Last Seen Blogs
emmelhsa-ms
WhatAmIDoingHere
palesweetscherryblossom
Doing concepts that nobody else will
teddykaczynski
im in the repair bay casting spells
godbound
Raiden
tsurugee1
text
Text
kento nanami x afab!reader
a.n: yeah
tw: smut !
Your thighs ached.
One of the more mild consequences of your actions, you suppose. You can't really complain, however, when your boyfriend is blowing your back out to a diabolical degree. You'd begun on your hands and knees, pushing back up against your boyfriend's dick but at some point, Nanami decided that was more power than you deserved and took control. You didn't have the chance to process the shock of being shoved face-first into the duvet because the new angle had your, now muffled, moans sounding borderline pornographic.
"Kento- hng. Fuck!"
There's a groan from behind you as Nanami feels your cunt flutter around him. He digs his nails into the soft flesh of your hips in response. "Dirty girl."
He slides one of his big hands down the curve of your back until it reaches the space between your shoulder blades and shifts his body weight forward until his hand is pinning your chest flush to the bed. His upper half is practically engulfing you, and the change in position pushes him further inside you. His other hand still grips your hip and drags it back and forth while his pistons into your heat. The sound that echoes through the room is sloppy and gross, and you feel properly debauched as you writhe beneath him.
He's invading your senses. The strength in the one hand that keeps you in place drives you crazy. His scent floods your nose and has your head spinning while the sound of his harsh pants triggers something feral in you.
You're close. Toppling right on the brink but unable to tip over that edge. A whine tears from your throat when you realize you need more. It's not enough.
Luckily for you, Nanami seems to read your mind and breathes an airy laugh, "Greedy."
Despite his amusement, the hand planted on your back ghosts its way down your curves and hooks under your hips until his fingers brush against the most sensitive part of your sex. A few quick circles of his fingertips and a delicious amount of pressure immediately have your legs shaking and tears blurring your vision. Distantly, you hear yourself babble a string of please and yes but it's soon the last thing on your mind as white-hot fire spreads from between your legs and curls deliciously around your spine. A strangled cry leaves your lips and warm tears squeeze past your shut eyelids and soak into the duvet below.
#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami imagine#jujustsu kaisen x reader#kento nanami smut#jujustu kaisen smut#he actually only says three words bc ive never actually seen a single second of jjk 😼😼
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
miguel o'hara x afab!reader
a.n: might have a thing for fangs
tw: smut !
One hand scrambles for purchase in your tangled cream duvet as Miguel brings you to the brink again, and the other latches onto his wrist. Every inch of your body is covered in sweat, your sweat and his, and if you weren’t so wholly debauched you’d scold him for ruining the fresh sheets you’d just put on that afternoon. But the thought couldn’t be furthest from your mind. Not when the rutting of his hips into yours is practically lethal, and the pointed claws of his hand dig into the soft skin of your throat so much that it stings. He’s got you pinned down, one big hand pressed into the space above your pelvis so he can feel himself there, and the other wrapped around your neck while he towers over you. Hunched over just enough that you can feel his harsh breaths against the shell of your ear as his hips punch into your own. All you can focus on is his low growling and the band pulled taut in your stomach. The way he’s fucking you is primal and lewd and gross and it has you writhing. Sweat glistens across your brow, and spit mixes with the slick between your thighs from where he’d spat before he’d split you open. The wet sounds from your cunt make most of the sound in the room, only interrupted when you manage to catch your breath enough to cry out or when Miguel mutters vulgar words in Spanish that leave you aching. The sound that breezes past your lips as Miguel drags his fangs across your pulse point is pathetic, but the half-whine half-sob has his hips driving into you faster.
“¿Te gusta así?” His tone is smug and despite not seeing his face you can feel his mouth curl into a smile when his canines brush against your throat again.
For a moment you don’t answer him, you can’t answer him because the push and pull of his body effectively drill the air out from your lungs but eventually you manage a strangled yes.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara imagine#across the spiderverse x reader#this is the shortest thing I've ever written but I doubt I'll ever have the cojones to write a full blown smutfic lmao
775 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm bones
not a minor!!!!!
embarrassed of my old blog so I made this one !
