#writers block had me in a tight grip

[jgrills]

Hurt.

- warning: THIS IS A FIRST TIMER WRITING FOR VI 😭. (feedback is appreciated and vi might be ooc????)....guys can November come faster.......( ´_ゝ`) srry it's short I'm getting an experience for writing for her...

Tw: blood & injuries!!!

includes: platonic reader and Vi.

Everything had happened so fast: Jinx's monkey bomb went off in the warehouse, Vi went to jail, Caitlyn and Vi left each other, powde-Jinx launched a bomb at the council.

You had worried about Vi; she no longer seemed to be the headstrong, snarky person she used to be. She had dyed her hair black and started illegal pit-fighting, drinking and smoking her troubles away. She had told you about seeing Caitlyn, her beautiful blue hair and silhouette at one of her matches, in her uniform, her eyes staring everywhere but Vi. But when she looked back, she wasn't there—only a chaotic crowd, yelling and betting on the match.

Once again, she was curled up on her bed, the sheets and covers messed up and on the floor, numerous alcohol bottles by the trashcan, along with some cigarettes, with you sitting beside the bed, trying to give her all the comfort you possibly could.

"You gotta sit up, Vi" you softly utter, holding the peroxide and bandages in your hands.

She grunts, reluctantly sitting up, not looking at you, wincing when the peroxide touched her wounds. She just closes her eyes when you get the injuries on her face, and getting the dripping eyeliner off her face, just enjoying your touch, and your carefulness.

Your heart broke just seeing her like this; she was going through it, and you didn't know if you could fully help her through it, and help her cope. The light in the dingy space was the only light you had, just to see her. You had finished bandaging up her wounds, and dealt with her split knuckles and lip.

When up go to get up, she hugs you tightly, putting her head on your shoulder, and you hug her back, the closeness bringing her some comfort, making sure to avoid any bandaged wounds, in order to not irritate them. Her arms were wrapped tightly around you, not wanting to let you go, as her bluish grey eyes closed, starting to relax.

You had stayed with her the whole night, the dingy lights flickered on and off until Vi got some sleep. You brushed your fingers through her black hair, Vi moving every now and then, as you looked at her, she had no hint of conflict on her expression, just closed eyes and small snores.

She'd know you'd be there for her all the time, just like when you both were kids.

No matter what happened.

🩹 @jgrills ty tv girl for helping me out ^^

[k2ntoss]

doing a part of the request my fave jason simp, 🦊 anon, made some time ago AND THAT I FEEL BAD FOR REPLYING UNTIL NOW

so writer's block who? i just needed a sex and the city episode to pull out this so here we fucking GO

it's been quite a while since sleeping on jason's place is a regular thing, not only sleeping but spending time there on his free time watching him cook or just sit together to read a book. it's by far the best feeling ever because even if he isn't fucking you into oblivion during the night being by his side feels just right.

despite everything being so perfect and nice there are some boundaries he isn't letting you cross yet and the reason? explained properly and understood by you, he was trying to make sure you'd be safe without anyone finding a way to get to you and hurt you wanting to hurt him with it. that meant not leaving personal stuff on his place, it was risky to let you spend so much time around but he couldn't resist it, jason loved being able to have his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he read on the couch, leaning in every now and then to kiss your cheek.

the room was still dark, it was early when you had started to wake up from your slumber to squirm under jason's arm that was holding you tight against his chest as he nuzzled his face against your back, the feeling of you wanting to escape his grip makes him drag you more into his embrace and a soft grunt leaves his throat when he finds himself unable to bury his face into your hair "where are you going, ma?" he asks, still more asleep than anything as jason still has his eyes closed.

"i need to get ready, love" the reply reaches him and even with that information jason refuses to let go of off you, his arms now wrapped around your hips as you try to get out of his bed, dragging with you the sheets for a whole second before you almost fall from the bed "jay, i really, really need to leave the bed..."

"but it's still dark, you can't leave yet... i want to sleep a little more and i want you here with me" the smile that reply steals goes missing for him, poor guy is still almost fully asleep but he clings onto you for dear life even knowing you probably have something to do during the day before he's able to hold you again "just one more hour. then you're free to go, angel"

"i need that hour to get ready, jaybird" you chuckle, shifting a little under his arm as you try to push it away from you and when you finally escape the death grip jason has on your body the lazy walk to the bathroom is filled with the guilt of leaving him all alone to get ready for something that wouldn't be as nice and warm as your lover's embrace. picking up your clothes and stuff to get ready you rethink and the final choice is clear as water, that much you don't even realize when you started to lift the comfy sheet to push jason a bit "you win... i'll stay here"

the fact that jason isn't fully awake makes his pretty smile even prettier because he scoots a little with his arms ready to hold you again and once you lay back on his bed he leans in to kiss your lips and almost as if sleepiness was contagious you found yourself kissing him back and ready to drift back into your dreams where just like in the waking, you'd stay into jason's arms. hiding your face against his neck, arms wrapped around his torso and one leg drapped over his hips it's nice and warm to feel his big hand caressing your thigh softly as his lips kiss tenderly your neck making you smile widely.

there's a sweet sense of intimacy on his touch and even if the tiredness washes over both of you, jason's hands are now holding your hips to press you against his body and between soft and tender kisses, his hands and yours start to pull off the little amount of clothes you used to sleep. his practiced hands run sweetly over your skin, undoing the clasp of your bra and taking it off while your hands pull up his shirt, fingers gently caressing his scars as he kissed a trail across your jaw.

"you're just so pretty..." jason's gruffy voice makes you shiver and under the sheets his body is pressed flush against you, his hands holding your waist as he rolls his hips against yours as if testing waters and there's nothing that would make you leave his side. not now, not ever.

"i love you so much, red..." you mutter against his chin, letting out a breathless moan when he's able to push into you, his movement is anything but hard. he takes his sweet time to settle between your inner walls, letting out a soft groan accompanied by a content smile when you wrap your arms around his neck to snuggle against him.

"love you too, ma" he whispers against your temple, he has his eyes closed as he enjoys the warmth you provide and he knows that even in the dark place his life is you're everything he will ever need. with a soft sigh he starts moving, slow strokes as he holds onto your hips while muttering sweet nothings into your ear.

the whole room is filled with the tenderness of the moment, silent gasps and soft moans as he held you as if you could break if he got too rough. your lips peppering his jaw and cheeks in soft kisses as he rolls his hips into you making your breath hitch everytime he hits that sweet spot and the chill of the morning feels like something so strange because your morning is sweet and warm while jason is by your side.

time seems to go by slower, lips swollen from the kissing to drown the soft grunts and to delay everything a little more until you feel jason's slow strokes faltering before he spills himself inside you, drawing a soft moan from your lips as your own release washed over you making your body clench around his in a delicious grip. the room is now filled with nothing besides the soft pants of your breathing, his hands caressing soothingly your waist as you nuzzled your face against his neck.

"can't you stay here today? i don't feel like letting go of my pretty princess" jason asks quietly, his voice is still a bit gruffy and he looks sleepy despite what you just did. it's impossible to leave him like this, shiny eyes and messy hair, looking happy finally because he had his little world into his arms.

[queer-n-here]

Omg imagine Chuuya using his ability to ride you harder

Oh my fucking god, what writer's block?

This just blew me away for no reason at all, bro what?

Contents: Chuuya using his ability while riding you.

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, biting, marking, riding, daddy kink.

Chuuya was far from satiated.

He had been riding you for a while now, back dripping sweat as he grinded down on your cock for the nth time, breath uneven and sped up, eyes filled with tears that had not yet fallen.

His naked body was moving in a way so slutty you had to grip his waist and leave marks on his skin to remind yourself that he was real, here, and not a dream.

His dishevelled hair stuck to his sweat-covered forehead, his lips chapped and bloody from your rough kisses and his own teeth. There were bite marks all over his neck, chest, torso; you hadn't left a single inch of his pale skin untouched.

You were sitting back against the headboard of your shared bed, Chuuya in your lap as he bounced wildly on your cock, loud ah-ah-ahs echoing around the room as sounds of skin slapping skin almost drowned them out. His fingers were gripping onto your shoulders for balance, gripping so hard you knew he'd drawn blood with his blunt nails without needing to look.

But it wasn't enough, wasn't enough, just WASN'T.

Chuuya suddenly glowed black, his trembling thighs outlined by the glow that seemed to come from every inch of his skin. You felt the weight on your thighs increase suddenly, and he sunk down so low on your dick that even your balls were embedded into him.

"Fuck, Chuuya," You gasped, fingers digging even deeper into his skin as he grinded down on your cock again, using his ability to take you even further.

"Ngh!" Finally, your tip hit that spot that you could find so easily in him.

Ecstatic, he did it again, hips eager and wanting, eyes finally dripping tears. He cried out as he sped up, his movements somehow even wilder, the only thoughts in his head ways on how to chase that pleasure.

"F-fuck yeah," Chuuya gasped, jaw loose. "Ah, feels so good, [Name]!"

You hardly had the breath in you to speak, what with him going to town on your cock like it was his last day on earth, clenching so hard around your cock you saw stars.

"Such a little slut, Chuuya," You managed to say somehow. "Using your ability like this, heh, who would have thought? You like it that much?"

And he nodded in response, eyes glazed over. "Daddy's little slut. Only yours."

Your eyes widened, and then you chuckled, pulling Chuuya close and letting him bury his head into the crook of your neck as he continued assaulting your cock. You knew full well he would rather admit to being short than repeat his words once he could think again, but the moment was raw, and so you decided to push him a little more.

"Daddy's slut, huh?" You murmured into his ears, your hips rising to meet his half-way through. "Such a good slut, taking all of my cock so well. You sure know how to please daddy, don't you, Chuuya?"

He nodded, arms wrapped around you so tight it was as if he was afraid you'd leave without cumming in him.

He was trembling all over now, and even with the assistance of his ability, his movements had gotten sloppier. You knew he was close, so you reached forwards, grabbed the hair at the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss.

When he came, ropes of come shooting out of his dick, he collapsed almost immediately against your chest, panting. You kept going, thrusting up into him for your own orgasm, and he let you.

Once you'd painted his walls white, you slowed down to a stop.

Chuuya refused to get off of you, so you let him lay on you, cock still buried deep into him, even though his ability had withdrawn.

A moment passed, and you let him catch his breath.

You planted chaste kisses all over his face, making him smile softly, eyes closed. There was a big mess where you two met that you knew you had to take care of, so you carried him to the bathtub. Even when you sat down in the water, holding Chuuya in your lap, he hadn't let you pull out of him.

For a while, there was a comfortable silence.

Then, "So... Daddy, huh?"

As you burst into laughter, Chuuya smacked your shoulder weakly, ears red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"Fuck off," He mumbled, burying his head deeper into your shoulder.

"On a more serious note, though," Your smirk faded into a soft smile, and you peeled him off of you just enough to look him in the face. "If you're into that just tell me, hmm? I don't mind."

Your voice was so quiet, and your expression so gentle that even Chuuya couldn't bring himself to deny it. Yes, he was into it. And yes, he was very, very embarrassed about it.

So he said nothing, choosing to return to the crook of your neck instead, and you let him. It was a silent conformation, the best you could get out of him.

[msgexymunson]

Brand Spanking New

Description: You unlock a new kink with your boyfriend Eddie: Spanking. 

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I will clobber you (and not in a good way), established relationship, sub fem reader x dom Eddie, spanking, hair pulling, p in v unprotected sex, rough but aftercare 

A/N: My phone keeps changing the word ‘spanking’ to ‘Spanish’. Don't you know me at all???? Also just trying to break writer's block by slamming out a lil smutty smut. Enjoy!

Reblogs and comments supply the oil that keeps the cogs and springs in my steampunk heart running. 

1.2k words

Masterlist

Grinding hot and heavy in his lap, your lips slip against his, sucking at the bottom one to attempt to satiate the need to have something of his inside of you. He’s groaning loud in your mouth, firm hands gripping into the flesh of your bare thighs for dear life, need radiating out of every subtle thrust of his hips. 

It's too much for him suddenly, the need spilling out as he taps your leg to silently ask you to lay down. If you feel the slight tap, you don't let it affect you, continuing your harsh grinding motions over his heavy bulge. 

His lips lose contact with yours, trailing burning kisses to your neck, as he whispers deeply in your ear. 

“Lay down baby girl.” 

