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qtipcottonbuds · 2 years

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𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙏𝙊𝘽𝙀𝙍 ‘𝗢𝟯 ; 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙀 [STUCK IN WALL + SWEAT]

this was a bit delayed sorry >:( this is a bit more tame really (update maybe not).

warnings ;; groping, stuck in wall ish (more like underneath a log really, sweat, somewhat knife play, humilation ish, possible mild language, (this is just a roleplay scenario), dubious consent, hints at CNC etc

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗘 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

It’s quiet, unnaturally so, aside from the accompaniment of cicadas and crickets. Your friends, if he could call them that at this point, had just managed to escape the realm albeit with heavy wounds in doing so.

Dead leaves crunch underneath the heels of his leather boots, he crouches lowly in front of you, tilting his head in something akin to fake sympathy. It wasn’t usual for him to stumble across a plaything, stuck in the undergrowth and bushes, wedged from the waist upwards between rotting planks and water-logged soil. Not exactly the most ideal of situations, he’ll admit.

You’d made some sort of attempt to haul yourself, signalled by the thick dirt caking the underneath of your fingernails, as well as the sweat coating your brow and clothing. Wearily, at his presence, you glance up at him, grimacing at the strain on your neck.

“Looks like someone has gone and got themselves a little bit stuck. Would you, uh, like some assistance there, toots?”

Face down, you let out a small huff. Defiant. He could work with that.

Tutting, he playfully twirls his knife between gloved fingertips.

“Is that a no, then?”

You seemingly go to form the words silently, lips pursing in a just about pronunciation (or a potential retort) to turn him down. Embarrassed. Yet, surprisingly you respond with a soft, ‘Please.’

Defeat was a good look on you.

“C’mon, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Ask and you shall receive; your wish is my command.”

As you visibly slump further into the dirt (most likely in both relief and exhaustion), he sets his camera, flashing red, on a nearby tree stump and stands up, bringing himself to full height, heading around to the other side. It’s clear you’ve been stuck there for some time (or rather, left behind), most notably by the torn clothing, drenched in sweat and the slivers of flesh peeking through the worn seams.

It’s a shame you were unaware of the smile on his lips, underneath his mask, grinning like the cat who caught the cream.

Grasping around your calves, securely, he tugs harshly, jerking you backwards - and ultimately, wedging you further in, now pinned face down from your upper back. You wince in the process though, grunting at the force, most likely being left with one or two splinters.

Muffled by the undergrowth, he can barely catch your words, managing to piece together a, “Did it work?”

Snickering quietly, he finishes off, carefully drawing his blade across the fraying edges of your jeans, cutting away through the belt hoops and into the threading of the back pockets.

(It sure did).

You’re wriggling much more now, the heels of worn trainers digging into wet soil, trying to gain some leverage to ease yourself from the dry rot. Or maybe, you’re uncomfortable at the lack of a response. Either one is understandable, he muses.

“Hello? Are you still there- What did you do? You, you said you were going to help me-”

“And, I am helping. Y’know patience is a virtue, toots.”

Gloved hands trail across the exposed skin, groping at it. Instinctively.

“Hiding this away? That’s a bit of a shame really; you’re awfully soft down here. Easy on the eyes,” it’s nothing but a whisper now, hints of mirth present - he hasn’t finished playing with you yet. So naive. He digs his fingertips into the fat of your thighs, stroking up and down leisurely.

“Stop. Please, I don’t-”

But, the plea goes unheard, blatantly, and he carries on the conversation, purposefully oblivious to your growing unease.

“You see, I had a dream similar to this. This exact situation, toots. Little ‘ole you trapped by your own stupidity. Maybe the Entity, with the whole eldritch shtick going on, might’ve granted me a little blessing. What do you think? And, it’s no real fun if only one of us is consenting, no? Might as well cut me some slack and make it a bit easier; but then again, I love when you play hard to get. So mean, aren’t you? Now, first things first, call me Danny.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #kinktober with qtipcottonbuds #dead by daylight #dead by daylight ghostface #ghostface #DBD #DBD Ghostface #dbd smut #jed olsen #danny johnson #gender neutral character #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral insert #ghostface x reader #ghostface x gender neutral reader #ghostface x male reader #ghostface x female reader

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qtipcottonbuds · 2 years

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𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙏𝙊𝘽𝙀𝙍 '𝟮𝟯 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙀 [HATE SEX + DEEPTHROATING]

just wanted to say, this is quite mean, please bear that in mind. Vv short too soz xoxo

warnings ;; possible mild language, gagging, dry heaving, oral sex, dubcon, noncon, (this is a roleplay between the pair of you, so this is a negotiated kink xoxo), degradation and humilation, hate sex, deepthroating, dacryphilia, no aftercare here soz xoxo

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗘 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

You irritated him, to put it bluntly.

Sunny smiles and always eager to please, expecting nothing in return, biting the bullet and protecting your so-called friends willingly from his blade, and ultimately never failing to take it in your stride, dusting yourself off and continuing onwards; it got under his skin, clawing and hateful, simmering. Whatever it was, it was far from patient, but it was forgiving in nature, tolerant and mindful of the right time. But, each time he’d catch line of sight of you, it would begin to bubble again, the cycle repeating.

It was repetitive in nature, the focus of his thoughts. Prioritising on nothing other than the honest thought of ruining you. Entirely. For yourself, for anyone, for everyone.

Thrusting deeper, with each roll of his hips knocking harshly into your chin, you retch on his cock. It’s sloppy, nothing appealing or attractive about it - if anything, it was dehumanising, watching on, you, being reduced to nothing but a plaything. A whore, maybe. Something to use time and time again - used goods for him only. But, the sight warmed something inside of him, curling and coiling in his lower stomach, a different sensation to that of the feeling he’d get watching you run. This was something else entirely - hot and heavy.

All-consuming.

Retching once again, the engorged head of his cock drives deeper into your throat, forcing itself beyond your tonsils and uvula, nudging playfully; you, weeping from the onslaught. Each thrust, accompanied by any lack of remorse or care, leaves you unable to come back up for a gasp of humid air, water-logged soil coating your knees. Deep exhales exit your nostrils, the air brushing up against his pubic bone as wiry hairs, somewhat neat, brush up against your chin, almost chafing.

“You make me sick, y’know that, toots? And, I usually don't. I’ll tolerate people - civility, if you will. But, mh- fuck, if you don’t piss me the fuck off.”

He maintains a tight grasp on the crown of your head, gloved fingers interlocking, threading through messy tufts of sweat-soaked hair. Curling and hooking themselves into the roots. Debauched, copious amounts of thick pre-cum and saliva coat the entirety of your chin and the corners of your lips, dribbling and pooling into the soft slots of muscle. It’s more than clear that you’re struggling for air, grasping haphazardly onto his worn trousers, marred by dry bloodstains, digging into the fabric.

“God, I fuckin’ hate you. Playing dumb, like you didn’t ask for this.”

Hauling you off of his cock, strands of saliva beading from your swollen mouth, he tilts his head down towards you, smiling underneath his mask. Pitiful. The hacking cough you let out the moment you’re dragged from his sex, it’s wet and harsh, deep wheezing gasps seeking for air, alongside the sniffling, messy and thick - most likely having blocked your sinuses completely. He was drunk on it, how could he not? Being able to finally wipe off that recognisable, approachable smile off of your lips, and to be replaced with something else - it was your undoing, finally. The fall from your high horse.

The moment your eyes, doey and dumb, look up at him questioningly (as if he’d stop, let you go with a slight pat on the back for being so brave) he forces you back onto his cock once more, thick and heavy between his thighs.

