#it’s a one off and he doesn’t really touch on it any more but it’s important to understanding him I think

[fluentmoviequoter]

I'm Closer

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: During a string of break-ins in your neighborhood, you have to stay home alone while Tim works a night shift. When the intruder gets close to you, you remember Tim is always closer.

Warnings: depictions of breaking and entering, anxiety/fear, vague threat, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 1.8k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

When Tim returns home, you’re sitting in the corner of the couch with your knees pulled up towards your chest as you type on your phone. He sighs and locks the door behind him.

“Where?” he asks, moving to stand behind you before he lays his hands on your shoulders.

“Two streets over,” you answer. “The Clarksons.”

You click the power button and toss your phone aside before you stand on the couch. Tim’s hands fall to your hips as he tilts his head back to look at you.

“How many is that?” you ask softly.

“Fifteen,” he replies. “There was one yesterday afternoon, we were investigating it all morning. Seven detectives and not a single lead between them.”

Leaning forward, you place your hands on Tim’s shoulders. He lifts your hips and pulls you carefully over the back of the couch. Before your feet touch the ground, you move your arms around Tim’s shoulders and hug him tightly.

“What if we’re next?” you ask against his neck.

Tim doesn’t answer right away, opting to tighten his grip on you as he moves one hand to smooth over the back of your head. He understands your concern. You have both been on edge since the second reported robbery. Fifteen break-ins in your neighborhood in less than three weeks is more than enough cause for concern. Each report makes Tim more eager to get the thief in cuffs but simultaneously discourages him from leaving you home alone. You’ve been triple-checking locks even when he is home, so he can’t imagine the weight you’re carrying when he’s gone.

“I’ve been driving by every few hours,” Tim tells you. “And Wade has patrol officers all over this area. We’re going to catch him.”

You nod against Tim. You desperately want to believe him but refuse to let your guard down. Tim mumbles something against your hair, and you pull back just enough to tilt your chin up.

He sighs, then says, “I have to work the night shift tomorrow. If you want to go stay somewhere else, I get it.”

You shake your head and take Tim’s hand, leading him toward your bedroom. “There really haven’t been any leads? Not even what kind of house they’re targeting or anything?”

“Nothing,” Tim laments. “Whoever this is, they don’t seem to be picky.”

“Comforting.”

Tim chuckles at your tone, then wraps his arms around you again. You never feel safer than when you’re in Tim’s arms. Neither of you are the kind of person to run from a fight, so you will stay in your home tomorrow, alone, and trust Tim and his fellow officers to find the bad guy before anything else happens.

“I could ask Smitty to park his car in the driveway for his hourly naps, try to scare anyone off with the sight of a police car coming and going,” Tim suggests.

“That would work great until they see the donut-hungover cop in it,” you joke.

“Call me tomorrow night, okay? For anything.”

“I will,” you promise. “I love you, Tim.”

The following night, after you kiss Tim goodbye and promise again to call him if you need something and to check in often, you walk into the kitchen and begin cooking yourself dinner. You aren’t hungry, you're too concerned with checking each car that drives by the window and ensuring no one can see inside the house. You walk through the house and check the locks as your food cooks. Everything is fine, you remind yourself as you carry your food to the couch. You turn on the television, hoping it will serve as a welcome distraction until you’re ready for bed.

Tim looks away from the computer monitor before him to check his watch. You’re probably getting ready for bed, and your last update was only a few minutes ago when you said everything was fine and the closest neighbors were home from work.

“Grey,” he calls.

“Two patrol cars are circling now,” Wade answers without looking up from his folder. “Everything’s quiet.”

Tim nods to himself, then clicks his keyboard to resume the security camera footage. Lucy yawns beside him, and Tim resists asking Wade which officers are in your neighborhood. If something were to happen, you’d be more likely to call Tim than dispatch, and he’d like to know who is close.

“She’ll be fine,” Lucy assures him softly.

“She better be,” he responds before watching a man in a bright red tracksuit enter a gas station with a gun in his hand.

You enter the guest room across the hall from your master suite with your phone in your hand to ensure the windows are locked. The windows on this side of your house aren’t very easily accessible, but you check them regardless. In your pajamas and ready for bed, you tug on the window latch and nod when it doesn’t move. Raising your phone, you open your text thread with Tim and begin typing a message. You pause when something makes a scraping noise outside. It goes silent, and several seconds later, you resume typing.

Just before you hit send, a loud pop echoes through the hallway before the undeniable noise of a window sliding open reaches your ears. Two soft footsteps follow soon after, and you begin to panic. You look around for something to defend yourself with, then suddenly remember that Tim told you to take cover first and then defend yourself only if necessary in a situation like this.

The closet door is open, so you grab the nearest object before sliding onto the floor beneath the extra clothes. Carefully, quietly, you pull the door closer to the jamb, then sit back in the dark corner and call Tim.

Tim pauses the surveillance video, zooms in, and gets a clear image of the suspect’s driver’s license as he removes his wallet to pay for a Red Bull. He rolls his eyes at the criminal’s stupidity but mentally thanks him for saving Tim some time finding him. Tim’s phone rings, and Lucy jerks as if she had been asleep.

“Hello?” Tim asks, pushing away from the desk as he waits to hear your voice.

“Tim,” you whisper, clearly panicked.

He stands immediately and lowers his voice to ask, “What’s wrong?”

You take a shaky, shallow breath that tightens Tim’s chest before you say, “Someone’s in the house. I was checking the windows, and then there was a pop in out bedroom I think… Tim, I can hear their footsteps, please come home.”

Tim jumps over the desk he’d been seated at, ignores the calls of his coworkers, and runs through the station to get to his truck. He knows he should alert Grey, dispatch, or anybody, but his thoughts are on getting home and ensuring you’re safe.

“Talk to me,” Tim requests as he slams the door of his truck closed and starts the engine.

“Tim,” you whimper, clutching your phone as your hands shake. “I think they’re going down the hall.”

“I’m on my way,” he promises. The radio in his truck lights up, and he hopes someone saw something and the officers in your neighborhood are on their way.

You murmur something that Tim can’t decipher but remain silent when he asks you to repeat yourself. The truck’s transmission revs as he presses the accelerator to the floor, fighting to keep his mind away from the worst-case scenario. As he turns onto your street, setting a new record for how fast the commute has ever been driven, Tim slams the gearshift into park several houses down. He leaves the truck running with the door open as he runs down the street and unlocks a side entrance to enter.

“I’m here,” he whispers to you before entering the house. He puts his phone in his pocket and raises his gun as he moves carefully through the house. You’re hiding somewhere but thought the unwelcomed visitor was coming toward the main part of the house. A door clicks somewhere down the hall, and Tim abandons his goal of clearing the kitchen to find you.

In the guestroom closet, you hold your phone to your ear with one hand while pressing the other to your mouth to muffle your breathing. The door into the bedroom clicks as it is pushed open farther, and you push yourself against the wall behind you. Tim is in the house somewhere, but your mind is racing with panic and fear. You peek through the gap in the door and see a masked intruder moving carefully through the room. Suddenly, he turns toward the closet, and you close your eyes.

Tim looks into your bedroom, where the window latch has been blown off by a small explosive device, but sees no evidence of anyone currently inside. The door across the hall, however, stands wide open. With his gun ready, Tim crosses the hall and presses his back to the wall before stepping inside.

“LAPD, stop where you are,” he demands.

The masked man stops, halfway between Tim and the closet. Tim sees the closet door isn’t completely closed and wonders if that’s where you are. Sirens sound outside, and Tim takes another step into the room.

“Hands up,” he instructs. “Interlace your fingers and place them behind your head.”

“You’re too late,” the man taunts.

Tim ignores him, and how his stomach rolls at the idea that anything could have happened to you while his phone was in his pocket. “Kneel.” Once the man is on the ground, an officer announces his presence downstairs, and Tim shoves the man unceremoniously toward the hallway and yells his location and that there is one in custody.

Then, Tim abandons his duty to keep the suspect secure as he turns toward you. He opens the closet door carefully, then drops to his knees. When you see him, you lower your phone and reach for Tim. He takes your hands and pulls you closer, whispering promises that you’re safe and he will never put you in this position again.

“When I said to always have something to protect yourself, I meant something a bit more substantial than a bowl,” Tim says, reaching for the jewelry tray you grabbed before hiding.

“It’s heavy,” you defend weakly.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“You’re here now.”

Tim pulls you closer, blocking out the noise of the officers apprehending the intruder, and your adrenaline wears off as you realize you can feel safe at home again.

“How did you get here so fast?” you ask as Tim helps you stand.

“Don’t tell Wade but I broke a few laws.”

You laugh and then furrow your brows. “How did he get in?”

“Right,” Tim remembers. “We need a new window.”

“He was really close,” you murmur.

Tim gently holds your chin as he kisses your forehead. “I’m closer,” he vows before cupping your cheeks and kissing you.

[rikosseen]

James Lee/DG x Reader: Touch

Anon request

DG is extremely good looking. He knows that above all things. Especially with the way his fans fawn over him. That, and because both his appearance, and self presentation account for a great percentage of his career. People are smitten by him. It’s the one asset he adores to show off. And, well, Diego has plenty to show off. He has an extraordinary talent for exceeding all that he sets his mind to. A prodigy, a genius, if you will. However, nothing had ever stuck with him, or gave him the contentment he had so desperately searched and longed for.

As his own expression matches your wide grin, he can’t help but pin the bane of his pride on not himself, but you. Yes, DG is quite honestly very humble. He’s someone with a significant other to cherish and smile up at.

The idol opens his arms, waiting for your body to slam into his.

“JIMMMMYY!!” you shout, running toward him.

DG’s mouth twitches at the ridiculous nickname, but he doesn’t budge until you snuggle your face into his chest. He gently strokes your hair, and rubs the trickle of sweat going down your neck.

“Did you see that?”

He responds by humming, and you tighten your grip on him, unable to contain the joy from winning yet another race. There’s just something so thrilling about him flaunting and betting on your success that makes you want to kick your feet.

“Let’s go grab some food,” you say, slapping his ass and skipping in front of him.

DG shakes his head, and takes out the keys to his bike from his pocket. You stop when you realise he’s not following behind you.

“HURRY UP!”

He slows down, grinning lazily. Is this guy for real? With a heavy huff, you walk back to link arms with him, and pinch the side of his stomach so that he moves. Diego mocks a hurt look, but you honestly doubt this man’s ability to get hurt.

No remorse for little rats like him.

.

.

After bantering about whether to use his bike or your car, and James begrudgingly standing in the middle of the parking lot like a 5 year old, you accept your defeat by sitting on his ride. Jimmy boy lets out an amused grunt at his childish success, and tugs you closer to him with a swift motion of his hands on your thighs.

Ugh.

You instantly fold at his touch, and lean onto him, basking in the scent of his cologne. God, this man. The things he does to you.

All night, all day for sure.

You squeeze him tighter, and slowly allow your hands to slip under his shirt. Oops. Although your clinginess to James wasn’t uncommon, the intimate action still catches him off guard, and he twitches under your touch. As he swerves right, you trace the outline of his abdomen, stopping just above the area where his hips dip. To which Jimmy Boy squirms at.

The man is clutching onto his bike handles for dear life as he makes another turn. His ears are red, and he’s excessively sweating underneath his helmet. One would think that it’d take so much more to fluster James Lee. But no. The man, although very charming, had never really had any contact with anyone like this. Save for head pats to Daniel Park, the only sort of touch he was accustomed to was that relating to violence.

It’s not like James was complaining either. He didn’t hate what you were doing. So, like the nonchalant king that he is, Diego Kang just grunts until the two of you reach a nice, cozy, restaurant.

[zeninslut]

Three strikes, you're (not going) out!

