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wokelander · 1 month

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SOMEBUNNY LOVES YOU !

ft. leon s. kennedy x gn!reader

tags. hybrids, owner leon, slight coercion, cunnilingus..i hate that word, pussyjob, slight suicidal mention.. hybrids are treats like pets, they have more animal instinct, reader is nonverbal, gn but good boy is used :3

note. commission for @aizawas-dryeye !!! SPROUT I HOPE U LIKE THIS IM SORRY IT TOOK SO FUCKING LONG!!! hopefully there r no mistakes 😭 but if there r ignore them… i changed the plot a lot bc i really like hybrids and i think there r so many fun ways to use them butttt i ended up w this i hope u like it!! if u would like a comm :3 pls dm me! feedback always appreciated <3 this is older leon i think… di and onwards

Leon leaves the office late, but Hunnigan leaves later. She’s wound tighter than a nun’s pussy—Pussy, not asshole, everybody knows butt stuff doesn’t count. He wonders if she ever goes home.

The last time he did see Hunnigan outside of the office space was a month ago, they ran into each other at the grocery store and it doesn’t matter how long you know her, it still feels like bumping into a teacher in public. She looked hot with her hair down and her glasses off, but Leon kept that to himself like the good, decent man he is trying his best to be.

“You sure you don’t want a ride home?” He asks her as he pats himself down. Keys. Phone. Wallet. Gun. “The rain is getting pretty bad.”

“I still have work to do,” Hunnigan brushes him off, she doesn't even lift her gaze from the pile of paperwork.

“Okay, well, your last chance is going, I’m going, and I’m gone,” Leon supplies very obnoxiously as he waltzes past Helena’s empty desk to caress the edge of Hunnigan’s like it’s a really nice ass.

“You can do that quietly, Leon.” He hears when he steps out into the hall.

The rain is so heavy it patters loudly against his jacket—This is vintage fucking leather, but bringing an umbrella with you is just so uncool. The only one Leon has laying around is the one Ashley left at his place and it’s polka dot. He wouldn’t be caught dead in polka dots.

It happens as he’s walking past glass-fronted buildings, revolving doors and every hostile architecture strategy in the book. It used to be the President cracking down on the homeless crisis, not in the way you’d expect of course, but now it’s to ward off stray hybrids. Foxes mainly. Culling is unethical, TerraSave insists.

The occasional alley cat is nothing new, but bunnies? That’s a new one. Bunnies are spoiled little things. He’s only ever heard of show bunnies. Ones that get pampered and decorated like wedding cakes, taught how to jump through hoops so they can get a pretty sash to show off to all their bunny friends.

You tug at his jeans, curled up on the pavement like a fast food wrapper. From under your shirt you produce a muddied teddy bear and wave it around.

“Oh,” Leon says, and then he looks around like someone might catch him bending down to take a closer look at you, “hey there, little one.”

A flash of irritation wrinkles your face, it passes quicker than a lightning bolt. You’re wearing ratty house slippers, he notices as you thump your foot, shoving the teddy into his face once more.

You squeak, agitated by his inability to understand hand signals and bunny noises and twitching ears. Leon crouches down so the two of you are at eye level, and that was a mistake—A really, really big fucking mistake.

He’s always had a soft spot for small creatures with big, watery eyes.

(Sherry, Ashley, Manuela, a stray cat he took in for a couple of months before that left him too, and more recently Rebecca.)

“Fuck, okay, alright,” Leon curses into the open air, his ankles click when he stands up, god, he is getting old. He offers you his hand.

Your initial hesitancy wanes when he smiles at you as kindly as he can smile. No teeth ‘cause what if you think he wants to eat you?

“It’s not a long walk,” Leon tells you, and for a hybrid with such big ears, you don’t seem to understand him, blinking at him stupidly as you trip over yourself in an attempt to match his pace. He slows down, and then when he notices you flinching at every car that whizzes past, Leon shifts so he’s walking next to the road instead.

“Yeah, okay, just—Wait there, yeah?” He sits you down on the couch when the two of you get to his place, shaking rain water off his phone as he moves into the kitchen. It’s not like you can understand him, but if you’re just playing dumb and you really do understand, Leon doesn’t want to hurt your feelings or anything.

Ashley answers after the first ring.

“Hellooo?” Her voice is more nasal over the phone, his ears tingle.

“Hi, Ashley, uh—“

“Hi, Leon, oh my god, it’s been, like, forever!” Usually, he would entertain her a little because Ashley has only ever meant well, but you’re sitting there lost and soaked to the bone on his couch.

“Yeah, I know, I’ve been been busy—“

“You always say that, are you still in D.C by the way?” She’s talking over loud music and muffled voices and laughter.