“C’mon, toots, I never said we were finished.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #kinktober with qtipcottonbuds #dbd #dead by daylight #DBD Ghostface #dead by daylight ghostface #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen #gender neutral character #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral insert #dbd smut #ghostface x gender neutral reader #ghostface x reader #ghostface x male reader #ghostface x female reader

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qtipcottonbuds · 2 years

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𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 '𝟭𝟲 ; 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗦𝗨𝗡 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗡 [CNC + STUCK IN WALL]

a little gift for @lovinglyselfish thank u so much for this idea, you absolute genius my bro <333333 this is technically a prelude to one of the other upcoming kinktober entries yes yes, i will also link it here also mayb this wwas too long oh hoo boy anyhoo I FINALLY DID IT. Am I embarrassed yes. But it's 2 in da morning. Whatevs

warnings ;; CNC, dubcon, (this is a roleplay), robophilia, robotfucking, possible mild language, stuck in wall, fingering, oral sex, fear play, worker!reader, reader is scared of the dark too, cumflation, excessive cum, hinting at a glory hole situation, uhhhh oh yes dacryphilia, i think thats it for now ??, also praise kink and petnames etc

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗣𝗢𝗟𝗬!𝗦𝗨𝗡+𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗡 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

Of course, it naturally seems to be that when it’s allegedly ‘too late’ most realisations come to light, or rather stab you in the back. A double-edged sword. You’d opted to take on the graveyard shifts, swapping them for the daytime shifts you’d originally been scheduled to work on - it wasn’t anything to bring home about. Aside from the lecture given to you by one of the higher-ups that even when working after-hours on a day shift, it wouldn’t contribute towards after-hours pay. If anything, the supposed after-hours payment was a complete scam for the newer workers in the Complex.

An easy way to get more done with less hassle. What a load of shit. Sure enough, working the graveyard shifts allowed you a higher pay raise - and God knew you needed it - the original payment from the prior shift you were on barely covered insurance for questionable injuries.

Worn out, you unintentionally allow yourself to be caught off guard by the overwhelming bright lights occupying the Daycare Centre, almost blinding. In any other case, you’d be more aware, noting not to look up when easing yourself off the padding flooring - but it was late. Probably past midnight. You weren’t exactly used to these shifts. This being the first one of many more yet to come. You liked to think you’d get used to it - at some point, practice made perfect, regardless.

You did have to admit, the new working hours weren’t all bad, if you had room for some honesty. The animatronics, you had yet the pleasure of meeting, both offered some form of company at least. Being both alone, and in the dark, was something you could never bring yourself to get accustomed to. You’d suspected it was nothing more than a childhood fear, something to grow out of as you grew older, but it stuck firmly. If anything, it grew more intense; the fear of the unknown. The feeling of something being there. Maybe you didn’t have to see it, catch a glimpse of something moving about, away from your line of sight. But, it was the feeling of knowing something could be there. The feeling of feeling something there.

Wiping down and disinfecting the toys, no doubt having been touched or better yet, coated in substances you’d prefer not to think about (especially in the production of how they came to be, exiting a child’s body) you finish up, finally, squirting the disinfectant spray for one last time onto the scrub. A small touch up over the surface of the front desk.

Setting them down, you sigh. The term graveyard shift, wasn’t exactly an understatement when you thought about it. Your body ached. In more places you considered plausible. Yet, the quicker you got the job done, the easier it would be to head home and sleep for at least the next century. You could at least offer yourself a small break, you muse.

As you prepare to gather your belongings from underneath the main desk within the Center, you pause, catching on to the shade of an obscenely pink plastic ball from the ballpit, just near the entrance of The Cove. It wasn’t that you had any personal vengeance against the colour pink, or any of the selected colours within the Daycare Center (being nothing more than visual simulation for the little ones). It was more that they weren’t exactly gentle on the eyes. Close enough to migraine inducing from the vibrancy. No doubt some of the little children throughout the day had brought them in there. The entrance, near enough to a perfect circle, was just wide enough to crawl through. But, it was dark. Too dark. The soft fairy lights used for decoration had been turned off a few hours ago. Something about saving electricity - a fair enough point.

You contemplate for a short while, exhaling loudly. It wouldn’t hurt putting a few more plastic balls away - there were roughly around 10 to around 20 of them at the most, nothing too heavy. But, it was dark. It wasn’t the most appealing of situations, regardless of how small the hideaway was. There was no source of light occupying The Cove, aside from the overhead lighting cutting through the entry point partially.

Nibbling on the inside of the cheek, you shift your weight from side to side.

Quickly striding over (fear fueling your confidence more than anything), you kneel down, leaning into the circular crevice. You’d prefer not to spend any time in that area longer than you needed to. Five minutes at most if you jogged back to the main desk. Mindful of your shoulders bumping into the plush material, you reach in further, blindly palming around until the cool plastic connects with your hand. Latching on to it, you continue the process, taking out one ball at a time, steadying yourself. Nearly done. Squinting, you note there’s one ball further in than the rest, just about illuminated by the light seeping in.

You could just leave it there. No one would truly notice, most likely until at least the next morning. Yet, you knew, begrudgingly, that even if you had proceeded with leaving it there, you couldn’t risk any mistakes. Not at least on your first night on a new shift - what would that say about you? You needed the pay - you couldn’t risk the possibility of having your check being docked over something so trivial.

You tap your hands along the smooth material of the entrance, debating.

“Just one more, that’s all. Then you can rest.”

Exhaling deeply, you lean in for a final time, stretching further in. The entrance walls dig uncomfortably into either side of your ribs, hiking up your work shirt. Abruptly, you find your weight leaning more onto your upper half, leaving you unbalanced - much quicker than you’d anticipated.

Attempting to pull yourself back with the guidance of the entry point, you find yourself tilting further, having to support yourself reflexively, hands planted firmly on the cushy material - the plastic ball rolling farther in, engulfed entirely in the darkness.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

You try to breathe through your nose calmly. In. Out. In and out.

This was no biggie; you’d just overestimated yourself, that’s all. There wasn’t exactly much to the hideout (according to what you were told), mainly occupied by plushies of varying sizes. Nothing more than a safe space. Without the lights on. The majority of the light had now been overshadowed by your shoulders and head, only just filtering through the sides of your neck. Sweat begins to collect in the middle of your hands, hot and balmy, and you opt for shifting your weight onto your knees, internalising thanking the management who gave the green light for the padding flooring; the plausibility of being stuck here longer than you believed, becoming a real possibility.

Pushing backwards, with more urgency this time, you allow your shoes to dig into the flooring, giving some leeway for space as you attempt to twist out of the small hole - you shoulders hunching up together uncomfortably, elbows unable to move, limited by the only space they’d been occupying prior.

Who exactly would still be here? As far as you knew, you were the only one on the said shift, on the said ground floor of the Complex. If anyone else was working this late, they’d at least be working within another sector of the building entirely. The only chance of another hired employee stumbling across you would be nothing more than a coincidence, and that was excluding the possibility of them not even being able to hear you behind the double-glazed glass.

Vanessa; she’d normally finish up around a quarter to midnight, after doing a patrol, both on the security cameras and on foot - and it was already well past the time you’d arrived here initially. Rolling your wrists, allowing a brief break from the strain, you conclude that the only real nearby available help, at the very least, were the animatronics themselves. Either one of the two - Sun or Moon.

