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#Anyway I hope you enjoy him
melanc0ffee · 2 years
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hi, here’s a meme I put way too much effort into :) also just the version without the text because I think it looks neat
but anyway, this is Fiachna! he’s a bastard (affectionate) and I want you all to perceive him :)c
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themisterhip · 1 year
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I get brat vibes from 1998 Vash  (≧∇≦)/
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kbsd · 1 month
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when a lovely flame dies, smoke gets in your eyes
OR: what were we supposed to take away from episode 4 if not ‘bucky is a war widow’
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hansoeii · 1 year
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the steard is making a return!
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canibeanythingelse · 5 months
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its mistah showtime !
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sneez · 5 months
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my lord of autism
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little-pup-pip · 23 days
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Build-A-Bear Chococat!!
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eveningepiphany · 5 months
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something about the legs | h.s oneshot
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summary: something about your best friends legs really does it for you, especially in skinny jeans…
warnings: besties with unexpected and very impulsive benefits, oral sex (mrec), lots and lots of talk about those mfing legs and thighs, dirty talk, h not expecting you to be like that until you are.
a/n: so it’s been a hot minute… hi again🤪 but something rlly just sent me spiralling with this pic of h’s fucking legs. look at them. anyways, enjoy me being a slut and channeling it into some fine literature, enjoy xoxo
———
Ovulation week is a curse. An absolute, utter curse.
Between the multitude of random fluctuating symptoms and skyrocketing hormones, you feel dreaded enough as it is. But the worst part, is every fucking month you become absolutely manic with need.
Some are increasingly better or worse than others, but this month is something off the charts.
There is no warrant for you to be this fucking horny at 9:32pm on a Thursday night. Yet here you are, squirming because you’re around someone that already riles you up enough as it is.
Harry is your best friend. Has been for years. Since the awkward starting phases of middle school. All braces paired with horrendous fashion choices. And into the ages of highschool throughout all the drama and predictable thematics. Into the present, where life throws you curveballs as you enter the world as young adults, and now that he’s in one direction. You can’t imagine going through all that with anyone else.
Actually, maybe it’s fit to mention you’re almost certain that this man never went through an awkward phase… despite the fact possibly everyone else on the planet did. Harry did not.
He was cute from the day he was born, it’s evident in the pictures, up until he hit puberty, then he became some ungodly mix of both cute and ridiculously hot.
It’s disgusting that someone can do both things at the same time. And also revolting that they can have no idea at all.
But tonight, he is all hot. Between the way he’s dressed, the way he’s walking, and the way he’s talking. It’s close to killing you where you’re sat.
Thighs clenched together like there’s a thousand dollar check between them, you sit on a outdoor couch at your family’s holiday house.
It’s just the two of you outside on the large decked patio. It’s a huge house by the lake that your parents and grandparents own, so you invited Harry to come stay for the week. Your family were thrilled you invited him, but have already turned in for an early night. Since they planned to be out on the lake for a day of water activities almost before the damn sun was even fully up.
Harry has a glass of alcohol in his hands— one that is completely dwarfed in his hold. It’s condensation forming small droplets over the ridges of his fingers.
He hasn’t realised the staring you’ve been doing, as he paces the deck talking about something to do with a recent song he’s been writing.
You’re sliding in small hums of agreement at the appropriate times without even hearing what he’s saying. Only the pleasing lilt in his voice that tickles your ears as it enters them.
He’s got those black skinny jeans on, the pair that cling to his hips for dear life. And not only are they fit to his hips, but they hug every single curve on his legs. The thick of his thighs all the way down to the muscle of his calf.
And if anything was the killer for you tonight, it was those.
You’re surprised you’re not drooling on yourself. Which is fucking disgusting, but fact. As there is an over-production of saliva in your mouth right now just looking at his legs.
He is so muscly there. The presumed strength of his thighs makes you actually pant, and you never thought legs did it for you like this. But my god right now, they certainly are.
“But I jus’ dunno Y/N,” he turns to you, causing you to snap your gaze from the curve of his ass which you were shamelessly just staring at, back to his face.
It doesn’t get better for you anywhere you look. The man was built and sculpted by a god. Every feature was painstaking to look at, and not be able to touch.
“What d’ya reckon would sound better?” He asks, nonchalantly, unaware you were just eyeing him up.
You feel some shame now, as you scramble to find an answer for the question you don’t even know the context for.
“Well, i think whatever you feel flows better. Yknow?” You swallow, praying to god it’s diluted enough of an answer that he’ll just take it without question.
He nods, and relief floods through you, “i s’pose you’re right.”
However that relief hardly lasts long, because he’s not as clueless as you’d presumed, “You’re pretty good at giving advice even when you’re only half listening.”
He saunters over from the span of deck he’d been pacing the last 10 minutes, sitting down next to you with a smug look on his face. You feel the cushions dip with his body weight, and you’re so delusioned that even a part of you twinges with desire at the understanding of his weight. The idea of him pressing it down on top of you during—
“What’s on ya mind, love, why are you s’faraway lookin’?” He asks, sipping at his drink with a quirk of his dark eyebrows.
“I—“ Christ. He’s manspreading a bit right now… thighs pushed apart, “I’m just tired. Been a big few days.”
His curly, and boyishly-messy hair is cascading over his forehead and casting a shadow of his green gaze, the same one that’s nailing you where you’re sat right now.
He doesn’t look very convinced. And he’s watching your eyes flicker around, looking guilty of a lie, presumably the words that just came from your mouth.
“You don’t have t’lie, dove.” He laughs, a soft songbird-like chuckle that somewhat eases your tenseness.
