge of panic as she stares at the fresh stain on your clothes. "I'm so sorry!"

Somewhat shocked, you reach your hand to the front of your uniform and try to rub it away. It's no use. "It's okay," you assure her gently, relieved that the liquid didn't spill on the clean set of clothes you were folding instead, "it was an accident."

You put the clothes safely away in the trunk near your bed. They still have the fresh and clean scent of lavender. Your uniform, however…

Lily points her wand at your chest, and the stain quickly disappears. She had rushed through the entrance of the dormitory fast as lightning, crashing right into you and spilling…

Well, what exactly?

"Lily," you bring a hand to your own face, sniffing, then sniffing again. "What is this? It smells like a wet dog and-"

Your eyes meet and you immediately dislike the look on her face. Too much restrained excitement slowly bubbling up...

"-cigarettes…" you trail off, some sort of realization dawning on you way too late.

It can't be.

Lily bites her lower lip as if trying to hold back a smile. "Is that what it smells like to you?"

You also catch the scent of quill ink and freshly brewed coffee, so it can only be…

You put your hand away from your nose as if it's on fire.

"Tell me this is not what I think this is."

"If you're not thinking of Amortentia, then yes."

"Why would you brew Amortentia?!"

"For Professor Slughorn," she sees the confusion etched on your face and looks positively horrified. "Not for Professor Slughorn to drink! Ew! I said I'd like to try brewing one because it's, you know, a bit complicated and I've never tried before. He said he'd give Gryffindor some points if I succeeded. I didn't know you would… you know, smell Sirius."

"I never said I smelled him!"

"Okay! Okay," Lily raises both hands in surrender. Then, quieter, she adds, "You can pretend all you want."

You sigh. "Did you only have this vial?"

"Well, there should be some potion left in the cauldron, I think."

Great. An opportunity to escape this beyond strange situation. "I'll go get it for you."

"But I-"

You're out the Gryffindor common room before Lily has a chance to question your offer. The need to get away from that impending conversation is stronger than anything else right now.

Your heart is racing as you walk through the corridors of the castle, heading towards the dungeons, where Potions class usually take place. Each step is an effort to calm your turbulent mind and find some peace.

Upon reaching the Potions classroom, you welcome the silent space as you enter. The characteristic smell of magical ingredients and herbs fills your nostrils, bringing a familiar and almost comforting sensation… until you catch that smell. Amortentia.

You look around, searching for Lily's cauldron, which she mentioned leaving behind.

It's not hard to find; the smell is quite distinct, enchanting, all the things you love most in the world somehow united in a single aroma.

The cauldron is sitting on one of the workbenches. You approach cautiously, making sure not to knock anything over. Then you rummage through the shelves for an empty vial and pour some of the potion into it, feeling like you're doing something wrong even though Lily had Slughorn's permission.

The door opens, and you almost drop a row of glass bottles as you turn to look.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

It's Sirius. Of course, it's him.

He closes the door behind him, and your heart skips a beat as it usually does whenever he's around. He's wearing the Gryffindor uniform, the first two buttons undone, revealing a patch of delicate skin just below his neck.

You don't need to wonder how he got there or why. Chances are, he extracted every piece of information he needed from Lily with little to no effort.

"What are you doing?" he asks calmly. You, on the other hand, don't feel calm at all.

"Nothing, just..."

"Just?" He takes a step closer, and you instinctively move away from the workbench, trying not to show the nervousness you truly feel.

"I just came to get something," you say.

Sirius gives a suspicious glance at the cauldron. "Is it a love potion?" He's a skilled wizard. Skilled enough to know the answer to that question, yet he waits for you to respond.

"Lily made it," you say defensively, holding up the vial containing the potion to illustrate your point unnecessarily.

"And what scent do you smell?" he questions, with a genuine curiosity in his tone that catches you off guard. "What does the potion smell like to you?"

"Lily told you," it's far from a question.

But Sirius has a knack for playing games.

"She told me what?"

"You know what."

This time, you step back as he advances, unable to help yourself, swallowing hard and Sirius notices. He takes another step forward, and you take another step back.

"Sirius," you warn.

In return, Sirius says your name, his tone lighter, more playful, soft as a feather. Then, another step.

You nearly bump your hip against one of the workbenches as you take another desperate step back. Sirius, being Sirius, raises an eyebrow, making no effort to hide his amusement.

It's unfair. It's simply unfair that he's so good-looking, starting at you without feeling the need to averting his gaze. "You don't have to do this," you find yourself saying.

Sirius seems genuinely puzzled.

"Do what?"

You steal a glance in your peripheral vision. The room won't go on forever; you need to say something to get out of this situation before he gets too close. You don't trust yourself near Sirius.

"Turn me down. Be all nice-" you stutter. He keeps advancing toward you. Back almost against the wall, you dodge another workbench and turn to the left, trying to prevent him from cornering you.

Sirius chuckles. "Is that what you think?"

"I'm a big girl. I can take rejection."

He glances in the direction of the cauldron. "Do you want to know what scent I smell?"

"No."

"Leather-"

"Sirius-"

"Gasoline," he raises his chin, nose in the air as if enjoying one scent after another. "Apple pie."

For a moment, you close your eyes. "Stop it."

"And lavender."

Your heart is pounding in your chest. He's not being serious, a little voice in your mind insists. It can't be serious. He's just teasing you... or maybe just being a good friend. Too good a friend.

It would be easier if he wasn't. If he were less kind to you, less handsome, less charming.

It's not easy.

You're breathless, trying to keep your distance from Sirius as he sets a slow advance, a constant tease. It's an internal battle between the desire to give in to the attraction you feel for him and the need to protect yourself — but the latter wins, for now.

"Sirius," you plead, your voice quiet, "stop"

He pauses for a moment, his gray eyes fixed on yours. "You think I'm joking, don't you? You think I'm just being nice?"

"I... I don't know, Sirius. It's so...confusing."

He takes yet another step towards you, his lips curling into a challenging smile. Always challenging. "Confusing or scary?"

The tension between you two is palpable, and you wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart, threatening to break out of your rib cage any given moment. You know you're fighting your own feelings, afraid of surrendering to something that may - and probably will - end in heartbreak.

"It's not fair," you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's not fair that you're so... so-"

"So what?" he teases, closer. "So handsome? So charming? So... irresistible?"

You can tell he's somehow having fun. You don't understand how he can maintain a playful tone in a moment like this.

You catch a whiff of his cologne, feel the warmth of his body, and your heart races once again. If there's a way to prevent Sirius from getting what he wants, you don't know what it is. "So confusing," you finish, almost in a whisper. "You confuse the hell out of me."

Sirius pauses for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, and you momentarily catch a flicker of something deeper in this playful gaze. He slowly raises a hand and gently, gentler than ever, caresses your face, his fingers tracing a delicate path along your skin.

"I don't see how I could be confusing you," he murmurs, his voice soft and husky. "I thought I was being pretty clear..." It's teasing, of course it is; when it comes to Sirius, few things aren't.

But there's something else behind it, too.

The air grows heavier.

"You're not clear about anything, Sirius," you reply, your voice faltering slightly. "I never know what you're thinking. I never know what you really mean."

"Maybe you're just not paying attention."

You furrow your brow, confused by Sirius' response. He's playing with you, as he always does, but this time it feels more intense, more meaningful. You struggle against the temptation to give in completely, to say something you might not be able to take back.

"I do pay attention, Sirius," you respond, your voice showing determination you're not entirely sure you feel. "It's you who likes to make everything more difficult than it needs to be."

He moves closer once again, so close now that you can feel his breath against your skin, the tip of his nose an inch away from touching yours.

"Do you want me to be clearer?" he whispers, voice laced with a hint of his usual mischief. "Make it easier?"

You swallow, feeling your heart race. You know you can't admit your feelings for him, you can't let your defenses down. Not when he makes a point to hide comfortably behind a facade, away from anything that makes him feel vulnerable.

You need honesty.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice almost faltering. "Yes, I do."

Sirius pauses for a moment, eyes searching yours, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat. Then, slowly, he moves closer and closer still, until his lips almost touch yours.

There is a feeling that you can't quite put into words.

"I want you," he murmurs, an admission that hangs in the air like a charged electric current. "I want to be with you. I want you to be happy– I'll even accept your awful taste in music," he adds with a playful smirk, teasingly referencing your occasional guilty pleasure for a particular genre of music that he often mocks.

A laugh escapes your lips, a combination of relief and affection. His sincerity is pretty close to melting away any remaining doubts that linger in your heart. "I have great taste in music," you state playfully.

Sirius brushes the side of his nose against yours affectionately. "Sometimes," he gives in, voice filled with genuine warmth.

You lean into his touch, savoring the tenderness and intimacy of the moment. It's as if the world around you has faded away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of shared emotions.

"Sometimes?" you raise an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.

He chuckles, a low and melodic sound that resonates deep within your chest, a sound you don't get to hear as often as you'd like. "You're lucky you're pretty," he teases, his voice filled with affectionate playfulness.

"Oh?"

"I have a soft spot for pretty girls."

You roll your eyes but can't help the smile that forms on your lips. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Black."

Sirius leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, pulling away with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Who said I was trying to get anywhere?" he whispers, fingers trailing along the curve of your waist, drawing you closer. "I'm already where I want to be."

Your heart swells with warmth, and you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Smooth talker."

It doesn't sound like an accusation when you're about to kiss him.

[colourstreakgryffin]

So…

Alastor is a deer, yes? How would a relationship with him and a Coyote Reader go, I’ve been having brain rot over it for the past few days, it’s just to ironic

Much love xoxo

I definitely can do! Hehe. I love contrasts like this and I think about stuff like this too. I chose bears, not coyotes. It’s so silly yet perfect! Alastor out here hating dogs so this’ll be an enemies to lovers thing… not my favourite but new

Alastor- The Prey and the Predator

Let’s get this clear… Alastor does not like dogs. He actively dislikes dogs so when he finds you. A coyote sinner, he is not interested and he’ll avoid you like the plague. You remind him too much of the dogs of his past that he despises

For a while, Alastor has a one-sided disliking towards you. Solely because you’re a Coyote sinner but after some more time of working/staying at the hotel. He begins to examine you more as a person and less for your canine features

And he realises just how much of a prick he was being for… mostly no reason. You are a dog on the outside but you’re a dove on the inside, Alastor supposed he can try get around the whole Coyote thing you have… it’s not like you want to be a Coyote

Alastor goes from ignoring and snarling at you openly to shyly approaching you with a bouquet of roses and asking for you to forgive him. It’s so interesting how hew went from closed-off, uncaring and hateful to your overall presence to clearly having a fat crush on you. Your personality is beautiful, he eventually can ignore the dog features

Now. If you think you’re the one who’s dom in this relationship, just because you’re the coyote and Al’s the deer. You’re very wrong. Al’s a predator in a prey’s body, a wolf in deer’s fur. He is in charge and he’s the one hunting you down

Alastor has a mix of prey and predator instincts around you when you’re angry. He has the urge to subdue you when you’re in your own predator instincts mode but he also has the urge to avoid you. His predator urges always wins though

However, you swear you can smell delicious fresh venison off the Radio Demon… he does smell gorgeous but you’re not a cannibal like that

Alastor actually can’t help but find the way your tail wags when he pets through your ears and the soft dog-like whines of happiness you let out when hugging him… insanely cute. He may not like dogs but he has a exception for this precious coyote

Alastor doesn’t find it funny when you joke about eating him. It’s quite a sensitive topic and he regularly asks you to not make any type of joke, such as that. This connection you share with him may have grown from being a one-sided hatred to a full-blown relationship but that doesn’t mean he will completely excuse all dog-like mannerisms you have

Alastor actually really likes it when you climb into his lap and curl up. You’re the same size as Vaggie, maybe a bit taller. You’re a shorter person but you’re not so small to be identified as an actual Coyote, you just have the ears and tail but yet. Here you are, curled up and sleeping in his lap in the most canine-like way possible

Alastor has a bad sense of general personal hygiene but yet, he needs you to regularly check up on your own personal hygiene since he cannot stand the smell of your wet dirty fur…

Angel Dust definitely gave you a collar and leash for your birthday, as a sick joke and Alastor is like… “may we use it?”