Sun, he was somewhat unnerving, his looming presence of being at least over 8ft tall did initially startle you. And was during the daytime shifts. Although he was mainly jovial, a natural part of his coding system - he was eager to please, eager to learn. Sweet in personality, overall. Moon, on the other hand - your constant fear of the dark did nothing to truly help your possible future interactions with him. You’d only briefly encountered him once, hiding away in the shadows on the ceiling, suspended by wires and bolts. He seemed nice (you hoped at least), you had no real reason to make any judgement but - he was absolutely fucking terrifying in the dark.

Sucking up your pride (the urge to remain quiet and pretend you’d never even involved yourself in such a stupid situation for a first time shift), you weakly call out, almost sheepish.

“Is, uh, is anyone back there? Hello?” Panic begins to creep into your voice, growing louder in volume. You were becoming increasingly aware of time, knowing that at every even hour, the power breakers would switch off. “Hello? If anyone can hear me, at least, could you help me, please? Hello?”

Nothing. Fuckfuckfuck.

You were okay, you were going to be okay - this was nothing more than a slight blip, a hold up.

Yet, the passing of time, from where you’d started your shift and had gotten stuck, had begun to bleed into one. Every so often, your eyes would drift, just about on the cusp of sleep. You were okay. It was just dark, nothing more, nothing less. The shadows in the corners luckily left nothing to the imagination, engulfing the majority of the given space into one black mass.

Blinking, you hear the faint whirring of fans and the heavy padding of feet somewhere within the Center. It’s dull, repetitive, a sleep-addled brain unsure of whereabouts it was coming from entirely - but you opt, albeit sleepily, to call out once more.

“Hello?” It’s slurred, weak. “Is… that you, Sun? M’stuck. I don’t… I can’t get out. Could, could you help me, please?”

“Ah! Hello! You’re the pretty new assistant, aren’t you, sunshine? Of course I can help you, silly! Sillysillysilly. It’s what I’m here for.”

Cylindrical fingers, soft and padded, tentatively grasp around your waist. And yet, it’s only until Sun allows his palms to rest on your hips, you acknowledge just how large his hands truly are. Dear God. Each of his fingertips meet across your lower stomach, thumbs kneading your lower back reassuringly - palms large enough to encompass your stomach entirely.

You were finally going to get out. To go home, brush off the simple mistake and get a much needed sleep.

In spite of the short relief at the thought of being freed, Sun’s fingers skim over the bottom of your work shirt, flicking up the fabric, curiously. His fingers, although coated in a plushy silicone material (for the benefit of preventing accidents), are cool to the touch, not too warm, but not too uncomfortable either to squirm away.

Still, the animatronic had still made no inclination to pull you out as of yet.

It could be that he was just surveying the situation, that’s all. Looking for the easiest way to pull you out without allowing you to be harmed, is what you tell yourself silently.

Sun’s hands still linger. They trail lower and lower, curling around the belt hoops of your slacks, tugging at the fabric.

“Suh- Sun? Is everything okay back there? You… You haven’t pulled me out yet?” The longer the silence draws out in response to your question, the more the growing unease settles heavily in your stomach.

Why hadn’t he pulled you out yet?

“You’re so soft, fragile. Plush - compared to me. Sososososo small! Little thing. Pretty sweet thing. All for me.”

“What?”

“Tiny and pretty, so small in my hands. Well-behaved.”

“Sun, I’d like for you to get me out now… Please? If that’s alright? I need to get home-” You’re more alert now. You don’t like the dark.

He hushes you softly, accompanied by the humming of his sun rays most likely rotating, “Shh. None of that now, sunshine. We don’t talk in our outdoor voices, do we? No; nononono we don’t. That’s naughty. Indoor voices only. Only.”

It’s phrased as a command, rather than as a question - with no room for argument.

Panicking, noticing his presence more closer to you than you anticipated, you struggle in his hold, legs kicking and thrashing about. You needed to leave. Get out of whatever this fucking was. You wanted to go home.

A palm jolts away from your waist, firmly encasing your ankle.

“Sunshine.” You halt in your movements, his voice taking on a deeper tone, breaking with static. “That, that, wasn’t very nice. Was it?”

A meek ‘no’ slips out before you could stop yourself. You couldn’t see - at all. To some extent, you were grateful for it, not being able to see the permanent drawn up smile positioned from cheek to cheek behind you, milky white eyes, too big in proportion to be considered something wholly human, but human enough to recognise the sentiment of certain emotions flitting through his optics.

You couldn’t see - but you could feel him. Behind you. Looming.

“I won’t ask you again.” A threat. You consider briefly fighting back - but what good would that do, truly? You were limited by your humanity, and him, it, whatever this was, was beyond that of a human. The bruising hold Sun had left on your legs would no doubt leave marks for days at most.

Sun supplies no response in return to the slight whimper you let out, instead, continuing on, his hands returning to where they originally had settled - metallic thumbs hooking around belt hoops once more, and shimmying your work slacks downwards. Fine hairs across the expanse of your thighs instinctively raise upwards at the sensation of cool air hitting your skin.

He was far from gentle.

He’s humming now, a tune you can’t say you’re too familiar with, and proceeds to trail his fingertips over the bare skin, up towards your underwear, rubbing over the outline of your sex. As if he was studying it, acquainting himself with your anatomy.

“Sososososo soft. Delicate. Made for me. A toy.” The last part glitches out, nothing more than an electric warble.

Hooking around the material of your underwear, the fabric strains from the force, sex now bare, embarrasingly so, and Sun, Sun, is nothing near to gentle. Mechanical hands follow around the surface of your rim, feeling across the muscle for a moment or two, before forcefully breaching in, dry and cold. It hurts. It fucking hurts. There’s no room to breathe, letting out a choked gasp of air, as his fingers bear down deeper and deeper, curling and rotating, searching.

Biting down harshly on your forearm, compelling yourself to avoid honing in on the burning pain, Sun carries on, almost jovially, twisting and spreading his two forefingers apart in a scissoring motion.

It hurts. It hurts and hurts and hurts.

“So warm, wet! All for me. Pretty and warm and lovely and-”

Unable to hold back the drawn out whine, bubbling in your throat, you just about hear the whirring and whooshing of a contraption sliding open, accompanied by a slight hhhhhssssh! and a thick, silicone textured tendril, sloppy and coated in an unknown liquid, brushes up against the fat of your thighs.

It feels like forever and an eternity.

“Wanna fill you up, sunshine, breed and breed, fillfillfill and fill you up just right! A gorgeous, little dolly just for me. For us. Love you, always - always loved you. Watched you, sunshine; talking with the parents, guiding the children if they needed help. Sosososo helpful, so sweet. Good little service worker. Servicing me. Us.”

You wait for him to stop. For it to end.

And yet he doesn’t stop. It doesn’t stop. Sun continues to spill and spill and spill himself into you, thick and searing hot, whining helplessly; your stomach beginning to paunch from the volume, settling heavily in your tummy.

Unbearably warm and syrupy, you cringe at the feeling of the liquid seeping between your thighs, starting to cool and stick from the cold air.

Eyes glossy, you barely notice the feeling of him guiding himself back out, a slight surge of liquid landing on the padded flooring with a wet squelch! in doing so. You can faintly hear the rustling of fabric behind you - Sun casually tucking himself back into his loose fitting pants, but you’re all too oblivious to the chilled sensation of neon marker pens gliding across your heated skin - crudely drawn arrows all directed towards a specific spot.

