#it's a long shot tbh but PLEASE

[scarlet-streak-rambles]

I so desperately want to find people to do RPs for Matchablossom or Eraserdust and every time I find someone they end up ghosting me. How do I clone myself so I can RP with myself but it's not just me writing fanfiction by myself it's the very specific experience of RP? I don't even know how to explain why there's a difference but there definitely is. T-T

[the-kipsabian]

.

[grahamcore]

just watched the handmaiden (2016) i wish lesbians were real

[stepfordgoth]

The love/hate relationship with a band you like that is old and/or will never be very popular and therefore you can not Google lyrics that are stuck in your head and actually expect to find the song title

[sunshinesalmon]

if you need me i’ll be gnawing on a tree branch at the bottom of a deep ravine somewhere in the olympic national forest

[makismei]

❝ YOU A SUPERMAN? OR… A MINUTE MAN?

♡ fem!reader x various

featuring…. gojo satoru, nanami kento & fushiguro toji

cw: 18+, minors dni, squirting, overstim, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, anal play (nanami)

synopsis: who’s pounding till the sun rises and who’s clocking out after one round?!

notes from mei! tbh the title doesn’t really make sense… i listened to mcnasty(?) by jay park when it came out a while back and that lyric really resounded in my soul

GOJO ♡ a quick shot. but his dick stays hard. pretty superman-esque if you ask me.

“you idiot—fuuuck, stop moving your hips!” the sound of both of your cum sloshing together rings in your ears. you’re pushing at his tummy, quivering legs haphazardly thrown over his shoulders and tears bubbling in your lash line.

it feels so full inside of you. you’ve both been going at it for god knows how long; his release smeared on your lower tummy and inner thighs.

satoru moves your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours as he starts to press weight into each thrust.

“ahh, mmaahhh!” head shaking back and forth on the pillow, “‘m gonna cum! i can’t—satoru, m’ gonna die!”

he’s practically whining, ignoring your pleas with sweat beading down his temple as he plows you relentlessly. “baby, i can’t hold out.”

his head’s thrown back, feeling his dick twitch whenever he kisses your cervix just right, eyes rolling back into his skull.

“y’feel so good baby, why do you feel so good?” he pants, not realizing he’s filling you up with hot ropes of cum. he’s still thrusting and you swear if he keeps this up your bottom half is going to be numb.

still absolutely rock hard inside of you, he turns you on your side, one leg still on his shoulder while he grinds against that one spot that renders you speechless.

“let me have one more, baby.” he whines, legs shaking, “‘m still so hard f’you.”

NANAMI ♡ depends. he’s good at holding himself off, but he also enjoys stuffing you with multiple loads of his cum.

he’s groaning, eyes lidded as he watches you align his cock with your leaky slit. globs of his cum seep from your pussy, soiling his faintly coloured pubic hairs. someway, somehow, you managed to flip your previous positions and he’s the one laying on the mattress instead of you.

“my love,” he breathes, his large hand; callused from his work but still so gentle, caresses your hip, “i’m not going anywhere.”

it’s as if you’re in a rush, scrambling like he’s going to disappear.

you whine, legs quivering when his tip swipes against your entrance. “please, nami, i want you to cum again… it feels s’good.”

he smiles, his other hand reaching out to hold your face, thumb gently stroking against your cheek. “so needy today… have i been neglecting you?”

leaning down, you bury your face into his neck, grinding your soaked pussy onto his hardening cock. you hum shyly, distracting yourself by leaving wet kisses on his neck and shoulder.

he hums, your shyness making him all smug and sappy. “so that’s what it is, huh?”

you feel him harden, before he’s lifting you and dropping you down on his cock. you tense, squealing into his shoulder. languidly, he’s making you fuck down onto him, his own hips jolting up to meet you halfway.

sneakily, a hand makes it’s way down to your ass. he swats playfully before gathering slick at the point where you’re both connected. surprised, your eyes widen when you feel his finger start playing with your rim. it’s gentle, soft massaging as he’s jackhammering into you.

with your legs shaking, he doesn’t bother trying to move your hips, simply doing the work for you.

you’re gushing, liquid drooling from your pusey before you force yourself off of him, practically screaming as you squirt all over his lap. nanami groans, pulling you back down onto him to chase his release.

“oh my god—oh, fuuucckk!!” nails digging into his skin, your eyes roll back from the onslaught of pleasure. “‘s shoo gooood!”

he chuckles in your ear, but it gets cut off with a moan, flooding your cunt with his seed. kissing your tear-soaked cheeks, he smiles against your skin. “still feeling neglected, baby?”

TOJI ♡ one round and he’s hooonkkk mimimi… but he’s fucks nawwstyyy. like. he fucks you so good one round has you nearly passed out and quivering—drool and tears all over the pillow and your squirt leaving a niceee puddle right underneath you.

“that’s right, doll.” he whistles lowly, watching your legs tense, knees lifting themselves off the bed as he continues to bury his fingers into your cunt, his pupils practically dilating as he continuously prods against your sweet spot.

it’s wet and sticky between your legs, pussy glistening under the cheap glow of your bedside night light.

you’re damn near in a downward dog, face smushed into the mattress as your squirt soaks the bed. toji doesn’t let up, toying with your clit as he grins, cock twitching in his boxers.

when you slump face first into the bed, you’re practically drooling as you know what’s coming next. sturdy, thickset fingers knead the globes of your ass, before you feel his heavy cock sneaking it’s way into your slit.

“look at you,” he jeers, leaky tip pressing into your cunt. “being such a sweetheart after i made you squirt a few times.”

he buries himself to the hilt and you think you’re going cross-eyed. “yeah,” he croons, hips finding rhythm and bouncing on the fat of your ass, “you just wanna cum, ain’t that right?”

“yeesshh!” you cry. this position allows him too much control. you’re flat on your stomach, barely holding yourself up from your elbows. toji bares his weight on you, practically humping you and you know, he’s about to cum.

his tip kisses your g-spot repeatedly, scarred lips leaving wet kisses on your shoulder. “‘m gonna cum, baby,” he breathes, “you’ll take it, won’t’cha?”

you nod, eyes teary, “mmhm!”

you feel his lips against your skin, grinning. “cum with me baby, c’mon. you got it.”

as if his words have magic, he thrusts a couple more times before he feels you squeeze, and he’s a goner. groaning, he has a feeling you’re squirting again while he’s shooting rope after rope inside of you. he’s dizzy, practically blacking out after he pulls out, wiping you down with his shirt that he’s mistaken for a towel.

he slumps beside you, with his eyes closed, he slings a hefty arm over your waist. you adjust as he pulls you closer, lips brushing against your scapula.

he’s snoring before you know it.

panel is from i’ve become the target of his affection ^.^

[spacelesscowboy]

my body is an orphanage btw. we take everyone in.

[pagesofkenna]

Spenser is such a breath of fresh air on Candela Obscura, I'm go glad he got to GM this season. I don't have as much time to watch actual plays as I would like so this past year has been just Critical Role and Dimension 20 and while there are a variety of GMs these shows rotate through Spenser's the first actually fully new-to-me GM I've seen in a while. and I'm really enjoying how he's running these games

[rafecameronssl4t]

I need more season one rafe fics please! I love your writing!! Also, last fic was amazing! Tbh I'm not a fan of #her ( yes I'm a hater)

Midsummers || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: It was concerning stumbling across your boyfriend and JJ fighting, but what was more concerning was his comment about Kiara.

Warnings: swearing, mild fighting? if there’s anything else lmk

Word count: 1,425

A/n: my summaries are always so shit 😭 anyways…. this was so much fun to write 😭 if u want more s1 rafe lmk and send thru requests!!!

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

“Rafee,” you squeal, feeling his hands firmly grasp your ass, igniting a wave of pleasure that you struggle to contain. His lips trace a heated path along your neck, only intensifying the sensation and making it harder to stifle a moan. “It’s fine, no one’s coming here,” he mutters against your skin, his breath hot and reassuring as it mingles with your mounting desire.

A sudden knock at the door makes Rafe groan in annoyance. “What? We’re kinda busy here!” he yells out, his frustration evident. Undeterred, you press a trail of kisses along his jaw, your lips trailing down to his collarbone, trying to distract him from the interruption.

Topper and Kelce walk in making you huff in annoyance, pulling away from Rafe, who glares at their direction. “Seriously, guys?” you mutter, irritation clear in your voice. “Sorry—uh—JJ just walked in,” Topper stammers.

At the mention of JJ’s name, Rafe’s expression darkens, and he quickly rises to his feet. “What the fuck is that pogue doing here?” he spits out, his eyes flashing with anger. Without waiting for an answer, he glances at you sharply and commands, "Stay here." With that, he storms out of the room, his frustration palpable. You watch as they leave, leaving you alone. With a huff, you get up and begin wandering around the room, trying to find something to entertain yourself.

~

Rafe and his friends race through the island club, their eyes sights set on JJ. He darts through the crowd, but they close in on him, finally cornering him in the locker room. Kelce moves swiftly, seizing JJ and locking him in a tight headlock. JJ struggles, but Kelce’s grip is ironclad. "Hold him still," Rafe commands.

Rafe smirks, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "What do you think? A 4 iron, right?" he asks his friends playfully as they all chuckle. "Keep his head still, yeah, Kelce? I'm gonna line this up." Rafe adjusts his stance, mimicking the motion of a golfer about to take a swing. JJ, despite Kelce’s suffocating grip, manages to choke out, "Very Rafe of you. Five on one?"

"If you could please stop talking. It's very disrespectful. I'm trying to hit a ball, alright?" Rafe snaps, his tone sharp and irritated as JJ continues to struggle. He gives a disapproving shake of his head. "Hey, learn your etiquette, my friend." His voice drips with condescension as he lines up his imaginary shot, the tension in the room growing thicker by the second.

~

As the minutes tick by, your boredom intensifies, and you decide to defy your boyfriend's request. Leaving the room, you set off in search of Rafe. It doesn't take long before you hear his voice echoing down a hallway.

Rafe snorts derisively as he examines JJ's bruised and bloodied face. "Your face looks really bad. Starting to look a lot more like your dad—" His sentence is abruptly cut off as JJ spits directly into his face.

“Oh, shit,” you mutter under your breath, feeling your heart rate quicken as the scene unfolds before you. "Rafe?" you call out, stepping forward. Your eyes lock onto JJ, who is trapped in Kelce's grip, his expression defiant despite his situation.

As you approach, Rafe wipes his face and slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you tightly against him. His grip is firm and almost possessive, a clear display of both his irritation and protectiveness. You can feel the tension radiating from his body.

"What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to stay in the room," he mutters against your head, his voice low and angry. You shrug, unable to find the words to explain your disobedience.

You glance at JJ, who despite his predicament, meets your gaze with a steely resolve. His eyes flick between you and Rafe, and for a moment, a silent communication passes between you. The air is thick with tension, a volatile mix of anger, defiance, and barely contained violence.

