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#HIS GRITTED TEETH IS ADORABLE
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sorry i gotta hold his hand sorry this is so cringe I don't want to like the pretty boys again but give me a break 🤧
bringing back the 2017 jil era
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wolves-in-the-world · 2 years
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y'know that classic, gorgeous scenario where eliot gets Some Sort Of Injury and can't easily shave/wash his hair/etc for a while, so hardison and parker convince him they can help and he melts into it and it's all very intricate rituals and intimacy and vulnerability?
#quinn hair is like eliot hair (soft; looks braidable) but FORBIDDEN #touch on pain of maiming etc [via @darkfinch, here]
thanks to these tags I'm now thinking of a quinn who gets The Nonspecific Hand And/Or Arm Injury and, upon figuring out how long it's going to take to heal and finding a suitable pause in the job, just nods to himself and asks eliot for help and both of them disappear into the bathroom, and the others figure eliot's just helping him get it clean—
—only they emerge half an hour later with eliot looking resigned and quinn with a buzzed head, funky scalp scars on display like it's not a big deal. sophie just stares at hardison like did you know they were going to do that? and hardison gives a helpless and slightly terrified shrug, and they carefully don't mention it. even if sophie has to stamp on nate's foot to keep him from commenting when he turns up.
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fallenneziah · 7 months
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Virgin!Reader who is shy and closed off about the idea of their first time. Who is hesitant when first getting with Ghost.
Virgin!Reader who gets in bed with their collosal boyfriend and is immediately a blushing mess when he touches them.
Virgin!Reader who has almost zero stamina and can cum on Ghost's fingers easily as he pumps his thick, calloused fingers deep inside. Purring sweet pet names in their ear and making them feel so good. Whimpering from the sensitivity.
Virgin!Reader who drools over Ghost's cock despite it's large size. Whimpering and asking if it'll hurt and if it'll fit as he lubes his cock.
"Only a little bit sweetheart. It'll feel really good after, I promise." He whispers against your ear, feeling so fucking hard from the idea of corruption you into his sweet little whore.
Virgin!Reader who clenches on Ghost's cock, mewling and letting out the sluttiest, unfiltered noises as Ghost starts to move, loving the feeling of just his cock sliding slowly in and out of you.
Ghost who is slow and gentle with you at first, peppering you in kisses and making you feel loved and adored, but the lewd sounds of your hole absolutely begging for more of him makes him feral.
Getting rough with you, fucking you hard, rubbing and stroking you, making you feel so fucking good. Hand clasped in your hair, calling you his sweet girl/boy. "There it is, fuck, you're so tight around me angel," he will curse, teeth grit against your shoulder or watching your back arch.
Virgin!Reader who absolutely eats it up. Cumming on his cock until their hips jolt and they have salty sweet tears rolling down their cheeks. Puffy lips and sore vocal chords from everything he's done to you.
Ghost who can feel the damp sheets under him from you absolutely leaking from the way he's treating you.
How you try to dirty talk back but your words are slurred and you can't make out a thought with his thick cock stretching you out ruthlessly.
Virgin!Reader whose told not to cum but can't stop from jerking, hips uneasy and organ abused and oversensitive from the amount of orgasms.
Virgin!Reader who passes out when Ghost gets really going, the pleasure too much for them before they find themselves back awake and being pumped full of seed.
Ghost who couldn't help himself, filling his baby to the brim with his nut, tainting your insides as his and only his. Claiming you, ruining you into his perfect partner.
Ghost who gives you the sweetest aftercare. Full of kisses, soft words of praise, caressing and holding you. Chances are he'll keep his cock buried in your warmth for a while longer, or maybe he'll pull out and watch his cum drip from your writhing entrance. If he does he'll be instantly hard and ready for more.
Seeing your fucked out look and how much rest you need just from one round of him playing rough up with your body.
Knowing that he's left you unable to ever seek pleasure from another man because your first experience was with him and he has never left anyone unsatisfied.
Knowing he's tainted you into someone who now thinks of his cock two times a day and whimpers when he has to leave for long times at work, knowing you'll miss his cock.
And that's how he likes it. Knowing you'll be missing him, wanting him and no one else. He's made you hungry, he's corrupted you and he couldn't be more proud.
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suguann · 2 months
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FUCK IT, I WANT YOU—JJK MEN. * ˚ ✦
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✎. jjk men who are infatuated with you. | wc. 2.4k+
tags. fem!reader, bsf sister, cockwarming, slightly rough sex, best friends to lovers, exhibitionism, breast f*cking, domestic nanami, pet names, praise, mild dark content, dubcon, stepcest, stuckage
featuring. gojo, higuruma, nanami, geto, sukuna
an. banner is from hare kon okawari | masterlist
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↬ GOJO
He shouldn’t even entertain the thought of wanting you—somewhere in the world, there’s a book of rules that says you shouldn’t develop a crush on your best friend’s little sister. 
It doesn’t stop him from letting you talk him into shopping (as if he’d ever tell you no) and watching you try on tiny, flowy sundresses that make his jaw ache, how he’s just on the side of too-weak for those low-scooped tops you’re always wearing whenever he’s at your house. 
At first, Gojo wonders if you do it on purpose—the bashful smiles and bumping shoulders if he’s close by—but you’re painfully shy for that to be the case. It’s why a smirk tugs at his mouth after leaving love bites across your chest when he finally gets you alone in his room so that he might see the adorable little face you make as you try to cover them up afterward. 
He has you perched in his lap on the bed with an arm wrapped around your waist to keep you rooted on his cock buried deep inside the hot-wet heat between your legs. His mouth sucks marks into your skin wherever he can reach, deep groans rumbling in his chest every time your pussy clenches down on him—a sweet reminder that he hasn’t let you move for a while.
“Toru, not there,” you squeak, fingers knotting in the hair at his nape to gently pull him away. “People will see.” 
But he doesn’t listen as he rolls a nipple between his fingers, mesmerized by the sight of it pebbling into a tight peak—your thighs shaking around him when he pinches too hard.
“So fucking pretty,” he growls, biting his lip as he finally looks up at you. “Just let me play with them a bit more, and then I’ll fuck you. I promise.”
A white lie, but he’s done and said worse, and this isn’t that. This is him savoring a victory he never knew he had until you fluttered those long lashes and asked for a kiss.
You’re gasping and writhing, unable to do anything except sit there while he overstimulates you with his mouth and fingers. When he finally rolls you over onto your back, you’ve already cum twice, but that doesn’t stop him, greedy hips churning against yours and stealing another.
He sucks a nipple into his mouth, loving how you quiver underneath him, your soft socks slipping where they try to rest around his waist. “You’re so sensitive, huh, baby?” he rasps, nosing the soft swell of your breast as he crowds you underneath him. 
You mewl out a broken version of his name, hot pants against his neck that make you sound so desperate—not really answering him as your nails bite into his shoulders—and he can’t get over the way you look right now, how you sound. He’ll never be able to go back to pretending that you’re Geto’s annoying little sister (as if he ever thought you were) as Gojo watches drool trail from the side of your mouth from how good he’s fucking you. 
“Do you know how filthy you look right now?” he grits between his teeth. “Been thinking about this for so long—fuck—can’t believe I finally get to have you.”
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↬ HIGURUMA
It’s an accident the first time it happens. 
You’re at the beach, playing with him in the water, when a wave hits you and washes your bikini top away. You squeal, and because he’s your best friend and has always looked out for you, he doesn’t realize right away he used his hands to shield your bare breasts from everyone else on the beach—eyes round when Higuruma does.
It’s innocent—his intent—yet alarm bells are ringing in his ears.
He expects you to shove him away—you don’t. Instead, you give him a sweet smile with a soft, muttered thank you and let him carry you back to the towels. 
He’s still reeling at how you fit perfectly in his palms, skin against skin in a way he’s only ever shamefully imagined alone with his fist around his dick. It has him shifting his trunks uncomfortably, and he wants—no, needs (a definite need) more.
Higuruma spreads you out on your towel under the canopy of the large beach umbrella, the shirt he gave you pushed up and held out of the way under your chin as you watch him. His shoulders block out anybody from really seeing how he’s teasing your nipples into his mouth—your fingers digging into the hair at his nape to keep him there. 
He never thought he’d get this far after years of watching you dance around the periphery of his life without ever really being his. How seeing you like this—whimpering his name under your breath, eyelashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks, and grinding onto his thigh pressed up between yours—only ever existed in a fantasy or two. 
There’s nothing to do but watch as the lines of an eight-year friendship crumble into the sand with your soft squeaks of more, and his low groans fuck, and he can’t bring himself to feel anything other than a small flame doused in kerosene. 
If this is the sacrifice for holding you and whispering sweet nothings into your sweat-slick skin, he’ll gladly burn.
He’d keep you like this forever if he could, and the way you look at him, pleading with your eyes, makes him think you’d let him if he asked (or maybe he wouldn’t have to).
He releases your nipple and smiles when your shirt falls from your teeth with a whine, your foot stomping against the towel in a way that’s too fucking cute.
“Why’d you stop?”
All the blood and heat in his body rush to his dick at how needy you sound—for him, all for him—and his breath fans across your spit-slick skin shakily, pent up and overflowing with nerves he’s held onto for as long as he can remember. “Sweetheart, you have to be quiet.”
You nod eagerly, your grip tightening in his hair to bring him back towards you. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be quiet. Just please don’t stop.”
Never. 
When your leg brushes the tent in his trunks, it feels like his eyes roll into the back of his head from the contact. He greedily takes your tight, sensitive peak back into his mouth again—hardly paying attention to the wanton moans you fail to suppress as you continue grinding onto his thigh.
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↬ NANAMI
Nanami stares at you more often than usual after you have his son—at how your chest fills out every top you wear, and your hips become the perfect place for his hands—a strange new obsession that develops overnight without a manual or an off switch.
One day, you’re his beautiful wife. The next, you’re his beautiful wife holding his baby, and suddenly, he’s seeing the world through a clear lens, and he can’t stop looking.
His hands are always on you just to curb the constant ache that never really fades, brushing hair out of your face, massaging your lower back, shamelessly letting them wander too close to the underside of your breasts whenever he can. Sometimes, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and sometimes it’s all he can think to do.
Some days, after a stressful work day, he’ll lay atop your chest and pepper kisses against whatever skin he can reach, wandering, eager hands getting their fill until he falls asleep. On other days, he stays up long enough—baby tucked away in his crib and the monitor softly humming on the coffee table—to peel your clothes out of the way to get the full picture.
“Just like that, darling,” he groans, watching where you’re kneeled between his legs, unable to take his eyes off the way his leaky tip peeks out from between your soft, bare breasts. 