You hardly take note of the said warmth of his presence leaving you, overstimulated and fucked dumb from the varying sensations - time once again passing. Merging into one and all the same. Joined by nothing but the darkness, you sag, mumbling weakly for ‘help’. You weren’t entirely sure if help would even reach you at this point - if anything, it was more for your own comfort, knowing at least you could hear your own voice, grounding yourself.

Until there’s a slight chiming of high pitched bells, jingling.

The strain in your neck, slack and weak, pulled forwards from gravity, becomes too much to handle, and you glance upwards, only to directly look onto two pin prick dots - a vibrant red, peering back at you from the darkness. You just wanted to go home.

Sniffling, you writhe, hastily urging yourself to get out, your shoulders burning from the movement.

“I can’t, I can’t. Please, I won’t tell anyone, I promise - just, please… Please help me get out of here. It hurts.”

The bells jingle in tandem, Moon crawling on all fours towards you from the shadows, and he coos. He fucking coos.

“Shh. Shhhhhh. Sun didn’t take care of you, did he? Left you messy. Messymessymessy indeed. And, you will go home, little one.” A smooth thumb rubs over your bottom lip, his faceplate unbearably close to yours, smiling. “Soon. Soon. Your words don’t match the sign left on your back. Not at all. You’ll go home when we’re finished. We’re not done yet.”

You make an attempt to respond, only to gurgle instead; Moon drives his forefingers into your mouth, as if aiming to reach your uvula, until you ultimately gag on reflex, drenching the digits in saliva.

As he draws his fingers from within your mouth, you immediately hunch over, coughing harshly, eyes blurred - your workplace badge, brightly coloured, now discarded onto the floor with an annoyingly chipper motto of ‘Hi, how may I help you?” with a neatly printed smiley face.

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qtipcottonbuds · 2 years

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𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙏𝙊𝘽𝙀𝙍 '𝗢𝟭 ; 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝘼𝙄𝙕𝘼𝙒𝘼 [SOMNOPHILIA + BODYWORSHIP]

a request by @idiotobservator - and the first entry in this year's kinktober event >:D i’m a little rusty sorry >:((

warnings ;; somnophilia, hints of body worship, dom/sub dynamics, mild language, werewolf!aizawa, scent marking, primal elements as well as hints to CNC, this is just a scene, please remember that, thank you <3 etc

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗔𝗜𝗭𝗔𝗪𝗔 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

He’s still drunk in the haze of sleep, eyes half-lidded.

Sleep refuses to take him and he contemplates switching the fan on momentarily, uncomfortable with the building heat inside of him - the beginnings of a rut in his veins. Even with each subtle turn from left to right under the covers trying to find a comfortable position, his body heats up at the mildest of things, sweat coating his skin in a light sheen. Scratching lightly at his stubble, Shouta pulls himself closer into you, sliding his hands to rest around your waist, and nosing into the crook of your neck. He could hold out a little longer, is what he mentally reiterates; ignoring the way his cock sits heavily between his thighs, his glans pressing up against the skin and smearing thick pre, and the growing urge to pop a fat knot just from your scent.

You’d both made an agreement prior to this (specifically a month in preparation), that he could do what he wished whilst you were dead to the world - and he’d albeit, reluctantly agreed - the thought was hot, but, he couldn’t ignore the nagging guilt at the thought of doing so. You were asleep. Asleep, helpless, and unaware of what he truly wanted to do to you. He was beyond that of a human, and instinctive, primal-like urges came to him more easily than the normal human being. Shouta was afraid of losing control.

How could he not? He wasn’t the most vocal of individuals when it came to admiration and affections, yet, any slight sliver of skin that might’ve been on show, maybe with the raise of a simple t-shirt and a stretch in the morning, left him hungry. Needy.

Shifting once again, Shouta bites down on his bottom lip stifling the grunts rumbling out of his throat. In doing so, he tongues against his aching gums, itching to latch onto something, anything - circling across the front of his canines and molars. He could at least offer himself some comfort, right? You had agreed.

“Fucking hell…” His voice still raspy from sleep.

Tightening his hold around your hips, he silently gives in momentarily, opting for subtle, gentle rolls of his hips from behind, seeking out some form of friction. Nothing too drastic, too desperate to the point where it would disturb you, still in the throes of a deep sleep. He wasn’t some dog, mindlessly rutting up against you.

(But, the telltale words of ‘liar,’ at the back of his mind echo, ‘nothing more, and nothing less’).

Shouta, however, was struggling to focus on anything else; struggling to maintain composure with each thrust into your underwear, leaving trails of sticky pre across the now dampening fabric. Everything was overwhelmingly heightened, the edges of his line of sight hazing over with black. The friction between his fat cockhead, swollen and drooling, against the material of your underwear was wonderful. Perfect. Stretching and scratching alongside the miserably heated flesh, eager for more.

(More, and more and more-)

You jerk forwards suddenly, and he pauses immediately, waiting for anything; only for you to let out a string of incoherent mumbles, with a few noticeable words, mainly being his name. Shit. You settle back into place gradually, shifting your ankles and interlocking them underneath the covers, brushing against his own.

He continues once again, sliding a sweaty palm in-between his own thighs, an attempt to soothe the ache at the base of his cock, sore and reddened - the familiar signs of a knot beginning to form. The same irritation intensifies across his gums, and the repetitive soothing of his tongue against his teeth doesn’t work any longer, if anything, reminding of the lingering need to give in.

To let go.

Shouta is all the more aware of how much louder his grunts are becoming, moreso noticeable to the contrasting silence of the room, still in the early hours of the morning; but he needs, he wants and wants and wants-

The rolls of his hips increasingly become harsher, as does his grip on your waist, drawing himself closer and closer towards you, rutting helplessly, snarling into your shoulder blades. His pre-cum continues to leak in a heavy stream, beading slowly down the side of his cock and pooling between the crevices of his fingers with each jerk of the hand.

His ears were filled with nothing but the recognisable drone of white noise, oblivious to the confused whines, overwhelmed by the static, and instead replaced by the thrum of his own pulse - obsessed with the thought of marking you with his scent.

You had agreed, right?

#kinktober #kinktober with qtipcottonbuds #kinktober 2022 #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bnha aizawa #shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta #mha aizawa #gender neutral reader #gender neutral character #aizawa x gender neutral reader #aizawa x male reader #aizawa x female reader #bnha smut #aizawa smut

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qtipcottonbuds · 2 years

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𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙏𝙊𝘽𝙀𝙍 '𝗢𝟱 ; 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙃𝘼𝙒𝙆𝙎 [BREEDING KINK + CREAMPIE]

a little self-indulgent, and the fifth entry of kinktober - bear in mind too, this is like mid rut so he ain’t gonna pop his eggs into you just yet xoxo.

warnings ;; breeding kink, creampie, ruts, mentions of abo dyanmics, mild language, feral!hawks, rough sex, cum play, cum eating, elements of somnophilia, hinting at face fucking, oral sex, predator/prey dynamics, (bearing in mind regardless of gender or sex, he wants you to carry his clutch and you can, because it’s bloody eggs u silly goose, slight implications to oviposition etc.

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗛𝗔𝗪𝗞𝗦 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

In other circumstances, it might’ve been interpreted as something romantic, tender, if it wasn’t engulfed by the staggering need to mount, to breed. For you to carry his clutch. The desire to bury himself in-between your thighs, suckling at your sex desperately; lapping at juices, coated in both your own and his musk of sex and rut. To be inside; remaining there as long as you allowed him to do so, steadily filling you up with his pre-cum initially, palming at your lower abdomen, watching on, patient in watching it swell with his seed. It was unbearable - and that was one way to put it lightly.