You feel so dirty for thinking about him like this. When he can’t tell you it’s okay to be imagining absolutely sinful things you’d do… or let be done when it comes to him. However, you are so hormonal right now, that you don’t have it in yourself to stop.
He was just simply the wrong person, in the wrong place, at coincidentally the right time in your hormonal cycle.
And you feel even worse because there’s years of history behind the two of you. And friends are not meant to think of each other like this, it makes things quickly complicated. And this is not a hallmark film.
“I know.” You sigh out, “it’s not you, H. I’m just… hormonal.”
His first thought was that you were on your period, a look of tender concern flitting across his face.
“Oh, is your period making you feel sick?”
You could laugh at the irony. You are infact neither of the things he thinks. Not bleeding, and not ill.
He has looked after you before when you’ve been in the trenches with your period. He is always so willing to get you anything when you’re not feeling well.
And you can tell by the look on his pretty face he’s about to ask you he can get you anything to help— pain relief, water, snacks or simply a hug.
A gentleman, as always.
But if he asks you if you need anything, you only have one answer and that’s him. You need him, and not in a platonic way. So you interject before he can ask,
“No, quiet the opposite.” You shake your head, pursing your lips.
“But it’s fine,” you amend curtly, “just girl stuff.”
The two of you get consumed by a momentary silence, he was waiting for more information, which you simply were not giving. After a few seconds, he sputters out a sudden laugh.
“You can tell me, if you want, idiot.” He laughs, nudging you with his knee. His very attractive leg being left pressed into yours. “Gross details and personal stuff never usually stop us.”
Your whole body is burning up, overwhelmed. He is so fucking hot, and caring. You want him filling up your goddamn throat.
“No, trust me. This is all left best untold and ignored. I can’t help it, so we’re just ignoring it.” Your tone is certain, and to this he nods. Able to tell that’s as much of an answer he’d be getting for now, so he begrudgingly accepts it.
“Fine, fine, you’re just so stiff. Need t’relax.” He slides his free hand behind your back to pull him into his side.
Tugging you the small distance between you two, your head comes naturally to rest in the crook of his neck. Nose inhaling the woodsy scent of his cologne, smelling like the refreshingly cool breeze on a muggy summer night.
His thumb strokes a delicate back and forth rhythm on the bare skin it’s found between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your fitted top.
It’s killing you, because he’s so gentle with you. Such a sweetheart really, but you’re breaking out a sweat at the feeling of his fingertips against your skin. You need a cold shower.
You try not to let your eyes wander down to the legs in those fucking jeans.
“S’long as ya alright,” he murmurs into your hair, “is there anything you need from me? ‘Cause if I can do anything for ya, yknow I would.”
Your stomach drops, how are you even supposed to answer that. Your face heats with even more guilt.
Your internal voice drops in her two cents on the question— your cock, she confidently stated. That was what she wanted.
“No, nothing you can do that’s reasonable, H.” You say, too dangerously close to him dragging the truth out of your needy mouth for your liking.
He tilts his head down to look at the profile of your face, curiously prodding further, “How unreasonable are we talking?”
“Ridiculously and foolishly unreasonable.”
“Why?”
“Sh. Don’t make me tell you, because I don’t want to.” You state defiantly, rolling away from his hold, since now you’re talking about it— although vaguely— it’s just making it worse.
Focusing on it is making the need more intense, your eyes feasting unintentionally on his muscled body relaxing on the couch.
He’s got this smirk on his lips. One you want to kiss off.
“You’re blushing, is it that bad?”
You scoff, “Yes, that bad.”
“Okay… so, it’s not your period, and it’s technically fixable— since you just said it’s unreasonable for me to do it… not impossible.” he’s wondering out loud, watching your every move.
Which now you’ve stood up and started pacing, trying to distract yourself from the pulsing between your legs and the begging voice in your head that wants to touch him so badly.
“Stop being nosey! God!” You frustratedly whine out, and he laughs at your sudden anger at not only him, but at seemingly just being a woman.
“Just trying to help, baby, don’t get mad.” He teases, and between his suddenly mocking mouth, your resolve snaps like a fickle twig.
“Fuck, I’m horny. Harry!” You groan out, covering your eyes over with the palms of your hands so you don’t have to see his likely disgusted face at your confession.
But now that you’ve started you can’t stop, “You just… your fucking legs and thighs are just… I don’t know! I’m ovulating and you’re just really sexy, it’s frustrating and I really want to die right now, H.”
In reality, his brows had just shot up with surprise, lips parting in shock. He could not believe you just admitted that.
He glanced down to his legs. He’s just in jeans, it wasn’t like he felt as though they were anything to write home about.
It shocked him that you even… well obviously the two of you are best friends. But it was rare that topics of sex came up, so all the sudden the conversation being about that and also about you is making his head spin.
Yet something comes over him, he doesn’t think as he speaks his next words, “Tha’s not as unreasonable as you made it out to be.”
You snap your hands down from your face, eyes locking onto his— he doesn’t look repulsed or uncomfortable as you had originally expected. He looks inexplicably open to the topic.
“I’ve got somethin’ you need, somethin’ that can fix it, love.” He states, shrugging his shoulders, his voice going almost sultry, “An’ yknow what I said, hm?”
At your silence— because you’re too stunned to even speak— he finishes the sentence for you, “Said I’d do anything for ya.”
Oh, is this quickly snowballing.
“Harry!” You shake your head, it feeling so wrong to be talking about this with him.
He abandons his drink on the small side table beside the couch, standing up and breaching the distance between you.
“Jus’ say the words, and then im yours.” He lowly whispers, and this is about to make you pass out. You’re clenching around nothing in your underwear, and the proposition is so tempting.
“We shouldn’t though. It’s not your responsibility to… satiate me.” You gulp out, nervous, yet body flaming with heat.