You stick out your tongue to lick away the pearl of white drooling out of his slit, only to spit it back onto his cock to help aid your up and down movements. It has him throbbing at how messy it is, liquid-hot heat pooling in his stomach at how good it feels. He knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he’s torn on whether or not to stop you or let you keep going.
“How does it feel?” you peer up at him through long lashes like you don’t already know what you’re doing to him.
“‘Good, darling. So fucking good—fuck, keep going—pretty little wife on her knees for me,” he curses, hips shuddering when he thrusts up, watching his length disappear and reappear again and again.
The delicate smile that adorns your lips makes his heart flutter, and balls draw up to his body. “Yeah? You gonna cum, Kento?”
“I don’t—I, fuck, yes.” He’d much rather finish with his face buried in your tits, but he’s already too far gone to pull away, to shove you down onto the couch.
You hum softly. “I want you to cum on me. Please.”
That’s his final undoing, groaning at the thought of him marking those cute tits that take up his every spare thought, cumming unexpectedly in a rush of white-hot pleasure before he can stop it. His cock jerks until viscous streaks of white paint your chest, and it makes everything sticky and sloppy, sending a weak burst of liquid pleasure rushing up his spine before he slumps against the couch with a satisfied sigh. 
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↬ GETO
He loves it when you’re like this. Soft and pliant beneath him, eyelashes spiked with tears.
He doesn’t know where to look—can’t decide between the smattering of possessive marks littering the inside of your thighs or the ones that travel across your chest. 
A decision easily made for him when he presses the tip of his sensitive cock back into your fluttering cunt, unable to tear his eyes away from how your breasts bounce with every one of his harsh, desperate thrusts. His thumb smooths over a peaked nipple—bitten raw and pinched tight—and he curses under his breath at the feel of you clenching on him like a vice.
You tell him how good he feels under a hitched breath, and his chest tightens because he can’t remember the last time someone used an adjective like that to describe him. Good. It’s weird how such a simple word can make Geto’s head spin and make him feel like anything other than the man he is outside your bed.
He ducks his head down to suck another little bruise right above your nipple, the corners of his mouth curling slightly, knowing that he’ll be the only one that’ll know it exists. 
“Prettiest fucking girl I know,” he breathes harshly, already close. “I wish you could see how perfect you look.”
Geto slips his fingers between you, playing over the tiny, sensitive bud at the peak of your thighs.
“Oh.” A soft sigh.
“Maybe I should take a picture, huh? Would you let me? So I can look at you like this,” —he thrusts deep, making sure you’ll be able to feel him afterward— “all damn day, every fucking day.”
And like a tightrope snapping loose, you fall apart around him, practically choking his cock, and he fills up your cunt for the second time that night.
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↬ SUKUNA
You're cleaning the apartment you share with your step-brother until it's spotless because the guy you’ve kind of had a crush on since the start of the semester is coming over today to study, and the butterflies in your belly tell you today is the day he’s finally going to ask you out. 
What you don’t anticipate—between throwing away Sukuna’s collection of energy drinks on the coffee table and doing a load of laundry—is the possibility of getting stuck in the too-small dryer while reaching for a sock or that your brother would be the one to find you bent over with your shorts riding up your legs.
You suppress a groan at the sound of Sukuna's patronizing voice behind you. "What do we have here?"
"Don't just stand there, idiot," you hiss. "Help me."
He chuckles in that mean, condescending way that always sets your teeth on edge. "You're really bossy for someone with their ass hanging out of a dryer. Maybe I should leave you here and wait for Mick—”
“His name’s Mitch—”
“—to find you."
"No!" you say almost too loudly, wincing as your voice echoes around the dryer. With a small sigh, your head hanging, you add, "Please help me."
"That's better." 
It's quiet for a moment, and you start fidgeting again to free yourself until you feel a pair of large hands palming your hips, and you can't stop the squeak that escapes the back of your throat—not expecting the terrible-hot-wrongness of it to feel so good.
A feeling stirs in your belly that you’d tucked away long ago, and only returning to under the safety of the baby blue twinkle string lights in your room—hand in your sleep shorts and teeth digging an imprint into the palm of your hand to hold back the name you only chant in your head.
“You’re s-supposed to be helping,” your voice wavers, dizzy with what’s transpiring in that cramped laundry room.
He huffs a soft laugh behind you, pressing a kiss to the base of your spine where your shirt rode up. “Give me a minute.”
It's embarrassing when you feel wetness pooling in the seat of your underwear, heat rushing from the roots of your hair and down to your toes when his hands travel over the swell of your ass in your tiny shorts. 
You're almost compelled to tell him you’ll get out on your own because it’s the right thing to do—to put a stop to something that shouldn’t happen except in cheap porn. Then his hand comes down against your backside, hard, and every single thought in your head scrambles like an egg on hot pavement.
You whimper, the force of his slap jolting you further into the dryer, sweaty hands scrambling against the metal walls to keep your face from crashing into it.
"Fuck, I've always wanted to do that,” he breathes before tugging the crotch of your shorts and panties out of the way, and you feel something wet and slick drip against your cunt. "Maybe I'll just keep you here for a bit. What do you say, sis?"
His thumb runs along your slit and presses inside you.
“Ah. W-wai—”
“Shh. Just—fuck, so fucking tight—just let me enjoy this pussy, huh?” And quieter, “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”
You shiver and swallow around the words threatening to escape: me, too.
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lovelyghst · 5 months
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simon riley with a virgin!gf would be such a sweet, softhearted bully. always making an effort to be so gentle with you, never pressuring you past a prolonged kiss or some touches between layers of fabric, only to turn around and relentlessly tease you in passing.
simon riley with a virgin!gf and his addiction to subtly dragging a hand up your thigh when you're in public, whispering sexual remarks in your ear to get you all hot and flustered at the worst of times.
simon riley with a virgin!gf thought the reason he worked you up so much and so often was to get you begging for it, but was proven terribly wrong when he finally broke through your reserve and even he couldn't believe the words that came so surely from his mouth.
"not yet, baby. wanna make sure you're ready for me when the time comes, otherwise you’ll end up hurtin’ yourself."
simon riley with a virgin!gf adores watching you touch yourself. whether it be from right by your side as he guides you along, or from the entrance to your bedroom as you missed his texts telling you he’d be home early. he just loves to see you struggling to finish, getting all frustrated and embarrassed when you can’t do it yourself, prompting him to reassure you that everything’s alright before he’s taking over.
simon riley with a virgin!gf allows you to use his thigh or abs to get off only when you really need it badly, which you'll need to be in tears to prove most often. it's cruel, maybe, but reticence is necessary.
simon riley with a virgin!gf will urge you on as you rub your clothed cunt against his flexed muscles, even grabbing your hips to help you finish when you lose energy and begin to slow your movements. laughs when he bounces his leg to make you lose balance and yelp, but pouts in sympathy when you whine 'cause he ruined your high.
simon riley with a virgin!gf never lets you use his crotch to get off, though, as he can't promise his own restraint after a certain amount of your whines. it's the only time the soldier feels grossly weak, and you could never seem to figure out why it’d be such a bad thing.
simon riley with a virgin!gf gives you his mouth at most, and that's only after weeks of your pining and pleading for the next step. he just had to taste you before he went mad, but nothing more. he adores your innocence far too much to take it away it so soon.
the first time simon riley eats you out is nothing short of a warm mess. he tries to take his time—and he did, bringing out every word of praise in his vocabulary as you gradually got more comfortable—but once he started with the real thing, he couldn't hold himself back.
his thick and hot tongue laps at your pussy as his eyes quickly turn dazed, big inked arms wrapped around your soft thighs to hold your sensitive frame down. you can't tell that he's just slightly grinding himself down on the bed since you're instantly entranced in watching him show you what you've been missing out on for so long.
you don't notice how severely his cock strains in his pants with your mind only able to focus on the knot in your stomach, and how pretty he looks with a slick-covered stubble and drunken smirk. he makes you come on his tongue once before the moment is quickly cut short, your blissful whimpers and raw taste driving him to mutter a sharp swear under his breath and abandon you for the restroom.
you're left on the bed alone, distraught and worried you'd done something wrong, completely unaware to the fact he's fisting his cock with gritted teeth and an unruly pace only a door away.
heavy breathing filling the space, his mind running on all the possibilities for how he could just take you right now, apologize for everything. christ, he should just give you what you want and his poor cock throbs at the prospect, but what kind of man would he be?
he bites his tongue, muffles his groans, and spills himself in his palm with clenched eyelids and fists. absolutely shameful, but bound to happen. you hear the sink run for a moment before he's returning without a single trace or reason for his disappearance. he reads the guilt on your face and soothes you with a kiss to the forehead.
"sorry for the wait, lovie. wasn't very fair of me to leave you like this, now, was it?" and you can only shake your head, tears spilling over.
and finally, simon riley with a virgin!gf who will spend the rest of his day making things up to you: resuming his services with a newfound patience, showing you all the best ways to touch yourself for when he's not there- or for when he is there, because as he reminds you often, he won't be able to take his sweet girl's virginity for a long, long time. for your own sake, of course <3
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sixosix · 6 months
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wanderer can fly; you cannot. he makes it his problem.
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“What? Giving up already?”
“Shut—” heaving, you barely have the energy to flip him off, “shut the fuck up. Fuck off.”
Wanderer chuckles, all low and mean, as if his entire purpose in life is to ridicule you. He continues ascending overhead, moving and looking like an angel, but the words that come out of his mouth are far from angelic. “Careful, now. I know you overestimate yourself, but I won’t save you if you continue to scale a mountain with one hand.”
“Stop agitating me on purpose then!” You nearly slip from the intensity of your yell, but thankfully, it isn’t your time yet.
“How can I? You’re cute when you’re mad.”
Grumbling, you focus back on the mountain. Cute when mad. He must think he’s goddamn adorable, then.
You’re starting to lose sight of dents or protruding surfaces to get a hold of, and the mountain is getting steeper. You curse under your breath. If only you had Geo or Dendro—that’d help a lot much more. Maybe even Anemo, but that would be admitting defeat to the man who’s currently watching you intently.
Wanderer scoffs when your breath hitches, the surface you’re holding onto crumbling. He descends until you’re eye level. “Idiot, I told you that it’d be safer if we didn’t climb this all the way.”
“I know my limit.” Maybe. You may or may not have gotten a little over-competitive and jumped a few times, but that shouldn’t be a problem.
“Not more than I do,” he says.
“Don’t say it like that, weirdo.” You appraise the mountain overhead and, with a sunken stomach, realize that he’s right. There’s still a long way to go, and it’s a long fall back.