Tw:  fem!reader, smut, rough sex, drug use (weed), vague descriptions of being high, high sex, needy!Toji, kinda mean!toji, Porn with (minor) plot. Dumbification(?) Thumb in butt, squirting, no use of y/n, minor mentions of scent kink, use of daddy, degradation. 18+ MDNI

Wordcount: 3.5k 

An: Hi guys, ah I'm so nervous as this is my first work so please go easy on me. If you write and you read this I’m always open to constructive criticism :) jus please PLEASE inbox me instead i get embarrassed easily. Also, this fic was inspired by @satorena ‘s  "& drip till we soak the bed " which I enjoyed reading if you couldn't tell so take a look at that. The reader is black coded. Actually, this whole fic is as I am a black girl myself.  also grammar isn't really my thing, i used grammarly but thats about all you're getting from me. I really enjoyed writing this and honestly, I can see myself doing this a lot more often so if you have any suggestions lmk! I’ll probably make a more formal post about that but without further ado:

Truth be told you don’t know how you got here, a couple minutes ago you were just adding on finishing touches to your makeup and spraying yourself with your “good girl” perfume by Carolina Herrera. You were way overdue for a girls’ night with Shoko and honestly, you needed this.

Since dating Toji, he has you stuck in the house all day even when he was busy working. Not letting you leave unless he comes with you like he’s your guard dog. Leaving you to stay at home since he took a gig that was able to retire you and himself but he still likes to work so he doesn’t feel too lazy.

 He doesn’t work that often but his jobs have him gone for a while at a time. Every time he comes home to you, he’s such a big baby. He had just gotten home from a gig a couple days ago too. Needing nothing but you, he smothers you right where you lay on the couch despite your protests of him being dirty (may have not showered for 5 days but when you’re a hitman, you gotta weigh your priorities). He doesn't care, all he needs is you. After a couple times, you get used to it, even developing a thing for his natural musk.

You play with his hair pressing soft kisses on his forehead occasionally using the opportunity to smell his scalp as he lays on your soft plush body. He loves to spend his days off being with you, accompanying you with the smallest of tasks. When you ask him why he likes being around when you’re reading a book he just tells you to go back to reading but truth be told, you quiet his mind. Even without saying anything, your presence puts him at peace allowing his mind to rest from all the turmoil inside.

When Toji comes back from a gig it normally means you won't be leaving anytime soon and if you do, he’s standing right beside you in all his massive glory. So when he walked in you knew you needed to get away fast before he caught- 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he asked with the usual arrogant smirk on his face as he takes in the sight of you in this enticing dress (strike one). you notice the already lit blunt in his hand as the wedding cake smoke clouds fill the bathroom quickly. He stands behind you and gazes at you in the mirror as he takes a hit. You can practically hear the thoughts that fill his head as he leaves the blunt on his lips and starts to play with your ass. One hand on your back pressing and bending you into a pretty little arch for him. “ Tojiiiii please I have to meet Shoko I haven't seen her in weeks…” you beg him with pleading doe eyes and he almost immediately feels his dick twitch (strike two). “ aww yea?” he asks and you can hear the mockery in his voice already. “ you so fuckin pretty mama, Shoko needa see you all dolled up like this?” he says smoothly while practically eye fucking you. He finally tears his eyes off your plush fat ass to meet your gaze in the mirror.

His heavy vermin eyes bore into you with predatory hunger, he looked like he could eat you up and he truly was contemplating it. Especially after he got a whiff of your perfume, his absolute favorite. But he didn't think that you deserved it, oh no especially not after you tried to sneak off in this slutty ass dress without telling him.

It’s not like telling him would have changed anything though. He has no problem letting you get all dolled up before events so he could absolutely ruin you right as you leave. He just can't help himself. 

He presses himself into you not breaking eye contact “You tryna leave me already baby?” he says charmingly as he feels his eyes get heavier and heavier from the weed.  He begins to grind his fat heavy dick between your soft asscheeks slipping back and forth between them in the tight silky fabric of your dress. “ I missed you though mama..” he whispers in your ear as he pulls you up to press his larger front half into your smaller back half. He takes the blunt out his mouth to plant delicate kisses all over your neck and collarbone.  “ Toji…” you whine again “please? I’ll be a good girl and I’ll be back before it gets really late so we can watch snowfall like you like to…” (strike three, you’re out!) 

You were just so cute thinking that you would get out of this especially after you referred to yourself as a “good girl”. 

Aww, what a cutie bringing up my fav show like that… calling herself a good girl. yea imma make sure she real good fa me  He thinks to himself. 

Maybe he would’ve let you go if he wasn’t high (chances would be slim to none but better than your chances now) but how could he? He always got so affectionate and horny when he got high even though his body is way stronger than the average human male. Which is crazy because already has the sex drive of a rabbit. “Yea?” he asks pressing your whole body into the bathroom counter. His hands find purchase on your bare back as the dress was backless. He tugs on the Gucci thong (courtesy of him btw) you're wearing the fuck? his eye twitches, and all hopes of salvation are absolutely demolished as he smirks evilly but you can't even see him as he presses your head onto the counter.

Of course she tries to leave in this slutty ass outfit without me, what the hell wrong with this girl? then she got the nerve to look at me like that like my dick not already hard. She just makes this too easy for me and way harder on herself 

“Give me a lil show and maybe just MAYBE I'll have mercy on you tonight” he lies. His fingers find your hair and pull you up to look at him in the mirror. You sigh as you feel his other hand lift your dress up but honestly, you love this. You both knew he was lying but you couldn’t help but play into it. You love how he can’t get enough of you, especially in his high daze. You feel the tip of his clothed dick prod against the thin fabric barely covering your fat puffy folds. You rub your fat ass all over his heavy length feeling it get harder and harder by the second. His breathing becomes deeper as he holds the blunt in his hand. You place your hand on his bare abs. “ let me hit it” you say looking back at him straight in the eyes referring to the blunt and you feel his dick twitch under you. Yea, it’s safe to say Shoko was not seeing you tonight. 

Now that you think about it you know exactly how your slutty ass got here, standing on your tippy toes, throwing your fat ass back on your man and his hefty dick. He watches in awe, blunt trapped between his lips, lost in the waves. He loved when you did the work for him honestly, your slick warm cunny milking him for everything he’s got left, he could stay like this forever and he really wanted to. Full you up nice and full and send you on your merry way to Shoko but he knew you would be tired after he was done for you. Shit, you might even be tired now he thinks when he feels you abruptly stop.

He furrows his eyebrows as his eyes meet your tear-stained ones in the mirror and he feels his dick twitch and throb. He knows he’s a sick man, getting off to you crying from exhaustion but he truly can’t help himself. He really is a sadist at heart. Every time he feels like he can’t get harder he does. He puts out the blunt before placing both his hands on the arch of your back 

“aww my slutty baby getting tired huh? you wanna cum don’t you?” he asks lowly and you only nod in response as your legs shake. He kisses his teeth and lands a heavy smack on your ass which makes you jolt with him still inside of you “words mama, you need to use your words” he says as glares at you in the mirror. “yes daddy hmph, I wanna cum please” you beg your eyes not leaving his. “then fucking take it and make yourself cum all over this dick. Who told you to stop he fuck? You think yo lil ass in charge now?” he spits at you harshly and lands another smack on your ass as he feels you flutter around him. He knows exactly what to say to get you going. You whimper but get on your tippy toes again working towards your orgasm. “ that’s it, there you go mama. This yo dick pretty girl.” you moan loudly feeling your walls clench around him from his words. He smirks knowing that he will forever have you in his grasp by that smooth ass mouth of his. “damn baby you taking me so well… So deep too. you better make a fucking mess on this dick too. Fuckkk, look at you, already wetting it up. ” he groans lowly as he stares at where you guys connect and glare back at you in the mirror.

His gaze is tense and unwavering watching your face contort from the pleasurable pain of impaling yourself on his dick. You practically saw hearts in his eyes from the way he looked at you. You feel your face grow hot as you look away feeling embarrassed from the intimacy. As you look away you feel his big hand cup the entirety of your face and force your gaze to meet his.

You swear you can hear him say “ look at me “ but his mouth remains closed as he makes sure you understand. 

“youn wanna look at me no more?” he asks with fake sadness “I don't give a single fuck. look at me while you use my cock. I’m so deep inside you, I can feel that cervix. You’re doing that baby, You know that?” he then works his hand to your throat and grabs it to use it as leverage to press your body firmly against his. He fights the urge to take control as you continue to work yourself back onto him.” you the one that got me digging me in you like this. Such a slut taking me this deep yea? You feeling me baby?” he asks you with incredible finesse and you were in fact feeling him, digging you out due to your own doing.

Each thrust backwards being met with a delicious pleasure forming a knot building in your stomach. “ cause I'm feeling you, so warm and tight. You feel so good baby” he moans to you without shame. “ooo shitttt, I feel you baby”’ you moan loudly feeling your body give out to the sensation of being full.  “you like that huh? You like that I can feel your insides warming me up and begging me not to leave? Don’t worry my pretty girl, I'm not going anywhere and neither are you.” you moan loudly at his words feeling yourself get closer with each thrust backward. You feel your legs shake and your feet cramping as you get closer to your orgasm. “that's it, use me. Make yourself cream all over this dick and I promise imma make you squirt on it next” he all but begs you. Your eyes are torn away from him as they roll back to your head. You fuck yourself back onto him through your orgasm, creaming on him with a loud cry. 

 You genuinely cannot continue fucking him but you still need him inside you so your actions slow to a stop and he pulls himself out of you “Toji? ” you look back at the Greek god-like physique of the man behind you in desperation. He stares at your pretty pussy for a min as you whine for him. “Beg.” he says now slapping his fat cock head on your clit making you jolt. You reach your hand behind you to hold and stroke his cock, taping it on your entrance too hoping he will give in but every time you try to slide him in, he pulls away. When that doesn’t work you get frustrated resorting to the brat he knows all too well.

“Are you gonna fuck me or what? Like seriously. You already ruined my night out and god knows when I will get the chance to see the fucking sun again since you like to hold me captive for decades at a time” you say annoyed as you glare at him through the mirror. His face holds something unreadable and that should’ve been your sign to stop talking but oh what the hell, you’re already here now. You smirk maliciously as the next words leave your mouth. “Or are you just so damn high that you can’t even handle me right now? You’re such a baby. I smoked more of that blunt than you did, you fucking lightweight. You need a nap baby boy?” your words are laced with unmistaken condescendence. 

He opens the bathroom drawer next to you and grabs the candle lighter, relighting the blunt. “fucking finish this shit. I’m not fucking playing with you either, you better take everything I give you” looks you dead back in your eyes and by the tone of his voice, he has had enough of your bullshit tonight. You take it from him and follow his orders, hitting it while he fixes your arch nice and deep for him. “ and you better keep this fucking arch too because if I have to fix it for you, you won’t like it.” he grumbles angrily as he lines himself up at your entrance again. “can’t handle you right now? That weak-ass sorry-ass arch you had throwing that shit back to me, you lucky I’m in love with yo sexy ass.” he fires back at you. He was lying though, he definitely was mesmerized at the way you moved your perfect body even when he was the one so deep so deep inside you. He throws his head back and rolls his neck and you can only brace yourself for what happens next. It all happens so fast. 

Soul-crushing and spine-shattering couldn’t even describe it.

The roach of the blunt remains in your hand, your eyes roll back and your mouth stays agape in pure ecstasy as Toji fastly thrusts into you. He gives you fast, hard strokes as his girth fills you up hitting all the right places. “ Do I need a nap??? Do you know who the fuck I am?” he boasts as he drives his body into yours. Between damn near finishing that blunt and the rough treatment from Toji, you were genuinely on cloud nine.

Repetitive moans left your mouth that could only be described as lewd. He leans back and smirks looking at the mess of a brat he made. His eyes find your puckering hole and he smiles to himself. He can’t even fight off the thoughts of making you his favorite bowling ball. 

