#like my brain is just full of thoughts of him losing his mind from seeing and feeling eyes on him all the time that no one else can see
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lovelylotusf1 · 3 days ago
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yukierre + marking/possessiveness
rubs hands evilly
Baby's first yukierre! i turned this around in my brain a little too much, which is why it took so long, sorry! Hope you like it <3
(For the kink prompts, feel free to send some!)
“Be careful, Yukino,” Pierre says, clawing at Yuki's back, fingers digging into the fabric of Yuki's shirt like a cat attacking its owner after showing its belly. Like he isn't sure whether he'll actually allow Yuki to do this.
Above him, Yuki rolls his eyes. “You wouldn't die from hickeys. You give them to me all the time and I am not dead.”
Pierre snorts. It lightens the charged air around them a little bit, the way they can still joke around when Yuki is basically straddling him.
“You are scaring me, Yuki. Now I think you will kill me. Maybe you are poisonous like a snake.”
Yuki laughs. “Don't be stupid, Pierre. Or do you wish to admit that you're a chicken and a liar. Saying you would do this when you lose and then not doing it.”
Pierre shuts up quickly after that. He hates and loves how Yuki knows him this well, knows that playing off of Pierre's ego is the best way to get him to do something.
The thing is, this whole thing was meant as a joke. A stupid challenge Pierre thought he would win no matter what. Whoever wins their golf match gets to mark the other up. Of course Pierre thought he would win, else he wouldn't have challenged Yuki in the first place.
But now he's here, heart hammering in his chest and cock twitching pathetically in his pants just at the thought of what's about to happen.
Yuki leans down and Pierre gasps as he feels the wetness of Yuki's mouth against his neck. Instinctively, he tilts his head back to give Yuki better access. And lets out a high whine when Yuki sucks the first mark of the evening into his skin.
Yuki’s not careful about it. He immediately goes all in, the same way as he races. Sees the gap and goes for it, full throttle. The gap in this situation being Pierre going slack, melting into the soft mattress and letting out needy sounds he never thought he could make.
Liquid fire runs through Pierre's veins when he hears himself, rushing up to his face to match the colour of his newly acquired hickeys. Every lick and bite at his neck is another zap of electricity travelling through him, and his hips start moving all by themselves.
“You like that?” Yuki asks as if Pierre isn't unabashedly rubbing his cock against Yuki's ass. As if Pierre isn't whimpering like he's going to fall apart any second now.
“Shut uh—” Pierre’s words teeter off into a loud moan as Yuki places another hickey right over his collarbone.
Yuki smiles at him, and out of all of Yuki's smiles that Pierre has memorised like a well-loved book, none of them have had this pure hunger to them. “You like everyone knowing you're mine?”
And oh. Pierre hadn't let himself go there.
Sure, he likes people knowing that Yuki belongs to him. Likes to throw his arms around him in public, to put him in headlocks, to grab him and squeeze him and make him laugh the way he only does with Pierre. But until now, Pierre had pushed the thought of him being the one who Yuki is possessive over to the back of his mind.
Pierre keens, arching his back and pressing Yuki closer at the same time. Imagines how he must look right now, blushing and desperate, skin blooming with red and purple marks. Letting everyone know that he's taken. That he belongs to Yuki.
“Pierre, I asked something.”
Pierre groans. “Yes. Yes I like it.”
As if to reward him, Yuki licks a wet stripe over his neck before he bites down once more. Maybe he found a spot that isn't marked already. Maybe he won't stop until there is no place left on Pierre's skin that's untouched by Yuki. Pierre makes a strangled noise.
Yuki pulls away with a pop, a string of spit connecting his mouth to Pierre's skin. “But if you enjoy it, then it isn’t really a punishment for losing. It's a bit unfair.”
Pierre's head has started spinning so fast, he doesn't quite comprehend what Yuki is saying. For a second, he thinks that maybe Yuki slipped into Japanese before Pierre's brain finally catches up with what Yuki wants.
It takes him longer than he would have liked to form a coherent sentence that's more than just quiet whimpers. And still, he ends up sounding whiny and out of breath. “But that is what we said. You cannot change the terms, Yukino.”
“I could,” Yuki replies. “And maybe I could fuck you this time. Isn't this also marking? What do you say?”
Yuki sounds so nonchalant. As if he's talking about a new kind of sushi he tried out today and not as if he tilted Pierre's entire world on its axis.
Still, all Pierre can do is moan and nod. And spread his legs so Yuki knows his answer.
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lemonstars8583 · 2 days ago
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hello 😈😈 uhh ppl are gonna see this and be like “huh” but i don’t ❤️ care very much at all ❤️
so remember that CTW AU is posted abt well here’s where bonbon is 😭 !! hooraaay!!
there’s that weird minigame in into the pit (the game) that has bonbon so i was like okay in this AU millie isn’t even dead so like. that minigame wouldn’t exist but what if… bonbon… in real life instead..
so Oswald finds bonbon deactivated in the weird ballpit world (and yes i have an explanation for this i’ll leave it under the cut as well as some extra info), accidentally wakes him up, and bonbon does not fucking like him but he’s like “okay you’ve been here before and left?? let’s make a deal i’ll help you survive and you get me the fuck out of here”. so it’s like a reluctant alliance turned eventual friendship.
TLDR: Freddy gets in a fight with baby, badly injured, thrown out, taken in by Jeff’s Pizza when it was a bit more popular, kids climb on him daily and eventually break his arm off, bonbon falls into ballpit and freddy can’t find him. he gets thrown out again because kids have trashed him. a few years pass while he’s stuck in the junkyard and bonbon is unconscious in the ballpit world in the past. Oswald finds him and they
If that sounded interesting here’s the full ramble ⬇️⬇️
Considering one of bonbon’s functional purposes on funtime freddy being a lookout (bonbon is described as “parental tracking/360 pivot” on freddy’s blueprints.) I think he’d use that to help Oswald and act as a lookout, keeping track of where threats are and informing him when one’s coming closer and from what direction. he would try to trick him sometimes out of pure mischief though.
also i think bonbon himself probably wouldn’t have that “kill kids when they’re alone” programming just because he’s so small so he wouldn’t get the job done quickly, he would probably only tell freddy “hey nobody’s around, get that kid” so with freddy not even there he isn’t much of a threat to Oswald unless he chooses to be.
AAANYWAY how bonbon got in the ballpit ❤️ keep in mind a lot of this is entirely from my brain. at this point we’re getting into “entirely canon divergent” levels of AU so be warned
i thought it would be funny if freddy and cb got into a fight and cb just beat the shit out of him. based on 2 things: 1. the fight when they kicked baby out of the ennard hivemind and 2. a roblox rp i was in 😭😭 LOLL it wasn’t a serious rp (at least not on my end, i think the person playing CB was being for real) but it was so funny i loved it
SO anyway i figured the only reason they were able to beat baby was because it was all the funtimes working together and because they were kind of all equally distributed in ennard. i think if it was just funtime freddy trying to fight circus baby he would 100% lose she’s like a foot taller than him
so freddy gets his shit rocked, and management is like “we’re done with this guy he sucks” and throws him out. Jeff’s Pizza picks him up like “hell yeah weird mascot thing” and puts him in the ballpit room to stand there and let kids climb on him. eventually because he’s still pretty broken his arm breaks off from the weight of a bunch of kids hanging on it and it falls into the ballpit. later on he goes looking for his arm and bonbon and can’t find either of them.
the pizza place ends up throwing him out because the kids are just trashing him and he ends up in the junkyard where millie’s grandpa finds him years later. I’d imagine in that time he would become an urban legend of sorts, wandering around looking for things nobody can find, and taking the life of the occasional kid who’s out past their bedtime. He’d become more jaded and cynical instead of his former silly self during this time too.
HI GUYS FUTURE LEMON HERE i had this in drafts and now im looking at it again. there’s a detail i forgot! while time passes in the ballpit world, no time passes in the real world 😃 fuck! SOO that kinda fucks this story up but ALSO. this is an AU. i can do what i want. and i don’t think the story will be too horribly affected if i just disregard that? so that’s what im doing 👍
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the-blathermouth · 2 years ago
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sosa2imagines · 2 months ago
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My doll...
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Disclaimer- Something my pervert brain thought about, I hope you all enjoy. Warning- Soft dark Bucky, smut, possessiveness, jealousy, 5.3k words.
Bucky Barnes had always been a man of few words. A soldier by nature, a soldier by habit. But it was something about you that had always made him feel like he was at a crossroads with himself, like his life could go one way or another depending on whether or not he could ever find the courage to speak up.
The first time he realized he was in love with you, it wasn’t a dramatic moment. There were no bells, no grand gestures. It wasn’t like he had a clear, defining thought of this is it. It was quieter than that. He was sitting next to you in the Avengers’ compound, watching you work on some new project you had thrown yourself into, fingers deftly moving over wires and circuits. Your brow furrowed in concentration, lips parted in that way that made him want to reach out and touch you.
He never had before, of course he was too afraid of ruining the friendship, too afraid of making things weird.
And that was how it had always been. Quiet. Unspoken.
But even with those feelings slowly building, Bucky stayed quiet. He watched you from the edges, from the safety of his distance, telling himself that if you ever really loved him, you’d say it first. He couldn’t risk the possibility of losing you altogether. So, he waited. And waited. And waited.
Tonight, was supposed to be like any other. A rare night off from their duties. No mission on the horizon, no danger lurking around every corner. The team wasn’t together, except for you. You suggested going to a bar nearby for a drink and a break from the constant grind of life in the compound. Bucky had decided, almost reluctantly, to say yes.
Bucky had, of course, known you cared. In all the small moments, like how you would always check in on him, ask him about his dreams or how he was really feeling. And the way your eyes lingered on him when you thought he wasn’t looking.
I know you love me, he thought. I know it.
But Bucky never had the nerve to say it out loud. And now, here he was, sitting across from you at the bar, staring into his glass of whiskey, wishing he could just reach out and touch your hand without the world falling apart around him.
He was far too aware of how close you were, and yet how far away you still seemed.
You were laughing, your voice light and full of life. You always seemed to shine brighter when you were in this mood, the weight of the world lifted, even if only for a moment. But Bucky could see the flickers of doubt in your eyes. Could see the way you kept looking over at him, waiting for something.
Maybe tonight was the night you’d say it. Maybe tonight you’d do what Bucky couldn’t bring himself to do.
But as he watched you, a strange feeling began to take hold. A spark of jealousy. It was a ridiculous thing, he knew. But it wasn’t about you. It wasn’t about the way you looked at other people—it was about the way you looked at him and didn’t say anything. Didn’t do anything.
It was then that a woman approached him.
Bucky didn’t want to be rude. He’d never been the type to just turn someone down, but when the woman slid onto the seat next to him, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him, he didn’t feel the usual discomfort. Instead, he felt an odd sense of power and control, maybe.
She was bold, confident. The way she laughed, the way she touched his arm, the way she spoke to him, it all felt like a challenge. A test. And before he could stop himself, he realized something. He wasn’t afraid of this woman. He wasn’t uncomfortable.
But you were.
He saw the way you stiffened in your seat, the way your smile faltered. You hadn’t said a word, but Bucky could tell, he knew. You were jealous.
And for some reason, that made his heart pound. A dark thought crept into his mind, ‘Maybe this is how it’ll happen. Maybe I can make you admit it. Maybe I can get you to finally say what we both know is true.’
The woman leaned in closer, her fingers brushing his. Her breath was warm against his ear as she whispered, “So, what do you say? Care to dance?”
Bucky glanced at you once more. You were still staring at him, but now, there was a mix of frustration and hurt in your eyes. His breath caught in his throat. He should stop this. He should turn away. But a dangerous impulse surged through him.
“Sure.” he said, standing up without another word, letting the woman take his hand and pull him toward the dance floor.
He could hear your breath hitch from across the room. He could feel your gaze burning and intense. But he didn’t break. Not yet.
They moved in close as the music shifted, her body pressed against his. It was all a game now, a game Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted to play but couldn’t help himself from continuing. Every move he made, every gesture, was designed to make you feel something. To make you feel what he had felt for so long ‘the ache.’ The longing. The desperate desire for something more.
But as they danced, his thoughts were on you. Only you. And all the ways he had hurt you without ever realizing it.
You were standing now, getting your things, heading for the door. And Bucky’s chest clenched as he realized something. He couldn’t let you go. Not like this. Not anymore.
“We are done!” he said to the woman, his voice sharp as he brushed past her, heading toward you.
The cool night air hit him as he caught up to you just outside the bar.
“Doll, wait,” he said, his voice catching in his throat. “Where are you going?”
You didn’t turn around, didn’t even slow down. “I’m going back to the compound, Bucky. I’m done.” Your voice was quiet, but it was laced with finality. “I’m done pretending. Done watching you with her.”
“I’m going back to the compound,” you repeated, your voice a little too calm, too controlled. “I need to clear my head. I think I’ll go check in with Steve.”