“Yeah, I’m in D.C. still, wouldn’t go anywhere else—Are you still in Michigan, Ashley?” Leon knows she has a property in Grosse Pointe, more importantly that she has a hutch full of bunnies, a start-up, her father said.

“No, Leon, I left months ago— I told you that already, I messaged you, can you not just open my messages?” She demands, not harshly, rather imploringly. “I’m in Miami right now actually.” She adds a moment later, her pink lipstick likely rubbed off on the straw in her Mai Tai.

“I do read them,” Leon insists, but he does not, “I got a bad memory, but, uh, okay—Ashley, the bunnies do you have those?”

“No, that got shut down, like, when I left, Leon—It was your friend, the redhead?” Ashley huffs, he can see her pouting at him through the phone. “She shut me down, her company did, like, Terrorist something?”

“TerraSave.” He corrects.

“Yeah, Terrasave! They shut me down!” She doesn’t sound half as upset as she should be. She seems to be amused more than anything.

“Why?”

“Funny story actually,” she laughs, “the bunnies got sick super quick, I mean, Leon, bunnies get sick super fast, they also fuck like a lot—“ She says that word in a hushed voice. “Anyway, they kept making noise and my neighbours complained, and it turns out you need a licence to breed bunnies, I didn’t know that?”

“Holy fuck, Ashley, are you—“ He shakes his head, doesn’t even bother to try and fathom what goes on in that empty head of hers.

“Yeah, so, they told me if I didn’t get them to a local shelter on time they’d press charges against me, something about their rights? But, like, Leon, I heard that shelters can kill them if it gets overpopulated.”

“Right..?” He says, not liking where this is going.

“So, the night before my flight I just let them go.” She says breezily.

“Oh my god, Ashley.”

“Why were you asking?”

“Nothing, just, nothing, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Before she can pull him back in with her absolute ridiculousness, Leon hangs up.

What the fuck is he supposed to make of that?

Leon frets in the kitchen for a few minutes, rubbing his hands over his face, scratching his chin, biting his nails, tosses a few things into the floor. By the time he’s done, it looks like the room was picked up and shaken.

He re-enters the lounge, smile taut like a stretched rubber band. You’re sitting right where he left you, swinging your legs absentmindedly, threadbare teddy sat between your thighs. “I guess it’s just you and me for a while, little one.”

A night turns into two nights into a week into a fortnight into a regular part of life. Caring for you becomes a part of Leon’s routine. It comes to him as naturally as holding a gun does.

Hybrid shelters in D.C. are overpopulated, pet shops only take cats and dogs, only he has space for you.

It's lucky you’re easy to love. Fluffy-eared and cuddly and sweet like a stuffed toy. You curl up in his lap and love him in the way no one else has.

You stay.

Mostly because you don’t have the tact to get up and leave. These four walls are your home now and you don’t know any better. You don’t know what’s past the front door. All you know is that it was cold out there and that it is warm and safe inside with Leon. He feeds you, bathes you, loves you—Why would you leave?

There used to be this coldness inside of Leon, an empty space so vast it felt as if galaxies had been compressed and placed inside his chest cavity. A black hole in place of a beating heart. Ada’s restless ghost on his hip like the gun in his holster, and then nothing but himself.

And now you’re here, loving him, making his heart flutter faster than your lashes when you want a treat and you’re so… You don’t doubt Leon, his word is law and it’s not making things easy on him. It’s hard to hold back when you wander around with his boxers on or in your birthday suit or in nothing but those silk shirts he saves for work events.

(He could tell you to bend over, he could ask you to open your legs, and you would do it, but he can’t do that to you.)

You’re a distraction he welcomes into his life, but holy shit, this is hard. Trying to be decent is hard. Vicodin killed his libido, but he took one look at your thighs and the way they squished when you sat down and his dick came to life. You did the impossible, you’re literally Freudian fucking Frankenstein and it sucks. He can’t do that to you. He can’t do that to you. He will not do that to you. He will not fuck this up.

When he gives you a bath, Leon tries to make it all very impersonal. Like he’s a nurse and you’re a patient, that only brings to mind all those nights he’s spent watching sexy nurses fuck men out of bed rest. When you prance over to him naked as the day you were born, Leon closes his eyes, counts to ten, and shifts his jeans slightly. When you’re playing on the ground, rolling around a brightly coloured ball, Leon does not look at the soft, wet spot between your thighs. He does not do that.

He will not do that.

“You seem happier lately,” his therapist notes delicately, he clicks his pen incessantly, it makes Leon’s ears buzz. He’s a man because Leon cannot keep his hands off the lady therapists. They’re usually older women, and that in itself is enough to get him clucking.