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
softie (cod mwii)
A/N: this was supposed to be something stupid so I could get into the groove of writing again but for some reason half way through I decided it would be a good idea to start like five other wips so this is coming out way later than I wanted
w.c: 1.6k
summary: obligatory cat fic I write for every new fandom
warnings: probably some swearing lmao, also my indecisive ass didn't know if this should be a ship fic or platonic so I tried hinting at ghost x reader but didn't commit
“This is the safe house?”
Your tone is incredulous as you take in the house- no you think shack is a better word for it- in all its glory. The building is in the middle of nowhere, some abandoned acre of field, deep in the Russian countryside, and you’re surprised it hadn’t collapsed in on itself yet. Each plank of wood siding is a deep brown color that makes you think that all of them are definitely rotten, a few of the windows are broken in, and some of the roofing is no longer on the roof but is instead hanging off the clearly handmade gutters.
Someone shoves past you and makes for the door. “It’ll have to do.” Ghost’s voice is gruff as he twists the doorknob and walks inside. He clears the entrance and signals for you and Soap to follow. You both pull out your guns from their holsters and trail after Ghost as he goes further into the house. As you all split up to clear different rooms, you let yourself feel a little relief since the interior isn’t half as bad as the outside. It’s dusty and cluttered, but you aren’t worried the floor is going to be falling from beneath you.
It doesn't take long to clear the entire building. It’s small, one story with a wine cellar outside by the backdoor. You meet up with Soap and Ghost in the cramped living room. They come in together through an entrance in the front of the room while you enter through a small doorway on the side. Noticing the way Soap is beelining for the tiny, green corduroy couch, you vault over the arm and stretch your body across its entirety before he has the chance to claim a seat. The cushions smell somewhat of mildew yet you can’t find it in you to care. Its the most comfortable thing you’ve lain on in the past month.
Soap immediately starts grumbling but switches course to the sunken-in recliner residing in the corner but not before muttering, ‘Fuckin’ roaster’ and settling into its beige seat. Naturally, Ghosts takes posts near the main doorway to the living room, where you assume he has a view of the front entryway.
With the threat of Soap gone, you attempt to get comfortable. You roll onto your back and try to ignore the way the lumps and attachments on your tac vest dig into you. Despite the discomfort, your body seems to sag in relief as you finally allow the tension to leave your muscles. The mission had been kicking your ass from the get-go and you were going to savor every moment of peace you could get your hands on. As you feel your eyelids start to get heavy, you force yourself to move your head until you face Ghost. To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. If he’s in any way affected by you catching him he doesn’t show it.
“How long are we gonna be here?”
He breaks eye contact to glance out of the nearest window, there's a round hole in one of the panes from what you assume was a stone being thrown through it. Like always, his voice is gruff as he responds, “Until Bravo Team RVs here.”
“So you don’t know.”
“No.” He huffs. “I don’t know.”
You only yawn in response. There's a few minutes of silence that follow, the only noise being the tinny sounds of metal hitting metal as Soap disassembles his handgun and cleans it. The quiet is broken when a dull thump sounds from the kitchen. It’s so soft that if you didn’t have years of experience being constantly on edge with your eyes and ears peeled, you never would have noticed. You’re not the only one who heard it either. Ghost’s posture stiffened and Soap halted his movements. There’s a pregnant pause before there’s another soft thump. This time you all spring into action. Ghost moves first, bringing his gun up and disappearing down the hall towards the kitchen, you’re quick to follow with Soap on your heels. However, you aren’t able to get very far because the doorway into the kitchen is blocked by Ghost’s hulking frame.
“Ghost, what the fuck is it?” You hiss.
His responce is a little irked. “There’s a buncha fuckin’ cats in here.”
You and Soap are completely in sync as you lower your weapons and spit out a sharp, “What?”
Ghost simply moves further into the tiny kitchen and slides to the right so you can get a better look. Sitting on the white countertop are four kittens that couldn’t be more than a month or two old and on the floor, what you assume, are their mama and another kitten. The two thumps you’d heard were probably from them jumping from the counter to the ground. The mom wasn’t very old either, scrawny but not mangy. Naturally, she seemed apprehensive of the three of you, her ears pulled back and tail puffed up slightly but she didn’t seem aggressive. Of course, that could change the minute any of you got closer to one of her babies.