You on the other hand can’t even understand what this man is doing to you before his thumb is in your mouth. “wet this shit up fa me yea? Can you do that fa me baby?” he asks you with a saccharine tone. You are like putty in his hands, all cute and pliant for him. He watches you lustfully as you suck his thumb and spit on it heavily.  He then uses both of his hands to spread you wide for him before spitting a glob onto the tight ring of your ass. He thumbs the hole, feeling it flutter underneath his touch practically inviting him in. He grins cockily at the visual, he already knows this is your favorite trick of his. You whimper as he swirls his thumb around the hole teasing you. He knows this is just what you need to throw you over the edge. “ you want it in your butt huh?” he looks at you once again through the mirror but you can't even meet his eyes, only moaning the word yes over and over again. He decides to have mercy on you but still doesn’t spare you the hard time. He sinks his fat thumb into your asshole and almost immediately he feels you clamping down on him. 

“What a slut. You a butt slut baby?” he asks you finding your reaction too funny. Who would know his perfect girlfriend likes to have her pretty tight asshole played with. He moves his thumb around in your ass using it as a hook to fuck you deeper and you all but moan at the stimulation.  “say it, say you're my dumb butt slut” he commands.

Honestly, he doesn’t need to hear this, he just wants to see how far you gone you are and he truly finds out how lost you are when you scream about how much you love when he puts his thumb in your butt proclaiming over and over again that you are in fact his stupid butt slut. He laughs to himself while doing his finishing move. He begins to move his thumb in and out of your tight hole feeling it hold onto him while his other hand moves to your clit. He starts rubbing rapid fast circles and quickly your legs buckle beneath you being caught by the counter. 

Your feet are above ground as he fucks you harder and rougher. He’s really fucking you into the counter at this point and you are loving every single second of it. Pornographic is the only word that can describe the sounds coming from the bathroom and even that would be an understatement. Your vision becomes blotchy as he works your body. Your legs are close together and shaking while the ever-forming knot in your stomach gets ready to release. Even though Toji is really putting that work in, he’s coming close to his release as well. Your pretty slick cunt giving him a run for his money like always. He can feel you clenching tighter and tighter as he feels himself inside you through the tissue separating your pussy and ass and he almost cums right there. He can never understand how you take him so well, the visual of both your holes being stuffed forms a desire in his mind that can only be described as animalistic.

"you boutta cum baby?” He questions you a couple of seconds before your release but he already knows the answer. “ cum all on this dick so I can fill you up and you gotta stay inside with me forever.” his words through you over the edge as well as him suddenly pulling his thumb that was so deep in your ass out, making you squirt all over his hefty length in a loud shriek.

The visual of you squirting around him and your fluttering asshole makes his release find him earlier than anticipated as he shoots his hot thick ropes of cum inside you with the most guttural moans you had heard in a while. He stays inside you softening and then pulls out slowly, plugging you back up with his fingers. He needs to make sure it stays in. You moan at the overstimulation but you don't protest smiling hazily as he enjoys your fucked out expression. 

You feel him planting gentle kisses down your back praising you for taking him so well. He then pulls his fingers out bringing them to your mouth to lick, lifts your dress back down, and puts the thong back on you despite your weak shaking legs and overfilling cunt quickly leaking through the fabric of it. He leaves for a second and you look at your disheveled appearance in the mirror. Hair and makeup all fucked up. He comes back into your field of vision holding car keys. 

“ I’ll drop you off at Shoko’s place c'mon” he smirks admiring his work.

He knew damn well… 

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH🦅

[unnaturalequilibrium]

Capítulo 5

- Mafin rewatch (Sueños de Libertad)

Isidro is possibly the father of the year. Maybe I’ll change my mind when it turns out he’s kind of homophobic, but for now that man gives some seriously good advice. I get why Fina is the way she is, oh not the mood thing, but the stability, the self-assurance. When you have someone holding you up like Isidro does, giving advice like he does, about how the best approach is to find the good sides in yourself and commit to those - I mean, yeah, it’s not hard to understand he could raise a daughter like Fina. It’s also such a nice contrast with the next scene which is the de la Reina’s sitting down for a meal and it’s just the absolute opposite. They too talk about work, but there’s no emotion and there’s no support, it’s more like open hunting season and holds none of the open vulnerability and sincerity of Fina and Isidro's conversation.

Aw man, fuck up my heart with that look Marta gives when Damian talks about how nothing makes him happier than having his kids get married and start families. All that effort she puts in and still she can’t truly make her father proud. That shit is got to sit lodged in her heart like a very jagged piece of broken glass. Also, I think this is the first glimpse of a personality hiding behind the mask.

Jesús and Andrés are two stupid boys fighting over what they think of as toys, women. I do not care for them.

Marta is a sarcastic bitch to Elena and I approve. Okay, second glimpse of a personality, nice. Broken and sarcastic, playing my tune.

That thing Spanish people do with their tongue between their teeth as they pronounce certain sounds, is it just me being gay or is it kind of hot? Granted it’s mostly Marta who is hot when she’s doing it, so I might have answered my own question.

Petra, stop fucking touching Fina! It is not your right to be that handsy and I do not care for it. Keep your scruffy looking nerf-herding paws off of her!

Fina established as a clumsy queen from the getgo tickles me. The way she practically smashed that perfume bottle through the counter as she tried to make a good impression on Marta (and failing) gives her the kind of humanity my otherwise perfect lesbian needs to be nuanced. No one likes a perfect being who looks like her, smiles like her, has that self-assuredness of hers, unless there is also some flaw too her. The fact that this is a character who is so perfect in many ways, but at the same time could probably tear down an entire china shop on her own without the assistance of any bulls - it makes her really loveable. And as a woman who have broken her toe by kicking it into a threshold and given herself a black eye by walking into a doorframe, well I feel represented. Oh, don't get me wrong, there are more flaws to Fina than this, but we're not there yet. One step at a time.

The face of a woman who does not understand the power she holds over other women. And I don't just mean that as a crack at her being lesbian catnip, but the character doesn't actually understand the impact she has on the women around her. She's so used to being compared to the men in her life that I think she doesn't see or understand what a role model she has become for a lot of women, especially those working for her.

Fina being so dismissive when Carmen tells them she’s crying because of Tasio is gold. She just has no time for these fools and I love it. Her silent nod when Carmen says “why bother with a man who doesn’t love you back” - perfection. She is the Oprah gif personified. As I regularly channel my inner Xena while I’m in a professional setting, I think from now on I’ll also try to be channelling my inner Fina when it comes to my personal relationships. As blunt, but reassuring as she is, I think we should all strive to me more like her with our friends and family.

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

blorbos are how we are coping with current events

so uh. here’s a few nice lighthearted gravity falls headcanons for you all (and yes there is a lot of ford centric ones here. no negativity about him on this post, please. preferably not about anyone else featured here either)

-both stan twins are trans. shermie was the first one they told about this, and he’s been immensely supportive of them. he started referring to them as ‘boys’ whenever he could, especially when filbrick was around (‘you boys ready?’ and stuff like that). even though the twins haven’t seen him in a while, and his relationship with ford is a little strained, they both still feel safe around him

-shermie’s daughter, the mother of the mystery twins, is transmascfem. they’ve always been much closer to her than to their father. it was her idea to get a cat, and she let the niblings pick it out. they collectively named it ‘smoky’

-both mystery twins are trans as well. as soon as he knew, stan made damn sure they were aware of his support for them. mabel told ford she was trans before dipper did, and he made sure they both knew he would support them as well

-the stan twins get a ship cat with polydactyl and name him icarus. he was supposed to work as pest control, but ford babied him too much so now he’s just there for emotional support

-upon figuring out how cellphones work, ford took an immense liking to the camera function. he frequently sends stan and the niblings pictures of anomalies, animals, or just cool stuff he finds

-stan keeps his cool when being insulted, but absolutely cannot stand it when the same happens to his family. type of guy to go ‘ok’ when you tell him he sucks, and then turn around and threaten to murder you when you say the same to ford or the niblings

-gideon is an exception. gideon crossed the line with mabel and now stan can’t help but get irrationally angry every time he sees or hears him

-ford isn’t as good at math as people tend to thinks he is, and he is. so anxious about someone finding that out

-ford has maladaptive daydreaming disorder, and so does mabel

-ford initially bought the painting in the attic of a ship in a storm because it reminded him of stan

-melody and soos got a tabby cat and named it metronome. soos chose the name because it was similar in theme to ‘melody’ and cause he thought it sounded cool. melody calls the cat ‘bloop’ and at this point it probably thinks that’s its actual name

-mabel uses exclusively edible glitter due to all the pets in her life (waddles, smoky, icarus, metronome)

-mabel helps pacifica realize that she’s transmascfemneu. this makes pacifica think about things a lot, and eventually she ends up in a qpr with mabel (featuring candy and grenda as wingmen)

-wendy is bigender and enby

-ford nearly cried the first time stan made pancakes after the portal

-it’s become a running bit to call ford anything but his name and at this point he’s just given up on correcting people and chosen to embrace it

-robbie’s first name is actually robin. his friends started calling him robbie when he came out as trans and the name just stuck. he’s still very attached to ‘robin’ though and has no problem being called that as well

-stan repaired his old winter jacket, though he doesn’t wear it any more. ford sometimes does

-because stan runs hot and ford runs very cold, ford has a tendency to come up to stan and hug him under his coat. stan is fine with this, despite his grumblings about ford just doing it to steal some warmth

-ford experiences cuteness aggression to the max, while stan really doesn’t at all. icarus has experienced both threats of being eaten/crushed and ford screaming into his fluff

-icarus has separation anxiety with ford

-stan doodles on ford a lot. the only rule is nothing on his face and do NOT touch the neck tattoo (destroyed as it may be from weirdmaggedon). yes, stanley, the all-star one. get that smug smile off your face- stop laughing-!

-ford’s sleep schedule has significantly improved since getting icarus. this is mostly because he sometimes falls asleep while waiting for icarus to move off his lap (can’t move til the cat does, y’know how it is)

-stan loves loves LOVES sunny cloudy days. they remind him of running across the beach with his brother, and watching the niblings throw water balloons at each other, and hearing his twin laugh as he tells jokes on the stan o’ war ii

-stan had ford custom engrave his lighter. he thinks it looks cool as shit

-ford has made several smoke bombs for stan. he has no clue what he keeps using them for, but he likes building things, so he doesn’t mind

-mabel has set up three music playlists for the stans. one only for ford, one only for stan, and one that’s visible to both where they can both add music

-mabel introduced ford to breakcore and noisecore. she was very surprised that he liked the two genres

-ford is agender and anattractional

-stan’s favorite smells are cinnamon, bergamot, and saltwater

-stan made sure to always have supplies to make brownies and hot chocolate on the ship in case of them need some mood lifting

-ford has a plaid weighted blanket. the cat laying on top of him every night also helps

-ford made sure stan got a good mattress that would work with his back before they set sail. stan argued with him the entire time, but he has been waking up in less pain since then

-ford always ends up hogging the blankets in any bed. more cover = better in his unconscious mind. stan doesn’t really mind too much, but he would like to keep at least one blanket some time

-ford makes a startlingly good seagull impression

[blackenedsnow]

Love your writing so bad like I wanna rq this cause It's so fun seeing how you write for every dude even the postal movie dude he is my cutiepie i swear /real

How would the dudes react being showered with kisses by their s/o then realizing they are covered in lipstick marks? cause these boys need sum kisses

the dudes being showered in kisses by their s/o ; headcanons

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Postal (1) Dude x Reader, Postal (2) Dude x Reader, Postal (3) Dude x Reader, Postal (4) Dude x Reader, Postal (BD) Dude x Reader, Postal (Movie) Dude x Reader

NOTE: I had so much fun writing these, and I’m thrilled you enjoy my take on each Dude! Enjoy!!

P1 DUDE

It’s the first time in a long while that he actually stops to live in the moment.

As your kisses cover his face, he’s initially tense, unsure of how to respond.

He stands rigid, clearly unused to affection of any kind.

But as you press more kisses to his cheek, forehead, and nose, he can’t help but soften a little.

When he finally pulls back and realizes he’s covered in lipstick marks, he’s… dumbfounded.

He stares at himself in the mirror, almost as if he can’t believe someone would willingly mark him with so much love.

“You… really like me, huh?”

he mumbles, almost as if he’s talking to himself.