The moment the words left your mouth, you felt the shift in the air. Bucky froze.
You hadn’t expected it, Bucky was always so controlled, so guarded. But there was something in his eyes now. Something darker. The breath you’d taken in to steady yourself suddenly caught in your throat.
“Steve?” Bucky’s voice was low, tight with barely contained emotion. His grip on your wrist tightened, and you could see his jaw clench, the muscles beneath his skin rippling with barely restrained anger. “You’re going back to Steve?”
You nodded slowly, avoiding his gaze. You had no idea why, but you couldn’t meet his eyes right now. Maybe it was because you could feel his anger building, and it made you uneasy.
“Yeah,” you said, trying to sound indifferent, but even to your own ears, the words felt hollow. “I’ll be fine, Bucky. I just need some space.”
You tried to pull away, but his grip on your wrist tightened, pulling you back toward him. His eyes locked onto yours, and there was something in the depths of his gaze something primal that made your breath catch.
“Don’t lie to me,” he growled, his voice rough, his tone clipped. “You’re not going back to Steve. Never ever!”
His hand moved to your other wrist, and before you could protest, he spun you around, backing you up against the cold brick wall of the alley. You gasped at the suddenness of it, the sharp heat of his body pressing against you. The force of it left you breathless, but it wasn’t just the physical contact that left you feeling winded, it was the storm swirling in Bucky’s eyes.
“I don’t care about your games, doll,” Bucky continued, his voice now a dangerous whisper. “I don’t care if you’re trying to protect yourself or play it safe. You don’t get to walk away from this. Not after all these months. Not after I’ll final say what I should’ve said the first goddamn time I saw you.”
Your heart hammered in your chest as Bucky’s breath came faster now, his face inches from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the anger and frustration practically crackling in the air between you. His hand was on the wall next to your head, caging you in, his body pressing into yours like he was trying to hold you there, to make you listen.
“Don’t you dare go back to Steve!” he snarled. “I know what you’re trying to do. I know what you’re hiding from. But don’t you dare tell me you’re choosing him. Not when we both know what’s between us.”
Your stomach twisted at his words, a jolt of panic rising up in your chest. You had to get away from him, from this. But somehow, the words felt wrong. He was right. Something had shifted tonight, everything had shifted tonight. And the more you tried to run from it, the more you realized that you were just as tangled up in it as he was.
You shook your head, trying to pull away from his grip. “Bucky, stop. Just stop.”
But he didn’t. His hand moved from the wall to your face, cupping your jaw with surprising gentleness. His thumb stroked over your skin, the touch almost tender despite the fury that was still burning in his eyes. It was like he was trying to hold on to you, trying to keep you from slipping away.
“I’ve spent months pretending I didn’t want you,” Bucky muttered, his voice low and raw. “I’ve spent months watching you with him, keeping my distance, telling myself it was enough just being close to you, just being around you. But it’s never been enough, Doll. It’s never been enough, and I can’t do it anymore.”
“I love you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you.”
Your breath caught in your throat. For a moment, neither of you moved. The world stood still.
You swallowed hard, fighting the surge of emotions that were building inside you, fighting the tears threatening to break free. You had never seen Bucky like this so raw, so vulnerable, so… angry. It terrified you, but in a way, it also made you realize just how deeply he cared for you. How much he had always cared for you.
His grip on your face tightened, but there was no anger in his eyes now, only something softer, something that made your heart beat even faster. “I don’t want to claim you, Doll. I want to have you. I want you to choose me.”
Before you could respond, Bucky’s lips crashed into yours again, desperate and urgent. It was no longer a question, no longer a plea. It was an answer. His hands slid to your back, pulling you into him with such force that you could feel his heart racing against yours.
The kiss was everything every unspoken word, every hidden desire, every emotion they had both kept buried for so long. Bucky was done hiding, done pretending, and as you kissed him back with equal fervor, you knew there was no going back from this.
“Don’t go back to him,” Bucky whispered against your lips, his voice thick with need. “I’m not letting you go.”
You didn’t know what to say. The words felt like they were stuck in your throat. You had always thought you’d have time to figure this out, but now that the truth was out there between you, out there between him, you knew that there was no more time for pretending. No more time for games.
You pressed closer to him, your hands threading through his hair as you kissed him again, and in that moment, you realized there was only one thing that truly mattered.
Bucky dragged you in the room at the backside of the bar.
Without warning, he pins you against the wall, his body pressing against yours. His hands cup your face, holding your gaze captive.
He presses himself closer, one thigh between your legs. His hands move from your face to your hips, gripping them firmly. His lips graze your ear as he speaks, his voice a low grumble. “I'm going to show you exactly how much I want you, right here, right now.”
His mouth closes on your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. You feel his fingers slipping under the hem of your tee, tracing a path of fire along your waist. “I've wanted you for so long, you have no idea. Watching you, smelling your scent, feeling your touch... it's been driving me crazy.”
His lips move down the column of your throat, leaving a trail of hot kisses along the way. One of his hands moves up to cup your breast, his thumb gently circling your nipple through the thin fabric of your bra.
You let out a gasp, arching into his touch. Your body is responding to his every move, awakening a need you've kept buried for far too long. Bucky smiles against your skin, enjoying the way he's unraveling you piece by piece.
“You like that, don't you? Feeling my hands on you, my mouth on your skin.” He whispers in your ear before capturing your earlobe between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to send a shiver down your spine.
His other hand slides under your skirt, trailing up your thigh, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
Your breath hitches, your legs growing weak as Bucky's touch becomes more and more brazen.
He chuckles lowly, satisfied to see you coming undone under his hands. “You're so responsive... so sensitive. I love seeing you like this, completely at my mercy.”
He spins you around, pressing your front against the wall. You feel his weight press into your back, his hands roaming everywhere, claiming you as his own.
“I'm going to make you mine, here and now. There's no stopping this, no denying what's been boiling between us for so damn long.”
His lips find the nape of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin. His free hand slides down your stomach, resting just at the waistband of your panties. The contact is almost too much, your mind reeling from the barrage of sensations.
“I want you so badly... Can I have you? Right here, right now?” He asks, his voice a deep, raspy whisper. He's poised on the edge, waiting for your answer, his body tense with anticipation.
You can't find the words to speak, too overwhelmed by the storm of emotions and sensations he's stirring within you. Instead, you respond by arching your back, pressing yourself against him, wordlessly signaling your consent.
Bucky lets out a guttural growl, the sound filling the air. He doesn't need anything more than that. His hands move with newfound urgency, peeling away the layers of fabric separating you from him.
He turns you around, his expression darkened with desire. He looks at you hungrily, taking in every inch of your exposed skin. His hands run up your sides, tracing the curves of your body, committing every detail to memory.
“You're so beautiful... So goddamn perfect.” His words are punctuated by small, lingering kisses along your collarbone, across your chest, down along your stomach. You're lost in the sensation, your body on fire under his touch.
He sinks to his knees in front of you, his lips continuing their exploration of your body. He kisses and nips at the tender skin of your inner thighs, teasing and tantalizing you with every touch.
“I want to taste you... I need to taste you...” He husks, his hands wrapping around your hips, pulling you closer. You can feel his breath on your core, hot and eager, making you shiver in anticipation.
His tongue darts out, tasting you lightly, just enough to send a rush of pleasure through you. You gasp, your fingers threading into his hair, holding him close. Bucky smiles against your flesh, enjoying how responsive you are to his ministrations.
He alternates between soft, almost chaste kisses and more firm, calculated licks. He's enjoying the taste of you, the sounds of your moans and gasps. His hands grip your thighs, holding you firm while his mouth works magic, making you moan obscenely.
“You taste so good... Better than I ever imagined.” He lifts his gaze, meeting your eyes. The raw hunger in his expression takes your breath away.
You want to speak, but your mind is a jumbles mess, unable to form a coherent word.
“You're driving me crazy, doll. I want to devour you, to make you mine in every way possible.”
And then he does. He dives in, his mouth devouring you in a frenzy of passion determined to bring you closer to the edge.
Your gasps turn into cries of pleasure, your body writhing under his skilful mouth.  Bucky's hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he brings you closer to your climax.
The world seems to spin around you, your senses overwhelmed by the pleasure Bucky is giving you. He's relentless, pushing you higher and higher, determined to give you more than you ever dreamed of.
His tongue works relentlessly, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails biting into his flesh, anchoring you on the ground.
Just as your were about to come, Bucky suddenly pulls away, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with desire. He climbs to his feet, pinning you against the wall once again
“I need to be inside you... Now.”
He's barely able to get the words out, his voice thick with need. He captures your mouth in a fierce kiss, his hands already pushing your skirt up around your waist.
His body presses against yours, the hard length of him rubbing against your core. You can feel the heat and strength of him, the evidence of his desire poking you.
“I need you, need this... I need you now..” He repeats the words like a mantra, his lips trailing along your jaw, your neck, your ear.
He pulls you around, turning you to face the wall once again. You feel the cool surface against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of his body behind you.
“I'm not going to be gentle.” He warns, his hands gripping your hips, pulling them back against him.
You feel him against you, hard and eager, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hips move against yours, and you can feel just how much he wants you, how badly he needs you.
“Can you take it? Can you handle me like this?” He asks, one hand traveling up your spine, his fingers tracing the line of your vertebrae. His touch is demanding, possessive, but somehow still tender, as if he's afraid he'll hurt you.
You manage to nod, too far gone with pleasure to form words. Bucky lets out a low, satisfied sound, his mouth nipping at your shoulder as his hand slides around to your front.
He cups your breast, his thumb grazing over your nipple, teasing and provoking.
“I'm going to take you, right here, just like this.” He growls, his hips pressing against yours.
You can feel him against you, his body poised and ready, the tip of his cock, teasing your entrance. “Are you ready for me?” He asks, his lips against your ear, his breath hot and urgent.
You can only manage a small, breathless moan in response, your body yearning for him to take you, to make you his own.
“I need to hear you say it. Tell me you want me... That you need me...” His words are a needy, almost desperate plea, his self-control hanging by a thread.
You find your voice, forcing the words out despite the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. “I want you... I need you... Please...”
“That's all I needed to hear.” The words are a rough, guttural grunt, the last vestiges of his restraint snapping. He positions himself behind you, the head of him rubbing against your entrance.
His hands grip your hips again, holding you in place. He's so close, so very close... But still, he waits, wanting to make sure you're ready for the next step.
“Just tell me if it's too much, okay? If I go too far, I want to know.” He whispers the words, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability, a hint of doubt, despite the powerful, animalistic way he's holding you.
You nod, your body thrumming with anticipation. You trust him, trust him not to hurt you, and that trust makes all the difference. You push back against him, signaling your readiness in the most primal way possible.
He lets out a low, gravelly moan, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. He needs this as much as you do, maybe even more. “God, I can't wait any longer...”
He pushes forward, slowly, carefully. He's being as gentle as he can be, wanting to give you time to adjust to the intrusion. But it's torture for him, the heat, the tightness, the way you're clenching and squeezing him, enveloping him in a way he's never felt before.
“You're so damn tight... So perfect...” He groans the words, his body moving involuntarily, the pleasure too much to resist. His hands grip your hips tighter, his mouth trailing kisses along your back, your shoulders, your neck. He can't get enough of you, his body moving in a rhythm that's old as time itself.
“You feel so good. I never knew it could be like this.” He mutters the words against your skin, his voice thick with ecstasy.
He picks up the pace, his body moving more urgently now, following the pull of pleasure that's driving him onward. His hands are everywhere, caressing and touching, worshiping every inch of you like a man possessed.
“I could stay inside you forever. I never want to let you go.” He murmurs the words into your ear, his voice ragged and broken. He's lost in the moment, in the pleasure, in you.
You reach a hand back, tangling your fingers into his hair, holding onto him like an anchor in the storm. All the rights and wrongs, thrown out of the window.
“Don't let go... Don't ever let go.” He whispers, his lips finding your neck, the skin there already tender from his earlier attentions. His movements become rougher, more frenzied, as if he's desperate to get even closer to you, to merge himself with you in every way possible.
“I need you... I need you so damn much...” The words are a broken chant, gasped into your ear, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.
He's moving even faster now, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the air, the only break in the silence apart from your moans and gasps. The pleasure is building, growing stronger and stronger with every thrust, threatening to consume you both. You can feel yourself close to the edge, teetering on the very precipice of ecstasy. Bucky knows it too, he can sense it, sense the mounting tension in your body.
“You're close... I can feel it. I'm so close...” He growls the words, his voice tight with the effort to hold back, to keep control for just a little while longer.
“I want to hear you say it... I want you to let go... Tell me you're mine.” His voice is harsh and ragged, his body trembling with the effort of holding back his release.
You struggle to find the words, to form a coherent thought amidst the haze of pleasure. “Y-yours.. I'm... Yours...”