How can you when it feels this good? When the shape of his dick is rubbing against your panties, the gusset sodden with your slick. 

His hand leaves your thigh, but only briefly. The crack of sound happens first, bursting in the air. The pain shoots up your leg moments later. Then, the realisation hits your brain. He hit your thigh. Hell, he spanked you. 

And you liked it. 

Time seems to stop as you gasp, locking eyes with him. 

“You liked that, didn't you?” That age old self satisfied smirk of his tugs at his face muscles as you pull your lips into a tight line, attempting to hide the raw desire that simple gesture had ignited in you. 

“What makes you say that?” 

Without a further word, his hand cracks down again, your thigh jiggling with the force. A desperate, ragged moan pushes out of your chest. 

“That.” He says smugly. “Hands and knees. Now.” 

The spell of his words have you acting without thinking, bending to his will with an empty mind and parted knees. 

“Just like that, good job baby girl.” 

Crack! His large hand lands again, this time on the supple skin of your ass, body nearly falling with the shock of it. Eddie's fingers dig into your hips, forcing you back into position. 

Crack! This time on the other cheek, a pornographic moan expelling from your chest so fast it hurts your throat. 

“Fuck, you do like that, don't you,” he says as his fingers rub at the wet spot on your panties. Moaning, you arch your back, moving into the touch of his fingertips. 

Crack! Again, a stinging blow that rips another groan from you. 

“I asked you a question,” his voice is hard, but the faintest sign of amusement clings to it like a gossamer web. 

Y-yeah, yes, I do Eddie, please-” 

Fresh air hits your cunt as he pulls down your underwear, strings of your arousal refusing to let go of them.

“Fuuuuck,” he says, fingers whispering through your wetness, spreading it around, “didn't know you wanted it like this. Was trying to be all sweet with you.” 

The next thing you hear is the jingling of his belt as he slips off his jeans and boxers. Wiggling in anticipation you back up a little, begging to feel the tip of his length. 

“Hey, stay still,” he says, using his swollen dick to tap at your clit, “or I'll just cum all over this ass instead. Understood?” 

“Yes Sir.” 

The sharp intake of breath and the sudden feeling of him crowding your back tell you all you need to know. 

“If I'd known all it took to get you obedient was a few spanks I'd have been smacking you around for months… Wait, no, that doesn't sound right.” 

You can't help but giggle, but it's swallowed whole by the feel of his member swirling around your entrance, gathering slick. Then, he pushes into you, mutual moans dragged out by the feel of him sliding against your quivering walls. 

Rough fingertips hold you steady as he leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. 

“You OK baby girl?” 

“Uh huh,” you manage, eyebrows knitted with the sheer stretch. 

“You know I really care about you, right?” 

“Yeah?” You respond, nearly a question as you tilt your head to try and get a look at him over your shoulder. 

“Good, ‘cause I'm about to fuck you like I don't.” 

There's no further warning, just the harsh grip of blunt fingernails denting into your hips and powerful thrusts forcing you closer to the mattress with each push. Each move makes your eyes roll back and whimpering sounds spill from kiss bitten lips. 

“Come on, stay up, atta girl.” 

His voice is steady, just a few puffing breaths like he's on some Sunday morning jog and not pounding you into next week. Its punctuated by a fiercer slap to the side of your ass that makes your pussy convulse. 

Arms shaking with effort, you try to stay up, but the pounding rhythm is too much. There's just too much Eddie. Eddie, forcing his fingers into you hard enough to bruise, Eddie, grunting meanly with each thrust, Eddie, his cock grinding into your sweet spot so hard it almost hurts. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. 

You don't even realise that you're chanting his name over and over until you hear him chuckle behind you. 

“That's it, keep saying my name. And. Stay. Up.” 

Each word is punctuated by a drive forward that ripples through your body in waves, the sound of him gritting his teeth while he says it making you wetter by the second. 

“I- I can't, y- you're making me- fuck.” 

He laughs mirthlessly, humping into you even harder somehow, and winds his fingers into your hair, pulling it by the root. 

“Aww, have I fucked you dumb princess? You gonna come?” 

Words are beyond you, not even able to nod your head due to his tight grip. Seconds later you're screaming your release so high and loud you'd be surprised if no one called the police. It certainly felt like a near death experience, your vision darkening and fuzziness expanding through your limbs. 

It's not long before Eddie's yanking you upright and groaning into your ear as he looses his load deep in your cunt. 

He sits back on his heels, pulling you close so you can perch in his lap. Gone is the dominant, mean side. Your Eddie is back; stroking your hair and making soothing noises as he wipes stray tears you didn't even know had fallen. 

“You OK sweetheart?” He asks, voice brimming with concern. 

“Hmmmm.” It's nearly a purr, still incapable of speech. 

“You just lay down right here, that's it, arms here, lemme grab a cloth.” 

Coming back moments later, he cleans you up and offers you some water. 

“Sorry if I went overboard princess.” He sounds almost sheepish as he says it, a blossom of embarrassed colouring tattooing his cheeks. 

“No, you didn't, honestly. I think I could sleep for a week though.” Giggling, you lace sleepy fingers with his. 

“Good, ‘cause there's other stuff I think you'd like.” 

You're not even sure you heard him right, eyes drooping already. 

“Other stuff?” 

“Shhh, sleep baby girl, I don't wanna scare you just yet.” he chuckles, kissing your temple as you drift off to the feeling of his fingers carding through your hair.

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes

[k4vehrtz]

WHORETICULTURE. various jjk men / sub gn. reader

synopsis. filled with lust for some fucking guy.

who. nanami kento / satoru gojo / toji fushiguro / heian era! sukuna . ✦ . what. one night stand / unprotected sex / mild religious themes/ thigh riding / slut shaming / against a wall / mean dom (or just brat)! satoru / exes with benefits / exhibition / recreational drug use + alcohol consumption ergo dubious consent / oral (r giving) / body betrayal / brat! reader / implied cnc kink + masochism / domination loss / mild degradation + nipple play / double penetration

notes. terms are kept general thus gender neutral reader but it’s entirely up to your interpretation. a mini compilation of thirsts i had while attempting to fight writer’s block and an unforgiving schedule.

⸻ ## I KNEW IT WHEN I. . .

MET HIM !

[ NANAMI KENTO ]

nanami kento was the embodiment of the traditional man in every sense. he was a businessman — clad in a white button–down, black slacks, and a matching tie hanging around his collar. five days a week, monday to friday, nine a.m. to five p.m. a true provider.

that much you can assume from observation alone. he’s not like the usual crowd; the man stands out. so, it’s only natural that you become curious.

“i’m not above sex before marriage,” and when he speaks, he takes his time to carefully enunciate each word with practised precision. something you didn’t know you were attracted to until now, straddling his thighs.

“somethin’ tells me you’re not just a—” he presses a finger to your lips, interjecting, “if you’re suspicious of me we can always stop,” and you quiet down, rocking your hips back and forth as you feel his erection grow beneath your crotch.

the backseat of his car is a tight fit but it makes it all the more intimate. remnants of nicotine on his breath waft across your face, warming your skin.

“the windows are tinted,” he murmurs, tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb, “it’s as private as it’s going to get,” before inserting the aforementioned finger into your mouth.

you smile to the best of your ability, wet muscle swirling around the salty digit as you maintain your grinding. slow and steady, purposeful movements that prompt just the right amount of friction between the two of you.

“isn’t this—” nanami interjects once more (you can barely get a word out), by way of pressing his thumb against your tongue thus causing a copious amount of saliva to cascade down your face. it’s wet and messy and done entirely for his own amusement. “we’re not celibate.”

[ SATORU GOJO ]

“do you—” he pauses mid–sentence, startling blue eyes fixated on his cock sliding in and out of your puffy entrance before continuing, “usually sleep with the stranger that saves you from a creep at the club or am i special?”

if you could’ve, you would’ve rolled your eyes. he’s talkative — too talkative but you find yourself enjoying the sound of his voice anyway. your hole quivers and tightens, gripping him like a vice at the implication that hangs between the two of you.

“i’m not easy ‘toru,” you protest in a weak attempt to sound firm though it leaves your parted lips as a breathy whine instead. and satoru smiles at that, chest rising and falling rapidly as he laughs.

“when did i say you were easy, stupid?” he asks, feigning innocence as he tilts his head to one side, bringing one hand up to your face to pat your cheek.

the action being somewhat degrading in its own sense. but ‘toru — satoru — was just like that. saying one thing and meaning or doing another. you couldn’t wrap your head around him.

and he revels in the fact, his smile continuing to grow; the type that meets his eyes and makes them crinkle ever so slightly.

“you wound me,” he tsks, bringing his lips closer to your ear as your body jolts upwards against the wall in sync with his cock bullying your hole, “all i meant by it was that we just met and look where we are now.”

‘it’s the same thing’ you think, but that’s all it is — a thought. when your lips part, you only vocalize a string of  moans. satoru was a labyrinth and you were lost in him — or rather the pleasure he provides.

“bet you’re already justifying this in your head.”

⸻ ## I LOVED HIM WHEN I. . .

LEFT HIM !

[ TOJI FUSHIGURO ]

“what —” he lifts the shot glass to his parted lips, “are you thinkin’ about?” before swallowing a mouthful of cheap liquor, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he does so.

it’s a good question; one you don’t know the answer to, but a good question all the same. you’re thinking about everything and anything while simultaneously not thinking at all — a blunt dangling haphazardly between your lips.

“you want to know what i’m thinkin’ about?” so you answer his question with a question like a smart ass instead, leaning in until you’re nose–to–nose with the man you swore you’d never see again. and he doesn’t hesitate, a half–smile playing on his lips as they ghost yours. they’re warm, lighting a fire beneath the surface of your skin in its wake.

“no, i don’t want to know,” he sing–songs in response, catching you somewhat off guard. what blindsided you though was him lowering the waistband of both his grey sweatpants and his boxers. his cock, exposed to the cool air of the alleyway, standing at full mast—a vein running from the base to the tip.

suddenly your mouth feels dry and your knees feel the slightest bit weaker. it’s muscle memory — or its evil cousin that encourages your body to betray you.

you’re sinking to your knees, blunt discarded somewhere on the concrete (for god’s sake, you don’t care). your lips part, cheeks hollowed and throat relaxed. quiet anticipation coursing through your veins as you feel the weight of his cock in your palms.

“you know what to do,” he rumbles from above you, picking at the beds of his nails. and he’s right, you do know what to do; how he likes it.

you take him into your mouth, dragging your tongue along the outline of his piercing some ways below the head of his cock. and toji lets out a satisfied groan. once, twice, and then a third time before you focus on taking his full length into your mouth inch by inch until he’s hit the back of your throat.

from there, you move your mouth along his length, tracing every inch of it with your tongue — imprinting its shape in your mind all over again. it’s more like refreshing an old memory rather than creating a new one.

“knew you’d—” he clenches his jaw, cock throbbing in your mouth as saliva mixed with his pre–cum slips past your lips stretched to capacity around him, “come back t’me.”

 [ HEIAN ERA! SUKUNA ]

“i’m—” your breath hitches, catching in your throat in sync with the rise of your shoulders, “many things my lord, but sorry isn’t one of them,” as your hips stutter.

momentarily. one hundred and twenty seconds.

it takes sukuna less than thirty seconds to capitalize on your fault. two hands wrap around your hips, nails pressed into the tender skin forming crescent-shaped indents. you’re forced to move to his rhythm now; cruel and unforgiving.

“should’ve focused on what’s important little one,” he clicks his tongue in feigned disappointment. he’s far from disappointed though, his cocks — both of them — buried to the hilt throb inside of you. and an onslaught of tears blur your vision; your mind is clouded by a myriad of sensations.

you’re somewhere between excruciating pain and unbelievable feats of pleasure.

“this isn’t—” you try, albeit with great difficulty as your words come in between gasps. but sukuna interjects, the corners of his lips curling upwards: “fair? stupid, this game of ours was never meant to be but you know that already.”

two more hands make contact with your skin after that exchange; two fingers on one hand pinching your nipple whereas the other holds your face in place so that you maintain eye contact with him.

and sukuna rolls his eyes as soon as your gazes meet though it’s a somewhat playful gesture. something most would find difficult to picture. but not you — never you.

“stop pretending to be a damsel in distress i’m not a—” he pauses mid–sentence, smile growing as he thrusts his hips, “well, i’m not that kind of monster,” the sound of his skin colliding with yours echoing throughout the room.

you whimper, staring at him through half–lidded eyes and a curtain of lashes wet with unshed tears: “i like what i like.”