Rafe’s friends stand around, their faces a mix of amusement and anticipation. Kelce maintains his grip on JJ, his muscles taut with the effort of holding him still. Rafe’s irritation is palpable, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard as he stares down at JJ.

"Y'know, I never understood why you're dating him, Y/n," JJ says, his eyes raking over you. A scoff escapes your lips as you feel Rafe tighten his hold on you. "What's that supposed to mean?" you ask, tilting your head slightly in challenge.

"Well, isn't it obvious?" JJ chuckles, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You need a man, but he's high off his ass every fucking day. That's not very manly, don't you think?" His words hit you hard, and your face falls. "Are you trying to get killed pogue?" Rafe growls, pushing past you to storm up to JJ.

“Rafe, it’s not worth it,” you whisper softly, placing a hand on his arm to pull him back. But Rafe’s jaw is set, his muscles taut with rage. Suddenly, the lights begin to flicker, and a man walks in. "Gentlemen!" he announces. Kelce immediately releases JJ, shoving him towards you, but Rafe moves quickly, pulling you out of the way just in time.

"Is there a problem here, guys?" The security guard scans all your faces. "Pardon me, officer," JJ quickly interjects, trying to regain control of the situation. "No, there's not an issue. I just—actually, yes. No, there is an issue."

"Uh, we got a criminal trespass in progress here. Beep! Call it in, right?" JJ continues, his voice trembling slightly with mock seriousness. You watch in amusement as Rafe scoffs at him.

"Blatant disrespect for private property—" JJ starts again, but Rafe cuts in "Yep," his voice dripping with sarcasm. "—I'm in violation of all kinds of shit, sir."

The security guard raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the theatrics. "But these young gentlemen..." JJ begins, reaching out to adjust Kelce's wonky bow tie, but Kelce aggressively pushes him away.

"Don't touch my shit," Kelce snaps, his tone sharp with irritation. JJ stumbles back, caught off guard. "...Uh, caught me, sir, and they're about to take me away," JJ continues, trying to regain his composure amidst the tension in the room. Your head begins to ache from the sheer amount of talking he's doing.

"And that's what you should do, escort me out of here. You got me," JJ says, extending his wrists as if offering them up for arrest, a sardonic grin playing on his lips. You all watch in amusement as he puts on a show for the security guard.

"Come on," the guard says, pulling JJ along with him. "All right. Fix that tie, son," he adds, glancing back at Kelce. JJ turns to Rafe with a smirk, "You're looking spiffy too."

"You powerpuff girls have fun!" JJ taunts, addressing Rafe and his friends before being led away. Leaving your side, Rafe hollers out, "Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a pogue!" The words hang in the air, and your jaw nearly drops to the floor at the audacity of his comment.

In a split second, JJ breaks free from the guard's grasp and charges towards Rafe, but Kelce is quick enough to stop him from getting any closer. "You think I'm afraid of you, bro?" JJ shouts, his voice filled with defiance as the guard yanks him away once more.

"Hey! Safe travels back to the cut," Rafe calls out with a smirk on his face, clearly unfazed by JJ's threats. "This ain't over!" JJ shouts as the guard shoves him through the door, his voice echoing down the hallway.

"Hey, hey, it was really nice seeing you again, JJ!" Rafe's voice echoes down the corridor, breaking the tense atmosphere that hangs thickly in the air. He turns, a grin playing on his lips, only to catch your unimpressed expression.

"What, baby?" he questions, his smile faltering slightly as he moves to embrace you, but you push him away with a firm hand on his chest. "The fuck was that for?" Rafe's confusion is evident, his brow furrowing as he tries to make sense of your sudden reaction. The other boys shift uncomfortably, their eyes darting between you and Rafe.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" you snap, your frustration bubbling to the surface. Rafe's expression shifts from confusion to concern, his brows knitting together in worry. "What?" he responds, his voice tinged with confusion.

"Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a pogue?" you spit out the words, your tone dripping with venom. "I said that to piss him off, I was fucking joking, wasn't I?" Rafe protests, seeking validation from his friends, who quickly nod in agreement.

"Ha. Ha. Funny joke, Rafe. It had me rolling on the floor," you retort sarcastically, your tone laced with bitterness as you push past him, the fabric of his shirt grazing your fingertips. "Y/n," Rafe starts, reaching out to you, but you cut him off with a sharp glare, your eyes flashing with anger.

"Don't fucking talk to me, dickhead," you say, your voice cold and cutting as you storm away, leaving Rafe and the boys in stunned silence.

[seraphicsentences]

all mine (pt.2)

closeted/in denial abby anderson x reader

pt.1: you told me your new man don’t make you nut, that’s a damn shame.

please click here!

tags: sub!abby, dom!reader, experienced!reader, mentions of owen, tbh trauma from owen, strap-on sex, cunnilingus, 69ing, dry humping, grinding, nonexplicit masturbation, lowkey voyeurism+exhibitionism ish? there’s plot i swear.

A/N: im well aware that i apologize in every post i make and that its redundant, but im still sorry that i took forever to write.

so. some of this may sound a little familiar from the first part, but it’s simply just drawing parallels between abby’s and your stances on one another.

this gets gradually worse and worse. i think the quality started landsliding once i reached the smut. enjoy!

it’s been near ‘round a week later, and abby’s avoiding you like the fucking devil. in fact�� by the way she’s been acting, you think she might even believe so. she’s never felt so inexplicably thrown off. clickers, bloaters… couple of well-aimed shots and they’re no deal. but you? the ghost of your touches haunt her day and night. she’s like a woman possessed. and she’s insatiable.

her once weekly visits to the chapel have become daily: hour-long stays spent on her knees, prayers whispered hastily under her breath, eyes darting to paranoically try to catch potential eavesdroppers.

even owen, the air-headed asshole, has been left victim, or perhaps victor, to the effects of your actions. in a desperate attempt to ease her whirling mind, or rather, to ease the painful throbbing between her thighs, abby’s seemed to have turned to her boyfriend as a last ditch effort.

abby’s newfound flood of arousal, pooling and pleading, only to be met by owen’s two incher every night have had his ego blowing up fucking obnoxiously.

“god, abby, you’re fuckin’ desperate for my dick lately,” he’d gloat, hilariously blind to his girlfriend’s infidelity.

unfortunately for abby, her pathetic resorts have done nothing to quiet the moaning mess of guilt-filled memories. if anything, they’ve done quite the opposite.

she’s been left to the mercy of her palm, heel of it digging into her clit while she’s beside the sleeping figure of owen, straining every massive muscle in her body to give her that orgasm she so badly needs.

it’s to no avail, though. stuck gasping and tearing up against a pillow, her poor pussy crying for some semblance of relief. and what’s left is a week-long edged abby anderson, ms. “top soldier”, who’s back to shooting no better than a freshly new recruit.

what’s up with that, hm?

~

2am now, in the isolated west dormitory’s showers, and abby’s at it again. her body starving for your touch; your sinful, corrupting, addictive touch, and she’s failing to appease her needs once more.

“mmph- fuck, ah-please,” abby begs into her forearm, groaning as two thick fingers plunge deep into her sopping hole, thrusting in and out messily.

it’s exhausting to fuck the way you do. even with her arms the impressive size they are, it’s impossibly demanding to reach every nerve you had reached, filthy sounds echoing along the tile walls, taunting her.

abby knows what’s coming, or really, the lack of it.

skin pink from the heat of the water, she abandons her effort, shutting the stream off with a squeak and ventures the locker room to get dressed for the night.

her mind wanders to you— that’s all it ever seems to do as of recently, and she thinks about how she almost misses your antics. she can’t place her finger on what it is exactly about you that makes her chase every teasing interaction so masochistically.

maybe it’s your lopsided smile that lures her in, or that glint in your eye she gets caught up in. or maybe it’s just that she knows she shouldn’t want you, and it’s so deliciously wrong, and that’s why she’s got to have you.

towel flung over her shoulder, abby makes her way out, only to stop in her tracks when she hears the loud slam of a locker door.

what the fuck? wasn’t the bathroom empty when she last checked??

cheeks burning at the mistaking of her privacy, she swivels the corner, furious to see who the fuck else is using the west dorm showers at this hour. of all the hours.

and, well, abby’s frozen in place when she’s met with the sight of a mystery someone’s bare back. but oh, how she recognizes you, you and your wet hair, slinging droplets down your smooth skin, trailing lower and lower and-

you cough, breaking her trance. baby blue eyes dart up, caught, as you slide your tank on, smirking.

“hey, anderson.”

that just about does it for her. abby slams an open locker door shut, almost sprinting out of the room.

and really, there’s no choice but for you to follow her, practically hunting her down as she sharply turns down random hallways, clearly attempting to outrun you. abby makes a wrong turn soon enough, and you honestly think you might burst out into laughter because of the funny way fate seems to string the two of you together.

the blonde’s backed herself into a corner, and it just so happens to be your residential corner. you can’t help but wonder if she already knew where your room was located.

“scared, anderson?” slips out of your mouth, and it feels significant, reminiscent of the week before. you stare her down, wet strands clinging to her skin to match yours, and it’s like the two of you know what’s to come with your words. the inevitable.

you’re not sure which one of you moves first, rubber band of tension snapping as your lips collide in a catastrophic sort of way. you’re scrambling to blindly dial your dorm code in and tugging abby by her shirt in a tangle of limbs and saliva.

“i’ll play nice,” you pant, “even after that disappearing stunt you pulled last week.”

abby laughs, whispering, “whoops,” under her breath before pulling you in for another dizzying kiss, tongue eagerly curling into your mouth like she’s been waiting years for a taste.

you wrap your fingers around her hair with a tug, and the low groan that escapes from the back of abby’s throat has you repeating the motion again and again as you veer her backwards to fall atop your bed. you follow, straddling her, not wanting to spend a second apart from the fucking drug that her mouth is.

your hips grind down on their own, burning and desperate for stimulation. abby, in return, wraps a strong hand around your throat, pulling you even deeper into a sloppy kiss to swallow your moans as she pushes her hips up to meet yours.

“fuck,” you gasp, clit catching against the seam of your shorts with every roll.

abby’s mind has gone blurry with arousal, drunk off the satisfaction of finally getting what her body’s begged for. every pretty noise that slips out of your mouth sends pulses of pleasure straight through her bundle of nerves, and every touch of skin has her feeling set ablaze.

but as always, she needs more.

she maneuvers you easily under her big frame, your head tipping back in a soft whine as she latches herself onto your throat, biting and soothing your skin over.

she’s lodged a leg in between your own, mimicking your position as she wildly bucks her hips down onto you. “please,” she breathes out, tears welling in her eyes with how foreign this feeling is. she can’t bring herself to care about how needy she’s acting, because to starve, is to take anything.

