#maintaining mutts

[ricochetfuel]

spokeishere??? what are you doing here???

[ricochetfuel]

love u guys (still eager to see if one of my fav artists on here will take my advance to becoming a mutual /siily)

me @ my mutuals

[ricochetfuel]

"did you mean it when you said you loved me?"

"dear, why would you believe that someone could ever love a weapon like you?"

—★—★—★—★—

god nobody can make me feel normal after imagining conversations that deal with ls!zam. nobody. nope. get away.

nobody said this to zam but i like to imagine things because im occasionally delusional when it comes to devotion duo.

[saiintvalentiine]

IM GONNA GET YOU. (this is in reference to ur post. i will not get u. i am tired. it is 10pm and i have to get up at like 5:30 tmrw. sighhhhhhh.)

oh shit oh fuck it's the feds fuck SCATTER BOYS

(please get some good sleep!!!! I will be here to get got tomorrow anyway)

[golden-girl-daisy]

Poor Honey has arthritis in both of her shoulders even though she’s only 3. The vet suggested she try PRP therapy

[ricochetfuel]

dont curse me please id rather fight a xenomorph

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

[konigsblog]

Giving Loser!König a handjob + blowjob. (🌽 link)

König is aroused by the size difference and the attention he receives from you. He finds it amusing that you struggle to wrap your fingers around the shaft of his girthy, lengthy cock. König's pale cheeks flush a rosy red at your surprised reaction, embarrassed by the way his hefty, hung cock springs from his boxers, almost too excited and thrilled to be in this position.

He looks away, averting his gaze from you as he shifts in his seat impatiently, waiting to feel your soothing, calming touch against his twitching, aching cock. König would be ashamed to admit that he's never felt the touch of a woman before, that they glare at him, judging him for his creepy and pushy behaviour and entitled attitude. But regardless, it's pretty obvious by his lack of experience, how he distances himself or obsesses over his new crush, and how he struggles to maintain a conversation with you without becoming perverted.

König's cock is incredibly large, and that's not an exaggeration. His slick, bulbous dick aches and twitches at your mesmerising touch. He's never received a handjob from another woman. Usually, his day consists of getting himself off for hours, until he's barely conscious and heaving like a filthy, dirty mutt in heat. He takes in a sharp breath and shudders, his eyes widening as you spit a glob of pearly saliva onto his weeping, drooling boner.

How can he hold it together when he has a pretty woman sucking him off, fawning over the ridiculously large size of his stiff, sweaty cock? König would be lying if he said he didn't appreciate the attention. Your compliments feed directly into his ego, and the addictive and hypnotising sensation of your fingers barely wrapped around his base and your warm, soft lips against his creamy tip leaves König delirious, barely able to mumble or string together a coherent sentence through ecstasy and pleasure.

[frudoo]

Two days too late, but here’s Price in lingerie ;)

Warnings: SMUT. John is bound by ropes. Humiliation/degradation. Ball gag. Lingerie, obviously. Boot grinding. Orgasm denial. Ass eating, anal fingering, prostate milking. Mentions of cunnilingus but no scene of it. Dom/sub dynamics. Fem!Reader.

MDNI

“On your knees, Captain.”

John’s bushy eyebrows furrow with disdain as he looks up at you from the ground, thick ropes tied taut around his biceps and forearms, wrists intertwined behind his back. Decorating his furry torso is a brown leather corset with mesh straps that fall off of his shoulders, and a matching mesh g-string that’s practically glued to his crotch, soaked through with his precum. It’s obvious by the pinprick size of his pupils that he’s ready to cuss you out—pity, given that he can’t speak around the ball gag you placed in his mouth.

“Look at you, fuckin’ slag. You’re loving this, aren’t you?” You tease, reaching down to gently scratch the underside of his chin where drool is pooling in his beard. “Wearing your wife’s lingerie like a cheap whore.”

John growls in annoyance, and you cock an eyebrow, wrapping your hand around his throat and applying the slightest bit of pressure. It does nothing to settle his bratty attitude. Scowling, you push the toe of your boot onto his throbbing dick, fingertips hooking on either side of his jaw so that he’s forced to be still and maintain eye contact with you.

“Keep it up and I’ll put you outside, you old mutt,” you hiss, smirking when you see the slightest resignation in his crystal blue eyes. “Yeah? Gonna behave, now?”

Your husband nods, and you pat his stubbled cheek in approval. Slowly, you rub your boot along his shaft, biting your lip at the sound of the paper-thin fabric of the panties squelching with every move. You tut down at him with a faux pout tugging at your bottom lip.