 © k4vehrtz — all rights reserved. do not, under any circumstances, plagiarize / repost / translate my work.

[creamflix]

ryomen sukuna x female reader; 18+ content (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS do not interact, you will be blocked), unestablished relationship, modern au, fwb sukuna, p in v, pussy whipped sukuna <3, kinda pussy drunk sukuna, nonchalant sukuna (what did u expect), just a smut drabble #needthat – masterlist here ☆～（ゝ。∂）

you're laying in bed when your phone lights up, that familiar, heart-skipping thrill hitting you when you see his name. sukuna's text is short, as always, and it’s exactly what you’ve been waiting for.

"you're up"

your stomach flips. without a second thought, you're getting ready, leaving whatever plans or responsibilities you had in the dust. all you care about is getting to him. the door to his place swings open, and there he is, lounging like he couldn’t care less, but you know the second he laid eyes on you, something flickered in him. you never miss that.

"miss me?" you ask, all teasing, knowing how he likes to play it cool.

he just grunts, eyes scanning you up and down, pulling you towards him without a word. that familiar heat rises between your legs as his hands grip your waist, the subtle strength behind them making your pulse quicken. you know you shouldn’t feel this way — he’s got others, maybe even lined up — but the way he touches you makes you forget everything. for now, you’re the only girl in the world.

"i’m your favorite, right?" you whisper, half joking, but there's something vulnerable in your voice, craving an answer.

"yeah," he mumbles, lips grazing your neck as his hand slips under your shirt, tugging it off. "somethin' like that." the noncommittal tone should make you second-guess things, but the way his teeth nip at your skin, the roughness of his grip, it erases any doubts.

before you know it, he’s got you bent over the bed, hands gripping your hips so tight you’ll have bruises by morning, but that’s not what’s on your mind. you’re breathless, barely able to hold yourself up as he thrusts into you hard, deep, like he owns you. each time he hits that spot inside you, your knees buckle, but his hands keep you steady, pulling you back onto his cock with each rough stroke.

"fuck... this pussy..." he groans, voice low and strained, his rhythm faltering just for a second as he feels you clench around him. he’s close, you can tell by the way his breathing hitches, the way his hips snap into you faster. but you? you’re so lost in it, in him, your mind blank except for the feel of him pounding into you, chasing that high.

"you’re... so fucking good..." you gasp, voice trembling as the pressure builds inside you. and god, you mean it, even if deep down you know he’s saying the same shit to someone else when you’re not here. you can't care. not right now.

"shit —" his voice stutters, cock twitching inside you as he loses control for just a moment, the usual cocky edge slipping away. you fucking love it, love how you can make him unravel like this, make him curse under his breath, gripping your hips harder like you’re the only one that can make him feel this way.

"tell me i’m the only one," you breathe, barely able to speak through the pleasure.

"you’re..." he starts, but the way he hesitates says everything. he’s not lying, not exactly, but he’s not telling the full truth either. still, when he’s buried this deep inside you, when his voice is breaking with every thrust, it’s easy to pretend.

he grunts again, pulling you back onto his cock with a rough thrust that makes your head spin. "just... fuckin' take it," he growls, as if to distract from the question entirely, and in this moment, that’s all you need.

#needthat

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[mrs-weasley-reid]

JUST SAY WHEN

Spencer Reid x writer!reader

Synopsis: You always choose Spencer Reid, but is it the right choice? Word Count: 3500+ WARNING: ANGST. not proofread!!! A/N: oh, here we go again... the angst plot in my head. this one feels disorganized. like my writing is all over. i've had this one in my drafts for over a month. but today i have the courage to hit post. honestly have mixed feelings about this. it's a new type of reader I'm dabbling in so i really am anxious about this. tell me what you think!

 “You should’ve seen him when he first saw me.”

THE PURCHASE.

 Vast lavender field soaked in chamomile tea. Dusty sunset through the window pane. Overwhelming aroma of old books. One figure tiptoes to the eighth shelf. Arm stretched to reach an old copy of The Scarlet Letter.

 Whenever Spencer is asked what he felt at that moment, he thinks, “Like I saw an angel freshly descended from heaven.”

 “Shit—” Gasps by the said angel.

 A book and body drop on the carpeted floor.

 Spencer runs to your aid. A failed attempt to prevent the seething pain you momentarily felt. First of many.

 “Are you okay?” He asks, kneeling next to you. Spencer reflexively offers his hand.

 You chuckle, taking his hand, and you feel him tense. “Don’t worry, I’ve had it worse.” You retract your limb to focus the pads of your hands on dusting yourself, squatting down to pick up the book.

 Spencer nods unknowingly despite the confusion and the knots in his eyebrows. He glances at the book, “That’s a great book.”

 Following his gaze, you hoist it up with a grin. “Very,” You emphasize. “I’ve read this, like, ten— thirteen times?” You brag excitedly, sparkling eyes as you meet his big brown sight.

 “Eighty-four.”

 You hum, raising your brows. 

 “I’ve read it eighty-four times.” Spencer shyly smiles, tight lips in a curved line. His hands grip the strap of his leather satchel. Socializing has always been his worst skill, let alone talking to someone as beautiful as you. He can’t help but feel his tongue twist itself into knots he can’t untie.

 You blink—slowly and adorably innocent. “What?” You chirp. It’s not every day you meet someone who’s read a book more times than you. Plus, the boy in front of you is quite the charmer, and you’re distracted by the glow of hazels in his eyes. 

 Spencer nibbles on his lips, and a faint reddish glow creeps all over the land of his skin. “I— uh, I have to go. Bye.” He shuffles as if his body can’t figure out where to direct itself and ends up malfunctioning in the process. In the end, he walks past you, rushing to another aisle.

 It takes you roughly twenty seconds to process that he’s no longer in front of you, twisting your body to his trail. “Eighty-four?!” You exclaim, baffled. 

 Your feet chase after him. “Wait!” You try to match his pace, almost jogging to catch up. “How is that even possible?” You get past him, completely blocking his way. “You just love this book so much that you read it on a loop, or what?” 

 “It really isn’t that big of a deal…” He mumbles, eyes glitching from one title to another, to towers of spines except you. A book with such a beautiful cover, his hands itch to reach and flip every page into memory.

 You place your hands on your hips, furrowing your brows. “Tell me how you read it eighty-four times. I won’t leave you alone until you do. And I swear I’m the most annoying person you’ll ever meet, so it might be in your best interest to get rid of me quickly before you go insane.” You shrug like it’s a normal thing to say to a stranger.

 Curiosity brims from your eyes, like a big doe's eyes begging a prey to bite her limb for the sake of adventure. And like a pirate tempted by a siren, Spencer takes the bait.

 “My mom loves the book, so I read it to her all the time.” He admits, a hand behind his neck. It’s the start of a long explanation. You don’t dare stop him. Your eyes are fully fixed on his moving lips. He can feel it. And he fights not to meet yours because he just might explode.

 Right then and there, you know the small contact from his hand completely stole your heart. And his words hold you into a willing prisoner because you saw him first from afar. Because you specifically chose the book in your hand despite having two copies of it to avoid first contact. Because you didn’t want him to know how long you’ve been staring. 

 Spencer gets abruptly cut off by a patron bumping into him. You fight every willpower in your chest to keep yourself from making a scene in a mall’s bookstore, shifting your attention to him.

 “Want to talk more about it over coffee?” 

 “I was mesmerized. The beauty of his mind was so intricate I couldn’t stop myself from falling even if I tried. I wanted him to own me. And it happened just as I wanted. I just didn’t know it’d be torture… Reaching his hand out was his fatal mistake. Taking his hand was my demise.”

THE FIRST CHIP.

 Disheveled. Broken. Sharp.

 Big brown eyes dull in the dead of the night. Spencer stands before you with indifference.

 He’s changed.

 But the grip on the neck of his satchel tells you your Spencer is still there behind the walls he put up. The first of many false hopes you convince yourself to believe.

 Five months. You’ve been dating Spencer Reid for only five months. And you’re in love with every fiber of his being. Only five months, and you know you’d love him for the longest run. 

 When people ask why you love him, you say, “Because I know he’ll never hurt me.”

 Then it happens.

 Tobias Hankel. 

 You loathe the name the moment you hear it. Accidentally burn yourself in the middle of making dinner when you receive a call from Penelope Garcia that Spencer’s been kidnapped by a serial killer. 

 In the moment, you panic. Almost causing a huge fire in your apartment building as you babble over the phone, asking Penelope where the hell your boyfriend is being held as if the word kidnapped meant a mark on a map.

 Then, you worry. You beg Penelope to let you in on the progress of his search. You pace in your living room. You read every true crime book on your shelf. You pray on each page that an answer will dawn on you and that you’ll have something of use to locate Spencer, as if you knew everything when, in reality, all you knew was that he’s held captive by some sick villain in your story. 

 You felt like every sidekick in a hero’s movie. Useless.

 When Penelope tells you that he’s on his way home, you’re never too tired or sleep-deprived to drive to his place. You waited hours outside his doorstep. You ignore the shivery breeze all over your skin, as you’d forgotten to change into something more weather-appropriate. You don’t worry about the unattended kitchen, the food you are excited to make. 

 You only think about one thing: be the first person Spencer sees when he comes home. 

 He arrives in the sixth hour, close to dawn. There's a gauze on his temple. His eyes are glued to the wooden floor.

 It’s a strength not to cry out from the sight. Worry courses throughout your body. But the relief that he’s made it home safe cancels the anxiety out of your head. All you want is to cradle him, wrap him in your arms to remind him of home, of safety, of being loved.

 You take Spencer into a tight hug. “I was so worried.” You whisper in his chest, breathing in his wake. He’s safe. Everything should be okay. “I’m glad you’re safe. I care about you so much.”

 Only for him to say, “You should go home. It’s late.”

 “I’m not gonna leave you by yourself.” You shake your head, pulling away to stare at his empty face. Your palm cups his cheek, and it’s cold. He doesn’t lean against it. He simply winces like your touch is dangerous.

 “I’m too tired to entertain a guest.”

 You.

 A guest.

 There’s a small sting inside your chest that you ignore don’t notice. Your heart feels similar to a teacup with a chip on its rims. Delicately painful to the touch. 

 You swallow the thick air in the middle of your throat, nodding as you bite the tears from the back of your eyes. “Alright, my love…” You softly enunciate, not wanting to sob at the sight of Spencer avoiding your image.

 The spark in him that you love so much is nowhere to be found. Only hatred and something you can’t figure out swim behind his irises. He doesn’t even reach for your hand. Doesn’t hum in delight like he always does when your skin caresses him.

 A prominent chip marks your being. As if you had been dropped from two floors down. 

 You shove the thought away. 

 You tell yourself that Spencer needs his space. Tell yourself that he needs time to process, to heal. You tell yourself it’s okay because Spencer’s had a long week. You tell yourself it’s not about you.

 You leave a kiss on his cheek, “Rest well. Call me if you need anything.” You walk down the stairs with a weight you don’t discern. 

 Spencer doesn’t say he will.

 And he didn’t.

 “It takes a while before I realize the chip he caused. And even then, I said, what is love if I never get hurt? What is love if there’s no struggle? Besides, there are moments when the chip didn’t hurt. Minimum effort filled the aching void. Simplest gestures blinded me. Sweetest words impaired my hearing. I wasn’t hypnotized or caught in a spell. It’s plain and simple. He had a hold on me. I chose not to break free.”

THE VOICES IN HIS HEAD.

 “Oh, here we go again.”

 You feel yourself physically shrink.

 Spencer rolls his eyes, pushing one hand into the depths of his right eye socket. Heavy sighs drool off his lips. The pounding in his head makes his vision blurry. And you’re convinced some type of voice tells him you’re no one important in his life. 

 You had asked him if he’d like to take a break from his files. After he’d said no, you carefully made a point that he hadn’t eaten anything the whole day. Then, you’re back to the now, where Spencer snaps at the mere mention of taking his fingers off the thin edges of the case. 

 A year into loving him. A year into being his solace—his words that now seem to be a lie—and you feel your entire body tense with every twitch and narrow of his eyes. 

 “Can’t you just leave me alone?” 

 Your chest tightens. A tug hitches your breath. A strong pressure sits over your lungs, deflating every air out without any chance of inflating back. 