The words send a wave of pleasure through Bucky, his hips twitching involuntarily at the sound of your surrender. “Say it again... I need to hear it again…”
“Yours... I'm yours, Bucky... All yours...” You gasp the words, your voice quivering with the force of your ecstasy.
That's all it takes. Your surrender, your declaration of ownership, it breaks the dam that's been holding him back. “Mine... You're mine... All mine...” He repeats the words like a mantra, his body moving with a new fervor, a new intensity.
“Steve won’t take care of you like I can.” He thrust, “All I have to do is…” he hits you with another powerful thrust, messing up with your senses. “Make a sad face and remind him of my past!” He hits another powerful thrust, and the voice you make is between a cry and a moan. “He will happily give you to me!”
He buries his face in your neck, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. When he speaks again, his voice is a possessive, guttural growl, thick with desire. “And don't you ever forget it.”
His lips find yours again, claiming your mouth in a kiss that's hard and demanding. He's drowning in you, in this moment, the world around you reduced to nothing but the heat and the friction and the pleasure.
He's close, so close, but he won't give in, won't let go until he's brought you to your release, until he's given you everything he can give.
“Come for me, doll... Let go... Give yourself to me... I want to feel it, feel you...” His words are a rough, ragged plea, a demand made out of pure need. He's holding back, waiting for you to reach your peak, his body taut and trembling with the effort to hold back his own pleasure.
You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, balanced between light and dark, pleasure and pain, sanity and madness.
“Let go... Just let go... I've got you...” The words, the promise, they're enough to push you over the edge. You shatter, your body arching against his, a cry of ecstasy tears from your lungs. The world spins around you, your release crashing through you like a tsunami, leaving you breathless and trembling.
Bucky's there, holding you against him, his arms wrapping around, holding you up, keeping you from collapse. He's still hard inside you, so close to his own climax.
“God, you're so perfect... I've never experienced anything like this before...” His voice is gruff and broken, his breath hot against your neck as he pulls you flush against him. He lets out a low, guttural moan, his body trembling with need and restraint. “I need you.... I need to let go... you will let me come in you, won’t you? You will be a good girl for me, right doll?”
You nod, your body still thrumming with pleasure as you push back against him, signaling your absent-minded consent.
“You're going to be the death of me, woman...” His words are a rough whisper, a promise and a threat all at once. His grip tightens around you, his body tense and coiled like a spring. “Just a little more... just a little longer... I need to give you everything...”
He buries his face in your hair, his breath coming in jagged pants now, his body taut and trembling with the effort to hold back just a little longer.
“Almost there.... almost... I'm so close...” The words are a ragged gasp.
He let out a low, guttural groan, his body tensing against yours, his arms pulling you tight against him. “God, I... I can't... I'm...” he doesn't finish the sentence. Instead, he buries his face in your hair, muffling his moan against your shoulder as his body tightens and spasms, his release washing over him like a tide, powerful and consuming.
He holds you close as he comes down, his body trembling with the aftershocks, his breath warm against your skin. “God... that was... incredible...” The words are a rough whisper, his voice thick with emotion. He presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering against your skin, as if he can't bear to let you go for even a moment.
He tightens his arms around you, pulling you flush against him, as if he can't bear to have you any further than an inch away from him. “You're amazing, you know that?”
He nuzzles your neck, his lips leaving tender kisses along the sensitive skin there. He's so gentle, so different from the rough, desperate man who'd been consumed by need a few moments ago. As he sees his release dripping from between your legs, his eyes darken, making him feel more possessive about you.
“Mine...” He mutters the word against your skin, his voice thick with possessiveness. He knows it's probably a bit irrational, but he can't help it. He needs to express his claim over you, his desire to protect and own you in every way imaginable.
He then moves his fingers on your thigh, collecting some of his release on his fingers, bringing them closer to your mouth, a silent order.
You know what he wants, what he's demanding, even if he doesn't say the words aloud. Your eyes meet his, holding his gaze, as you slowly bring your hand up to wrap around his wrist, drawing his fingers into your mouth.
“Good girl…” He murmurs the words as he watches you, his eyes darkened by a possessive, primal need. He loves how submissive you are in this moment, how willing and eager you are to please him.
He holds your chin, his fingers tracing the outline of your lips, feeling the glide of his own release against them. “You have no idea what you do to me, doll. You make me lose all control. And I love it…”
He leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that's equal parts tender and possessive. He can taste himself on your lips, and the thought just makes him want you more, more fiercely than before.
He pulls back enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath coming faster now, his body stirring once more. “I swear, doll, you're going to be the death of me...”
He captures your lips again, kissing you deeply, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you, marking you as his in every way he can think of.
Little do you know, about the real possessiveness he feels about you. Bucky is already planning to take you far away from everyone. To keep you all to himself. While you are already lost in the kiss and afterglow of the sex, Bucky is already planning about the future.
He kisses you again, with a fierce intensity, his hands roaming over your body, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of you. He's thinking of all the ways he wants to have you, all the ways he wants to make you his. He's already made up his mind. You're not just a passing fancy, or a distraction. You're his now, and he's not going to let you go. Not ever.
He then sits on the couch with you, while you rest in his arms, he picks out his phone preparing to take you away. He types out a quick message, his hands still caressing your skin, his eyes never leaving your face.
He's arranging for a secure location, somewhere remote, somewhere he can keep you safe and, more importantly, all to himself.
“My doll.”
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lev1ii · 6 months ago
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pretty arch !! ★ leon kennedy
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cw. afab & fem reader, unprotected sex, grabbing n spanking (!!), doggy style, older bf leon 😍, creampie, mention of multiple rounds, use of “baby” and “good girl,” kind of sweet ending, you literally black out for a few seconds 💀
author’s note. i wanna get leon pregnant 😊
m.list
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the bedroom’s air felt foggy, and the strong smell of sex throughout the room while creaking could likely be heard from outside the bedroom. you could barely think at this point, your head too foggy from leon pounding into you for the last hour or so. he couldn’t help it, it felt too good inside you!
leon was obsessed with watching the way his cum messily pushed out of your cunt each time he’d pull out, grabbing your thighs and spreading the fat enough to see your pretty pussy twitch. “look at that, baby..” he muttered with a smirk, his thumbs keeping your folds spread.
“c-can’t.. so mean..” you whined, gasping as you earned a light spank to your ass.
“don’t whine.. good girls don’t get rewarded by whining.” he teased, laughing as he watched you hide your face in the sheets. “you want to be rewarded right?” he asked with a smirk, grabbing your hips to keep you close while he dragged his thick cock inside your cunt.
you nodded weakly, your hands reaching behind as you attempted to hold onto him. he thought you looked pathetic as your hands missed him, so he took them and held them together at your back. you cried out as you felt his cock bully your sweet spot, your lips messily drooling on the sheets while your eyes rolled back.
“messy girl.. taking my cock perfectly though..” he grinned, “coming again?” he teased as he felt your pussy twitching more and more.
“m-mhm.. wan’ you to cum too..” you moaned sweetly.
“yeah?” he smiled, leaning down to kiss your neck. “where do you want it, baby?” he huffed, lazily fucking you as he felt his cock swell some from his impending release.
you cried out, your brain mushy at this point. you struggled to answer, stammering anytime you felt the tip of his cock push deep inside you. “i-inside.. wa-wan’ it inside..” you whimpered.
leon chuckled. he was definitely enjoying this, watching you lose your mind on his dick. “alright.. i’ll give it to you inside.” he cooed, holding onto your hips as he sped up, his goal was to pump you full of his cum and he was determined to do exactly that.
he groaned as he felt your cunt squeeze and flutter on his cock while you came, broken moans leaving your lips as he let your arms go, your body rested on the bed.
“i know.. i’m almost there, baby. i know you can handle just a little more..” he said softly as you whimpered from overstimulation. it wasn’t long before you nearly saw white as he pumped his load inside you, his hips slowly coming to a stop as he milked all his cum out with your pussy.
“you still with me, sweetheart?” he spoke as he gently massaged your hips. you didn’t realize it but you had blacked out for a few seconds, he had pulled his cock out when he noticed.
“..’m okay.” you spoke softly, your voice a little scratchy. your body weakly turned to face him, his arms enveloping around you.
“you sure? thought i killed you for a second..” he joked, pressing sweet kisses on your forehead.
“i promise..” you smiled a little, relaxing in his grasp.
leon smiled, gently picking you up. “let’s get you a bath.. i’ll make sure to put those salts you like in the water too..” he said as he carried you into the bathroom.
“bubbles too?” you asked.
“bubbles too.” he reassured you.
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byfulcrums · 9 months ago
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been rewatching rtte
toothless is called T multiple times, but the letter T doesn't exist in the alphabet of this world
i think hiccup was also called H???
hiccup went to the wedding of the man who tried to kill him and his family multiple times. no wonder he thought he could change drago's mind
snotlout is canonically a theater kid
"you're so small and cuddly" "please never say that again"
the twins are really smart, but they're also just stupid
hiccup straight up disappears when he's working on something
heather had a super noticeable crush on astrid
fishlegs got a love interest!! a plus size main character actually has a cool, badass love interest!
it was super hetnormative but it was cute
there was an island full of flying women who were implied to regularly commit cannibalism
hiccup taught all the riders how to fly with toothless, that's so sweet
everyone is a flat earther except for the twins
hiccup almost directly killed a lot of people
and killed a LOT more when destroying their ships
“scalding– cal..ding--" "toothle, plama bla!" was pretty much the funniest part of the entire series
dagur was bullied as a kid by a guy 8 years older than him who literally tattooed an imagine of him beating up little dagur in his arm??? What was that all about
actually we need to talk about how messed up everything about dagur is and about how the things that could've/did happen(ed) to him may be the reasons why he's Like That
just why was he imprisoned by the outcasts??? he didn't do anything to them directly
oof my brain is spiraling. "he loved you" "ig now we'll never know" what do you mean he didn't know if his dad loved him
there's a technically musical episode
tuffnut became hiccup's defense attorney and immediately got him the death sentence
hiccup regularly jumps off cliffs
he also jumped off a boat, with his arms tied and without toothless. just where did he think he was going
snotlout's annoying attitude is actually because spitelout pressures him too much and he feels like he has to be perfect for his dad :((
THE 'HICCUP'S EVIL MIRROR' VILLAIN THEME DONE RIGHT YESS!!!
viggo is the best httyd villain change my mind (you can't, swords at sundown, you may bring backup but i will win on my own)
skrill comeback skrill comeback SKRILL COMEBACK!!!!
"COMEEE TO DADDY"
what is a boar pit???
oh my god i had missed this series so much. it has no right to be this funny
this was my childhood. it has forever shaped the way i am
berserker heather the unhinged >>>
actually good disability rep! yay
hiccup complains about his peg leg pinching him
he straight up cannot walk without it and it is shown many times
"well, there are the benefits of a metal leg" after it got caught in a bear trap
funny moments, like snotlout trying to steal it to use it as a weapon
the jokes!! toothless laughing at the jokes!!! hiccup being so fucking done with the twins, who are always making the jokes!
there's an episode where everyone is so sleep deprived they actually start spiraling
astrid becomes a happy go lucky girl, hugs snotlout and tells him he's handsome
the fucking mood swings snotlout got were insane
the twins were straight up just hallucinating
"i sent them to wash their dragons, how could they mess that up?" cut to heather falling on her face with a bucket full of water in her hands
fishlegs becomes so paranoid, he's yelling at everyone all the time
"don't you know the trapper's trap can trap the trapper?? ...oh gods, i must be losing it, i'm quoting dagur"
YOOOO VALKA!!!! it's so nice to see her
hiccup tried to murder dagur to stop him from getting to toothless, which is scary bc it shows just how far he's willing to go for his bff, but also funny because hiccup. that was not going to work
oh the hiccstrid slowburn, how i have missed you
the twins's made up language
there was a beach episode turned murder mystery and a musical episode held at gun point
hiccup has a whole little speech that he periodically gives astrid to remind her that the twins serve a purpose
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starlightsalvatore · 6 months ago
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hunger / damon salvatore x reader
i'm back !!! I needed to write a damon one-shot while I work on a new fic and this just tumbled right out of me lol
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hunger / damon salvatore x reader
word count: 3.1k
warnings: everything??? drinking, swearing, blood sharing, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p-in-v, a tiny bit of degradation?? this is self indulgant filth, seriously 18+ mdni
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You ran a hand through your hair as you walked back and forth, unsure of what else to do with the restless energy surging through your system as you tried to fight one of your most basic, primal urges… hunger. Your fingers drummed against your thigh as you tried to focus on anything else, find something in your brain worth occupying your mind and switching course from the visuals running through your head. Your recent transition had been a shock to everyone, and Stefan had you on a tight leash to keep you in check… and you’d been on board, at first. You never wanted to cause harm, to be the reason someone else’s life ended, but with the itch in your veins threatening to undo you completely you couldn’t really find it in you to care anymore.