“So wet for me, baby,” you coo, watching the slow burn of his skin rising up, cherry-red arousal showing itself in his flushed neck and rosy cheeks.

John whines, hips bucking erratically in an attempt to get more friction on his leaking cock. His jaw is clenched tightly—you’re positive that when this is all said and done, the ball gag will absolutely need to be trashed, chewed up and destroyed like a dog’s favorite toy. His chest is puffing out with every heave, the leather creaking as it pulls tight around his torso, furry belly threatening to break loose.

“Gaggin’ for it, aren’t you?” You mock, grazing your fingertips over his scalp as he looks up at you with glossy eyes. “Oh, I know, honey. I know you need more.”

Your man nods, huffing through his nose as he leans forward to rub his cheek against your thigh. It’s pathetic—he looks like a kicked puppy, and you almost feel bad. Still, the past week of him being home from assignment had been nothing but John being an irritable bastard, taking his anger out on you in screaming fits, and you finally got sick of it. This is his punishment. You let him work himself up until his eyes are rolling back into his skull and you know he’s about to cum, then take a step back, watching as he stumbles forward and lands face-down on the rug. He grunts in pain and you suck in a breath through your teeth.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Cap, didn’t mean to make you lose your balance,” you snicker, striding around his tense body so you can see where his ass is in the air, completely exposed to the cool air of the bedroom.

“I was gonna have you lay on the bed before I play with this perfect fucking ass, but you just look so good down there, don’t you, baby?” You suck your teeth and give his right cheek a sharp smack, watching the way it ripples and rubbing the mark in a soothing motion.

John groans, the muscles of his biceps flexing so hard that you think he might hurt himself. You get on your knees behind your husband, leaning forward to press a couple of teasing kisses against his white-tinged knuckles where his fists are strained against the elaborately tied ropes. You leisurely kiss your way down to his hips, then the small of his back, until you reach the thin strap of fabric between his ass. You pull it back and snap it so that it hits his puckered hole sharply, making him whimper.

“That the spot?” You keen, repeating the action to watch as he shoves back against you, desperate for more.

Wasting no more time, you pull aside the flimsy g-string so you have complete access to his ass. You can hear John exhale heavily when you lick a long stripe up between his cheeks, flattened surface wet and scalding hot against his tight ring. He lifts his head as best as he can in an attempt to see you, huffing in defeat when you push him back down so that his cheek rests against the carpet.

“You don’t get to look at me,” you inform him bluntly, biting into the flesh of his inner thighs, then back up to your intended target. “Just take what I give you.”

John’s eyes roll back at the feeling of you spitting a glob of saliva onto his hole, allowing the tip of your middle finger to spread the fluid and prod his insides just slightly. It gets him moaning, though, and the sound is divine—enough to make you slowly insert your entire digit into the hot clutch of his ass, knuckle deep.

“So tight,” you mutter breathily, curling your finger downward the way he would if he was the one fingering you in this position.

Your husband pushes his hips back in silent invitation once again. A second finger makes its way inside of him, stretching the ring of muscle deliciously. You pump back and forth steadily, curving your fingers to press right up against his prostate and get him whimpering beneath your ministrations. He’s already pent up from earlier when you denied him his orgasm, clenching pathetically around the digits in his ass, unsure of what to do with his hands although they’re still bound. You shush him gently.

“Be good for me and I’ll give you a treat, yeah?” You bargain, scissoring your fingers inside of him. “Cum all nice for me and I’ll let you lick my pussy, that sound good?”

John nods frantically, squeezing his eyes shut tight as your fingertips relentlessly massage the sensitive patch inside him. There’s a squelch and then a milky substance coats your digits, creamy and slick as you fuck it back into him.

“Creaming all over my fingers, baby, you gettin’ close?” You purr, reaching your free hand around to cup his aching cock.

He ruts against your hand in response, more precum leaking from his slit into the crevices of your palm.

“That’s right, my big bear, cum for me. Show your wife how fucking capable you are of following orders. Yeah, you got it- yes!”

His gruff voice breaks when he reaches his peak, growls dissolving into soft little whines as hot semen spurts from his prick, seeping through the mesh fabric of the panties. His arms tense and rip the sleeves of the corset, making you laugh as you work him through the high. Once you feel his cock twitch and his body relax, you gently pull your fingers from his ass and give him one last spank for good measure.