“Y/N, best friends help each other out… tha’s all it has to be, jus’ me making y’feel better.” he says, hand coming to run down your upper arm. And the second you started talking about this, his cock has been twitching where it’s confined his jeans.
“You can make all the decisions, all the calls, m’kay?” The statement was reassuring.
You lean into his touch, caving without anymore of a fight, “Okay… alright. Just… tell me if you change your mind. Please?”
His lips curl into a satisfied smile, feeling his hand get taken by yours. It’s much to risky to be fucking around with your best friend on the families patio, so you lead him down the steps into the dark, open backyard.
They have a pier, that’s lit with small solar lights, and that’s the first place you can that is reasonable enough to go. You tug him along the wooden decking it has, feet drumming against it.
Against a tree was too dark, and you at least want to see his cock if you’re getting the opportunity to touch it.
“On the pier, hey? That desperate.” He teases, and you push him with your free hand into one of its big wooden pillars.
“I want your cock down my throat, how’s that for desperate?” You scoff, pulling a laugh of pure shock from his own lips.
“I’m serious, H.” You look at him, stone cold expression. You are so riled up and ready to touch him that you need immediate confirmation this is something he wants.
“Go on, said you wanted it.”
Before you sink down onto your knees, you question him further, “you want this, though?”
A smile spreads over his mouth, “baby, you’re gonna be able to feel just how much i want this when you get down there. I was bricked the second you said you were horny.”
That was all you needed, dropping to the ground on your knees— now with his consent, your filter completely disappeared.
“Fuck me, Harry. I don’t think you understand how sexy you are.” Hands immediately coming up to squeeze the muscle of his thighs.
He hums a noise as he looks down at you on your knees, “Never thought legs would do it for you, but here we are.”
“Only thing i could think about is digging my nails into your thighs…”
You drag your hands back up to where the buckle of his belt laid, grabbing at it and undoing it. Slipping it out of the loops in his pants in a swift movement.
Leaning forward, you lift the hem of his black shirt, pressing your mouth against his happy trail.
You’re a slut for that little teasing patch of hair that dips below his low jeans. It causes you to whine out, a wordless sound of appreciation as you peck kisses over it.
The button and zipper quickly got undone by your nimble hands, and you finally brush over the prominent bulge that’s perked up in his boxers.
A realisation that you’re about to see your best friends dick for the first time kind of hits you, causing you to roll your lips between your teeth.
His suddenly strained voice comes from above you, “fuck, Y/N, don’t get shy with me. Y’can take me out.”
He’s almost ready to beg, even though this is all technically for you. But he didn’t anticipate how sensitive he would be when it’s a special girls hands running over his bulge.
However that’s exactly how it is, he’s already biting his lip as you cup him through his briefs, head tilted backwards with a sudden shared need.
You draw his jeans further down, “patience, im just enjoying you, pretty boy.”
The doting nickname earns a small groan from his lips, paired with the fact you’re now mouthing at his inner thighs. They’re warm and firm, dusted with dark hairs. You suck the most inner and upper part of his thigh into your mouth, causing him to grunt out.
You busy yourself with that particular part of his skin for a moment, rubbing the backs of your hands around the flesh of his ass. Still unfortunately covered by his briefs.
“So fuckin’ good to me, H.” You muttered into his soft skin, dragging your nose over to kiss the fabric covering his hard cock.
It makes him twitch, “letting me do this… and touch you where I want.”
You sound so out of it, replacing your mouth with your hand momentarily so you can go back to kissing his thighs, teeth impulsively barring over them. He shudders at the sensation.
After a bit more teasing, you finally start to pull the waistband of his black calvins down.
When his cock is fully out, you moan. You straight out moan at the sight of it. It’s glistening tip is a flushed red, beading out a sliver of precum for you, and it was safe to say he’s well equipped.
The two of you curse in sync as you hold him in your hand, feeling the weight as you stroke gently.
“Christ, tha’s good.” He curses out, hips stuttering forward slightly. You take a moment to look up at his face.
His cheeks have gone a slight red, and his lips are shiny from his teeth and tongue constantly running over them. Not to mention the way his lidded eyes are gazing down at you.
You hold eye contact as you lean in to lick over his tip in one solid stroke, watching his face twist in pleasure.
It makes your core drip. Seeing his cock, tasting it, watching him react to your touch. It fuels you to take his tip into your mouth, giving a gentle suck.
Your fingers take refugee digging into his thighs, and you are already loosing you mind with him between your lips. Somehow, you’re almost convinced you could come just from sucking on his dick.
Your self control is completely shattered now, you draw back and spit over his length, listening to him groan out as he watches the action.
“Drool on me, darling.” He says, the gentle demand makes you eager to impress him. You liked the idea of him telling you what to do… maybe even forcing you.
Fuck, you are sick and twisted, you scoffed internally at your self. Yet proceeding to gather your saliva and let it dribble down onto him.
“Thank you, thank you…” you murmur against him, and he twitches at your still airy voice. He would kill to know just how wet you were between your legs.
It was such a sight for you though, seeing him start to get slicked up with your own spit. Your mouth reconnected with him, sliding further down, hand coming up to massage his balls.
You’re whining around him now, starting to move in a sort of rhythm over his cock. You can’t help it, you were becoming frantic at him filling your throat.
The vibration of your mouth sends his hand flying into your hair, drawing a cuss from his lips, “fuck, Y/N…”
You get his cock as far as you can into your mouth without gagging— you’ll leave that for a little later— stroking the remainder. There’s something about the way he takes up the space between your lips, the feeling of his thick cock atop your tongue.