 Since that night, Spencer changed. And you don't blame him. Completely understanding the stake of his trauma. Motivated to make his days better, to make him feel better. 

 The first month since that evening, Spencer didn’t text or call. He didn’t answer yours either. He isolated himself, and you’d heard from JJ that they even had a hard time talking to him. 

 So, you thought you weren't alone. That you weren't the problem. Because if everybody else can't reach him, then Spencer must want his solitude.

 You climb on your shelf. You patiently wait for him to want you again. You let it happen. Let him consume you despite the ache that gnaws in the back of your mind.

 And when he comes knocking on your door. You swing it so fast, eager to have him back in your arms. You lock the tingly feeling inside a vault. Because Spencer said he loves you that day.

 “I’m trying to do my job. It’s a difficult job, unlike yours, where you just scribble on paper or tap on your annoying keyboard and be done for the day.” 

 It cracks. Every fiber of your being cracks. The colorful memories are stricken with connected lines, slowly turning into a depressing gray. 

 You crack internally. A glass hit with force enough to break but not enough to shatter apart. Your skin holds up every broken part like a puzzle piece. 

 He’s just mad. He doesn’t mean it. You chant inside your head. You don’t know who you’re lying to.

 Spencer said he loves your writing. Love every word lined by your weaving hand. Love the stories formed from mundane moments and late nights. Love the emotions that brim within spaces and punctuation marks. 

 And you wonder if you should've kept not believing it. If you should've stayed appreciative but never convinced.

 “There are people’s lives at stake. I’m saving people’s lives, not filling their free time by reading your made-up stories.” 

 A target made to be maimed. Spencer aims at the center with precision. And you’re stricken with every shot.

 Your feet step back on their own. A subconscious pull for safety. Heart beats in fear, in ache. 

 “I’m sorry.”

 It dies in your throat. Your body shakes in so much pain you don't mind the way your heart and lungs shrink. Afraid that tears may fall, willing them to stay in place—in the back of your eyes where Spencer won't find them. 

 His migraines worsen. You tell yourself. 

 He’s still in pain. You remind yourself.

 His job is more important. You convince yourself. 

 Excuses after excuses. You make it a habit. Make excuses for him to distract the piercing agony.

 “W-why don’t I give you some space? Refill your cup?” You offer a smile like it’s a job you must carry successfully.

 Spencer gulps, hands in his pockets. “That would be great. Thanks.” He replies, getting back on his seat as if he hadn’t just cut through you like a sharp ax splitting a small trunk in half.

 You flinch when he shuts the door as soon as you step out of the room. Each piece vibrates in place, waiting for the last hit.

 “Litany of reasons come after that. I woke up each day with yet another excuse. A shameful attempt to sell what was rotten. Until I took a bite of it myself, and I tasted the sickening truth.”

THE DESTROYED SAND CASTLE.

 It's deafening. 

 The sound of you shattering into a thousand pieces. Sharp edges cut through every fabric of what you thought was true, what you thought was real. 

 “I love her.”

 But you're not her.

 You’re not the great Dr. Maeve Donovan. The woman who kept his migraines at bay, if not anything, cured them. The smart, beautiful, successful woman who rang every local pay phone in his vicinity. The woman that occupied his waking days. Days he went through next to you.

 Dr. Maeve Donovan. Spencer’s great love.

 And he’s never seen her in person until her last breath. But her voice is enough to steal him away from you. Enough for the color in Spencer’s skin to light back up after years of your failed attempts. Enough for Spencer to fall in love with her. Enough to stay in love with her despite her being gone in the wind. Despite you sleeping next to him every single night.

 She was enough. The idea of her is enough.

 “I love her.”

 Love. Present tense. Spencer loves her. 

 You don’t remember the last time he’d ever said those words to you. Don’t remember the genuine emotions that radiate along those words. Don’t remember the last time you’ve ever felt loved by him.

 “Hey…” 

 You walk past Penelope. You don't realize it until she catches your arm, distracted by the fatal explosion inside your chest. You can see the way your world crumbles like a sand castle kicked by the meanest bully.

 “Sweetie, what’s wrong? Did you not find Reid? Is he not in Hotch’s office?” Her eyes soften at the sight of your tears flowing like a steady river. “He’s safe, I promise. Just a little graze, you’ll see.” She tries to console you, rubbing the side of your arm.

 Just a little graze.

 Spencer has been carving little grazes on you for years, and the final blow causes your entire life to shatter in fine dust—close to nonexistence. 

 “Do you mind telling Spencer that there was an emergency, so I had to go?” Your voice breaks with each syllable, fighting the sobs from spilling out. It’s numbingly painful. Every part of you is sore and aching. 

 Penelope furrows her brows, “Sure, but is everything okay? What emergency?” She pries, no bad intentions, simply a sign of her kindness.

 You take a rough gulp. “I…” You look into her eyes, begging for her not to ask further. 

 She nods, giving you a soft squeeze on your arm and a warm smile. That's when you knew that she knew exactly the source of your nonstop tears. Maybe no longer than you did because you can see the anger in her eyes. At least she's on your side. And it's enough for you. “Call me if you need anything, love,” Penelope says, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “I’m always here for you. I’m always ready to be on your side.” She adds against your neck.

 And you're heading towards the elevator without a second thought.

 You hear your name as the doors close, lifting your head to find Spencer coming out of the bullpen. Penelope is true to her words, blocking him from reaching where you stand. His voice makes your insides churn. The sound of your name rolling off his tongue is sickening.

 Your body collapses on the floor. The sobs finally echo within the tight space. The tears endlessly flow in raging torrents between floors. You wrap your arms around your torso, holding yourself together.

 But it's way too late.

 Every piece of you has already shattered into messy pieces. Spread out in broken parts, unfit even if you tried to glue yourself back together. 

 Spencer has destroyed the castle you've built. The castle you made just for him. 

 You wonder if it's all for show. If Spencer chose to keep you just to avoid his boredom when Maeve’s unreachable. If he only tolerated you to fill her physical absence.

 But you should’ve known that it was a matter of time. His kisses were merely ghosts. His touch was stinging cold. His words were hallow. 

 The signs were clear in plain sight.

 Spencer stopped loving you a long time ago.

 "It's my fault." You say out loud, as if thinking it isn't painful enough.

 You made a choice. Each day, you choose to make up new reasons why Spencer is distant. You convince yourself that you aren't hurt by his cold glances. You tell yourself that it’s not torture if you love him.

 The elevator dings to the last floor.

 “Remnants of myself dried up inside that box.”

 Tongue runs over the softness of your lips as the final lines of your book approach with the same heart-wrenching ache. For the audience, at least.

 You flip the page, lifting your gaze. You scan the mass of teary eyes and silent sobs.

 There, you find two familiar faces. Penelope sniffs next to Rossi, who’s smiling proudly. The sweet blonde became your secret ray of sunshine. And the Italian mentored your way to a New York Times bestseller.

 "In that tight space. In the center of those four moving walls. I wished so much that he'd only said when. When everything felt too much. When I was unwanted. When he stopped loving me. I would've understood. Because I always did."

 What you don’t expect is the third familiar figure. It stands in the farthest back. A shadow if you don’t know any better. You take a deep breath.

 The next words are etched in your brain. The first words you’ve ever written in the making of the book under your palm. The words that still ring in your ears.

 “I must say, it’s not that I never learned. I learned so much that within the cracks of my broken self, I filled them with empty promises. Promises I never kept. Promises I broke because I believed I’d be fixed in a couple of days. I believed that the space between pieces of me would mend if I made the choice to stay.”

 His hair is unkempt. His eyes are as brown as the healthiest earth. His build is leaner. His face is worn out by horrors you don't dare imagine.

 Flashes of his pleas, his tears, his knocks on your door. You remember them like they were just yesterday. The pain that left a prominent indentation on your heart.

 Tattoos of pain adorn his face. Has he been there the entire time? Do you really care if he was?

 You lock eyes with Spencer, pausing for a moment. You let the past seep in. You unlock the vault of your broken pieces. Let them sing in agony. Let him hear the melody of your suffering.

 And then it stops. They vanish through the air of peace. The relief of moving on.

 You smile at him. The one that started everything.

 “It’s important to know that I always had a choice. And with that is the acceptance that each time I chose wrong.”

reid masterlist | masterlist

[hayatoseyepatch]

Description: Smitten. We don’t always get to choose who our hearts call for. Just a collection of some of the wb characters who have a crush on their friend’s partner.  Charcters: Akihiko Nirei, Yamato Endo, & Haruka Sakura (feat. Chika Takiishi & Hayato Suo) Word Count:1.7k

Contains: Fem!Reader x Multiple Charcters. Smut and a bit of angst if you squint.

Content Warnings: voyeurism, threesome, panty stealing, degradation, praise, masturbating, p in v, hair pulling, slight dubcon, exhibitionism, dacryphilia, sharing.

Author's Note: WE’RE SO BACK!! Sorry I’ve been like mia, I had such an intense bout of writer's block, I thought it was going to be the end of me, truly. Thank you for being so patient with me. As always I hope you enjoy!

Nirei knew it was wrong, he knew it was. But that didn’t stop him from letting your name slip past his lips, the sound of it muffled by the fabric he had pressed to his nose. His eyes closed tight as he desperately fucked his fist, hips rutting up off the mattress wishing desperately that it was your soft velvety walls wrapped around his cock instead. From the moment the blonde had first laid his eyes on you he was smitten. His heart hammered in his chest from the moment, all those years ago, when you had first strolled into that classroom at Bofurin. The sound of your laugh is soft as a melody, your voice as sweet as honey. He was entranced by you.

He had gotten a new notebook after you first met. Fully intending to fill its pages with every single detail about you. He wanted to know it all, wanted to fill the notebook with the story of your lives. However, as time passed, it was impossible for him (or anyone else for that matter) not to notice the longing gazes you sent toward Sakura. The way your smiles were always the softest, the most genuine when being directed towards him. The way your flushed cheeks matched his own whenever near the other. The way you both looked at each other when you both thought no one else was watching. So it was with a heavy heart that he agreed when Sakura had come to him, asking him for his assistance in winning you over. He did promise he’d help him make it to the top, after all. Nirei wanted nothing more than to keep that smile on your face, even if it wasn’t directed at him.

That was years ago, but his yearning for you never stopped, so here he was a pair of your stolen panties gripped tightly in his fist as he inhaled your scent. The closest he would ever be to having the taste of your sweet pussy would be his tongue slipping from his mouth as he licked a fat stripe up the center of the soiled garment. His thumb brushes the sensitive underside of his cock’s tip, collecting the precum that had dribbled over, using it as makeshift lube. He imagined the way you would sound, having committed to memory the way your voice sounded saying his name. Enough that he could almost picture what you would sound like beneath him. How beautiful you would look, hair tousled as he rammed his hips desperately, aiming to hit the deepest parts inside you.

“Fuck.. Fuck..” He whimpered the familiar coil building in his stomach. Pushing the fabric past his lips was what sent him over the edge, crying out your name around the material as he paints his hand and stomach with his own cum. Lying there, catching his breath, knowing that the next day he’ll overhear you talking to Kotoha and Tsubaki about having another pair going missing. Never knowing full well it was him who had snuck them into his pocket on his last sleepover at you and Sakura’s shared apartment.

“Stay still.” The words are accentuated with a harsh slap to your inner thigh, cutting off the attempts to give yourself some modesty from the piercing blue eyes locked on your form in the corner of the room. You were spread wide on Chika’s lap, him buried in your depths, the head of his cock kissing your cervix in a way that made tears well up in your eyes. That coupled with the humiliation of being entirely bare spread open for his friend’s hungry gaze. “You're already crying?” Chika tsks, his monotone voice sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ve barely even touched you yet, all you did was take me inside.” He lures you into almost a false sense of comfort as he tucks your hair behind your ear. But you knew better. Nothing about Chika was comforting, especially not when he was punishing you and Endo. Especially not when his lips pressed to your ear, words dripping venom as he spoke. “Such a fragile thing you are. I wouldn’t want to break my favorite toy and have to find a new one.”

He knew exactly what he was doing, the thought of him replacing you sends a shock of fear coursing through your system. Now with a new sense of determination, you begin to move. Planting your hands on his thighs as leverage to start bouncing on his cock, a crude squelching noise filling the room from your wetness. You throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder as you move. You could barely hear rustling in the corner, far too lost in the feeling of Chika stretching you so deliciously. Endo watched the scene unfolding before him, cock painfully hard, trapped within the confines of his tight jeans. Unable to do anything due to the restraints that locked his wrists to the chair he was sat on in the corner of the room. 