“Did so good for me, John,” you praise with a whisper, helping him sit up before untying the ropes and removing the ball gag from his mouth.

John stretches his body as soon as you untie the corset, groaning low in his throat when his joints pop. He stands and removes the rest of the outfit before wrapping his burly arms around your waist and pulling your plush body down on top of him. You giggle, bracing yourself with your hands on his shoulders. He pulls you down into a heated kiss, wide palms splaying across your hips to drag you further up his body. He grunts when you hesitate.

“Sit on my face, baby, please. Never gonna yell at you again, swear it, just- please, sweet’eart, I want my treat.”

He begs so prettily with those baby blues, and it doesn’t take much convincing for you to oblige. After all, he was good for you. You go to slip off your boots, but-

“No. Leave ‘em on.”

Maybe you’ll need to put him in his place more often.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Contained Monstrous Family (2)

Part One•Three •Four

Unfortunately for the monster couple, this wouldn’t be easy

Your guardian your abductor is incredibly protective of you and the facility

Your uncle—your beloved guardian’s hate for all monster types is clear to everyone

Especially you, which is why you’ve taken it upon yourself to prioritize the upkeep of the creatures he imprisons

It’s only right that you should as the only person with the key to the intimidating man’s cold heart

That doesn’t mean that the monsters you maintain are free of pain

Far from it

“Hello, mutt.”

“...Grrr.”

“Puffing your chest never scares me. So…I heard you won’t behave unless my dear sweetums examines you themself?”

“...”

“So silent it’s like you're asking for my toys to make you cry.”

Unbeknownst to you, your Uncle knows exactly who’s in these cages

And that may fuel his urge to be harsher than usual

“Uncle! You can’t increase the electrocution anymore! You’ll fry that moth boy to death!”

“Calm child I wasn’t actually going to flip the switch that far…..”

“....Right then you won’t have a problem with me confiscating the batteries for this?”

“...Can I…get it back now?”

“Not until you’ve cooled off and promise not to kill him when I leave.”

"Awwww!"

Your uncle isn’t necessarily happy that you now care for the monsters he saved you from 

But he feels much better when he can watch the monsters wail and cry behind the bars of the cells he’s put them in

“This is why I rely on you (Y/n)...your forgiving nature gives you a power hardly anyone here can muster.”

“Sympathy?”

“Yes, for these monsters that eat babies, massacre mothers, and drain fathers. You truly are a treasure. My treasure.”

“Thank you, Uncle.”

“I love you dearly (Y/N). Which reminds me, don’t forget we have dinner later! Once you’re done fixing that insect, we’ll get mocktails and chat the night away.”

“Alright, Uncle see you later.”

The joy of their torturer stings 

But your care soothes even better

Even when the siblings haven’t quite recognized you for who you are yet 

They can’t help but gravitate towards you

“Waahhh~!”

“Alright don’t cry anymore, I’ll turn your lamp back on.”

“Wait! When you do will you keep patting my back?”

“Oh alright.”

“Yay!”

[thriftedtchotchkes]

safe & sound

pairing: finnick odair x reader

summary: after years of hard nights and bad dreams, finnick knows better than anyone how to make you feel safe again

warnings: post-mockingjay, established relationship, victor!reader, fluff, comfort, nightmares, brief depictions of death & anxiety

word count: 1.2k

(based on this request, tysm <3)

Callused fingers cradle your cheek while soft lips pepper softer kisses down the slope of your neck. They're a welcome reprieve from the terror that lingers after yet another bad dream.

Yet another night, forced to relive the greatest horrors of your short lifetime. Sometimes it's the arena, your hands covered in the blood of your fellow tributes, their small faces frozen in their final moments of fear.

Tonight's was somehow even worse. It was him, cruelly dismembered while you watched uselessly from the top of that damned ladder. You can still hear them clear as day, hissing your name instead of the Mockingjay's with voices much too human for their mutated, reptilian bodies.

But the games and the war are over now, you know that. You're not trapped in those tunnels anymore, or desperately tugging the love of your life to safety as the Capitol's mutts snap at his ankles in their violent attempts to drag him to his death.

Because in the waking world, they didn't. Finnick is right next to you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear that mean everything. Those gentle words spoken in the dark mean he's still alive.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart. It's not real. None of it is real," he mumbles carefully, shifting to mouth at the sweat-slick skin just below your jaw. The deep timbre and vibration of his voice are soothing, if only a little. "Take a deep breath—in through your nose, out through your mouth. Do it with me, come on."