“just like that, baby, you’re soaking my thigh,” you coo, continuing to dry hump her leg like she’s nothing but a toy to you. the whimper she lets out at the name you call her is downright criminal, and the way her movements pick up have you groaning it out again. “c’mon baby, make a mess of yourself for me,” you grab her meaty hips, grinding her harder down against you.

“gonna-“ she gasps into your neck, before shuddering against you as she cums with a cry, muscular thighs holding you so desperately tight in place. you almost scream, caught in the iron grip she has your body in, stopped so close to your own finish. you dig your nails into the flesh of abby’s hips, hearing her moan as the pain mixes with pleasure, and echo the sound yourself as the burning in your core starts up again.

“just let me, for a minute- i need you- just stay here, shit,” you ramble, gripping her hair for leverage while you fuck yourself faster against her thigh.

every twitch of a muscle beneath your soaked pussy has you reeling, unable to wrap your mind around what a massive fucking crime it is, for another woman not to have experienced the absolute blessing it is to have abby anderson’s defined-ass thigh to grind on.

you glance down at abby, and the fucked-out expression she has on, all watery doe-eyed as she peers up at you, mesmerized, has you throbbing enough to match your heart rate.

curse after curse flies out of your mouth as she attaches her mouth to your neck again, biting down as you let go of that coil tugging on your navel.

abby’s no sooner clambering atop you, diving in to taste your sounds as she scoops you onto her lap, practically growling, “fuckin’ get over here,” under her breath.

as your vision returns, she attacks your mouth with a sloppy kiss, colliding teeth, and you’re unbearably hungry for more.

“let me- i’m gonna taste you,” you breath out, shoving abby’s back down with a push.

she falls back with a soft thud, eyes not leaving you once. “please, fuck- taste me, have me,” abby affirms, scrambling to tug her shorts off.

the massive soaked patch at the center her boxers have your eyes rolling into your skull. “shit, anderson,” you run a finger over her clothed slit, giggling as she jerks her hips up.

“shut up,” she rasps, her words harsh, but the small smile on her face says otherwise.

you grin up at her, “didn’t say anything,” before licking a fat stripe up her covered pussy.

her response is immediate, hands fisting into your hair to pull your mouth closer, actions the epitome of more, more, more.

you flatten your tongue, licking, and meshing her arousal with your saliva to entirely soak her boxers wet. you wrap your lips around where you guess to be her clit, based off the place her legs tremble when your tongue reaches it, and suck hard.

“there,” abby whines out, back flying off the mattress, and you’re so very desperate to see what other fun reactions she has in store for you, you grab at her waistband to unveil her pretty dripping pussy.

up close, face to face, you get to really admire the work of art she is. the divets of muscle adorning her thighs frame her pussy almost in a greek-goddess sort of way. light brownish-blonde curls of hair that reach out to your mouth, trying to pull you in closer. she’s beautiful. you’re in complete control of her right now, and holding the reins of such an unreal being has you groaning into her slick eagerly, hands holding her spread wide open while you feast.

you’re dipping your tongue into her sopping mess, teasing and thrusting, feeling her gummy walls flutter around every brush of the muscle. you dart a thumb up to circle her puffy clit, red, from her earlier actions, and the way abby’s legs kick up— almost hitting you in the face, has you giggling again into her pussy. the vibrations of your laugh make abby squeal, thighs clamping around your head, and then she’s tugging at your hair, chanting, “stopstopstopstop,” and you, of course, oblige immediately.

your face comes up covered in her wetness, arousal dripping from your chin as you lick your lips in an halfhearted attempt to clean yourself up. “sorry, sorry, i- did you want me to stop?” you ramble, concerned that you might’ve gone a little too far this time, getting yourself involved with a taken straight girl.

abby’s face flushes a deep red, even darker than it had been from your actions, as she catches her breath and looks away. “no, i- can you, uhm.”

you catch on to her hesitation, newer to sex thats more than just, well, dick. you rub her calves soothingly, “use your words, baby, you got it.”

she visibly gulps, thighs pressing tight around your body, “can i?” she asks, almost sulkily as her hands move to tug at your shorts.

“oh-!” slips out of your mouth, surprised, “yeah, yeah you can.”

she lets out a soft okay, tugging harder now, slipping her calloused fingers under your waistband as well so as to drag both down together. abby’s groans, low and heady, at the sight of your glistening pussy, practically dripping down your thighs from just getting her off. “this too,” she murmurs, sliding your tank off before you can blink.

she’s pulling you in closer, as if she’s in a trance, as she wraps her lips hesitantly around one of your perked nipples. the high-pitched sigh you let out is more than enough encouragement for her to continue, warm tongue flicking at it as she sucks around your breast. “is this okay?” she pulls away to whisper, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she looks up at you, eyes wide.

“fuck- yes, just,” you push her head back in, her lips abiding immediately as they gently pull at your nipple, teeth grazing the most sensitive parts of your chest as you arch your back into it, quiet moans ringing in her air.

all of a sudden you’re being turned around, confused, until your hips are being lifted up towards abby’s stuck-out tongue and you’re shaking with your face pressed to her thigh while she experimentally kitten-licks around your hole, unknowingly teasing you.

her nose brushes ever-so-slightly over your pulsing clit as her tongue passes just over your dripping mess, and it has you crying out, “there, please- right there, please,” breath hot over her own throbbing pussy.

her hips jerk up at the sensation, and you take the hint— latching your lips around her own clit and stuffing two fingers easily into her hole, moaning at the feeling of her squeezing tight around you.

it’s no wonder abby’s the top soldier of wlf. for a girl who’s only ever been with the most lacking, vanilla man ever, she picks up fast. each action of yours is borderline self-serving, with the way abby’s mimicking every move not even a moment after, so adorably eager to please.

abby had this insistent need to pull every pretty sound from you, whether she got it through grazing her teeth against your clit, or curling a thick finger against your g-spot, she was determined to hear it— to the point where you thought she might’ve even needed it. and it’s what made sex with her so intoxicating.

she wasn’t like any of the other girls you typically hooked up with, and that’s not to say the girls you usually got with were bad to fuck… they just weren’t as invested in your pleasure as you were with theirs. and as the type to get off on giving rather than receiving, this was especially new. you’ve never been with someone like you. and god, does it take the cake.

abby’s really coming to terms with all the ways she can use her especially large everythings to make you feel good, murmuring into your pussy, “‘m fuckin’ splitting you open with my fingers, pretty,” as she pushes in a third finger to your sopping hole, relishing in the squelch that comes with the thrust.

your thighs shake around her head, stimulated beyond compare as you continue your ministrations on abby’s pussy, humming mhms into it to encourage more of her bolder ventures.

“mm-fuck, can feel you choking my fingers. you gonna cum, hm?” she mumbles cockily, the high from your reactions sending her mind into a frenzy.

“shit, please, need it so bad,” you croak out, taking only mere seconds apart from tonguing down her puffy clit.

“ah- god, me too, pretty. cum on my tongue,” she says, and the fucking vulgarity of it, so downright shocking to hear from ms. straight christian prude over here, has you riding your orgasm out, trembling heat overtaking your body like a california wildfire. matched moans come from beneath you, as abby’s hips fuck up against your mouth, legs flexing deliciously as the two of you reach your peaks together, the world slowing.

you slide your body off of hers, turning around to be met with a sight to behold. your cum, all over abby’s mouth, shining on the tip of her nose, remnants leaked onto her chin— and you have not a doubt you look the same mess. you yank her into a sloppy kiss, fluids mixing in your mouths in the most animalistic nature.

“i’m not done with you,” you say, eyebrows scrunched as you take in her fucked-out expression.

“i know,” she whispers, “give me more,” she breathes out.

abby slips out of her tank, finally, using the cloth to gently wipe your face and hers, action a bit too intimate for what you guys have, but neither of you decide to call out on it.

“you gonna let me fuck you?” you ask quietly, running a hand over her chest softly, enamored, as abby shivers from your words.

“please fuck me,” she whimpers, tone all pouty and petulant as she watches your hand trace ambiguous shapes over her skin.

“so polite,” you tease lightly, pulling her in for a brief kiss before reaching over to your bedside drawer and pulling out your favorite strap, just the one for the special girl in front of you.

8 inches, hot pink, with a slight curve to it, but most importantly, never been used on anyone other than yourself, by yourself.

“it’s so-“ she stutters nervously, thighs rubbing together in anticipation as you secure the toy onto your hips.

“pretty?” you finish, unable to help your laugh as she looks at you, so clearly not thinking of your response.

“yeah,” she shrugs, “suppose it is.”

it’s quiet in the room as you finish latching the silicone dick onto yourself, the two of you settling into the weight of your impulse-fueled actions.

you gently pull open her closed legs, settling yourself between them as you tease her entrance with the tip of the toy, covering it with her cum. you then spit down onto it, twisting your hand around to coat, and hear abby ask, “what’re you doing?”

you continue to prep the toy with easy motions, committed by memory, “i know you’re soaked, anderson, but it’s still a dick you’re taking, baby.”

“i just mean- i, you know,”

you hum, “owen doesn’t put in the effort, huh? and i bet you’re not even a quarter as wet for him as you are for me,” scoffing.

“don’t-“

“it’s the truth though, isn’t it?”

“…yeah.”

“that’s what i thought.”

you thumb her clit in circles, using her slick as lube to rub over it smoothly, relishing in the way abby’s head falls back and her hips jolt up. “that’s it, ease up for me,” you murmur.

you prod again at her entrance with the toy, sliding the tip in slightly as she hisses, “‘m sti-still sensitive.”

“and you’re gonna take it like the fuckin’ slut you are, anderson, aren’t you?” you tsk, pushing a couple inches more into her.

“shit- yes, yes ma’am,” she whimpers out, legs threatening to close from the new stretch.

“because even after all that time in the shower, nothing can fill you like i do,” you finish, thrusting the full length of you into her tight pussy, abby nodding repeatedly as her back arches up.

her moans pick up alongside your hips, voice breaking with every thrust as you push into that one sensitive spot deep inside with obvious expertise.

“so, s-so go-od,” she cries, hands gripping into the bedsheets as she searches for some tie back to reality.

you smirk satisfactorily, fast pace fueled by the sight of abby’s open mouth, drool spilling out the sides as her voice grows hoarse from constant use. you fuck her hard, strength channeled from the anger you bore against her homophobic attitudes, and jealousy you garnered towards owen and his idiotic male self.

you lock your eyes with abby, sweat dripping down your face as you zero down on her, slamming into her pussy with no reprieve. “no more owen,” you say, each word punctuated by another deep thrust.

“this is so wrong, this is so fucked,” abby rambles, nervous eyes darting around the room so as to avoid your gaze. her eyebrows are tugged together, head shaking no: but no to argue your words, or no to agree with them?

“has something so wrong ever felt so good?” you pant out, “tell me baby.”