You can tell he’s trying to process the warmth, the affection, and the idea that someone cares this much about him.

P2 DUDE

He’s already smirking as you start covering his face in lipstick marks, raising an eyebrow as if to say, Oh, really?

But he lets you keep going, his grin only growing as he playfully rolls his eyes and leans into each kiss, clearly enjoying the attention.

When he finally pulls back and checks himself out in the mirror, he laughs, reaching up to touch one of the lipstick marks on his jaw.

“Well, look at me—real killer, aren’t I?”

he jokes, half-proud and half-amused at the evidence of your affection.

“Guess I’m just too damn irresistible, huh?”

he says, throwing an arm around you with a smirk.

But there’s a genuine warmth to him underneath the teasing, and he’ll find little ways to keep the affection going, maybe pulling you in for a surprise kiss or making playful remarks all day.

P3 DUDE

He laughs when you start showering him with kisses, clearly flustered but trying to play it off.

“Whoa there, sweetheart, didn’t know you were this eager!”

When he realizes he’s covered in lipstick marks, he’s totally stunned.

He blinks a few times, then looks at you with a huge grin.

“Oh, hell yeah. Look at me, covered in love.”

He’s definitely the type to wear it with pride.

He might even show off to random strangers, pointing to a lipstick mark on his neck.

“See that? That’s from my babe. Lucky, huh?”

P4 DUDE

He raises an eyebrow when you start showering him in kisses, giving a dry chuckle.

“What’s this? Trying to leave me lookin’ like a clown?”

But when he sees the lipstick marks, there’s a faint blush on his cheeks.

He looks at himself, then back at you, a small smile breaking through his usual deadpan expression.

“Alright, I admit it… you got me.”

He keeps grumbling about it, but you can tell he’s secretly pleased.

He doesn’t wipe a single mark off, and later, he catches his reflection and lets out a quiet, affectionate sigh.

“Guess even a guy like me can get lucky.”

He gives you a playful nudge, muttering something about how he’ll get you back for all the ‘paint,’ but his smile says otherwise.

BD DUDE

He’s half-asleep, eyes barely open, lying in bed when you start covering his face with kisses, one after the other.

At first, he doesn’t even register it, thinking maybe he’s dreaming.

But the more you kiss him, the more he starts to mumble and groan, shifting just enough to get a better feel of your touch.

His reaction is hazy at first, a mumbled,

“Mmph… ‘s nice…”

as he melts under the attention, a sleepy smile crossing his face.

As he slowly blinks awake, he touches his cheek and feels the smudge of lipstick, finally noticing all the marks.

When he realizes you’ve covered him in kisses, he raises an eyebrow with a lopsided smirk, rubbing his jaw like he’s trying to remember how he got so lucky.

“Hey,… how come you’re givin’ me all this,?”

he mutters, still half-asleep but looking at you with appreciation in his eyes.

He’ll go right back to lying there, patting the spot next to him, only half-caring about all the marks.

“C’mon, don’t stop… feels pretty damn nice.”

He doesn’t care if he ends up a mess of lipstick smudges and soft bites because all that matters to him is that you’re the one who put them there.

He even playfully pulls you in closer to keep the kisses going, mumbling how he totally doesn’t mind being your canvas if it means waking up to more mornings like this.

MOVIE DUDE

He’s surprised, his eyes going wide as he registers your kisses peppering every part of his face.

His first reaction is a surprised laugh, not used to being shown so much affection so freely.

The sweetness catches him off-guard in the best way.

When he finally pulls back, he looks at you with that boyish grin, touching his cheek and noticing all the lipstick marks you left behind.

He’s more amused than anything, his hands still holding your face as he shakes his head a little.

��Wow, I’m like... a work of art here. You sure you’re not just tryin’ to show me off?”

he teases, touching the marks on his cheeks and forehead with a growing grin.

He lightly traces the ones on his neck, feeling a warm rush but enjoying it.

“Not that I mind...hah”

He’s gentle, practically glowing with happiness as he pulls you close again.

He’s not embarrassed about walking around with all the marks on his face—if anything, he takes it as a proud badge of honor, evidence of how loved he feels.

[bluestsdays]

devon can’t stop the memories that flood her mind as they stand here together, in a home that was once theirs. can’t help but remember how it felt to come home with him after a long night out, tired and far too drunk, his arms wrapped around her as their laughter bounced off the walls, stumbling to their room to help each other carefully peel their clothes off before sliding comfortably into bed, falling asleep in each other’s arms. or how they would make breakfast together on slow weekend mornings, drinking coffee in bed and spilling half of it on the sheets, or evenings spent listening to him read to her, staying up too late talking about anything and everything. maybe that’s why she couldn’t fathom leaving this place, despite his absence— so much good happened here. there was so much love embedded in these walls, in each creak of the floorboards, in every piece of furniture they picked out together. and now she could almost trick herself into believing they had gone back in time, that this was just another one of those nights, where she could just lead him to their bedroom, kissing all the way there, but it wasn’t. or at least, it shouldn’t be. despite how her lips tingle to kiss him again and again, she knows they’ve already crossed a line. but hearing him echo just how much he missed her, too, blurs it even further in her mind. that always happened with him, didn’t it ? he was the exception to every rule, the only person she would do absolutely anything for, if he asked, no matter the consequences. it’s intoxicating, being this close, kissing him, touching him, feeling the warmth of his body against her own one more time. even if he wasn’t technically hers anymore, god, was she so fucking lucky to have him at all. remains close as she smiles up at him, pressing a soft peck to his cheek, lingering there for a moment. “ feels real to me, too, ” she whispers, so real that it’s almost visceral— her senses were overrun, her brain filled only with thoughts of them and the life they once shared, her heart overwhelmed with love and care. and it’s enough, just being here with him like this, but she can’t ignore that desire for more, even though she’s desperately trying to shove it down, to remind herself that there had to be some sort of boundary, that there were two other people to think about. it’s hard, though, when he’s kissing her, or looking at her like that, or when he reaches down to intertwine their fingers together so easily. fuck. “ me too. i've almost called you so many times, ” it’s followed with a squeeze of his hand, then, as her nose nudges against his own, tempted to close the gap and kiss him again, but she tries to hold onto any shred of self control she has left, just for good measure. even then, she doesn’t pull away. “ do you want to ? talk, i mean, ” she breathes, voice coarse. “ because we can. we should, probably, ” the words are a little shakier, now, as her free hand slides up to rest against his chest, curling against the material of his shirt as she leans in closer, lips skating against his. “ because i… i’m afraid that if i keep kissing you, i won’t be able to stop, and i’ll do something really fucking stupid, that i know i shouldn’t but that i can’t help because it’s you. ” — “ does that make me a terrible person, you think ? ”

even when things were different between them, when things weren’t laced with uncertainty and misunderstanding, miller was never quite able to grasp the inexplainable connection they shared, the power she had over him. and if he couldn’t explain it then, he definitely can’t now, as he finds himself wrapped up in her, kissing her in the familiar way that he does, the outside world fading to a quiet blur, when they’re in each other’s embraces. despite its openness, the display of love itself, it’s an intimate act between them, as if they’re the only two in existence, right now. he doesn’t shy away from it, from her, like he has done with someone else; uncaring as to who witnesses such a grand public display of affection. the world moving around them slowly comes back, as they part, lips buzzing, heart racing, hands shaking. he tucks them away, as he follows her to the front door, as if he could quell that need, desire. not for anything further, but just to… do that again, and again. until they’ve both run out of air and they’re turning blue in the face. god, how has he ever gone so long without something like that? because it’s love, he understands now, that still circulates between them, bringing them together again and again— how could he be so stupid, to try and convince himself that he could survive without it? heart beats a steady pattern in his chest, echoing in the cage of his ribs, as she unlocks the door, taken back in time to when this was their normal routine. when he would stand behind her, distracting as always, lips pressed to her neck or shoulders, his laughter against her skin, fingers against her waist, her hip. despite how much he may want to do that, now, he forces himself to hold back, as if to not overstep, to maintain some resemblance of a boundary, after what they’d just shared outside. that all goes out the window once they’re past the threshold of the door, his arms wrapping around her waist once she’s back against him. “ missed you, ” he echos back. “ so fucking much. ” and it’s one of his most vulnerable confessions of all, thinking back to those nights he’s spent alone, thoughts drifting to her, to wishing that she could be here with him. he transmits that into the kiss they share, here, in the apartment they used to share— the walls whispering memories of laughter, of tears, of late night conversations, early morning goodbyes before they went about their day. it’s dirty coffee mugs in the sink, and books against the wall, paint splattered on the floorboards. it’s the two of them sharing a breath, a life, a home. and it’s still present, in the kiss they share, in the smile chiseled into his features as they part for air, a quiet chuckle departing his lips. “ no, well… i also wanted to see what you’ve done with the place, ” he teases, gaze of endearment, as he looks down at her, lips tingling for more. “ i hope this is real, though. that it isn’t a dream— it feels real to me, ” but then again, she always has. and he can’t accept the alternative; that he was halfway across the country, merely thinking of her, dreaming of her, of this, of the love that still clearly flowed between them, held them together. “ but, i… i don’t have any expectations, coming up here, you know? ” he wants to clarify. “ i mean, we can just talk, if you want, ” somehow, that feels like it exposes a lot, how it’s an absent piece of the puzzle in his life. disguising it with a soft chuckle, he allows his hand to find her own, intertwining their fingers. “ i’ve really missed talking to you. ”

[strwberri-milk]

Songs of Sorrow - Ch. 15

Rancher!AU || Boothill x Fem!Reader || Slowburn, Drama

You wake up in soft sheets, feeling significantly dryer and cleaner than you know you should. You start to sit up, startled by the feeling of an arm on your hip pulling you back in. You make to scream, fully intending to escape when you realise that it’s Boothill laying with you, shirtless. Now you want to scream for a different reason, body warm with a blush. 

“You’re finally awake. Good. Now stay in bed until I can be sure your temperature is regular. I had to wrestle you out of your clothes and then into bed.” 

You peer down and sure enough you’re wearing different clothes than the one you left in, slowly realising that he had fully stripped you down. You cover your body as though that’d change anything, Boothill’s face reddening a little as he turns his face away from you. 

“I didn’t stare or nothin’. I just didn’t want your symptoms to get worse by being left in cold clothes. I couldn’t wash you proper either - you can take a bath when you’re feelin’ better. I just got a lukewarm towel to wash the grime off your body so you could be a little more comfortable in bed.” 

His explanation speeds up at the end and you get the sense that he’s trying to justify his actions towards you. You trust him, thankfully, but that still doesn’t explain why he’s in bed with you. 

“Then this is part of my treatment?” you ask him, pointing between the two of you. 

“Body heat is a good source of heat. I’m sweatin’ my balls off but if that means your body is gettin’ warmer that’s all that matters,” he laughs.  

You shift around curiously, glad to brush up against the loose flannel of his pyjama pants. Without thinking you brush up against him closer, just chasing his warmth. He wraps his arms around your waist as you come closer to him. Your leg wraps around his, brushing back his bangs as you admire his face up close.

Out of the corner of your eye you see a beautiful bouquet sitting on your bedside table. He watches the path your eyes take, smiling tenderly at you as you admire the petals from your spot on the bed. You feel his hand rest on your hip, offering you a soft look. 

“I gotcha some flowers,” he says quietly. “To make up for the fact that I was never able to give them to you the last night of your show.” 

“You didn’t have to do all of that,” you say quietly, resting your hand on his cheek. 

“You’re the one clinging to me right now,” he says just as softly, trying not to show you how much your touch is affecting him. 

“I've told you so many times by now. It doesn’t matter what you’re trying to tell me that I don’t need to, or that you didn’t want me to save you - I mean it when I say I’m going to protect you.” 

“But why?” you continue to insist. 

“I have money on my head and you don’t really benefit from having me live with you. If anything, all I do is put you in danger.”

“And if I didn’t care about you then you would have been turned in a long time ago.”