He was salivating, the way your body moved on top if his best friend, watching the way your cunt swallowed him whole, the bounce of your tits as you rode him with reckless abandon had him thrashing in his confines. He was desperate to feel you, fuck, he’d even accept being able to jerk his cock as he watched the two of you. Chika had been less than satisfied to hear of Endo’s infatuation with you, seeing the way he looked at you. Eyes devouring your frame, lidded and full of lust. Knowing his head was filled with endless fantasies of what he would do to you if given the opportunity. He needed to teach him his place once more it seemed. So he had invited him over, an offer the other man jumped at immediately. Only to find himself in his current predicament. Arms and legs restrained as he was forced to watch the two of you fuck. 

Chika gripped a fistful of your hair, forcing your head up off his shoulder. Making you lock eyes with Endo once more. His grip is hard words whispered harshly in your ear. “Don't take your eyes off him, I want him to see the look in your eyes when I paint your cervix with my cum.” Locking eyes with Endo through the locks of your hair. “And if he manages to behave himself I might just let him clean up your filthy cunt once I’ve had my fill.”

Your cries come out muffled by the palm of your hand, eyes blurry from unshed tears, trying desperately to keep your voice down so as not to get caught. “Aww, what’s the matter baby?” Suo coos, never once stalling in the slam of his hips. Looking more amused than even remotely affected by the feeling of your walls spasming on his cock. His hips never falter sending you backward with every thrust, hands gripping to the edges of the desk he was fucking you on in the empty room. Muffled sounds of the party you had both thrown filled your ears, a reminder that you both were not alone.

“Trying so hard to muffle those sounds, you’re so cute, baby. Don’t want anyone to hear how good I'm making you feel, hm?” He grins, pressing the pad of his thumb into your clit, rubbing tight circles that have your eyes crossing. He looks down at your fucked out expression, your pathetic attempt at silencing the sounds spilling from your lips failing miserably. He looks to the side, a mischievous grin overtaking his face. He grips your wrist, pulling it away from your mouth and pinning it beside your head. Before you could protest, his lips captured yours in a heated kiss. His tongue overtakes your mouth with ease, the movements of his hips slowing just a bit. A narrowed eye locked with the gap in the door, never ceasing the searing kiss even for a moment. When he finally pulls from you, the string of saliva connecting your lips snaps when he moves to press his lips to your ear. “But I think it's much too late for that, kitten.”

You and Sakura both freeze at the same time, bodies going rigid in shock. Suo halts every movement of his hips, cooing softly when you whine at the pleasure halting all at once. Turning to the door once more. “You know, Sakura, it's awfully rude to lurk in doorways.” He grins, relishing in the cry you let out when he lets out a harsh snap of his hips. “So are you going to stand there all day or are you going to come in and join us?”

Sakura had always thought you were beautiful. His eyes found themselves transfixed on your plump lips whenever you spoke to him, imagining how soft they would feel against his own. More times than he cared to admit had he thought of how you would look beneath him, plush thighs gripped by his calloused fingertips as his cock reaches the deepest parts of you. Those same lips crying out his name as he fucked you. So Suo was fully aware he would not pass up the opportunity to bring those fantasies to life. He was frustratingly perceptive, Sakura was sure he had noticed the longing looks he had sent your way. The longing looks, the lingering touches. He was sure he saw it all. 

It wasn't long before you were experiencing it for yourself. Sakura’s thick cock felt like it would split you open, the stretch having your back arching off the hard wooden surface of the desk. Suo’s teasing tone meets your ears. “Well, aren't you being well-behaved, such a good girl for Sakura aren't you kitten?” This spurs Sakura on, head bowing to take a perked nipple into his mouth, biting harshly, soothing it with a fat stripe of his tongue. Grinning against your skin, pushing himself upright, opening his mouth letting a glob of saliva roll off his tongue. Watching as it drips onto Suo’s cock, adding additional lubricant to ease the descent of his cock into the depths of your throat. A harsh slap to your ass echoes through the room, sure to leave a mark in its wake.

“So fucking good.’ His words come out in a growl, losing himself in the pleasure of your velvety walls. “Feels too fucking good baby girl. You keep clamping down on my cock.” he groans. “Keep sucking me in, I could fuck you for days princess. Could never get over how good this pussy feels wrapped around my cock.” As Sakura’s eyes meet yours, looking at your fucked out expression beneath him, all he could think of was how beautiful you were.  

Dividers by saradika-graphics. Writing & character banners by me. Special thanks to @eevees-hobbies for your suggestions/contributions. And just for putting up with me while this fic almost swallowed me whole.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

a 141 x reader where they realize they did hurt you after 'that thing'?

Ahhh yes I can do this! Thanks for the request!!

I'm getting over a bit of writers block. I hope these are okay!!!

141 + König × Reader Where They Hurt You During Sex

Warnings: mentions of sex, pain, mentions of discomfort, crying and swearing. -ends in fluff

Simon Ghost Riley-

Simon had a tough week. He had so much bent up aggression and stress that he was desperate to release. He found you in the shower, and felt his cock hardening in his pants. He was quick to discard his clothes and join you, and not long after, he was taking you from behind as the warm water beat down on his back.

Simon was pounding into you, setting a brutal pace you weren't used to with him. He was never particularly gentle during sex, but he was never aggressive toward you.

Tears sprung in the corners of your eyes, as each time his cock slammed back into you, it sent waves of pain throughout your body. You let out a small wail, and Simon had mistaken it for a sound of pleasure. "That's it, baby."

His grip on your hips tightened, and you let out a scream as the pain began to be unbearable. You choked out a small sob. "Simon! Stop!"

Simon immediately paused his movements, his cock ripping out of you. "Baby? Are you okay?"

You let out a small sob as the pain slightly lessened, but your insides still ached deeply, and the bruises on your hips began to form angrily. You didn't say a word as you just shook your head.

Simon's heart shattered as he quickly turned off the water and ran out of the shower to get a towel.

He came back quickly and wrapped it around you, helping you out of the shower. He pulled you close to him. His grip was tight around you. "I'm so sorry."

You leaned into his chest as you regained your breath and listened to his rapidly beating heart. "It's okay, Si."

"No, it's not okay. I shouldn't have gone that hard. I took my stress out on you, and I'm sorry." He rubbed soothing circles into your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your wet hair.

You pulled away and looked up at him with a small smile. "Simon. It's alright, I promise."

Simon picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bed, setting you down gently. You gave a playful protest, pushing at his shoulders. "I'm all wet, I'll get the sheets soaked!"

"I'll throw some fresh ones on later. Just let me hold you for a while." He murmured as he moved to lay behind you, pulling you into him. "I promise I won't ever hurt you again."

Johnny MacTavish-

Johnny had wanted to try a new sex position tonight, one he'd stumbled upon in his "research" when he was on missions.

He was on top of you and placed both of your legs on his shoulders as he began to thrust into you. The new position allowed him to go deeper than he'd ever been before, causing quite a bit of discomfort for you. Your legs began to burn from the stretch, and his cock was at angles that had your insides screaming. You let out a strangled cry, pushing on Johnny's chest slightly, and he stopped what he was doing immediately. "Babe?"

He pulled out of you and laid next to you, pulling you into him. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry."

You sniffled slightly as the pain began to fade, and shoved your head into Johnny's chest. "It's okay."

He enclosed his arms around you and peppered your forehead with kisses. "I'm so sorry, I should've noticed you were in pain."

"I didn't say anything. It's not your fault." You said as you began to thread your fingers through the hair on his chest.

He nodded slowly before pressing a kiss to your lips. "Let me order us takeout, I won't have you cooking for us tonight."

"Johnny, it's really okay. You don't need to, buy." You started before Johnny pressed another kiss to your lips.

"Babe, it's the least I can do. We can gorge ourselves on crappy food while watching that horrible rom com you love so much." He gave a cheeky smile before sliding off the bed to grab his phone.

"I don't know what I've done to deserve you Johnny. I love you."

"I love you too, babe. More than you know. Now, be a good pet, and let me make it up to you." He chuckled before dialing your nearest pizza shop.

John Price-

John had you bent over your ass firmly in the air as he forced himself into you from behind. He was eager tonight. It had been a while since the two of you were together, and he hadn't prepped you as well as he should've.

His cock was stretching you uncomfortably, and each time he trusted into you, there was a horrible stinging from your hole.

"J-John." You squeaked, your voice coming out hoarse.

John took it as a sign to keep going, and you let out a loud screech as he picked up his pace. Unable to get any words out, your hand flailed wildly behind you, and John immediately stopped. "Love?"

You let out a sob as he pulled himself out of you, the relief being immediate for you. Your breathing slowed as you regained your senses.

John was quiet, his eyes watching your every move. He felt horrible, his own needs had overshadowed yours, and now you were hurt because of it.

You laid down on the bed and brought your knees to your chest. "C'mere, John."

He shook himself of his self-loathing thoughts and pulled you into his arms, settling himself behind you. "I'm so sorry, baby. I was blinded by my own needs. I didn't think to check on you. Let me make it up to you."

"It's alright, hun." You said softly, hugging onto your husband's arms. "Just hold me and I'll be alright."

John stayed with you like that for hours, rubbing at your flesh softly and peppering kisses to your shoulder. He constantly whispered his apologies, and soft "I love you's" until you both fell asleep cuddled together.

The next morning, you awoke to the smell of eggs and bacon, John making it very clear he wanted to do what he could to make it up to you.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

Kyle barely made it through the door before he'd jumped your bones. He'd been away for a week for some training and was beyond desperate for you.

He'd ripped off your clothing and hoisted you up so you could wrap your legs around his midsection. His kiss was bruising, and needy, a clash of teeth and tongue as he singlehandedly pulled down his pants, freeing his cock.

He'd shoved into you with fervor, pounding up into you, effectively fucking you up into the wall. You cried out as your legs tightened around his waist, egging him on.

He walked toward the couch and laid the two of you down rather harshly, and the back of your head smacked off the wooden arm of the couch. Your hand flew to your head and loud out a small squeal. "Ow!"

"Fuck! Kid, I'm so sorry." Kyle pulled away and crouched down to you to inspect your head. His heart sank as he felt a small bump forming already. "I was going too fast, I should've slowed down."

You looked at him for a moment before erupting in a fit of laughter. Kyle sat confused, watching as your body wracked from your giggles. "Y/N?"

"It's fine! It's fine." You managed to get out through your giggles. "Phew, never had that one happen before."

As you clearly didn't seem to be bothered, Kyle allowed himself to chuckle as well. "Are you sure you're okay? I can go get an ice pack."

"I'm fine, promise. I'd be better if you finished what you started." You threw him an overly dramatic wink and beckoned him closer to you.

And who was Kyle to say no? Not that he didn't insist on icing your head later. (He forced you to sit still for nearly 20 minutes as he iced your head, and pressed a half dozen kisses to your lips as an apology)

König-

You woke up with a wince as you rolled over in bed, your sides aching. You sat up in bed, waking König up next to you. "Go back to sleep, baby. Just going to take a shower."

You peeled your shirt off your body, revealing a slew of bruises lining your hips in the shapes of fingerprints. You hissed slightly as the movement caused your bruises to ache.

This was not missed by König, however, who was watching on from the bed in horror. Was he truly that rough with you?

"M-maus." His voice came out shaky as you turned to him. "I hurt you."

Your heart broke at the sight of him. It was clear he was on the verge of tears, as his bottom lip was quivering slightly. "It's okay, Kö. It looks worse than it is."

"Please, don't lie to me." He begged, approaching you slowly. "I hurt you."

You stayed silent, unsure of what to say. It truly did look worse than it was, and you wouldn't lie, and say that König wasn't rougher than usual last night.

He got to his knees in front of you and inspected the bruises lining your abdomen. He placed gentle kisses on each bruise before his eyes landed on yours. "Please forgive me, I didn't know I was hurting you."

"König, love, it's truly okay. I'm okay." You gave him a warm smile, but he shook his head. He walked past you and made his way to the bathroom. You could hear the rub running before you heard him call your name.

You walked into the bathroom to find him drawing you a bubble bath. He turned to you with a sad smile. "Water should be warm, climb on in."