His cock ached. Balls consistently drawn upwards, reddened and swollen with the volume of seed being produced even at a slow pace, his body was in overdrive, both a conscious and subconscious effort to ensure nothing was wasted. Either that, or overcompensating with more in case the first take wasn’t successful.

Soothing over irritated gums, Keigo pauses, exhaling harshly.

Keigo hadn’t intended for it to happen so early in the month, most likely biologically pushed forward by the building stress at the Hero's Commission. Although, even with the increasing pressure from his work, you’d been incredibly accommodating, so understanding.

Allowing him to freely circle around the perimeter of the house, an instinct, eyeing for any potential threats; the smothering possessiveness present the moment you’d return from a shift, the minute a foot was through the threshold of the door, communicating in nothing but sharp trills and chirps. Observant in picking up any unknown scents, and in the process, mouthing across the expanse of your neck, grooming you.

Pride was something that came all too naturally to him, in both looks and prowess, but he was all the more aware of how his eyes were resembling more of that of golden slits, highlighted further by his birth marks continuing to darken around the rim of his under eye. Now sharper, broader. Predatory.

Beyond that of a human.

Keigo didn’t feel human. Whatever it was, was scratching beneath the surface of his skin, itching away slowly. Primal and unknown. It was a struggle to even communicate with words, his vocal cords attempting to formulate words, but instead opting to let out raspy grunts and low warbles.

Reassurance; offered usually with comforting words and kind touches, was replaced wholly by a rough tongue, soothing over welts and lovebites. The language he was familiarized with, was now blurred, rattling around his skull. Simple syllables unable to hold on to one another and form and conjoin into others - but finally, he manages, something, choking it out.

“‘Wan’ take… care ‘o you, prop’ly. Mate.”

It’s just about comprehensible, but a coo nonetheless. Reciprocity to your whimpers.

Overstimulated and overwhelmed, you writhe, weak from the rough sex - your body now seemingly catching up with your brain. Nuzzling into your skin, salty on his tongue, Keigo guides your thighs open with ease, letting out soft chirps. Previous loads, now cooling, stick to your skin, thick and gooey.

The moment you’d returned home from your shift, you’d been brutally fucked across the shared apartment - a ritual scent marking of territory. In his rut-addled brain, he knew you needed a break, having done so well in taking him, inviting him - Keigo just hoped, underneath the pheromones and animalistic mothertongue he’d been reduced to, you could understand somewhat.

Trilling once more, Keigo noses against your pubic bone, before leaving gentle kisses on your abdomen.

An apology.

Leaning back up onto his heels, your thighs still spread apart around his waist, he softly tugs on both of your ankles, positioning you underneath him - not the first time, and certainly not the last. But, you needed rest above all else.

Sweat-slicked and tousled strands of hair brush up against your face, pressing kisses at the corners of your lips, swollen and shiny, before burrowing himself into the crook of your neck, tucking the pair of you deeper into his nest.

“...Sleep.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #kinktober with qtipcottonbuds #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #mha hawks #bnha hawks #keigo takami #gender neutral character #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #hawks x gender neutral reader #hawks x male reader #hawks x female reader #keigo x gender neutral reader #keigo x male reader #keigo x female reader

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qtipcottonbuds · 2 years

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𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙏𝙊𝘽𝙀𝙍 𝟭𝟲 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙆𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐𝙆𝙄 [FREE USE + DACRYPHILIA]

this one is a bit short yes yes

warnings ;; slight dacryphilia, free use, possible mild language, slight scent and musk kink really, possibly sub/dom dynamics, aged-up prohero katsuki !! etc

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗞𝗔𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗜 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

Sweat and smoke is heavy in the air; the scent and taste filling your lungs and on your tongue, harsh and bitter.

It’s something you’ve become accustomed to, associated with the presence of Katsuki, the sound of his footfalls passing through the threshold of the doorframe and into the decorated hallways, filled with small ornaments and knicknacks. This time, the musk is accompanied instead with his chest firmly against your back. Buckles and straps attached to his uniform had dug into your shoulders as toned arms (smeared with what you assumed to be ash and dirt) wrapping around your waist, his thumbs sliding below the already loosened drawstring, tugging them downwards.

It isn’t desperation, you note, something more akin to anger in his movements.

You know better than to ask, not when Katsuki’s like this. This is far from the usual lovemaking, sweet words and nothing’s - if anything, looking back at it, you’d just wish you’d have been able to finish up your hot drink. Grunting, making light work of the drawstring, your loose trousers had pooled around your ankles onto tiled flooring, a strong palm planted flat alongside the small of your back - a precursor, something you know all too well.

“Face down. Now.”

You’d complied, although hesitant, and allowed yourself to lay flat on the kitchen counter, elbows bent for some sort of leverage. You’d turned your head over your shoulder, a question on your tongue, only to have Katsuki’s eyes immediately meet your own, dilated and blown back, a darkened red near enough to black, bitten lips in a thin line.

Those words were the last coherent words he’d said since - or rather, any words you’d been able to truly acknowledge, having been pressed harshly into the counter, one hand hooked into your hair, clenching and jerking back, pulling your face from the confines of your arms, muffling any noises. The fabric of your pajamas was the only thing managing to absorb the tears, rubbing up into puffy eyes, wet and swollen - you couldn’t help it.

Katsuki was girthy; velvety and warm, each roll of his hips dragged along your insides, ribbed and bumpy. Your thighs would naturally part, back dipping ever-so-slightly to accommodate the thickness, plugged up with swollen cock.

Whimpering from a particular thrust, twitching from the slow pull back, the fat glans just resting at the opening, Katsuki digs his blunt nails into your scalp, jerking your head back once again, eyeing you carefully.

“What was that - you cryin’ on my cock?”

And you want to plead, insist that you weren’t crying, and if anything it was a small hiccup from earlier on. But, you and him both know you’re a terrible liar, whether stuffed full or not - but you try regardless, shakily attempting to force the words out.

“‘Suki- no, m’not-”

Yet, a grin is already pulling upon his lips, toothy and wide, eyes narrowing.

Rolling his hips back inside, albeit more aggressively, you keen out, a few tears slipping out as you adjust to the stretch - and Katsuki pauses, remaining stationary, his lips brushing against yours.

“Answer me again - you cryin’ on my cock? I don’t like liars.”

Your lips part to form a protest, a ‘no’, but a stray water droplet slides down into your cupid’s bow before dampening his upper lip, and you’ve nothing to prove.

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qtipcottonbuds · 2 years

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𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 ‘𝟭𝟱 ; 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 [MIRROR SEX + SPANKING]

dis one is a little spooky and a bit shortish. yes yes.

warnings ;; possibly mild language, leading up to mirror sex, spanking, mild impact play, somewhat dom/sub dynamics, use of mirrors unintentionally, frottage/dry humping, is toji who you think he is ??? what even is toji bro ??

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

Another firm slap strikes against the supple of your thigh, immediately flaring up with heat the moment his large palms connect with the bare skin, goosebumps beginning to prickle in the process, tingling and spreading outwards.

A stern warning.

Situated on his lap, rutting your sex up on a jean-clad thigh bordering that of pure desperation, Toji slides his hands down towards your hips, settling there to guide you - a gentle reminder, that he had you. With each desperate roll of your hips, becoming increasingly frantic, you find yourself slumping against his chest. Comforting and secure - a grounding point - you were beginning to lose yourself in the haze of lust and you were all more aware of it; Toji’s words and soft praises blurring into one, muffling into the background entirely. It was good, so good.