The words hang between the two of you, your eyes widening a little. You want to believe that he means those words in a way that makes your heart flutter. He’s always been affectionate with you so there’s no reason to think of this any differently, shaking your head as you start to turn to face away from him. 

“BoothilL, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, really. You deserve better than this. Far better than someone coming in here, taking advantage of your kindness then making you risk hypothermia by running from you.”

He laughs again, shaking his head as his eyes begin to trail the lines of your face. You hold your breath as his knuckle begins to trace the path his eyes took, pausing in your movements. 

“You think I deserve better? Well…that’s a first for me.” 

His smile fades a little. 

“I dunno if I’ll ever find better. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the only thing I could ever want.”

You feel the bed shift as he slowly pulls you under him. Your hands go to rest against his chest, staring up at him breathlessly as his hand slips under your neck to cradle your head. Again, his eyes do that thing where they stare at you as though you’re the most precious thing in his world and your heart tries to tell you that there’s truth in the sweet names he calls you. 

He leans down to you, noses gently brushing as his eyes drift down to your lips. 

“I’ve never really wanted anything for the last little while. Tends to happen when you lose everything you care about in an instant.”

“Boothill I -” 

“Hush pretty. Just let me think about what I’m tryna tell you. I’m not any good with words.” 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, messing with the hair on the nape of his neck. It seems to disarm him in some way, his muscles relaxing with your touch. He still seems more focused on your lips than anything else, gasping softly when your lips part wordlessly. 

A quick look of deliberation crosses his face before he presses his lips to yours. They’re rough, strong, just like him but the press of them is so gentle it makes your mind spin. You make a soft noise of surprise when he pulls back far too quickly. His touch sends chills through your body, every cell in your body tuned to him.

“I know I ain’t nothin’ but an ex-convict who shouldn’t even be dirtyin’ your hands with me but just know I’d give you everything if you just gave me the chance,” he says softly, pressing your foreheads together. 

“Boothill, what are you saying?” 

You can’t imagine Boothill being a criminal on the run, that confession somehow sidelining the very real confession of his feelings that he gave you. Somehow, he picks up on the fact that that’s what you’re referring to, sitting up a little to create distance between you two. 

“I’m not a good person,” he says softly. 

“I was a bounty hunter. A damn good one at that. Was the only way I knew to make money after an accident took out…everything.” 

You bite back the question burning on the tip of your tongue, knowing that prying too much into his past might scare him off and you’d hate to lose him now that you’ve got him so close. 

“You’re the one who deserves so much better than me. I don’t…I shouldn’t even be touching you like this.”

He starts to climb off of you. You start to panic, realising that you might actually lose him if you don’t make a move. Your arms wrap around his shoulders again, tugging him back down close enough for your breaths to intermingle.

“No…wait…I’m still cold.”

Your hands cup his cheeks as you lean in to kiss him harder. His hands come back to your body, holding your hips in place as he comes back to straddle you. The weight of his body is so comforting to you, feeling your core light up as he warms you up with the heat of his passion. 

“Wait, darlin’, shouldn’t we slow down?” he asks breathlessly, desperation in his eyes despite his words. 

“Why would we? You told me you were lying here to warm me up. I’m simply asking you for more of your medical attention,” you mutter, winding your fingers through his hair as you pull him back down for a needy kiss. 

His hands are gentle as they begin to roam your body, tentatively mapping out the contours of your shape. You’re forced to pull back from the lack of air, biting your lip as Boothill starts to trail his kisses down your lips to your chest. Your mind starts to spin as he showers you in attention, body heating up. You don’t even feel the chill of the air anymore now that you’re quickly being buried by the weight of his body. 

“I mean it darlin’,” he says again, a pleading look in his eyes despite the fact that he’s trying to stop himself. 

“You shouldn’t…we…I mean…do you really want this?”

“Am I not supposed to?” you ask quietly, teasing the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I want you. However that looks to you, I want it. Please.”

Your voice cracks on the last word, not realising until right now how badly you needed him. You think your desire pales his in comparison as you whimper for his attention, pulling him back down to kiss him again. His hands start to trail up your shirt, large palms gently ghosting over your chest as his thumbs gently brush against your nipples. It makes you gasp sharply, biting his lip in surprise from the sensation. 

“You’re so sensitive,” he laughs against your lips, looking at you darkly. 

“Are you gonna make sweet noises like that the entire time? How am I gonna hold myself from destroying you?” 

“Maybe don’t hold back then,” you sigh, arching into his chest as he continues to tease your nipples with the rough pads of his thumb.

“What if…I want you to ruin me?” 

A low moan slips past your lips as he brings his hand down to cup you. You buck against his hand, clit hitting against the heel of his palm. The teasing sensation makes you clench slightly over nothing. His finger teases against your slit, running along your pussy. 

“You can’t say somethin’ like that. It’ll really get me goin’.” 

He continues to kiss you dumb as his fingers continue to tease you. Instinctively, you spread your legs to accommodate his body. It makes it easier for him to rub against you, hips bucking against his palm as he slowly slips his fingers inside of you. The moan that you give him is music to his ears, Boothill’s heart pounding in his chest. 

His fingers move sensually against you, each stroke drawing out another sweet noise of pleasure. He’s surprisingly gentler than you expected him to be, trying to focus on the way he looks at you but inadvertently giving him the most adorable blissed out look. Nothing he conjured up in his imagination could top this and he’s doing his best to restrain the urge to just hold you in place and have his way with you. 

You can feel the insistent press of his cock against your thigh, mind running wild as you imagine what it’d feel like to have him inside of you. He shudders lowly as you move against him, writhing as he feels your wetness start to coat his fingers. Your breath comes in short gasps, Boothill nuzzling against your throat as he gently coos at you. 

“You’re close, huh? Just keep goin’ doll - let go for me, I know you want to.” 

Your nails dig lightly into his shoulders as your hips continue to buck into him, moaning his name softly as your orgasm slowly washes over you. He looks up at you from his spot against your neck, gently bringing his kisses back up to your lips as he steals the breath out of your lungs. You feel him push your shorts off of you, laughing softly. 

“I thought I needed to stay warm. What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly, shuddering a little at the chill in the room against your bare skin. 

“Making you warm,” he growls before pressing a hungry kiss against your throat.  

You feel him lift your thighs to rest against his waist, pulling his pants down just enough to let his cock slap against his stomach. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, drops of precum sliding down the flushed tip as he leans over your body once again. He takes your hands in his, pinning them on the pillow over your head as he grinds lightly against you. 

“One more time. You’re okay with all of this, right?” he asks gently, slowly bringing his hand back down to guide his cock against your slit. 

You nod eagerly, bringing your free hand against his hip to press him further against you. He laughs at the action, brushing your noses together as he slides inside of you. The gasp you reward him with makes his cock twitch, watching your reaction carefully as he brings your hand back up to join the other. 

You squeeze his hands tightly as the press of him inside of you makes you melt. Just the tip feels like a little too much, eyes screwing shut in a pleasurable haze. You’re about to say something when he kisses you gently. It makes your heart burst and distracts you just enough for the next gentle rock of his hips to press him fully inside of you. He slowly bottoms out, slotting your hips together and gauging your pleasure by how tightly you squeeze his hands. 

“Oh God, Boothill,” you mutter under your breath when he reaches your pelvis, throwing your head back as he starts to slowly rock against you. 

“You’re beautiful like this,” he says dazedly, focused on the way you feel pulsing around his cock. 

“Don’t say stuff like that it’ll make me-” 

Your words are cut off as he picks up his pace, already having felt the way you clenched again at the sweet comment he gave you. You’re not ready for him to lean down against you, mouth right up against your ear as he starts to whisper sweet nothings. 

They all go straight to your core, feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter around him as his cock hits all the right spots inside of you. Your eyes screw shut as you continue to whimper and moan his name, your noises drowned out by the slightly rougher pace he starts to take. 

“I’m sorry my love. I just - I can’t hold back anymore,” he grunts, letting go of your hands to bring them down to your hips. 

He holds you in place as his pace has you seeing stars, letting your nails dig down the expanse of his broad back as you feel another climax beginning to crest. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist as you call out for him one final time. The feeling of your orgasm has Boothill cumming as well, pulling out as he spills against your stomach with quick jerks of his hand to the sight of your writhing. 

You stare up at him, face warm with arousal and satisfaction as you catch your breath. He stares down at you looking equally as devoted as he presses his hand against your forehead. 

“Well if that doesn’t make you warm enough I don’t know what else to do.”

[petrichormore]

I’m too lazy to analyze it someone do it for me but that part in the convo q!Bad had with q!Baghera where she says something like “The workers could have a family, they could be someone else’s egg” and q!Bad responds with “yeah I thought about it, that’s when I stopped uh…”

because that seems very important to me. it seems like a confirmation of the fact that q!Bad saw these workers as mindless drones and Walter Bob as an outlier, an mistake on the federation’s part. And then when Ron essentially confirmed that it wasn’t, that they all have feelings, he stopped.

Stopped what? Stopped seeing workers as nothing but extensions of the federation? Stopped psychologically torturing Ron? Stopped keeping him in a damp cage? Stopped resisting the urge to care?

Stopped what? No matter which option you pick, you learn that q!Bad thought about the workers in a certain light, learned information that potentially severely contradicted his belief, and then reflected and adjusted his own behavior accordingly. If the “that’s when I stopped…” was about to end in “torturing him” that feels like a huge… something… about q!Bad and his supposedly “unhinged” nature.

There are a couple natural conclusions to that sentence, almost all of them make q!Bad seem a lot more… something… than I’d originally given him credit for.

[pub-lius]

my biggest problem with a people’s history of the french revolution by eric hazan is that he keeps like. implying that lafayette defected to the enemy (meaning Austria and Prussia), but like. mf was immediately arrested bc he was seen as the cause of the revolution. the only people who saw him as a conservative were in france

[evermoreal]

price would be strangely possessive over his assistant.

referring to her as things that really aren’t work appropriate at all. “swee’eart,” “dolly,” “sugar.” once, a “baby” slipped through his teeth, but he was switching the subject before she could really catch on.

it’s hard to pinpoint exactly when it was he started tacking “my” in front of his pet names. “my angel,” “my love.”

even when she wasn’t in the room — it was impossible to know he was talking about a colleague with the way he spoke about her. “my woman’s always on my case abou’ shit like that — cholesterol levels, sugar intake. fuckin’ bullshit, but i do it to make ‘er happy.” or “can’t stay long, lads — got my lady waitin’ on me.”

in the summer months, her skirts get a bit shorter and her tops a bit tighter. he doesn’t blame her, the AC is shit and the heat can be suffocating. what does bother him, though, is the way his men ogle her as they stroll past her desk. how they’re coming up with excuses to visit her throughout the day.

it’s an easy enough fix. “why don’t ye come work in my office for the day, lovey?” he’s already collecting her paperwork. “keep an old man company, would ye? i’ve got a nice little fan too, keep ye nice an’ cool.”

though the job came with benefits, perhaps more than an assistant should be getting, price didn’t think it was enough. when her phone started to slow and the screen cracked, he left a new one on her desk. didn’t bother mentioning it came out of his paycheque. if she complains about her outfit — all my good clothes are in the wash — he’ll take her shopping, doesn’t let her worry about the totals. and, hey, if they end up at a lingerie shop, no one has to know, right? he’s just being a good boss. it’s only crossing a few boundaries when he gets her to model it for him in the fitting rooms. when she disappears behind the curtain, john adjusts himself in his slacks — it’s a natural reaction. on that note, it would make too much of a fuss if he were to correct the worker when she asks if his wife needs any help.

when day turns to night and she’s refusing price’s suggestion of hitting another shop, he pulls into a nearby restaurant, insists on treating her to a glass of wine to end the night. finding out she’s a lightweight is a pleasant discovery — two glasses in and her skin is warm to the touch, she’s giggling and hanging onto his every word. he likes her like this, he decides — but it’s not safe to leave her alone. no, she should stay with him tonight. another few sips and she’s agreeing, changing into one of her new lingerie sets and falling into john’s bed, dozing off with his hand splayed over her tummy, beard tickling the back of her neck.

it’s been too long since he’s had a woman in his life. his wires have gotten a bit crossed. you can’t blame him, can you?

edit! here’s more <3

[intcrastra]

Love the idea of the little wings at Robin’s waist and head fluttering whenever she’s flustered.