“i can’t, i can’t, i can’t,” she repeats, torn between what felt right in her head, and what felt so right in her heart. “turn me over,” she babbled, not wanting to head-on face the fucking sin-filled act she was committing.

“you tried running, baby. and how’d that work for you?” you ask, fed up. “you’re still back here, a fucking mess, and all for me.”

“what’s it gonna take for you to face the fact that you’re getting fucked by a girl, and it’s so much better than anything you’ve ever experienced?”

abby’s eyes scrunch tight, trying to tune you out, but her moans still wrench out from the back of her throat, guttural and unstoppable.

you slide out finally, earning you a soft whine of disagreement, toy dripping with her slick with the tip pressed against her folds. “look at me, abby.”

and fuck. she’s never taken notice to the fact that you’ve never said her name before—but god does it sound so pretty coming out of your mouth. and god is it enough to make her wrestle her eyelids open and stare you dead in the eyes, blue clashing with the darkness you reeked in.

“say that again,” she whispers, look full of pleading. 4 letters, 2 syllables, but it has her core tensing and her heart racing a mile.

“tell me you’re mine, abby,” you breath, and she almost finishes right there and then.

“i’m yours,” she says, a single tear breaking free from her right eye, baptizing her skin, absolving her of guilt.

“good,” you choke out, bottoming entirely into her as she releases a cry. your movements quicken, ravenous, chasing the sweet whines that fill the room.

abby’s tits bounce with each thrust, and you reach down to give her sensitive nipples a pinch, making her reach an all time new height of pleasure. her chest heaves, curses slur, as she squirms under your touch, nearing an unbearably overstimulated state.

“feels- gonna cum,” she moans, barely holding on.

“cum for me,” you demand, needing to see her fall apart now more than ever as you pound into her harder, fingers rubbing harsh circles into her clit.

“s-shit,” she gasps, throwing her head back as her walls tighten around the toy, “‘m- fuck, god- fuck! ‘m cumming!”

loud squelching noises overtake the room, complete with the sight of abby writhing beneath you as spurts of her juices drench your moving cock.

her chest heaves, mouth open in a silent scream as she comes down from her high, squirming with overstimulation.

you can see the moment her brain clicks, panic in her eyes clear as her skin turns pasty white.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to do that i don’t know how-“

“abby.”

“-that happened ive never done that before, like who-“

“abby.”

“-fucking pisses on someone like that i’m so sorry ill clean it-“

“ABBY.”

her eyes shoot up to meet yours, frame cowering as she mumbles a quiet apology again, so obviously uneducated in the realm of half-decent orgasms.

“you squirted, abby, you didn’t piss on me for christ’s sake. it was hot. now don’t worry about it, i’m very honored,” you chide lightly, cradling abby’s heated face in your hand.

you stand up, grabbing a clean towel and wetting it with warm water from your kettle. striding over, you spread abby’s legs lightly, running the towel gently over her worked-out center, breath hitching, hips jerking with your touch.

“why are you- you don’t have to-“ abby stutters, grabbing your wrist.

you pause, confused. “abby, i’m not a fucking dick, contrary to belief,” you scoff.

she doesn’t let go. “no that’s not what i- i didn’t mean it like that, it’s just, you know.” she waits for you to look up at her, before looking away. “you don’t have to fuss over me.”

a laugh bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “you mean owen doesn’t-? yeah, who am i kidding, of fucking course he doesn’t ‘do aftercare,’ god, what a dick!” you groan, facepalming.

“abby, baby, this is fucking normal. owen just sucks,” you smirk, her cheeks flushing at your words. “let me take care of you,” you continue more softly, nudging her grip off as you drag the towel over her sternum next, cleaning off any remnants left from the two of you.

abby’s quiet now, eyes following your every movement, curious almost, a bit hesitant— as if she’s not sure what to do with herself in the meanwhile. she’s stiff to the touch, frame shrunken now due to the sheer vulnerability of it all. bare as the day she was born, and touched like she’s never done wrong a minute in her life.

she doesn’t know how to feel about it. wisps of hair tickle her nose, and so she scratches it, pushing her hair away, tugging it behind her ears. and you’re right there on it, wordlessly turning her around as you begin to comb through her hair loosely, pulling it into a simple braid. the same hairstyle she displays everyday, always done by her own hand: tight, knot-free, and burning into her scalp. a reminder to remain true to her virtues, live by strict rules, and not stray from the lord’s path.

but the way you braid is so different. you’re careful to tie in the tickling wisps, but not harsh. effective, but not pushing. with owen she feels like an accessory, but you make her feel like someone worth worshipping. and so, the only burning she feels is not on her scalp, but behind her eyes.

you do notice the subtle tremble in abby’s shoulders, droplets trickling down her cheeks as you weave her hair through, but you make no comment on it. certainly not with the way your own hands fumble her golden strands, fingers shaking into the knots. you tie the end of it up.

“i should go,” abby whispers, standing to grab her scattered clothes.

you remain seated, mouth opening and closing like a fish, as your lips struggle to wrap around the words your heart is singing out for.

you settle on one.

“stay,” you blurt, louder than you intended, the word ringing in the tense air.

abby freezes, hand outstretched towards her tossed shirt. her head edged just the slightest bit towards you, like subconsciously, she was waiting for you to say something.

“just- stay,” you whisper this time, more unsure. waiting for the rejection you know is to come. and while your brain is screaming for you to let her go, your eyes are hooked onto abby’s figure— searching intently for the smallest signal of her response.

you see her breath catch in her throat.

“okay,” she whispers back, and her head turns just enough for your gazes to lock, matched desperation surging.

she’s drawn back to the bed like a magnet pulled to its twin, the mattress dipping as she settles in the space beside you.

and abby feels the heat of your drilling stare, one she refuses to return. she has no more fire left in her, not for you, just contemplation. a longing for more, an urge to savor, an ache to feel.

so abby faces the door, and you face her back, waiting for the day she’ll turn around.

so what did we think guys?!?? this was 4.7k words. crazy.

ok. so notice the tear coming from her right eye during that whole end part of the sex. note that it came from her RIGHT eye. scientifically speaking, that’s a tear of joy. BOOOOOOM MIC DROP.

i, unfortunately, shot for the stars and tried to make this deeper. hard to do that when you’re not in touch with your emotions. so now you guys are stuck being confused. good luck!

anyways. the final scene is supposed to represent where they metaphorically stand in their relationship. reader is trying to bond with abby, or at least making an effort to, hence her facing abby. abby can’t come to terms with all this, but she’s trying! she’s not fully accepted the homosexual part of herself though, the side that comes out with reader, so she’s facing the door. FACING IT, not leaving through it. ;)

also, yes, owen goes in dry. it’s canon. do not come at me.

taglist:

@pricefieldsuperiority @heartlexs @graviewaviee @liaphrodite @k1ngpin42 @deadbolted @be3flow3r @mrsabbyanderson

@rob1nbuckl3ys @vivispace @bookpagecandlescent

@thelosstvalkyrie for photo creds ty baby <3

[chevroletdean]

nsft alphabet [dean winchester] ── ✮⋆˙

genre: smut, explicit ─ minors dni! a/n: writing headcanons was easier than a kinktober one shot, oops. enjoy, i'll try to follow up with a sam version soon. and possibly other characters? (i'm feeling like writing one for alec mcdowell tbh) feel free to request any in my inbox! credit & links: alphabet ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ request here taglist: comment a green heart 💚 to be added to the dean x reader taglist (please note: ageless blogs will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts) @winchester-whiskey @whormotional @spacecowgirl126

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

It honestly depends on where you guys are, but generally speaking, he always makes sure you’re okay. If there’s anything you need, he’ll tend to it – which can range from a clean towel to a gentle forehead kiss. Even if you’re technically on the run or have somewhere urgent to be, he at least makes sure you’re both good to go.

Preferably he likes to take his time with you though. The aftermath of sex is one of the rarer opportunities for Dean to be openly sappy and vulnerable. Even with hookups, to some degree at least, the warmth of a lover’s arms is one of the places he can fully relax and he wants them to feel just as comfortable.

That said, he can be a little lazy. He makes sure the necessities of aftercare are fulfilled, always, but don’t always expect a luxurious bubble bath and immediately changing the sheets. Oftentimes he just wants to collapse onto bed with you and catch his breath.

He’s 50% giddy and proud smile – all cocky grins and smug bragging – and 50% sleepy. Your embrace is the closest he can get to experiencing heaven, he’s sure and getting to rest his head against your chest is the best feeling on earth. The sound of your steady heartbeat will definitely lull him to sleep and he’s insistent on cuddling the whole night through.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He has a love-hate relationship with his face. People keep telling him he’s handsome and even call him a pretty boy and sometimes he can’t see what they see. Most of the times his face card is a useful tool when it comes to investigation and working his charms. Other times he can’t stand looking at his own reflection. But when you compliment him on his freckled nose, his green eyes and long lashes, he definitely takes pride in it.

This particularly applies to his lips. He knows you love how pink and plump they are. And how pretty you think that smile of his is. It gets him anywhere he wants. Plus, the things he can do to you with that mouth, speaking sweet nothings, kissing you all over… what’s not to take pride in?

As for you, he’s a simple man, sometimes bordering on caveman – he’s obsessed with your butt and not shy to let you know. Whenever he gets the chance, his hand is somewhere on or close to your ass.

Your hands too though, not a chance he passes up on to hold it, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t think about your hands on him 24/7. If you wear any rings or nail polish, he always notices.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Loves to ask “Where do you want it, baby?” but his personal favorite is definitely in your mouth. Not even down your throat, he loves seeing you stick your tongue out for him, all coated in his cum, before you swallow.

He’s tried tasting his own cum before out of curiosity and had conflicted feelings about it. He’s even considered changing his diet afterwards, but (unsurprisingly) he got tired of eating so much fruit pretty quickly.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not really a secret, since it’s literally canon and we all know he loves wearing lacy panties, but yeah. He definitely stole a pair of your underwear before and he’ll deny having seen it anywhere if you’d ask.

Since he loves sexting, he definitely has a nude or two of you and after annoying Sam enough to show him how the stupid printer worked, he now keeps his favorite lewd picture of you in his wallet, because why not? It’s especially useful when you two have to be separated because you’re working on different cases or something of the sort.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Dean has obviously fucked around a lot (literally), countless of hookups under his belt. He definitely knows what he’s doing and he can be very annoying about it when he boasts.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

You on top of him is his favorite sight. His hands get to grab everywhere and he loves that he can focus on watching his cock slide in and out of you as you ride him.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Sex, for Dean, is fun. It’s a good time, where you get to enjoy each other and make each other feel amazing. If he can’t get a giggle or a smile out of you, he thinks he’s not doing his job right.

However, there are definitely occasions that call for a more serious mood. Such as intimate moments after a rough day, where he and you just want to unwind and feel each other.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Short answer: He keeps his pubic hair trimmed, but not completely shaved.