Nuzzling into the crook of his neck and collarbone, nudging your cheek back and forth (a habit you found yourself doing more and more lately), you shyly glance up, peeking at the mirror slanted behind you on the wall. It wasn’t anything special; nothing too flashy to prove a point. A plain, simple mirror at that. Seeing yourself in such a state, hair mussed and lips swollen, even with a tiny glimpse had you curling into Toji’s frame once again. It was shameful, embarrassing - seeing yourself so debauched already. But, one look, a good look, wouldn’t hurt, right?

Just a quick glance, and nothing more.

Studying the outline of the mirrors frame, chipped and worn from most likely years of being moved around, hung up, and held, your gaze finally falls onto the center of the reflective surface, and it’s only a few, meager seconds that your line of sight falls onto what would have allegedly been the toned back of Toji’s stature, highlighted by the tight shirt he’d been wearing prior. Dilated eyes, near enough to pools of complete black, stare back at you, directly - the all too recognisable smirk playing upon scarred lips, chapped and dry. And in a way, you find yourself becoming cold at the sight; reflections move, they follow - they don’t have a will of their own.

Not that you knew of.

Sure enough, even into adulthood, you’d have the habit of looking into mirrors closely, eyelashes just brushing up against the reflective surfaces - waiting, watching. More of a childhood dream; playfully wanting to catch a small glimpse of your reflection of guard, moving your eyes back and forth, precisely checking again and again for the mirrored image of yourself to slip up. You were all the more aware of any potential ‘slip ups’ being nothing other than your own eyes struggling to catch up with the said movement, failing to recognise it - whether it be your own eyes line of focus tilted at a different angle than your own, before sliding back into place.

The cold sensation sinks further into your stomach, weighing there heavily.

Slowly, and albeit stiffly, you nuzzle your forehead into his collarbone once more, attempting to subtly play off what you’d just witnessed, trying to ignore the feeling of another’s eyes on your form.

Yet, the said Toji you’d been situated on, not the reflective mirrored image in front of you, already meets your own gaze. The same confident smile on his lips, as he tilts his chin down at you, eyes blown.

“You see somethin’? You look a little spooked - I felt you stiffen up. I’m not that scary, am I?”

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qtipcottonbuds · 2 years

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𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙏𝙊𝘽𝙀𝙍 '𝟭𝟯 ; 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙄𝙕𝙐𝙆𝙐 [BREEDING + OLPHACTOPHILIA]

olphactophilia is the fancy term for scent kink >:D now deku is like built like a unit in this. im talking like one of those marine strong men they they they OH - little cheesy with reference to full moons in this soz

warnings ;; slight a/b/o dynamics, aged up pro-hero!deku, breeding kink, solo masturbation, underwear sniffing, mentions of knots, possible mild language, alpha!izuku, werewolf!izuku etc

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗜𝗭𝗨𝗞𝗨 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

If there was one thing Izuku hated the most, something that immediately got underneath his skin at the mention of it at any time, was the celestial bodies - the higher beings that had a chokehold on his hormones and sanity.

To some extent, sure enough, he could be a bit grateful (something to be taken lightly with a grain of salt), purely that it occurred once a month. Although, with each progression of the celestial cycle increasing in intensity and strength - the said chokehold, borderline to that of a deathgrip.

Rutting into his hand, curled into a tight fist, tugging on his gradually enlarging knot at the base of his cock, he forces his face into your underwear. Pressing the material up into his lips, wet with saliva, and just short of his nose, mouthing at the fabric, licking wide stripes back and forth - imagining with each lap of his tongue, it would directly align with where your sex would rest against the underwear. He was hooked, addicted to the scent - craving more and more of the taste. Inhaling deeply, taking in and savouring the natural scent of musk, Izuku realises it was sweet, tinged with a slight smell of sweat - most likely having been built up throughout the day.

Maybe the underwear had been pressed up firmly against your sex, outlining it entirely underneath your clothing, leaving nothing to the imagination. Izuku didn’t care for the fine details; as long as you’d been in it, that was all that mattered.

Grunting, he parts his thighs, toned with years of training, indulging in some comfortability - allowing his balls, drawn tight and heavy, to rest on his bedsheets. The pull of gravity from the weight of them sitting, squashed between his inner thighs leaving him unbearably sensitive. Pre-cum continually spills across his thumb and forefingers, steadily dribbling towards the base of his cock.

Tilting his head back, curls falling back with the motion, Izuku exhales once more, eyes half-lidded, drunk on the scent.

Maybe he could dirty the underwear further; smear his scent across the now damp fabric. Coat it with his load, thick and viscous - a little reminder, a marking of territory. He could act nonchalant, playing pretend at the sight of you naively asking him for the whereabouts of your favourite pair of underwear.

(It wasn’t as if you really needed this pair, anyway).

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qtipcottonbuds · 1 year

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𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙏𝙊𝘽𝙀𝙍 '𝟮𝟮 ; 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙐 [SEMI-PUBLIC + CLOTHED SEX]

jealous atsumu when someone won’t take no for a answer for yous lot tbh i rushe dthis o balls

warnings ;; possible mild language, jealousy, jealous sex, semi-public sex, clothed sex (sort of), humiliation and slight degradation, rough-ish sex, atsumu is vulgar in this i apologize etc

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗠𝗨 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

“C’mon, answer it. Wouldn’t wanna keep him waitin,’ sweetheart, would ya?”

The mobile phone continues to buzz atop the bedside table, vibrating against the wood; and it’s irritating, grating at his ears, but more than anything, the bright screen flashing intermittently with both the number, and their name, is what gets Atsumu the most. Always ringing near enough to every hour of everyday - you were too soft, too sweet, brushing them off gently - you didn’t want any confrontation. But, Atsumu knew, he knew first hand their intentions.

It was far from innocent.

Keening into his hand, muffling your whines, you insistently shake your head back at him - maybe if he was in your position, Atsumu would consider responding in the same manner you just had. Resisting initially, and attempting to shrug his palm firmly situated across your lips off to stop him; it was adorable, the eagerness of your will to fight back, to push him off. Yet, only to relax in the said hold, complacent and pliable with each roll of his hips, slow and methodical, sinking deeper, kissing your insides. A perverse pacifier.

(People aren’t kind, and Atsumu is far from kind).

“Well, if you ain’t gonna do it, I’ll do it for ya.”

Leaning downwards and grasping onto the mobile, Atsumu swipes across the call button allowing it to connect; a smile, plastered with ill-intent, on his lips. His gaze is heavy, holding your own, and he can tell you hate it. The helplessness, the fear - a restrained pleading to stop - if anything, it was fueling the fire further.

“So, yer the so-called colleague, yeah? Workin’ with them on that project,'' a hum, masked with civility, “What’s with the confusion, m’sure ya know who I am, right? Most people do, when they listen. Are ya any good at listenin?’ Takin’ in information?”

Easing his grasp across your mouth, patting the side of your cheek affectionately, Atsumu rolls his hips yet again, languidly, the fat glans of his cock angling in such a way you abruptly arch up into the touch, your thighs parting wider, almost eagerly.

“Good, good. I like t’hear that. Love it when people listen, ya’know, makes ya feel heard. Seen. Anyway; I know all about ya. My sweetheart, pretty thing, too nice, too soft - just can’t be mean - but, I can. They told me everythin’. Askin’ ‘em for a date, not leavin’ ‘em alone, even when they said no. That they’ve got a boyfriend. Ya’know what no means, don’t ya?”

Sliding in with an audible squelch, he continues, tutting at the whine you let out.