You do as he says, tensing in anticipation, preparing for the overwhelming scent of roses, but it never comes. Instead, you smell seawater. It's strongest in his sleep-tousled curls, so you nose into them and breathe him in, letting your focus drift elsewhere. Somewhere safe.

Your next exhale is a little steadier, even more still when you repeat the action with him, once then twice. Slowly, everything you see, feel, smell, taste, is him. His lips meet yours, and your eyes remain open even as his flutter closed in your desperation to keep the familiar, nightmarish images that dance behind your eyelids at bay.

But as he coaxes your mouth open and buries his fingers in your hair to pull you closer, everything else begins to fade away. There's only Finnick.

You repeat it to yourself like a mantra—there's no one else here but Finnick. He's right here.

Blunt nails gently scratch your scalp, tensing to keep you near, to maintain the grounding pressure of his lips against yours, and the kiss deepens. But there's no heat behind it. Only the potent taste of sugar cubes and the persistent bite of determination. He won't give up until he banishes every awful recollection and replaces them with newer memories of comfort and peace—at least for the night.

Eventually, he pulls away, chastely pecking your lips a few more times when you chase him. Immediately, you feel colder, and as if he can sense it, he pulls you flush against him, resting his cheek on your collarbone.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks, a faint murmur as he peers up to meet your gaze.

There's concern in his eyes, and you wonder if you were screaming again. God, you hope not. It happens often enough, but even so, it's not something you think either of you will ever get used to.

You sigh and start to shake your head, but stop short. Do you want to talk about it? The answer is usually a resounding no—why dwell on anything that causes so much pain, that you've discussed over and over, practically to death?

And yet, for the first time in a long time, there are words on the tip of your tongue desperate to escape. Tonight, you actually do.

"It was bad, Finn," you whisper shakily, still falsely convinced you need to remain quiet so you're not overheard. "They got you this time. Tore you apart...ripped you to shreds, and I did nothing. None of us did. We let you die—sacrificed you for some greater good, but no one even tried," you spit out, your voice rising in anger the longer you recall your dream. "We could've saved you. We chose not to."

He stays silent, his arms tightening around you as a reminder of your reality. You're positive he can feel you trembling, and his brows knit together in what anyone else would assume is sympathy. But he understands. He felt that crippling fear back then and he feels it radiating off of you in waves right now.

Fighting to hide the intensifying quiver of your lips, you breathe sharply out your nose to dispel your misplaced blame. You didn't lose him, and so of course there's no one at fault. You repeat that like a mantra, too.

"You know, sometimes I wake up searching for you. l expect you to be gone like you were never here at all," you mumble numbly, but your body betrays you, finally giving in to the burning behind your eyes. "It feels like I'm suffocating. I can't breathe no matter how hard I try, and there's this huge weight on my chest, this crushing loneliness I can't shake."

A few stray tears fall against your will, and he brushes them away with a gentle swipe of his thumb before you can rub your skin raw. He cups your cheeks again, guiding you down for another kiss, and it's salty and wet, just like seawater.

You suddenly feel overwhelmingly grateful. Night after night, you go through this same routine, and he calms you without question or complaint, lovingly. After so many years, it feels like second nature to both of you. And when he has his bad nights, quieter than yours but no less traumatic, you soothe his unrest with stories from your childhood, of ocean spray and fishing nets filled to the brim on a stormy day.

Rolling you onto your back, he braces himself on his elbows to keep from crushing you while he shields you from the rest of the world. This bed—the light, scratchy fibers of home woven into your blanket and pillowcases—is the only world that matters, the one you've made for yourselves.

Finnick kisses you breathless, then fills your lungs with his air. You feel lighter. Relieved. Then he speaks and his voice is like a lullaby, better than any bedtime story with a happy ending meant only for you.

"But you always find me, right? When you open your eyes, I'm always here," he says so earnestly that it must be true. You nod, your eyelids growing heavier as the world fades into a wash of bronze and seafoam green. "It's okay to close them. Get some rest. I promise you, I'll be waiting right here in the morning when you wake up."

As you drift off, he lowers his body to rest carefully on top of yours, and his heat acts as a blanket to shelter you against the cool, salty breeze filtering in through an open window.

You're home. You're safe. Tonight, you believe it.

thanks for reading!

[charliemwrites]

Part 2 of mean ghost

Content: Simon being mean (again), non-con touching (not sexual), established kidnapping

You do this thing when you think you’re alone. Stretch out nice and slow - back arched, arms up, head back. You make a little noise in the back of your throat and then sigh nice and long as you relax. Sometimes even catch a yawn, rubbing at your eyes to fight off a wave of sleepiness.