Long answer: There’s other body hair he treats differently. Over the years he’s developed light chest hair, which he sometimes bothers to shave. He keeps his happy trail, as he’s never thought about it. His thighs are somewhat hairy. His body hair sometimes has a little hint of red color mixed into it.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

Unfortunately there’s little room for the real big romantic settings, such as rose petals and lit candles around the bedroom. With life on the road for the most part, you have to make do with what you have. He tries to make each time as special as possible though, it’s always passionate.

Dean’s a big softie once he lets his guard down, which you manage with ease. Very verbal, huge on saying sweet nothings. Lots of kisses. Definitely likes holding or touching you throughout it all. If possible, not a sheet of paper will fit between you two.

Eye contact is his strong suit. Doesn’t matter what position you’re in or what you’re doing, he loves getting lost in your eyes. If you ever avert your gaze or close your eyes, he reminds you to keep them on him.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Dean, as a certified porn addict, beats his meat a lot. His libido is high and he can’t always come crawling to you, so he relies on trusty lube and his hand more often than he likes to admit.

Definitely has a fantasy of you walking in on him and lending him a helping hand.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Roleplay! Just the thought of you in a sexy costume gets him hard. You’d make him the happiest man alive if you greeted him in a nurse costume. He’d also be into a police officer costume, handcuffs included. It’s fun and it allows you two to play pretend for a bit.

Praise, both ways. He’s always gushing about how good you are, how amazing you feel, how pretty you look while you’re fucking. In return, he loves getting praised by you. Nothing fuels him more than pleasing you and he’s so eager for those compliments.

Food play, to some degree. He loves seeing your pretty mouth stuffed, lips wrapped around a sweet treat in seductive fashion. Or when he gets to lick whipped cream from your skin? Again, playful and fun.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

His favorite location for sex remains a bed (bedroom, motel, he’s not too picky in that regard), because there he can take his time with you.

Of course making sweet love to you in the backseat of his car is always an option, too. The way the Impala's windows fog up is addictive for him.

That said, he won’t say no to other options. Not an inch of the bunker has not been defiled by the two of you. Shower, kitchen, the table in the main hall, the library, even Sam’s room while he was out. You name it, he’s fucked you there at least once.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Dean Winchester’s mind runs dirty at the smallest things. It doesn’t take much to pop the idea into his head that he wants to bend you over the nearest furniture or pin you against the nearest wall to have his way with you.

When you’re in a grumpier mood – that might sound shitty, but hear me out: He loves your gruffier, feisty side, because it makes him wish he could make that tension in your shoulders melt under his touch. He wants to kiss that scowl away and make you see stars until you forget about why you were even mad in the first place. You are hot. You being angry is even hotter, and it’s like a challenge for him to do something about it. Plus, you could always take it out on him, dominate the shit out of him until you’re no longer pent up and frustrated.

What never fails to drive him absolutely crazy is you wearing his clothes. You in his shirt or jacket makes his heartbeat skyrocket and his dick rock hard. It awakens something primal and possessive within him.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

A hard no for him would be anything involving causing you (intense) pain. I’d go as far and say he’d not even be into spanking, unless it’s like a playful slap on your ass. He’s not even a fan of choking or biting you. He hates seeing you hurt and if things get too intense, it’ll only trigger memories of him being forced to torture others in hell. There's already enough blood and guilt on his hands.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Hear me out when I say earlier seasons Dean goes weak in the knees when you suck him off. Nothing more of an ego boost than you drooling over his cock.

Later seasons Dean though? He likes to give head like a starved man. Getting you off is a huge turn on for him and admittedly, you riding his face is a high that he can’t compare to anything else. He’ll use every part of his mouth, lips, tongue, teeth until your legs give out and he has to hold you against him.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the mood. He can do both, but he prefers slow and sensual. Dean loves taking his sweet time with you, worshiping every inch of your body. He wants to cherish the moment and really commit every detail to memory.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Again, proper and passionate sex is his preferred way to go. But even then he has a high sex drive and more often than not, you don’t have much time for anything but a quickie. Most of the time, actual proper sex is a luxury, so you make do with what you can.

If you two have to rush it, you might as well have fun with it: It’s turned into a challenge of how quickly he can make you come undone on his cock versus how long it’ll take for you to make him orgasm.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Leaning towards no. Referring back to the fact that he doesn’t like hurting you, he also doesn’t like putting you into danger. Safety comes first, otherwise it’s not enjoyable for him.

On the flipside, he’s experimental when it comes to new things. You wanna try out a new kink? Sure! He won’t say no to spicing up your sex life. Just nothing involving potential damage.

He definitely is risky when it comes to public spaces. Likes to steal touches, sometimes subtle, sometimes not so much. The thrill of potentially getting caught red handed with his fingers between your legs under the table? Fuck, yes.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He’s not done until you are.

Lasts an average time, but that doesn’t mean he can’t go for a round two. Or three. Or more, you get the idea. Unless the situation calls for anything out of the order, he makes sure to be gentleman enough to make you cum first. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Handcuffs for him, or anything to tie him up with, you can get creative, so long as you tease him until he’s a whimpering mess unable to touch you.

Once you pulled out a butt plug and initially he thought it was for you, but, oh, was he wrong. Since then it has turned into a regular part of your bedtime activities.

He’s not one to get jealous of a toy, so if you want to use anything to rile yourself up further, he sees it as an aid more than a competition. Plus, there’s something insanely arousing about seeing you play with yourself, whether it is with the help of a toy or not.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

More than anything he enjoys being on the receiving end of teasing. You can make him beg so prettily.

However, that’s during the sex itself. When it comes to working you up beforehand, he’s a master. Teasing touches, sultry words, dangerous spark in his eyes and a cheeky grin? He’s bold and he’s not afraid to bite off more than he can chew.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

If you want him to be, he can be so damn vocal. Big on the whimpering department if you dominate him. And, again, just as enthusiastic regarding sweet praise and dirty talk.

Other than that, he’s usually all heavy panting and grunting. Not so much moaning and screaming, that’s what he tries to make you do.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He knows it’s cliché, but he likes to turn on the record player when he has sex. Playing some music during the hanky panky makes the whole experience even better. His playlist, of course, consists mostly of classic rock, but he’s genuinely picked the more romantic songs. Nothing Else Matters by Metallica, Fool in the Rain by Led Zeppelin, Love in an Elevator by Aerosmith… you get the idea. After an especially passionate night to a whole LP of Led Zeppelin, he couldn’t help but flinch and turn bright red when the same songs started playing in his car the next day. Dean also made a mixtape just for the occasion as a gift for you.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

A good six and a half inches, about seven when he’s hard, in size and definitely on the thicker side in girth.

It’s smooth minus that one prominent vein on the underside.

Pink tip that turns even brighter when he’s aroused.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He broke the scale, Dean is one horny bastard.

He’s either going to town on you, much to the dismay of anyone else in the bunker, or he’s pent up most of the time.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After making sure you’re okay and putting in some effort to clean up (at least a little), he’s out like a light. Dean is a light sleeper, but the blissfully exhausted state he finds himself in after exerting himself makes him clock out. It takes everything from him to not just collapse on top of you and say hello to dreamland sometimes.

[girlokwhatever]

Emily engstler x passenger princess!reader go on a road trip

can be one shot/headcannon

emily engstler x passenger princess!gf hcs

˚ · .·˚ ༘*ೃ༄ʬ꩜ emily engstler and passenger princess gf on a roadtrip,,

— it’s……. so chaotic

— she’s trying to body slam all of your bags into the trunk while you sit and watch

- you always ask if she wants help but she says no.

— once the two of you finally get on the road she’s a little more relaxed

— her hand is immediately on some part of your body

- hand, shoulder, back of your neck, thighs, anywhere she can reach tbh

— you guys listen to sapphic music together!!

- she’s always giving you the aux 🤗

— if the roadtrip is late at night she gets really sappy for some reason

- always giving some love-drunk confession

- “i can’t wait to marry you.”

- “i always felt like green was your color baby.”

- “i love it when you hum.”

— “can i have a kiss?”

- “but you’re driving?”

- “doesn’t matter.”

— she ALWAYS insists on driving

— she also always tries to pack you snacks for the road and a blanket so you can be cozy

— “oh my god that fast food is making my car stink so bad.”

- “no im pretty sure that’s your attitude stinking it up in here.”

— you need to use the bathroom every hour…..

— windows down on summer days >>>>

— “you look so pretty right now.”

— if you brought a book to read she’ll ask if you can read it out loud

— “i’m so hungry i’m gonna eat you emily.”

- “i wouldn’t mind.”

— “baby don’t put your feet on the dash, that’s dangerous.”

— even though she packs you snacks you always end up getting something at the gas station or some fast food restaurant

— you always get out of the car with her at the gas station because you just want to hold and kiss her

- it’s been awhile and you miss her

— “can i get a chip please?”

- you feed it to her 🤗

— you guys play stupid games together to help the time pass

- “ok.. lemme think. oh! ok ok i got one. she’s a ten buuuuttttt she never brushes her teeth.”

- “ew what?! gross. zero. she’s a zero.”

— you’re always taking scenic photos

— sometimes you like to video the roadtrip just for cute memories

— “babe there’s something in the road..”

- “OH SHIT”

- “OH MY GOD OH MY FUCK! DONT SWERVE LIKE THAT EM.”

— “i forgot my water so im gonna drink some of yours.”

— she tries to keep you awake as long as possible but you falling asleep is just inevitable

- will talk your ear off anyway

— emily likes to take pictures of you when you fall asleep

- when she shows you said pictures you get mad because,

- “why are you on your phone if you’re driving.”

— “you look really cozy over there…”

- “i am. thanks for noticing.”

- gives you the most diabolical side-eye

— lets not talk about that time you teased her though……. iykyk

— she likes holding your hand and kissing your knuckles

- says it helps her focus

— you like holding her hand and playing with her fingers or tracing her tattoos

— “are we almost there?!”

— you always wear fluffy socks 🤗🤗🤗

— you guys always scream song lyrics together LMAO

— “that sign says tennessee but babe.. you’re the only ten i see.”

- “please never speak again.”

— you always lean the seat all the way back

- it pisses emily off LOL

— “babe i think you need to put your shoes back on.. somethings stinks..”

-……….

- “OW! babe i was just joking.”

˚ · .·˚ ༘*ೃ༄ʬ꩜

enjoy!!!

i had to make this twice cause i accidentally swiped out right as i finished it…….. 👹

[reidmoony-toast]

could you maybe do like a one shot of Spencer x Supermodel!fem reader? Like she does runways for super popular brands like Versace and Victoria’s Secret?