You glance up at him, fingertips teasing the inner parts of his thigh. Just as you look up, you give a harsh suck, hollowing out your mouth and lathing your tongue on the underside of him. Feeling the vein that runs along him.
His head almost bangs back against the wooden beam he’s leaning on, you feel the slight stutter of his hips.
A moan reverberated around you, filling your ears pleasingly. You draw back for a breathe, “you taste so good.”
His hand curls in your hair, panting out, “You’re such a needy girl…”
“Like that?” He asks at the whimper that come from you, “like being told that I see how desperate y’becoming?”
You nod immediately, “please…”
At your way of asking for more dirty talk he smiles, “becoming my little slut? Warming my cock with your mouth just because you’re so horny for it.”
When you don’t reply with words, and only a senseless moan, he taps your mouth with his fingers gently.
“Show me, baby.”
You part your lips almost instantly at his command, jutting your wet tongue out, ready to take him back into your mouth.
He guides his cock back between your lips, and that’s about as far as he gets before you have to take over from him again. All he can register is how hot and warm you’re mouth is as it wraps around him again.
You start to bob your head, taking him all the way down your throat with a slight gag. You’re whining without warrant now, all over his spit slicked cock.
It’s paired with his own moans of pleasure and words of praise as you suddenly draw back, flicking over his wet tip with your tongue, teasing it and making him grunt.
Your soul existence quickly slips to being just about his cock and hearing his noises. Being able to look up at him and see the sweat beginning to sheen over his forehead, and the mess of his soft hair.
His eyes are squeezed shut, and he has to forcibly open them every so often to see you. A reality check for himself that down on her knees, is his best friend. Drooling all over his prick with a insatiable need.
“Good fuckin’ girl.” He states as you take him all the way down your throat again.
“Taking me like the slut y’are. Might ‘ave to fuck you like one later, how’s that sound?” His mouth has gone loose now, brain muddled with only thoughts of you in it.
You suck and nod over him, brain rioting with a yes at his question.
“Probably so wet, so warm.” He mutters in half thought, and the idea of him even thinking of you like that makes you clench multiple times in your panties.
You roll you hips against nothing which he is grateful he caught with his half lidded eyes. The look of sheer desperation that crossed your face.
Moving faster, you starting taking his cock at a pace that immediately made his hand coil tighter in your hair.
“Fuck… im gon’ come faster than I’d like if y’keep— shit— doing that.” He moans, and you draw back quickly.
“Need to taste it… please, Harry.” You beg, forcing your throat back down around him once you’d got a breathe.
You gagged around him in full this time, earning his hips bucking against you.
Strings of dirty talk and cusses were flying out of his mouth, like a litany being repeated over and over. He kept praising you.
“That warm mouth…fuck… fucking me so good baby. Want to keep y’down there for hours, like m’personal little cockslut.”
Your nails dug into the backs of his meaty thighs, making you moan around him. Spit was covering your chin as you moved hastily over his hard prick.
“Like that idea?” He asked gruffly, “making you drool all over me like this until I’m empty, an’ y’ve come in y’panties to the point you’re dripping.”
You feverishly bob your head, sucking hard against him. If his bucking hips and loose mouth are any indicator, he’s getting close.
A few more minutes of your mouth, and he’s swearing, “im gonna come, dove— fuck— where do y’want it?”
Trying not to stop to long, looking up at his flushed face and blown out eyes, you lowly plead, “on my tongue, please…”
“Good slut, good fucking girl!” He slurs out.
You draw back to his tip, eager to taste him properly. You spit messily over his pulsing red head, kitten licking over it while your hand fucks the rest of his length at a fast pace.
It has him a wreck, and before he know it, he’s moaning out so loud he’s almost scared he woke someone in the house up.
“Fuck! I’m going to come, baby, im gonna come!”
You watch in completely infatuation as his eyes screw shut and his mouth drops into a gasp for air. You feel his hips stutter, and his cock pulse and twitch as it releases onto your awaiting tongue.
He tastes so good. You feel ashamed for even liking it that much, but as it spurts out his tip and drips onto your lower lip, your insane over it.
You rub it in with his tip, coating it over your tongue, and he pants as he opens his eyes to watch you.
It’s a sight etched into his mind forevermore. The fact his come is painted all over your tongue right now.
“Swallow it, pretty girl, let me watch.” He exhaustedly instructs you, voice raspy and deep in his post orgasm haze.
You do as told, and realising some has spilt even onto the corner of his thigh now that you’ve let him go.
Not letting it go to waste, you clean it off with a lick of your still eager mouth. Gently kissing over the spot as well.
“Taste so good, H.” You whisper against him, moving over to kiss his tip a final time.
“Thank you, again. For letting me do that…” You almost feel more satisfied than you would have if you had gotten to come as well.
“Made me feel amazing, baby.”
Or so you thought, because once he raised the point again… “If you want, since I can only imagine how desperate your little cunt is, I can return the favour somehow?”
And it was impossible to say no when he looked like that, boxers still half down his beautiful legs and face flushed that sexy shade of red.
You were in for a night, that was for sure. So much for an early morning.
———
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babymtal · 1 year
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könig x afab!gn!reader smut
the voices made me do this. it's purely self indulgent nonsense.
↳ warnings: 18+ content, DNI IF MINOR i'll take ur liver, porn w/o plot, reader calls König Colonel once, wrote this with huband!König in mind, oral r!receiving, p in v, unsafe sex (pls use protection), size kink central tbh, König got a fat dick obv duhhh, major dirty talk, praise kink, mating press, unedited, i think u get the point!
thanks for reading <3 lols
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You can't exactly recall what led you into this position, face smothered into the plush comforter as he fondled your naked body softly from behind.