EAP bullshit, which by the way, is not a legal requirement—They only send nutcases to the thirteenth floor, and Leon apparently counts as one. Usually, he has a lot to say, a lot to complain about - the skyrocketing cafeteria prices, new recruits not laughing at his jokes, everything a therapist does not need to hear.

This time, he’s quiet, there’s no need to empty his mind when you’ve cleaned it out for him. It’s like you stuck a cotton swab up his nose and pulled the bad parts out of his brain. Just didn’t get to that sick, horndog part of it. Leon’s not sad anymore, more pent up, hard, turned on, aroused. All of that.

If he was a cop, he wouldn’t have to get a mental health check, he would just get a gun and go unmonitored, no one would worry about him killing himself or anything. Leon does get a shiny badge that gets him out of speeding tickets and to the front of the liquor store line though.

The session ends, he gets a message from Sherry as the door clicks shut behind him. Her flight is cancelled, she won’t be able to make it to lunch on Friday.

Before, this would’ve sent him to the nearest bar and Sherry would still be able to smell the liquor on him by the time they finally find another time to meet in the next month or so.

Leon has you now, so there’s no need to be sad. He goes home and is greeted by big eyes and your cotton puff tail and—You’re naked. Okay. That’s nice, it’s nice, he can’t lie. He would never oppose to seeing someone hot naked.

He also can’t pass up a good fuck.

You look like one hell of a good fuck.

Bunnies are, like, built for it. They’re like God’s gift to earth — organic sex dolls. Thighs and hips and ass. He can’t help it. Leon cannot help himself, and that is really an issue he should bring up with his therapist, but he spends his sessions chattering about things that won’t matter next week.

After placating you with pets and a twenty minute cuddle on the couch, shaking you off on the pretence that he’s gotta clean up after work, Leon sheds his clothes and tries to jerk off in the shower.

The cold water batters his back until he’s numb, like the day he found you, and then he spots your face peeking into the bathroom. Your nose twitches, taking in the scent of his body wash, padding closer and knocking on the steamed glass curiously.

Leon wipes it down with his hand, and he smiles at you tiredly, hopes you can’t see the blurred outline of his stupidly hard dick through the glass.

He makes out your figure through the steam, soft and plush and so fucking fuckable. His dick aches. God, he thinks he hears it whine like a kicked dog. Leon wants to touch himself, but he can’t when you’re right there, blinking at him with those eyes—Fucking blowjob eyes, man.

This isn’t right.

Don’t do it, you’re so fucking cracked, Kennedy—If you do this to them, you’ve got no fucking morals—

Leon steps out of that shower, dripping wet, his feet sinking into the bath mat. You chirp and press into him, little hands gliding over the protruding ropes of flesh that sweep over his back. You don’t know what they mean, but Leon always finds that you’re drawn to touching his scars, soothing any phantom pains.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighs, saddened that he has to do this to you, that he has to fuck the shit out of you, “just stay right there, okay?” His dick is leaking like crazy, the tip is wet and it’s pressed right up against your tummy.

If you notice, you don’t say a thing, but you never say a thing.

You just take it.

Shifting slightly, Leon angles his dick between your thighs, keeping you close to him under the guise of a hug. “Press ‘em together for me, sweetheart, a little tighter, little tighter—There we go, my good boy.”

Preening at his praise, you don’t seem very bothered by the cock that wets your slit with the sticky tip. Leon places a hand on the back of your head, bringing it to rest on his shoulder as he rocks back and forth, dick cushioned by your puffy pussy lips.

His body trembles, wrapped around you so tightly his embrace is crushing. You whine and squirm, wanting him to loosen his grip. Leon’s shaking hands find purchase on your hips instead, the tip of his cock bumps your clit and your floppy ears move so fast they almost hit him in the face.

Little by little, you begin to get it. Bunnies are sex-crazed little maniacs. Give a bunny the tip and they’ll take the whole cock. They are nature’s pocket pussy.

Each time Leon pushes his hips forward, in turn you push up on him, the two of you fall into rhythm, matching pace and panting quietly in the heat of Leon’s badly ventilated bathroom.

His cock jumps like he’s a fucking virgin, it’s so sudden, tip smushing against your clit in a nasty wet kiss, and you squeak, eyes wide like saucers, blunt nails digging into his shoulders.

“Sorry, baby, can you—“ Leon shudders, every nerve in his body alight, tingly as a weight settles in his gut. “C’mon, baby, that’s it atta boy.” He urges you onto your knees, cupping your cheek with one hand, keeping your chin up so he can spunk on your cute little face.

“You’re a good boy,” he says shakily, toes curling as his stomach muscles contract, dick twitching with each stroke, “you’re so good, baby.” That keeps you at bay, and you watch him from below with great fascination, running your hands up and down his thighs and driving him fucking insane.