Radiant. ౨ৎ5

Spencer reid x fem supermodel!reader

content: established relationship, no use of y/n, spencer being down bad tbh, fluff

cw: Victoria's Secret show, so underwear yk (but no sexualising or anything)

wc: 2.3k

an: This is so exciting, hi first anon req!! I love you so much! Anyways this idea is amazing and I hope this is what you envisioned <3 This isn't my best work, but I tried 😭 Also I based the outfit off Karolina Kurkova's in a 2003 show, but its set in early season 7 soo forget that!

· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·

“Is that her?” Penelope whispers for the hundredth time.

“No.” He huffs, tired of answering the same question for the past ten minutes.

“Patience, babygirl.” Derek chuckles from Spencer's other side. “He'll tell us when she's here. Maybe not with his words, but definitely with his eyes.” Derek flutters his lashes in Spencer's direction, clearly making fun of him.

“Both of you leave me alone, please?” He pleads, sick of their antics. They haven't stopped talking, and it's putting him on edge. He wants to appreciate today. Appreciate you. 

You had been desperately hoping to get this job with Victoria's Secret for months, and you were ecstatic when news of your hire reached you through your manager. You'd been raving excitedly about it ever since, and had begged him to finally come to a show.

He obliged, of course. Partly, because he can't say no to you, and mostly because he has been eager to see you in your element ever since you two had started dating.

Now, he is buzzing in anticipation, which is definitely not helped by Morgan and Garcia's constant remarks.

It wouldn't have been his personal preference to invite them, but you'd insisted, saying it was about time you met Spencer's friends, anyways. 

The show continues, scantily clad girls strutting down the catwalk, angel wings attached to their backs and sequins blinding, but still, you were nowhere to be seen. Spencer fidgets, waiting with baited breath. 

A figure emerges from the side of the stage, turning to strut down the walkway. He freezes, shooting up in his chair from where he was previously slumped. It was you. Undeniably. He could pick you in a sea of people from a mile off, if it came to it. 

His breath hitches. He takes you in. 

There you stand, in all of your glory. He can't quite believe what he’s seeing. Sure, you're self-assured in your everyday life, but this is on a whole new level.

You radiate confidence, striding down the catwalk like you own it. Spencer is utterly captivated by this different side of you that he has never seen in person before.

Sure, he's seen endless pictures—and even some videos—of your modelling, as well as the shows that take place in the comfort of your home; when you put on outfits and strut down the long hallway of your apartment, to loud enthusiasm from Spencer.

These particular one-on-one shows usually end in you dressing in progressively more atrocious outfits, until you’re both prone from uncontrollable laughter.

But this. This was real. It all hits him then—that you are a supermodel, that you do this for a living. That this is your life. 

His chest swells with immense pride at all you have accomplished. You've worked so hard, built your career from the ground up, and it has paid off. Your dreams have finally come true, and now, you're modelling in a Victoria's Secret show, which he is told (by you, of course) is world-renowned. 

“That's her.” Derek concludes smugly, no uncertainty in his tone. Spencer shushes him loudly, eyes fixed solely on you.

You don't falter for a single step as you glide down the stage. You're clad in a sparkly silver bra that glints off the bright lights, sequined mesh sitting below the bra's edge. 

A small pair of matching silver underwear sit below your hips, a glittering garter to match. And, of course, the wings. They protrude from your back, spanning above your head, magnificent and ethereal. Spencer thinks you ought to have a halo to match. 

The feathered angel wings trail down your back, sweeping across the floor behind you as you make your way to the end of the catwalk. 

Garcia and Morgan are saying something across him—most likely about you—but he pays them no mind, not caring for anything else but you, in front of him.

As you near the end of the perilously long stage, Spencer's smile only grows, until he is beaming uncontrollably when you slow to strike your pose. 

Spencer and his company have VIP tickets, courtesy of you, so he has an unobstructed view of you, directly in front of where he is sitting. 

Your hands rest on your hips as you lock eyes with the sea of cameras frantically snapping pictures. 

You look fierce, fiery, and Spencer somehow grins harder. 

As your eyes scan the room, they easily lock on Spencer's, not even ten feet away. His eyes are wide, smile larger than life. 

His lips move, mouthing words to you that you instantly understand, and you light up, a warm glow from within. 

‘I love you’

The luminous smile remains, even when you remember your surroundings. You pose again, grinning all the while and the crowd claps while shutters click incessantly. You pivot, sashaying off, but not before looking back over your shoulder to blow a cheeky kiss in Spencer's direction, winking.

It might just be Spencer's perception, but you seem to shimmer with incandescent light, like your very soul was set aflame with a soft fire. You are radiantly gorgeous—utterly perfect in the eyes of Spencer Reid.

The wink you sent over your shoulder makes him duck his head, face and ears bright red. He is the luckiest man in the world. To have you, all to himself. 

He is still grinning, even as you disappear around the corner. Maybe he is biassed (most certainly), but you were by far the most captivating model up there. Your every move seemed effortless—practised and perfected. 

You drew the attention of everyone, and you kept it. It felt as if the whole room had held its breath as you passed, too busy watching to remember how to breathe. 

Maybe that was just his singular experience. He wouldn't know, and he doesn't particularly care. 

As the show wraps up, Garcia and Morgan are raving—about you. 

“Spencer, I can't believe she is your girlfriend! She is absolutely stunning!” Penny gushes.

The first statement hurts him a little, like everyone thinks he can't possibly be dating a pretty model—but it's definitely true. The second statement, however, is the truest thing he's ever heard in his 29 years of life. 

Spencer chooses not to respond to Penelope, instead heading for the exit. They follow, and Morgan claps him on the back. “You're one lucky man, pretty boy.” He whistles suggestively, and Spencer brushes off his hand, mumbling something under his breath as he is suddenly interested in the craftsmanship of the venue floor. 

He found this hard. Blending his work and home life, introducing you to his family. It's not that he's worried they won't like you—that’s impossible, when it comes to you—it's more that he has trouble combining the two sides of his life in his head, given the fact that he is almost two different people in each. 

He doesn't bring his work home, and he doesn't bring his home to work—mostly. He does, sometimes (too often), ramble on about you and how downright amazing you are. He's only human, after all. 

Mostly, he's scared that it will be a mistake, that the two sides will end up being better off separate, that mixing the two now will have irreparable consequences. 

But, you wanted to, so he’s taking the plunge. For you. Always for you. 

~☆~

Spencer feels like he shouldn't be here. They're in the very depths of the building; models, designers and beauticians alike flit past them, paying them no mind as they go about their business.

He glances over his shoulder at the ajar door that leads to the dressing rooms every couple of seconds, in case you come through and save him from this place—which is the polar opposite to everything that makes him comfortable.

He's here for you, though, and he would endure this for you. Only for you. 

Morgan and Penelope stand a few feet away, at ease and chatting like this is the most normal situation in the world, like they've been backstage at thousands of Victoria's Secret shows.

Just as he's about to go into a nervous breakdown, he sees a flash of movement appear from behind the door. 

“Spence!” A shriek sounds as he turns to see you, bounding towards him. You throw your arms around his neck, nuzzling his cheek.

His hands come up to steady you, curling under the hem of your sweater. He feels instantly less overwhelmed, breathing you in like you're the oxygen he needs to live—like he can’t breathe properly when you’re not near.

You're draped in an oversized knit and comfortable track pants that engulf your frame. The irony wasn't lost on him—you were wearing nothing but showy undergarments not even half an hour ago. 

He loves that about you. That you aren't entirely defined by your job, that you have a part of your life and sense of self cordoned off; a part that isn't affected by the insane world of modelling. He loves that you can be yourself in so many different ways, that you have all these different facets. Just like a diamond, whose sides are all different, but every single one shines just as brightly all the same.

It inspires him to do the same for himself, to have a true self outside of his chaotic job that takes over most of his life. You’ve helped him see that life can be varied, diverse; that there are so many different things—other than one's job—that can make you feel fulfilled. Content. Happy. 

He's happy; truely and vibrantly happy with you. And that is the way he wishes it to stay. 

He chuckles amusedly at your strong display of affection. “Hello to you too, lovely.” 

You pull back to grin at him, albeit a little sheepishly. “Sorry. I'm just so happy you're actually here.” 

His gaze softens impossibly more. “It was long overdue.” He cups your cheeks and leans down to press a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “You were phenomenal.” 

You beam, and draw him closer.

The clearing of a throat brings you out of your reverie, out of the world where there is only the two of you. 

You pull away, detaching yourself from Spencer, eyes flashing with delight. “Hi!” You wave at a shocked-yet-amused Derek Morgan, and an exuberant Penelope Garcia. 

Derek raises his eyebrow at Spencer, probably surprised by how little he cared about your public display of affection. He usually doesn’t even let Garcia hug him unless it’s important. But, like with everything else, you’re different—special. He simply shrugs back. 

“You must be the friends Spence has told me so much about.” She reaches out a hand to shake Morgan's hand. “Derek, right?” 

Derek smirks, “In the flesh.” He grasps your hand, grip firm. “The show was amazing, by the way.” 

“Thank you!” You chirp, brightening further, and Morgan huffs out a laugh.

You pull away, turning to the eclectic women next to him. “And you, must be the famous Penelope.” 

You reach out your hand once more, but Garcia has other ideas. She dives in for a hug, bypassing the formalities immediately.

She pulls away abruptly as you squeak in surprise. “Oh- sorry! I'm sorry.” She blurts out. “I'm just so happy to meet you, finally! Reid has told us so much about you, I just couldn't wait any longer!” She grins broadly. “And you're even prettier than he described, which I don't understand how that's humanly possible, because boy genius over there won't stop talking about how gorgeous you-”

“Woah there, baby girl, slow your roll.” Derek interrupts, patting Garcia gently on the shoulder. You stifle a laugh, glancing at Spencer. He ducks his head, avoiding your eye and shuffling from one foot to another as his face turns pink.

“Sorry!” Penelope flushes scarlet red. “Uhm… what I meant was ‘nice to meet you’.” She cringes at her outburst. 

“No need to say sorry. It's an absolute pleasure to meet the both of you, Spence speaks so highly of you two.” You beam, and Garcia deflates in relief. Spencer’s arm snakes around your waist and under the hem of your sweater once again, smoothing patterns on your bare skin. You lean into his side, a contented sigh escaping your lips. 

“You know, when boy genius here told me he was dating a supermodel, I didn't believe him.” He raises eyebrows, smirking. “But, here you are.” 

“In the flesh.” You flash him a grin, parroting back his own words. He lets out a chuckle. 

“Why is it so unbelievable?” Spencer complains incredulously.

They all laugh at his words, and he hangs his head, sighing dejectedly. You pat him on the chest in consolation.

All of Spencer’s fears are quickly doused as a lively conversation starts up between you and his friends. He doesn’t know why he worried, like if they met everyone would self-combust. No, this was going fine. More than fine, even. 