You do it after waking from naps, cleaning, showering, even just sitting still for too long. If he interrupts - or you think he’s going to - you shrink down again, take up as little space as possible and try to work through your limbs one by one. Try to remain unnoticed, unobtrusive.

His stealth has never been so handy.

The most tempting is when you’re on the couch. You’ll lie on your stomach and stretch, ass tilting up like an offering. Then you’ll flop out all limp and satisfied, arms folded under your head, ankles crossed prim and proper. He wants to sink his teeth into the plush fat of your thigh.

“Wh-hey!”

You squirm; Simon’s having none of it, pins you with a harsh hand on the back of your neck. You yelp in surprise and discomfort, going still only because you have to. Unhindered, he continues to yank your joggers down over your ass, peels them to mid-thigh.

No bite marks.

“Fuckin’ mutt,” he grumbles to himself. “Doesn’t know how to play with you right.”

You make a high-pitched, distressed sound, hips shifting uneasily.

“Hush up,” he tells you absently.

You whine again, quieter this time, hands balling up into tight little fists by your head. He stares at the bare skin of your thighs, smooth and unmarked. Is sorely tempted to touch. Bruise. Bite.

Yanks your pants back up again instead and lets you go.

You scramble to the far side of the couch, curl up with your knees to your chest. Stare at him with big wet eyes.

“Wh-what…?” you breathe. “Why?”

He tilts his head. Your hair is all mussed up now, cheeks flushing with color and paling at intervals. Body not knowing how to react.

“I-I was just… sitting there,” you say like you’re trying to rationalize it to yourself.

“Because I wanted to,” he replies. That’s really all the explanation you need.

You sniffle a bit, blinking rapidly. Lashes already wet and sticking together with unshed tears. The light glitters in them.

“Was that scary?” he asks, taunting.

You sniffle again and don’t answer, pressing your lips together to keep them from trembling.

He rises onto the couch, still maintaining the distance you made. Stares as your eyes drop to your fidgety fingers, twisting and rubbing together to self-soothe. Keeps staring as you wrestle your breathing under control. Tuck your elbows into your side, compact. All set to hunker down until the predator loses interest.

“C’mere.”

Your head snaps up, breath hitching.

“M-me?”

“Who the fuck else?”

You lick your lips nervously, uncoiling a bit in a bid to buy yourself time.

“Y-you want me… over… there?” you say it like translating an unfamiliar language.

“Told you to c’mere didn’t I?” he rumbles. “And what’d I say ‘bout repeatin’ myself?”

“S-sorry,” you say, hands up as if in surrender. “Just… I just wanted to make sure I understood.”

“Thought I made myself pretty fuckin’ clear.”

Your silence and darting gaze disagree; he gives you a pass only because you scoot a bit closer. Within arms reach again. His hands twitch on his thighs. Your eyes dart down to the movement instantly, so hyperaware.

He flips his hand, curls a finger, beckoning you closer.

Your expression twitches, a complex amalgamation of the stages of grief. Then swallow and inch just a bit closer, as much as you seem able to stand. The tiniest sliver of heated air separates your bodies now, yours angled towards his with his weight on the cushion.

Fidgety hands again, and biting at your lip. About to shake out of your skin.

“What do you call me?” he asks.

You blink, head popping back a bit in genuine surprise. “Um… could you — what do you mean…?”

He narrows his eyes a bit, parsing your expression. If it were Johnny, he could make the biggest, saddest, wettest eyes in the world and Simon would know he’s being a fucking brat. Asking questions just to poke holes in his paper thin patience.

You, however, seem to be asking out of an abundance of caution. A desire to please him on the first try rather than risk failing at all.

“If you needed my attention,” he says slowly, watching a nonverbal I-would-never cross your pretty, vulnerable face, “how would you call for me?”

You tilt your chin down a bit. Tongue and teeth for weights and measures.

“I-I’d say ‘excuse me’,” you begin slowly. “Or, um, I guess if… if I was in another room…”

A longer pause this time. Long enough that he’s about to bark at you to spit it out.

“Mister lieutenant Ghost… sir…?”

He stares for a second. Feels the corners of his mouth twitching beneath the mask.

Makes his voice deep as he growls, “You call me sir or mister. Nothing more nothing less. Understand?”

You nod quickly. “Mhm.”

He narrows his eyes. You blink in return, notice he’s expecting something. Fidget again.