The first dribble of his seed splats on your upper lip, you recoil and squeeze your eyes shut. Leon apologises under his breath as he palms his cock, wringing every last drop out of it. He doesn’t stop until his balls feel like the weight of the world is lifted off of them.

You blink up at him, mildly mortified, wildly confused and partly happy when he smiles down at you guiltily.

“Sorry, baby,” Leon sighs, pulling you up off the ground and wiping you down with a hand towel.

In response, your ears flick from side to side, flattened against your skull and your foot thumps stubbornly. You’re agitated. Maybe ‘cause of the facial, he thinks, but Leon notices that you’re shifting from foot to foot, knees going inwards as you squeeze your thighs together.

Oh. Right. He blue balled you. And pulled your ears a little too hard. God forbid he fucks you from behind, he might rip them right off your head.

Ushering you out of the bathroom - the steam was getting to his head - Leon lays you down on his bed, spreading your legs and placing gentle kisses up your inner thighs.

It’s ticklish so you squirm away from it, tail twitching and your body twisting. Leon splays a hand across your abdomen to keep you in place, keeping his eyes on you, on your curious face as you push up onto your elbows to watch him. Aw. Bunny’s first orgasm, what a treat you’re in for.

He likes going down on people, likes to watch himself in their eyes, likes watching himself make them feel good. Call him narcissistic, but it makes Leon feel better about himself. Like, yeah, he did that. Made them cum so hard their brains melted out of their ears.

“Settle down, baby.” Leon soothes you with a kiss to your mound, the soft fur is matted with his pre.

His kisses trail down your slit, then back up, lips smacking wetly on your twitching clit. Leon pulls the hood back with his thumb, rubbing away at your bud with the pad of his thumb until he frays your nerves. His tongue works its way into your slick hole, curling upwards, as far as it can go—And the whole time, all Leon’s thinking is, damn. He should’ve waited it out. Shouldn’t have lost his composure back there, god, this cunt is so tight he should’ve had a go at it.

Oh well, he has tomorrow, and the day after that, and a whole lifetime with you hopefully.

In a matter of minutes, you come undone and it might be the cutest thing Leon has ever seen. You’re the cutest thing he's ever seen, so this is fucking adorable. He wants to squeeze you until you burst, snap you in half like a popsicle. It washes over you like a wave, lapping at your curling toes and making its way up your body. Your thighs tense and snap shut around his head, Leon pushes them open with ease, and then your back bows off the bend and you let out the cutest little whimper and god.

Why did he wait so fucking long?

You liked this, you liked it a lot.

Leon finds that you can’t get enough of it. Insatiable. He can’t blame you, it’s in your genes, and tomorrow he is going to push his dick so far up into you, he’ll knock something out of place.

A letter drops through the letterbox a while later. It’s from Sherry. A postcard from wherever she is. She sends them often to placate him. It’s a vintage painting of a bunny in a bow, and in cursive font along the bottom it reads: Somebunny Loves you.

Leon smiles without even reading what she’s written, filing it away for a rainy day and slipping under the sheets where somebunny is waiting to love up on him.

#leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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itsnevercasual · 4 months

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Infinity

pairing: college au!harry x reader

summary: The guy next door likes to blast music. You maybe-sorta-kinda really like him.

warnings: cussing, not edited, im not in college idk how it works…

—

You didn’t want to be annoying. Truly, you didn’t. But you and your roommate, Daisy, were asleep.

Or…

Trying to be.

It was difficult with the blasting music next door.

And honestly, you had tried to avoid it. Had let them play their loud music for months now. Sent Daisy over to tell them to shut up so you didn’t have to (because despite her name, she was terrifying when she got mad).

But.. really?

It had to be, like… three in the morning. They’d been blasting it since nine pm, and you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

So, clad in your bunny slippers, pajama pants you stole from someone (don’t ask who, you don’t remember) and a Fleetwood Mac shirt four sizes too big (because that was all they had at the thrift store), hair pulled back into a very messy braid, and glasses you rarely wore because you liked yourself better with contacts (mainly because you were so blind your glasses made your eyes look bigger), you stomped on over.

You pounded on the door (not really.. your knock barely made a sound), and miraculously, they heard you and opened the door.

A boy opened it.

No. Not a boy.

A cute boy. A very, very cute boy.

You blinked in surprise. You had expected girls… were boys even allowed on the same floor as girls?

“Ehm.. can I help you?” he asked after you were silent for a little too long.

“Oh. Right. Uh.. would you mind turning the music off? I have a final tomorrow, and.. I’m next door, so.. I can kinda hear it. On full blast. Um.. you don’t have to turn it off.. just.. down..”