Alastor enjoys grooming your fur. Your soft, you may let out a few coyote growls here and there but you’re not going to hurt him so he can trust you to stay obedient and still whilst he brushes through your ears and tail

Alastor has made a cute and convenient rule with you; you both communicate in emergencies through animal noises. You’ll bark coyote-like out, he’ll bleat deer-like out. It’s the way you two alarm each other of something happening. The second you bark, he knows something is going down and you’re calling for him

Alastor lets you touch him and his deer features, no problem and no need for permission. Your claws aren’t that strong and all you really have is incredible speed, agility, jaw strength and night vision. You don’t actually have any ability to harm him, even when he flinches here and there, out of pure instinct

Alastor calls you a ‘bitch’ all the time to other people and out loud, all to screw and mess around with you. He’s an asshole of a classy gentleman, he’ll be offensive. Even to his partner! Yes, you’re a bitch but you’re his bitch

Alastor, at one point, will finally open up about his trauma centred around dogs and explain to you exactly why he treated you so awfully at first. How he went from a hater to a lover. He is so glad you’re quite understanding and patient with him so when he lays down the rules of your relationship with him, you accept them and that grows his love for you even more

You’re incredible, for being part a wild vicious canine such as a Coyote, darling~!

“My dear. Let’s ease up on the growling, what’s gotten you so irritate? Did you get into another disagreement with my fellow, Husk?”

[cameronspecial]

yk I was thinking about how Drew smokes and I do think he’s HOTTT like shit, hey, we’d all agree on that. BUT I wholeheartedly HATE smokes irl, like I cant stand the smell and everything about it just disgusts me.

so I’m thinkinh how do u think Drew would react or act when he found out about reader hating 🚬.. she doesnt wanna be that one annoying gf who wants to control what her bf does but at the same time she really hates it when he smokes. she didnt say it but never hides her hatred either. from lil scrunch and huffing through her nose whenever she smells the smokes of him or how she never wanted to sit near him when he lights one up

Cancer Stick

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.4K

Masterlist

Even if the smoke didn’t affect Y/N’s asthma, she would still hate the cancer sticks her boyfriend smokes. It makes his lips taste burnt and the smell is even worse. The smoke fuses with his clothes so it takes forever for her to get the smell out of it. Now, while she isn’t a fan of cigarettes, she isn’t the type of person to force a grown adult to quit. He can make his own decision. However, she also isn’t going to encourage the habit or make herself uncomfortable with it. Drew has some college friends over and they are all hanging out in the backyard. Y/N sits on his lap with her head on his chest and her hands playing with the hair at the base of his neck. She is tired, but she doesn’t want to go to sleep without him so she is forcing herself to stay awake. Drew can see her tiredness and is thankful that she isn’t pestering him about getting his friends to go. 

Luke reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box of darts. He takes one out, passing the box to the person next to him. The box and a lighter are passed to Drew and he takes a cigarette out. Y/N doesn’t notice until she hears the spark of a lighter. She turns in his hold to face forward, watching as the flame hits the white tip. He brings the stick to his lips and breathes in. Smoke releases from his lips and she scrunches her nose. “Really, Drew?” she complains. She buries her nose in his neck. He looks down at her with a shrug, “I’m sorry, Baby, but this is the first one I’ve had today. I promise.” She stands up with a frown and heads to the patio door. Before she heads inside to head to bed, she takes one last look at Drew. He looks upset at himself as he takes a drag from the cigarette. He nods mindlessly at what Luke says. Her boyfriend’s back is pressed against the deck chair and his legs are spread apart. He blows out the smoke, dropping his hand over the armrest to tap the ash off the tip. Y/N hates to admit that the sight has the place between her thighs grow wet and she decides to let him out of the dog house a little. “After you are done with your cancer stick, change and brush your teeth. I’ll be waiting for you in bed. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[dadsbongos]

warm and fuzzies

1.1 k words / warnings - grinding, inebriated groping/sex, outdoor action, sniffing

summary - when you two sneak onto the porch during a Halloween party, Connie Springer knows he has the perfect opportunity to woo you.

kinktober: day four - high/drunk ~~~

Red and purple lights flourish around Eren and Armin’s comfy two bedroom apartment. Dulled thumps vibrate against the sliding glass door to your right. Smoke ribbons between two flush faces: yours and Connie Springer. He’s got silver rings and a black sparkly robe and his ghostface mask is laid on top of your head. 

“You put way too much rum in this,” and oh yeah, your dark lipstick is smeared on his lips as he passes your cup back, “Why?”

“The kitchen’s dark as fuck!” you huff, “I can’t see anything.”

Connie shakes his head, gagging histrionically, “No, I think your mixing is just dogshit.”

“Whatever,” eyes rolling, you hold out a hand to take the joint he holds, “Pass, Con’, don’t hog it.”

“You just had it, pretty girl,” your tummy flips as Connie leans over the arm of his lawn chair, bypassing your hand to perch the butt between your lips, “Go on, greedy.”

Despite his jab, you suck and blow -- politely airing the blunt smoke into Connie’s face. He playfully hums and closes his eyes to inhale, then sighing dreamily with a soft thanks, pretty. Red, lidded gaze locked on your own before dropping to your lips.

Gaze drifting sideways, you feel so bold as to reach up and twiddle his little hoop earring, “I like this.”

“Me too,” he mock gasps, “That’s why I got it.”

“Yeah, sassy?” the heat from his skin spurs you to card your nails along his buzz cut.

He hums, eyes fluttering shut to feel your fingers dance along his scalp while taking another hit. Dragging it out until he sears the back of his throat, now holding it up to your mouth, “Here, take it.”

“Hm?” you frown, and he can see the clarity sopping up alcohol in your eyes when you ask, “Are you going inside?”

“Huh? Nah,” he sits back, legs spreading. He wets his lips and encourages the blunt into your mouth with a gentle tap, “It’s gettin’ low. I figured you’d want the last bit.”

“Oh, okay,” awkwardly giggling off your earnest upset, “How courteous.”

“I know, right,” he’s been in your space all night. Eren called it weeks ago when he said you’d show at the party; said if you don’t take this chance to finally make out then I’ll kill you myself. So Connie clears his throat and pats his thighs, “I can be a bit more courteous?”

You giggle again, this time at him, “What?”

Connie shrugs it off -- he’s the funny short guy, thankfully your laughter is nothing new to him.

“How would you dig a new seat?” and again, he pats his thighs. Sparkly robe catching moonlight. 

Blinking twice, you take a sip of your rum and Coke before sliding from one creaky lawnchair and into another to occupy Connie’s lap. Chest pressed against his and hands shyly perched around his neck -- nails tip tapping against sweaty red plastic. Dulling ice cubes clink behind his head, but Connie pays it no mind in favor of staring up at you through hazy eyes. Pupils blown so wide they’re onyx marbles. He laughs in your face.

“What?” you whine, plucking back to take a sip. Face puckering at the sour taste.

“You’re so cute,” Connie murmurs. You can smell vodka ripe from his throat. Vodka and orange juice and weed. Any ocean spray cologne he thought was going to steal the night has long since faded. It makes you suddenly paranoid your own body spray has been choked out. 

“Do I smell bad?” you interrupt. Crickets croak behind you. A dog barks from down the road.

Inside Eren’s apartment, there’s a graveyard smash and drunken cheers.

Very sincerely, however, Connie’s brows raise and eyes widen. His hands land boldly on your hips, rocking you forward to steal an experimental sniff. You’re hardly listening for his response because your crotch notches his in the movement. A meek whimper leaks, one you’re not sober enough to bite down -- or even to have the shame to cover your mouth afterward.

For a stiff, endless moment you pray Connie simply hadn’t heard.

“Did you just moan?” his voice is hoarse, mouth agape and cheeks flaring red.

“No…” you bumble, shuffling onto your knees to stand only to be buckled down by Connie’s grip.

He whines and shakes his head, “You did,” he smiles and gives an airy teehee, “I wanna hear it again.”

“Con,” you whimper. He pushes you against his hardening cock. The pressure forces a huff of pleasure to waft out. 

“Yeah, baby?” Connie’s scraping out suave by the skin of his teeth, despite the rabid rackety thump in his chest telling him he’s about to drop dead, “You like that?”

But when you let out a broken mm mmm and loose nod, his hips jerk up into yours without much thought. A gutless groan vibrating from his lips to yours. Connie gasps when you relent and roll, abandoning the watery rum and Coke in the window sill behind him to curl hands around his neck. Thumbs tracing the hard ridge of Connie’s jawline, culling his mouth open. Velvety tongues clashing as you groan and gasp into each other’s maws.

No matter how light-headed you are, you’re steely firm in wanting Connie -- so you don’t stop him when he starts rolling your bottoms off. Guitar calloused fingertips dip beneath the band of your underwear, Connie honestly moans when he feels nothing but slick.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles.

“Is that bad?” you slur.

“No way,” he babbles back, “Could slip in right now, you’re so hot.”

His praise makes you grin into the sloppy, sad excuse of a kiss. Connie drunkenly yanks up his rob -- inebriation making him blind to the autumn night chill suddenly icing his bare legs. Pushing his boxers down his knees, Connie’s barely considering trivial things like protection and safety and forethinking because your hole is already kissing his tip. And if you’re so eager, who is he to stop you when he’s just as excited?

Sinking pelvis to pelvis is easy when it’s Connie, who coos and moans and coaxes and strokes hearts into your clit. He hisses, “So good, baby, you feel so good.”

A useless squeal is all he gets in return as you swivel, thighs straining enough to feel the friction of his thick dick stretching you open again and again. 

Crickets chirp. A dog yelps. A car zooms by as trees sway.

You and Connie fumble to feel each other up with fluttery eyes and sideways vision. Pure want clouding good judgment with neither of you bothering to temper swears and wails of one another’s name. Loud music and a prayer all that’s reliable to keep others oblivious. 

And it does not work well: Eren locks the door and cinches the black curtains with a disappointed sigh.

[rottenrosethorns]

What about sextexting with re2 (or re4) leon while he's away on a work mission??? This idea just seems so 😩if you're not comfortable with it, that's okay too!

Pairing: RE2!Leon Kennedy x afab!Reader 

Genre: Sexting/Video Call AU, Smut 

Synopsis: While away on a mission, Leon has a hard time getting you out of his mind and vice versa. So when calling to check up, you have other plans to fill that void of loneliness. 

Word Count: 4.0K

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT; swearing, mentions of grooming, pillowfucking, dildo, blowjob, handjob, mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, lingerie, name calling (good boy, naughty boy) 

A/N: Special thanks to @starcrossedreaders for this request and graciously allowing me to change it because I had poop ideas! This is based on another smut I wrote a long time ago, but I hope it’s okay! Also, im writing this as my flight got delayed so I’m at the airport for 9 HOURS, so keep your expectations low :))))

__________

- masterlist - 

__________

“What the fuck am I doing here?” 

Leon groaned into the clean pillow of his hotel bed, face buried into its plushness as he sunk further into the mattress to alleviate the ache in his bones. Within the past forty-eight hours, he’d been flown across the country, forced into a suit to play guard dog for yet another socialite event, and thrown to the wolves commonly known as the rich singles that found an attractive police officer turned security guard a fun toy to play with. Just thinking about the much older women that were more than willing to groom him into submission made him shudder as he snuggled deeper into the crisp white sheets. With events like this, Leon wished he’d been put on traffic patrol near downtown square instead. 

Grumbling, Leon forced himself to sit up and glance at his phone for any notification from you. Much to his dismay, his phone was blank with not even a missed call to excite some hope into him. He couldn’t blame you though, knowing that you were still at work and couldn’t get to your phone for another few hours. Leon just wished he was back home laying in your bed with him in your arms instead of this hotel with bedding material way too stiff for his liking. But of course, his flight wouldn’t depart until tomorrow, leaving Leon to spend the entirety of his night missing you. 

Peeling himself out of the bed, he hoped a hot shower would help him feel better physically. Spoiler alert, it didn’t. Huffing, Leon found himself in his original position with his face first into the sheets and the only difference being that he had wet hair now. Flopping over, he closed his eyes, exhaling heavily as he attempted to succumb to the peace that sleep offered. Unfortunately, sleep seemed to avoid him as Leon continued to lay there lifeless in silence and darkness as his mind drifted and began to daydream about you out of boredom. At least in his consciousness, Leon could be by your side in whatever scenario he desired. 