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

i'm down on my knees, i wanna take you there

summary: you are suiting up for your first mission, the only problem being everyone "forgot" (intentionally withheld) this information from Logan wc: 2.3k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your support about my other Logan fic!! I am really enjoying writing for him, and have a few ideas for this Logan as well as some for Worst!Wolverine aka Deadpool 3!Logan as well! More info about empath!reader's powers and her role at the school in this one <3 warnings: slight (incredibly) slight angst, protective!Logan, a bit of a hurt comfort vibe, Ororo, Scott and Jean are meddlers this is the previous fic with these two, not required reading at all, though!

The leather was cool and surprisingly soft against your skin. There had never been reason for you to have to accompany a mission requiring one of the suits before, and you were shocked at how comfortable the uniform was. Typically, when you were asked to help with a mission, you were there for intel. Scope the place out, get a read on the general vibe of the place. Your powers didn’t provide the same level of protection as laser eyes or a strong regenerative healing factor. You would typically arrive with Rogue, in clothes from your own closet and one of the least fancy cars from the garage. You would slip in, get your read, and get out. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help, you just lacked the training that the other members of the team had. And after all, someone had to stay back to mind things at the school. When Charles had approached you a few months ago about some possible applications for your mutation that would come in handy on missions, you’d been hesitant. It was so outside of your comfort zone to load yourself onto a jet that you’d never even considered the possibility. You were far more comfortable in the library where you held English classes for the students, or helping Charles keep students calm while exploring their powers. Neither scenario included the possibility of a lot of violence. 

Ororo helped you finish zipping yourself into the suit, smoothing her hands along the sleeves before giving you a final nod of approval. Jean and Scott granted you small smiles and you did your best to look as confident as you knew they felt. 

They’d promised it was a simple mission, the kind they usually took students on when Charles felt they were ready to join the team, if that’s what they decided to do after wrapping up their schooling. Charles had heard word of a young mutant who had some kind of telekinetic powers and had recently had an eruption while at school. Everyone agreed that it would be best to find them and convince them to return to the school for some training with as little force as possible, only expedited by the fact that Charles had found them hungry and afraid after running away from home using Cerebro. In the past, the kids had been resistant due to huge amounts of fear, causing them to lash out. You knew they were right that your powers would be useful at times like these, and if you were able to help in any way you were inclined to. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing to her?” You sighed. It wasn’t that you were all conspiring to keep this a secret from Logan. It wasn’t a discussion that you’d had to agree on group espionage. It just seemed that all of you had a sort of understanding that it might be better to ask forgiveness rather than permission. Not that you needed permission. 

Logan looked furious, and what’s worse, he felt furious. You and Charles had been working to extend your powers over further distances, no longer needing to touch someone directly to know how they feel. Though it certainly doesn’t hurt matters. You’d sensed him upstairs, seemingly pacing around and seething. You’d hoped one of the kids had gotten on his nerves, or something on tv had set him off. You could see that was foolish now. 

“We aren’t doing anything to her,” Scott had his visor on, blocking his eyes from view, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was rolling his eyes. “She’s chosen to accompany us on a mission.” 

“A small mission!” Ororo chimed in, doing her best to give Logan a reassuring smile. 

You checked back in with his aura. Still furious. But it was a nice try, you supposed. Logan’s hackles were raised, his chest heaving. This certainly wouldn’t do. “Can I have a moment with you,” you glanced around the room, briefly meeting the other three mutant’s eyes. “Alone?” 

Logan was still staring daggers at Scott. He wasn’t even the one who suggested you were ready to come along. Jean and Charles had approached you this morning. You laid a hand against his arm, hoping to lead him out of the room, but he flinched away. The pang in your heart was immediate. Did he really think you were so callous that you would ever use your powers without his express permission, or some kind of emergency. You could feel the tears starting to gather in the corner of your eye, your arms wrapping protectively around your midsection. 

Jean slipped one arm through Scott’s and took Ororo’s hand with her other, gently leading them out of the room. “We are going to check a few things with the jet, last minute.” She began to hustle them out of the room. “Call if you need anything!” 

The door shut firmly behind them, and you were left alone with Logan, who looked like he was going to start shaking. “I wasn’t going to-”

“You don’t think I know that?” You can’t help but recoil. You have never been afraid of Logan, even when it may have been in your best judgement to be wary, and you still aren’t. But you can’t deny that it hurts when he snaps at you. Especially when you thought, well. You thought you were growing close. You started to turn away, but before you could, a warm hand caught ahold of your arm. “I’m not… fuck.” He took a heaving breath, shaking his head as if he could clear whatever thoughts were bothering him. “I’m not mad.” 

Despite the serious energy of the conversation, you couldn’t help the incredulous look you shot his way. He tried his best to hide it, but you could see the corner of his mouth turning up at you. “Fine, I’m not mad at you.” 

“You know, you really can’t be mad at anyone, they were just doing-” you were cut off when you fell Logan’s hand traveling down your arm, and pushing your sleeve up gently from where it was covering your hand. He slipped his hand into yours and you felt yourself relax a bit. “Just, take a look, yeah?” 

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“I trust you, bub.” You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but all you found was trust. Complete and utter trust. You nodded, tightening your own grip on his hand. Doing your best not to let the gentle rub of his thumb against your knuckles distract you, you took a deep breath and opened yourself up to his feelings. 

At first you did feel anger, bright red and hot. You sifted past it, steeling yourself. The first time you had encountered such strong anger, you had felt as if you were going to collapse. But you were stronger now, more prepared to deal with these kinds of feelings. The anger was strong, but also surprisingly shallow. In the depths of his emotions, Logan was worried. Terrified. A deep dark purple that made your own hands shake. His grip on your hand tightened, effectively drawing you back to yourself. There was more, a soft inviting pink that you didn’t dare to touch and shiny bright gold, which told you he was proud. 

You opened your eyes, fighting back the heat you felt creeping onto your cheeks. His expression hadn’t changed, pure trust and tenderness. It should have been disarming, or at the very least surprising. Logan wasn’t so open and honest with people. But the two of you had always had different expectations for the other. 

You couldn’t help it, a smile crept over your features. “You’re proud of me?” 

He rolled his eyes, but his smile only grew. He took your free hand in his, pulling you in closer. “I’m always proud of you.” He hesitated for a brief moment, and you did your best to bite your tongue. You could tell Logan had been making an effort to open up lately, and not just to you, but that didn’t make prolonged silences and easier to bear. “I know it’s not my place to demand anything of you.” 

“You’re my… friend.” You cut him off, wincing at the pause. It didn’t feel like the time to pressure him into labeling whatever feelings may be floating around. “And I always want to hear my friend’s opinions. What’s bothering you so badly?” 

“I could hear your heartbeat from upstairs.” Your eyes grew wide, too shocked to try to school your expression. Logan had told you several times that he had learned to block out his enhanced hearing when he was quite young. Usually to tease you when you got on a long tangent about something you enjoyed. He pretended to zone out and ignore you, but he would always remember small details about your rants, bringing them up nonchalantly at a later date  “I, uh, keep an ear out sometimes. Helps with the worry.” 

He worries about you? Even more surprising, he’s listening to your heartbeat like background music to his day. You promise yourself you will ask him about it when you don’t have a room full of your friends waiting on you. “I thought we’d covered this. I can take care of myself.” 

He sighed, bringing a hand to rest gently where your jaw meets your neck. “Sweetheart, I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from watching out for you.” 

Your hand moved to rest overtop of his. “The good news is that I will have lots of people watching out for me. You know they won’t let anything happen.” You receive a single huff in return. He’s not convinced. “You know that these are the kinds of missions we send the kids on. I’ll be fine.” 

He considers for a moment, before dropping his hand and nodding. “Give me a second to get changed, and we will head out.” 

You grabbed for his hand, but he was already out the door, and moving too fast for you to stop. “Logan, don’t be ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is you thinking that I would ever let you go out there alone.” 

“As we already established, I have three very capable friends coming with me. I am only going as a contingency plan.”

“Well then consider me the contingency to the contingency plan.” You huffed, following him next door. 

You darted around in front of Logan, pushing against his chest with all your strength, even if you were fully aware that it was the equivalent of a fly buzzing around him. He stopped all the same, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. “I know you’re worried and I know that this is you trying to help.” Logan had his I’m about to interrupt you look on his face, leaving you to shove him again. Thankfully, he understood your intention. “This is important to me. You can’t be there every time, and I have to stand on my own two feet. I want to contribute to the work we do here more than just teaching kids about how awesome Shakespeare is.” The look was back. “Which is still an important contribution.” You added, which seemed to appease him. “But, I don’t want it to be my only contribution. So I am going to go and make sure that this scared kid who is all alone out there makes it back here safe. And you are going to stay here and make sure that everyone gets dinner and help with their assignments. And then when I get back, we are going to have a talk about all this.” 

“All this?” A smile crept back onto your face, hearing the teasing tone in his voice. 

“Oh my god shut up!” He caught your hands before they made contact with his chest, but he was slow to let go this time. He brought the back of both of your hands to his mouth, dropping a small kiss on each one, before returning your hands to your side. 

“If you come back with so much as a bump to the head, Scott’s dead.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and pointing out that this was exactly what you were talking about earlier did little to sway him. So you gave in, agreeing to give him a full report before slipping your hand into his and tugging him towards the jet. 

“We’ll be back in a bit.” You promised. You could feel the others staring from just inside the jet, but you barely noticed. Logan was checking over your suit meticulously, tugging zippers a few more clicks up and making sure that the collar wasn’t too tight around your neck. He kneeled down, checking to make sure the laces on your boots were double knotted. “Logan,” you laughed, reaching down to tilt his head up to look at you. “I’m too seconds away from sending a lot of exhaustion your way and leaving you passed out in here. You have to let me go, it’s going to be fine.” 

He remained kneeling for a second too long, a look in his eyes you couldn’t entirely place. The sound of the jet powering on broke the both of you out of your trance. He was on his feet in a flash, checking over you one final time. You rose up on your tippy toes, balancing by resting your hands on his shoulders, before gently kissing him on the cheek. You pulled back, nose scrunched up from the tickle of his facial hair. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort for us, yeah?” 

He nodded, pupils slightly blown out and a dreamy look on his face. You giggled, walking backwards for as long as you can before turning around and finding a seat on the jet. You could feel Jean and Scott’s eyes on you as Ororo began maneuvering the jet out of the garage. “Don’t even start.” You muttered, settling firmly into your seat, doing your best to soak up the pride and confidence the others were projecting into the cockpit. 

as always, feedback is so appreciated! if you have any requests for these two/wolverine in general, please leave them here!

next part

[metranart]

— HAWKS + DABI + BAKUGO + SHIGARAKI || THINGS THIS LOVESICK BOYS SAY WHEN IN BED WITH YOU

-----------HEADCANONS-----------

HAWKS

“Oh, my darling...fuck, keep doing that.” 

“You're so beautiful, I'm so glad we found each other.”

“I know I’m a mess-… what else was I supposed to do while waiting to make you mine?” 

“Lay back and let me do all the work. I’ve dreamed of eating your pretty pussy all week.”

“Hey, don’t shy away from me. C’mere-”

“You’re so fuckin’ soft. Shiiit…”

“Hey—no teasing the feathers.”

“I n-need to-... I just-…-I’m going to start moving now.”

“Arms around my neck and legs around my hips— ngh! Gravity is a bitch, I don’t want you falling on me, at least, not literally.”

“What a good mate, you respond to me so well."

“I’m so fuckin’ deep, my pretty girl-”

“Fuck—I can’t... I’m not gonna last-”

“Don’t be embarrassed. I love when you squirt on my face.”

“God I’ve wanted this for so long. I’m going to breed your pussy every day, all day long, even after I’ve knocked you up.”