“Damn,” you say. You turn to Wanderer and blink up at him with wide eyes, hoping he would take the hint without having to say it outright.
Wanderer sighs, holding out his arms. “Jump.”
“Are you serious?”
“I won’t let you fall—of course I’m fucking serious.”
You grit your teeth, wondering if it’s easier to humiliate yourself and jump into his arms or to let gravity do its work.
“Hey,” Wanderer says, gliding closer and hovering an arm behind your waist. “No stupid ideas. Just jump and hold onto me.”
It’s always unsettling when Wanderer is not acting all bratty, like you’re not quite sure if you should goad him back to being mean or watch him bristle when you point it out. It’s been happening too often recently. That must be saying something about him if his soft moments are scarier than his jabs.
Wordlessly, you reach out for his shoulder with one hand and hold back a yelp when the lack of balance causes you to slip. You hold on tight around his neck, eyes wide and heart jittery. Wanderer secures his arms, moving in one swift motion. Before you even know it, he has one arm on your back and the other under your knees.
“How convenient it must be to have a ride as your companion,” Wanderer mutters in amusement at your relieved face.
“Yeah. That’s why I keep you around,” you say as he glides upward, barely straining from your weight. He looks as unaffected as ever.
He looks as infuriatingly and devastatingly beautiful as ever.
“Ha,” his smile is all sharp, “and not because you have a little crush on me?”
“You follow me around because you do. Don’t get it twisted.”
He snorts, tipping on something a little more genuine. You wisely decide to stop ogling at his face and enjoy the view of the sky instead. The blue of his clothes and the shade of his eyes are much prettier, but you’d rather lose that than start squirming in his arms. Not when he’s carrying you bridal style and all.
Finally, he descends, hardly disturbing the grass with his grace. He sets you down, arms crossed, as you pat yourself off from dirt and stuff.
“Well?”
You eye him warily. “What do you want?”
“Some semblance of manners will do,” he says, then leans close as if he’s baring his face for you. He’s been less and less subtle recently, too.
Nonetheless, you find yourself smiling. The things he’d do just to get a kiss—it nearly makes you laugh out loud. But then he’d start getting all irritated like a cat, and you much prefer when he’s sweet like this. Sweet in his very Wanderer way, you mean.
You kiss him on the cheek. He puffs up like some proud peacock. He calls you adorable all the time, but he’s the one who’s acting like this. It’s no wonder you keep him around.
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konigsblog · 2 months
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pulling simon's hair...
although simon adores having dominance from time to time, he absolutely adores when he's between your soft thighs, his wet tongue against your sensitive clit with your fingers tangled and nestled in his blonde locks. blissful moans flow from your swollen lips as you grind back and forth, whimpering gently and quietly.
he enjoys having his hair pulled whilst he's fucking you roughly as well. tug and pull his hair, degrade and shame him — call him a filthy dog, whilst he ruts and huffs at your sweet scent, pawing at your soft breasts, the tightness of your gummy walls causing simon's eyes to roll backwards, his head thrown back as he grits his teeth, releasing a hot load deep inside your swollen folds, globs of his milky, sticky cum weeping from the head of his lengthy, veiny dick.
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shoyoist · 1 year
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── 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍'𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 : monkey d. luffy.
content: fem!reader. unprotected sεx, praise, implied virgin! luffy, inexperienced! reader, possessive behavior, a little manipulation at the beginning (reader to luffy). lots of cum. overstimulation. a mention of being used. confession at the end. note: my first one piece work! kinda nervous honestly v_v
— . 。˚ ♡ you're hellbent on making the straw hats' captain yours.
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thinking about how easy it is to just cry and sweet-talk your way into sitting on luffy's dick <3
he's already crushing on you to begin with. head over heels, almost. the moment he allowed you onto his ship, welcoming you into the crew so easily and ordering everyone to make you feel right at home — it had made his feelings obvious enough.
luffy has space for only two thoughts in that cute little head of his, and it just makes things easier for you to know that one of them is consisted of you. the other being to become the king of pirates, of course.
“how does it feel to be the captain's favourite?" zoro often remarks all sarcastic, and when you simply laugh and wave his comment away, luffy laughs right along with you. he's absolutely clueless.
to luffy, you look so innocent, and you've been so nice to him — you're just so sweet! helping him around, humouring all his jokes and stupid ideas, explaining things to him over and over with such patience when he just doesn't get it. and you even call him captain! you're just so lovely, and so pretty to look at on top of it<3
he trusts you so easily when you give him a pout, letting the tears glitter at your lashline as you ask him, “captain luffy, please?” you tell him you've never been touched like this before, that you need it, you need it so desperately — and you need it from him — to have his hands on you and to feel all full on him.
he agrees so easily, it's adorable. he's so giggly and giddy as he sits you on his lap up in his room at some nameless inn at the next island you stopped at. you'd fallen onto the rickety little couch backed up against the wall, too needy for eachother and too full of excitement to even make it to the bed.
he's so cute as he grits his teeth and groans, fingers digging into your hips as he slows the way you sink into his cock— unable to handle the way your warm, velvet walls wrap around him so well.
and once you're on his dick, it's even easier to get him addicted to having you on it.
“w—wait, wait wait wait—” his jaw hangs slack, allowing all his little gasps and whines and every little curse and word of praise that forms at his throat to freely pour out into your skin where he's latched his mouth onto.
he tries to kiss you, but he just can't focus on one thing enough when you feel so good around him, your thighs straddling his hips so well, your hands holding onto his shoulders so hard as you move up and down— so warm, so wet and so lovely, and suddenly not enough.
he needs more. he wants you to go faster. “more,” he whines, so good at telling you exactly what he wants. he's quite sure by now that you've done this before—and if you haven't, then you're damn good at it despite this being your first time— so he's unabashed. “more, faster. wanna cum.”
“mhm,” you sigh, giving him a heart-eyed look as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him sweetly and hugging him to you, giggling into the crook of his neck. “anything for my—ngh—my darling captain.”
at this point, he's in love with you.
he wraps his arms around you then, sliding his body lower in his seat, into a more comfortable position where he can set the pace himself. “careful,” he warns between clenched teeth when your hand slips from his shoulders.
letting you adjust, he grabs your waist, holding you tight in place — gives you a little “hang on, princess.” before he starts fucking up into you his own way.
it's slow at first, but you can feel the way the slap of his thighs against your ass gets harder with each thrust, how the slow, deep strokes get faster and shallower with each hit—and then he's got the tables turned on you, forcing you to grab at his nape, his hair, his arms, anything to retain your balance while he hits it as hard and deep as he likes.
“ah—ah, luffy!”
“captain luffy, princess.” he groans, voice barely there, grabbing your ass and giving it a squeeze, loving how pliable you are in his hands. his pace stutters every now and then, dick slipping out to smack at your clit before he's putting it back in with a groan.
and oh, you know he's likely never done this before, but god he's making you feel so good. he's so desperate, shamelessly using you like a toy to fuck into, eyes hazy and body tensing up with each thrust. “aaah, fuck, so good … so good, so goodsogoodsogood—”
and just like that, with one last thrust into you that goes in balls deep and throws stars into your eyes, he cums into you. he cums so hard.
hot, thick ropes of milky white fill you up and drool out of you, dripping onto luffy's thighs and staining the seat below, his cute little ah—ahh!’s of uncontrollable bliss drowning out the wet sounds your body makes as his cock gets milked all up by your messy cunt.
it's enough to make you cum along with him, your walls squeezing him so impossibly tight, fluttering warm and wet around his sensitive tip as he ruts into you, so sloppy now yet still insatiable.
he has all the stamina you knew he'd have and more, fucking you through your orgasm just the way you like. just the way you wanted him to.
sitting on luffy's dick is a task easy enough to do, but getting off proves to be difficult.
“fuuuuck,” he sighs, voice going just a bit pitchier than usual as he sinks into the seat, taking your hips in his hands and nudging you back and forth on his cock, using you to carry himself through his high. the way his base drags at your clit is electrifying, and you can't help but throw your head back and moan.
the post-orgasm high is delicious.
“hah, y’like that? mhm?” he smiles up at you, giddy and dazed. “felt so good, princess. you never done this before, huh?”
“mmm,” you mumble, slumping into him and feeling the way he drinks up your scent, not really confirming or denying his statement.
“hah,” he laughs, tightening his arms around you. “can only do it with me from now on though, mkay? you okay with that?”
after that fucking? hell yes. you're so happy, so full, so warm and so content right now, with his arms around you, his lips on your skin and his dick still throbbing inside you.
you'd known luffy would be good. it's why you'd worked your way to this moment in the first place — but you didn't think he'd be this fucking good.
he'd been a little shy and unsure of himself at first, but god, when he'd finally gotten the hang of it, when he'd finally snapped, he'd fucked you so good.
”heyy,” luffy taps your head gently. “you alright? can you hear me, hm?”
“mhm.” you respond, turning your head to rest your cheek on his shoulder, giving the lobe of his ear a little nibble and making him laugh. “i can hear you, captain.”
“asked you somethin'.” he kisses the side of your head and presses a palm to your back, rubbing the expanse of skin gently for you. oh, he's so in love. “only me, mkay?”
“mkay.” you agree, a giggle slipping from you when he gives you a dopey grin and wraps his arms tighter around you, pulling you right against his warm, sticky body and going right to sleep with you in his lap. the couch is old and creaky — but luffy makes a comfortable bed, you think. you can take it, for a night at least.
because after this, you think you might be in love with him, too. and either way, you definitely don't want to get off his dick just yet.
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papercorgiworld · 4 months
Text
The day after the dare
Mattheo Riddle an Theo Nott
After being dared to steal their clothes the previous night, it’s not that strange they bring you a similar visite.
Warning: piv, unprotected, oral sex
! Mattheo’s version is a bit longer and sweeter, while I wrote a bit of rougher Theo version.
Picture source: https://pin.it/4HBHs0yxy
Honestly I don’t know what to think about this, but some of you were curious to find out what happened next, so happy readings.
This is part two, read part one here: “I dare you to steal his clothes.”
Mattheo Riddle
You open the door of the shower stall and reach for your towel. You dap the water of your face and body, while a frown forms on your face. “Where-“ You mutter to yourself but are immediately interrupted. “Looking for these, love?” Your head turns towards a grinning Mattheo with his hand raised and your panties dangling on his finger. “Riddle!” He smirks and takes a few steps in your direction. “Better, daddy.” He slips your panties in his pocket. You bite your lip and shake your head. This was to be expected after what you did.