You heard your door push open and your head snapped up to see Damon walking in, two glasses and a bottle in his hand with an unamused expression, “if you don’t knock it off I’m going to have to replace the floor,” he said, setting everything on the dresser before pouring two generous cups of bourbon. 
“Not now, Damon,” you sighed, ignoring him entirely as your feet remained on course.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked and you shook your head.
“Not really,” you said as he shoved a glass in your hand, his eyes telling you to drink which you did… all in one gulp and he was a little surprised as he took it to refill. 
“Well, something’s gotta give,” he replied as you finished the second as quickly as the first. “At this rate the bottle will be gone in a minute and I’m not replacing original flooring.” He gripped your shoulders, halting your movements and you huffed, looking up at him.
“I’m hungry, Damon,” you said, as if it pained you to do so and he furrowed his brow.
“The freezer is full- oh,” he cut himself off, realizing that’s not what you meant as a smirk spread across his features. “You want your blood at 98.6,” he said and you rolled your eyes, pushing him off you.
“Will you cut it out?” You poured another glass, hoping at some point the alcohol would subdue your cravings but you knew that was about as likely as him leaving you alone, so you tried another angle. “I can’t… Damon, the blood bags aren’t doing it for me, I can’t think, I can’t sleep… will you please take me out?” For a moment you thought he’d say yes, revel in the opportunity to feed with abandon with someone else, but it wasn’t that easy.
“No can do, sweetheart,” he replied and your brows pinched. “I’ve got enough on my plate without you losing control and giving me more bodies to deal with.” He was right, there was too much going on and you spinning out wasn’t an option, but that didn’t make it any easier of an answer to tolerate. He gave you a once over, it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to take you out… he would have loved to, but you were new and he knew you could eventually get to where he was, one day you’d be able to feed and leave them alive with no memory of what had happened, but that day wasn’t today, you had a long way to go and he couldn’t afford to have you slip up.
But… he couldn’t afford to have you slip up. One look told him you were wound tight, the diet Stefan had you on was restrictive, never enough to fully satisfy, and the less you drank the tighter you spun, threatening a catastrophic snap he could only assume was looming on the horizon with how frustrated you looked right now. He ran through his options, knowing letting you sit in this hunger any longer would result in a much bigger problem, but the only thing he could think of posed another set of issues and would lead to him teetering on the edge instead of you.
He let out a sigh, closing the distance between you and plucking the glass from your hands to discard on the dresser and you looked up at him questioningly, the invasion of space catching you by surprise. His normally bright eyes were dark and swimming with something you couldn’t understand, deep blue pools you found yourself getting lost in as you waited for him to say something. “You need to feed,” he said and your eyes fluttered shut just at the thought.
“I need to feed,” you whispered and he nodded, catching your chin between his fingers and forcing your head back up when you tried to look down and the action had your breath catching somewhere in your throat. 
“You still haven’t felt it, have you?” he asked, voice low and you shuddered. “What it’s like to sink your teeth into something…” you shook your head, Stefan hadn’t allowed you to drink anything that didn’t come from a cup. “Poor thing,” he chuckled, he could feel the tension radiating off you in waves, you were practically shaking beneath him as you fought to retain your grip on your sanity, on your control.
“Damon,” you sighed, eyes pleading and he just smiled as he gripped your hand and brought it up to his neck, the pulse beneath your fingers driving you wild. 
“When you feed you have to be careful… if you bite just along here,” he said, dragging your fingers along the vein, “you can control the flow. It doesn’t have to be messy,” he explained and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the subtle way his skin moved with each beat of his heart, the sight bringing the veins beneath your eyes to the surface, your fangs descending.
“Don’t fight it,” he said, noticing you trying to rein it in, and you were having a hard time focusing on anything with the way his hands were trailing up your arms, pulling you closer. “Go on,” he tilted his head just slightly, “give it a try.” he encouraged and this pulled your focus, eyes snapping to his as you tried to ascertain if he was being serious. You had a lot left to learn, but blood sharing was personal, and you knew that… but all you saw in those dark blue eyes was a fire simmering beneath the surface you were sure was a mirror image of your own.
You slowly reached onto your tiptoes, as if he were a deer in the woods threatening to startle and bolt, but the closer you got the harder it was to resist, anticipation burning through your veins at the prospect of giving in. Your fangs were tentative as they broke the skin just where he’d indicated, but the first drop of blood immediately made you feel dizzy and intoxicated… It wasn't enough. You quickly grew feverish, your hand wrapping around his throat as you surged forward, crashing into the wall behind you and he let out a grunt as his back collided with the hard surface, pinned in place as you fed.
“There you go… that’s it,” he said, leaning back as he relaxed and let you take what you needed. His arm snaked around your waist while a hand brushed the hair from your face, cradling the back of your head as warm blood radiated through your body. A soft groan fell from his lips as you drank from him, and the sound elicited an unexpected reaction from you, your hand tightening around his throat and your body pushing flush against his and despite everything in you telling you to continue, you forced yourself back knowing if you didn’t stop you’d bleed him dry. 
Your eyes were wild and satisfied as they met his, and he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the remnants and you were almost surprised when your lips wrapped around him, ensuring you didn’t waste a single drop. His smirk returned when he felt your tongue slide across his skin, “better?” he asked and you nodded, keeping him in your mouth for maybe a second longer than you needed to. The air was charged between you, you’d just crossed a line in the sand and you wanted to push a little further, go a little farther… 
Part of him knew he should put an end to this… stop before it went any further. He knew it before he’d even offered up a vein for you, he knew as soon as he did he’d be teetering on this ledge and he didn’t have that much self control when it came to you. Perhaps, if he really analyzed the situation, he knew somewhere in the back of his mind why you’d been so worked up, he knew what you needed and instead of letting you wreak havoc on the blood cooler he let you push him against a wall and take what you wanted, he let you feed from him in the most intimate way he could think of. 
And when you were looking up at him like that, eyes mischievous and holding an unspoken challenge with his blood still on your plump lips, who was he to resist? Your chest was heaving with anticipation as you waited for him to do something, anything, and the movement was so fast you almost didn’t register his hand curling around your throat, flipping you around and slamming you against the wall with such force you were sure you’d be dead if you were human. Your gasp of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, searing and frenzied as he connected your lips and kissed you with a hunger that rivaled your own only moments ago. 
You both fought for dominance, neither one of you willing to submit just yet but you were outmatched… he grabbed your wandering hands and pinned them above your head, grip so tight you whined as he kissed down your neck, biting into you the same way you’d done with him and you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips as he did. Your hips rolled forward and feeling his hardening length against you gave you the surge of confidence you needed to break your hands free, sliding down his chest to pull his shirt apart, buttons flying and clattering against the floor as you pushed the fabric over his shoulders. 
His lips were greedy across the expanse of your chest as he nipped and sucked the soft skin, tearing your shirt to shreds as he pulled it from you, a mess of fabric in your wake as you surged forward and pushed him into the wall opposite you, regaining your upper hand. Glass shattered on the floor around you as the force rattled the dresser but you couldn’t find it in you to care what had broken as your hands pulled his belt free, fingers quickly undoing the button as you sank to the floor and pulled his jeans with you.
His length stood erect in front of you and you were quick to take him in your mouth, focusing your tongue on his swollen tip as your hand worked what didn’t fit, and you couldn’t help but moan around him at the groan that fell from his lips, “such a good girl,” he cooed, his sweet words undercut by the harsh hand in your hair gripping and pulling you closer, forcing you to gag around him and the sensation had his head falling back against the wall. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sharp pain in your scalp and the way he was hitting the back of your throat, but all you could focus on was the throbbing between your thighs and he didn’t miss the way you clenched them together, desperate for friction. 
You were quickly on your back, too caught up in the moment to bother moving to the bed and you pushed glass aside as he settled between your legs, tearing your underwear off and diving in like a man starved and you could feel his smirk against you at your surprised moan, head hitting the floor as your back arched in pleasure. He switched between your clit and your entrance, not giving either attention long enough to give you what you really needed, and you whined as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging harshly.
“Damon, please,” you sighed, hips bucking against his face and he focused his attention on your sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue expertly working you up as you shamelessly moaned his name. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew with the way you kept slamming each other against walls and the floor, the breaking glass, and the sounds falling from both your lips someone might come to make sure you were alright, but you couldn’t find it in you to care… not when he felt as good as he did between your legs. 
Your moan changed in pitch when he slid two fingers into your entrance and it went straight to his cock, his head swimming as he watched you come close to falling apart above him. When he crooked his fingers just so your grip in his hair tightened, pulling him closer as you started to grind against him, “fuck, just like-” you were cut off by your own moan when he started massaging that spot inside you, legs trembling as you careened off the ledge. His touches remained merciless as pure euphoria surged through your veins, your head cloudy as your body trembled. 
“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered against you, kissing his way up your body and you tugged him closer to reconnect your lips, tongues swirling against each other as you tasted yourself on him. His hands felt greedy and possessive as they roamed over you, gripping tight enough to leave bruises that would heal before they even had a chance to form, and it was as if neither of you could get enough. You pushed forward, tugging him up with you and all but throwing him onto the bed and his smirk was devilish as he watched you crawl on top of him.
He looked like he was about to say something but you didn’t give him the opportunity as you kissed him, rough and demanding as your hips settled above his, hand reaching between you to line him up at your entrance and you both let out groans as you took him inch by inch. The stretch was sweet, filling you almost to your breaking point as you settled fully and started to roll your hips against him, shuddering at the feeling.
“Fuck,” he moaned as you started to bounce up and down, setting an unforgiving pace and you felt like you could feel him everywhere, every nerve ending radiating with fire. He sat up to wrap his arms around you, hips bucking to meet yours in a way that had your head rolling back and he took the opportunity to sink his teeth into your neck and you had never felt pleasure like this before. His hand was firm around your throat as your body shook with each thrust and soon you were boneless in his lap, only able to hold yourself upright as he drank you in. 
When he pulled back you licked along his lips, face changing at the taste of blood and he swore he’d never seen anything sexier. Neither of you was going to last much longer, not like this, and he delivered a rough smack to your ass that had you whining and rolling against him. “Oh my god,” you breathed out, letting your forehead fall against his and he smacked again, gripping the tender skin, “Damon-” you tried, but nothing would come out.
“What’s that, sweetheart?” he teased, gripping your hair and pulling you back to look at him, “oh, look at you… all cock drunk and fucked out,” he teased and you had nothing to say as a firm thrust had you seeing stars. You buried your face in his neck, fangs sinking into his skin as you felt your release barreling towards you, the mixture of blood and his steady thrusts too much to bear and a streak of red trailed down your body as you came, only able to shout his name as you cried out.
Your grip on him was maddening, pulling him right over the edge with you as you milked him for everything he had, and when you both slowed to a stop you were having a hard time catching your breath, your mind floating somewhere above you as you tried to return to your body. You felt his tongue along your chest, cleaning up your mess as you leaned back and he tried to commit the sight to memory… your hair wild, cheeks flushed, and skin dewy as blood lingered along your skin. 
You still weren’t fully with him, stuck in a haze as you felt him whisk you into his bedroom, and into the bathroom and it wasn’t until you were under the stream of water with him that you hummed contently against his lips as he kissed you softly, “there she is,” he chuckled.
His hands were delicate as they roamed you, and yours slid down the front of his chest as you looked up at him, doe eyed and happy. “That was…” you trailed off, unsure of what word to use to fully sum it up and he placed another soft kiss on your lips.
“Everything you ever dreamed of?” he provided and you laughed as you swatted his chest. 
“Hush,” you replied, feigning annoyance but you didn’t have it in you to feel anything other than bliss. The rest of your shower was spent with wandering hands and sweet kisses, a stark contrast to how rough and domineering you’d been with each other and when he pulled you into bed and wrapped himself around you, you looked up at him as your fingers trailed along his chest absentmindedly.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, and you flushed slightly under his gaze.
“It was more than I dreamed of,” you answered, and he raised a brow in question. “I haven’t… I hadn’t done that since turning, I didn’t know it could be like that,” you explained and realization passed over his features.
“My god,” he chuckled, “no wonder you were wound so tight.” His hand on your back was comfortable, holding you tight against him as he rubbed soothingly, “we’ll go on a little trip this weekend,” he said as you rested your head on his chest.
“A trip?” 
You felt him nod, “away from all the chaos here… we’ll find you some warm bodies and I’ll teach you how to do it the right way, you don’t have to live a life of blood bags forever.” 
“I don’t know, you seemed to do the trick,” you teased and he laughed.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’re missing.” 
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holybibly · 28 days ago
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Unholy thoughts of the day: Mafia king Seonghwa fucks you with his leather covered fingers and eats your pussy in his luxury limo.
"You're already so wet for me, my precious little pet." Seonghwa purrs, plunging two long fingers deep into your pretty little cunt, stretching your tender, quivering walls roughly and insistently. Your hips unconsciously arch to meet his touch, and a loud, shuddering moan escapes your throat as Hwa bends his fingers inside you, pressing the rough, cool pads of his fingers right against your sweet spot. 