König is a whore, that much you do know. Was it the way he carried himself, letting his giant everything tower over everyone shamelessly in any room he was in? Maybe it was the way he just merely walked like his dick was weighing heavy between his legs with every step.
You didn't have much time to dwell on the thought, mind reeling back to reality at the sound of his breathy voice. "Look at you, ya messy lil' thing." he cooed mockingly, slipping his middle finger past your entrance and leaning back, relishing in the sight of your hot heat swallowing his digit up greedily. His finger continued slowly pumping in and out of you, the drag of his single finger alone enough to make you drool as your cunt soaked his hand. "Oh, yeah..." he whispered as he reached his thumb down to teasingly rub the bundle of nerves that shot sparks of pleasure through your spine.
"Gotsa taste ya, engel." His hands manhandled you easily, flipping you over and quickly spreading your legs, pushing them to your chest.
You nearly passed out at the look in his eyes as he quickly ducked down, lifting his mask slightly to situate his mouth over your sloppy heat. He let the makeshift T-shirt mask fall back against your body, shielding your view as it lay on your lower stomach.
His eyes rolled back, vibrations shooting through you as he moaned whorishly against your clit. He paused his devouring every once in a while to give a shake of his head against your pussy, rubbing his nose messily over your puffy clit as his chest rumbled with relief. His mouth made quick work of you, licking and sucking wherever his heart content. His piercing gaze never left yours as he continued to messily lap at your cunt.
Whines and pants left your lips at the pleasure, toes curling as your chest began to rise rapidly. His big hands wandered over your body as his eyes fluttering closed, lost in the taste of you. His tongue circling your clit juuust right had you tensing all over, mind blanking as you came against his mouth with a cry from your parted lips.
All you heard was muffled moaning as König lapped up the juices you were leaking. He pulled back after a few moments, the air feeling thick as he situated himself with his huge thighs caging your hips. He leaned over, his giant build deemed menacing as he towered over you. His heavy hand reached down, unzipping his cargo pants. "Lil pussy gunna take me real nice, ja?" He slurred, eyes dancing over your naked body hungrily. His eyelids were drooped, gaze swallowing every exposed inch of skin his eyes could reach as he palmed his thick bulge through his boxers.
He shimmied his pants and briefs down, fat cock bobbing as it was released from it's confines. The sight alone had your mind hazing over, reaching out and pushing the shaft down softly until it met the parting of your wet folds.
"A-ah, fuck." he sighed, instinctively rocking his hips forward at your actions. Your bottom lip was pulled under your teeth as the head of his cock knocked against your pulsing clit. A sigh slipped from his lips, whimper catching in his throat as he continued to rub his heavy dick through your folds, effectively soaking the underside of his shaft in the process.
"Oh mein-" he paused, a sharp hiss sounding from him when the tip nudged against your clit again. "Tell me ya want it, engel." He demanded, halting his movements to position the head of himself at your entrance.
"Want it so bad, Colonel, please?" you asked sweetly, voice dripping with honey as his mind lurched at the sound of your words. You gave into him so easily, the thought alone making him whine softly. One of his hands removed themselves from your hips, reaching up to cup the side of your face lovingly. He used the other hand to lift his mask a bit from his face, a giant glob of spit dropping from his mouth and down onto the place your sexes met.
"You ask so nicely, süßer, how could I say no?" He rhetorically asked, dropping his mask and occupying his fingers with your swollen nub as he pushed his hips forward softly, the tip nudging slightly into your entrance as it spread his saliva.
The intrusion had you quick to reach out and grab ahold of his arm, a small whine passing your lips. Your fingers wrapped around the wrist of the hand that was cradling your face, maneuvering his fingers until two were wrapped in your mouth, tongue twirling around the digits desperately.
His muffled whimpers grew as he rocked his thick dick back and forth, inching it slowly into your tight heat. Your walls clamped down, muscles tensing as the overwhelming feeling of being so full had taken over your senses.
"C'mon, liebling, I know you can take it. Do it for me?" His voice shook slightly as he rubbed at your clit a little more precisely. His action rewarded him with the feeling of you fluttering around his cock, giving him further access as he moaned.
"I know, i know. Dick's big but you can take it." He cooed down at you, rocking his hips forward a bit harder when your soft tongue flicked over his fingers. His length slipped in, his every vein pulsing against your slick heat before he bottomed out. The feeling of him being so deep knocked the air from your lungs as you began to drool a bit on his fingers, whines and moans muffled.
"See?" He said, nodding down at the spot you two met before teasing, "knew ya had it in ya." He gave little to no time for you to situate yourself before his hips retreated from yours, every inch of him disappearing from your tight grip until just the tip was left. He took a deep, shaky breath before snapping his hips forward suddenly.
He repeated the action a few times, eyes never leaving the sight of your weeping pussy engulfing his giant cock whole.
"Oh gott, ya milking me so good, engel." He praised, a ring of your juices beginning to form at the base of his shaft. "Jus' like that, keep takin' it for me." He slurred, fingers never stopping their assault on your abused clit as he slammed himself into your cunt repeatedly.
You felt like you were on fire, skin feeling sticky with sweat as he continued to pound into you. Your whines increased, the feeling of him violating all your senses continuing to cloud all around you. Your mind was focused on the pleasure he was delivering you, blabbering pathetic thank yous around the pads of his fingers as your legs trembled.
"Ah, mein lieb so polite when takin my cock, huh?" His voice had the coil in you tightening, walls squeezing the life out of his fat cock as he drove his hips deeper in you. The head of his dick was rubbing so perfectly against your gummy walls.
"L-listen, engel." He commanded a few times, desperately trying to pierce through your haze and direct your attention to the sounds of his thick girth slipping in and out of your sloppy cunt. The squelching noise had your entire body flushing, heat engulfing you as your toes curled.