“Are you really this desperate for me, Riddle?” He snorts and stops only inches from you. “You’re desperate for me.” You smile playfully. “You sure?” You ask as you meet his lustful eyes with your teasing ones. You drop your towel and as soon as Mattheo hears it drop his eyes fall down. His breath hitches and he swallows, while loosening his tie. His eyes scan your body like he’s never seen a female before and his dick twitches in his pants. “I’ll have you calling me mommy in no time.” You mock referring to what he said last night. His eyes snap up to yours and he wants to close the last bit of space between you, but you stop him and push him back.
His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he tries to behave, but he can’t help but scan your body. He needs to touch you. “My panties please.” You ask with an innocent voice. Disappointment and confusion fill his eyes but you just tilt your head urging him to do as you ask. Reluctantly he takes your panties out of his pocket and you lift your leg a little. He gets the hint and drops to his knees slipping on your panties. His forehead rests against your belly as he pulls up your panties until they cover your beautiful pussy. The growing bulge in his pants starts to feel constrained and painfully hard. So close, but not allowed to touch you. Even worse, dressing you, covering what he so badly wanted to adore. This was inhumane torture.
Mattheo’s face when he’s dressing you instead of fucking you.
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“My bra please.” Was the only thing you say and Mattheo rolls his eyes, but gets up and reaches for it. You turn around and he slips on your bra, gently stealing a touch from your breasts. His breath is on your neck as he works to clasp your bra. Clearly, something he hadn’t done before. “Why are you making me do this? You want me and I want you. So let's just stop playing games and fuck.” Mattheo says through gritted teeth and you let out a laugh. “And they say romance is dead, I wonder why?” He huffs. “Who cares about romance? I know your cunt is soaking wet. You need my cock, princess. You’ve seen it, you know it will fill you nicely.” He presses your back against his chest and his hand lingers dangerously close to your pussy. You could feel his hard member through the fabric of his pants. You let your head slightly rest on his shoulder.
You knew that if he would touch you, you would be underneath him in no time. You had managed to escape him once and up until now you had been winning this round as well. Mattheo places soft kisses under your ear, covering your neck, near the bruise he had left yesterday. You groan, summoning every bit of self control. “You’re cute, Riddle, but you’re also trouble.” You want to push yourself free off his arms but he tightens his grip on you. “You can’t keep doing this, love, you can’t resist me forever.” With those words he lets go of you and walks out, leaving you in your lingerie. He was right and you knew it, he was driving you mad with desire.
You wanted him, if you saw him again you might just come undone on the spot, so your plan was to avoid him for the rest of the day, preferably the week. However, around midday you came to a rather annoying discovery. Mattheo stole your wand. Your sexual frustration pooled over to general frustration and before you knew it you were marching on the quidditch pitch. “Where is Riddle?” You bark. Enzo looks shocked and points towards the changing rooms. “He’s in there, but he’s in the-“ You’re too far gone to hear what Enzo says. You storm in and scan the room, when Mattheo appears from the showers. “We really need to stop meeting like this.” Mattheo says with a smug smile. “You stole my wand!” He licks his lip and tilts his head. “Maybe.”
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He takes a few steps towards you and you can’t help but take in the view. Damn, why did he have to be so fine? “Fuck it.” You almost jump in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck and kissing him with a sweet hunger. He doesn’t need a moment to process: he’s immediately on you. Kissing you back, fighting for dominance, while simultaneously squeezing your ass and taking off your jacket. You’re both acting like starved animals. You reach for his hardening dick and jerk him until he’s fully hard, dripping with precum. Mattheo continues kissing you with rough passion pushing you into a wall and kneading your breasts.
When you fall to your knees he needs to rest his hands against the wall for support. He drops his head and watches your pretty face as you slowly take his cock in your mouth. “(Y/n), princes, you’re so beautiful.” Even though your mouth is full with Mattheo you can’t help but smile a little at his soft compliment. You start licking and sucking his hard shaft while softly squeezing his balls. He strokes your hair and watches you intensely, hoping you’ll look up to him so he can stare into your shiny eyes, but he doesn’t dare ask, afraid he’ll sound too desperate for you.
His breathing gets more messy with every lick or twist you give his length, making you eager to take more of him in your mouth. “I’m close.” Mattheo whispers through heavy breaths. His jaw clenches when he feels your mouth leave his dick. “My wand?” You ask with a stern face as you gently jerk his saliva covered cock. Mattheo growls and rolls his eyes in frustration. “I don’t have it. You must have lost it somewhere.” You let go of his dick and stand up facing him with annoyance. “But you said-“ He pushes your body against the wall, kissing you with rough passion. “I said maybe.” Afraid that you’ll again leave him with a rock hard cock and just his hand, he glides down, his eyes never leaving yours.
You’re definitely not pleased with his little lie, but the heat pooling between your legs and his pretty face going down on you kept you silent and still. A smirk grows on Mattheo’s face seeing your attitude shift now that he’s so close to your cunt. He makes quick work of your panties and lifts your leg over his shoulder. His face disappears underneath your skirt, you feel his warm breath between your legs and his fingers gently explore your folds before digging in as he places soft kisses. Your fingers intertwine with his curls as you search for some much needed support. When you gently buck your hips into his face and soft moans leave your lips, Mattheo feels like he’s been invited to devour your pussy. His fingers slip out, but now it feels like his tongue and lips sink into you. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he keeps you close to him. You scream his name so loud you worry if anyone outside might’ve heard you. Mattheo on the other hand couldn’t care less who hears you and continues to feast on your wetness.
When your legs get shaky and your moans turn into heated cries Mattheo reluctantly pulls away from your now glinstering pussy. He runs a hand over his mouth before straightening himself to meet your face. Whining noises leave your lips as you lean on the wall behind you for support worried that your legs might give in and afraid Mattheo will leave you like this. “Don’t look so baffled, love, you started this game.” Involuntary a desperate sound leaves you and Mattheo leans in with a grin. “You’re lucky I’m generous.” He whispers as he places his hands on your hips. As much of a mess as you are at this point, you still roll your eyes. “Don’t pretend to be selfless, Mattheo.” He just chuckles at your pretentiousness and places a soft kiss on your lips, before grabbing his dick and teasing your folds, earning a soft yelp from you.
You wrap your arms around Mattheo and he eagerly pulls you close as he slowly lets your cunt swallow his thick shaft. Once he’s fully inside, you throw your head back and Mattheo takes in the view for a moment. He’s caught by surprise when you suddenly place your lips on his and kiss him with a longing passion. He loves your lust for him, so returns your passion with a mix of roughness and love before pounding into you at a steady pace.
Your fingers dig into his shoulder and scull as he dick starts hitting your spot perfectly. Your mouth hangs agape while you moan his name through unsteady breaths. It takes every bit of self control for Mattheo to not just spill inside of you with all of those pretty noises coming from you. His desire for you grows and makes him tear the buttons of your shirt so he can slip down your bra and adore your breasts. “So fucking pretty, you should be mine.” He growls and the view of him staring full of lust at your perked nipples pushes you over the edge. Your walls clench around his dick and he quickly and selfishly chases his own high as you ride yours out, overstimulating your pussy. “Fuck me a few more times like that and I’ll be yours, Riddle.” You whisper in his ear, making his eyes sparkle with eagerness.
Theodore Nott
You step out of the shower stall and look around confused, searching for your clothes, before spotting Theo’s figure lounging on a bench with your panties on top of his face. “I thought I would do the decent thing and cover my eyes, which is more than you did yesterday evening.” You roll your eyes. “Are you here to take revenge and steal my clothes?” He gets up and wants to answer your question but when he sees your naked body, since you hadn’t bothered to cover yourself, he falls silent. He can’t pull his eyes away from your body, it's like he’s being pulled towards you. “I thought that maybe we could reach some kind of agreement, I don’t want to end up in a war of stealing clothes.” He explains, but his true motivation for staying is obvious for you to see. “Feeling a little constrained?” You ask as you close the distance and rest your hand on his member. You can feel how hard it is through the fabric.
“You have no idea.”
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“You have no idea.” Theo says with a darkness in his voice that sets a fire in you. “So, let’s pick up where we left off last night.” You bite your lip at his offer. “Is there anything in it for me?” Theo smirks and you immediately regret going along with his play. “Does your soaking cunt want my cock? Want to be stretched out by me?” His arrogance does a number on your core. “Is that why you didn't play last night, because your needy pussy wasn’t getting any attention?” Your frustration gets the better of you and you push him back, making him stumble on the bench he was laying on before. As soon as he’s seated you hover over his lap, while working on his belt. He’s surprised by your dominance but lets you pull his pants down just enough for his dick to show. You let out a moan as you are reminded of its size. Theo takes your moment of shock to slip a finger between your folds and you grab a hold of his shoulders. “You’re so dumb and needy for me.” He circles your clit and you let out a soft whimper.
You push your breasts forwards and Theodore happily digs in sucking your hard nipples, earning more soft noises from you. Without warning Theo slips his fingers out of you and grabs your hips. With one harsh trust he’s inside of you. The sudden full feeling has you crying and moaning out of pain and pleasure. Theo just watches your shaking body as he licks the remainder of your juices off of his fingers. You hide your face in the crook of his neck. “You’re such a spoiled brat, wanting things you can’t handle.” You bite his neck in response, but Theo isn’t pleased with that. “You better start bouncing on my cock or I’ll leave you like you did last night.” You pull your face from his neck and scan his eyes. You really didn’t want him to leave, he had you feeling way too good. So you drop your attitude and start bouncing. Theo’s hand rests on your hips supporting and guiding you as your perfect cunt takes his whole dick. Your bouncing boobs are heaven to him, but he can’t help himself from staring at your beautiful face.
As you feel your orgasm nearing you rest your head against Theo’s and he starts working your hips, so your orgasm can wash over you. “You look so pretty when you come.” Theo whispers in your ear with a sincere softness that has you falling in love on the spot. He gives you a soft peck on the cheek and continues to fuck you until reaches his climax.
“Who knew you could be so good to me?” Theo taunts as he leans against a wall phanting with you still on top of him. You groan. “I’m never going to hear the end of this am I.” He licks his bottom lip. “That will teach you to never steal from me again.” You roll your eyes and he tucks a few lost hairs behind ear. “How about we do this again and I’ll keep quiet.” You look up at his suggestion. Maybe.
A/N: As always feedback is welcome. If a sentence hurts your brain, let me know and save an innocent reader from the same fate.
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yandere-daydreams · 7 months
Text
Title: Monster Mania.
Pairing: Yandere!Vampire!Neuvillette x Reader x Yandere!Werewolf!Wriothesley (Genshin).
Word Count: 3.0k.
TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Oral Sex, Mentions of Blood, Non-Human Anatomy, Possessive Behavior, Prolonged Imprprisoment, and Slight Dehumanization.
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“Pouting won’t get you out of this.”
“I’m not—” You paused, gritting your teeth as his shoulder pressed uncomfortably into your stomach. In retribution, you did your best to drive your knee into his chest, to let him know he was hurting you without admitting that you were even more fragile than he’d assumed, but if he cared about your attempts at resistance, if he so much as noticed that you’d moved at all, Wriothesley didn’t waver. “I’m not pouting, I’m trying to get away from my fucking stalker and his—” Another fit of thrashing. This time, Wriothesley was kind enough to tighten his hold on your legs. “—fucking dog. Why is that so hard for you two to get that through your heads?”
He hummed, drumming his fingers against your thigh. “Might be how often call us… what was it, again? A stalker and a dog?”
You scowled, crossing your arms. From your current position, slung over his shoulder, the remnants of one of his rope snares still wrapped around your left ankle, you could only see the thin footpath he was following and the dense forest that laid beyond it. The tree canopy was too thick to let you see the sky (something you mourned and Neuvillette adored, considering his fondness for early evening walks), but rays of golden sunlight still managed to pierce the endless sprawl of branches and leaves, marking the first signs of dusk. Neuvillette had still been asleep when you slipped through the door Wriothesley had forgotten to lock when he left for his daily hunting trip, but he’d be waking up soon; you could already imagine him rising from his canopied bed, picture the diluted shock he’d wear as he stepped into your bedroom for his first meal of the night only to find it empty. You weren’t surprised Wriothesley was so eager to get you home. Neuvillette was stoic at the worst of times, but the thought of letting his pet blood-bag get away was one of the few things that could get a reaction out of him.
Not that Wriothesley was much better. He was more level-headed, sure, more likely to let you wear something aside from ivory nightgowns and untangle you from Neuvillette’s arms when his hunger left him in a blood-thirsty daze, but that never stopped him from taking Neuvillette’s side when you found yourself in another petty argument, from standing in the doorway with a smile and a dreamy look in his eyes as Neuvillette fastened a lace collar around your neck, a collar just a touch too small to cover the twin puncture marks at the base of your throat and just a touch too similar to the steel choker that sat at the base of Wriothesley’s throat more often than not. He might’ve been human, something as mortal and as delicate as you were, but he was still a monster. He’d be crushed under Neuvillette’s heel a thousand times before he ever considered showing you mercy.
The shadow of their mansion was coming into view, now – the lonely building just as dark and just as intimidating as it’d been the first time Wriothesley lured inside. It stretched on as far as the eye could see in either direction and towered above you like some awful, looming thing; thick curtains constantly drawn over its many windows and every surface of its exterior constantly covered in a thick layer of creeping ivy. The rotting boards of the front porch groaned under his weight as he approached the front door, and you braced yourself as he cursed under his breath, patting down the pockets of his heavy flannel. You weren’t sure why they bothered keeping the door locked at all – aside from what it took to keep you trapped inside, at least. Neuvillette was the most dangerous thing for the next hundred miles, and Wriothesley was a close second.
The inside of the mansion was just as ominous; any light from the outside world captured and suffocated before it could penetrate Neuvillette’s endless abyss. You squirmed, hoping Wriothesley would at least let you cross the threshold on your own, but he wasn’t so kind, only responding to your silent plea with a playful squeeze to your calf as he made his way past the entryway and down an unlit hall, passing several torn paintings and overturned tables before finally shrugging open the door to Neuvillette’s study. A bottle of red wine sat open and half-drained on his mahogany desk, a small fire smoldering in the stone hearth he only rarely used. Neuvillette sat beside it, dressed in a simple black robe, his eyes blearily focused on the low-burning flames. He looked concerned, but his apprehension faded as Wriothesley carried you into his line of sigh, disappearing completely as you were hauled off of Wriothesley’s shoulder and dropped into Neuvillette’s lap. One of his hands found its way to your waist, its twin cupping your cheek, tilting your head back and allowing him to press a lingering kiss into the top of your head. “Beloved,” he muttered, practically breathing out his pet name for you before turning to Wriothesley. “Thank you, duke. I’m sorry you’ve had to inconvenience yourself for the sake of what should be my responsibility again.”
With a groan, Wriothesley fell onto the foot of the fireplace, shrugging off his coat. Where Neuvillette chose to hide his bloodlust behind a thick veil of unwavering niceties and delicate elegance, Wriothesley leaned into his brutality; broad muscle straining at the confines of his black undershirt, scruff cropping up faster than he could clear it away, his hair an untamable mess of black and grey and his clothes caked in an ever constant layer of mud and wear (save for his metal choker, of course, which was always polished to conspicuous shine). His eyes lit up when he heard Neuvillette ask after him, posture straightening like that of a soldier called to attention. You’d been too generous when you called him a dog. He was a mutt, too mindlessly obedient to ever question his master’s orders. “How many centuries has it been since you’ve had a reason to call me that?”
“It should be four this year.” Another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. You could feel the points of his fangs, still tucked behind his lips but no less dangerous for their momentary concealment. “Don’t you have something to say to him, as well?”
It took a moment to register he was talking to you, another to recognize the hypocrisy of what he was asking you. Your pressed frown fell into an open-mouthed balk. “Absolutely not.” And then, when Neuvillette held strong, “You can’t expect me to thank him for keeping me trapped here—”
“Silence.” He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t bear his fangs or dig his pointed nails into your thigh – he didn’t have to. All it took was that tone. Assertive, but not quite forceful. Lulling, but no softer than the wood and stone of his hellish mansion. Immediately, you shut your mouth. Neuvillette closed his eyes, letting out a raspy sigh before taking you by the hips and turning you in his lap, so that you faced outward rather than into his chest. That was enough to earn Wriothesley’s full attention, perking up as you were perched on the edge of Neuvillette’s lap. “Why don’t we try that again. Do you have anything to say to Wriothesley?”
You glared pointedly at the floor. “Thank you. For bringing me back?”
“And?”
“And...” This was the part you hated the most. If there’d been an alternative – a dungeon they could’ve thrown you into, a brand they could sear into your skin – you would’ve embraced it with open arms. But, that was the worst part about dealing with an captor. He had all the time in the world to make you bask in your own humiliation, and he never seemed to tire of the pasttime. “And, thank you for making sure I didn’t get hurt in the forest.”
As if there was anything out there that could’ve hurt you more than they did. Still, it seemed to appease Neuvillette, who let out an approving hum as he turned to Wriothesley. “What do you think? Be honest, this time. No lesson was ever taught with a gentle hand.”
He took a long moment to look over you, another to wet his lips. Wordlessly, dependent on the pure desperation in your eyes, you begged him not to listen to Neuvillette, to take your side just this once, but your improvised attempts at telepathic communication proved unsuccessful. “It could’ve been more genuine,” he admitted, with a slight shrug. “Didn’t have much nice to say on the way back, either.”
“Is that so?” His fingertips drummed against your side. “Why don’t you join us?”
Wriothesley didn’t hesitate, practically stumbling over himself as he crawled to Neuvillette’s feet. He came to rest on his knees, hand braced against the rug between his thighs and his cheek only a hair’s width from Neuvillette’s leg, as if waiting for permission to press against him. He always looked at his most relaxed there, on the floor, patiently waiting for an order from his master. It was hard to tell whether it was a skill learned through time, or if subservience was just in his nature.
His obedience was rewarded with a breathy chuckle, a hand run through his unruly hair. Wriothesley was more lax with himself than he usually was, letting his eyes fall shut as he melted into Neuvillette’s touch. “Since your tongue is so uncooperative today,” Neuvillette started, leaning forward just far enough to rest his chin on your shoulder. “How do you think you can show our dear helper how grateful you are?”
A bolt of cold dread shot down your spine. You moved to stand, to get away, but Neuvillette’s arm wrapped tight around your midriff, keeping you pinned against him despite your resistance. “Neuvi’,” you mumbled, squirming against him. “Please, Neuvi’, I don’t want to—”
“Now you’re going to play nice?” His hand fell to your knee, drawing your legs apart. Wriothesley filled the space before you could clench them shut again, his mouth immediately latching onto the inside of your thigh, his dull teeth burying themselves in the plush of your exposed skin. You cursed under your breath, trying to shake him off, but he held tight, fists curling around your ankles to keep you spread and exposed as Neuvillette watched on, his grin pressing into the crook of your throat. “That’s a little cruel, beloved. Can’t you see how excited he is?”
You could. There was a glassy sheen over his half-lidded eyes, a hunch to his posture that meant he was too distracted with you to care about how he held himself. You’d slipped out in a rush, eager to get as far as you could before Neuvillette woke up. In your haste, you hadn’t bothered to change out of the simple, silken frock you were wearing; a choice you only came to regret as Neuvillette dragged the tattered hem to your waist, as Wriothesley’s attention drifted from your thighs to your panties, the lacey fabric torn away with little more than a curl of his fingers and a throaty growl. That, more than anything, caught you off-guard. It wasn’t a threat, but it was more hostile than anything he’d ever directed towards you before. It wasn’t a sound someone like him, someone like you, should’ve been capable of making.
Neuvillette must’ve felt the way you stiffened against him. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the curve of your throat, just a touch too close to the vein he preferred to drink from, then another into the dip of your shoulder. “Surely, you must’ve noticed how scarce Wriothesley makes himself around this time of the month.” He paused, laughing airily. “He’d already be safely locked away in the cellar, if you hadn’t made him run out and fetch you. I suppose it must’ve slipped his mind while he was looking for you.”
“I don’t—” A tongue, broader than it should’ve been, hotter than it should’ve been, ran over your slit. “But, he’s supposed to be—”
“Human?” You refused to look at him, refused to acknowledge what he was doing to you, but you could feel his teeth ghosting over your skin, their usually dull tips beginning to sharpen into something more pointed, more animalistic. His tongue slipped into your entrance, thick enough to stretch you open with little more than its curling tip, and Neuvillette’s focus fell to your clit, left neglected by Wriothesley’s unwavering concentration on lapping up as much of your (humiliatingly, quickly accumulating) slick as he could. His thumb toyed with the sensitive bundle of nerves as he went on. “He is rather young, as far as immortal beings are concerned. He made an adorable puppy, back when creatures of the night were free to roam as they pleased, but he’s matured since his days of village razing and cattle slaughtering. I think you’ll find he’s learned how to keep his fangs to himself.” Wriothesley nipped gently at the junction of your thigh. You winced and Neuvillette added, “More or less.”