He begins to lazily caress the sensitive nerve cluster with light, jerky strokes, and that sensation is so strong that your brain loses touch with reality for a moment. You struggle to breathe, shaking from the intensity of the experience, and wriggle on your seat, your long, sharp fingernails desperately scratching the expensive leather upholstery of the limousine in a futile attempt to ground yourself as he continues his sweet torture, relentlessly stimulating your G-spot with his leather-gloved fingers. 
It seems like an eternity before Seonghwa's caresses slow down and he begins to painfully, slowly pull his fingers out of you, all soaked in the sticky, sweet slime. He brings them closer to his gorgeous face, watching as your excitement drips down the luxurious black Iberian leather of his glove. Hwa lets out a dark, velvety chuckle, and the deep, sexy sound of it sends shivers of excitement up and down your body. With your eyes heavy with lust, you watch as his sensual, plump lips open and he sticks out his tongue to lick your slime from his fingers. The long, skilful appendage glides so obscenely over the soft, black leather that your pussy is clenching on nothing with desire to be filled. 
God, sometimes it scares you to see how much power Seonghwa has over you, and how just one look from him is enough to turn you into a whimpering, drooling mess. But can you talk about that now, when you had the full knowledge of what you were up against when you seduced the king of Seoul's underworld himself? 
"Your cunt is so sweet, and it's all mine, isn't it, pretty one?" Your excitement grows with every word he says. Seonghwa's deep, husky voice sounds like pure porn in the semi-darkness of the luxury limo, and you want nothing more than to dissolve into him and let him do whatever he wants to you. 
"Yes, it is all yours." You nod mindlessly in agreement, giving absolutely no thought to what he's telling you. The only thing occupying your clouded mind right now is the burning excitement between your legs.
The grin he gives you is truly devilish, but you don't have time to worry about that as Seonghwa leans down to your pussy and languidly runs his long, deft tongue over your cunt, from the tiny, slime-bleeding hole to your swollen clit. Your hips jerk forward, and Seonghwa's face literally burrows into your sweet cunt, the sharp tip of his nose touching your throbbing bud, sending shivers down your spine and more slime pouring out of your hole. But Hwa doesn't seem to mind burying his godlike face completely in your lovely cunt as he presses his nose harder into your clit and pushes his tongue between your plump labia. 
"Your cunt is intoxicating, doll; I don't think I could ever get enough of you." Seonghwa growls, his plump, soft lips touching your pussy with every letter uttered, his hot breath pooling around the sensitive folds, stimulating you even more. "Warm, sweet, and sticky cunt of my little sugar slut." He gives your pussy another long lick that makes your legs shake before he starts to eat you for real, the way he always does—greedy, rough, and possessive. 
Seonghwa digs his fingers painfully into your juicy thighs, lewdly French kissing your pussy again and again, rubbing and licking your folds. His tongue moves in a deep kiss, reckless and slutty, lightly pressing against your tender hole and pushing in, just giving you a little hint of how well he can fuck your needy cunt with his tongue. When Seonghwa's gorgeous lips encircle your throbbing clit and he starts sucking hard on that supersensitive nerve lump, you have to bite your knuckles to keep a loud scream from escaping your throat. 
One of Seonghwa's hands flies up, and he grabs your wrist roughly, pulling your hand away from your mouth. He growls in irritation and doubles his efforts, thrusting two long fingers into you again. The gloves have made his fingers less elegant and thicker, and they are filling your tight cunt so that you can barely breathe. Your breathing has become short and intermittent, soft, sobbing moans coming out of you in quick bursts. Your fingers tangle in his hair, digging your nails into his scalp and pulling roughly at the long black strands, trying to release the energy building up inside you.
"Baby...' Hwa purrs. "I know you're close. I can feel it, beautiful, the way you're clenching your needy cunt around my fingers."
Seonghwa looks no better than you, strands of his hair dishevelled and falling over his godlike face, his siren eyes beguiling and seductive, magnetic and as heavy as your own. He looks fucked, so unlike the ice prince you met once upon a time. Seonghwa's grip remains unyielding, holding you in place as his fingers move mercilessly inside you, as if to gain a foothold in the very core of your being.
'Come on, baby, cum for me.' He says, his voice steely before dropping to an airy, seductive whisper. "I want to see you collapse."
Something inside you explodes at the velvety, dark tone of his voice; the dam bursts, and you fall, coming apart at the seams, writhing in searing pleasure. Hwa moans loudly, the sound coming from deep inside his chest. He releases your clit and sucks on your quivering hole instead, drinking every last drop of your juices and prolonging your orgasm. You feel intoxicated and make a deep, desperate sound as he pushes his tongue into your hole again.
As your orgasm fades, you feel Seonghwa chuckle into your pussy before he pulls away from you. Lifting his head, he gives you the most magnificent siren's gaze, full of the most vicious and lecherous intentions, as he brings his hand to his mouth. Hwa bites down on the glove with his teeth and slowly starts to pull it off his hand. He does the same with the second glove, and when the expensive accessory lands on the floor of the limousine, Seonghwa licks his thumb and gives you a dirty grin. 
"Are you ready for another orgasm, my sweet?"
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olivianott · 3 months ago
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BRAIN CHEMISTRY
Tell me I’m not the only one happily not recovered from the deatheatertok (yes that’s why I’ve been MIA😬) and the Lorenzo Zurzolo gifs from the other day? 😭 I could not help myself with this one.
READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, OCTOBER CAME EARLY TO ME.
ꕤ 1.6k words 
ꕤ deatheater!Theo Nott x fem!reader
ꕤ warnings: toxic ex, deatheater Theodore, pure smut, unprotected sex, explicit content, not for minors, 18+
ꕤ all characters are adults
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You knew you were in trouble. That you fucked up. You somehow found yourself at a party in an unknown manor. You and your friend got talking with some people at a pub and now you are surrounded by glimmering Death Eater masks. Everyone is acting as if they are just having fun at a party. But you see their eyes following the two of you everywhere. 
You already know what is going on at these parties. You heard stories, awful stories, from him. You wonder if he is in attendance. No. Stop thinking about him, he didn’t want you anymore. He is one of them after all. 
You try to think of a way out for you and your friend. Get drinks, but don’t drink them, discreetly inch towards the entrance while smiling and acting like you’re having the time of your life, getting through the door and the few steps over the anti-apparition wards and poof, you’re both safe. 
That was the plan. Everything went smoothly, until just before getting through the door, your path is crossed by a tall Death Eater with an overly decorated mask. “Hello, beautiful.” He says while you watch your friend successfully execute the plan and disappear with a crack. 
You turn around and try to escape the lewd gaze of the big Death Eater, but there is another one in your path and you realize you are surrounded. Fuck. This is not good. No, don’t panic, don’t panic.
You panic.
Your vision starts to blur and you can’t seem to think straight. Heart in your throat, the ground becomes unsteady. Another mask enters your field of vision, too close to your face. This mask looks elegant, not overly decorated, but with artistic lines strategically curved around the planes of the artificial face. He grabs you by the upper hand and starts to drag you away from the crowd that formed around you, barking something to the other Death Eaters. You try to fight him off but it’s not working, his grip tightens and when you don’t stop, he loses patience with you and puts his wand under your chin. It doesn’t hurt but the threat makes you tremble in fear.
The man leans down next to your ear and hisses: “STOP IT.” The voice is so hard and threatening but at the same time familiar. 
You momentarily freeze and that gives him time to drag you through the hall and into a bedroom. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck. 
He closes the door after you and you finally have time to compose yourself, because he goes to the other side of the room, leaving you alone. While he locks the room with his wand, your mind clears slowly. You suddenly realize why the voice is so familiar. 
Theodore Nott. 
You’ve never seen him in his Death Eater robes and a mask before, but now you can’t stop looking at him. 
Theodore turns around, throws his mask on the bed, and stalks to you so fast, you actually step back in fear until your back is against the door. “Why the fuck are you here?!” He spits in your face, his eyes are feral and full of anger but also fear. 
“It was an accident, my friend thought it would be a good idea to-“ 
“To what? To enter a devil’s lair full of fucking Death Eaters that enjoy killing too much and don’t ask for permission to do anything? Don’t you fucking know what’s going on at these gatherings? Fucking hell!” He is talking quietly but with so much anger, you can actually feel his magic vibrating between you. 
“What’s it to you? You’re one of them now, you look like you’re right at home at this vile party, huh?” 
“Do you really think I like it? That I wanted this? Do you even know where you are?”
“In some nasty pureblood’s manor?”
“Yes. Welcome to the Nott manor.” His sarcastic smile falls off his face as he looks down and backs off of you, finally letting you breathe air. 
Oh. Nott manor. It’s his home. 
“Are you actually hosting this party?”
“Well, as I said, those people don’t ask permission for anything, so here we are. But now you are here and you made this night even more difficult for me. They have set their eyes on you now and they are hungry, in more ways than one. The Death Eaters need their food, and they like to play with it before eating.” 
He says this so matter of factly it takes a while for your mind to catch the whole truth of what you’ve casually walked into tonight. 
“You’re a Death Eater too now.”
“Exactly.” He smirks. 
You’ve missed him so much. His scent brings back memories, and you feel your body heat up despite his arrogant behavior and attempts to scare you off.
“What- what are you going to do to me?” You say breathlessly. Without your permission, your mind shows you pictures of you and him from the past, the little bit of fear just heightening your excitement. 
“Oh please, you know I’m not like-“ he stops himself mid-sentence and focuses his glare on your throat, pulsing with blood rushing through you, your red cheeks, your trembling hands, the rise and fall of your chest. 
“Now I remember.” His mouth curves in this arrogant smirk and his eyes look mischievous at the same time as dangerous. 
“You like danger… you like being scared, amore? Does it turn you on? Tonight you bit more than you could chew though, princessa. And now…. You are trapped in here. With me.” 
You can’t respond to him, but your body does. Your breathing gets more labored and you can’t help your gaze falling to his lips. 
His hand starts roaming down your body while again hovering over you, leaning against the door, the height difference between you more obvious than ever. 
“I- uhh…-“ you are unable to say more. But you close the distance between you and crash your lips against his. 
Theodore groans loudly, takes both your hands in his, and slams them against the door above your head. 
“Oh princessa, you don’t know what you just started, do you?” His hard kisses resume and your mind is filled up with sensations. 
The feel of his body against yours, the hardness of the door digging into your back, his teeth biting your lips, dragging against your throat, his lips sucking on your pulse point. 
Your eyes are closed, but you feel your feet leave the ground as Theodore picks you up and sends you flying on the bed. While crawling over you on the bed, he picks up his mask and puts it on his face. 
Fuuuuck. 
You can barely see his eyes staring down at you from behind the mask, in between the short strands of hair falling down around it. 
The world is a blur now, clothes start flying off of you, his hands tracing your curves. Suddenly he loses patience and flips you over, on your hands and knees on the bed. With his hand under your chin, he makes you look up. A mirror. Your moan is embarrassingly loud. The vision of him in his mask behind you, admiring you through the mirror, hand grabbing your throat… you’ve never seen anything hotter. With his other hand he traces your wetness and groans into your ear: “So ready for me princessa, you really do get turned on with fear and danger. How nasty of you. Was this your plan all along? To get fucked by a Death Eater?”
You can only manage to shake your head no, since he is already opening his Death Eater robes and taking out his beautiful cock. 
“I bet you were hoping to find me here, right? Wanted to make me take you back? Make sweet love and be together forever?“ He chuckles condescendingly at that thought. „Look at you now, writhing under me, dying for me to fuck you like this, with my mask on. Scream for me, princessa.” You can’t see the expression on his face since he is wearing his mask but his words are so degrading and harsh. And still, your eyes roll back into your head. 
And you do scream for him, you can’t help it, you are overwhelmed with sensation, his hands, his cock, his scent. After a while, your arms give out and he pushes your chest down into the bed, holding your hands crossed behind your back, you can’t even move. You are completely at his mercy and the feelings in your head are so confusing. You feel pathetic, under him like this, your body getting rocked by his trusts, but still, the way his cock feels inside you, the way he seems so powerful and in control of you and your pleasure with the way he manipulates your body and mind creates a fog inside your brain. Surrounded by his grunts, you realize he is using you for his satisfaction, seemingly oblivious and uncaring about your comfort or pleasure. You being completely naked, with your face in the mattress while he is still fully clothed behind you is just another layer of the humiliation. But your fucked up brain makes you love it so much that with his whimpery moans in your ear you finally lose control as you feel him lose the rhythm and push all the way inside you, so incredibly deep,  as he spills himself inside you. 
There is no cuddling after. He unceremoniously pulls out and sits in his bed propped up against the headboard, a trembling hand bringing a cigarette to his mouth, while you try to find your clothes and dignity on the floor. 