In his daydream, Leon saw your pleasantly surprised smile as you greeted him at the front door of your house. Walking through the threshold, Leon felt your arms wrap about his neck and shoulders as you stood on the tips of your toes to properly embrace him. Snuggling his face into the crook of your neck, Leon smelled your freshly washed clothing which instantly soothed him, reminding him that this scent was what home felt like. Pulling back, Leon tasted the sweetness of your lips as you pressed a long, loving kiss on his desperate lips. Looking into the depths of your eyes, Leon heard your soft whispers as you confessed how much you missed and loved him while he was gone. For a while, he relished in the warmth that you provided as he moved to squeeze you tighter as if you were to dissipate any second. However, as much as he yearned at his memories, the vision of you slowly blurred and scattered as the warmth and comfort of your body against his reverted to the cold, plush pillow as the fabric scratched against the skin of his naked chest. Frustrated, Leon threw the pillow across the room, leaving the bed empty along with the loneliness of his aching heart. 

After a moment of silence to gather his thoughts, Leon realized how childish he acted just because he was missing his significant other who would more than likely call him after done with work. Embarrassed with his neediness, Leon shamefully walked over to pick up the discarded pillow and went back to bed, but this time properly cuddling the pillow as if to fill the void as he continued his make-believe scenarios. Leon was well aware that a pillow could never, ever replace your comfort, but this was all he got and this would have to do for now. 

When he closed his eyes again, images of your carefree smile accompanying your fit of giggles blessed Leon’s affection starved heart. Giddy with excitement, Leon snuggled closer into the pillow, pressing himself firmly into the cotton mass which happened to accidentally brush against his groin. The sensation was not at all arousing, yet the images of you contorted into something much more erotic. 

Leon froze with fear as worries washed over his consciousness. If he bucked his hips, would it feel good? If it felt good, would he be confident enough to use a hotel pillow to get off to the thought of you? It wasn’t as if anyone was watching nor would anyone know what he was doing in the privacy of his single hotel room stay, but the little voice in his head reasoning how weird he would be and how embarrassing it would be if he did cum to dry humping a pillow wrecked his nerves to the core. 

It was almost enough to discourage him. Almost. 

Leon swore he would’ve stopped, he really, really did. But he couldn’t help but let his mind drift towards you again, but this time with your legs fully opened and waiting. The sight of your glistening pussy and the curvature of your thighs were far too much for Leon to resist. The way that you looked up at him all innocently as your cavern clenched in anticipation sent him in disarray. So much so that he didn’t even realize he’d already begun rutting into the pillow. Looking down, Leon eyed the imprint of his hard on as his cock twitched to be halfway erected. As guilty as he was, Leon’s embarrassment for being so desperate for you was easily trumped with his lewd needs. 

Leon shifted himself to sit up and rest his back against the headboard. Dick in hand, Leon pumped himself, twisting and tugging in the manner that you would’ve had if you were in the room with him. Leon hated teasing himself, but you loved it. And if you were the one touching Leon right now, that meant he had to edge himself to orgasm as he interchangeably bounced  between jerking his fully hardened cock to adding hints of teasing squeezes along his shaft before teasing his tip. 

“Fuck, yeah. Just like that, baby,” Leon scrunched his brows as if your memory would brighten behind his eyelids. He watched as your hands worked all along him, smearing his precum to lubricate the rest of his touch starved dick. He continued building the momentum of his fantasy for a few more minutes before his crave for release begged him to change his rhythm. Obeying his needs, Leon swiftly flipped himself over, using one hand to fold the pillow and pin it on the mattress. With the other hand, Leon guided his pulsating cock into the folds of the pillow and drove himself fully with a careful, experimental thrust. 

Leon cringed with discomfort, underestimating the roughness of the fabric against the rawness of his bare dick. As much as he wanted to stop his sinful act, Leon’s desperate need for release overpowered his discomfort, thus justifying him to continue his steady ruts into the folds of the pillow. Since the pillow was not nearly as satisfying as you were – greatly due to the lack of slick wetness and warmth – Leon had plenty of time to experiment which angle and pace of thrusts felt better than other methods. Triumphantly, Leon was quick to discover that the faster he thrusted, the less he cared about the rough feeling of the fabric. 

Once comfortable in pace, Leon shifted his focus back to you, specifically with your legs spread wide underneath him. He never understood how missionary was always such an underrated position. He loved seeing how much he ruined you. Whether it was the pleasurable tears prickling your lashes or biting your bottom lip in hopes of suppressing your moans, Leon wanted to see it all. There was no hiding from him, he wanted to know anything and everything about you, especially when it was about delivering you euphoric pleasure. Leon began to work up a sweat as he pounded harsher. For a brief moment, he felt himself get a little closer towards his much needed release until the overwhelming feeling of dryness paired with the rough fabric killed whatever inkling of pleasure was present. 

"No, no, no, please," Leon mumbled in desperation as he sloppily rutted his hips forward. Like a starved man, Leon did everything in his power to overtake the pillow's hindrance. In his defense, Leon was so close to winning, but his desperation washed out his blurry view of you underneath him. No matter how hard he tried, Leon couldn't bring you back; therefore, indefinitely killing his mood and causing both his body and dick to fall limp in disappointment of a robbed release. 

"Damn it," Leon threw the dirtied pillow somewhere across his room. It was useless for sleeping now anyways and apparently more so for fucking. Once softened, Leon redressed himself, heading straight under the covers to hide from the world and let sleep silence his embarrassing thoughts of self judgment. As usual, the lull of slumber snuffed the scattering voices in his head, offering a momentary period of peace. When he opened his eyes, Leon knew he barely got much sleep, inferring the time to be somewhere around the early morning hours based on the shadow casted room and the muffled ambiance of the city’s nightlife. He closed his eyes, dismissing whatever notification popped up on his phone to be irrelevant, yet no matter how hard he tried to go back to sleep, it seemed like sleep didn’t want him. Thus, Leon took the chance to reverse the sleepiness in his eyes and take a glance at his phone. 

[ Wanna call? ]

…..

You stretched your aching muscles, wincing at the strain as your bones let out a satisfying pop. You’d just gotten home from hanging out with Claire and Rebecca for the evening. They knew how much you missed Leon while he was away, so the two of them took the liberty to invite you out after work to keep your yearning thoughts about Leon’s absence at bay. At first, the night started off fun and casual as usual, like sitting down at a nice restaurant and maybe grabbing a few drinks to release the day’s tension. However, before you could excuse yourself, Claire and Rebecca had other plans as they dragged you towards this new shop that just opened up. The only thing was that this shop was more so an adult clothing and toy store compared to the usual thrift shops you all frequented. At first, you refused to enter with them, not finding a reason to embarrass yourself while browsing for toys. You had Leon and that’s all you needed. But of course, for every argument you posed, Claire had a perfect counter argument to prove you wrong. Eventually, the two of them managed to convince you to browse the store and even offered to pay for anything that caught your eye, although you kindly rejected their offer. You swore you weren’t going to get anything, but you couldn’t help keep your eyes lingering on a sleek, not too erotic looking lingerie set on a mannequin as well as a classic clear dildo which had an uncanny resemblance to Leon. Your lingering looks did not go past the ladies as they, yet again convinced you to make the purchase. Their arguments being that it was better to have something rather than someone to keep you company while Leon was miles away. 

So, with the goody bag in hand, the three of you said your goodbyes before you quickly rushed home to read up on your new toy. By the time you were done cleaning your dildo and setting it to dry, you were sure Leon was finished chaperoning the event, leading you to send a quick text. As usual, Leon’s response was instantaneous as you set up your tablet to video chat with him for the night. The outgoing ringtone hadn’t rung for a second before Leon’s tired but smiling face appeared on the screen. You fixed your hair, suddenly feeling self conscious being on camera, especially since the dildo was sitting at the corner of your eye, “It’s not too late, is it?”

As if his face weren’t already deeply etched into your memory, your eyes nervously examined every wrinkle and blemish, searching for anything that could tell you how his day had gone. You were trying to build up your confidence for the plan you’d been concocting, but first you needed to know whether or not Leon was even energetic enough to keep up with your needs. 

Leon stifled a yawn, shrugging with one shoulder as if to sell his point, “Kinda, not too bad though.”

Worry washed over you as Leon stifled another yawn, but this time more poorly. You wondered if your plan to give him a show would be cut short from his exhaustion, not wanting him to push himself past his limits as tough as he was, “Am I keeping you up?”

“Never,” Leon shot you a lazy smile, tousling his already messy hair, “You can wake me up whenever.”

“Even on weekends?” You prompted with a laugh. As much as you cared for him and was worried about his sleep, you knew that Leon was most likely staying up to hear your voice even if it were only for a couple minutes. And as much as you wanted to badger him into tucking himself under the covers, you wanted to spend time with him just as much as he did with you. 

“Even on weekends,” Leon hesitated once he saw the teasing smile creep onto your lips, “Okay, maybe not Sunday though.”

You both shared a quick laugh before a soft blanket of silence enclosed both ends of the call. At this rate, you’d both end up falling asleep online and you still had so much you wanted to show Leon. You piped up, forcing yourself to speak with more energy to uplift the sleepy call, “So, how was it? Boring? Exciting? Did you meet anyone famous?” 

Folding your hands, you propped up your chin and tilted your face with curiosity as you patiently waited for Leon to recount his day. Much to your surprise, Leon seemed pretty vocal about this mission as he began his story with a large, exaggerated groan. 

“Don’t even get me started,” Leon mumbled, “I’m sure there were famous people there, but it’s not like I could see any of them given the amount of cougars that came up to me, thinking that I was the son of some rich dude or whatever. Some of them were old enough to be my grandma!” 

You giggled at Leon’s outburst, finding his mild inconvenience quite hilarious. Through your fit of laughter, you clutched your abdomen and failed to stifle the goofy smile bloomed on your lips. As much as he shuddered at the thought of the cougars, Leon was happy to see you laugh and smile from his experience. Afterall, this response was way better than having to tell you that he fought some seven foot monster determined to rip him apart limb by limb from another mission long ago. 

Once settled, you wiped your tears. Looking back at the screen, you just realized how boyish he looked and how much you loved seeing him like this. Although he was tired, his droopy eyes, tangled hair, and naked chest set something off inside you, causing you to squirm in your seat as you pressed your thighs together. You weren’t trying to suppress the growing need inside you, but you needed to feel something without making it obvious. At least, not yet. 

So, you decided to set the trap and wait for Leon to take the bait himself before proceeding any further, “Can’t blame them for choosing someone so handsome. I bet you looked amazing in your suit.”

“Thanks, but I only look good for one person,” Leon shot you a wink, causing you to blush but not look away, “So, what’d you do today?” 

As flustered as you were, you knew that in order to perfectly execute your plan, you couldn’t waste anymore time contemplating your confidence. With this in mind, you sat back in your seat, letting your chest be put on display before moving forward with your bait, “You know, there was a store that just opened up. There was some pretty cool stuff in it.”

“Nice, what store was it? Did you get anything?”

You smiled triumphantly, now creating a perfect segway towards what you wanted, “I’ll show you, but you have to close your eyes, okay? No peeking!” 

“I promise, no peeking.” 

Once you knew that Leon’s eyes were fully closed, you quickly shuffled out of view and changed into that newly purchased lingerie set and grabbed your dildo. Covering up yourself again with one of Leon’s large shirts, you positioned yourself back into view, but this time you were standing instead of sitting. Checking yourself out through the feedback screen of the call, you analyzed the gather belts strapped around your thighs which peeked out below the hem of Leon’s shirt. If this wasn’t a big enough hint, you weren’t sure what would be. Taking a deep breath, you instructed, “Open your eyes.”

Without waiting for him to adjust, you started groping yourself over the shirt’s fabric, teasingly lifting up the hem to reveal the lace as you swayed your hips left to right. You had to hold back your smirk as you watched Leon get stunned into silence as his mouth slacked agape from your performance. Continuing, you stepped out to widen your stances and sway your hips lower and deeper before turning around and showing Leon your backside. Giving a little shake, you bent down even further. You didn’t have to see Leon’s face to know that he was already drooling from the sight of you. 