He sighed, turning into the dorm to shout, “I told you to turn it down, Lou!” he turns back to you. “Yeah. Sorry. My mate’s practically deaf, I’m pretty sure. Doesn’t realize how loud he is… you say you’re next door?”

You nod.

“You got the alarmingly scary roommate named after a flower?”

Another nod. Why was he making small talk? You wanted to sleep.

“Ah. Glad y’didn’t send her over.”

He eyes you up and down, giving that sentence another meaning you didn’t really like.

"Right. Well.. just.. turn it down, please," you give an awkward smile and nod.

When you turn to walk away, he stops you, "’ey-- little rude to not give me y'name, isn't it?"

"Oh. Uh.. I’m Y/N."

He grins, "Well, hello, Y/N. I’m Harry."

You nod, pursing your lips as you pull on a strand of your hair.

There’s a beat of silence, and you contemplate just throwing yourself off a bridge, honestly.

"I'll see you around, Y/N."

With that, you scurry off to your room. Despite being uncomfortable in the moment, it wasn't because of him. You just were horrid at talking to boys.

A few weeks passed, and you accepted the fact that maybe you wouldn't see your neighbor as much as you hoped you would.

And really, you weren’t surprised. You’d never seen him before, why would that change? It made perfect sense that he remained as elusive as he had apparently always been.

Well, that is, until you were dragged to a party you really didn’t wanna go to in clothes you really weren’t all that comfortable wearing at your house— let alone at some douchey frat party.

The first hour was fine because it was early, so only a handful of people were drunk.

The second hour was less enjoyable, the longer the party went on, the more people drank.

In the third hour, your friends shoved a drink in your hand, and once you finished it, they sucked you into taking far too many shots.

The fourth hour was when you started to get antsy. You were pushing over the edge of just being a little too tipsy, and it was hot and sticky and crowded and had it always been so hard to breathe?

You shoved your way out of the crowd and onto the empty (or so you thought) patio, and exhaled. It was less of a patio and more of a balcony, since it was the second floor— but it was huge. 20 people could comfortably stand on it and not be crowded.

Your heels clack on the concrete as you walk to the edge of the patio, leaning on the railing as you take deep breaths.

“That bad in there?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the familiar british voice. You spin around with wide eyes and a hand over your heart, “Jesus Christ! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry!” he raises his hands in defense. “I thought you saw me!”

“Clearly not!” you pause and take a deep breath, “Sorry— I’m kinda drunk and I hate being drunk. I’m paranoid enough when I’m sober, so when I can’t even walk straight I’m extra jumpy and anxious. And I honestly didn’t even wanna come out tonight, my friends just dragged me along and put me in some ‘going out clothes’ that I don’t think I even have the confidence to wear alone in my dorm! And—“

You pause at his grinning face.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I? Sorry, I get nervous when I’m drunk. Did I already say that? I think I did. Anyway, I talk a lot when i’m nervous, and I don’t really know how to talk to guys in the first place. If I get too annoying just tell me to shut up and I will. I don’t even realize I’m doing it half the— I’m still going. Sorry.”

“No harm done. I quite like your nervous rambling.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“So what made you run for the hills to come out here?” he asks, standing up from the chair he was sitting on.

“I’m not really a party girl.”

“Yeah, I could’ve guessed that.”

You frown, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not in a bad way!” he rushes out. “But you just.. are a jumpy person, like you said. Like a bunny. I’d be surprised if you went to parties every weekend on your own free will.”

And really— you have to laugh, because he’s right. “Yeah. I’m definitely not a party girl. And I am not the girl who wears this stuff. Not that it’s bad! But.. I’m just not.. comfortable in this,” you shrug, pulling at the short skirt.

The outfit your friends had picked out consisted of a white, very mini mini-skirt, a white cropped tank top, and some black heels. If the skirt was just a little longer, perhaps a little looser, you’d be fine. If you could at least cover up your belly button— you’d always hated it for no real reason except for the fact that, as embarrassing as it sounds, belly buttons freaked you out.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you look great,” he smiles.

You probably look like a tomato’s long lost sibling by now.

“Thank you.”

“But.. I also think you look great in pyjamas and bunny slippers and glasses and that little pout telling me my music’s too loud.”

“Hey!” You cross your arms.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughs as you try to smack his arm. “So, if you don’t like parties, why’re you here?”

“My friends wanted to go out,” you shrug. “I was done the second we got here.”

He pauses, as if mulling over a thought in his brain and you desperately want to know what, before he speaks, “D’you wanna go home, then?”

You blink at him, “What? I— I mean, yeah. I do, but I’m kinda drunk and all my friends are plastered—“

“I’ll drive you,” he cuts you off before you talk yourself up a wall. “Live next door t’ya anyway.”

“Really? I— are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “Wouldn’t have offered if I was. Let’s get y’out of here.”