“Nice show. You were loud enough, so now they know you’re mine and hopefully leave you alone. Doesn’t change anything between us though. You can use the floo to get out of here and I hope to never see you at these things again, you understand me?” He says all of this so coldly and without even looking at you at all, so you quickly throw on your clothes and leave through the floo, throwing a “you’re still the same asshole” at him over your shoulder. 
Sitting on your sofa two days later, you are replaying everything that happened that day in your head. Your brain keeps getting stuck on the fear in his eyes when he dragged you to the room, a shaking cigarette in his hand after the sex, a slight tremble in his voice while he kicked you out of the manor after fucking you into oblivion. 
Maybe everything is not as he wants you to believe. He saved you from them after all. 
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As always, thank you for reading, hope you liked it. I’m not done with deatheater!Theo though 🤭.
moodboard
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ Your principessa ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚
If you want more: 🖤here🖤
If you need more death eater Theodore 😌
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firelilyfox · 10 months ago
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Power over you
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Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader
Warnings: NSFW / going down on her / cursing / explicit se&ual actions
Paul likes to be in charge
Words: 1k
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His touch leaves your skin burning. 
Your heartbeat doubled when he grabbed you by the neck, forcing you to look him directly in the eyes. Such lovely eyes, yet so full of a dark desire. The same desire you feel in every fiber of your being. 
„I’ve been imagining this the whole day. You are driving me insane, love.“ His thumb gently touching your lips to part them a little bit. Paul thinks about so many things those lips of yours could do and what he would do in return for you. 
You give him a cheeky grin. „That was the plan, Atreides. See it as a challenge on how long you could hold yourself back.“ You let your hands explore his tense chest. Feel every muscle moving under his thin shirt, as you touch him. The power you have over him makes the desire even more intense. His eyes darkened as your fingertips reach the waistband of his pants and his breathing just got heavier. There is no doubt about how much Paul wants you right now. The thought of you doing some bad things were in his mind for hours, so much that he had trouble on focusing on the important meeting he had with Stillgar and some other Fremen … he don’t even remembered what it was about. Paul was only thinking of you, being willingly under his control. So that he could do whatever he desires to. 
„Even if I wanted to hold myself back… I wouldn’t be able to“, his voice was not more than a breathy whisper. Paul caged you with his body against the wall. Your back fully pressed against hard stone, but you couldn’t care less. „I’m so fucking weak when it comes to you.“ 
He kissed you with a hunger that can not be satisfied. He would never get enough of this. Paul knew he would never get enough of you. His strong hands reached beneath your thighs, lifting you up so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. A little moan escaped your mouth and it made him grin a winning smile. Paul knows exactly how much you wanted him. And it made him proud like nothing else could do.
You could feel his length through the fabric of his pants, making you even more impatient to feel him all over you … and deep inside. Your fingers clawing onto his back, probably leaving marks on it. Paul was kissing you until you run out of breath, then moving his lips to your throat, making it even harder for you to concentrate. He knows all your weak spots and how to use them against you. 
His hands exploring your thighs and hips. Holding you with a strong grip so that you couldn’t escape him at any chance. Not that you wanted to. Your fingers running through his dark curls, pulling it gently. He growls. Paul is not the only one who knows how to use weak spots. Now he lost all hesitation that was left to this point. He tightens his grip around your hips, moving you from the wall to the next table. A surprised smile shows on your lips and he kissed it like he wanted to make it his own. 
You impatiently pulling his shirt until he lets go of you for a split second so you could drag it over his head. His bare chest and the defined abs came to light and you lose no time to let your fingers explore every inch of his body. You can feel him shivering beneath your touch. Paul decides that it was his turn now. He loves watching you enjoying your power over him, but to see you loosing your mind because of him and what he would do is even more of a turn on for him. 
He pulls the straps of your dress down, so that the useless fabric is now laying around your waist. His eyes wandering down your body, admiring every part of it. Even the scars from the many battles you fought. Some of them by his side. 
„You are so fucking beautiful, my love.“ 
You wanted to say something, but suddenly his lips were on your collarbone and the ability to form words vanished from your brain with every kiss he places on your skin, making his way down to your weakest spot. His tongue begins to move and a sharp scream bursts out of your chest. You grab his hair to keep him right there. Nothing in the world could bring Paul to go somewhere else. He enjoyed this way to much. Feeling you loose control. Tasting how much you want him. One of his hands pressing on your lower belly to make the incredible feeling even more intense. Every part of his body was screaming for you, but he wanted to make sure that you get what you deserve first. 
The moment Paul was using his fingers to help his tongue was the exact moment your world shattered into thousand pieces. You couldn’t hold your own body up, so you laid your head back and let the feeling of satisfaction take control over you. Your thighs shaking uncontrollably as Paul shoves you over the cliff. 
He loved that. He would fucking kill somebody for the satisfaction of making you shake like that. 
Slowly he comes back to his feet. Pulling your hips to the edge of the table. Your vision was a little blurry, but you could see that beautiful, dark smile he gave you. Paul placed a soft kiss on your lips, as he shoved himself deep inside you. Your fingernails scratching the skin of his back. Paul moans against your lips and begins to move his hips against yours. The rhythm started slowly but became faster with every thrust. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, his arms holding you so very close to him and the both of you moving in perfect harmony. 
As both of you reached the climax, out of breath and sweaty all you hear, was the wild beat of your own heart, pounding at the same rhythm as Pauls. He leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closed and lost in the moment. 
„I love you, y/n“, Paul whispered. 
You kiss him softly. „And i love you, Paul.“ 
_______________________
Thanks for reading! Comments, Likes & Reblogs are very welcome (but no stealing pls) <3
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retroellie · 11 months ago
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Polluted
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Summary: After a long day of work, Spencer comes home and fucks his stresses away.
A/N: This was written in literally 45 minutes but I had this idea and I couldn't make it into a full fic, my mind could only think of the smut part lmao. Enjoy!!! :)
Warnings: NSFW, slapping, degradation, squirting, unprotected sex, mean!spencer
Word count: 1.9K
Prison changed Spencer Reid, plain and simple. This is not the man you came to love. He was cruel, possessive, completely and utterly damaged. You hoped that prison wouldn't taint Spencer too much, you hoped that he would continue to be sweet little Dr. Spencer Reid. But you knew what prison could do to a person, for you locked people up daily. You knew that the system would take Spencer's old soul and soft heart into its muddy hands, squeezing them until they became one. Although sometimes in the right lighting, in the right moment, you can see a hint of Spencer in his light brown eyes.
You can't say that you hated the change in Spencer, obviously there was much work to be done before Spencer could truly be himself again. However, you could live with this change. He was hungry, feeling as though your body was the only thing that could fill that hunger. It was extremely attractive to you, his sudden hunger for you. Spencer was always using you, using your body or your mouth or your hands... just you. There was always an excuse for him to be inside of you in his mind. A man thought of looking at you? He bent you over the kitchen table. You wore a shirt that showed a bit of your chest? He dragged you into the bathroom and forced you onto your knees. You smiled at him? He would shove his face between your thighs until you couldn't even see straight.
Even on the way back home after he had gotten out of prison, he bent you over the backseat on the side of the road and fucked you roughly. It felt like you were stepping on eggshells every time around him because you never know what can set him off... it was oddly scandalous, almost arousing as the thought of how he'd fuck you next was always on your mind. A big plus was that spencer dug himself into your brain, pulling out your deepest and darkest kinks, and using them to give you earth-shattering, mind-blowing, life-changing orgasms. Now you don't think you two could ever go back to just plain sex. He had ruined you, ruined your body so much that only the thought of being hurt could get you off now.
"Fucking bitch..." Spencer spat out, his hand spreading your legs further open as his cock drilled into your soaked cunt. "That bitch looked at me like I was fucking stupid..."
His words came out breathy and jagged as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. Spencer came home today upset, his tie being ripped off and thrown down as soon as he got into the door. You knew something was up by this action, but also the look on his face. He seemed to have a frown sewn onto his face, something that he wore most days. You asked what was wrong but you were met with him ripping off your clothes, hinting that he didn't want to talk but to fuck his frustrations into you. Now here you were, panties ripped off, legs wide open, Spencer deep inside you with his hand placed on your neck.
You couldn't tell how many times you came just in this position alone, you couldn't keep count. His hand gripped your through, affecting the way your brain functioned. You felt with every thrust of Spencer's hips you would lose brain cells... creating the dumb cock whore that Spencer ached to achieve. Spencer's hand applied more pressure to your throat as he thought of what happened at work, how while section chief Erin Strauss critiqued his work, people were being murdered.
"As if my 187 IQ wasn't enough for her." He started, his hand on your thigh being slammed down past your face and into the wooden table he was drilling you into. " I mean, I've been at this place for over 10 years... I know what I'm fucking doing"
You came again, not able to keep yourself from unraveling now. His hand on your throat was constricting your moans, completely silencing them as the only thing that could come out of your mouth was soft gurgles. You loved this feeling, knowing that at any moment if you didn't like it you could alert Spencer and he'd stop immediately. I guess you could say that Spencer's care for you never disappeared after prison, he would go on to say that it strengthened his love for you. He had this picture of you that you had sent him in one of your many letters, he kept it with him everywhere he went for it was the only thing that kept him sane.
One time a fellow inmate saw it, snatched it from him, and digested every single inch of you. He went on to explain the disgusting things he would do to you if he got the chance, that is exactly why Spencer came home to fuck you nice and good every night. Because if he wasn't the one to do it, he knew that other people would take you for granted, they would spend only minutes with you... ignoring what you needed and taking what they wanted. You would feel incomplete, unsatisfied, and completely in denial that love existed. You would assume love was only made for books and movies, that no one could show you the love you deserved. This is the love you deserve. You deserve a love that could have you coming undone over and over again, a harsh and mean kind of love but that always ended with soft kisses and a nice hot bath. A love that was sour at first but ended sweet, making sure that the words "i love you" were carved onto your skin.
"You wouldn't do that would you?" He whispered into your ear, his grip on your throat as he waited for your response. " You don't think I'm stupid ...hmm?"
His cock was too deep inside you, it was deep enough to have you going cross-eyed and unable to speak. Your moans became audible now, no longer being stuck in your throat due to his pressure being released. His pace was still inhumanly fast, not stopping even for a second. The table had started to shit forward, being scrapped across the floor and probably worrying the downstairs neighbors. You were on the verge of cumming again, your mind not even able to comprehend his question until you felt a harsh sting on your cheek. Spencer had slapped you across the face, growing impatient while waiting for your answer.
"Answer me...." He hissed out, leaning down and taking his lips to yours. He bit down on your lip, creating a pain that shot through your body. "Or I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again until you can't think of anything else besides my cock deep inside your tight little pussy..."
You could taste blood now, your lip bleeding and seeping into your mouth. His words created this deep, rough knot in your stomach. It wasn't like the rest of the orgasms you had tonight, no it was more intense. It hurt, painful with every thrust of his cock. It created a deep pain and pleasure dynamic in your body but felt like something was trying to claw itself out of your body.
"Fuck..." You screamed out, grabbing onto him and digging your fingernails into his back. "No I wouldn't! Fuck... I wouldn't! I won't!"
You finally replied, hoping with those words he would deepen his thrust if that was even possible. Spencer just grinned down at you, placing his head in between your shoulder blade and your neck. He set soft kisses to the skin, his warm lips against your burning skin. Spencer was close, your words pushing him further to the edge. The feeling inside your stomach didn't stop or dull, it only got worse. You were screaming now, Spencer's hand lingering on your neck but sitting gently on your skin. Spencer picked up his speed, the table scraping against the floor even harder.
You couldn't handle it, everything around you becoming so far away yet being so close. The feeling got to a point of feeling terrifyingly painful but also so potent of pleasure and so bewitching that you didn't want it to end now. A couple more of Spencer's deep and harsh thrusts sent you over the edge, the painful knot in your stomach snapping and shooting liquid out of your body. It was the first time you had ever squirted, the feeling so glorious that you wished it would happen every time. Your vision went out, only seeing light and hearing Spencer's soft moans as he finished inside of you. The world felt like it ended, nothing to be seen or to be experienced... just emptiness but complete fullness all at the same time.
"Good girl..." You heard Spencer's words echo through your now-empty mind. You couldn't tell if your eyes were closed or not. "You did so good for me honey... I'm so proud of you."
Those single words were all you needed to hear as you floated back to earth and into your body, you blinked a couple times... forgetting where and who you were for a split second. You came back to see Spencer brushing your hair back from your sweaty face, his face inches from yours as his face filled with concern that maybe he had broken you finally.
"There she is..." He chuckled softly, kissing your lips softly. " There's my girl..."
You gave him a weak smile, raise your hand to rest on his cheek. You rubbed it softly, feeling the growing stubble on his face. He was just as sweaty as you, his body hot to the touch. You two probably looked insane, one of you barely able to walk looking beat the hell up and the other one scratched up and drenched with liquids. Spencer gently slid himself out of you, watching you wince softly as it felt like he was connected to you at this point.