“What- What are you doing?” Leon gulped nervously, not knowing what to expect from you nor how he should properly respond. Undoubtedly, blood was rushing towards his cock as it whined and ached for attention, but Leon was patient enough to at least find out what was going on before taking action. 

You shushed him, hiking the hem of his shirt higher and biting it between your teeth, fully showing off the lacy set. You posed for a few moments as you rubbed your hands all along the sides of your body. Teasingly, you snapped the garter straps along your thighs before discarding his shirt entirely. Looking back at the screen, you tilted your head to feign innocence, “Does it look pretty?”

Leon inhaled sharply through his nose, “You look amazing. Is this what you bought today?”

“Yes,” You stretched out as if you weren’t telling the full truth, “But I got something else too.”

Leon licked his lips, eyes wide in anticipation as he wasn’t willing to miss anything that flashed across the screen, “What is it?”

“I’ll get to that soon, but first, wouldn’t you like to join me?” You began by taking one hand to pop a titty out of your bra cup and pinch your nipple, wordlessly insinuating what you were planning to show him. Catching your hints, Leon followed your lead as he sat back and repositioned the camera to capture his crotch as his hard-on poked through the fabric of his pants. Sighing at the sight of him, you took a seat again before you commanded him to undress and start touching himself as you snuck your other and to pull your underwear to the side and spread your juices to rub your clit. Obediently, Leon pulled down his pants and grabbed his cock with a firm grip, pumping as he watched your fingers trace along your nerves. Keeping one hand focused on rubbing your clit, you took your hand away from your nipples and reached over for your clear dildo. Bringing the dildo to view, you looked at the toy as if it were Leon before bringing it close to your mouth to lick a long stripe on its underside. You licked it once, twice, barely sucking in the head of the dildo before spitting on it and sliding it fully along your tongue and throat. From his fogged vision, Leon tensed as he admired the outline of the dildo imprinted behind your cheeks and wished that it were him instead. 

Leon groaned with pleasure, hand tightening around his cock before his strained voice broke the lewd sounds of your lips and saliva on your dildo, “I thought you didn’t do toys.”

Taking out the dildo with a pop and a string of spit trailing from the tip, you shrugged and took the dildo back into deepthroat this time, “I miss you.”

From your half-lidded eyes, you watched as Leon pumped himself, encouraging you to elicit muffled moans around your dildo. Without missing a beat, you shoved your fingers deep into your cunt and followed the pumps of your dildo with the thrusts of your curled fingers. The microphone picked up the squelch of your sweetness as Leon’s thoughts and vision blurred with the sight of you spread out for him, “Fuck, I miss you too, baby. Keep going, keep going for me.” 

Mutually agreeing to skip the foreplay, you began to match his pace, inserting your slick fingers deeper into your leaking entrance with every jerk of his wrist. Pulling the dildo out of your mouth with a crisp pop, you swirl your tongue to coat your lips with spit, letting some drip out to your chest. You took out your fingers, scooping your essence to coat the dildo before licking your hand clean. You repositioned yourself, lining up the dildo at your clenching entrance, “You ready to watch me get filled up? Are you going to wait to cum with me or are you going to be a naughty boy and selfishly chase after your own orgasm?” 

Leon whimpered, forcing his hand to let go of his throbbing dick and clench the muscles of his thigh, “I’m not a naughty boy, I’ll wait. I’m a good boy. I’m a good boy, right? Have I been a good boy?”

You spread your legs wider, teasing the tip to insert in and out of you, “Have you?”

Leon bit his lip, forgetting his manners, “Please? Please let me cum, I need to see you, please, ple-” 

You shushed him before inserting the dildo balls deep into you, sighing as the veins traced your walls, “Touch yourself, my good boy. I want to see us cum together.”

Like before, you matched your pace with Leon’s, fucking yourself faster than before as Leon increased his pace. On the screen, you watched as Leon’s movements became sloppier, hips now thrusting his hardened dick into his hand. The blue light emitting from his laptop illuminated his sweat coated chest, highlighting his abs beautifully. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, slightly whimpering from the rough pace you set yourself at. At this speed, you watched your cum filled pussy overflow as your liquids began to foam and drip out of you and around your dildo. From your whimpers, Leon’s moans increased in pitch, signaling that he was close to release, “You ready, baby?”

Leon hissed through gritted teeth, “Fuck yes. Please, let me cum. Please, I need you.”

“Cum for me, let me see you,” You gasped, sheathing the dildo fully inside you as you watched the sticky, white substance shoot from Leon’s tip. Your pussy clenched impossibly tighter around the dildo as you watched his cum drip from his belly button towards the base of his dick, leaving a deliciously glittering trail in its wake.

Leon breathed heavily, coming back down from his high, “That was surprising.”

“Good?” You asked nervously, wincing as you slid the dildo out of you. 

Leon’s eyes lingered for a moment before softening, “More than good.”

You let out a soft, exhausted smile, “I can’t wait for you to come home.”

“Yeah,” Leon whispered sweetly, “Me too.”

[the-californicationist]

Hey, I'm not sure if youve done something like this yet, but could you please do a fic where Reader just wants to feel closer to Simon and honestly is just being really clingy and kind of gently begs him if they can just sit on his cock and then they doze off like that bc theyre finally as close to his as they want to be? Lots and lots of love and thanks!

"The Space Between" (AO3 Link)

You watched him carefully from your spot across the wide den. He was playing some racing game, the same track over and over, trying to beat an old ghost of his. But, you could tell he was growing tired. Every lap, he lost a few seconds here and there, or he'd needed to restart. You tried to give him space. He'd been in one of his moods.

Simon never pushed you away, but he did wrap himself in a protective layer of quiet. He would say less, he would answer in wordless grunts or looks, and he would sleep more, turning inward on himself like a flower in the night, closing up in the face of the darkness.

But, you needed him. Badly. You wanted his warm mouth and his skin to cover you again. You wanted him to grab you like a lifeboat in a storm, out of need.

You rose, letting your blanket fall behind you, stalking over to him in his huge tee shirt and nothing else, your hair messy from your shower.

"Si?" You whispered as if you were giving the secret password to an underground club, a secret organization, a code you weren't supposed to have.

It worked. It opened the arms of your man. He paused the game and spread himself wide for you, like a big, sleeping dog, belly up. You mounted his hips and leaned into the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around the heavy muscles there, and you felt him relax his body into yours, melting into you like thawing ice.

"Let me keep you warm," you begged quietly into his neck, soft enough that he could barely hear you. The music from the game's menu beat softly in the background.

He knew what you wanted. You'd gotten into the habit lately. It had happened wordlessly the first few times, you sinking yourself down onto his hard length, wrapping him in your wet, warm body, coaxing him to swell with your fluttering core.

Now, you'd been asking for it, and he obliged you. You felt him digging into his sweatpants for your prize, ready and willing to be comforted by you. The head of him prodded gently at your hole, spread wide as you straddled him, fully vulnerable to him, ready to let him have you however he wanted.

You felt it slot into place, thick and solid, and you began the slow, long descent. Each inch of him stretched you more and more, filling you up, completing you like your missing piece.

You heard him sigh, and you felt the breath against your neck. It washed over you like a reward, telling you exactly how much he needed you, how much he wanted you to need him. Once he was fully sheathed in you, he ran his cheek over your cheek, smelling your clean scent, his dark voice coating you like smoke in a burning house,

"Mm, tha's what you wanted, innit, pretty thing?"

"Yeah, Si. That's what I wanted. Can I stay here, just for a little while?"

He shifted his hips and pulled you in closer, locking you in to his body and pressing himself even deeper than you had felt him in a long while. With his hands wandering under your shirt, he felt the smooth, warm skin of your back, petting you gently, soothing you to sleep.

As you were on the edge of sinking into slumber, he sighed again and said,

"As long as you need, love."

[jungle-angel]

Two Birds In A Nest (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob are just beginning to build your lives in Montana and hope that your family will grow with it

Warnings: Talks about starting a family, wanting a family, smut etc.

Your moans were tied together with Bob's even as you felt him gutter into you, an explosion of warmth blooming between your legs as your heavy breathing began to even out with each other's. You reached up, placing a hot hand against Bob's chest, feeling his fast heartbeat beneath your palm.

"Oh baby," he sighed happily, nuzzling your cheeks and your jaw. "My sweet (y/n), I can't get enough of you."

You giggled a little as you felt his baby smooth skin against yours, the both of you still sensitive to each other's kissing and caressing. Bob helped you up from your bed and into the bathroom, running a hot bath for the both of you to get you cleaned up. God it was heaven being in your brand new bathroom and not having to worry about who would be up at some ungodly hour of the morning to hog the shower. The steam carried with it the smell of Bob's Irish Spring body wash that he used on the both of you, gently washing every part of you that he could touch. Back into your shared bedroom you both went, crawling under the warm covers as the blizzard outside began to rage. Your house however, was so cozy and warm, the dogs sleeping soundly in their crates while the cats had taken to the laundry room in the finished basement.

You and Bob lay facing each other, chest to chest, tits pressing against each other and still warm from the bath. He looked like a dream with his soft cheeks, his limpid blue eyes that reminded you of the forget-me-nots that popped in your garden every spring. The lazy but loving smile on his face was almost the same as his dad's, the spitting image in all those family photos of Bob as a baby being held by Joe, his father.

Yet there was something that stirred and ached in your chest. You couldn't put your finger on what it was or why it was there, but it was.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" Bob asked, seeing the worrisome look playing with your face.

"Do you ever feel like something's missing?" you asked in reply.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," you answered a little sadly. "I just.....I pass by one of the empty rooms and all I can see in there is you standing over a crib.....a little baby in your arms.....maybe you're sitting in the rocker singing and rocking him or her to sleep."

Bob could feel his eyes burning and a few loose tears beginning to form. Growing up the youngest in a big family, he spent endless days playing with all his nieces and nephews, sometimes watching them while his brothers and sisters either didn't have the time to do so or had to go on a SEAL team mission like his oldest sister, Reagan's husband. Picking them up from school, playing with them and taking care of them had made him feel as though there had been a hole somewhere that he could just hardly fill. Ever since the two of you had gotten married, he wanted so badly to have just that....a family of your own and a house that truly felt like home.

"Oh baby," he cooed, kissing your cheeks. "It'll happen, don't you worry."

You had hoped so. God you had hoped so. It was all you could think about, even when you were at the school trying to teach your fifth graders about ancient India and having to fill one side of the chalkboard with a drawing from The Ramayana. Now that you and Bob could finally have the time to try, you were excited, happy, nervous and scared all at once.

"Do you....do you wanna try?" you asked him a little meekly.

You felt him roll his body on top of yours, the heat intensifying a little bit from the heavy duvet you only used in the winter. "Hell yes," Bob murmured, his lips gently grazing against yours.

You felt him kiss you gently, just as he had done earlier that night, the wetness beginning to build again between your legs as his red hot, throbbing cock slipped inside you with ease. You sighed and moaned happily as his hips thrust gently in and out of you, slowly drawing your orgasm out of you. It was almost like the blizzard outside, dizzying and a wild flurry of moans, groaning and skin slapping against skin before everything calmed down and you and Bob were resting skin-to-skin against each other.

"You think this one will take?" you asked sleepily.

"I've got a feeling," Bob yawned.

Sure enough it did. After almost a week of you waking up sick, you and Bob were over the moon to find that it had taken, the tears filling his eyes when he hears the baby's heartbeat for the first time, more so when you learn that it's a little boy, your tiny little August Robert Floyd, who becomes the biggest blessing your family has ever received.

[unicyclehippo]

touch

‘you know i’m like this all the way down, don’t you? it isn’t - it isn’t an act, i do laugh it off sometimes dear, it can be terribly funny but. i am like this. forever. and it’s—could you—do you think you might be able to withstand that for a long time? i should like to be with you for a long time but it would depend on - on when you get exhausted, you see, because i must live with this or - ha - not live with, i suppose, but survive, contend, with this for however long i shall live but you, well.’ laudna’s twists her face into graceful acceptance. soft, understanding, hardly sad at all. it’s very easy to do, once you have the trick of it. ‘you needn’t. deal with this. the bark and the hair and the nails. the popping joints. the ichor, the aches, the smell, the stares, the rot.’ the word drops between them, gross, embarrassing, like she’d spat by accident. her teeth are hatesharp in her mouth. ‘the teeth,’ she adds.

imogen looks up from the book she studies with such careful, wonderful intent. so smart. she quirks a brow, amused. ‘i know what you are, laud. you forget we’ve been travellin’ together awhile now?’