He helped you into the water, before crouching down beside you as he watched you settle in the water.

"König, come in. It's alright, I'm not mad at you at all." You gestured to the tub with a warm smile. You knew he was beating himself up.

"I'm mad at myself, Maus." He looked down at his hands in shame. "I promised never to hurt you."

"König, get in here right now before I make you." You chuckled, trying to ease the mood. "Need my giant boyfriend to be a headrest for me."

He blinked a few times before looking up at you, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Of course."

He was quick to discard his clothes and climbed into the tub behind you, pulling your frame into him gently. "Ich liebe dich so sehr, Engel." (I love you do much, angel)

König spent the rest of the day attached to your hip. He'd insisted on making you a cup of coffee and toast and even went as far as pulling out your chair for you to sit down. He made certain he'd make it up to you, one way or another.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Ahh not one of my better ones, but I hope you enjoy!🫣🩷

[samwinchesterswifu]

You Shook Me All Night Long (Dean Winchester x Reader) Smut

Bunker seasons era

Song Inspo: "You Shook Me All Night Long" by ACDC

Warnings: literally the whole thing is just smut lmfao

MINORS DNI

A/N: ive been having TERRIBLE writers block. I dunno how happy i am with this one, so PLEASE let me know if this good smutty shit yall, thnxs for your endless support <3

Word Count: 1103

Summary: He surprises her with coming home early...but that's not the only thing he surprises her with.

The boys were away on a week long hunt. Since injuring her knee a few months ago during a Ghoul hunt, she’s decided to take a break from hunting to allow her body full time to heal. This allowed her a lot of time to make the Bunker a proper home for them. She would spend her weekends keep housing if the boys were still gone, then during the week she would spend time in the library cataloging or helping with research. Then, whenever Dean came home, she was hands on with focus. Her and Dean had been a thing for a little while. The stress of the job eventually breaking down the tough looking hunter asking her to be his life partner. She had happily agreed. There was no real label on their relationship, just two people who understood each other more than any other human.

It was a Sunday morning. Dean had called her the night before, informing her that they would probably be home Sunday night, or possibly into Monday. She was excited to see Dean. Since taking her leave, Dean coming home from these longer hunts added an extra excitement to their relationship. But knowing he won’t be home until as late as tomorrow, she treated it like any other Sunday.

Dressed in little shorts, a cute tank top that showed off her features she began her cleaning routine. Starting in the war room, making her way through the kitchen and then finally to the library. Music blasted throughout the speaker system of the bunker. Charlie had helped set her up with a Bluetooth connection to the old raggedy speakers one weekend while the boys were gone and they had a girls date. It was her little incentive to stay motivated.

One of her favorite 80’s song began on a new rotation of shuffle and she began swagging her hips to the beat of the song while spraying cleaner on the library tables, bending over to get all the way across. She was so distracted by the beat that she didn’t even hear the bunker door open. Dean had arrived home early as a surprise. Dancing around the tables, doing small spins or dance moves, Dean just admired her from a distance. He never got to see her like this. He dropped his bag down and with a thud she turned around to see him. Completely flustered that she was caught. The two of them just starred, Dean was practically undressing her with his eye making her squirm under his gaze.

Neither of them said anything as Dean strode towards her. Grabbing onto her hips, and pulling her tight to his chest. Breathing in the cheap cologne Dean always loved to wear, practically getting drunk off his sent alone. A grin creeps on Dean’s face and he sways the two to the beat. Eyes were locked on one another as he gave her a little spin before bringing her back into sway. A deep blush forms across her cheeks. She hardly ever saw Dean this way, usually this was after a good hunt and no one got hurt. Towards the end of the song, Dean crashes his lips to hers. This was a new hunger she hasn’t experienced. Sure, they’ve had make-up sex, ‘I thought I lost you back there’ sex, and so forth. But this was different, it was ravenous. Dean’s kisses grew heavier, teeth clashing as he drove his hands all over her curves.

At this point, her hips were pinned against one of the library tables. Dean broke away from her lips, kissing along her cheek and down towards the nape of her neck. Nibbling away at different spots along her collar bone. Small mewls and moans of pleasure leave her lips, earning a tighter grip of his hands on her. Dean leans down for a brief moment, hoisting her up by her legs to sit her on the table. He gently pushes her shoulders back on the hardwood, and continues to trail kisses down her clothed body. As he gets closer to her stomach, Dean shifts to be on his knees. Which was surprising. He places tiny kisses across her hips as he uses his hands to push open her legs. Dean yanks off her shorts underwear in a swift movement. Both pieces coming off together. This man was starving for her.

“Fuck,” Dean whispers looking at her pussy. His eyes drift back up to hers as he licked his lips.

In a split second, Dean was diving in. Lapping away at her folds like it was the most delectable fruit Dean has ever tasted in his time on earth. An orgasm was ripping through her body with moments. She tugs on his hair as he continues to coach her through the orgasm. But Dean wasn’t done, he was still at it. Moans echoed through the library and she felt so unholy. This is where men of generations came to learn about the monsters of her world, and yet her she was, bare ass on the same table as her man ate her out alive.

Another orgasm was on the horizon, and like the quick man that Dean Winchester is, two of his broad fingers are inserted into her folds. A shocked and rattled moan escapes her at the shock of surprise and pleasure. His fingers are going in and out like a jack rabbit. Dean occasionally curling them to reach her g-spot.

“Come on baby,” Dean whispers from his spot. This man was fucking edging her on.

Another finger inserted.

“If you want my cock, I’ll need another one from you,” his voice was demanding. And she was prepared to meet those demands.

His attack on her just sped up more, and more. While simultaneously sucking on her clit. But finally, she was close.

“Fuck, Dean,” she gasps. Tugging again at his strands.

“Don’t..stop,” breathing was labored and felt like she was about to see stars. She was there…she was right there…

Then there was nothing. The area Dean was just in was cold. Looking up in utter confusion, she sees her man pulled away. His chin shining with her cum and a shit eating grin plaster on his damn face.

She stutters.

“Y-you, you cant do that, please Dean.” The unpleasant feeling of an orgasm left unfinished pulsated through her.

“I’m gunna need you to last all day sweetheart, I’m not done with you yet,” He says as he gets up from his position.

Giving her a wink, he simply walks away leaving her baffled.

What the hell am I getting myself into.

[loud-sturniolos]

Party

possessive!Matt x reader

Summary:

While at a party some drunk guy doesn’t seem to get the hint that you’re taken.

Warnings:

Drinking, possessive and jealous Matt, shy/awkward reader, pet names used by stranger(Pretty girl, baby girl) and Matt (babydoll, sweetheart, princess.), suggestive, protective Nick, not proof read!!! Kinda shit!!

Reader , Matt , stranger , Nick

A/N: Writers block is KILLING me rn. 😭

The bright, flashing lights, along with music blasting, filled the club. You had just walked away from Matt, Chris and Nick to get yourself a refill of your drink.

As you stood next to the bar and waited for the bartender to return with your drink, you felt someone brush up behind you. Turning around, you saw a man you’d never seen before; he was about 5’5”, had dirty blonde hair, green eyes, pale skin, and looked tipsy. He stared down with a cocky smirk, “Hey, pretty girl, what’s your name?” His voice was slurred, very drunk. “Uh.. my name’s Y/N.” You replied awkwardly, all you wanted was your drink then to return back to your boyfriend and his brothers. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He teased, making you internally cringe. He reached his hand forward to try touch your arm, but you quickly stepped to the side, now slightly away from the bar. An annoyed look spread across the mans face. “Why are you stepping back?” He demanded, stepping up into your personal space. “I- I have a boyfriend.” You stuttered out shyly, “So? He doesn’t have to know, baby girl..” He said, sounding sickly sweet as he grabbed your wrist in a bruisingly tight grip so you couldn’t walk away.

The bartender walked over with your drink, he gave the man a confused look but walked away after handing you your drink. “I gotta go back to my boyfriend.” You said nervously, but the man tried to drag you closer.

You suddenly heard a familiar voice behind you, “She has a boyfriend.” Nick told the man sternly, reaching between you and the man to yank his hand off you. “I don’t see him.” The stranger replies smugly, but Nick ignores him and grabs your hand, pulling you away from the bar and towards Chris and Matt again.

As soon as you got back to the group, Matt’s hand grabbed the side of your neck and pulled you into him, free arm going around your waist, hand on your lower back. “What happened, babydoll? Who the hell was that?” He asked sternly, clearly pissed off, but not at you. “I don’t know,” you mumbled quietly, now feeling safe in the arms of your boyfriend, so you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your face into his chest, “He kept flirting with me, and was just being creepy.” Matt huffed in annoyance that another man tried to get with his girl. But, he stayed as calm as he can and rubbed your back gently, using his hand on the side of your neck to tilt your chin up, then leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Do you want to go home, sweetheart? Maybe go sit in the car for a bit?” He mumbled softly against your lips, smiling when you hummed in agreement. “Yeah.. we can go sit in the car for a bit, just us.” Matt smirked and pressed another quick kiss to your lips before pulling away and grabbing your hand, dragging you out the club and into the cool night air.

Matt dragged you over to his car, but instead of getting in the front seats he opens the back door and gets in, you follow and climb into the back with him before being dragged to straddle his lap, having to tilt your head down so you dont hit it on the roof of the car. He smirks and grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in for a deep kiss.

The messy makeout session leads to Matt trailing his hand up your inner thigh, before being interrupted by Matts phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulls away slightly and checks it, seeing a message from Nick that they’re coming out the club now to come home. Matt groans in annoyance, showing you the text which makes you also groan in annoyance.

You both climb out the back of the car and get into the front, you in the passenger seat and Matt in the drivers seat, just before Nick and Chris get into the car Matt grabs your thigh and squeezes it, leaning over to whisper in your ear, “We’ll continue where we left off when we’re back home, alright princess?” You blush slightly and nod, humming softly in agreement, then Chris and Nick open the back doors and get into the car.

[darby-rowe]

18+ | nsfw | mdni academy!coriolanus snow x fem!academy!reader word count 1,375 cw piss(!!), closet sex, clothed sex, degradation, humiliation, dirty talk, dom!coryo, dubcon, fingering (female receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink, descriptions of saliva, not proofread notes i've been having horrible writer's block trying to work on my snowjanus x reader fic, so naturally i decided to write a piss kink fic to hopefully resolve that [two thumbs up]

you felt as if you had no time whatsoever to take a breather. the entire day was just your nose buried deep within your books to prepare for finals, and you didn't dare to tear your eyes away in fear of forgetting crucial information. you were stressed, and worst of all, you can't remember the last time you went to use the restroom as you felt your engorged bladder causing an uncomfortable ache in your pelvis.

your massive need to relieve yourself was only made worse as your boyfriend coriolanus pulled you aside, shoving the two of you inside a vacant janitor's closet. you gasped as coriolanus began grabbing at your tits and ass, shoving his tongue into your mouth in a sloppy, hungry kiss. you heard yourself whimper pathetically into his mouth as your sexual arousal mingled with your aching bladder. a slight dread crawled its way into your chest. if coriolanus continued with what he was doing, you were sure you would never recover from the sheer embarrassment of you pissing yourself during sex

"coryo—" you tried mumbling into his lips. but he was having none of it as he turned you around and shoved your chest into the wall of the closet, raising up your long red pleated skirt above your waist so he could get a good look at your pretty panties.

"don't object," coriolanus commanded, keeping his voice reasonably low so no one passing by the closet would hear them. he carelessly shoved his two middle fingers inside your mouth and ordered you to suck on them. gargling and gagging noises emitted from your throat as he pumped his fingers deep within your mouth to get them as wet as possible. as he withdrew his fingers, you coughed and gasped for air, only for your air to seemingly get caught off as coriolanus's hand tightly clasped onto your mouth. "and don't make a sound,"

you had to admit it — this show of dominance from your boyfriend was insanely hot to you, which made your overflowing bladder ache that much more. a muffled yelp escaped your mouth as coriolanus's two middle fingers, coated in your saliva, found their way under the waistband of your panties then inside your pussy. and you then found yourself in an entrancing in-between of pleasure and pure agony.

coriolanus's fingers were fast — punishingly fast — as they fucked your tight cunt, emitting squelching sounds as they pumped in and out, in and out, in and out. you couldn't help yourself as you whimpered into the palm of coriolanus's hand, desperately grasping at the wall of the closet to find anything to hold on to. "i barely saw you all day," he panted into your ear. "too busy stressing out over final exams. could barely focus because all i could think about was your pussy. but now i finally have you, so don't ruin this for me,"

you tried to crane your neck to give coriolanus an understanding look, but the vice grip he had over your mouth kept your head locked in place looking forward. you arched your back further into his fingers, earning an approving groan from your boyfriend. for a blissful moment, you forgot about your need to piss, but your guard was soon let down as you felt him withdraw his fingers and heard the familiar sound of him pulling his pants down, feeling him pulling your panties to the side.

with a few slaps to your pussy, and an agonizingly slow intrusion of his dick, your knees gravitated towards each other as you started to feel the beginning of the end. soon, you were going to be unable to hold it in, and you were going to have no choice but to relieve yourself all over your legs and his cock. you wanted to tell him, to make him stop before you embarrassed yourself forever, but before any words were spoken, his hand was back on your mouth, silencing you once more.