The trip to the car took far longer than necessary, mainly because you ran into your friends doing shots and got sucked into one more round, which turned into ten more rounds.

By the time you were done, Harry was half carrying you out. He’d long since looped your arm around his shoulders, and his own arm around your waist as you stumbled towards the car.

“Alright,” he sighed once the two of you finally reached the car. “In you get, love.”

You can’t even stop yourself from grinning ridiculously as he helps you get in the passenger seat and buckle.

He shuts your door and slides into the driver’s seat. You stare at him. He smiles, but doesn’t call you out.

He turns on the radio, and you gasp. “I love this song!”

“Do you, now?” he laughs, and it’s almost teasing. Or, perhaps, it is, and your brain is too fogged up to comprehend that.

“Yes!” you exclaim, turning up the volume as Cruel Summer blasts through his car.

“I’m drunk in the back of the car! And I cried like a baby comin’ home from the bar! Oh, oh!” you sing, extremely off key.

“Quite the singer,” he comments.

“Said I’m fine, but it wasn’t true! I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you! And I snuck in through the garden gate—“

“You’re pretty,” you comment as Harry helps you up the stairs.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You have nice eyes. And hair. Your hair’s really soft.”

“Don’t think you’ve ever touched my hair, so I’m not sure how you came to that conclusion, babe.”

You grin. Babe. “It looks soft. Duh.”

“Oh, of course. Duh.”

You think he’s teasing you, but you don’t care to tease back or get offended.

“Alright. Where’re your keys?”

“My keys! They’re… with Daisy.”

“No spares?”

“No,” you pout. “Do I have to sleep in the hallway?”

“No, ‘course not,” he shakes his head, pausing. “Ehm.. new plan. Gonna set you up in my bed, yeah? That okay?”

You nod with a hum.

He moves you one door over and fumbles with the key before finally pushing the door open.

“Bed’s right here, love. In you get, c’mon.”

He helps you sit down on the bed, and you rest your head against the wall.

“Hey, hey— don’t sleep yet.”

“Why?” you whine.

“Gotta get you comfy,” he explains, tugging your shoes off. He quickly goes to the dresser before pulling out pants and a shirt.

“You need help changing?”

You frown and nod.

“Alright. I won’t look, love. Promise.”

True to his word, Harry turns you around so your back is to him as he helps you get out of the tank top. He quickly slips the t-shirt over it.

He lays you down on the bed and slaps a hand over his eyes as he pulls your skirt down and helps you into the pants.

“Alright.. better, yeah?”

You nod, lying on the pillow. He helps you under the covers that smell like him and gives you an extra blanket.

“M’kay. Gonna sleep on the top bunk, yeah? Just say my name if y’need me.”

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“‘Course.”

He moves to walk away, but— “Wait, Harry—“

He turns back to you, “What’s wrong?”

You lift a hand up and run it through his hair. “I was right. It’s soft.”

He laughs.

“Go to bed, babe.”

“Sir, yes, Sir.”

He knew you’d probably be embarrassed in the morning, but he wouldn’t tell you that he enjoyed how touchy you got when drunk.

You didn’t plan on telling him that you’d slightly sobered up on the drive home and just played the drunk bit up as an excuse.

And your keys were in your purse.

a/n: YAYYYY COLLEGE AU HARRY!!!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry fic #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry #college harry #college!harry styles #fbh #lhh #phh #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction

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xazse · 8 months

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im in heat (ovulating) and I jus can't stop thinking about scaramouche helping his lil bunny out when shes in heat:(

love ur content btw, I literally shit myself when I found out u also wrote for jjk.. can I kiss u platonically

SCARAMOUCHE X FEM!BUNNYGIRLREADER

Notes: This is for you<3 and I’m glad you liked my jjk readings, (ofc you can have a platonic kiss!!!) HOPE YOU ENJOY<33

Tags: Smut all around! Tit-sucking, mentions of blowjobs, hybrid!reader, Heats

Pairings: SCARAMOUCHE X FEM!BUNNYGIRLREADER

You’ve been downright annoying, constantly bugging him with your insatiable behavior, whether it’s you gripping onto him for him to stay in bed with you, or it’s you rubbing yourself on him at night trying to stir him awake.

He doesn’t know what’s wrong with you, after another evening of you interrupting his private time he’s done. He takes you to the on site doctor, it doesn’t take 20 minutes before the doctor automatically says you’re in a “heat” since Scaramouche is confused the doctor gathers this must be your first one. He says that whatever needs you may be whining about can either be fulfilled or he can leave you to some specialists he knows, Scaramouche agaisnt that and just takes you back.

He’s taken a week off just for you, you should be happy for him to rot in this room with you constantly in his face, and you are, you show that in a tenthfold.