‘no, no.’ her stomach twists, her hands twist, knot, roots. so is she, rooted in place. ‘i know, dear, i only mean to remind you—should you need a moment to yourself, or, or should something in particular sicken you—‘

‘laudna.’

she sinks low. imogen isn’t listening. of course not. she is kind. she lo-hmm. yes, well, laudna can surmise imogen likely loves her. which is, well, lovely! but they haven’t been in love for very long and laudna has never done it before, romance, love, but she knows herself. how she clings to things. she knows herself. love to her is like…tar. sticky and black, bubbling and pouring up and up around their ankles their calves their knees her beautiful knees. if imogen doesn’t know that now then gods help her, what if she drowns her—them—in it? and she would, imogen would stay with her she would be pleased by it, even, because she loves her, but there is something wrong with it. impossible to know if it has always been this or if it’s all the death and the accessories she’s obtained through it—lady d, trauma, blah blah blah—but she thinks she has a capacity for love like a pyre, grease-fire and rising choking smoke; like a hungry dog, snapbite shut around the hand outstretched. and she knows what she wants for imogen, the kind of love she deserves, and how far it is from what she has to offer.

‘what are you afraid of, honey?’

laudna nibbles at her bottom lip. she takes up the bone she has been carving and turns it between her fingers, not wanting to see the moment imogen sees her, maskless, exposed.

‘i want to hold you until we both die,’ laudna says, sad and sweet. ‘i want to lay down in a grave with you side by side and i shall never move again and every worm that comes to eat us up will be little versions of us, because they’ve fed on us, and they will be in love and they’ll feed all the farms and chickens and we’ll be a thousand souls in love. i want to open up your scars and see what is under your skin, what your magic does under there. i want,’ she says, and folds her elbows close to her rotten chest, folds herself small, words small, so not a page stirs, not another soul could be stirred by what she admits. ‘i want to taste it. i want to grow into a tree and grow around you like armour like a second skin so you are always safe and maybe grow taproots, grow into you. through you. i want you as part of me forever. i want to touch you, i want to always be touching you, i want you to never be able to move without feeling me beside you, i want you to crack me open and see how vile it is inside of me and plunge in neck deep and when you struggle to get out, i want to hold on.’ she pauses. ‘i want to dislocate my jaw.’

imogen sits very still. her eyes very dark. she lets out a slow breath, pink tongue flicking out to wet her lips. ‘what-‘ she clears her throat. ‘what does that last one have to do with me?’

‘it doesn’t really. but. i’ll always be quite horrible to be around and i want you to be with me anyway.’

[andreafmn]

Bound | Chapter 8

Word Count: 3.4K Warnings: queer slurs

Summary: Rosalie always carried the resentment of not being able to fulfill the image of the perfect family she had in her head. But the universe had set out to grant her everything she could’ve hoped for in the most unconventional way and in the form of a witch. Can their love withstand the promise of forever or will Rosalie and (Y/N) succumb to the grapples of time?

A/N: I cannot believe how long I've neglected this story. I am ashamed 🫣😭

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Forks, Washington was everything Rosalie had thought she would hate from a town as a human. It was quiet, secluded, and a place where things seemed to stay stuck in time. There was no novelty or grandeur. A small town, after all. 

The girl didn’t have much interest in the town. Then again, she hadn’t had much interest in any town since she had left Rochester. Sure, Tennessee had gifted her with Emmett, but the town was never what interested her. Once she had left her home, there was nothing that could pique her interest quite like the life she had left behind. 

Still, she didn’t mind a small town anymore. Especially for the being she was now and the opulent grandeur the Cullens seemed to always live in. Surrounded by trees and winding down a lonely road, their new home came into view. Gravel crackled under their cars, announcing their arrival to whatever was out there. 

The house was a beautiful Victorian build, with a wrap-around porch and high ceilings. It was an architectural marvel and the perfect place for the family to hide out in. They were surely not going to encounter any problems. 

Surely. 

However, only a month into living in the new town, they encountered neighbors they had never expected to meet. Much less while they fed on a herd of deer. 

“We’re not alone,” Edward called out, his gaze set deep into the woods. “There’s someone there.”

“Other vampires, perhaps?” Carlisle questioned. “I heard there were a few nomads canvassing the area.” 

“No. Not vampires,” he grimaced. “Something else. Much different.” 

The family rushed cautiously deeper into the forest, Edward taking the lead as he followed the intruders’ thoughts. 

Their smell hit them first—a mixture of wet dog, fresh-turned dirt, and soot. It made them all turn their noses, wishing their halted breath stopped their scent from traveling through their nostrils. 

Then, three massive wolves broke through the woods. Their teeth were bared, and their claws dug into the dirt in preparation for a fight. But their presence wasn’t as intimidating as much as it was surprising. From what Carlisle had told the family, the Volturi had killed all of the Children of the Moon. Yet, right before them stood what appeared to be three of them.  

“We mean you no harm,” Carlisle said as he stepped in front of the family protectively. “My family and I have recently bought a house a few miles off the town of Forks. We didn’t know there were Children of the Moon here.” 

The dark brown wolf that stood in front growled in response, its mouth slobbering with rage. On any other occasion, the vampires would have fought the animals and more than likely come out victorious. But their coven had an advantage that none other did. And it came in the form of a six-two egotistical mind-reading vampire.

 “They say they’re not children of the moon,” Edward recited. “And that our kind is not welcome in their land. No dead walkers have survived them.” 

“I assure you we are like no other vampires you may have encountered before,” Carlisle continued. “We mean no harm to humans, for we do not need of their blood to survive. We exclusively feed off animal blood.” 

“They say they can’t trust you simply off your word. Especially when they don’t even know your name.” 

“My apologies,” the older vampire smiled. “I am Carlisle. The boy translating for us is Edward. This is my wife, Esme, and the newest additions to the family, Rosalie and Emmett.” 

“From left to right, Levi Uley, Ephraim Black, and Quil Ateara II,” Edward said. “They say they are shapeshifters tasked with protecting the land from any and all enemies. Like us.” 

“I assure you, we do not mean to cause you any harm,” the patriarch affirmed. “In fact, I propose we make a treaty. A mutually beneficial agreement that shall extend to all of your descendants for the rest of time. What do you say?”  

The three wolves looked at each other, lost in thought, as they deliberated silently on the vampire’s offer. Given the position they were in, there was only one answer they could give, and it was the one they had all been expecting. 

“They agree that given our claimed diet, a treaty is the best decision,” Edward said. “They want to meet three miles west of this location at midnight over a bonfire to discuss the terms of the agreement.” 

“I don’t see why not,” Carlisle agreed. “We shall see you then.”    

The wolves waited until the family was a safe distance away before turning back to where they had come from. The vampires found their very existence befuddling. They looked exactly like the werewolves that had once been—men who turned into wolves and looked at vampires as their natural enemies. Yet, these ones could shift in the light of the morning. They seemed in control of their actions, and they ran in a pack. More than that, they had faced them, and they were still alive. Children of the Moon, they definitely were not. 

The Cullens headed back to their home to await nightfall, still unsure of who exactly they had just encountered but certain they’d end up with a good enough deal in their new town. 

“That was awfully easy, wasn’t it?” Esme said as they settled around their living room. “I thought we were sure to get a bigger fight.” 

 “Those mutts knew they were outnumbered and outpowered,” Edward chuckled as he slumped into the couch. “They would never put up a fight with us.” 

“Do you actively wake up in the morning and decide you’re gonna be a giant prick?” Rosalie scoffed. “Or is that just an awful character flaw you were born with?” 

She couldn’t help the smirk that stretched across her mouth as Emmett snickered beside her, a sense of accomplishment surging deep within her. 

Emmett had quickly become the blonde’s closest friend and confidante. While she helped him with his dietary struggles, he kept her company. And for the first time in the couple of years of her turning, she didn’t feel alone. 

He’d kept her secret as he had promised. He said every time he felt the thought sprouting in his head and Edward was around, he would scream as loudly as he could in his mind. And he’d known it worked when the older vampire flinched for no reason at all. It had become a sort of challenge to the boy. He had gravitated from screaming to picking a jingle or a phrase a day that he would repeat over and over until Edward either left them or tuned him out. And he had done it all for the friendship he had built with Rosalie. 

“What? You’re gonna defend them?” Edward countered with disgust. “As if you hadn’t thought the same thing. As a matter of fact, we all did. So, don’t go around thinking you’re better than me.”  

“At least none of us said it out loud, Eddie-boy,”  Emmettt interjected.  “That’s the difference here. Don’t get angry because other people have some shred of dignity.”  

“Oh, please, you’re only saying that because you always take Rosalie’s side,” the boy grumbled. “If it weren’t for her, you would be saying the same thing.” 

“Is that right?” the bigger vampire challenged. “You think you know me, Edward? Do you really think you know a single thing about me?”

“I know enough. There’s only so much you can hide from a mind reader, Emmett.” 

“You’d be surprised,” he smirked. “Just because you can read my mind doesn’t mean you’re getting anything of substance.”

“Well, I normally do when my subject’s lights are on upstairs,” Edward jabbed. “But I can’t ask a lot from a guy who thought they had a chance at winning against a bear.” 

“Maybe not then, but I’ve taken one on now,” Emmet spat, standing in front of Edward and towering over the boy as he stood. “And I can most definitely take you on as well if you want to question what’s going on in my head. And we both know who is going to win between us.” 

“Alright, boys, that’s enough,” Esme interrupted, ever the mother she was. “It does us no good to fight within the family.”  

“No, I think it’s healthy to air out our grievances from time to time,” Emmett continued, his eyes trained firmly on Edward’s. “Sometimes people need to be knocked down a peg or two. Works wonders for the ego.”

“I don’t know why you’re being so protective over Rosalie,” Edward said, suddenly snapping his eyes toward the girl. “You shouldn’t be so protective of this fairy lady.”

If Rosalie had been able to breathe, she was sure those words would have knocked the wind out of her lungs. How could he have known? She’d guarded her thoughts well, and she knew Emmett had as well. “What did you just call me?” 

“Come on, Rosalie. Let’s not play games here,” he smirked. “We both know what I’m talking about.”

“That’s enough, Edward,” Carlisle tried to interject, but the boy continued. 

“If you wanted to hide your true self so much, maybe you shouldn’t leave your journal where anyone can see it,” he said. “It doesn’t take a genius to know that you’re a dyke.”

The sound of a slap echoed through the room as Rosalie’s hand smacked Edward’s cheek, the suddenness enough to have him stumbling back. He stared at her in shock, surprised at her break in composure. 

“Take a walk, Edward!” Esme finally exclaimed. “You’ve gone far enough.”

But the girl didn’t stay long enough to see if he would stay or leave. She sped out the front doors and didn’t stop until she felt she was far enough away. 

Anger bubbled deep in her chest, and she had no other method of release than violence. She pounded her fists into a tree, over and over and over until she had almost made it through the other side. She punched through her sadness, punched through her ire, punched through her fear. She punched until the tree could not hold itself upright anymore, tumbling to the ground with a deafening thud. 

She had been so careful. Handpicked every single thought she had, kept her distance, and hid her personal things. And yet, Edward had been able to figure out her secret because of one careless day. One measly careless second, and he’d been able to see the one thing she kept closest to her heart. 

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” she heard Carlisle ask from behind her. 

She had sat on the tree she had broken, listening to the quiet of the forest before he arrived. It made her feel… well, alone. “Sure,” she sighed, brushing away the dirt that had stained her knuckles. “Can’t really stop you.”

“I wouldn’t if you didn’t want me to,” he said with a smile. They sat in silence for a moment as he tried to find the right words. “I’m sorry about Edward. He’s a good kid most times. Just… emotionally challenged.” 

“Nice way to say he’s an asshole,” she scoffed. “I’m guessing you’re here to say I should start looking for a new coven.”

“Why would you think that?” 

“Come on, Carlisle. I’m surely not what you expected me to be when you turned me,” she said, her eyes trained on her feet, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. “I’m definitely not someone that aligns with your moral values.” 