His breathing slows, sure and steady, and he just watches. Watches you speak animatedly, with a delighted glint in your eye, clearly enjoying Penelope and Derek’s presence. And his friends, his family, seemed to be enjoying her just as much, which he obviously isn’t surprised about, but still fills him with relief. It was okay. It was all going to be perfectly okay.

“How does some dinner sound?” You ask the group, just as Spencer tunes back in.

Penelope claps her hands together, “Yes! I have the perfect place.” 

“Sounds good to me.” Derek replies. “If lover boy is coming, of course. I can't wait to tell lover girl, here, all the embarrassing stories at his expense.” 

Spencer groans, but follows Garcia as she heads towards the door. You just laugh. 

Spencer pinches your side from where you're still tucked under his arm and you yelp. This time, he's the one letting out a quiet chuckle, and you roll your eyes. 

“Come on genius, lead the way.” You look up expectedly from under his arm.

“Anything for you.” He simply replies, wrapping himself around you tighter, before guiding the both of you towards the door.

· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·

Thank you for reading, feedback is appriciated x

Tags: @reidology13 @reidmania <3 - Comment to be added!

Masterlist ౨ৎ

[sheoh]

Who in Ateez Is Most Gentle In Bed? 

Gentle  

San

Yeosang 

Jongho 

Seonghwa 

Mingi 

Hongjoong 

Yunho 

Wooyoung 

Rough

I truly believe San would be the most gentle lover. He would never want to hurt you EVER. especially during sex. I feel like even if you asked him to be a little rough with you he’d be VERY hesitant, or at least a little awkward as he attempted to regulate exactly how much strength you could take. you'd have to really communicate with him about it because he knows his strength could possibly really hurt you. Sometimes when you are making out he’d be a little forward or rough (the kind to push you up against the wall but protect your head and neck the entire time) he’d always take extra care to not inflict any pain on you. When kissing, San likes to put his hand over your throat, but he never implements a significant amount of strength. It kinda sits there teasing you, leaving you wanting more. he would find it cute if you did it to him but a little rougher (to show him how you actually wanted it) and ultimately wouldn't go through with it tbh lol. he likes the idea of exerting power over you but is extremely gentle in his way of doing it. When you're riding him and he’s close to cumming, he’d debate losing control, flipping you right on your back and fucking you hard and fast just to please himself (which he might just do if the atmosphere is right) but he always puts your pleasure and comfort over his own. if he notices that you're enjoying yourself, he will likely just squeeze your ass, praise you for doing so well between open-mouthed moans and roll his eyes back while you milk his cock slow and steady. 

Yeosang is naturally a very gentle person. I feel like that wouldn’t change much even with his partner. He’d acknowledge that sex doesn’t always have to be slow and gentle and take into consideration your wants as his partner. when you reach a certain point in the relationship he'd almost expect to start fucking baselessly for pleasure rather than to have a deeper connection—ofc he would never directly bring this up, and if it didn't happen he would think he was doing something wrong. He’d find himself slowly being more rough with you to see the reaction it draws out. Things like pushing your hips all the way down while you’re riding him and holding them there for a few seconds too long. Unlike San, who has sex in an intimate, gentle, and loving way most of the time, Yeosang feels that pleasurable sex is both gentle and rough and desires both sides. Whatever you’re comfortable with, so is he—but it’ll take some time for him to open up sexually and be rough with you for the sake of his own needs. His “rough side” is pretty low-key. He isn’t too freaky but I can see him being into things that exert his strength and masculinity. Like lifting you up and down on his cock while standing or you on your knees in front of him, in pretty lingerie giving him head. I can definitely see him grabbing your hair and guiding your head back and forth on his dick. 

Jongho is very aware of how strong he is and what he can do to you. He’s not necessarily overly rough or overly gentle with you. But he’s definitely not afraid to play fight with you and show you who's the stronger one. I believe Jongho is just a gentle person in general. His strength is very fixed so whether he’s angered or reaching his climax inside you, it’s rare for him to “lose control” or be rough on accident. I don’t think he likes hurting you in any way during sex, he might even be opposed to it. He would consider it if you asked him but as far as feeling pleasure from it-- isn’t necessarily his thing. If you got off on it, he’d be more into the fact that you are. Wrapping his hand around your throat during your high, and forcefully holding your hands behind your back as he gave you back shots are things he’d try but I just think he likes the idea of gentle loving sex more. The reason he’s under Yeosang, despite not really being into it as much, is because he could seriously fuck you senseless if he wanted. He has the control to give you exactly what you want, and well.

Just like San, Seonghwa is very gentle towards his lover. But unlike San, he’s down and very open to the freaky stuff. If you want to do it, so does he. I don’t see him ever being purposely rough with you unless you directly asked him and he knew you’d return the same energy. Even when he’s at his climax about to cum, a whimpering mess on top of you, he’d find himself holding back a bit. Putting in the effort to pleasure you without expecting you to do it in return. gripping the sheets instead of your hair as you suck him off (unless ofc you wanted him to). I can see him holding back your hair while you give him head, staring down so intently at your lips as they wrapped around his cock. The type to touch your body like it was made of glass, but fuck and eat you out like you are anything but. Seonghwa is a very gentle person too but he likes being able to be rough with you and try new things sexually. 

Mingi is kind of laid back when it comes to the physical and sexual side of a relationship. Things like caressing your thigh, kissing your neck, or just touching you all the time is his love language and aren’t always meant to be sexual. Which is why it’s sometimes hard to tell when he’s horny or just harmlessly flirting. Those kisses and touches come naturally during sex with him because it is nothing new. But of course, when he’s more aroused he tends to be unconsciously rougher—kissing you passionately instead of lazily, tightening his grip on your waist harder and harder as you grind on his erection—and being overly gentle with you after he realizes what he was doing. Mingi is seriously a gentle giant but when he’s comfortable enough, being playful or in the moment, he can sometimes forget how much strength he has and how easily he can break you. I don't think he likes being rough but it does happen whether he intends or not. I can't see him going as far as to choke you or use sex toys. rather something low-key like biting you or completely slam-dunking you onto the bed in attempts to impress you. He doesn't like you being overly rough with him either. like hair pulling or scratching his back so hard you leave marks because he is a princess after all.

Hongjoong isn't exactly rough or gentle–somewhere in between. He does like exerting dominance during sex though, which may lead to him being more bossy or rough. but naturally, he’s pretty sensual and wants you both to be relaxed and comfortable. When experimenting sexually with him, which happens quite often, he tends to talk you through it and ask how he's doing. If you want it rougher he’ll go rougher, but if it's too much for you he’ll stop immediately, ask if you’re ok, and take a mental note. Communication is key with him, you have to tell him what you want and he'll do whatever pleases you. I don't think Hongjoong particularly likes or even considers receiving/giving pain during sex, but he is sometimes (accidentally) a little rough. When he pushes your legs open a little too harshly to go down on you or is about to cum and begins franticly pounding into you from his once steady pace. he is a bit confused as to why you wanted him to do it more, but he actually lowkey likes it. he finds himself liking the feeling of you doing exactly what he says. sitting down and opening your mouth for his cock exactly when he tells you. Again, this dominance can lead to him being rougher with you but it's not on purpose...i don't think

Yunho has a lot of layers in a relationship. His more sensual side is particularly special because it’s something you rarely see. I don’t think Yunho is overly gentle but I do think he's aware of his size and strength enough to never accidentally use it during an intimate time like sex. In moments when he thinks you’d like it a bit rougher, he’d play along. I think he might even enjoy being rough with you and the power he has doing it. Using his body to pin you down on the bed, using his strength to stop you from getting off his lap bc he wants you to stay longer, using his significantly larger hands to pin them above your head as he kisses you. Yunho is possessive and takes that out on you in bed especially. Yunho sees sex as mainly something to fulfill pleasure, so jealous sex, sex after being away from each other for a while, and sex after a fancy dinner date when you're all dressed up–are things that really get him going and more rough and needy for you. When you tell him to go rougher he’d do it without hesitation. Tell him to choke you and he’d flash a smirk down at you before wrapping his large hands over your throat and squeezing. He’d continue to be rough with you unless you say otherwise but he knows your limits and is very careful not to go too far. 

Last but not least our sadist Wooyoung. He’s not gentle in bed. He loves when you’re rough with him and acts rough with you in return. He loves fucking you so hard and fast from the back and slapping your ass as you moan out his name. He likes when you yell and whine to him about something stupid he did just so he can apologize by giving you the sloppiest head of your life. Pull his hair, tell him to wrap his hands around your throat and he’ll get off on watching you and seeing just how much you can take before you "admit defeat". for toys and kinky objects I can see him wanting to try them if you like or dislike them. The only time I see him being gentle in particular is when eating you out, he would be gentle and sensual, trying to tease you and make you beg him to go faster and harder—ofc he he won’t do it. but this doesn’t always happen, he’ll often moan into sloppy wet kisses on your cunt, move his fingers quickly in and out of you, grip your thighs so hard to keep you still it leaves marks. He’d sometimes kiss you gently and slowly when the kiss isn’t really leading to anything. If you got him a gift for his birthday, he’d thank you with the sweetest, slowest, most gentle kiss. You feel so much when he kisses you like this because it doesn’t happen often.

[dinodaweeb]

Deadly Indifference | one-shot

Deadpool X M!Reader

tw: swearing, mentions of sew a slide thoughts (from both tbh)

Summary: Deadpool wants you to show emotion. (And bugs the crap out of you.)

You sat tied to a chair, remarkably composed despite the circumstances. It’s been your third time getting kidnapped this week and it’s only Tuesday. The man who kidnapped you must’ve died already because a man in red and black walked through the door. He mimed the motion of up and down that you felt too familiar to notice.

“Hey there, buddy,” Deadpool chimed cheerfully, pacing around you. The ropes that tied your wrists to the chair felt surprisingly loose.“You know, most people would be sweating their balls off right about now. But, you’re just chillin’. I like that.”

You glanced up at him with a mild shrug, a gesture that only seemed to fuel Deadpool’s curiosity.

He’s a chatterbox.

“I gotta admit,” Deadpool continued, leaning in close with an exaggerated whisper, his mouth touching your ear. “I’m kinda into this whole ‘I don’t give a crap if Deadpool kills me’ vibe you’ve got going on. It’s refreshing. It’s… kinda hot.”

You raised an eyebrow, your expression betraying a hint of amusement. What is he even saying?

“Are we gonna do this or what?” you asked, your voice flat.

Deadpool stepped back, putting a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Wow, straight to the point! I like it. No foreplay, just bam, let’s get this show on the road. Alright, let’s see if I can make you squeal.”

“Good luck with that,” you replied dryly.

“Okay, tough guy,” Deadpool muttered, starting to circle you with exaggerated steps. “You know, most people are all ‘Oh no, Deadpool, please don’t hurt me! I have a family!’” He gave a side eye (somehow?) through the mask. Or they’ll say ‘No, I haven’t closed my tabs and my web browser history isn’t deleted!’ But you, you’re just sitting there like you’re waiting for your Uber Eats.”