"O-oh ficken, give me it, c'mon." He growling, whimpers tumbling from him as he caged you in his arms, desperate for your release. He reached around your legs, trapping your knees to his side as his hands traveled to your ass. He gripped the plush flesh in his large hands tightly as he raised your hips in perfect time to meet his brutal thrusts.
Your cries quickly enveloped the room as your hand hurriedly reached down to paw at your bundle of nerves.
"A-ah, gott damn. I get a show too?" He mused, a smile hidden behind his dark mask as he moaned, his pounding refusing to seize as he watched you play with yourself. His hips stuttered, a long breathy whine escaping his throat when he swore he could feel you gush around his cock.
"Cum on me, yeah? Wanna feel ya cum s'bad, engel, fuck."
Your body shook pathetically under his as your orgasm tumbled through you. Your iron grip on his arm tightened as your walls fluttered around him. His whines and moans began to pitch an octave higher as he sloppily thrust into your cunt, cum shooting into you.
The air around you stilled, the pulse of his throbbing cock in your dripping heat in sync with your own throbbing as your breaths settled.
"You're a fuckin' whore, König." you panted out, a loving smile on your lips as you both chuckled at the comment.
"Ja, whatever." He said, pulling out softly before rubbing his fingers through your sloppy folds, spreading the mixture of your combined cum all over your sticky cunt.
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kuppikahvia · 2 months
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they needed a so called sanity check
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skialdi · 1 month
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✨ these dorks ✨
Drawn with my lovely friend @every-lemon in mind
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cacaocheri · 8 months
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this was supposed to be one drawing!! ONE DRAWING!!!!!!!!! but every time i draw them i can't stop i need to keep going
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samglyph · 4 months
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Ghost Hunter Au Part 1/2
Next
This is my entry for the Malevolent “write in your style event”, @malevolent-monthly!
I wasn’t initially planning on participating since this is a writing event and not an illustration one, but the prompt immediately inspired me so I got the go ahead to make a little comic! Part two out soon.
ID in Alt text provided by @shadow0haven
If you like what I do and want to see more, consider donating to my ko-fi!
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carmyboobear · 3 months
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carmy confessing to reader ❤️
YESSSS okay there are so many ways this could go. In my professional opinion I think Carmy would be SO nervous, even if he thinks you like him back. Because that’s just the sort of person he is. He’d probably just accidentally let it slip one day.
“You don’t have to be so damn cute about everything,” he says, mostly to himself, but when the words slip out and he sees your expression, he knows he can’t take it back.
“What?” You say, because that’s all you can think to say to that. Carmy’s standing there, the tips of his ears slowly turning pink.
“Uh.” His eyes close, eyebrows pinching as he processes what just happened. “So, uh…I didn’t think I said that out loud. But, ah…” He runs a hand through his hair. “I…I guess I just did.”
“Carmy, I…” You hold back a laugh. That would be too mean, but you can’t help your smile. “What is this? What’re you saying?”
He’s silent for a while. His mouth opens so many times as if he’s going to speak, but then it closes. He turns and steps in place, stress knitted into every expression and movement. You can’t help but feel a little bad for him.
“Okay, I—look. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go,” he starts, almost muttering to himself, “but here’s the thing. I, uh…I like you. A lot.” He laughs breathily, an exasperated thing. “And I didn’t mean to let it slip—“
“Carmy,” you try, but for once he can’t stop talking.
“And I, I know you don’t give a shit about me like that. It’s fine,” he says quickly, like he’s trying to slap a bandaid over a wound. “You’re too good for me. You are. So just forget I ever said anything, okay? We can go back to just being friends, just being, normal—“
“Carmen!” You say sharply, because he’s not stopping, and he stops. “Slow down. So let me get this straight—you like me. And not just like a friend.”
“…Yeah,” he says after a beat. His cheeks are flushed. “Yeah, I really do.”
“Okay,” you say. “So what’s the problem?”
“Huh?”
“Because I don’t see a problem here.” You’re standing closer to him now. You can smell his musk, cigarettes, and his faded cologne. “Do you?”
“Uh…” His eyes flutter shut as you lean in closer to him. “No, I suppose I don’t,” he says lowly, and he presses his smiling lips against yours.
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softmangoes · 10 months
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night visits | brahms heelshire x reader
18+ only
summary: you've been having trouble sleeping a month after you started working at the heelshire manor. it's time to figure out why.
includes: fem domme! reader, face sitting, teasing, a very subby and needy brahms
_
You felt it again. The hands. In the dream, they roamed over your body, tracing the curve of your shoulder, gliding over the smooth expanse of your abdomen, slowing only once they came to your inner thighs. You shuddered as icy fingers crept closer to the warmth there as if they wanted to gently pry you apart, make you pliable. What would happen, you wondered, if you were to spread your legs?
Before you could get an answer, your eyes snapped open to the emptiness of your room - which was quiet save for the usual rustling within the walls. In your groggy stupor, you realize that your blanket had been cast aside, leaving your legs bare to the cold winter air. Was the heater acting up again? You wondered, slightly annoyed. Sooner or later, you'd have to ask Malcom to find a way to get it checked.
But for now, you brought the covers over yourself and fell back asleep.
The dreams had started at the end of your first month at the manor. The Heelshires had just left for their vacation, telling you that they would be back soon once they had enough of the coastal air. By that time, you had just started to get used to the strange routine they had set for you, so your days would be spent lounging on the divan with a book in your hands as the sound of a piano floated from the record player across the room.
But on that first night, you could have sworn you felt someone touching your hair. It started out as a gentle prod, a delicate brush over the stray strands that had stuck to your cheek that soon turned into what felt like someone slowing running their fingers through your hair.