Carlisle could only chuckle softly at the girl and her misconceptions. She’d been with the family for three years, and yet, she barely knew them at all. “When I was still a human, I used to judge everyone I met,” he said. “I was raised by a pastor, and I became a vampire hunter. Although, at the time, I didn’t know I was passing judgment. All I had known was that different meant bad, even when I strived to be better than my father. “But life quickly showed me that nothing is simply black and white,” he explained. “I’ve lived too long now to keep those misconstrued thoughts alive in my head and my heart. I mean, I became what I was raised to hate most in my life. And I learned that just because you’re different, it doesn’t mean you are bad.”

“This is different from being a vampire, Carlisle. Even your bible says people like me are sinners and vile,” she said, her voice trembling under the weight of her words. “I am condemned and doomed just for who I love.”

“How is it any different? Well, I guess you weren’t born a vampire,” he chuckled softly. “But, it is still something you cannot change about yourself. In my eyes, loving someone could never be a sin. Even the good book says so. You’re not damned, Rosalie, and you certainly are not doomed.”

The last thing she had expected was Carlisle to be one of the most accepting people she could have met, other than Emmett, of course. She knew of his religious path and the beliefs he still held close to his heart. Those had her fearing the repercussions of him knowing her true self. Her sexuality was the only thing she could keep for herself. Guard it close to her heart so no one could use it against her—not that it had worked with Edward. She had gone two decades of her life hidden in the shadows, trusting only two people with her secret, but it had all been for naught. The people who truly cared for her wouldn’t mind who she loved as long as she was happy. 

“I promise I will reprimand Edward for the words he said and for infringing on your privacy,” Carlisle smiled. “And I give you my word that he will never, ever use that hateful rhetoric in our house ever again.” 

“Thank you, Carlisle,” Rosalie beamed. “You can’t know how much this means to me. Truly.” 

“We’re on your side,” he said. “Whether you feel it or not, Rosalie, you are part of this family. And we’ll stand beside you through it all.”

The girl couldn’t help but wrap her arms around the man. All words escaped her as she tried to pick the right ones, but a hug seemed like the right response. Carlisle had brought her into this new world out of pity, but he’d gently guided her to people who loved her unconditionally—except for the one exception. Even if she detested the life she had to live as a vampire, she was grateful to have at least that. 

“Well, we should head back and get things sorted before tonight,” Carlisle said. “We need to go into this as a united front. Or at least appear like we are.”

“As long as Edward stays as far away from me as possible, I don’t see why we won’t.”

“You won’t have to worry about that,” he assured. “And just so you know, Esme gave him quite the talking to before I left. I bet we could catch the end of it if we hurry back.”

Rosalie reciprocated Carlisle’s playful grin before they took off in a sprint back to the house. Lo and behold, Esme was still yelling at Edward when they arrived, his face solemn like that of an ashamed child. Meanwhile, Emmett stood not too far back, snickering to himself and, more likely than not, giving the mind reader hell inside his head. 

It took everything in the girl not to boast as she walked past him, her head held high and a grin adorning her pink lips. He wouldn’t meet her gaze, his eyes trained on the tips of his fingers. She rather preferred it that way. Edward had no right to look her in the eyes, and she was glad he finally knew his place. 

For the first time in the three years she had been with the Cullens, she had finally felt part of the family. She hadn’t expected them all to rally behind her against Edward, but her heart warmed as they did. They had all seen past her cold exterior and inhuman beauty. They had seen her soul and learned her worth. They cared for her, and they weren’t ashamed to show it. 

At that moment, she wondered what would have happened if Vera had also become a vampire. They could have both joined the Cullen family and finally have the life they had dreamed of—at least the mirage of it. They would have been able to love each other and live freely amongst the immortals, sure that they’d be loved and protected. She thought they’d have love stories written about them, poets and singers would cry at the mention of their love. They would’ve had eternity and a day to bask in the warmth of the other, and no matter what anyone thought, they could simply be. 

But then, there’s a reason why dreams only appear when we’re asleep. At some point, they end, and you wake up. 

There would never be a perfect ending for them whether they lived for eternity or just a day more. Their love was meant to end at one moment or another. There had been a semicolon placed on the story the moment Vera got married and had Henry. And a period ended their sentence the second blood stopped rushing through Rosalie’s veins. 

Vera had always been a dream for Rosalie, and turning into a vampire simply woke her up.

Hours passed, and finally, the moon had reached its highest point in the sky. The clock on the living room wall confirmed that midnight had arrived, and it was time to face the wolves once more. In the distance, a string of smoke signaled their destination, and they rushed toward it. 

The smell of fire filtered through their noses soon enough, mixing with the scent of the wolves and the forest. The wind murmured a quiet warning to everyone and everything around; what was about to occur that night was nothing short of history in the making. 

When the Cullens arrived, three men wearing wooden wolf helmets were waiting for them. Behind them, a large bonfire crackled and danced, filling the darkness with a bright and warm hue. It would have been a beautiful sight to behold had it not been for the menacing stares the three men were gifting the vampires. 

“I take it you’re Ephraim Black,” Carlisle said, breaking the silence and extending a courteous hand toward the other man. “As I said before, my name is Carlisle Cullen, and this is my family…” 

“We can skip the niceties, cold one,” Ephraim interrupted. “We are here to settle business and go our own ways.” 

“Alright, if that is what you choose,” the vampire smiled. “Shall we begin then?” 

That night, a treaty was formed between two unlikely kinds. Between maps and discussions, an agreement over land and behavior was reached, pertinent to their current lives. Mutual discreteness over their supernatural status, explicit boundaries in regions of the town, and, most importantly, no harm could ever come to a human, whether by hunting or transforming them into a vampire. If any of these terms were broken, it would mean the start of a war between the Quileute tribe shapeshifters and the Cullens. And a war would mean an inevitable end to one of the races. 

Rosalie understood the need for a treaty. Being at odds with someone so close by could only lead to pain and discomfort, and she already knew what it was like to live with that. 

But seeing the shifters’ ability to put everything aside for the common greater good—regardless of whether or not they had felt outnumbered—gave her the best solution to her Edward-shaped dilemma. After that night, he would never treat her like he had, and she’d behave amicably toward the boy, pretending he was nothing more than a thorn in her side—a tiresome nuisance, if you will.

At the end of the day, it was only eternity. 

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[thekillingmoonmoon]

guys my age

Pairing: Kishibe x Fem! Reader Warnings: NSFW, age gap (Kishibe is however old he is – 50? Reader is late twenties), smoking, alcohol,  reader goes through a breakup but it’s not a bad one Length: 4k Song: Guys My Age – Hey Violet

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you read your phone’s screen again and cussed, throwing yourself down on the hotel bed with a thump. “Trouble in paradise?” Kishibe looked over from the windowsill, the smoke swirling around his head in a sunlit halo. “More like, good riddance to bad rubbish,” you groaned, dropping your phone to the mattress beside you. “At least one of my problems has the good grace to sort itself out,” you grumbled, leaning back and pinching the bridge of your nose. “Which one of your problems was it? Rent? The boyfriend? Makima?” you peered at Kishibe from where you lay, squinting at him in confusion. Since when did he care?

“If it was Makima, I think we’d be in a very different position right now,” You answered, gesturing to the rundown hotel you were currently staying in. Kishibe scoffed out a chuckle and took a sip from his flask, offering it to you when you eyed the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he drank. You took the flask with thanks and threw it back, relishing the honeyed burn of the whiskey as it spilt down your supple throat. You missed how Kishibe watched you drink, how his dark eyes narrowed when a drop of liquor slipped past your lips and down your chin, trickling in its cinnamon sweetness down your silken neck. You cleared your throat.

 “It’s the boyfriend,” you chuckled drily, “The trash took itself out this time.” Kishibe raised a brow. “Tsunada broke up with you?” once more, you squinted at Kishibe, wondering when he had ever bothered learning the name of the third division hunter you were dating for the last six months. Emphasis on “were”, as the man in question had just broken up with you for being ‘too serious’. “Yep,” You flopped back on the bed, a blood spatter of red and white on the navy sheets.

“You should wash,” Kishibe instructed, and you groaned, wanting to throw yourself on the bed and sleep for the next ten years. But Kishibe had drinking plans, and as his partner, it was expected that you join him. You rolled yourself upward and grabbed your bag from the end of the bed, leaving Kishibe to seat himself on the twin bed on the other side of the room. You threw his towel at him as you closed the bathroom door, muttering about ‘old men getting sick’ and you not wanting to play nursemaid if he got ill from leaving his hair wet. You barely heard his reply but knew it had something to do with what you’d look like in a nurse’s uniform. You flushed at the thought, and slapping your cheeks at your embarrassment, stepped into the shower. The room still smelled of him, of heady musk and light pine, of cinnamon cigarettes and expensive aftershave, and as you breathed him in, you realised how truly fucked you were.

You were in love with Kishibe. Undoubtedly, irrevocably in love.  After three years as his rookie partner, you’d fallen into a neat rhythm with the older man, quickly becoming the most efficient pair of hunters in Public Safety. The rumours swirled in your wake, the young pup to charm the old war dog, the only partner to last through Kishibe’s rough training and still come out of it semi-sane on the other side. Not that you’d claim to be sane. Not after all the things you had seen. Not after falling for a man nearly twice your age and as emotionally unavailable as a stray black cat. Tsunada had been a distraction, as had the three guys before him. All young and bright-eyed boys whose reckless charm and careless caresses had only barely filled the aching gap in your heart, so empty of cynicism and bitter whiskey.  You undid your hair, grimacing at the flicker of dried blood that fell from your tresses. You plunged in to wash your hair, scrubbing your skull so hard, hoping that you could scrub yourself clean of Kishibe.

Today had been another successful hunt, way out in the boondocks of some country town, where a Corruption Devil had settled in. It had taken you more than half a day to get to the town, but less than two hours to get rid of the devil, and now you were stuck halfway home, forced to stay the night in a hotel. It wasn’t the first time you had been forced to share a hotel room with Kishibe, but it was the first time neither had been so mortally wounded to require around-the-clock nursing. You wondered if the same easy silence that filled your sunlit hours would pervade the darkness as well. You hoped it would, and the warm uneasiness that had been building up in your lower stomach over the last year or so would disappear into the night, along with the sounds of Kishibe’s chainsaw snoring.

You shook your hair out, happy only once the water ran clean and stepped out of the shower. You needed a distraction. From your ex-boyfriend. From Kishibe. For whatever feelings you had for Kishibe.  You rinsed yourself off and rummaged in your bag, pulling out a fresh white shirt. You thought to the night of drinking ahead and wondered if Kishibe would let you get some company for yourself this evening. You needed it. Needed the rush of playing cat-and-mouse, of fumbling hands in the dark, of losing yourself in someone else’s body for the first time in months. You left a few buttons undone, showing off a tasteful sliver of cleavage as you huffed and puffed back into your trousers. You did your hair and face, sure to put on a lipstick that screamed ‘fuck me,’ and stepped out of the bathroom.

Kishibe choked on his flask, hacking up what sounded like half a lung when he saw you exit the bathroom.

 “What?” was all you said, raising your eyebrow as the man, “did you forget I was a woman?” Kishibe could only cough in response. You grabbed your jacket,

“Let’s go.”

…

You weren’t drunk enough for this. Not for this drivelling conversation and certainly not for the slimy pickup lines slithering from the hunter across the table. Kishibe was lost in a conversation, nodding and hemming along to whatever was being said by the senior hunters. You needed a smoke. You scrambled to your feet, meeting Kishibe’s eyes as he looked across at your movement. You motioned that you were going for a smoke and he nodded in understanding.

You broke free into the darkness, breathing in the heady scent of wet asphalt and city lights. You rounded a corner into an alley and fiddled around in your jacket pocket, retrieving a pack of cigarettes and a light. You flickered the flame to life, thinking of all the times you had lit Kishibe’s smokes, leaning in between gaps in the rain, sharing breaths in the muggy air. Smoke trickled from your mouth in a dark dragon of grey and blue, the clouds catching the reflection of the neon sign of the bar above your head.