“Um, th-thank you,” you offer.

He huffs. Christ, what’s Johnny been fucking doing with you all this time? So polite and quick to learn, you just don’t know your manners yet. Haven’t been taught.

“Thank you, what?” he prompts.

“Oh,” you say as it clicks. “Thank you… sir?”

“You’re not sure if you’re grateful now?” he tsks.

“No!” you put your hands out quickly, trying to placate - still so, so careful not to touch. “I-I mean yes… um, yes sir. I… uh, thank you, sir.”

He considers you. Waits until you swallow thickly, leaning away as far as you can without scooting away again. Get that pretty gleam of tears again.

Clicks his tongue. “Off you go, then.”

You don’t ask where, just dart off the couch.

“We’ll work on it.”

Previous | Next

Masterlist

[ricochetfuel]

devotion duo my beloved </3

[ricochetfuel]

YES QUESTION ME LIKE ITS THE 1900S AND WE ARE IN AN INTERROGATION ROOM

bring back tumblr ask culture let me. bother you with questions and statements

[xazse]

more afab!satosugu x male!reader pls 🥹

Sorry this is just gonna be a quick thirst And NOT PROOF READ! SMUTT

Afab Satoru who loves when you eat him out from the back, spread his cunt nice and wide and finger him with your thick tongue. Don’t let up until you feel his pussy twitch and he’s cumming all over your face.

Afab Suguru who loves when you embarrass and degrade him as he bounces on your cock, calling him all sorts of names like bitch, mutt, anything you can think of. You aren’t helping him even a little bit as he tries to gather the strength to make himself cum.

Force Afab Satoru and Suguru to make out in front of you, make them suck on each others tongues, make them keep kissing until spit and drool starts to seep from their mouths. Of course you should make them rub their pussies together while maintaining eye contact with you the entire time, first one to cum loses the privilege of fucking themselves on your cock.

Afab Satoru and Suguru who have to resort to fingering each other on days where you’re busy, those days are spent with them making each other cum for hours: until one of them eventually taps out.

Afab Satoru who tries to find you in other people after a bad argument, it never works out and he comes crawling back into your bed at late hours of the night to hug your sleeping form.

Afab Suguru who doesn’t like when you talk to other people besides himself and Satoru. He has bad jealously issues he hasn’t attempted to work on.

You, who makes both of them suck you off, Suguru licking and pawing at your heavy balls and Satoru who traces the veins of your cock and definitely not neglecting your tip.

You who forces Suguru to suck on Satorus clit everytime his jealously gets in the way of your personal relations. You add fuel to the fire by also fucking Satoru whilst he does it. Satoru is dumb by this point: his heady head struggling to focus on two pleasure points.

Afab Satoru and Suguru who loves when you jerk off on their faces, mouths wide open, ready to accept anything you give them.

[ginnysgraffiti]

Hiii. I wanna say I love your works for all of Timmy’s characters. Ive gotten back into my timothee obsession and after reading your fic on what each character tastes like i was thinking maybe what sex is like with each of his characters? Feel free to ignore this if you don’t want to do it just thought I’d shoot my shot!❤️

so touched to see that someone appreciates my stories TT

i really tried my best with this, i hope i didn't leave any grammar mistakes here and there, enjoy! <3

&. LEE

for a while, lee refused to have sex. he was terrified of hurting you.

however, when you reassured him and told him it was completely okay, he let himself lose it completely and follow his instincts.

that's why sex with lee is rough, primal and wet, and you never actually doubted that.

nights passed in his pick-up, in motels where he would let you stay just to have more comfort and mainly a proper bed, at his aunt's house, anything.

sex with lee would be amazing everywhere, and not a time where he would refuse to dirty talk to you in the meanwhile.

he can fuck. over and over. he's like a rabbit. talking about him slowing down or stopping by himself, the thought wouldn't even cross his mind if your voice doesn't beg for it. he's fast. that's it. he's so damn fast, rough and shameless. he isn't used to matching his pace with his partner's or even taking their time with them, so it would take him some time to get used to your preferences or just maintain control.

lee would be sooooo loud. he would whine and grunt and beg. he also loves when you suck his fingers.

he even ties you up and blindfolds you while playing with your clit, thrilling the fact that you're oblivious about his next move.

the first time would probably be in some natural reserves, where he likes to spend most of his nights. he would fuck you hard on the back of his pickup, so the bright and shining stars could be the only witnesses. he would then take you inside, place you on the front seat and cuddle you to sleep on his lap.

he would start with needy and hungry kisses. everywhere. his tattooed hands would overstimulate you well to hear your moans even before starting. it would be the best adventure ever. he would try anything, all in. he would make sure to use his bony finger as best as he can, he would spread your legs like no one else and start with the damage. the real damage. because once he has the green light (and he always wants your permission) he won't stop. he will destroy you in any way possible. then, he would gradually slow down, return to use his fingers and feel you closer and closer.

he would watch hypnotized as milky fluid, both his cum and yours, leaks from inside of you. he would worship you as his most precious treasure.