“We're both getting older, babe, and if we want to have more chicks than stars in the sky, then we need to get started.”

“Tell me you love me-… tell me again.”

“I do get ahead of myself often, but I can’t help it. I just know we belong together-” 

“What do you say we try for a baby this time?”

"You’d be adorable, so swollen and full that you can't walk, that you'd have to rely on me for everything...”

“Touch yourself, c’mon. Let me see how you play the right notes.”

“You're going to be a wonderful mother for my chicks.”

“Let me help you move pretty, put your hands on mine.”

“No one’s gonna hear if I put my hand here… no biting, hun.”

“I’ll make it quick, darling... just—let me… let me go again.”

“Need a hand or a finger?”

“Just wait, baby... Fuuuuck—give me a damn minute.”

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Arch your back, there you go, such a good girl.”

“Fuck, even after cumming you aren’t ready to accommodate my size. Don’t worry, baby,” he kisses your creased forehead, “—then just the tip this time.”

“Shit, I can’t help it—” you can feel him twitching excitedly inside you. “I just like you so damn much!” He grunts and snaps his hips again, diving deeper. 

“Just bear with me, I swear I’ll eat you for hours after…. Please, pretty, pleaseeeee…” He kept his pace, practically purring with his throaty groans. 

“No matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, I know how to fuck you well, ain’t I, beautiful?” 

“C’mon let me hear you, I can feel you getting tighter… my cock’s rubbing those hard-to-reach places…. Fuck! I- slid in so easily.”

“I’m painfully close-…. Fuck, I don’t want to cum yet…”

 “Is this your sweet spot I’m bullying?” 

“Each thrust is inching you closer… should I slow down or go faster?”

“Deeper? Okey-… just try to keep it together, I have neighbors.” 

“Give me one more. please, just one more baby.”

“Try to keep your eyes open, I know it’s hard…b-but try for me beautiful.”

“Go ahead and sleep, honey, I’m not going anywhere.”

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

DABI

“What’d I did to deserve such a pretty thing like ya?”

“I’ve barely touch you. You really that hot for me, sweetheart?”

“Open your legs, not gonna say it again.”

“Doesn’t hurt, its already scarred skin.”

“If I have to kiss your tears away again, you are gonna get it— I’ve already told ya, it doesn’t hurt anymore-”

“Bury your hands in my hair, yes... Just like that.”

“Stop pushing me away. You’re gonna take it all, don’t make me shove it down your throat.”

“You love to play the feeble act, but your moans give you away, princess.”

“Nuh-uh, you haven’t cum yet.”

“I said ass up.”

“You want it so bad? beg.”

“Take them off before I rip them off of you, doll. Don’t try me.”

“Harder,” he mutters, not a minute after you started. “Harder,” he demands again.

“Could you go any slower? Ride me like you mean it, princess. I know you can.”

“Can barely feel that shit. You gotta do better than that, princess. You know I like it rough.”

“Fuck,” he bit out. “Yes, fuck…. Just like that.”

“Come on pretty girl. Ride me till you’re numb, yeah? Want you to fuck yourself stupid on my cock today.”

“Move my hands again and see what happens-”

“Fuck—” 

“Sorry, baby-… I just had to jump at the opportunity to sink my cock deeper.”

“Sit on it.”

“Worried it won’t fit? We always make it work just fine—”

“I don’t have condoms, they’re annoying.” He grunts the reply, inwardly absorbed with impatience. 

“Don’t move—Just gimme a minute… F-Fuck…”

“You fuckin’ genius, dammit, I love you so damn much! Not even I knew that spot— …” He shakes his head, in disbelief of the pleasure, even more so that you been the one to give it to him.

“Did you do that on purpose, princess? ‘cause now we are doing it every time.” 

“Fuck that. Don’t know if you heard sweetheart, but you were made for me to fuck and breed.”

“Stop it, no more whining—I’ll do my best to be…. gentler.” 

“Really? resist me all you want. I know you love being treated like this.”

“Ridiculous, I could stare at your pretty cunt all day long.” 

“Fuck Yeah! I adore the way your thighs tremble like jelly after you cum.”

“Should I pull out? Nah, better give me a daughter to spoil.”

“Unless you were playing with yourself before I got here, I’m guessing this is because of my pretty face?”

“Over my knee, now.”

“Sure, I love ya— but you are not in charge here, princess. Fuckin’ spread them for me.”

“Want me to spank that pussy? lay on my lap then-”

“One’s never enough, I know my princess’s pussy and its begging for another.”

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

BAKUGO (NSFW art teaser here!)

“Do you want me to fuck you harder, cutie?”

“You can be loud, I love to hear you, (Y/N).”

“I’ve waited so long for this...”

“That’s it... slow and easy—” 

“How much longer you gonna make me wait, baby?”

“You ever take it raw? Get a big load of cum in your pussy? —don’t shy on me, I know you love when I talk dirty to you.”

“Take it off before I tear it off.”

“Baby... please...I hate to beg-”

“Make me wait much longer and I’ll have to fuck you in an alley somewhere.”

“What a naughty little girl I have just to myself.”

“Ugh, so hot and wet.” 

“I said I wanted to eat your pussy, didn’t I? Just sit back and enjoy it, baby girl.”

“I’d hate to stop teasing you right before the fun part.”

“It’s so warm...”

“Who do you belong to?” 

 “Whose pussy is this? Say who you belong to.”

“God, what a good fucking cunt. It keeps clenching on my cock like it’s hungry for more milk. You want that? You want me to fill you up?”

“As you wish, princess.”

“You gonna cum?” 

“Go on, gorgeous. Cum on Daddy’s cock.”

“Fucking take it... take every drop...” 

“Nice and stuffed... all mine... my little slutty girl...”

“I said spread those fuckin’ folds.”

“So wet and tight, but my cock just slides right in. It’s like you were born to take me inside of your cunt.”

“Aren’t you a sight. All blissed out when we aren’t even done.”

“That’s right, darlin’. You didn’t think you could tease me for so long and get away with just one little fuck, did you?”

“Oh, did you think we were finished?”

“Did I stutter or somethin’?”

“Alright, baby girl, you asked for it. Just don’t come crying to me if you can’t move after I’m done with you.”

“Don’t move—Just a sec… F-Fuck…”

“No, this is-this is fine. This is beyond fine. Keep doing it, please.”

“Shit, darling, don’t-” 

“God, you make me so needy. Please.... fuck, please...”

“You feel so wonderful, I might go crazy—"

“More... please, more...”

“Fuck, I’m stretching you so good.”

“God, the thought of you ever doing something like this to anyone else... I can’t stand it.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. You’re my precious BABY, now and forever."

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

SHIGARAKI

“It isn’t even a ‘might’. I can tell you right now with the utmost certainty that you are MINE.”

“Keep looking into my eyes, don’t you fuckin’ look away…”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” He coos in a demeaning tone. “I’ll be your first and your last. Not any of these other NPCs.”

“I can hardly keep my hands to myself, your room or mine.”

“I can do whatever I want to you, I’m player one!”

“I know, I’m keeping track of my digits, don’t worry your pretty head.”

“You are too precious to me to turn to dust, my love.”

“I can’t- I’m dying to breed you, to bury my cock in your wet pussy. Don’t move, I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

“My pants are uncomfortably tight, the fabric’s straining against my throbbing dick, I told you not to put on that dress, dammit” Shigaraki’s practically scratching at the wooden table, surges of arousal shaking him to his core. “Can we go now? Like right NOW?!”

“MY girl, so pretty and needy for my cock.”

“You want him dead. You got it.” Ruby eyes stare through his bangs up at your face in some sort of silent promise. “—Of course, I will. You are my everything.”

“It hurts. I need you to- FUCK, just like that.”

“Fuck, how-how are you this fucking wet and warm inside, fuck, fuck…!”

“Please fuck me.”

“H-hey, I know a fun game we can play together… It’s called ‘how many times can I make you cum all over my cock?’” 

“One point, five points, ten points—Cumming again? Are you shooting for a new high-score, sweetheart?”

“Now... care if I use my mouth on you?”

“Just be good for me, and I’ll take very, very good care of you.”

"Look at you, so worked up over a few couple of fingers, did you miss me that much, sweetheart?" 

“Just looking at you is enough to, oh fuck, drive me wild.”

"So desperate for my cock to stuff you-say it, say you want my cock—ngh!”

"S-Shit,"

"Needy girl, I'll let you have it, be fucking grateful." 

"What? Fainting on me already?"

"Don't let me see you doing this again, or else."

“Just fuck me. I need you, (Y/N), please. Please just fuck bury on me already...! I want it...! I want YOU..!”

“Have it your way then.”

"Keep licking my balls, oh fuck! I’m gonna die—"

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-!"

“You look so pretty choking on my cock.”

“Where do you want it, baby? Mouth, breast, face, pussy… take your pick-”

"Are you close, sweetie?" 

“My feisty little girl. Aren’t you just adorable?”

"Good girl. Give me a minute and I’ll clean up that mess you made." 

“Cum for me. Cum on my cock and show me that you’re mine.”

“I just... wanted to cuddle a little more, is all. Didn’t want to... you know, waste the moment.”

“Don’t you worry, my love. I’ll be sure to give you anything you could ever want and more.” 

“You don’t have to take me all the way into your esophagus, but I expect you to make me cum, and yes, I do want you to swallow.”

“Go on, get on your knees.”

“Ngh, that’s it, keep going...”

“You look so wonderful like this, with your lips wrapped around my cock. I wish I could take a pic for Dabi to swallow his words.” 

“I want you all to myself.”

“H-here it comes...Be sure... to drink... every.. last... drop...YOU ARE FUCKIN’ MINE!!”

I MADE SOME SICK NSFW ART FOR THIS HEADCANONS, YOU CAN CHECK THEM OUT IN MY PATREON. (Along with more MHA nsfw artwork)

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me all of that ultraviolence” | 2k

logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: You give Logan head for the first time.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ implied age gap. dirty talk. kind of inexperienced reader. oral sex (m receiving). face fucking. dom!logan. a tiny bit of degradation. he guides you through the whole experience (shocking!!! i know)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HI PALS!!! yes i'm alive and kicking. yes university is killing me. so recently i’ve been OBSESSED with this man and i needed to write something for him. english is not my first language and i may have made some mistakes (if you encounter any you can tell me, i won't mind it). comments/likes/reblogs would be highly appreciated. i've got sooooo many ideas to write and i'm finally getting my hands on them. i missed you all so fucking much. hope you enjoy this!!!

It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. You, as everybody else, have urges.

“Logan,” you basically mewl his name, five letters that roll off your tongue with little effort. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you, his kisses growing harsher on the delicate skin of your neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you decide to try again, speaking a bit louder this time. “Logan, please.”

“What is it, honey?” he says, bitten lips still pressed to your pulse point. As you remain silent, he looks up at you, those big, brown eyes that you love so dearly almost completely dark now. “Do you want to call it a day?”

His question catches you off-guard. You cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, suddenly afraid that he might pull away from you. “No! Not at all. That’s- that’s not what I want at all, actually.”

“What do you want, then? You can tell me,” he kisses you on the lips, softly at first. What starts as nothing more than a sweet kiss turns into a needier one, his hard on poking you through your shorts. “Come on. Tell me, baby. What does my sweet girl want?”

“I want to suck you off, Logan,” you whisper as you latch your mouth onto his, and you can feel how he visibly tenses beneath you. His breath hitches in his throat when you grind your hips. “I really need it.”

From the very beginning of your relationship, you had made things crystal clear: you didn’t have much experience on this territory. For a man his age, he was totally understanding. He knew you had your own times, that for him to take you to bed would take longer. Truth be told, Logan was willing to go to the ends of the world for you. There was no use in forcing anything.

At present, the bulge amid his legs becomes even more noticeable as you get off his lap, playing with his belt. “Can I?” you ask him, amazed at how straightforward you’re being.

Logan stares at you, so far panting, lust glowing in his eyes. “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters as he helps you undress him. His worn out jeans end up pooling around his ankles, and you locate yourself in between his legs. 