“Y’wanna know why they were takin’ so long to respond, why they weren’t pickin’ up? ‘Cause we were fuckin,’” the audible spluttering on the other end of the receiver has Atsumu questioning how long he can maintain this facade, playing civil, when he’d rather lay them flat out cold, “I bet, you’ve thought about fuckin’ em too. Haven’t you? Creamin’ yourself over the thought of it, doing sappy shit. I can’t blame ya, I’m the same; but the difference is, I’m the one actually doing it - ya wanna hear it? A little ASMR for ya.”

Thumbing across the circular icon of the ‘speaker’ button, he repositions the mobile directly above the base of his cock, coated in a creamy ring, before dragging his cock back out, resting at the fat slit with a squelch!

Atsumu goes to respond, a petty remark on his lips, but the dial tone that cuts through the line confirms everything.

“I fuckin’ thought as much. Now, where were we, sweetheart?”

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #kinktober with qtipcottonbuds #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #msby jackals #atsumu miya #atsumu smut #gender neutral character #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral insert #atsumu x gender neutral reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu x male reader #atsumu x female reader

286 notes · View notes

qtipcottonbuds · 1 year

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𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙏𝙊𝘽𝙀𝙍 '𝟮𝟰 ; 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙈𝙎𝘽𝙔 𝙅𝘼𝘾𝙆𝘼𝙇𝙎 [MORESOME + BUKKAKE]

m actually really proud of this qofqown, it’s a mess, i had a bit more inspiration as i was a little burnt out >:(( but, i really hope i did i justice trying to work out the friggin positioning @lovinglyselfish dis one is for u stonks

warnings ;; moresome, mild language, double penetration, slight praise kink with degradation, assisted masturbation, bukkake, cumplay, possibly cum eating, marking, slight voyeurism on behalf of one or two of the teammates, belly kink, belly bulge, cumflation sort of, i think thats it for now etc update !!! manager!reader etc

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗠𝗦𝗕𝗬 𝗝𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗔𝗟𝗦 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

“You’re doing so, so well, baby. Servicing the team like this. Taking me, like this.”

Bokuto lies beneath you, on his back, flat atop the bed sheets.

He’s leaving soft kisses across your temple, running a hand through your hair, threading fingertips through the messy tufts; and you, you’re slumped across his bare chest, fucked out of your mind, babbling incoherent nonsense into his skin. Bokuto can just about make out a few words in-between the slurring, the drawn out phrasing of ‘more, please.’

Each thrust, deep-seated and measured, nudges further and farther in, kissing your insides, rubbing up alongside gummy, ribbed walls - in tandem with Atsumu, situated behind you - fat glans, slits weeping, brushing and knocking up against one another.

Abruptly, Atsumu hauls you off from the comfort of Bokuto’s embrace, dragging you upwards by the back of your head. It’s harsh, carnal, and you’re left keening out from the sting. His fingers clench into your hair, tugging on the roots - but, it enables him to keep you stable against his own chest, neck arched, and hands loosely hanging at your sides.

“Messy thing, ain’t ya? An’ Bo, ya can’t hog ‘em all to yourself, sharin’ is carin’, yeah?”

Atsumu swipes the saliva, collecting in the divots of your lips, with his thumb; your chin is decorated in drool, glazing over the skin sloppily, and Atsumu holds his tongue, biting back any crude remarks - it wasn’t as if you were coherent to acknowledge his words. Cognitive functions, or what was left of them, had been rendered temporarily - you, having been reduced to a default of whimpering and airy whines.

“‘Sumu, they do need a little help, y’know? Considering how cock-drunk they are.”

Tilting your head, still lax in his hold, Atsumu guides you to face him, eyeing you carefully, “Ya still in there, ‘lil manager? Too much dick for ya to handle?”

The only response you offer, far from distinguishable, instead jumbled and blurred, is a whine of ‘no.’

You couldn’t even fully register his sentences.

Dismissing the pathetic attempt of an answer, he readjusts his grip in your hair with one hand, the other situated on your hip, Atsumu noses against your jugular, nipping and soothing at the inflamed skin, his eyes meeting with Hinata’s.

“Whaddya think, ‘Sho? Think they need more? Might make ‘em think a ‘lil more clearer.”

Taking the opportunity at the acknowledgement, Hinata wordlessly shoves himself into your chest, burying himself in the heated flesh; lips searching for your nipples, to suckle, to pinch at the buds with his canines, pulling them back and forth teasingly. Rendering them swollen and puffy.

Fisting his cock, unrestrained and firmly, pulling at the skin, he guides the head of his cock, reddened and engorged, over the material of your loose fitting MSBY Jackals jersey (a personal anniversary gift into your first year of managing the team). It had been discarded onto your lap, caught in-between your thighs.

“Uh-huh, mh- give them more and more and more, Atsumu, wanna give them everything.”

Whining high in his throat, Hinata muffles himself in your skin, the steady stream of thick pre-cum increasing in volume, bubbling over his slit.

“So needy; it’s embarrassing.”

Pulling you from Atsumu’s grasp, now having relaxed entirely - his concentration now notably focused on the creamy ring coating both the head and base of his cock, being pushing back and forth with each roll of his hips - Sakusa, kisses you aggressively - there’s no implications of kindness in it whatsoever. It’s pure lust and nothing more.

Biting on your bottom lip, the skin breaking somewhat from the pressure, he takes the incentive to push forward, past your lips; said tongue slides across your teeth, brushing against the divots and crevices, before returning the focus towards your own tongue, sucking harshly. With his palm, Sakusa encases your own hand around his cock, guiding your thumb with his own, to dig into the fat slit, urging more pre-cum to bubble up.

“Hinata’s needy, but you, you’re pathetic,” its murmured, hushed against your lips as he pulls back momentarily, “A so-called, prime example of a manager; a pretty slut to be whored out to the whole team. Maybe, we should do this more often to keep you in check, what do you think?”

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qtipcottonbuds · 1 year

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𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙏𝙊𝘽𝙀𝙍 '𝗢𝟵 ; 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙆𝙐𝙍𝙊𝙊 [SAFEWORDING + COLLARING]

a little bit on the angsty side >:(( (and remember, it is always okay to safeword, no matter what, it’s such an important thing to be aware of - you aren’t letting anyone down, you are the priority in a intense scene).

warnings ;; safewording, collaring, aftercare themes, praising, grounding techniques, mild language, themes of roleplay and exiting a scene, slight talk of said scene.

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗞𝗨𝗥𝗢𝗢 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

“Easy, easy. I’ve got you. You’re okay, baby - m’so proud of you, y’know that?”

Immediately taking you into his arms, pulling you atop his lap into a more comfortable position to rest in, Kuroo guides his palms across your lower back, travelling upwards. Following along the ridges and clefts of skin and bone, his hand finally comes to rest on your nape, rubbing over the metallic collar he’d just locked back into place prior. It had been only a moment's hesitation when he’d checked in with you during the scene - lips parted and offering no clear-cut answer initially, other than a back and forth of ‘I don’t know, I’m sorry,’ had been all he needed to end the said scene.

Nudging his forehead against your own briefly, his line of sight directly with your own, Kuroo brushes his lips up onto your nose and cheeks, peppering chaste kisses. He was aware that you were in the beginning stages of dropping, self-doubt creeping in - something you’d both taken the time to talk about in depth plenty of times before.

“I didn’t- I didn’t ruin this for you, did I? I knew how much you were looking forward to it-”

“No. Fuck no, you couldn’t be more farther from the truth - but this was never about me either, this is about you, above all else - and you haven’t done anything wrong whatsoever. We’d both agreed to try something new, yeah?”