"Sorry..." He whispered, taking your hand in his as he rubbed your thigh gently "I was too rough huh?"
Rough was not even close to what Spencer was. He was brutal, sadistic, barbaric but you couldn't deny that you would choose it over compassion any day. You began to think that maybe prison was the best thing that could've happened to Spencer Reid, not only was he a genius but he now had a powerful glow to him. Shy kisses and longing gazes were a thing of the past for you two, Spencer knew what he wanted and he was going to get it.
"You were just rough enough..." I chuckled, feeling nothing but content and at peace in this moment.
Spencer laughed with you, pecking your lips one last time before pulling away from you. He looked around, his eyes landing on the couch. He smiled, walking over and leaving you but only for a second. He came back with a blanket, wrapping it around you then picking you up bridal style. You thanked him silently because you knew there was no way you were getting off the table without some kind of help.
"To the bath you go..." He joked, holding you close to him as he walked you to your shared bathroom. 
You looked into his eyes and at the right lighting, the right moment, you looked into his light brown eyes... realizing that this is Spencer Reid. This is Spencer Reid damaged, polluted, and bruised... but it was still the man you fell in love with all those years ago.
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oblique-lane · 6 months ago
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idk if youve done it yet but i would actually lose my mind if you did an analysis for demo
Aye aye captain 🫡 Time to overdramatize again!
Let's address Demo's wounds
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(Demo's backstory was changed through the years but I'm sticking to the older version because I find it more grounded)
Demoman's story is easily one of the most tragic of all the mercs. Imagine you have been abandoned from birth, your parents simply rejected you for what you are. But luckily you have been adopted by some good people who replaced your parents and made you a relatively happy child.
And then you accidentally kill them. You're 6 years old. How does that feel?
I can't even imagine how a child's brain can't comprehend the idea of being a murderer. It was an accident, of course, they were blown up by a big explosion he created (genius kid found out how to do that, huh?) but still. His parents were dead and he knew it was his own fault. He learned he was dangerous as he is.
How was it like pondering about it in the orphanage?.. "I didn't want this! I want to go back and fix it, I'm so sorry", something like that. But he couldn't go back in time, so being covered in such an avalanche of guilt, he learned he needs to repress himself.
Demo have always had an explosive temper (no pun intended), it was his true nature, pure emotion: if he's happy, it's 100%; if he's angry, it's a full blown storm. If he loves, he loves with all of his heart, and he has a big one.
Living on the impulse, all or nothing, that crucial accident revealed that letting his true nature go will only end up as destruction in the end. Irreparable damage.
We don't know what exactly was happening to him during his orphanage years, but if I'm to guess, repressing everything about him: his interests, his character, his whole nature, was a thing to choose. He thought that he had to become still and quiet as to not to repeat that kind of tragedy ever again. He probably didn't have people to be friends with either, either because people rejected him for his past, or he avoided them himself due to his internalized shame, at least that's a guess.
But everything repressed returns to the surface sooner or later. As a child, living for so long under overwhelming guilt, grief, hate, pain and sadness, under the skies that are almost never sunny in a all-year-long damp and coldness of the Ullapool. Incomprehensibly grey. It was depriving.
He was always fascinated with explosions. He didn't touch it for a long time, but maybe something like seeing fireworks again one day made something inside him tremble... And to remember.
Explosions. Launch... Acceleration... Release. And every time the release happens, his soul fills with excitement, the body feels lighter and shivers go up the spine. Release happens inside his head too, for the explosions make his worries and pain go away for a moment.
He couldn't find another way to release his bottled up emotions, so gradually he returned to make explosives again.
It was something like an addiction. Similar to pyromania, except no one bothered to research this one. At the moment of explosion he could let his anger out, he could scream, he could run around freely, he could sense heat in his chest; he could be himself. As he once was.
Everything was cold. But the explosions were hot.
He thought it was under control, just a little bit of KABOOM after school, but he craved more and more every time, more vivid, more violent...
That's how he lost his eye. (...Was it a subconscious act of selfharm?)
The missing eye was a forever reminder of how deviated he actually was. He learned that he couldn't repress or change what he truly is - a monster. A Black Scottish Cyclops, wether it were his peers who called him like that or he himself, out of misery. There was indeed something seriously wrong with him.
It seemed like the only thing he was capable of is destruction. Destruction is the only environment he's comfortable with. Peace was always so anxious and depriving, and breaking things felt calming, so he figured it must be right.
And then his birth mother came and took him back, "now that's he's a worthy DeGroot". It was unexpected but... Pleasant. So he wasn't THAT worthless after all, huh? Turns out, it was really familial, the destruction thing. At least he found out that there was a reason behind all of this.
His new mom was, saying honestly, pretty cruel with words. She was not at all gentle, she was very strict, demanding and straight up abusive. It was never enough for her no matter what Demo did. She didn't want results from his work, she's just always wanted to mess with his brain.
And for whatever reason... This setup felt right for him. To be thrown around like that, to be humiliated harshly, it felt fitting, it wasn't causing anxiety or anything. He has to be a scapegoat, he had to forget about being a child and to start working as an adult, at the same time somehow replacing a father he still didn't have, but it felt good enough. Confusing relationships felt good enough.
Destruction was his habitat, and his heart could no longer accept anything else.
Cruelty wasn't warm though, just familiar, just an environment to not to go insane. But he craved warmness so badly... Yet every time he would get close to someone and receive a little gentleness and care, it would feel sickening. It felt unnatural, it reminded him of his lost parents and of everything that's wrong about him.
The only warmness his body could accept was alcohol, making him bubbly and comfortable and relaxed. He almost felt normal, happy even. Alcohol heat made him melt, and he felt so fulfilled as if he was in paradise, back to the womb.
Yet after the effect wears off, he feels lonely as ever. Quickly, existing without alcohol becomes pain. Existing at all. He became an addict.
Not that everyone he met rejected him, rather, he subconsciously reached out to those who would be cruel to him. Again, gentleness hurts wether he knows it or not. He's only good in destruction.
Lonely and clingy, ready to overshare, overall mess yet carrying a big baggage of love that has no one to give it to. Maybe because he can't give it to himself in the first place. There's so many issues unresolved because he can't handle them alone, yet there's no one to help since he was already trapped in a closed circuit of self sabotage.
He will keep acting like a party beast, always crazily emotional and overdone upbeat, a simple drunken man who will not be taken seriously that way. Maybe that's what he wanted, to not be seen as deep by anyone for not be reminded of his misery once again.
Seems like we bought that too.
...
The enemy Soldier might be an exception though. The man he really treasures his friendship with turned out to be an enemy; repeating the rule again: it's only acceptable when dangerous. Soldier deeply cares for Demo, however he's not gentle or pitying, he's as destructive and explosive as Demo is, and these two are a very rare perfect combination of destructing each other in the act of love. Both broken beyond repair, soul on soul, forever to be misunderstood by the outsiders. This is something about this relationship that looks like a golden lining.
They will not fix each other, but they sure are going to have a good time!
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Here, have a casual glimpse into my thought patterns and creative process:
*just scrolling about Tumblr and vibing to "Too Much Wine" by The Fratellis*
Too much wine?
Mihawk?
Mihawk drunk??
Wait wait wait WAIT what are they all like drunk?
GASP s h i n y h e a d c a n o n s
BLANK DOCUMENT HERE I FCKEN COME—
So anyway here's some headcanons about drinking too much (insert adult beverage of choice) with the OPLA boyos.
Implied that Reader is already in a relationship with each character in question.
I shall call it.......
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HAMMERED
OPLA!Zoro, Sanji, Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy X AFAB!Reader
NSFW Headcanons
Kinda Kinktober I guess? Borderline shitpost, I had way too much fun with this.
♫♬♫ Too Much Wine - The Fratellis ♫♬♫
I'll take the mead from the table
Talk straight while I'm able
Until I'm nothin' less than a crime
Zoro
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"Y'know, I actually have four swords, but we're gonna have to go somewhere more private if you wanna see the other one."
Rum, sake, beer, wine, whatever you're down for drinking so is he.
Zoro's got incredibly high endurance and stamina—it's going to take a while for him to show that it's affecting him at all, but once it does, he goes from zero to one hundred faster than you can say "onigiri."
Literally no in between, no tipsy or buzzed. Just sober and then stumbling over his own feet and swearing he absolutely is not drunk the whole time.
All those repressed emotions that he hides behind a mask of dry sarcasm on a day to day basis are coming out in full effect.
That means you're getting one of two Zoros—goofy Zoro or sad Zoro.
Goofy Zoro's going to have his arm around your shoulders, laughing his ass off about that time he caught that idiot Marine brat swinging his sword around bare-ass naked so he chopped off half his hair.
He's likely to get pretty flirty in this state, even downright playful, especially if you initiate it, and it's almost definitely going to end in him dragging you somewhere private to fuck your brains out, because his restraint is totally out the window at this point.
If you end up with sad Zoro, he'll be laying his head in your lap and slurringly asking whether or not you think he's ever really going to be the best swordsman in the world, probably still beating himself up over losing to Mihawk.
Just comb your fingers through his hair and do your best to reassure him that you love him and genuinely believe in him. Whether it works or not, he's going ti end up falling asleep in your lap, so be prepared to be stuck there for a while.
"But like...you really think, like, I can beat that bird-eyed bastard? I mean he fucked me up with a goddamn butterknife."
Sanji
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"There we are—a beautiful drink for a beautiful woman."
Turbo Flirt Mode: activated.
Sanji is all for pairing wine with food, but if you're looking to get a little sideways, he's going to want to show off his mixology skills to impress you—and he's going to be making some dangerous concoctions, the kind that taste like there's not a drop of booze in them.
The more lit he gets, the less subtle the flirting. If you thought he was clingy sober, you are in for a surprise, because that's just the tip of the iceberg.
Head on your shoulder, puppy dog eyes, telling you how pretty you are and how much he adores you every thirty seconds, with a big silly grin like you're the most amazing thing he's ever seen.
Brushing his lips along your neck and murmuring all the things he's going to do to you once the two of you are behind closed doors later—and he means every one of them, because you're utterly irresistible to him in this state.
He wants you giggling and blushing just as much as he wants you moaning and trembling under his touch.
Super playful once you are alone, even moreso than usual. He's definitely going to suggest doing body shots, he will beg if he has to, but honestly who in their right mind is going to turn him down?
"You're just...just so—so beautiful—honestly, it should be illegal."
Shanks
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"Hold—hold my rum—no, no, just for a moment, I wanna see if I can do a backflip off the railing—"
Spoiler alert: he can't. Now he's lying on the quarterdeck alternating between hysterical laughter and "Oh God that hurt—"
Probably the most fun drunk in the world, but he can be a hazard to his own health as his judgement begins to lapse so someone's going to have to keep an eye on him.
If you're at a tavern or otherwise public location, do not under any circumstances let the man out of your sight for more than two seconds. He turns into a straight-up child, he can and will wander off, and you'll find him a mile away on top of a building, likely half-naked and singing sea shanties at the top of his lungs, with no clue as to how he got up there...or how to get back down.
He's developed quite a high tolerance over the years and tends mostly toward dark rum, though he won't turn down a stein of ale or beer.
Total life of the party energy—telling jokes and stories, he just wants to see everyone laughing and having the absolute best time.
Super, super flirty, he may as well have written the book on pick-up lines; and he doesn't care that you're already together, he's going to drop every single one of them on you just to see how much he can make you giggle or roll your eyes.
He's very likely to pull you onto his lap at some point and make out with you like no one's watching—he already doesn't really care who sees when you're both sober, but he really doesn't care after a little too much rum, so it's probably best to coax him to bed at this point.
He's perfectly happy with cuddling up, laying his head on your chest and draping his arm over you, just humming in contentment and falling asleep together...but if you want more, don't expect to get much sleep, because he wants you lasciviously.
To taste every inch of you, to suffocate between your thighs until you're screaming, to pull you onto his cock and watch you ride him until you're both too breathless and exhausted to do anything but tangle yourselves together in the sheets and drift off to sleep between slow, sensual kisses.
"Oh, princess, just when I catch my breath, you make me lose it all over again."
Mihawk
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"If you insist on being such a brat about this, you're going to get what's coming to you."
Mihawk has a strong drive to be in total control of himself and everything happening around him at all times, which means he doesn't tend toward getting drunk.
But...he also has this wee little problem with his ego being larger than the entire volume of every combined ocean in the world. If you imply that you could drink him under the table...he's probably going to sneer and tell you to quit being a brat, but he's also going to be quite driven to prove you wrong.
He does love his wine, but it's generally only a glass or two to wind down and relax—he's definitely got a nice bottle of aged bourbon or eau de vie tucked away somewhere that's going to be coming out, because he's got something to prove now.