 “Hey baby,” came a dark coo, and you tilted your head to peer into the dark.  “Kishibe?” you asked, despite knowing it wasn’t him. You would know his voice anywhere, that deep soft rasp that stirred your lower stomach into a fluttering of iron butterflies. “Aw, darling, you wound me. As if I would ever come close to that gross old bastard.” It was the hunter from before, the one whose pickup lines were worse than any of the drivel Tsunada had fed you. “I’m not interested,” you gave a polite smile and prepared to go back inside. “Really, because you were giving me bedroom eyes back there,” he approached you, coming closer and closer, tainting the air with the bitter tang of beer and old cigarettes  “You made an incorrect assumption then,” you corrected him, straightening out and preparing to throw your cigarette out onto the damp concrete. A pity, you wanted to savour it. He crowded up to you, using his height against you, casting a shadow over your shorter form. You looked up at him, tilting your head and squinting. “Aw, don’t be so frigid, baby,” he leaned his hand above your head, effectively pinning you between the wall and his body. You sighed. You really didn’t want to start a fight, especially not with another hunter. “She isn’t being frigid, boy, she’s being polite,” oh, that smoke-saturated voice soothed you, getting you to drop your guard as you saw Kishibe flicker into view. “Get lost, punk,” he said, motioning for the guy to walk, and the idiot listened, suddenly aware that he was between the two toughest devil hunters in the agency.  Kishibe came to stand beside you, cigarette already clenched between his teeth. You lit up for him, relishing the way he leaned in close, the scent of his aftershave rolling down your spine. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall next to you.

“Did I ever tell you that you have shit taste in men?” he asked, and you snorted. “No, but I believe you,” you answered, shaking your head. “Why do you go for punks like him?” “I don’t know,” you huffed, “their boyish charm,” you lied. Kishibe tsked. "Clearly you need a real man,” he said, and you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. What was he playing at? You shrugged.  “Unfortunately, those are hard to come by, unless you know any takers?” you jibed, a little gutsy, now that you weren’t looking Kishibe in the dark, depthless eyes. “I could name a few,” he grunted, and this time you properly turned and looked at him. He took a step toward you, moving closer than ever before, a mere breath away. He looked down at you, all rippling muscles and rugged scars. “And would your name be on that list?” You closed your eyes as you asked, hating to see the reaction in his eyes. You could feel him, almost sense his body around you, surrounding you. “Well, you’d never have to go out dressed like this again,” a single calloused finger traced the low fit of your shirt, almost brushing your breasts. “Or mess around with those boys again,” he rumbled, his finger trailing up your throat, where he gripped your chin.

“Tell me, princess,” he rumbled, “did that bastard even make you cum?” You were sure he could feel the blush radiating off your cheeks, but you bit your lower lip and shook your head. The noise that left Kishibe’s throat was dark and deep as it vibrated through you, sending shivers down your spine as he leaned down. He was just a whiskey’s breath away, all cinnamon and sinful musk, his dark eyes watching your face as he drew closer.

 “Tell me to stop,” he said, and you threw all caution to the wind. You grabbed his tie and pulled him down, crashing your lips to his, tasting the bitter tang of beer on his lips. For a moment, Kishibe paused, his eyes wide open, before he was kissing you, driving you back into the wall, stealing every gasp of air from your desperate lips.

 “Fuck,” he cursed as he pinned you to the cold bricks behind you, pressing his tongue past your teeth and flooding you with the taste of him. His hands seemed reluctant to touch you, so you grabbed them from the wall behind you and settled his hands on your waist and hips. His thick hands were eager, filling you with warmth as he gripped and groped at your flesh. His hips found yours, pressing you even deeper into the wall, his thigh coming in between your legs to push at the apex of your legs. You whine, feeling him rub his thigh over your needy cunt and his hips stutter against yours.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he gripped your hips, rocking them over his thigh, fucking you on his leg. You moan his name, and he groans, stopping and grabbing your hands as they explore his toned chest.

For a moment you think he wants to stop, that he’s rejecting you, and you feel like you could curl up and disappear, but he reads the bright fear in your eyes and leans in, pressing a single chaste kiss to your swollen lips.

 “Relax doll, I’m only taking you somewhere else,” he rumbled, “somewhere no one can interrupt us.”

You blindly followed him through the dark, stumbling behind him as he makes the short trip back to your dingy hotel room. He held your hand the whole time, large and warm and engulfing yours in its calloused grip. Once in the elevator, he turned to you, dark eyes suddenly serious, despite the hunter’s light that shone deep in their murky depths.

 “This is your last chance, sweetheart,” He stepped closer, crowding you into the corner of the lift, his trench coat shielding you from view, “Tell this dirty old man to stop.”

“Why would I?” you answered, grabbing at the lapels of his jacket, reaching up on your tiptoes to lay a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, where his scar severed his face. He groaned at your featherlight touch, his hand coming up behind your head to meld your lips to his, holding you tight to his body, so that you could feel his muscles ripple against your tender touch. He only tore away when the elevator dinged your sudden arrival and then he was gone again, practically dragging you through the door and pressing you up against the cool wood, his mouth meeting yours once again. He pushed your jacket from your shoulders, gripping your upper arms tight as he laid a trail of sloppy kisses down your jaw. He sucked your skin into his mouth, nipping and suckling at the skin until he was sure he had left his mark on you. You shucked his jacket off as well, throwing the heavy canvas aside and fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He was quick to do the same, exposing your tits to his hungry mouth as he cupped you beneath your bra.

 “Fuck, look at these tits,” he cooed, squeezing and groping at the soft flesh, “So fucking beautiful, better than I ever imagined,” he groaned, biting and teasing your nipple through the fabric of your bra. He scraped his teeth up your chest, slithering his hands down the slope of your stomach until he reached the waistband of your pants. He made quick work of the belt and zipper, sending your pants to your knees as he teased your clit through the fabric. Your hips bucked, unused to any decent touch and you blushed, flushed hot by the sudden attention after being neglected for so long. Kishibe kissed you harshly again, biting your lower lip back with a pop before skimming down your body. He nipped at your stomach, lathing his love over your belly, pulling down your panties. He watched a thin string of your arousal cling to the fabric and he hummed, helping you step out of your clothes. He knelt before you, reverent in his worship, fumbling prayer from his scarred lips as he licked and sucked at the skin around your cunt. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and sunk his tongue into your cunt, his huge hands engulfing your hips to stop you from bucking onto his face. He licked a slow stripe up your pussy, finding your clit and swirling his tongue around it until you could feel your cunt clench around nothing.

“You’re gonna cum on my face, princess,” Kishibe told you, murmuring into your slick silken skin, “and then you’re gonna cum on my cock, yeah?”, he lapped at you before you could respond, pulling a low keen from your pouty lips before your voice broke into shattered pants. His tongue worked wonders, pressing the hot wet muscle up and into your pussy, effectively fucking you with his tongue. His one hand left your hips, trailing down your thigh and coming up below his chin. The first finger felt like heaven, pushing past your soft velvet walls into your pulsing pussy, reaching, searching until he found the spot that had you shuddering, hips shaking in his grip. He slowly pumped his finger inside you, pushing and pressing as you whined and moaned above him, his mouth never leaving your clit as he traced the kanji of his name over the bundle of nerves. The second finger had your knees buckling, his fingers thicker and heavier than your own, stretching your cunt out to take his cock. He kept sucking at your clit, sending shivers down your spine as he worked you toward climax. His third finger was a surprise, welcomed with a hushed gasp and whimper from your swollen lips as he pushed his knuckles past your puffy folds.

“That’s it, doll,” he encouraged, “take them all.” You could feel pressure pulsing in your lower stomach, sending strawberry starbursts up your spine. You felt dizzy, drowning in the sound of Kishibe lapping and slurping at your cunt. You could feel your climax build, and by the clench of your cunt, Kishibe knew you were close too. He renewed his pumping into your cunt and sucked hard on your clit, tossing you over the edge into a starstruck spiral of static pleasure. He groaned as you came, sucking and lapping up all that seeped from your pretty pussy.

“That’s my girl,” he rumbled, rising from a crouch and kissing you hard. He gripped your hips to his, holding you up against the wall as your knees shook. You tasted yourself on his tongue, moaning at the saccharine tartness as his tongue slipped into your mouth. He stepped back with you stumbling after, holding you upright and pushing you softly down onto the nearest mattress. You bounced on the springy softness, looking up at Kishibe with wide doe-eyes, already fucked out on the orgasm wrought by his tongue and fingers. You stared at him through dreamy eyes, sitting up and reaching for his belt buckle.

 “Easy there, sweetheart,” Kishibe’s hands cover yours, “are you sure you want this?” he asked. You blinked up at him and grabbed his tie, tugging him further down to reach your eye level.

 “I want you, Kishibe,” you soothed, “show me how a real man fucks.” He swore then, unhooking his belt and dropping his pants quickly as he crawled over you on the bed.  You reached down to palm him through his boxers, revelling in the hissed breath that caught low in his throat as you gripped his thick length. He was big, thick and heavy in your hand as you slipped your fingers below his waistband. You smoothed your fingers over his velvet head, smearing pre down his shaft as you pumped him in your hands. He groaned, a restrained grunt spilling past clenched teeth as he moved your hands away and shifted his boxers down and away. You were now bare to each other, your glistening pussy to his twitching length, chest to chest, skin to skin. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time softly as he ran his cock through your soaked folds. You moaned as his cockhead hit your clit, feeling waves of static ripple down your spine. He pressed his cockhead at your entrance.

“You ready, princess?” he gravelled, and you nodded eagerly, your soft silken folds leaving trails of slick on his pulsing skin.

 “Yes,” You panted, “please, Kishibe,” you huffed, the breath pushed from your lungs as he began to ease his cock into your cunt. You groaned at the tight strawberry stretch, sending sparks through your limbs. He filled you slowly, surely, stretching you out until you felt split by his heavy cock.

 “Fuck, doll,” Kishibe paused, slinging your leg up onto his shoulder, “you’re so fucking tight, hah?” He pressed you into the mattress, leaning down and folding you in two as his cock sunk in to the hilt. You gasped, feeling him in the pit of your stomach, twitching in impatience. He paused for a brief moment, as the pair of you caught your breath, you reaching up to him to pull his head down for a kiss, all teeth and tongue and spit as he sucked on your lower lip. He moved languidly, rolling his hips back and out of your plush cunt, and back in with a muted hiss. He set a slow pace, making you feel every inch of him as he ebbed and flowed over your trembling body. His cock reached the deepest part of you, brushing up and over the points that had your eyes rolling back and jaw clenching. You muffled your whines with your hand, reaching up to bite your fist as Kishibe’s hips made contact with yours. He grabbed your wrists and held them above your head.

 “Let me hear those noises, pretty girl, else I won’t be so gentle,” Kishibe warned, nipping the supple skin of your throat.

 “I never asked you to be gentle,” you pouted and prompted a low groan to trickle from Kishibe’s throat.

 “Why?” he snarled, “You want it rough, doll?” he asked, slamming his hips into you with a sudden rush. You scrambled, fingers white-knuckled as your fisted the sheets above your head, your back arching deep as he pressed the pressure point in your cunt.

 “Yes!” you exclaimed, pressing your tits up into his chest. He gripped your hips, hard enough to leave a mark there come tomorrow, and pulled you onto his cock, stopping slightly before setting off at a brutal pace. The sounds of skin on skin surrounded you, wet and sticky and soaked with sweat as Kishibe pounded mercilessly into your pussy, a string of grunts and growls spilling from his lips to your chest. You mewled, releasing your wrists to sink your fingers deep into the muscles of his back, feeling the muscles shift and ripple beneath your clawing nails. You were sure you drew blood, but couldn’t tell as pressure bloomed deep inside your core, burning through your limbs with the fury of a forest fire. Kishibe could feel you clench around him, so soft and strong as his cock pumped into your plush pussy. He stopped, grabbing you by the back of your knees and pushing your legs to your chest. He pistoned into your cunt with speed, his one hand coming down to rub quick circles around your clit. You quickly drew close to climax, feeling each press of his cock deep in your cunt and every swipe of his thumb sending you closer and closer.

“I’m gonna – “ You panted, “I’m gonna cum!” you breathed, keening as the first shudders of your body shook you to your core.

 “Then cum, sweetheart, cum for me,” he groaned in your ear, increasing pressure on your clit until you were shaking in the cage of his arms, limbs twitching and trembling as he fucked you through your high. His name was the only word to fall from your lips, slurred out slowly as he spilt himself deep into your cunt.