You could only bring yourself to half-listen to what he was saying. Wriothesley was growing more wild by the second, his formerly languid movements now hasty and agitated, little groans and growls joining the wet, disgusting sounds quickly filling the study. You felt claws that hadn’t been there a moment ago dig into your ankles, his already impressive build taking on bulk that would’ve been possible for anything natural, anything human. It wasn’t enough to just look away, anymore – you shut your eyes completely, bowing your head and curling into yourself as Wriothesley ate you out like a man— no, not a man, a beast starved. The cool marble of Neuvillette’s chest was almost a comfort when compared to the raw heat of Wriothesley’s mouth. It might’ve been more soothing, had he not been taking so much joy in your suffering.
“He’s always been prone to getting carried away. I used to have to fetch him at dawn – he could never seem to make it home before the moon set and he was left bare and unconscious in the vineyard of some poor nobleman.” He pulled back, letting Wriothesley’s cold nose grind against your clit in his place. You weren’t free from his touch for very long, though. The array of ribbons that kept the bodice of your frock drawn tight were undone, the neckline loosened and allowed to fall to your shoulders. “I’ve always preferred a more direct approach. The occasional drunkard taken off the street and drained was always enough to keep me sated.” He paused, cupped the curves of your chest. “Until I came across you, of course.”
You felt his fangs scrape over your neck, but he didn’t have time to bite down before you lurched forward, the sporadic movements of Wriothesley’s tongue bringing you to a sudden, unsteady climax. It was abrupt enough, violent enough to make tears swell in the corners of your eyes, to steal a ragged gasp from your lungs despite your attempts to swallow back any pathetic sound your weak-willed body might’ve wanted to make. For the first time, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him, letting your gaze fall onto the black-furred, oversized thing between your legs. He was unrecognizable, black fur and a wolf-like muzzle swallowing any familiar trait you might’ve latched onto. Pointed ears laid flat against his scalp, a grey-tipped tail brushed over the floor lazily behind him as he moved to keep going, to milk every last drop out of you, but Neuvillette reached down and took him by the metal collar now pressing flush against his throat. There was a low, drawn-out whine as he was dragged up and away from your pussy, but Neuvillette’s cruelty was limited to you.
“We spent hours talking about what to do with you, when he first brought you home.” He spoke absent-mindedly, muttering against your throat as he guided Wriothesley onto his knees. Even at only a fraction of his full height, he was tall enough to loom over you, to replace your limited world with a towering shadow of black fur and white teeth. He was panting, his chin glistening with slick and drool, what was left of his tattered clothes torn away in a few aggerated swipes of his claws. You’d been wrong, again – not every part of him was unfamiliar. His eyes were still there, the grey clouded and his pupils blown out but still undeniably his. Still fixed entirely on you.
“I thought he should turn you as soon as possible, but he protested, claimed the transformation would be too much for you.” He bowed his head, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Between you and I, there might be a chance he’s hoping I’ll give in first. He does his best to hide it, but he tends to sulk whenever I choose to feed from you. I think he’s hoping we might both have to rely on him.”
Clawed hands curled around the arms of his chair, the wood creaking under Wriothesley’s weight. For the first time, you let your eyes drift lower, let yourself take in the massive, pulsing cock standing erect against his lower stomach. It looked too big; like a prop, made to only vaguely resemble the real thing. It looked like it could tear you in half.
“Then again, he might’ve grown fond of the idea of adding another wolf to his pack,” Neuvillette added, as you went limp against him. “We’ll have to see how human you feel when the sun rises.”
It was an awkward position, Wriothesley too tall and Neuvillette too unyielding. He kept one arm wrapped tightly around your midriff as his other hand drifted into the limited space between your body and Wriothesley’s, his pale hand curling around Wriothesley’s thick shaft and carefully lining it up with your dripping cunt. Wriothesley bucked into the stimulation, his body lurching forward and his head nuzzling into the dip of your shoulder. You felt his breath, warm and humid, fan over your chest, then the rough reverberation of his voice against your skin. “Mate.” It was more of a groan than anything, one long breath that seemed to escape from some unseen vault. It was his voice, but there was something underneath it, too – something more guttural than you would ever want on top of you. “Mine.”
“Ours,” Neuvillette corrected, tightening his hold and drawing you close. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel it, pressing against your throat as his fangs reclaimed lost territory. “Our precious, misguided little pet.”
Wriothesley thrust into you as Neuvillette drove his teeth into your skin, both men piercing you simultaneously. Too stunned to scream, you could only silently wonder who would end you first.
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fanaticsnail · 4 months
Text
You're Angry at the Tall Men
Masterlist Here
I have two very dear mutual creators on here that are struggling with the flu. Hopefully yelling at the tall men of one-piece will help you both out: @feral-artistry & @sordidmusings
Word Count: 200-400 per gentleman: Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Corazon, Doflamingo
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Warnings: anger, violence, suggestive spice for a few, angst, afab!implied but not overly mentioned, height difference.
First time writing for Cora, Croc and Doffy - mainly going off small clips and overall vibes. Apologies if I didn't do your blorbo justice.
(Apprehensive tag list: @gingernut1314, @writingmysanity)
He knows what he did to earn your wrath; your fury ignited in your eyes and the flames physically tangible and searing the room with your scorn. Your brow was furrowed, your lips curling into a snarl to bare your pearled teeth at him.
Buggy: 6’3
“Sit your tall ass down!” you roared at him. The clown shrieked back, immediately reaching his stuttering hands towards the back of a chair to unceremoniously fall back onto the wooden base. Unfortunately, as his ass barely grazes the base; his weight proceeds to fall from its intended target, plopping down onto the cement ground instead of finding comfort on the chair.
“Ah, fuck!” he cried out alongside his wince, his red nose creased as he felt the pain shoot up his coxic bone and tingle up his spine. This moment of failure breaking a small crack in your iron fury, a giggle attempting to break through your anger. He winces his beautiful teal eyes up at you, cringing through the pain and gritting his teeth in an attempt of a smile.
“You are so pathetic,” you growled at him, extending your hand out and collecting his chin within your thumb and index finger. You were held captive by his sparkling eyes beneath his lengthy blue eyelashes as he looked up at you in awe.
“It’s why you love me, right?” he whimpered at you, his crooked smile drawing you in closer to him. You stooped, pressing a small kiss against his rotund, red nose.
“Yes,” you again growled at him, pouting with your brow falling low in the center of your forehead, “but I’m still angry at you.”
“I know,” he grumbled in response, his eyes upturning and almost pleading, “but I can fix that, right?”
Shanks: 6’6
“Woah, woah, love!” he cried out, backing away from your approach with his wide smile plastered to his cheeks. He was still smiling, even when you backed him against the wall with your forearm horizontally pressing him back into the wooden banister behind him.
“You absolute stupid, ridiculous, drunken-,” one look into his loving eyes rendered you immediately defenseless to his aura. He looked at you with such love, his brown eyes holding only softness and adoration within them. He brings up his arm, choosing to caress your cheek and lace a loose strand of your hair to hook over your cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into you, leaning his head down and moving his lips against your forehead to murmur into your skin, “forgive me, I didn’t mean it.” Inhaling a deep breath, you feel the rage falling away from you as he continued murmuring sweet nothings into your ear.
“You’re so beautiful when you’re angry,” he breathed his raspy voice into your ear.
“And you’re so handsome when you’re not the one making me angry,” you growled back at him.
Mihawk 6’6
“Mihawk!” your rumbled growl echoed in the high ceilings lifting the light in the large dining room. He was stooping, fingertips halting their descent to grasp the back of his dining chair. He huffed out a sigh, rotating his neck and removing his hat from his head. He placed the hat on his dining setting, and prepared himself to receive your wrath.
As soon as you saw him preparing himself to receive the scorn you were about to bear down on him, you decided to switch it up. Something about how smug he was did not satiate your fire from erupting further. You had every intention of taking him by his wrist and leading him to the impressive steps of the foyer and taking a few steps up to bring you to the appropriate height to maintain eye contact as you reprimanded him.
But his ear was right there, no longer shielded by his broad hat to halt your action. Immediately, you pressed your index and middle finger against the overly sensitive shell of his ear and began dragging him towards the archway leading to the foyer.
“Not quite so hard, dear,” he winced as his steps stuttered behind you. You allowed a sinister smirk to rise on your lips, gaining a sickening amount of joy from knowing you were paining him a little to satisfy your wrath. As your feet found the steps, you relinquished your hold on his ear and turned to face him, your eyes first glancing at the raven curls atop his head that you rarely are accustomed to seeing these days. His head was bowed, his hand drawn up to cradle his ear and sooth over the throbbing shell. At this, your anger ceased and you immediately sought out his eyes by cupping his cheeks and elevating his face.
“I’m sorry, my love. Did I hurt you, are you okay?” you hastily spoke, eyes checking over his face for any semblance of hurt or pain.
“Only my pride, dear,” he replied in a soft grumble, continuing to keep his eyes from joining with your own. You sighed in relief before shaking your head to remind yourself why you brought him here in the first place. You furrowed your brow and slunk your hands from his cheeks to fall them against his chest.
“I’m-,” you began, your angry words halted by Mihawk taking a step forward and pressing his forehead against your own.
“-I’m sorry. Forgive me,” he whispered into your face, his eyes half lidded and sorrow falling over his face, “I never meant to hurt you, and I’m willing to spend all the time it takes to make it up to you.”
Sir Crocodile 8’3
Clutching his cigar in his index and middle fingers, he flicked the ash into the glass and gold tray on his desk. He could hear the fall of your feet outside the door, his jaw falling slack in bored frustration. 
“You devious bastard,” you growled as the door to his office flung open. He inhaled deeply, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out another cigar to clench his teeth onto. As your eyes met, his brow arched while his eyelids hung half-lidded. He sat back against his armchair and uncrossed his legs from their join of the knees. Remaining wordless, he fished around in his pants for his lighter, to find nothing but his golden pocket watch and a few rolls of berry within his leatherbound wallet.
“Be a dear and find me a light,” he dismissed your anger with the wave of his hand as his eyes searched his desk for his capped lighter. This seemed to engage your fury further, making you immediately lunge at him and crawl onto his lap. You drew your claw-shaped grip up to his jaw, snarling into his face as you did so.
“You think I care about your lighter right now, you arrogant lizard,” you spat at him. His eyes widened in surprise, initially being taken off guard by your presence atop his thigh. Immediately after processing the shock, his eyes darkened as he used his large, golden hook to circle around your thigh; trapping it within the metal and drawing it closer into him. Your kneeling position atop his lap was now made ever more dangerous than it had been, not knowing how he would truly respond to your anger. Both of your tempers began to flare as he snarled at you.