Unfortunately for him, due to the fact that he so rarely drinks heavily...he's a bit of a lightweight. Which he won't admit even to himself.
But it barely takes a single lowball of harder liquor to get that pale complexion of his a little flushed.
Perhaps just over three for him to start blinking a bit harder than normal in a futile attempt to get his vision to focus, to start speaking a bit slower to attempt to hide the slight slur in his words as you taunt him about it—which honestly only makes it more pronounced, and more amusing.
You had best enjoy it, because it's probably the only time you're going to hear the words, "Fine, you win," come out of his mouth—as well as perhaps the only time he won't be miffed about conceding. The alcohol in his system has him loosened up just enough that he can't pretend he doesn't find your boldness and sass at least a bit endearing...and even more alluring.
That being said, you're still getting punished for it, teased within an inch of your sanity, and he's going to enjoy every single second of it.
Setting his glass aside, plucking yours from your hand, pinning your hands above your head with a devilish smirk and slowly undressing you, his eyes on yours the entire time.
Trailing his fingertips across your bare skin, drawing closer and closer but never quite giving you want you want, his lips barely brushing against your neck, reminding you in an amused murmur in your ear that he could easily do this all night.
You did have the audacity to challenge him, after all—he has no choice but to remind you who's in charge.
"What is it, my little bird? Did you think you were going to get a consolation prize? You're still going to have to beg."
Buggy
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"Bet you two thousand Berries I can shotgun two beers at once, watch this—"
And he basically ends up halfway drowning himself, but hey, you're two thousand Berries richer!
Honestly, there's no party like a Buggy party, because a Buggy party doesn't stop until someone loses a limb—probably him.
No, really. Don't let him use his devil fruit abilities. Keep a bucket of sea water on hand if you have to, because he may literally misplace one of his limbs and you're going to have to go on a Chop Chop Scavenger Hunt to help him find it while you're both completely smashed.
If Buggy's drinking, everybody's drinking, and everybody is getting completely fucked up. This is non-negotiable, he thrives on chaos and that's what he's intent on creating.
Anybody who passes out before him is getting something obscene drawn on their face in permanent ink. He can definitely hold his liquor, so if you can keep up with him then you can expect to be the last two living souls left conscious on the whole ship.
That being said, he doesn't care who's awake—things are going to get kinky, and he's really not bothered about anybody watching. Or joining in, for that matter. This whole operation very well may devolve into a drunken orgy if he has any say in the matter.
Then again, it may also devolve into him flopping dramatically across your lap and divulging absolutely all of his trauma in an emotionally-charged alcohol-induced rant. He won't remember it in the morning, so please do him a favor and don't remind him.
"Hey, uhh...I los—I lost my foot again. .....Sor—*hiccup* sorry."
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mattsunnn · 8 months ago
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warnings! dacryphilia, vag-penetration, crying, big and thick dick wrio, curses, soft wrio, kinda mean wrio idk, sub/dom, tummy bulge
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thoughts!: wriothesley brain rot. that's it.
wriothesley! who finds pleasure in seeing you trying your hardest to sink down on his cock without a whimper or a cry. you would try to cover your mouth with the back of your hand as you slowly let his cock invade your insides, his hands on your hips but with no pressure to let you know you can go at your own pace
but he doesn't have that much patience to begin with.
especially with how your insides hug the tip of his cock so snuggly, keeping it warm in your cavern as you roll your hips to make the stretch comfortable. his cock twitches ever so slightly with the urge to sink you down to the hilt to feel you wholly.
"wrio... 's too big." you whimpered, eyes tightly closing shut to stop the tears from spilling out as you pulled your hips down an inch, successfully engulfing a bit of his length into you. wriothesley couldn't help but groan at the tears on your cheeks, your eyes glowing and sparkling from them as you look into his in a desperate manner.
he runs his fingers in circles on your hips to comfort you, eyes darting down to see where you two are connected. "you can do it, love. make me proud, baby."
you inhaled at the stretch from his length, letting out the air as you sink down again slowly, inch by inch. you feel like he's already at your stomach with how full you feel. "isn't this the hilt?" you whined, clenching your hands on his abs.
wriothesley couldn't help but let out a raspy laugh that makes your heart do leaps. he let his hands roam your hips, up to your waist and onto your breast, giving them a light squeeze. "you're so cute, love."
"but it's all i can take!-" you were cut off when you leg slipped, causing you to yelp and lose balance, fully sinking down on the cock penetrating you. tears immediately flow down from your eyes as you can really feel him on your stomach now. "so big."
"ah shit, you feel so good." his patience's running thin, couldn't help but roll his hips to feel stimulation. you moaned at that, hands finding purchase on his chest as you let him do what he wants now. wriothesley tugged you down with a hand on your nape to share a loving kiss with you, lips and tongue dancing with each other with passion and desire as his hips continued to move.
"you're so fucking pretty crying on my cock." he whispered between your lips, one of his hands pressing down on your lower stomach and groaning when he felt himself on the bulge. "can you feel me here, baby?" you sheepishly nodded, panting as you put a hand ontop of his, "big." he chuckled at your short response, it's like the only thing on your mind right now, just his big thick cock, your eyes glazing over with lust. he groaned at the effect he has on you and brought you down again to kiss you, biting your lower lip which made you whine from the slight sting before you kissed him back with the same vigor and desperation.
with the knowledge of him going so deep he can feel it, he couldn't help but start to move his hips up and down, a hand still pressed on your skin as he felt his length disappearing and appearing with the tandem of his hips. your moans and whimpers is what drives him on, wanted you to cream and cry on his cock.
his pace gradually increased as he couldn't control himself anymore. the feeling of your walls so warm around him is just so addicting he starts to drill his cock into you in a cruel pace. the squelching sound from how your sopping cunt tried to keep up with his speed and how his skin collided with yours brings redness to your cheeks. you can't help but moan and whimper evertime you feel his cock go to the hilt, thighs twitching as you feel the familiar churning within you indicating your nearing.
"co-coming, wrio..." you said breathlessly as you slumped down on his chest, letting him do as he please with your body.
"that's right, pretty girl. let me do the work for you."
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that's it. big dick wrio on my mind 24/7. pouring coffee at work? wrio. bagging orders in delivery? wrio.
nah i'm joking. (😩) you guys don't know how many times i searched if i'm spelling his name right😭
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erwinsvow · 8 months ago
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my heart swells at the thought of shy!reader kinda being overstimulated emotionally during rough sex with rafe and so she’s in doggy but reaches to hold his hand just to feel some affection from him☹️
this actually made me bark
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when you could keep your eyes open, you were staring at the wood of rafe's headboard, watching the way it was slamming against the wall and the repetitive thudding that filled your ears. if rafe wasn't fucking you so hard that you were close to losing your mind, you'd be worried someone in the house can hear the two of you.
your mind, always overactive even in times like this, wanders. first you allow yourself to get a little concerned someone can hear you, so you get quieter, shoving your head into rafe's pillow to muffle the moans leaving your mouth. then you worry someone can hear the headboard, the slap of skin on skin.
even when the pleasure is so overwhelming, building up tense and low in your stomach, entire body feeling like it's aflame when rafe grips your hips and slaps your ass in between thrusts, you still feel your mind wandering, slipping further and further away.
you want it to shut up, so you close your eyes, head resting on rafe's pillow again. you try to focus on your boyfriend's groans, the way the noises coming from him make your toes curl and a fuzzy feeling overtake your brain.
"yeah, fuck, kid, keep takin' it-"
he's saying something, and you stupidly wonder if he's been talking to you this whole time. you'd been too busy thinking about nothing to realize. you tune in, realizing what rafe's saying is a little bit of the opposite of what you usually hear from him.
you turn your head a little, opening your eyes to look back at rafe. he's still slamming in and out, his eyes focused on where the two of you are connected. rafe's always handsome, almost overwhelmingly so, but especially like this, when he's so focused on pleasure he's not as mindful of what he's saying.
"y'like that, huh? yeah, you wanna watch? like the little slut you are?"
"oh-"
it comes out low and quiet, a little sound that lets him know you're paying attention. if possible, his grip on your hips gets harder, fingers digging into the plush of your ass while he pushes down on your arch, increasing his pace. it's too fast now, too full and the stretch too much. you squeal into the pillow, eyes getting crossed while rafe's words ring around your head.
"fuck, good girl. my good little whore, aren't you?"
"um-" he keeps going, and you don't want him to stop. you try to shift around but he's holding you so hard moving feels impossible, so you settle for what you can move, lifting your arm to rest on your back, hand reaching out for him. "rafe, hand, please-"
you can't see his face, but you feel the weight of his hand on yours, before he pulls out and flips you over. you fall onto your back with a quiet yelp.
"you okay?" he asks, hovering over you. you feel empty, feel your pussy clench around nothing. then you feel bad—you hadn't meant to make him stop.
"s-sorry, rafe, i didn't mean stop, i just wanted to feel close to you-"
"was inside you. what'd you mean closer? you okay?" he repeats, and you feel your face flush, everything going warm.
"yes, yes. i'm fine."
"you sure?" you nod, looking up at your boyfriend. he moves your legs while you lay back, lifting them with his arms and lining himself up. and then he puts his palm flat on yours, fingers interlacing while he pushes inside. he fucks you like that—both your hands holding his, slowly and somehow still rougher than before, and even after both of you finish, he doesn't let go. you fall asleep with fingers intertwined with his.
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kitkat13001 · 1 month ago
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。𖦹 ⏾ ˚。⋆ 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚕 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚍?
>> tomura shigaraki x reader
>> brief mentions of injury and canon-typical violence (vague, nondescriptive), based on this post and lana del rey’s song ‘let the light in’, divider by @/anitalenia
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for as long as tomura can think of, he never really feared death. against all common sense, it never really felt like a possibility. he’s the symbol of fear, isn’t he? it can’t be game over until his mission is complete.
it’s seemed that way for so long now. this game of life in his mind, with his expendable lives and missions to complete. 
and then you came waltzing into his life, worming your way into his heart with that stupid smile on your face and fierce conviction in your eyes. 
and suddenly he had something to lose. 
it was a distant worry in the back of his mind as he held you in his arms late at night. but when you were injured on a mission, lying unconscious on the street a few feet away from him, it was the only thought on his mind. 
it’s still pressing on him now, even though he can feel the warmth of your body against his, the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe. 
it seems like everything’s going too fast lately, like time’s slipping through his fingers. it’s only a matter of time before he’ll have to undergo the procedure and go through with the plan. he knows you’re worried, even though you haven’t told him as much. he can tell by the way you look at him when you think he’s not paying attention. like he’s going to vanish into thin air at any second. 
he doesn’t blame you. in all honesty, he looks at you the same way.
you’re the only good in life. he’s always known that, but seeing you hurt only cemented the notion in his brain. it hits him just now, like a ton of bricks. it’s you. 
he doesn’t know how long he’s got left. but he knows that he wants to spend it with you.
“marry me,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple as he speaks. the words leave him before he can stop himself. marriage is a concept completely foreign to someone like tomura. it doesn’t mean anything to him. it’s not something people like him get—or deserve for that matter. but he doesn’t care. the selfish devil that lives in his chest wants to hold you close, keep you with him until your time together is up for good. 
“sure,” you mumble in reply, voice thick with sleep as you toss around in his arms. your eyes are still closed. 
just like that. you’re handing him the rest of your life on a silver platter. without thinking. without opening your eyes. no marriage certificate (fuck the government), no ring (you never liked jewelry that much anyway), no vows, no party, nothing borrowed or blue. just you and him for the rest of your miserable lives. 
“dance with me,” he says, giving your hand a gentle tug. 
“aren’t you just full of demands today,” you reply wryly, peeking one eye open and flashing him a coy smile. 
he tugs on your hand again, face pinching into a teasing pout. “c’mon, if we’re getting married we need a first dance.”
“first and only,” you snort, gesturing to your broken leg, propped up on a pillow and wrapped in a cast. “on what leg?”
he huffs, pulling you both into a sitting position. “i’ll carry you. just dance with me, okay? first ‘n only, i promise.”
“fine, fine. whatever my husband wants.”
oh. that’s new, he thinks. this absurd feeling like a hundred butterflies in his stomach. it’s so unlike him. he’s many things, of course. evil legacy? yes. murderer? for sure. criminal? absolutely. but husband? that’s something he never thought he’d be, not in a million years. 
he’s careful as he hauls you up, balances your weight against him and props your casted foot on top of his. 
he’s slow and gentle as he sways to the faint music kurogiri left playing on a record somewhere in the back of the bar. he takes in the feeling of you in his arms, indulging in this moment for as long as he can. just you and him for the rest of your lovely, miserable lives — however short they may be. 
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this is a little all-over-the-place, and probably incredibly self-indulgent, but what else is new? i couldn’t get the scene out of my head. also the dancing scene is twilight coded like at the end of the first movie when edward dances with bella at the prom w her broken ankle, please someone tell me you know the one 😩
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