 “Fuck,” he grunted, holding himself over you as his hips stilled against yours. You whined when he pulled out, already missing the warmth of his hale body as he withdrew from you. He stepped into the bathroom briefly, exiting only when he saw you shakily try to get off the bed. He tipped you back onto the mattress, a warm washcloth in hand.

 “Don’t run away so fast,” he scolded, gently, rubbing at your battered thighs and leaking cunt.

 “I’m not running,” you said and he looked at you. He crouched before you and reached up to cup your jaw.

“You can run, I won’t stop you. But know that I’ll be coming for you,” he kissed your cheek, “You’re mine now, princess.”

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[hitomisuzuya]

Tighnari x fem!reader. Comfort Smut. Accidental use of an aphrodisiac. Abandonment issues mentioned. Some footnotes at the end.

a/n: Did you all think I was going to choose Scara? Nope 😋 I choose Tighnari. I have quite a few people who encourage to write for myself. So here I am. I hope you all enjoy as well. Please know every word I type is making me feel better. I hope it makes anyone reading this feel better to if they are down. I used one of my beloved @kichikichiko 's suggestions.

You'd been acting very peculiar for about a week now. Tighnari was worried. He eventually started making notes of your distant behavior in an attempt to puzzle out what was wrong. He could smell that something was going on.

*You looked tired as you sat with him in his hut, drawing a picture of creature called a dinosaur from a novel that was dog eared and thoroughly read multiple times.

Tighnari grabbed a bottle of something and offered it to you. "Here..this should help relax you to sleep since you haven't slept for days," he said quietly, setting the bottle down in front of you.

You smiled at him in appreciation, sipping it as you drew. No response however. Tighnari's ears drooped a little. He wished you would tell him what was wrong.

*He sat with you, murmuring quiet compliments about your drawing of the dinosaur. Your favorite was the one with the long talon claw on it's on the middle toes. He'd listened many times when you gushed about the Velociraptors from the novel.

Tighnari's ears pricked when you dropped your pencil suddenly. Your cheeks were getting flushed and he could hear your heart beat speeding up. He could feel some changing in himself as well.

When his eyes darted to the empty bottle on the table, they suddenly widened. "Oh no!" He exclaimed.

Tighnari had made a very VERY rare mistake. He really should've labelled the bottle properly. It was something he was developing for the mating season for fennec foxes. When the female drank it from a water source, the males would be able to smell it.

And now he'd accidentally given it to you instead of a very mild sedative.

He quickly put his hands on your cheeks, making you look at him. "'Nari, please.." you said, panting quietly.

And then it clicked. Your eyes may have been filled with lust, but there was something else there. Buried behind it was a hint of sadness. "Are you serious?" He said, nuzzling your forehead, "why would ever think I would abandon you? You are my mate."

"'Nari.." Was all you could manage to say. His kisses were deep and open mouthed as Tighnari let himself get swept by his lust for you.

Clothes were removed hastily and before you knew it, you were laying on your back beneath Tighnari. "I would never leave you," he whispered, peppering your neck and chest with love bites that would bruise the next morning. He didn't want it any other way. If marking you like this would reassure you, then he would do it all night.

The way you were moaning while he sucked and bit your skin was starting to make him feel frenzied and feral. Rubbing your clit, he plunged two fingers inside of your cunt, shivering when he felt how wet you were. "I'm sorry, my love, I have to prepare you quickly. You smell so good.."

You grasped in pleasure when his fingers found your sweet spot. You spread your legs, locking them in place around his hips. "Please, just fuck me now, 'Nari. I can't stand it anymore.." you pleaded.

You felt dizzy with lust, the aphrodisiac had made you so sensitive. You tugged on his ears, making him whimper, turning his head slightly into your hand, nuzzling it. His ears had always been sensitive, especially so when he was intimate with you.

"Archons, I'm so lucky to have you," Tighnari said, thrusting his cock inside of you. "You aren't even mad that messed up tonight."

"I love you, Tighnari," you moaned, feeling your orgasm building like a furious storm in your core.

Tighnari's cum spilled into you, making his cock squelch in and out of your pussy. Your fingernails dug into his shoulder blades, making his pace speed up. He was determined to help you reach your climax.

"I hope you don't mind, but it's going to take awhile for the aphrodisiac to wear off," Tighnari said between his own pants and moans, feeling your walls begin to clench around his cock. "We going to have to have multiple rounds." His kiss on your lips was gentle.

"Shut up and make me cum again, ',Nari," you said playfully.

Tighnari chuckled. He really loves you a lot.

*I'm referring to Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton. I'm a die hard Jurassic Park/Jurassic World fan. The Velociraptors are very favorite 🥰 Thank you for reading. I feel much better, but my responses to asks may be sporadic and slow tonight. Bear with me, please.

[megangovier]

Scream For Me, Little Mouse

Tattooed!Michael Myers x fem! Reader

Summary: Michael has you chained to the bed, you're nothing but his personal flesh light for him to use, whenever he wants you.

Warnings: 18+ only // choking // oral!f // mdom // hand kink // oral fixation // degradation // p in v (stay safe & wrap up!) // impregnation // pussy slaps // dacryaphilia // mdni

Michael's heavy footsteps could be heard coming down the stone steps of the basement. "Good morning little mouse" Michael said, locking the door behind him. You didn't glare his way, but ignored him and looked at the ceiling, wanting the ground to swallow you up or to disappear far away from here. Growls echoed into the thick air, crawling ontop of you slightly squeezing your face "look at me while I'm talking to you runt! That's so fucking rude, when you don't look at me while I'm talking".

"didn't your parents teach you manners or to respect your elders?" a smug look washed over your face, causing Michael to slap you "don't you dare make that face at me, the only one I want to see is the ecstasy one."

Admiring you "what a beauty, I have under me" his thumb running over your lips. You always liked the way his hands looked but never said anything "I could kiss them all day & night" a smirk ran across his face, wriggling under him, you could feel something grow in his trousers. A squirm left your lips "hush little mouse, I'm the one in control here" a laugh erupts in his chest.

Pulling hard on the chains around your wrists, you kicked and screamed. A hand sliding over your mouth "Do i have to ruin that poor little throat of yours" eyes widened "and don't think I won't". Once again thumb running over your lips, sticking your tongue out slightly, Michael's brows furrowed.

"like that is it? My little mouse has an oral fixation kink, god you're pathetic aren't you, I've chained you up in the basement for my personal use, whenever I want to use you and you're getting off on it? Pathetic" a snarl left his throat "fine, stick that tongue out and suck on my fingers".

Doing as you're told, Michael looks at you in disgusts and rolls his eyes "you're weird as fuck, I can literally feel how wet you're getting, it's fucking dripping down your thighs, already making a mess and I haven't raw dogged you yet". Heat crawling up your cheeks and pussy aching like you're a bitch in heat.

"Alright little mouse, that's enough of that! taking his fingers out, glistening with your saliva "what a messy little girl you're" a whine left your lips. Pouting "what is it baby, you want my fingers again" nodding in neediness "I'm sorry, but you don't make the decisions around here, you stay quiet and lie still, while I use you however I please".

Getting off you, falling onto his knees at the bottom of the bed, pushing your legs open "fuck, you have made a mess haven't you little mouse! It's all over the sheets, which I just cleaned, you better lick that up once I'm done with you". Putting your legs onto his shoulders, Michael inhaled the scent "you smell good fuck, now how do you taste?".

Shuddering at the sight of him between your thighs looking up at you, something throbs "does my tongue feel good baby, the way your cunt clenched around my fingers, i get that answers my question". As Michael sucks and nibbles on your clit, your back arches and legs close around his head "keep them open slut, unless I've got to tie them back, ain't going to stop til your brain turns to mush".

Gripping your thighs with his hands, marking them with his fingers a moan left your lips. "who's my little masochist huh, want some of this too? Moving his head out the way, his hand came down hard on your throbbing clit.

A noise left your throat "do that again for me princess" slapping a bit harder on your sensitive clit this time, a mewl left your lips "ooo, again! Love the sounds you make" Michael done this about 6 more times till you just let go and gushed over the bed sheets.

"atta fucking girl" slapping your pussy a few more times, making your legs shake. Exhausted you were ready to tap out and let someone else take the wheel "not done yet pretty girl, I haven't had my fun just yet" a grin slipped onto his face.

Trousers already unbuckled, he grabbed your legs and wrapped them around him "you're so pretty, but not fucked out like the way you're supposed to look" teasing his cock at your entrance, eyes widened "I know it's big darling, but you'll take it! Fleshlights normally do".

Michael slammed into you, fingers digging into your thighs leaving marks. "those marks are going to look so pretty in the morning, like art on a canvas". Slipping his hand around your neck, pussy clenched around him. "why am I not surprised, you like this? I know you stare at them, when I ain't looking, nice aren't they".

Flipping you over, your back against his chest "now princess, please hold onto something because I ain't going slow, and don't worry about the headboard I'll just buy another one, along with these panties".

Ripping off your panties and shoving them in your mouth "ready slut, I want this ingrained in your brain 24/7, whenever you see me next, this is the thought of me you'd be thinking of". Grabbing hold of your hips, he slammed his cock back into you "fuck, I knew fleshlights like you could take it all".

Withering under him, he could tell how much you needed this, been so ratty lately "atta girl, you're doing so well, going to go faster now and won't stop until I know all my seed has been planted in that cervix of yours".

"once I know all of it has filled you up, I'm going again and again til I know I've fully impregnated you"

@rositaa01xxr @toxicrecs @sexy-monster-fucker @michaelmyers-isdaddy 🫣🖤

[inbetweenknacksandnooks]

What HSR Girls Smell Like Pt. 4

Ft: Xueyi, Ruan Mei, Yukong and Tingyun

Part 3 (Bronya, Serval, Natasha, Seele)

Part 5 (Black Swan, Siobhan, Acheron, Robin)

More UtC

Xueyi

Can a puppet smell like anything to begin with?

Cold. Artificial.

After extensive trial-and-error, she's found out that no.

Her puppet body can not retain any kind of pleasant smells.

However, clothing, and her false hair... can.

She does what she can, trying to fix and implant things that she's sure smell nice on her clothes.

She has no need to bathe, but she soaks her hair in all kinds of fumes and oils. She's sure it'll wear off once she spends time in her coffin, but... if you enjoy it...

She can't smell anything herself. Three of the five basic human senses have been taken away from her. But she can still see and hear your reactions.

She might accidentally have too much on her, actually.

She'll be sure to use exact measurements next time.

Ruan Mei

Plum Blossoms. Next question.

Like. Ruan Mei uses an overabundance of plum blossom stuff.

Haha, it would be funny to imagine that she has different varieties of the same scent.

"This is my plum blossom perfume, and this is my plum-blossom pastry perfume. I also have them both in shampoo and bath oil form." "Aren't those both the same thing?" "No." :/

They're different to HER, okay! One of them is fresher, and the other is warmer.

Yukong

She doesn't care to put anything on her during the day, and so she mostly smells like her feathered bedding, until stale air from where she now works sinks into her skin and pores.

She remembered Caiyi's favorite scent, and keeps it in a special nook up in the rafters where only she knows of its existence. She sneaks whiffs through the glass bottle, but doesn't dare open it, lest the aroma fade.

Yukong also figures that she's much too old for perfumes, colognes, etc. What is there to disguise if sweat and odors aren't produced?

But, if you ask her to get some kind of smell, she'll do it, probably taking 3 different kinds of scents, spicy, sweet, and fresh, and tests to see what you like the best, and will probably just end up using that, unless you ask her otherwise.

Her tail is actually rather odorous when it's wet, since it has sebum oil, so she tends to use shampoo and conditioner to keep it at bay so that it doesn't stink like wet dog.

She'd really love it if you helped to clean her tail, as twisting your body to reach around and clean every few days to a week can be a drag.

Tingyun

She has ALL KINDS of scents.

Being a merchant, she collects all sorts of things, herbs, spices, perfumes, old pillows, various fabrics, etc.

Inevitably, they all rub off on her one way or another.

She does have special tail-spray she puts on, post-drying after a bath or shower. She experiments a lot with them, one week will be oranges or lemons, the next week will be cherry, dandelions, and so on.