&. HAL

do we seriously need to read how it would be to have sex with hal to imagine it?

there's not even the need to say anything, he's already on top of you.

hal is absolutely vocal, desperate groans, loud curses that never leave his mouth.

his mouth is always, always wide open as his pupils roll back.

dom for sure, he's too prideful to be below you, but if you beg enough, maybe he'll let you inside him. he's into fucking you when you're on all fours on the bed, maybe it's a king-thing, but you love it.

he never actually stops when you beg him to, but he absolutely cares about your body after the act.

you're his queen, but when hal is needy you can happily forget about your queen duties. his words, not yours.

he's also into pet play, you're his mutt and he makes it known.

he often enjoys to make you scream his name, moan louder and louder to make sure the messengers, maids or court servants hear you through the door.

making them hear the bed cracking, the slaps he keeps giving you to see your tears softly running down your pale cheeks, the way you lose your breath as he pulls your hair to almost make you swallow his cock.

he's violent, let's say, but he can actually care. really care.

he always adds "my" in front of pet names. my whore, my queen, my sweetheart, my love, my angel.

his kinks include cock worship, absolutely, breeding (we don't need to mention it), power imbalance, exhibition, humiliation (giving, of course), sadism (uhm...).

you never actually discovered how far his sadism can really go, and that scares you a little bit, hearing the servants' opinions or stories about it.

you know he's capable of anything, anything.

however, he makes sure, every single night, to massage you properly during the aftermath, kissing softly every inch of your inner tights while his finger tips play with your nipples.

&. LAURIE

laurie is a softie big cuddly boyyyy.

he waited so long for you to tell him you loved him before he made any sexual advances. he wanted it to be purely making love; not having sex.

he always will treat you first, you're his everything.

he would always clean you first, massage you first, check you out before even looking at himself.

not the most vocal, but definitely not silent. laurie prefers to let out soft moans and quiet praises rather than being vocal and over the top.

he would treat you more like a best friend in public, gently stealing you cheek kisses or holding your fingers under the table. he would eventually tease your inner thighs when -absolutely rarely- he would feel like doing it.

he's a sweet boy, the most intense he gets is probably the occasional slap on the ass when you look or sound too good.

laurie loves your lipsticks. he knows every single one you own and how every single one tastes. when they have a more visible colour and you leave kiss marks on his neck, he would surely refuse to remove them. also, he's into asking you to leave kisses on his shirts.

he's a romantic boy, come on.

during sex, he would always hold your hands. always, never letting go, holding onto you as if you were his only lifeline.

&. ELIO

elio is just like lee, absolutely vocal and completely down for you being on top.

he just lives for that shit, being submissive and guiding your hips as you take complete control.

sex with him would be difficult, because mafalda would always check the sheets and or his night underwear, and you know that elio needs to be careful. however, he's absolutely good and skilled at letting you enter his room late at night.

at the same time, during sex, he would worry often about noises and bed cracks.

in fact, he's totally whiney and whimpery, you have to kiss him to swallow his drawn out moans and don't let him lose control.

as written before, elio is obsessed with just going dumb, he wants you to control him, make decisions for him and use him whenever you want. he's definitely into being your pet, just being a complete boy toy for your use.

you don't always understand the difference whenever he wants you to take the lead or brutally use him, but again, it's clear that he wishes for both.

he loves receiving head, and thinks you're magic the way you work his length when he literally begs for it.

would cry often during sex just from the sheer overwhelming pleasure, always begging you to hold him through the tears.

he's absolutely insecure and would overthink the aftermath for entire weeks, shyly asking you if you enjoyed it, or if he had hurt you or if you still love him. his head goes completely dumb at your every touch, but he constantly needs you to confirm that that's what you want as well.

after the first night, he would suffer every instant he doesn't get to enjoy with you, so he would furtively touch himself or steal your swimming costume.