You’re on your knees, hands folded in front of you. Suddenly, it hits you, the shame of it all. How badly you want him, how desperate you are to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue. How many nights you’ve dreamt of this moment, unable to stop that unbearable need of touching yourself every time you thought about pleasuring him.

That’s what you truly want. For him to use you.

“What’s wrong, princess? We’ve talked about this a lot of times. You know what to do,” you can’t help but stare at his crotch as you listen to him, and then he raises your chin with his finger, your lips parting unconsciously. You blink slowly at him, eyelashes fluttering together. At last, he seems to understand what you’re trying to tell him, and he raises his eyebrows, that cocky grin of his taking place where it belongs. “You want me to guide you, don’t you? Want me to tell you what to do? Know you like it when I go a bit off the rails.”

You moan at his words, squeezing your eyes shut and nuzzling your cheek up against his palm. Slick gathers in your panties as you push your thighs together. “Please. Tell me what to do.”

“Take it out,” he instructs you, and you do as you’re told. Grabbing him by the base, you pull his cock out of his briefs. He twitches in your hand, and he’s so, so incredibly big. 

You stroke him once, testing the feeling. This you know how to do. You’ve given him hand jobs millions of times, although this one feels particularly different from the others.

He takes hold of your fist, applying a bit of pressure. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you got it all wrong. I’m the one who makes the calls here, okay?” he grunts, his brows knitted, and you only nod, salivating at the sight of his cock already leaking precum at the tip. Logan licks his lips, curling his hand around yours. “You do as I say. Now, stroke me. Nice. And. Slow,” he punctuates each of his words by moving both your hand and his in unison around his length. “That’s it, darling. You just need someone to boss you around from time to time, ain’t I right?”

One thing to know about Logan: he’s so full of himself on a daily basis, but he just gets worse in bed.

“My mouth,” you hover your lips over the head of his cock, all shiny and soft. He has let you go, both of his arms now flexed behind his head, as if he were appreciating how pathetic you must look on your knees, begging for him to allow you to taste him. “Let me.”

“Not yet,” his hips follow your tormenting pace, seeking the warmth that your skin radiates. He grits his teeth, biting his lower lip. You’ve no idea how a man so strong can become putty in your hands like this. “Greedy girl. I’m beginning to think you’ve set me up. Only a slut would get so worked up about having a cock in her mouth. What happened to my innocent girl? Gone with the wind, huh?”

“Please, Lo. I need it so bad,” you are whining, peppering his thighs with kisses. You inhale his musky scent, getting dizzy. “Give it to me. I’ll be good.”

Out of nowhere, Logan grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back. He scrutinizes your face, studying your blissed out demeanor. “I don’t doubt that. I’m sure you’ll be good. Otherwise, we’ll keep on trying. We have all night, and you have a good memory, just need to put it to use,” as he taps your lower lip with his tip, you catch him smirking. He repeats that same motion until he has you shivering from the excitement of being stuffed. ”Show me how much you need it. Go easy on it at first, okay? Don’t want you choking beforehand.”

You’re more than happy to comply.

Your tongue darts out to lick at his head, enveloping it between your lips. The salty taste of his precum invades your tastebuds, and you moan as you trace the veins of his cock with the pad of your thumb. “Tastes so good, Lo,” your voice sounds distant, almost unrecognizable to your own ears.

“I know, bub. Such a nice fucking mouth, can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I guess you’re a natural,” shaky fingers place a strand of hair behind your ears, patting your head as if you were a dog in heat. “Do you feel like bobbing your head a little?” he asks you, and you prepare yourself, attaching your mouth to his head once again. “Good. That’s good.”

With that being said, Logan fists your hair once again and shoves your face down, his hard cock tickling your throat. Your whines and his rapid breaths are the only sounds to be heard in your bedroom. He grins as he takes in the sight of you. “Oh, sweetheart. You look so beautiful with your mouth stretched around me,” his index finger taps your cheek and he feels the outline of his own cock. “You know I can smell you, right? You’re fucking soaked, baby. Think you’ll leave a stain on the carpet? You’d clean it off with your tongue, wouldn’t you?”

You have no idea how he’s coming up with these things, but you’re far from annoyed. In fact, you’ve never been this wet. Your underwear must be ruined at this point, and you wish Logan would tell you to touch yourself.

After some minutes of bobbing your head up and down, he pulls you off his cock and you breathe through your mouth for the first time in a while. As you gasp for air, Logan kisses you, tasting himself. He massages the back of your neck, his cock throbbing between the two of you. “You tired?”

Your glossy eyes widen. Shaking your head, you go for his balls this time, sucking one of them while toying with the other. Logan buries his hands in your hair for what must be the hundredth time in the night, unable to stop himself. “F-fuck, that’s it. A pretty girl like you just gets what she needs,” he praises you, and you return to his length, taking as many inches as you can without hurting yourself. Tears shimmer in your eyes, yet you can’t bring yourself to care about that detail. You’re far too focused on Logan’s grunts and growls. “Keep that up and I’ll come. You heard me? You’re gonna make me fucking come, bub.”

His words ignite a fire inside you. You use your hands, your mouth, everything that you have to pleasure him. He’s getting closer and closer, thighs shaking when you pay special attention to his tip. Logan responds to each of your movements, and as you feel every coherent thought fly out the window, you try to take him all the way down your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. He cants his hips up, brutally fucking your mouth. Like a dog without a leash, Logan seems to get lost in the warmth that envelopes his cock, chasing his own release. “You’re such a good girl. My good girl. Nobody will fuck this mouth ever again. I’ll ruin you for any pathetic guy that tries to get in your pants. You’re fucking mine, darling. Oh, f-fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck-”

You’re met with his happy trail once he spills his hot load inside your mouth. He keeps you trapped there, his cock twitching and spamming through the aftershocks of his orgasm. You don’t think twice and swallow what he’s giving you. Some of his cum slips from your lips, falling directly onto the carpet. Even Logan seems surprised when he doesn’t stop coming.

He helps you stand up after a moment, kissing you as soon as he gets the chance. He licks into your mouth, squeezing the flesh of your hips. Logan lifts his eyebrows, relishing how cock-drunk you must look. “I think you nearly killed me. And that’s a lot to say coming from someone who cannot fucking die.”

You plaster a smile on your face, hugging his wide frame. “So, was I okay?”

His jaw goes slack, and he lowers his head to capture your lips in another kiss. “You were fantastic. I could easily get hard again just from thinking about it,” his fingers trace the buttons of your shirt, tugging at the fabric of it. “What if you let me focus on yourself for a while? You’ve already done enough, baby. Let me take care of you,” he rubs his hands on your thighs, reaching for your drenched panties. “Perhaps we could try something else today. That pussy’s begging to be fucked.” 

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[nereidprinc3ss]

no sweeter innocence (than our gentle sin)

in which spencer reid is gentle with overwhelmed fem!reader after sex

18+ (fluff, implied intimacy) warnings/tags: it's just aftercare, but like psychological aftercare, implied intimacy duh, vague descriptions of sex but nothing explicit, hurt/comfort without the hurt, allusions to postcoital dysphoria, reader cries but its not really sad, spencer reid is so kind i wish men were real, i think that is all a/n: guess who wrote an entirely different thing instead of touching her wips..... AGAIN...... this bitch cant do anything omggg!! but this was based on a request so go me also what a strange time to be posting but it's only 1k words and nobody can stop me

“Hey. Are you with me, angel?”

You blink your eyes open in the dark room—reorienting yourself to the tangle of your bodies. How many minutes has it been?

“Hm?”

He chuckles—a quick huff from his nose as he brings a hand up to push hair from your face. 

“I asked you if you’re with me.”

It takes you a moment to answer. You’re still trying to make sense of where you are in space, each sensation coming back to you one by one—the weight and pressure of him against you, the slip of cotton sheets and a cool breeze from the cracked window over your heated sticky skin. 

“Oh.”

It’s not much of an answer and your voice is small. For a moment he lets it sit, cupping your warm cheek. Your eyes flutter shut again. His voice comes gentler, dipped in concern. 

“You okay?”

This time you don’t try to speak. Your tongue is like a lead weight in your mouth and your brain is running on dial-up. The best you can do is to cling to him, hiding your face in the curve of his neck and hoping he’ll understand that your firm hold on him is a request for him to tighten his own arms around you, until you’re sure you won’t float away. He reciprocates and it makes you feel more secure immediately. 

“Can you answer me?” He murmurs, all sweet solicitation, lips brushing the top of your head in this new airtight position. And then, a moment later— “Baby. I wanna hear your voice.”

“Mhm,” you manage. 

Spencer rewards you by rubbing your back in slow circles. His hand feels nice on your bare skin. The way you love him is too big for words. It could make you cry. 

“Wasn’t too much? You’re not hurting anywhere?”

You shake your head and try to ignore the ache in your bones when you can’t seem to get him close enough. 

“Mm-mm.”

It’s not entirely true—your legs are sore, but it’s nothing that needs tending to, and your lower back is a bit crampy, but he’s already working on that. 

He hums. “You’re pretty out of it, sweet girl. What’s going on with you?”

Spencer is always careful with you. He’d never hurt you, or sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure. That said, he’s just as passionate as you are. The stretch of your arms above your head is still fresh in your mind—the ghost of his grip, pressing your wrists into the mattress, or pushing your leg up, or pulling you exactly where he wanted you by the hips. It’s all wonderful, and you never feel safer than you do when you’re with him, but it doesn’t make you feel any less vulnerable, any less raw, after all is said and done. Maybe it’s precisely because you trust him so much that you’re so sensitive afterward. But he never, ever makes you feel bad for having an intense reaction to an intense experience. He always meets you where you’re at. That in itself makes you emotional. Spencer is different than any of the partners you’d had before. 

Again, he’s patient as you try to process his question and work up a response. Maybe a minute later, you’re breathing out something that feels true. 

“Overwhelmed.”

The word is a tap against glass you didn’t know was there until it’s fracturing like a spiderweb. With no warning, and for no good reason, you find yourself choked up. 

“Oh,” he says, sympathetic and drawn out as understanding sets in. “Do you need me to back off for a minute?”

You squeeze him even fiercer and shake your head, unable to stop the tears from drawing their shiny paths down your cheeks and sinking into the weave of the pillow case. 

“Shh. You’re okay,” he murmurs, quiet and slow and almost sing-songy as he smooths your hair, though you know he doesn’t really expect you to stop crying. “You’re okay, pretty. Remember what I said about all the hormonal shifts in your body after you come?”

Once more you nod against him with a small, shuddering sniffle. 

“And how sometimes your body regulates by crying? Kind of like a… a reset button?”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm.” He shifts from rubbing your back to tracing light lines in shapeless patterns with the blunt edges of his nails, and your breath catches before you’re melting in his hold. “It’s okay to have big or confusing feelings after sex. It’s actually really common. I just want you to be honest with me about those feelings, right? So we can keep you safe?”

“Right.”

“Would you tell me if you were hurting, or if something I did or said was bothering you?”

“Yes.”

If you were looking at him you know he’d be smiling ever so slightly at your monosyllabic responses, charting an upward path with his hand and pushing it through your hair at the nape of your neck. “You can just nod, baby. You don’t have to talk. I know you’re tired.”

You make a small noise of gratitude and nuzzle closer, feeling better as the tears slow, quickly as they’d come. 

“Do you want a bath in a little while?”

Another nod. He scratches at your scalp. “Okay. We’ll do a bath, and then dinner, and then I’m finally going to make you watch that documentary about Helvetica. It’s a little outdated, and there are a few basic errors about the origin and development of the font as well as misinformation about the typeface subgroup in general, but I can amend those as we watch and afterward we can read the director’s tenth anniversary statement. I was waiting to read it until we watched it together.”

Spencer knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll fall asleep ten minutes in, curled up on the couch under a blanket in your biggest hoodie with your head on his lap and his hand in your hair, just like this. 

He’s actually really looking forward to it.