The first day is spent with you pawing at him and urging him to remove his clothing and yours as well. He can admit it is a little cute to see you beg.

Precise hands slip off your panties, you’re hot to the touch and absolutely dripping, poor bunny being denied for so long due to his confusion. His fingers slip into your cunt and begin fingering you, you’re positioned on your back with both legs spread out wide. Your small plush tail is twitching everytime he plunges his fingers deep into you, hearing small whimpers leaving your throat. His fingers are relentless with their assault on your sensitive insides, he makes sure to press on your spot every so often, sending you into a flurry of sexual emotions.

When he continues, he’s just surprised at the amount of cum coating his hands, the copious amount of slick close to his wrist. You look like you’re on cloud nine, glossed eyes, glossy lips covered in your drool is making him throb.

He quickly unbuttons his pants, letting his fat cock free. He uses his cum covered hand and coats his cock generously, you start to mewl at the loss of his fingers, already attempting to sit up he pushes you to lay back down.

“Relax woman” he scoffs out, your eyes wind down to the way he’s stroking himself, getting off to just the needy expression on your face, you take it a step further by lifting up your shirt, you didn’t even bother with a bra today. This really does the trick and he pounces onto you, so quick to line his cock up with your hole.

A few minutes later and he’s balls deep inside of you, your legs are wrapped around his torso, arms wrapped around his neck and your loud moans going right into his ear. His hips are moving so fast, cock bullying into you, you’re stuffed to the brim: yelping about how good it feels, how much you love him, it’s not long before your entire body pulls him closer and your cumming all around him.

The days afterwards are so dizzying, sex is all that plagues your mind, the room ends up being so hot, so sweaty, all you can think about is the thick cock filling you up, cumming inside you nonstop. Once he��d grabbed your tall ears while you were sucking him off, your fingers wildly rubbing your clit, and you let out the loudest Moan, you slumped against him, panting open mouthed: signaling that you just came for the 2nd time that random night.

The make-out sessions were just as dirty, it was mainly scara shoving his tongue down your throat, holding you by the wrists tight so you couldn’t pull back from it. He barely gave you time to take a break to breathe, lewd slurping sounds resonate through the room.

Scara also pleasures you by sucking on your breasts, though most times the stimulation isn’t there, but with your heat it’s at an all time high, your fingers tightens into his hair, urging him to not stop sucking.

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #zsworks #fem reader #hybrid reader #scaramouche x female reader #dom scaramouche #scaramouche smut #wanderer x female reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer smut #kunikuzushi smut #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x you

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muwapsturniolo · 9 days

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Hockey!matt

First post in the AU!

MATT STURNIOLO: PASSIONATE OR A HOT HEAD?

"Matthew Bernard Sturniolo, a 24-year-old triplet native to Boston Massachusetts. According to his parents, from a young age he and his youngest brother Christopher Owen Sturniolo, were always interested in sports. Seeing this, the parents decided to throw the boys in any sport they could. They started off playing for their town's soccer team, a typical thing for most kids to do. However, it seemed as if the sport wasn't enough for a young Matthew. It was too easy, he cleared all the other kids without even trying. Seeing this, his parents threw him into another sport, lacrosse. Now this held Matthew over for a long time until it became boring, he needed something more.

That's when hockey came into play, a sport most boys in Boston find solace in during the cold months. The sport seemed to be Matt's calling, the ice feeling like a second home. His talent was natural, something most people couldn't obtain no matter how much they trained. He ended up loving the sport so much, he made it his full-time career.

At age 17, he graduated high school alongside his two brothers and their childhood best friend. All four boys managed to get full-ride scholarships to Boston University, a school that had many NCAA wins, and has sent many players to the NHL. Matt took control of the Terriers by force, quickly becoming the captain when only being a freshman. Many of his former teammates and coaches had good things to say about him, but something stood out to me. That something was his anger.

"He was a hothead, always shouting and yelling at us during practice"

"There were a couple of times where he broke his stick and punched a locker after losing a game"

"I remember he argued with our coach one day. The argument was so bad, both of them just ripping into each other. It escalated so quick, one second they were shouting and the next Matt was throwing punches."

All of these are quotes by old teammates who would like to stay anonymous.

It was an evident pattern that managed to follow him to where he is now, the lucky star of the Boston Bruins. I had the specialty of sitting in on some of the practices, seeing how the men work with each other. Just like I expected, Matt was a force to be reckoned with. He yelled and berated some of his teammates, even going as far as getting into an argument with his own brother. It's hard to tell if it's just him being driven by passion, or if he simply has anger issues. I chose to go with the latter considering what I saw during the first game of the preseason.