“I did order some food before I got kidnapped,” you replied. “It might be waiting outside.”

Deadpool paused, tilting his head. “What did you get?”

“Chimichangas,” you said with a faint hunger in your eyes.

Deadpool’s eyes widened behind his mask. “You’re serious?”

“Yep. Thought I’d try them out.”

Deadpool’s posture relaxed, and he leaned against the back of your chair. Putting his arm on top of your head like you’ve been childhood best friends. “You know, I like you. You’ve got style. Most people don’t appreciate a good chimichanga.”

He said, as if he wasn’t trying to kill you two minutes prior.

“Are we going somewhere with this?” you asked, your tone still indifferent. You brought this question up a second time. Was he still trying to kill you?

“Right, right, getting sidetracked,” Deadpool said, snapping back to the task at hand. “So, here’s the deal: I’m gonna try and scare the crap out of you, and you’re gonna react like a normal human being. Got it?”

“Sure,” you agreed, not sounding convinced.

“Alright!” Deadpool clapped his hands together. “Let’s start with something simple. How about… I cut off a finger?”

You held up your hand, which was still loosely tied. “You gonna untie me first, or do I do it myself?”

Deadpool rolled his eyes. “You’re really killing the vibe here, you know that?”

You shrugged again. “Look, man, it’s been a long week. Just get on with it.”

Deadpool sighed dramatically. “Okay, okay. Plan B.” He suddenly leaned in close, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “We are going to start an only fans.”

You looked at him, deadpan. “Seriously? No one is going to pay for that shit.”

“Hey, people totally dig the whole “I got kidnapped by a hot anti-hero and now I’m slowly falling for them.” Deadpool retorted, pointing at the screen, hoping whoever reading this did not have a watt pad phase.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered.

“You’re right,” Deadpool said, standing up straight and tossing the a coin aside. “You know what? You’re impossible to scare. So, I’m gonna make you wish you’d never crossed paths with me.”

Without warning, he drew one of his katanas and sliced a shallow cut across your cheek. The cold steel was sharp, precise, and for the first time, you felt a sting of pain.

The burn of cut flesh.

“Finally,” you muttered, almost relieved.

Deadpool noticed the change in your eyes—the hint of happiness, the glimmer of anticipation. He smirked under his mask, raising the blade as if to deliver the final blow.

You closed your eyes, ready to embrace the end. But then, nothing.

You opened your eyes to find Deadpool standing there, the blade poised but unmoving. He tilted his head, studying your reaction.

“Aw, were you actually looking forward to that?” Deadpool asked, his tone mockingly sweet.

Your expression darkened, and anger flared in your eyes. “You…”

Deadpool sheathed his katana, chuckling. “Gotcha. ❤︎ Think I’m going to let you die? Nah, you’re my new piss boy!”

“You are such an ass,” you snapped, genuinely pissed off now.

Deadpool laughed heartily, clearly enjoying your frustration. “Finally! A reaction! See? I knew you had it in you.”

He ruffled your disheveled hair. “Who’s a good boy?”

You glared at him, what a loser. “Actually fucking kill yourself.”

“Not today,” Deadpool said, still chuckling. He untied your ropes with a flourish. “Let’s go get those chimichangas.”

As the two of you headed out of the warehouse, you couldn’t help but shake your head at the absurdity of it all. Were you getting kidnapped again? Did it count if you voluntarily? Would Deadpool ever shut up and just kill you?

“So,” Deadpool said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “How’s your spice tolerance?”

“Depends,” you replied. “Are you paying?”

“You wish.” Deadpool chuckled.

Bitch.

a/n: Lowkey kinda cringed. But eh. Can’t wait for the deadpool and wolverine movie to come out so I can write for the two of them. (making out) feel free to request :)

[running-with-kn1ves]

Congrats on 5k!!! Can we get the possessive facetime bf and "you should have known better than to cheat on me" please :D

A/N: Thank you! And tbh I made this a smutty smut smut as well b/c i feel like this is how possessive bf would handle the situation. Aka poorly.

CW: dubcon NSFW, gagging & bondage, penetration (GN Reader), reader flirts w/ someone else, reader & possessive bf originally both intoxicated

It was too late for this. Or maybe, too early. You lost track of time long ago, glowy green numbers on your alarm clock reading 1:45 AM when you first stumbled back home with the pissed drunkard beside you, dragging you inside by your arm. You were practically sober now, your headache screaming as you felt the blissful simplicity of being tipsy leave your throat. You wish you drank more, did something more outrageous than give some stranger your number. Maybe you should’ve kissed him, should’ve stuck your hand down his pants instead of batting your eyelashes. Maybe then, you wouldn’t have to face your boyfriend’s wrath-- he’d have been too heartbroken to even think of reprimanding you. 

But it didn’t matter now, not when he decided to deprive you of your senses while pumping round after round inside of you. It was a form of white torture, he hystericaly answered when your arms were jerked behind you, tied with what you thought might’ve been a makeshift restraint or a necktie, but was instead harsh braided rope meant for cattle or ransom victims. It scratched your wrists as he pulled your head back by a fistful of hair, promising that “you’ll be begging for his forgiveness by the end of this.”

With the blindfold he seemed much too prepared to have wrapped around your eyes, Malachi ripped off your skimpy underwear meant for the club, stuffing it in your mouth and narrowly avoiding your biting teeth. 

When you both went to celebrate his cousin’s birthday party at a nightclub, you had partly decided to ignore him for treating you so possessively the past month, logic being thrown out the window with the sudden accompaniment of lemon drop shots and a handsome stranger showing you more interest than your jealous, pissed off boyfriend had in ages. You felt wanted, desired. It was nice, even when you felt daggers in your back, and a tugging hand on your shoulder every five minutes. The last straw was when you wrote your scribbled, illegible phone number on the strangers’ arm. 

Saying Malachi was enraged was an understatement. You were jerked away, stumbling and laughing as you blew a kiss to your midnight affair. Did you want more? You didn’t know. All you knew, is you wanted a fun night out without having to cater to your obsessive boyfriend’s every need. You wanted to feel sexy, lusted after. 

But maybe you should’ve pulled that stunt at a time when Malachi wasn’t around. Then, you wouldn’t be sobbing behind the gag, hearing the wet squelches of cock being bullied inside of you. Your insides felt bruised, nipples tugged and bitten as Malachi slamed in, in, in from below. 

Normally, you’d have the power when sitting on top of him, grinding and allowing him to lay limp. But with your thighs spread apart on his flank, hands against your ass and every sense blurred, he thrusted into you as you barely held yourself up. 

“This.. is.. what.. you get--!” He huffed, snarling as he slapped the growing welt on your ass cheek. You heard his gasped gag, hips stuttering with his broken orgasm splaying inside of you. 

Which orgasm was this? You couldn’t remember, the vibrating toy milking out your sweet spot still going as a mixture of clear-white came to coat Malachi’s dick. He hadn’t eased you in, hadn’t given into the foreplay he’d usually tease you with, even when he normally hate-fucked you. 

“You know better..hng, been taught, time, and time again… hah,” You tried to squeeze your legs shut to keep him out, but the hands keeping you lifted moved to violently pull your knees apart. You fell onto his chest with a choke, the sweat dripping from your cheeks mixing with the caked layer on his chest. “You’re just making it too easy for me to punish you, huh?”

You muffled through the gag, prating incomprehensibly as the painful overstim of your lower half was worsened by this new, weak position. 

Malachi lazily rutted up into you while coming off his high, pressing your hips down each time to enter deeper. He always went to the hilt of his cock, so deep inside that it made your walls ache and splinter. 

“I’d almost say you’re a masochist fr’me,” He panted, lifting you by the jaw to look into his eyes. “ Wanna be pounded by me for flirting with other guys, cheatin like a common streetwalker, mm’?”

You shook your head, unable to see him but knowing those green eyes were boring into you. 

“Seems like you still don’t fucking get it then. Well, we’ll be here until you do.” 

The gag was pushed deeper down your throat with his thumb, hips rising as he let go of spreading your cheeks to stabilize you. Skin smacked against skin as he pounded up, letting your poor hips fall each time he burrowed out. 

“I can’t!” You muffled, the tight pain of another rising orgasm coming beginning to blind you. You couldn’t take this one, your body wouldn’t be able to handle it. 

Attempting to slide off, you tried to maneuver your legs away, arms still bound as you struggled to inch off of him. If he was as tired as you, maybe you’d get a chance away. 

“Oh no you don’t,” He growled, digging blunt nails into the fat of your thighs with one hand, while the other tugged at your scalp. “Think you get to rest? Get a chance to relax after cheating on me?”

The encircling vibrator was turned up tenfold with the sudden drop of your hair, fingers moving to tug at your ear. “No way, not leaving until I THINK you’ve suffered enough.” 

Malachi got close, licking a long stripe inside its canal as he jutted into your weeping entrance faster. The squeaks of the mattress made you cringe, hearing the wetness of his cum layering between your ass and thighs, falling to the sweaty sheets. 

His heaves for air grew louder, pushing your shoulders back to force you upright again. You still slouched, even with Malachi’s arm tugging your restrained hands down backwards. 

“Gonna take my cock like the.. Hungry whore you’ve been..take it till you’re sorry. And even then, Hah…” He laughed, a pissed and out of breath laugh that made him work harder to bruise your furiously drenched hole. “--still won’t stop cumming inside of you.”

You could only crack a groan each time his hips snapped up, in rhythm with his movement as you felt the vibrator bring you to the brink of another painful, consuming orgasm. Tears and drool dripped from your face alike as you prayed for him to nearly have his fix, lest you pass out from the ecstasy and suffering of another round. Atleast it wasn’t another painful edge session, your hazy mind tried to comprehend. Though at this point, you wondered if that’d have been better. 

“Waz.. Mnph, Drunk..” You tried to choke from the bundled up gag, hoping maybe he’d offer you some sympathy out of your previous lack of inhibition. 

“Sorry, baby. Doesn’t matter, still actin like you wanna fuck other guys n’ front of me,” He circled his hips upward, watching as your already open mouth created a sweet ‘O.’ You couldn’t help the noises you released anymore, not when he used what you liked and abused it--  but your moans seemed to satisfy Malachi.  “But you ready to say you’re sorry? Make it up to me, yeah?”

You nodded your head erratically,, wanting this to end no matter what you had to do. You were exhausted, the lessening vibrator making you sigh in relief despite the aching bruising still inflamed by the plunging cock hilted inside of you.

“Awe, you’re so cute. It’s not enough, though. Say sorry all you want, I wanna hear you.” The evil trick of the calming vibrator had snuffed your awareness, making you jolt when it was snapped back to a level 10. “But I’m not letting you off the hook when you still got so much left to pay for.”