“There's so many.” Fighting the urge to walk right up and scoop each and every little ball of fur into your arms is almost physically impossible.
There’s a soft hmph from beside you as Soap puts his knife away, “How’d they get in?” He moves into the kitchen to stand beside Ghost. You don’t miss the careful way he walks, his steps are a little gentler than his normal stomping gait like he’s trying not to frighten the cats.
Ghost nods his head towards a paneless window directly above the sink, “There. Reckon we can scare them off and board it up.”
You scoff. “Why scare them off?” In the time you’d been standing and talking, the mom must have decided that none of you were a threat because she’d shifted from a defensive position to sitting and eyeing Soap curiously.
“They’re vermin,” is his deadpan reply.
“It’s a litter of kittens, not a buncha rats. Besides,” you gesture towards the other man in the room, “Suds over there doesn’t seem to mind.”
Soap was leaning over and running his gloved hand along the older cat’s back, and you could hear her purring from the handful of meters between you. His attention is pulled away when he angles his face up to glare at you but he never stops giving the cat affection. Seeing that their mother seemed to trust the new strangers, her kittens jumped off the counter to investigate.
Most of them made their way over to you, but the smallest one scampered over to Ghost. He merely glared down at its gray, fluffy face.
“Mom’s definitely a stray, there’s no way a feral cat would cozy up to someone like that. And I don’t think Soap is especially approachable.” As you speak, you bend at the waist and start pulling off your gloves. There was no way you were missing out on feeling them with your bare hands. “Babies are barely two months- their eyes are still blue.” After petting each- now incredibly rowdy- kitten, you take one in each hand and straighten. Immediately, you’re met with Soap’s quirked eyebrow and what you can only assume is Ghost’s stony expression. Your cheeks warm in embarrassment. “I worked as an assistant vet in high school!”
The two kittens you’d left on the floor swiftly turn their attention to Ghost. His eyes harden again as they run over to him and join the runt who hadn’t left his side, meowing as loud as their little lungs would allow.
Soap barks out a laugh at Ghost’s stiff posture. “You scared of a couple a’ cats L.T?”
“I don’t usually make it a habit to associate with pests.” The taller man eyes the kittens you’re holding. “Probably got rabies or something.”
You hold them tighter to your chest, at least as close as your tac vest would allow, like it’ll protect them from Ghost’s irritated glare. “Actually, it’s pretty rare for cats to-”
It's then that the cats sitting on the ground decide they’re sick of the mask-wearing man ignoring them and promptly launch themselves upward and cling to the worn denim of Ghost’s jeans. They begin climbing him like he’s some incredibly stoic, aloof tree and he flicks his eyes between you and Soap.
“Get them off.” He grunts.
Humming, you meet Soap’s eyes and pretend to think about it.
“No.” You and Soap say at the same time, once again in sync as you start to make your way out of the kitchen. Just as you turn on your heel to leave, you point at the ground near Ghost’s boot where the runt is still staring up at him, “And don’t forget the little one.”
It’s only a minute later when you hear someone muttering under their breath and the familiar heavy stomps of military-issued boots. As you set some of your gear on the beat-up coffee table you see Ghost turn into the room out of the corner of your eye. You have to fight a laugh when you see the two kittens still hanging onto his pants. Except, when you study the rest of him you notice that something is missing and you’re instantly turning around to tell him off for leaving the other kitten. Before you can manage, you’re interrupted by Soap’s bark of laughter.
“Never thought of you as a softie.” He says, a bit hypocritically if you might add since he has his now ungloved hand buried in the mom cat’s fur. She’d curled up there the second he had sat back down in his recliner.
You inspect Ghost again and this time you see what you miss; a little gray face peeking out of one of the bigger pockets on the chest of his tactical vest. This time you do laugh but you slap a hand over your mouth to stifle it.
Ghost’s glare jumps between you and Soap, “Say a word to anyone and I’ll gut you.”
#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#soap x reader#john mactavish x reader#call of duty x reader#cod mw2 x reader#call of duty imagine#simon riley imagine#john mactavish imagine#this is stupid but that's the point#pinky promise
489 notes
·
View notes