“Lighter first,” he growled at you, looking up into your enraged eyes as your hair cascaded down over his face, draped almost intimately over his forehead. You scoffed, flicking the hair over your shoulder and grimaced at him in response. 
“And why should I do that after what you did?” you gnashed your teeth, baring your rage in your now untested situation. The tense air now growing thick and dense as your bodies pressed closer together. He gripped your hips with his hand, his golden hook scraping over your thigh and placing your knee over his waist as he drew you closer. 
“Lighter first,” he began to snarl at you, “or I will channel your rage in another way.”
“Try me, Reptile,” you snarled at him, clenching your teeth as you stooped lower into his face. He immediately stood, his tall body hoisting you up against his hips and slamming your back atop his desk. He hovered over your body, leaning his face down and snarling into you,
“You should’ve just done what you were told,” He growled into your neck.
“You shouldn't have pissed me off,” you gnashed your teeth once more, your eyes widening as you felt his teeth bite down hard on your clavicle, soothing over the new injury with his tongue. 
Corazon 9’7
“Donquixote Rosinante!” you shouted, walking around the halls and tracking the stupor of his step. You immediately heard a thud, followed by several crashing booms reverberating within the hallway. None of these sounds halted your descent, your rage and fury propelling your steps further towards him.
When your eyes fell over his body, he was hoisting himself up from his entanglement with several cleaning products; a mop over his head and a bucket circling over his left foot. He looked ridiculous, his coat hanging limply from his shoulders over his open heart-stitched shirt.
As he rose to his feet, you were taken aback at how truly tall he was; his body towering over your own. You lost your nerve slightly at his stature, but still the edges of your body remained singed with the fires of rage within your soul.
“Cora-!” your words were halted by the man drawing such anger from you wordlessly holding up his palm to silence you. Your brows fell further down your face, your frown deepening as you watched him silently search his surroundings. His eyes widened first, before softening as he stooped down to collect the bucket that was once wrapped around his foot. He blew over the base of the bucket with a small puff of breath, placing the brim on the ground and dusting the base with the back of his hand.
He turned his painted face up to you, a tight smile pulling at his mouth as he extended his hand to you. You sucked in a breath through your nostrils, pouting as you took his hand. Stepping up onto the bucket, you still remained short to his great height. Still holding onto your hand, his smile softened as he bent at the knees to crouch in front of you, looking up into your face with eyes baring great sorrow at how angry you were with him.
Relinquishing the hold against your hand, he gestured for you to bare your soul out to him with a simple swipe of his hands. He was so willing to have you share your emotions with him, it almost made you want to cry with frustration at how truly loving he was to you. 
“You’re just going to sit back and take it? Say something, Cora. Anything!” You screamed, the sting of tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. He continued to watch on, never once rising from his crouch, nor bringing his eyes away from searching your face. It was only when a hot, frustrated tear fell from your eye down your cheek that he rose up to his full size once more. 
He wordlessly drew his palm up to claim your cheek, his thumb brushing the tear away from its descent down towards your mouth. 
“Please,” you whimpered while searching his eyes, “please say something.”
He leant forward, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes, circling the other arm around your shoulders and holding your chest flush with his own. His lips found the crown of your head, pressing a soft and careful kiss against the top of your hair.
“Calm,” he uttered, the room circled around him by the spark of his devil-fruit power. You looked at him confused, your nostrils flaring at him while still expressing your anger. 
“Why use the devil-fruit powers now?” you asked him, shaking your head at him as all else in the hallway was silenced. No taps of feet, no drips of taps, nor the sounds of breeze through the trees outside the room could be heard within the silent barrier. 
“Because I want everyone to know how angry you are with me,” he uttered, his nose lovingly brushing against your own, “And I want to be able to scream how much I love you with no consequence.” He pressed his lips against your forehead, smearing his red face paint against your skin as he trailed a flurry of gentle kisses against your nose, cheek bones and the corner of your lips in an attempt to smother the flames of your anger. 
“This doesn’t make up for what you did,” you spat at him, your narrowed eyes looking at him through your eyelashes remaining dark with fury.
“I know,” he admitted, unwrapping his arm from circling your shoulders. He grazed his arm down and collected your hand once more within his, lacing your fingers together as he uttered, “I’m so sorry, my darling. I’ll never do it again.”
Doflamingo 10’
He was immediately expressing joy at how riled up he had managed to make you, his lips curling back into a sinister smile. He darted his tongue out over his mouth to dampen his chapped lip before he allowed a rumbly chuckle to exit from his chest.
“Doflamingo!” You screamed, rage and fury overcasting your usual stoic state with their venom. He rose to his feet and was almost bursting at the seams with how happy getting a rise from you was making him.
“How dare you?! How dare you do that to me?!” You roared, not halting your approach in any way. He towered over you, his lanky build condescendingly casting his feathered silhouette over your body.
“I don’t give a fuck,” he shrugged, speaking quickly with a broad grin continuing to polish his cheeks. His eyes remained hidden by his glasses, your own eyes beginning to prick at the corners with a frustrated rage.
“Wipe that horrible grin off your face before I rip it off,” you spat, your hands demonstrating how truly violent your thoughts were.
“Only if you do it with your teeth, Princess,” he bore his teeth down at you. His smile widened further up his cheeks, your urge to claw out his eyes not satisfied in the slightest. You impulsively swung your hand at his face, your wrist caught within his circled grip. His laughter erupted over his chest at this small demonstration of violence, so easily stifled by his hands.
“Ohh, you’ve got some fire in you today,” he chucked his taunt at you, leaning down further into you; his nose almost brushing against your own with how close he drew himself down to you, “What I’d give to see that demonstrated with your body wrapped around my- AHH.” You halted his words within his mouth by clamping your teeth down against his nose hard enough to draw blood. After tasting the metallic flavor roll over your tongue, you withdrew your teeth from his flesh and bore your red-tinted lips at him.
He reached up to clutch the scruff of your neck, pulling you closer into him and purring a roar of his own into you:
“Mmm, Harder.”
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puppykento · 2 months
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fuck about it - older bf!toji x fem!reader [drabble]
a/n: title from the waterparks song of the same name !!
cw: 18+ content, p in v, pet names, very mild degradation, creampie, mating press, brief nipple play
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Toji likes his girlfriend a lot. Seriously, he does. You're sweet - a lot cuter than his normal type. He tends to like them sexier, with long legs and dolled up faces, but you? You drive him crazy with your doe-eyes and bubbly personality.
He's surprised that such a cute girl can pack an attitude like you can. 'Cause you're seriously adorable, but your incessant whining drives him up the wall. You really are lucky you have that puppy-dog look about you because he'd feel a lot less guilty about going so rough on you if you didn't look at him with those pretty eyes of yours.
When you come home from college yapping about this issue, and that - talking his damn ear off, he's had enough. The only thing that ever manages to shut you up seems to be pumping you full of his cum, and he'd gladly provide his cock whenever you got bitchy enough for it. He's tried talking it out before, but it never seems to work. You want him to fuck the argument out of you? Fine. He'd do it gladly.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
He's got you bent in half on the bed, knees pressed to your chest as he presses his thumb down against his tip, slowly pushing it into your drippy cunt with a groan. His hand slips away from his cock as he presses forward, sliding up your body to grope at your tits. You let out the prettiest whine as he pinches and tugs at one of your nipples, watching as all the annoyance drains from your face.
"Such a pretty little slut. Takin' my cock so well, ain't ya princess?" He grunts, instantly picking up the pace until he's bullying his length against your cervix with every thrust, his hips slapping against the fat of your ass.
"Always givin' me so much back talk, but ya get so soaked f'me..." He adds, his brows furrowing as he thrusts his cock into you, both of his hands moving to the backs of your thighs, pressing your knees more firmly against your chest. You're moaning his name, a sound that's got him gritting his teeth as he tries not to blow his load early.
"Bratty slut... so easy to fuck that attitude right out 'f ya." He forces out past his gritted teeth, sucking in a sharp breath as he feels your walls clenching down on his cock, sucking him in. Feels like you're trying to milk him with the way your pussy is gripping onto him. His hand slips down between your legs, rubbing circles into your clit with his thumb. Your back arches, a breathy moan spilling past your lips as you cum, clenching oh-so deliciously around him.
"Fuck, bunny. That's a good fuckin' girl." He groans, sloppily thrusting into you, forcing your release to dribble down your thighs and his balls as slick sounds fill the bedroom. One, two, three more thrusts, and he's burying himself to the hilt, pressing his body weight against you as he goes limp on the back of your thighs, grunting your name as he coats your insides in his cum.
After a few moments, he lets out a sigh and pulls out, flopping onto the bed next to you. He throws an arm over his eyes, going limp against the mattress. "You gonna stop bitchin' at me now?"
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sweetiecutie · 9 months
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GIRL WAIT WAIT WAIT-
"König is very envious. He envies people with higher position, people with better skills (even though these are rare ones)" what about a fem reader, who is exactly this?
Higher position, and better than him somehow??? For the event, please! What about some hatred sex, enemies to lovers maybe. He is attracted but drowning in envy.
Pairing: König x fem! sniper! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, mdni, König being a lil bitch
A/n: did I write this thing in 20 mins? Hell yes I did. Also, sorry it’s not exactly how you requested it, but well, I write whatever I want I guess. Referring to this post
Your Colonel hates you.
König hates you with blazing fierce, even despite the fact that it was him who hand picked you into his team, him who trained you hours to no end to make you into a perfect sniper. He loathes your mere existence, gritting his teeth at the sound of your voice greeting him every morning, your bright smile addressed at him.
At your young age of 23 you completed 26 missions as a sniper, every single one of them successful. You were a natural, truly. Your smaller size and flexibility were perfect for position of a sniper, making it way easier for you to hide, able to move from one spot to another without being noticed by enemy. And König loathed it. Why the fuck were you living his dream? Just because you were born smaller? Such an injustice.
And he trained you even harder; until your right shoulder was all bruised from the kickback of a rifle, until your eyes were sharper than eagle’s, until you instinctively felt where to shoot, considering weather conditions, to aim perfectly. König shaped your skills with great precision and sternness, making a shiny diamond out of rough rock.
And sometimes König hated himself for treating you so unjustly. It wasn’t your fault that you were small, nor was it his fault that he was so huge. You were always so sweet and polite, never once talking back, no matter how harsh his words and actions were. You always treated König with respect that was borderline childish awe, taking in his every word, complying with his every demand. And he adored you for that.
Adoration on a verge on hatred - how unhealthy. You seemed to be perfect - too perfect, and König wanted to break you down, to make you look horrible, to open you up and take a look at all the disgusting things that you were hiding within so skillfully. Everyone had a bad side, right?