"ahh, fuck yeah..." coriolanus whispered as his dick entered inside. you rolled your head back as you felt yourself become full, letting out a low groan into coriolanus's hand. "such a nice, tight pussy. so perfect for my cock,"

"oh, oh god," you whimpered as coriolanus pounded his dick deep inside you, your voice muffled. the closet was soon filled with the sounds of his pelvis smacking against your ass, gasps, pants, and muffled moans as the two of you fucked in the risky privacy of the vacant janitor's closet.

you weren't sure if it was because of how good coriolanus's cock felt inside you, your limited amount of air, or the nauseating smell of the different cleaners, but you felt yourself becoming lightheaded and dumb. you were starting to emit low groans as he fucked you nice and hard, even though the danger of pissing yourself was still prevalent. every thrust of his cock felt as if he was intentionally trying to bump into your bladder, like someone gently tapping a water balloon with a needle.

"you're being such a good girl taking my cock," he mumbled into your ear. "and you're gonna let me come inside you, right? yeah? you're gonna let me breed this pussy so you can walk around with my cum inside you, you dirty girl?"

"coryo," you tried to say, hoping he'll understand. "i'm gonna pee,"

"what was that, bunny?" coriolanus mocked, not knowing a single word you were saying due to your voice being muffled. "can't hear you when i'm trying to get you to shut the fuck up,"

your orgasm was drawing dangerously close, and the process was only expedited as coriolanus reached around and began rubbing at your clit. the anticipation was rapidly killing you. moans and mewls escaped your mouth and into the possessive hand of coriolanus.

the walls of your pussy began to contract, signaling the arrival of your climax. coriolanus kept up with his ministrations, whispering dirty words of encouragement.

"that's right, come all over this fuckin' cock," he panted, placing open-mouthed kisses all over the side of your neck. "c'mon, my naughty girl,"

your cries for mercy fell on deaf ears as the continuous pumping of his cock brought you towards your explosive orgasm, in which your pulsating pussy further agitated your bladder. and along with all of your nerves igniting on fire, a steady stream of warm liquid came gushing out of you and onto your legs, pooling onto the floor of the closet. you would be sobbing out of embarrassment if it weren't for the fact that the immediate relief of your aching bladder only added to your orgasm. you groaned heavily as your piss came flooding out of you.

your walls squeezed around coriolanus's dick, causing him to also reach his peak as you continued to piss all over yourself and his throbbing shaft. he released his hand from your mouth, and out came a string of desperate apologies.

"sorry," you whimpered. "i'm so sorry, coryo. i tried to tell you—"

"looks like you made a mess now, didn't you?" coriolanus interjected. "what? i fucked you so good that you had no choice but to piss all over yourself?" he slowly took out his cock and looked down at your messy panties, covered in piss and cum. "so dirty, and so fuckin' hot,"

you took a moment and looked down at the floor beneath you, lifting up your foot to watch your pee drip from your shoes. you closely inspected your white socks to see if any traces of yellow could be seen, but the lighting of the janitor's closet made it nearly impossible to tell.

"i made a mess," you muttered, your voice tinted with frustration. however a delay in your mind made you finally register coriolanus's words. "wait, you thought me peeing myself... was hot? why?"

coriolanus shrugged his shoulders. "why not? did it at least feel good?"

a small shiver coursed down your spine as you remembered the orgasmic relief of your bladder, and you found yourself desperately needing to feel that feeling again. "it felt really fucking good, coryo,"

"then that's all that matters, really," he gave you a gentle smile and kissed your temple. "we should really clean up, though,"

don’t be shy, let’s talk. ♡

[bunniwords]

໑ৎ ׁ ׅ♡ ALIBI 🌀

part xv - masterlist - part xvii xvi. prettiest girl

︶︶ 　 ˚ ᡴꪫ synopsis — you are known for your brain rot anime content on twitter. so much so that you caught the attention of txt’s soobin on his secret stan account and became mutuals. what will become of this new friendship?

bunni speaks — WE BACK and with partial written chapters! i'm not great at writing fluff so bare with me... also i have a bit of writer’s block… so please be kind to me… i’ve wrote this like last week but was really beating myself over it but i decided to just post it…

ONE MONTH.

just one more month before soobin was going to see you in new york. was he ready for it? not exactly. probably far from it actually, but one thing was for sure is that he wanted to see you.

there isn't really a day that goes by without him calling and messaging you. the two of you actually started this thing where you'd each send a series of random photos taken throughout the day while the other was sleeping and it’s not helping him calm down his feelings for you at all. he saved every single one of those photos and put it in an album on his phone to look back at on. he loved imagining you taking each picture with him in mind.

now, this new routine has him developing a bad habit of looking at his phone first thing in the morning. soobin knows he read some sort of article about looking at your phone first thing in the morning isn't really good for you but science didn't account for the feeling of waking up to twenty notifications from the girl you like. waking up to your messages gave soobin profound excitement for the day. his eyes could barely open but his first instinct now was to look at his phone and see what photos you took. his favorites were the ones where you'd take your outfit of the day in your full length mirror in your bedroom or maybe the ones of you posing with your food.

you’ve asked him about his great face reveal and soobin felt bad about not showing his face because you actually asked him a lot about it... to the point where you concluded that he was ugly as a joke. a joke he finds no joy in hearing as he defended his good looks to wits ends.

but you were too deep in your feelings that you were pretty sure you would be okay with however he looked.

i mean, if he was a total predator... you'd definitely reevaluate, but soo was not that. you think.

"are you working from home today?" soo asked you over the voice call.

"yup! i just made breakfast. wanna see?" you asked as you wiggled your bowl in front of the camera.

god, you were so cute.

"let's see. let's see."

"it's just cereal," you laughed, "they had the txt cereal at the store so i grabbed it for funsies since i'm seeing them next month."

"oh, right. haha."

every time txt came up in your conversation, soobin definitely started thinking about revealing the truth and the guilt that came with that. he still isn't sure how you'd react. would you feel betrayed that he didn't tell you? or would you be happy? what if you just leave the restaurant after finding out? or start blackmailing him for having a fan account?

okay, that last thought went a little wild side, because you wouldn't do that. he knows you wouldn't, but his mind definitely wondering about what you’d think about any of this. thinking about you being mad at him and leaving him was probably the worst scenario he could think of. he could already feel someone digging into his chest with a tight grip on his heart from the thought of you hating him.

"damn, okay. i know it wasn't that funny but you could've reacted a little," you joked.

"ha. ha. ha.”

" you’re so annoying…”

soobin laughed with a quick apology and lame excuse saying he was distracted.

you rolled your eyes but accepted his apology anyway. “well, how was your day? you're in japan right?"

yes, txt was doing their japanese comeback before the start of their world tour. but to you, soo was simply on a work trip.

"yeah, i am!"

"how is it?" you said before taking in a spoonful of cereal.

"busy... but fun. my team had a few work events today and i'm so tired," he said.

he was really downplaying his 'work events'. he had a group interview, magazine solo interview, a photoshoot, and to top it all off, there was the music show and fan interaction at the end of the day. he was beyond exhausted but still wanted to talk to you by the end of all of it. although, he didn’t really want to talk to you about work.

"did you want to turn in early? we can always talk in the morning for you," you offered, but you could already hear him grumbling.

"no, just another hour... i couldn’t even talk to you this morning."

oh, were you weak. you weren't going to say no. absolutely, not. you know, he didn’t say that he needed to talk to you everyday, but for him to basically imply that he couldn’t go to bed without talking to you once today almost sent you into a coma.

"oh, uh, yeah, okay, one more hour and then you go to sleep,” you stuttered, thinking you really played that one off.

"right before i forget… japan. did you want anything from here?"

and immediately, your ears perked up.

"oh, yes if i can ask you to look for a few things! i have a list," you bursted out into a fit of giggles from the thought of you being able to get your hands onto anything you got on this anime list.

"you... have a list?" he sounded as if he was judging you.

"hey... it's not as accessible here in america," you pouted, "leave me alone. you want my list or not?"

"give me the list," soobin smiled and you could hear the endearment in his voice.

"also, with all due respect, shut up. i know you got a list. you just wanted to judge me," you fussed.

"hey! that's not true!"

it most definitely was true (to both him having a list and him judging you).

that's alright though because while you were forging your annoyance, you were trying to calm your heart down from imagining this man scouring through the streets of tokyo in search for your most wanted anime merchandise.

TAG LIST: @hoonatic @paegesoobin @lun4kazumii @noraimp @isa942572 @yourenzoo @soobjvn @besciitos @sakiimeo @kumabeom @yyeonzi @bunnisoobin @girlz4jaem @msorriluv @wonderstrucktae @thing89 @dreeener @arep4con-qu3sp @otblous @luvvvash @huethusiasm @starryeyedluv @304files @kang-ulzzang @thisrandombitch @nocturnal-lanturn @bbeomgyucafe @virgo-and-libra @mumeimei @jinostooth @gy0th-yawnzzn @pinkhor1zon @film-sea @daechwitonguetech @jakesbubu @pagetammgyu @hanniemylovelyquokka @s0urcherry @bee-the-loser @sol3chu

[pixiesfz]

I’m sorry this took so long to put up I just had the WORST writers block

a walk down memory lane j.r x reader

plot: you take Olivia’s dog on a walk and run into Jill

warning: mentions of sa, bruises, anxiety, this series is based of the book it ends with us

“So can you just look after him for a couple of days?” Olivia asked you from the doorway as you patted her dog Stanley.

“Absolutely, my life’s been a bit boring so he should shake things up” you smiled, standing up to grab the dog food from Olivia’s hands.

“Speaking of your life” Olivia trailed off and you looked down to your feet “I can sense something is up with you and Ellie”

You froze.

How do you answer her? You couldn’t just straight out tell her that your girlfriend had hit you, Ellie loves you and you knew it and she hadn’t hit you again, at least not purposely.

But you could feel yourself pulling away.

She may have loved you but you didn’t love her, not anymore.

“I uhm- yeah” you stated shortly and your friend quirked her eyebrow “what’s happened?” She asked and you sighed, lifting your hand to brush your hair back, not seeing Olivia’s eyes stare at your bruised wrists from when Ellie accidently gripped your wrist to tight on a walk.

“We just had an argument that’s all” you shrugged and she nodded, not convinced.

“Well if anything happens call me, I’m here for you” she said and you nodded “thanks”.

"Please do" she said softly, urgency written on her face as you tried to look away from her.

Letting Stanley off of his leash at the local park you finally took a deep breath.

You knew you had to get out of your relationship, you knew it would be the best option for you but you were scared.

really scared.

You stared at your wrist, covering it up with your jacket before Stanley came running up to you with a soccer ball in his mouth, thankfully not having popped it.

“Stanley that’s not ours” you laughed at the sight

He dropped it at your feet and sat down, wagging his tail.

“I didn’t know you had a dog”

You looked up from Stanley to see Jill who was smiling ear to ear.

“Oh uhm I don’t, I’m just looking after a friends” you told her and she nodded “but he needs to learn not to steal” you joked and grabbed the soccer ball and looked at Jill

“This yours?”

She nodded “yeah but he looks like he wants it more than me right now” she laughed and you laughed with her.

A silence fell over as you both watched the cute dog roll the ball around.

"How are you?" Jill asked and you shrugged

terrible, unsafe, sick of life

"I'm good"

"Anything else?" she asked and you let out a small laugh "sorry I didn't mean to be blunt I just have a lot on my mind I guess" you told her and she nodded her head "Is it because of looking after a living animal, I remember you couldn't even keep a plant alive" she laughed and you thought back to the multiple plants you tried to have as a teenager.