The Bruins were losing against the New York Rangers, not that the score mattered. The preseason is mainly for the coaches to evaluate their team and see who fits where. So why was Matt Sturniolo causing fights, yelling at refs, and being an overall hothead? He resembled the Hulk, the brute green giant who was also a hothead when angry. It seems as if no matter the situation, training, preseason, or the actual NHL season, he was locked in and out for blood.

He's passionate about the sport, perhaps too passionate. Would it be his downfall? Would the Bruins let him go and leave him to reminisce about his glory days while he rots? We will have to tune in to this year's NHL season to find out."

Y/n Y/L * october 3rd, 2024

AHHHHHH A NEW TROPE/AU!!!!! I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY THIS! IF THIS IS CONFSUING IM SORRY! I TRIED TO MAKE THIS INTRO THE ARTICLE READER (AKA YOU) WROTE ABOUT MATT WHICH JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE HOW YALL MEET! I HOPE THIS GIVES A GOOD BACKGROUND! I PLAN ON DOING FICS FOR THIS AU BUT IM ALSO WILLING TO DO BLURBS JUST HOW I DID FOR BUNNY!READER!!!

LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK!!

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt girl #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine

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pupp0ccino · 2 months

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My Dust variant facts !

That no one asked for yay! ⟢

If I ever get to coloring these refs the current image will be replaced with the finished product.. also disclaimer, im aware these aren't canon , I just like having fun with characters and making my own versions of them

Dust

- he's a shapeshifter, having three forms. His normal form, Dustbunny, and Ghost. I hc him to have some form of identity/personality disorder (it's unspecified which one, that's up to y'all what you want him to have) so multiple forms with different personalities.

- his normal form, is simply just Dust. Hes the closest to looking like classic sans appearance wise compared to horror and killer.

- Dustbunny was mainly made as a kinsona, and for funzies, but Dust only morphs into this slightly smaller form as a defense mechanism, for he feels 'weak and pathetic' like prey. It's basically just him, but taking more on a bunny-like appearance and behavior. Like dust he's very closed off and quiet, but will rather flee than fight.

- Ghost is the complete opposite. Tall, sadistic and cruel with a sick smile plastered on his face. He comes in when Dust's getting a power trip, or needs to get big and protect himself. It kind of puts him in sort of a state of mania, where he has little sympathy for the people around him and how his actions affect others. He's a meanie, and loves to tease at people when ever he sees an opening

- Dust does not like to look in mirrors, or really have his hood off for long periods of time, nor being looked at. Makes him freak out

- he partakes in rabbit like behaviors, his nose twitches when his curious or irritated, he stomps his foot against the ground when he's upset, and he burrows. Accompanied by his tail being a rabbits tail !

- he's also a vampire, like nightmare, but instead of sucking the negativity out of souls, he just has cravings to bite and drink blood, has large sharp fangs, plus being a total night owl.

- he has really bad avoidant attachment when it comes to relationships, he's in fact fearful of gaining close bonds due to the fact he's lost people he's loved over and over and over and over again, before literally killing them off himself. So he purposely pushed himself away from people to not get too close.

- as in the picture above, he has markings speckled all across his face, it's also the same for his body down his arms and shoulders. He's kind of embarrassed about it, and hates it being pointed out

- he goes through psychosis, and psychotic episodes

- he's a stoner lolz (despite maryjane usage very much not being recommended to people who deal with psychosis...)

- his room is a depression room most of the time, he has a little mattress on the floor that looks like a nest

- he's a monster energy drinker because yes

- he's selectively mute, and has a very low social battery. He doesn't like crowded spaces and only has a select few people he talks to (killer, horror, fell)

- he has a hard time remembering to eat and will accidentally and sometimes purposely go days without eating. When he does eat, it's in very small portions, he doesn't like food like he used to.

- he doesn't like touch, don't touch him he will stab you

- Phantom, the papyrus voice in his head. What he says to dust is based on his state of mind. When he's in a normal state of mind, Phantom is a lot more like how papyrus usually acts , getting on Dust for little things like telling him to clean his room or that he has to take care of himself. The voice worsens as his state of mind worsens turning from silly banter to tormenting him about what he's done, and sometimes papyrus can also be like a Jiminy cricket to dust, a judge to his morals, and trying to set him on the right path. Dust hates this , and rarely ever listens.

- one of the things he does in his free time is play video games, he's your basic gamer boy. He likes to play cod mainly

- another hobby of his is that he likes to sew, and patch work his clothing and fabric items, along with making little plushies.

- bad sans poly bad sans poly toxic yaoi ..

That's it for now , I'll probably add more on later !!

Dust belongs to ask-dusttale

#sans undertale #undertale #undertale au #utau #utmv #dusttale sans #dust sans #dusttale #Spotify

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