And that’s why he called you into his office, bending you over his desk, fucking his huge throbbing cock into your welcoming heat. Velvety walls clamped down onto his hard length desperately as you fought back all the pretty moans that threatened to fall from your lips. You way smaller body plunged forward slightly with each of König’s ferocious thrusts, your plump ass rippling at the impact of his hips against it, back arching oh so beautifully. And that’s when König finally realized.
It was him who was the fucked up one.
All this time, König believed it was your fault - that you stole his dream, taunted him with your excellent skills, teased him for failing his career as a sniper. And that moment he realized that you were the sweetest creature out there, basically worshipping your harsh and mean Colonel who treated you so harshly, who expanded your mind and abilities even further.
And König was just a pathetic envious piece of shit.
His movements halted as he watched from behind your ribs move as you breathed rapidly; he couldn’t see your face, but he noted that your ears were a few shades redder; your small hands were clinging to the shiny surface of his desk, trying to find some grounding with little success. König crouched over, resting his forehead on the table next to your head, his nose buried into the dip between your neck and shoulder, inhaling lungfuls of your sweet scent through dense fabric of his balaclava.
One of your trembling hands came to cup side of his head, rubbing it soothingly - your movements were a bit awkward due to your positioning, but sweet nevertheless. How could you be like this? Despite all harsh treatment you received before, mean words and actions, you still were so sweet with him.
- I’m sorry, - König murmured quietly, placing a kiss on your shoulder. His mouth was still covered by black balaclava, but you understood what he meant to do. - I’m so sorry.
- It’s okay, - you uttered, you voice shaky and small, arousal muddling up your thoughts.
You wriggled your hips impatiently, prompting your Colonel to move. And he complied, wringing one mind blowing orgasm out of you after another, throwing you around the table however he pleased, trying to make amends for all of his bitching to you.
Surely, it was not enough to pay you off for his horrible behavior, but König try his hardest to make it up to his sweet little sniper<3
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nanamiluvs · 2 months
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morning kisses !
pairing : husband!nanami x reader
rating : fluff
wc : 500
warnings : reader has no gender but is called "wife" once, not beta read, just a small drabble i made instead of studying, tooth-rotting fluff, reader can be considered a housewife or just leaves for work after nanami does, nanami being a sweetheart, teasing, reader is shorter than nanami
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
husband!nanami who kisses you everyday before going to work. husband!nanami who, one day, deliberately doesn't.
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husband!nanami who kisses you everyday just before he leaves the house. you make his tie, he puts on his suit jacket and takes his brief case. then he pulls you in for a kiss, a gentle hand on the back of your head and the other wrapping around the small of your back. it's such a simple gesture, really, one that never fails to make your heart flutter and his day better. he has a fond smile on his lips as he kisses you, if the man could, he would choose to stay at home by your side.
it all started when he noticed how you slightly lean in after he put on his shoes, it wasn't hard to see that you were simply expecting his usual goodbye kisses. so he happily obliged, pulling you in and pressing his soft lips against yours.
husband!nanami who saw it happen again the other day.
husband!nanami who tried to hide his smile whenever he saw you do it. your head tilting towards him with your eyes closed, which immediately resulted in him giving you a kiss. he didn't want you noticing this little act of yours that made him want to giggle like a highschool boy.
one day, husband!nanami who took his briefcase and turned around to leave for work, who pretended he didn't see your closed eyes, tilted face and the way you raised yourself on your tiptoes. husband!nanami who hides the incoming shit-eating grin with a stoic face.
"hm?" nanami turned to face you as you made a questioning sound, not understanding what's going on. he gritted his teeth trying not to smile, your dumbfounded face just so adorable that he wanted to squeeze your cheeks and pepper your face with kisses. you opened your eyes, blinking as you saw him look at you like you were acting weird. "kento?"
he turned his head toward outside as his hand went up to cover his face. you still couldn't make up what was happening as he tried to contain his laugh, quiet and endearing sounds escaping the man. "kento? are you okay?" he was still fighting a smile as he put down his briefcase and his hands reached out to cup your cheeks, eyes full of love and adoration as his lips found their place against yours.
husband!nanami who pulls back and then grabs his briefcase again. "see you, my love." he turns around to actually leave this time, closing the door behind him, leaving you in a blank state. you stood there for a few seconds, wondering, what just happened?
you didn't know what he had on his mind back there, neither did you know about the way he had a dazed smile on his face for the rest of the day. usually, no one would approach nanami, but if anyone came around and asked, "mr. nanami, are you alright? did something happen today?" he would answer them.
"i'm married to my wife."
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rileysluvr · 10 months
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something really short cause i have nothing else. könig nsfw
just imagine a situation where you’re forced to sit on könig’s lap because there’s less room than needed on the small military aircraft due to a field emergency, so you opt for his space because he’s the closest person to you out of the bunch and not to mention the largest, kindest, most comfortable looking one. he’s so hesitant at first but it’s all kept internal because he could never say no to you, let alone stand to watch you on another man’s lap for the next two hours. he begins to question if he prioritized the correct things, however, when he ultimately fails at suppressing his hard-on after just barely managing for the first half hour of the flight.
you feel his dick practically digging into your ass through the multiple layers of cargo pants, and he knows his prayers for discretion have gone unanswered when you adjust your hips against his lap. the feel of it surprises you—you want to laugh, why now?—but the entire concept of it does not come as a shock; it only nourishes the given cockiness in you. you’d have to be a blind mutt not to notice the way he looks at you, shying away when he thinks you’ve caught him staring. silly guy. the hood doesn’t hide all, könig.
“scheiße, du schweinehund,” he breathes defeatedly to himself, eyes squeezed shut in humility. he’s the only mutt here, really. he can’t imagine how pink his cheeks have gone, except for the fact that they feel like they’ve been repeatedly grazed by a blowtorch you hold. he musters up a straight voice, yet his words just barely break past a whisper; “…forgive me.” he grits his teeth and bites his tongue, “gott—i am not in the correct headspace right now, i-i am so sorry.”
you giggle that same laugh that had his knees threatening to buckle in on most days. “it’s okay, könig, really,” you tell him, so convincing and so sweet that he has no choice but to believe it to be true. still, he’s beyond mortified. you hum after a few seconds, “more than okay.” he sucks in a sharp breath. you don’t need to see him to know what sort of affect you’re having on him, arms crossed over your chest while his are unsteady and sweaty at his sides. he’s so awkward, it’s adorable.
like this, you can truly absorb all of him like you never could on an average day; he’s soft spoken off the field and with a deeper drawl, and far more reserved. that manly, post-mission musk of his, apparent through the close proximity, is only insanely attractive. and he’s just so. fucking. big. you lean further back against his frame, head resting on his broad shoulder, and you can feel his heart beating at his ribs against your upper back. with everyone else chatting amongst themselves or already deep into their sleep, you wouldn’t mind teasing him a bit.
“i actually think it’s really cute,” you add, with another slight of a giggle, of course. “and hot.” you bite and bite and he groans so lowly every time, something almost of a broken whimper, you’d say. you wiggle your hips a bit, not terribly noticeable to the outside world but he swears your every action comes with a bite of an aphrodisiac. you smirk and he hears it, right past the nonchalance in your voice; “and quite impressive, i’d say.”
you hear a whine die in his throat—it’s fucking whorish, and needy—along with another swear, and in an instant, you’ve made up your mind to take him out of the public eye once you land and show him just how impressive he really is.
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buckyalpine · 6 months
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Slightly drunken ramblings. But imagine Bucky sneakily dragging you away to the bathroom in the middle of a party because that pretty little sparkly pink dress is driving him fucking crazy. He's dressed in all black from head to toe and you look like the most delicate sweet thing beside him, his pretty princess. On top of that, your doe eyes keep flicking over to him while you innocently sip on your wine glass and he knows there's nothing but filth behind those eyes.
"Bambi..." He practically growls, pushing you against the counter tops after locking the door shut, slotting himself between your legs.
"Jamie" you shyly giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist, gasping at his erection pressing against your core, his hands going to your waist to grind himself on you. "What are you-
"You're here lookin' like sin and you expect me to keep my hands to myself" He scoffs, the clink of his belt buckle hitting the floor making your stomach flip. "Look what you do to me baby"
He purrs by your ear, taking your hand and wrapping it around his throbbing cock, moving it to stroke his thick length up and down.
"This is your fault Bambi, coming out here, looking a me like that"
"Like what Jamie" You let out a needy whine, spreading your thighs apart to show him where you need him most, feigning innocence.
"Acting like you're not a little cockslut for me baby, batting those pretty eyes as if you're not thinking about my fat cock stretching you" He groans when he swipes his fingers through your folds, feeling your lack of panties, "Dirty girl, not even wearing panties, you wanted this, didn't you baby"
"Please daddy" you beg this time and he doesn't waste a second shoving his cock in with zero prep. You choke out a scream as he grabs your hips to hold you in place while he starts to fuck you hard and fast, your heels digging against his ass.
"That's it, take my cock baby, take daddy's big cock" He groans feeling you clench around him, your sobs of pleasure echoing and bouncing off the walls. "Pretty little slut for daddy, s'perfect, gonna make me cum so hard baby"
He grits his teeth, biting into your soft skin leaving marks along your neck and shoulders so everyone knows who you belong to. He moves one hand to pull the front of your dress down freeing your breasts so he could latch onto your nipples, tugging them between his teeth before laving at them with his tongue.
"Fuck princess, you're gonna make daddy cum" He tries hard to control it but when he's with you his voice always slips into a whine. He wants to hold it, he loves the way your tight cunt makes a creamy mess all over him, he could stare at the sight of his cock stretching your pussy all day. "Cum for me Bambi, m'gonna cum, fuck-
"D-Daddy!" You cry out, his pubic bone grinding and rubbing against your clit making your pussy throb, the head of his cock steadily dripping.
"Fuck yes, such a good girl, my good girl, dirty little girl just for me, take my cum pretty baby, take it, oh God, so much-mph, look at me when I fill you up baby" He grabs your jaw, squeezed your cheeks together, nipping at your adorable pout while he fills you up with the most dirty, sinful moan, hot ropes of cum seeping out of your folds, wetting your thighs. He kisses you deeply and possessively, licking away at the dark marks that cover your neck and breasts, proud of his work. "My pretty little princes"
Meanwhile...
"Has anyone seen y/n"
"Notice you don't see Barnes anywhere either"
"Did you see what she was wearing and how he was looking at her"
"..."
"He's fucking her somewhere, isn't he"
"Yup"
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