In the morning, you simply dismissed it as a dream. You were alone in the house, after all. Still, you squinted at yourself as you brushed your locks in front of the mirror.
It's an old house, you told yourself. Strange things happened all the time in old houses.
You looked at the doll sitting on the chair across the room. And this house was certainly no stranger to the unusual.
"Maybe it's sleep paralysis," your friend said, her voice crackly over the bad reception. "I used to get it all the time in college. I'd feel breathing on my neck and things trying to grab me."
Your eyebrows knitted together in disbelief. "You think so? I guess it makes sense - it's a little creepy being along without the old folks around," you said, tapping the spatula against your mouth. Malcom was due to stop by at any time with the weekly delivery of groceries and you still had to plan for dinner. "Well, what do I do, then?"
"You try to open your eyes," she said. "Or move your feet. It's your body that's asleep, so shifting yourself should wake you up."
Later that night, you kiss the doll to end your daily ritual.
"Good night, Brahms," you murmured, wrapping the blanket around him. "You better not be up to any trouble."
Maybe you were going crazy. Maybe it was sleep paralysis. Maybe it was all because you hadn't slept well in a while.
Whatever it was, sleep found you nestled in your blanket and took you easily.
Sometime, somewhere amid the realm that separated consciousness and slumber, you felt a hand slip between your thighs.
You stirred at the sensation of a palm sliding over your vulva and what felt like a thumb pressing against your clit.
Something strange was happening.
You opened your eyes slightly and saw the shape of a man outlined in the moonlight.
It's a dream, you thought, shutting your eyes. It's only a dream.
After a minute, the hand removed itself from your shorts and you heard a faint creaking and then the familiar rustling within the walls.
In the morning, you slid your hand under your panties and found yourself sticky with wetness.
"I don't know what's going on," you lamented, leaning back against the pillow. "For fuck's sake."
Your thoughts wandered to the man from your dream. His broad shoulders. The curls in his hair. His large hand grasping you, his cool fingertips pressing against your seam.
You had no idea if what you were going through was just a dream, but perhaps it could be your fantasy.
Slowly, your fingers moved through the slick and your core embered as you made gentle circles around your clit.
Perhaps moving for this job had been stressing you. Perhaps you weren't prepared for how weird this position turned out to be. Perhaps you were just in need of some sort of release.
"Fuck," you gasped as your hips bucked against your fingers. Your other hand fisted the sheets as your climax shuddered through you, sending little shocks from your clit to your thighs.
Satisfied, you rolled over and sighed, chest heaving from the exertion. Your eyes fell to a crack in the wall. In the back of your mind, you wondered whether or not you were truly alone.
Curious, you slipped your shorts back on and walked to the wall. You pressed your ear against the old plaster and heard the familiar creak of wood along with an exhalation that sounded a lot like breathing.
Smiling, you decided that you were going to try something new that night.
After you capped off your daily routine of taking care of the doll, you brought the covers over your chest and closed your eyes.
Instead of drifting off to sleep, you waited.
After a while, you heard a rustling sound come from near the dresser across the room and the creak of footsteps padding against the wooden floor.
There was a man in your room.
Fear would have been the expected emotion to come over you in such a situation, but you could only feel the static of anticipation dance across your skin.
His breathing was soft, as if muffled by something. Within just a few moments, you felt goosebumps prickle your arms as your blanket was moved aside, exposing you to the cool air.
You felt a weight shift the bed. He was trying to come closer to you - perhaps he was testing how bold he could be. Fingers tentatively slid beneath your shirt, feeling the expanse of your abdomen before settling to cup your bare breast.
You fought against an inhale at his touch and instead, you wrapped a hand around his wrist and opened your eyes to find yourself face to face with a porcelain mask.
Surprised, his eyes went wide and he let out a muffled yelp. You thought he would have fallen back to rush to whatever hole he had crawled out if you hadn't tightened your grip on his wrist and pulled him closer.
"More," you demanded. "I want you to touch me more."
You watched as his eyes flicked from your hand to your face as if nervous. A gulp resounded from his mask as he nodded quickly, squeezing your breast as you worked to unbutton your shirt.
"There," you said, the sides of your silk shirt draped haphazardly over your chest. "You like what you see?"
As if in reply to you, he moved closer to you. He was tall and strongly built, the fibers of his work shirt clinging to lean muscle. You figured that he could easily overpower you.
Maybe he would, if you told him to.
"Good boy," you said, shivering at his thumb grazing your nipple.
So this...must have been Brahms. The real Brahms. Somehow, you couldn't bring yourself to feel shocked. All you could feel was the hunger for him to lay his hands on you.
"Can I touch you?" You asked, looking at the soft curls that fell over his mask.
He paused before giving you another nod. You raised your hand and ran your fingers through his unruly curls, causing him to pant.
"Mmm," he rumbled, his eyes rolling back at the pleasure of your touch.
"You poor thing," you cooed, dragging your fingernails down the length of his nape. "How long have you been wanting this?"
With a swift motion, you wrapped your legs around him and flipped him onto his back. He gasped in surprise, his hands holding your thighs to steady him.
"How long, Brahms?" You pressed, raking a hand across his chest, eliciting another delicious groan from him. "Tell me."
"Ev-every night," he croaked, his voice hoarse with underuse. "Aft...after the first month."
With your palms pressed against his chest, you lowered yourself so that your face hovered just above his. His eyes, wild with shock, scanned you nervously.
"Every night," you said slowly, giving weight to each word. "I tucked you into bed. And for a month, you kept me from having a good night's sleep."
You moved to the shell of his left ear and whispered, "I'm going to take back everything you took from me. Do you understand?"