&. PAUL

deep down, paul is a lover boy.

he had been having visions about you for ages and he would just wait for you to get pregnant in his visions and wish for it to happen as soon as possible.

at the same time, paul isn't a very sexual person, but he enjoys pleasing you whenever you ask him.

during sex, he would always go slow and hold you the whole way through, being as gentle as he can be even when you ask him to move faster. he would eventually lose it as soon as you arch your back, moaning at the friction between your hips.

he often has fantasies about using the voice on you, but he would be way too nervous to tell you about it. in his head, using the voice over you is absolutely arousing.

you soon discovered paul had many kinks, for example calling you mommy (even lee would do that, of course.)

you absolutely adore when he moans, because you can always find a little hint of shame and insecurity, but as soon as you take the lead just to reassure him, his guttural sounds make his whole body throb on top of you.

he would be absolutely careful and use protections, always, except when his visions are too frequent and he would literally kill to get you pregnant, turn you into a mommy and have babies.

you surprisingly discovered that he is down for your cuts or wounds. he often offers to train with you, even if he knows you're so much more experienced than him, but he would just love to lick your fresh blood or your healing wound to feel his tongue fizz.

paul is obsessed when you pull your hair, begging you to make you cum with absolutely no shame.

&. WILLY

sex with willy can be a literal rollercoaster.

he can become extremely needy during sex, and with needy...i mean needy. almost in a very childish way, if we consider that he's impressively incompetent and inexperienced in that field.

once he's inside you, he is shy about it, asking if it's okay if he kisses you deeper or grabs your waist or simple gestures. he always needs to have your permission.

he slowly gains confidence the longer you two are together and the more you are imitate. he would pull you away and just whisper how much he wants you. sometimes, even dirty things, but you never understood if he had a special chocolate to let him gather enough confidence for that.

he can be extremely perv and dirty minded, but he'll never admit it.

he's obsessed with leaving hickeys on you.

he would occasionally start meowing and doing his :] face when you mess with his curls.

if you pull his air while you're on top, taking his cock the best way you can, there will be no return, seriously. he would fuck you all night, and i'm not joking.

willy's got stamina, he really does.

loves to be submissive, there's no need to say it.

just like elio, he would be deadly aroused when you use him like a pet, sometimes he would beg for you to blindfold him or tie his wrists.

in these cases, his wet tongue would do all the work.

loves to smell the sheets after you two had done it, he just loves that smell.

his moans are the sexiest thing ever, but he's more frequent to make small sounds and groans.

when he's on top, willy would use sweet nicknames, tongue twisters or rhymes to sweeten you even more.

if your body hurts he would massage it carefully and give you a special chocolate treat to regain energy.

right after sex, he would be scared to death that you could get pregnant. have mercy, he just doesn't know how it works.

willy is the fastest learner, though.

given that he doesn't know how to start, he willingly accepts all your advice, and knows how to follow them to the letter.

once you give even the smallest instruction, he would just be more and more needy.

[killerpancakeburger]

Imagining a Soap who snaps at Reader on their first meeting.

Pic is from one of @esteljune wonderful gifs <3

Thinking they're higher up the ladder than they really are, he rants about unfair or illogical orders. Price, Reader's superior, smiles knowingly while witnessing the scene, but doesn't interfere— you may not look very imposing, but if there's one thing you don't tolerate, it's being berated for something that isn’t your fault.

Once Johnny's rhythm starts to falter, only then you speak up.

"Are you done?"

Your tone is acid, the question rhetorical— but the sergeant is so lost in his resentment that he misses it. He makes the mistake of opening his mouth again. You don’t leave him the opportunity to answer.

You rip into him overtly, yet not without maintaining the polished language that suits a professional relationship. If anything, it only makes the result stings your target more.

After saying your piece, you walk off without sparing him a single gaze, like he already stopped existing in your mind. All he can do is watch you leave in abrupt silence, mouth agape, Price smacking his back with mock sympathy. 

His captain is saying something about thinking twice, but his brain is spinning with thoughts of you.

In the ensuing days, he finds himself stupidly, irrevocably obsessed by you, undeniably infatuated. He follows you around despite himself, reminding you of a lost puppy. Gone is the angry mutt that barked and snarled at you.

At first his presence only manages to amplify your disdain, but eventually his genuine efforts to earn your forgiveness and, later, forge your friendship, bear fruit.

I am SUCH A SUCKER for the "character A get told off completely unexpectedly by character B and becomes obsessed with them afterwards" trope— even better if A has a scary reputation (whether true or not) and B is a sweetheart or a scaredy-cat.