"Not a good plant mum but I think a dog mum may be different, they at least speak when they aren't fed" you smirked before Stanley barked from his spot, now revealing a popped soccerball

"I can get you a new one-" "Don't bother I have plenty, it is my job after all"

You smiled "Isn't it cool? We both got into our dream jobs" you smiled and Jill turned to you "Did you get into writing?" she smiled and you nodded "As soon as I moved I got into it, can be slow at times but I don't regret it"

Jill smiled, proud of you and your achievements "Last time I checked you were still at Wolfsburg" you said, explaining your shock at the game "you keeping tabs on me?" Jill teased.

You gave her a look "Oh c'mon of course I would, I just happened to miss your transfer to City" you told her and her smile grew. "I tried to check on with you" she admitted "I couldn't get access to your phone, your parents basically cut me off every time I rang the home number but I asked around"

"spying on me?"

"Well I cared" she told you and you both shared a look.

"I just wanted to make sure your safe, it is the one thing you deserve most"

you weren't safe.

You didn't respond with words but looked down nodding your head "thanks Jill".

"Any popular songs I may of heard that are actually written by you?"

You smiled "Do you know Adele's song 'All I Ask'"

Jill gasped "Yes"

"Yeah I didn't write that one"

You tried not to laugh at Jill's lack of excitement as you joked "Well it's good to know you still haven't lost your humor"

You felt your phone buzz against your jeans as you shared an apologetic look with Jill "I have to-" "take it, I'll play with the dog who's name is?" she pondered off as you accepted the call "It's Stanley!" You yelled out to her.

"Who are you talking to?"

A chill ran up your spine.

Why didn't you check the caller ID.

"Just someone who wanted to pat Stanley" you said, technically telling the truth "You've been out a long time" Ellie's voice grew accusingly.

"I took him to the park" you said as if it wasn't a big deal.

Unbeknownst to you Jill watched your phone call, she assumed it was your partner when you accepted the call but something didn't feel right to her about Ellie.

But she wasn't sure if it was because Ellie was living the life she always wanted, a public relationship with you.

Your breath hitched on the phone when Ellie didn't answer straight away, only a strained hmm on her behalf "Is that why your standing there talking to your ex-girlfriend" You widened your eyes and started to frantically look around which caused Jill to stand up with caution.

"we're going home y/n" Ellie commanded you, her tone angry as you grew scared

"y/n are you okay?" Jill softly asked you

You nodded your head before picking up Stanley's leash "okay El" you said, your voice quiet, damaged.

You dropped your phone from your ear "It was nice talking to you Jill but unfortunately I have to go" Your heart was racing as you clipped the dogs lead onto his collar, your breath shortening as Jill watched in confusion before you walked away quickly into a sleek black car.

Ellies hand clung onto your thigh as soon as you sat down and tears pricked your eyes "It was just a conversation-" "Shut up" she told you and you took a big breath in.

You couldn't do it anymore.

As Ellie's grip on you tightened your left hand reached behind your back to find your phone and pulled it out to the outer side of your outside leg to hide it.

You texted on Olivia's contact before typing.

'help me'

Though she would get the message and come home it wouldn't save you from the punishment you would get when Ellie pushes you threw the front doors.

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Our girl

Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Requested by @jelloangela

Request gist: Angry sex with the Weasley twins. An argument that leads into something rough. Fluff at the end.

A/N: Thanks for the request! I decided to use the bunny and kitten nicknames that I used in the headcanons I wrote. I think it came out as the twins being condescending and owning the reader instead of angry sex, so apologies. I got halfway through writing and just went “does this make sense?”. But I stuck with it. I also only wrote that George fucks the reader but Fred is present and teasing the reader, if that counts as twins x reader. Writer's block hit me hard with this one (but writers block can be defeated with old movies and homemade biscuits)

T/W: Rough sex, unprotected sex, jealous + possessive twins, Fred is a little bit of a meanie, nicknames, manhandling, love bites, choking, hair gripping?, degradation and dumbification, allusions to exhibitionism/ prostitution, a teeny bit of overstimulation, soft aftercare

You stormed into the flat above the shop, the twins hot on your trail. They were so jealous of every man you served. If a man came to the counter while you were serving or asked you for help while you were on the shop floor, they were right behind you to scare the man away. If a man so much as looked at you, they would appear as if by magic. That’s how today played out.

You had been on the tills when a man came to the counter. You served him the same way you served any customer, but according to the twins, there was more to the story.

To them, the man had been eyeing you up, staring at your tits when you weren't looking. They even went as far as suggesting that the man was going to ask you out if they hadn't been there. The man was just a customer, but to them he was an enemy eyeing up their girl. They practically ushered him out of the shop and told him that they were closing soon (even though there was still an hour till closing).

Fred was the first to speak up, his hand grabbing your arm to stop you from pacing around the small living room.

“He was flirting with you, Kitten. Stop pretending that you didn't love his attention”.

He pulled your arm, twirling you to face him. George came up next to the two of you and trailed his hand up with back. George leaned closer to your ear and spoke with a soft voice.

“You know we care about you, Bunny. You don't need his attention, not when you have us. We’ll always take care of our girl”.

Your scoff only made them persist more.

“That's not the point, you both-”

Fred’s lips crashing onto yours cut you off. His eager hands found your waist, tugging at the T-shirt you had on. He broke the kiss to pull it over your head before George grabbed your arms and held them behind your back. His grip wasn’t painfully tight, just tight enough to stop you from getting away. Fred took his time pulling your skirt down, admiring how you looked being manhandled in place by his brother.

George pulled you towards the couch, taking a seat before pulling you onto his lap. Your legs were either side of his, your back to him with your arms still being held in place by his.

Fred leaned his face closer to yours, that smirk plastered on his face.

“Maybe you should have behaved, we might have gone easy on you Kitten. Or maybe you wanted me and Georgie to treat you like this”.

His hand slid down your stomach to your clothed pussy. He cupped your pussy, enjoying the way your hips seemed to move on their own, grinding against his hand. He pulled his hand away and ripped your underwear from you. The hand that teased you came up to gently squeeze your neck.

“You will behave when George fucks you, wont you?”

You didn't even have time to respond before you heard George pull his zipper down. You hadn't even noticed the absence of his hand on your arm. You suddenly felt something prod at your entrance before being pushed inside. The lack of preparation made you throw your head back, the sting only fueling your growing desire. George’s hips bucked up into yours, his grip tightening on your arms. His pace was brutal, his tip repeatedly rubbing that spongy spot. Fred remained standing in front of you, his hand finding your hair. He gripped your locks tightly, keeping your face towards him.

His other hand pressed your cheeks together, his tone condescending.

“This is what you needed, wasn't it? Wanted to be fucked like a little slut? Maybe we should have let that guy have a go at your tight pussy, see how much we could have charged him. We’d watch every second. Watch you take it like a slut, hear you beg for us to fuck you instead of him.”

Fred’s words had your pussy clenching around George's cock, making George groan.

“She likes it, Freddie. Imagine how much we’d make just from letting random guys fuck her mouth.”

The twins chuckled, and your cheeks blushed from their humiliating remarks.

Fred's hand came down to rub slow circles over your clit.

“Don't worry, Kitten. We’d never let another man touch you. You’re our pretty slut, aren't you?”

You nodded so fast, whiplash kicked in. You were so close, you could’ve cum from their words alone. The pleasure was building, the twins knew. But they were merciful, this time anyway. George said the words before you could even ask.

“Cum for me, Bunny”

Like the flip of a switch, the band snapped. Your moans filled the sex scented air as your pussy gushed around George's cock. His hands held your arms all throughout, keeping you steady. Fred’s eyes watched your face. He took in every detail as if he hadn't seen you cum before.

George's hips kept bucking, neither twin worrying about your moans that slowly became whines and pleas that it was “too much”. Fred's hand returned to your clit, his face level with yours. Georges cock pulsed inside of you before cum painted your walls. His thrusts slowed to a stop, settling you into his lap and releasing your arms from his grip.

Fred took it as his cue to lift you into his arms before carrying you into the bathroom with a quick remark about ‘looking presentable in front of a lady’ to George. Fred sat you on the side of the bath and turned the taps on. He added all of your favourites from bubble bath to bath salts. When the water had risen and the bath was filled with bubbles, he helped you into the steamy water.

George came into the bathroom and sat on the floor next to Fred, both boys watching you as if you would vanish any second. The water against your aching body felt heavenly, but only one thing could make it better. Your hands left the water, one in each direction of each twin. Both boys reached for their designated hand, holding it like a precious jewel was in their palm. George's other hand came to stroke your cheek softly, and the twins gave each other a look that said it all.

You were their girl.

[eyesthatroll]

7 and 7 | quinn hughes

pairing; qh43 x fem!reader

warning(s); drinking (sharing a drink???) making out (but no smut)

word count; blurb | 0.55k

author's note; this is sooooo self indulgent. you might think the drink thing is nasty, and maybe it is, but it's so hot to me (is this a judgement free zone?!) missed you guys, have had so much writers block recently. ugh. anyways, i'd love to hear your thoughts. love ya. -mari.

"I think that guy is flirting with Y/N," Brock comments, giving Quinn a nudge in the shoulder as he gestures towards the bar. Quinn's brows furrow in confusion, his attention drawn to you. You're dressed in a skin-tight little black dress that ends halfway above your knees, a silhouette that commands attention. At the bar, another man stands, leaning against the counter, fully turned towards you, engaging in conversation.

"Yeah, looks like it," Quinn agrees, his teeth grazing over his bottom lip in a contemplative manner as he absentmindedly stirs the straw around his now-empty glass. His gaze remains fixed on the unfolding scene between you and the mystery guy.

"Are you gonna go over there?"

Quinn shakes his head, a confident yet calm assurance in his response. He's not worried in the least. While he'd intervene if you signaled any distress, he trusts you implicitly, and knows you can handle yourself well.

He doesn't even notice when Brock excuses himself to go to the bathroom; Quinn is too entranced by you to realize he's now the sole occupant at the table.

His attention remains fixed on you, captivated by the sight of your head thrown back in laughter. The bartender places two drinks in front of you, and Quinn watches intently as you take both in your hands. A brief exchange of words occurs between you and the mystery guy, and then, with a graceful turn on your heels, you make your way back to the booth where Quinn and the others were situated.

"Babe!" You exclaim animatedly, stumbling to a pause to set the drinks down before practically falling to claim your spot on Quinn's lap. His hands instinctively wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as he inhales your signature scent—Japanese Cherry Blossom. "Tyler over there bought our drinks, isn't that so sweet of him?"

Both of you glance back at the bar where he still stands, his face a mix of confusion and shock. Quinn knows Tyler expected you to go to the booth of girls just in front of the two of you, and that causes his lips to twist into a small smirk. Quinn raises his glass to him, nodding his head as a salute. Effortlessly, he tilts the glass against his lips.

"Good?" you ask.

"Mhmm," he responds, his tongue briefly darting out to catch stray drips of whiskey on his bottom lip. "You want some, baby?"

You nod eagerly, and he brings the glass up to his lips once more. Before you can fully process the motion, his hand gently grips the skin of your neck, tilting your head back ever so slightly. Straightening up, he latches his lips to yours. The full-bodied, sweet and smoky liquid filters into your mouth with grace, and you swallow quickly before Quinn engages your tongue in a passionate dance.

Your throat burns from the alcohol as Quinn kisses you with intensity, his lower hand reaching down to grip your thigh, his fingers trailing upwards towards your heat. A moan escapes your lips, and it gets caught in Quinn's throat as continues his assault on your lips. He only pulls away when he begins to feel lightheaded, but not before his teeth latch onto your bottom lip. A whine leaves you, both from pain and the loss of contact of Quinn's lips against yours.

As you exhale heavy breaths, you lock eyes with him, his pupils dilated from a potent mix of alcohol and lust. Remnants of your dark red lipstick stain his, messily ending just above his chin. Quick to address the aftermath, you grab a napkin from the table and attempt to wipe off his mouth.

Quinn pulls you into his side, and you lean your head on his shoulder. He glances slightly to the side, noticing Tyler is gone. "Good?" he asks.

You squeeze his hand, a tipsy smile on your lips. 'Mhmm."