He nodded, this time even more quickly.
"Please," he said quietly, his eyes squeezed shut.
"First things first," you said, tucking your fingers underneath the edge of his mask. "I want to see more of you."
His hand curled around your wrist as he shook his head.
"Bad," he said, almost panicked. "Very bad."
"Don't you want to be good for me?" You teased, sliding a thumb across his smooth porcelain cheek. "A good little boy - just for me?"
"Mm," he said, his voice high with excitement. "Good," he continued, hooking his thumbs beneath his mask to lift it from his face. "Yes, good."
Malcom had told you that years ago, that there was a fire at the Heelshire house.
You saw the flames in the rippled scar tissue that was spread across the right half of Brahms' face.
"Bad?" He shook beneath you, eyes welling with tears. "I look...bad?"
"No," you said, cupping his scarred cheek. The silvery skin was smooth. Even with the burn, he was handsome. The soft curls. His bright eyes. The strong jawline. You brushed your mouth against his, feeling his warm breath on your face. "You've been a very good boy."
At your praise, he crushed his lips to yours - the action hungry and desperate as his wet tongue probed your mouth.
"Been," he panted in between breaths, bunching his hand in your hair. "I've been wanting to taste you."
You rocked your hips against his groin, causing him to moan against your mouth.
"Well?" You said, sinking your teeth at the hollow of his neck. "What do you think?"
"More," he gasped, his hands moving to the waistband of your shorts. "I want, ah, I want more of you."
Quickly, you slipped your shorts and underwear, tossing it aside.
Once you finally discarded your shirt, he marveled at the sight of your naked form.
"Please," he begged, his fingers pressing into your hips. His eyes were glazed with desire. "I want to...taste you."
Not wanting to deny him, you lifted yourself so that your thighs hovered above his face.
"Thank you," he said, his strong arms wrapping around you before pulling your pussy to his mouth.
You grabbed the headboard for stability as his cold tongue desperately lapped at your clit. When you tried to pull away, shuddering at the intensity of his hunger, Brahms only tightened his hold on you.
"I want," he stammered against your wetness. "I want you to, ah, say...say my name."
"Fuck," you grabbed his hair as your hips bucked against his mouth.
He groaned, his tongue exploring your slit. Thighs shaking, you had his name pressed against your teeth.
"Brahms," you whined, fucking yourself against his tongue. "I need more."
"Mm," he nodded as he traced small circles around your clit, your core tightening as the climax shuddered through you.
You moaned his name, thighs twitching with aftershocks until you leaned back and fell over beside him.
Next to you, he wiped at the slick on his face and licked it off his fingers, relishing the taste of you.
After a moment, he rolled to face you.
"The sounds you made," he murmured, hands roaming to your thighs. "So pretty," he continued, making the pads of his fingers wet with your honey. "Let me hear them."
You gasped as he slid two fingers into your warmth, feeling yourself stretch to accommodate him. It had been a long time since you had been touched like this, and all you could do was rock against him, your body still sensitive from the orgasm you had a few minutes earlier.
"Brahms," you clawed at his shirt, panting. "I want to make you feel good."
"Okay," he said softly, leaning back against the bed.
"Take off your shirt," you directed. Obediently, he slipped off his cardigan and top, revealing a lean chest covered in dark, curly hair.
"Cute," you said, straddling him, feeling the length of his excitement against your thigh.
"You think...I'm cute?" He blushed, raising a hand to cover his face.
It was so strange to think that he was almost frightening earlier this night, but so pliable for you now.
"So cute," you took his hand away from his face so you could kiss him deeply, your hips rocking slowly against his.
Against your mouth, he whimpered at the friction.
"It feels good," he groaned. The sound of it was almost guttural, like a growl. "More," he begged. "Please." He dug his fingers into your hips, grinding you against his cock.
"Brahms," you took his hands in yours. "Be a good boy and take the rest off."
With a nod, he slipped off his pants, revealing a rock-hard erection.
"Oh," you said, marveling at the size of it. "What a pretty thing." You teased, rubbing the tip along your seam. "Can you feel how wet I am for you?"
"Please," he panted, almost whining. "I'll be good. Just...let me take you."
You groaned as his head met your slick clit. "But you're being so good for me right now," you told him, bracing yourself against his chest as you teased him near your entrance.
"Please!" He cried, taking your hips and slamming you against his cock.
You gasped at the length of him, but you could barely brace yourself as he started bucking into you hard.
"I've been bad," he said, wrapping an arm around you to secure you to his body. His breath was hot against your chest as he bounced you.
"But I can be good for you," he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking on it gently as he worked at it with his tongue.
"Brahms," you moaned, grabbing his curls as he fucked you relentlessly.
"I want you," he licked. "I want you all to myself." His arms tightened around you.
You couldn't help but churn your hips against his. Fuck, it felt good.
You bit your lip as your core tightened. You were about to come.
"Kiss me," he growled, and you brought your mouth to his as the climax rocked through the both of you. Thighs shaking, you could feel him twitch inside of you.
With a sigh, he loosened his hold on you and you leaned against his chest.
"Was I...good?" He asked once his breathing began to slow, his voice quiet.
"Did I do good for you?"
You gave him a peck on the cheek - although from the look on his face, it seemed like he wanted more.
"It was amazing," you told him.
Eyes wet with tears, he wrapped his arms around you. "D-don't ever l-leave me," he said. "I don't...ever want you to leave me."
"Shush," you pressed a finger to his lips. "I don't know where you got that idea," you said, bringing your mouth to his neck. "I think I'd like to have you to myself for a long time."
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i wish to repair the fandom trauma we have with baths and stan. what if he had a rather… really nice one? :,)
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