You nod, hesitantly, tucking yourself into the crook of his neck.

“And that something, wasn’t really for you; and that’s completely okay. Regardless of whether it’s something that gets me off - you are my priority, no matter what. You are in control of the scene, when it comes down to it. What you say, goes. If anything, baby, knowing you tried, for me, means an awful lot. That’s all that matters to me. Now, let me spoil you a little, yeah?”

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #kinktober with qtipcottonbuds #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyuu smut #Kuroo Tetsurou #gender neutral character #gender neutral reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #kuroo x gender neutral reader #kuroo x male reader #kuroo x female reader

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qtipcottonbuds · 2 years

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𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙏𝙊𝘽𝙀𝙍 '𝟮𝟲 ; 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙏𝙎𝙐𝙆𝙄𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙈𝘼 [DELAYED GRATIFICATION + ORGASM CONTROL]

a vv bit short this is again

warnings ;; delayed gratification, orgasm control, orgasm denial, mild language, dom/sub dynamics, mean dom elements, begging and humilation kink, a sort of pillow thing here too, sort of size ish difference.my sleepy brain is doodoo balls rn

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗔 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

His glasses are misty, fogged with condensation - the sweat beading across his temples gradually gathering beneath his eyes, pooling in the rims. Working up a sweat with you was something he was already accustomed to; straining muscles, sweat dampening his lower back, acting as a substitute adhesive for his shirt, wet and glued to his body like a second skin - but, this was different. You were shy, intimidated. Submissive.

Nudging his glasses back up with a jerk of the head, now seated back on the bridge of his nose (the official safe zone), he looms over you once more, encompassing your frame entirely. With his hands, worn and calloused, secure on your waist, thumbing over the skin, Kei readjusts your hips, guiding them partially upwards, allowing him to sink deeper. Deeper and deeper. Kei wasn’t small by any means, but the sight of a slight bulge, bulbous and fat, pressing up from within your stomach, was provoking a primitive part of him.

Smoothing a hand over the expanse of your lower stomach, briefly raised by the protrusion, he digs the heel of his palm over it, hissing at the sensation - he was in deep. You’re faring no better either, lips parting and offering nothing but silence and taking comfort in a nearby cushion, fingers grasping into the material firmly.

Looking down through his rims, he pauses in his movements, remaining stationary inside of you - and the reaction is instantaneous. You’re clearly conflicted, held back by the crippling shyness to voice your desire for him to continue, and that, the halt in his movements has you acknowledging how far in he truly was, kissing your insides.

Your eyes meet his, timidly, seeking comforting and shrinking further into the confines of the pillow - embarrassed by your own lust - but no words leave you, rather, a shaky hand reaching towards his face.

A silent olive branch.

Smacking your hand away, Kei sneers, unable to suppress it fully, and leans down, his nose against yours, “Beg. You don’t ask, you don’t get.”

#kinktober #kinktober with qtipcottonbuds #kinktober 2022 #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #kei tsukishima #gender neutral character #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #tsukishima x gender neutral reader #tsukishima x male reader #tsukishima x female reader

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qtipcottonbuds · 2 years

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𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 '𝟭𝟯 ; 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗞𝗜 [SPIT + MONSTERFUCKING]

hello yes this is something. shy tomura, but shy alien tomura teeheeeheheheheh

warnings ;; elements of aphrodisiacs, mild language, use of tentacles, alien!shigaraki, monsterfucking, not so much spit soz, uh oviposition, eggs, aprodiasics or however you spell it, tomura is trying his best whilst horny i prom.

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. Do not repost.

𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗞𝗜 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

He hadn’t intended to have held back for so long - he was all the more aware that he should’ve allowed the process to happen sooner, instead of making things more difficult for himself. He always had a habit of doing so - near enough across the threshold to be seen as self-destructive in nature. But, it was humiliating, especially within an interspecies based relationship - opening up on such a vulnerable level about an upcoming clutch, to a human of all species?

Breeding and rearing young, between both his own species and yours, were two worlds apart entirely. A matter of finding the right place, a safe one at that, reliable and perfect regarding comfortability - no potential risks of any stress in the chosen environment. A planned, meaningful selected area perfect for incubating his young with his chosen partner. If anything, Tomura had planned to avoid freaking you out at all costs - avoiding all potential interactions with what he had below the belt.

To make things worse, the levels of humiliation had reached a fever pitch as you’d returned home from a shift, letting yourself in at the sight of him slouched against the hallway, having been unable to make it any further into your shared home, stumbling into the wall, and slinking down in the journey.

He recalled briefly keening high in his throat, wavering into two different pitches, merging into one, and awkwardly palming against his ovipositor through his slacks, heavily engorged from a lack of relief. Continuing to unbuckle his belt, unlooping it through the jean hoops, his sex had slid out with a pop! slapping up against the expanse of his lower abdomen - the relief immediate. At the time, Tomura knew it was far from appealing - having unintentionally allowed the build up of his brood with no release, it left his ovipositor bulging; one of his eggs, having attempted to make the journey out had rooted itself in the swollen opening, unable to slip out, regardless of the obscene amounts of clear juices, thick and sticky, that had gathered across the fat head. Small oval-shaped eggs bulged against the surface of his balls, distended and puffy from the amount, overwhelmed from the production.

(Why had he allowed it to get this bad again? Right. Work).

You’d just about managed to guide him up from the floor and into a more safer space, your shared bedroom, settling him down onto the bed before his desperation had finally taken hold of him, overflowing and swallowing him whole - you, now on your back, pinned by translucent tendrils varying in thickness and length. His ovipositor, almost turning a deep purple, pushes against your rim, already abused and puffy from the relentless stretching from his tendrils, stretching you further and further to allow his eggs to slip through - a few of the clutch already situated in your lower stomach, bumping together occasionally underneath the stretched skin, hot to the touch.

Your hands shakily had found comfort in rubbing over the warm skin, soothing the clutch.

The initial shyness Tomura had at the thought of engaging in something so primal, raw, with another for the first time had gradually started to fade away, his mind occupied by nothing but static and white noise - his hearing having been reduced to that along the lines of cotton stuffed in his ears. As his brood sloshes heavily in his balls, taut, still filled to the brim and a consuming reminder to breed, a stray tentacle, thin and slick, nudges against your lips. It’s gentle and tentative, brushing back and forth.

Almost questioningly.

Beyond the glossy haze over his eyelids, he barely just makes out your nodding, quick and rushed - a yes - and responds back a low coo.

Hurting.

Pushing past your lips, the tendril strokes along your gums and across the small crevices of your teeth, circling and exploring, before driving farther in, prodding against your tonsils. It taps against the flesh, somewhat experimentally, before continuing once more, settling comfortably in the confines of your throat, flattening against your gag reflex and relaxing. Twitching, the slender tendril gapes briefly, supplying a numbing agent, filled with an aphrodisiac, thick and sweet, seeping down the back of your throat, and past the corners of your lips, pooling there.

In his addled mind of nothing more than mating and breeding, Tomura knows this agent could only do so much for the time being - but it allowed you the relief of a well-deserved break, you’d already taken some of his brood.

Yet, there was so much more to go inside. He wasn’t done.

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qtipcottonbuds · 2 years

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𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙏𝙊𝘽𝙀𝙍 '𝟯𝟭 ; 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝘿𝘼𝙄𝘾𝙃𝙄 [BEGGING + DADDY KINK]

not requested, but a little gift for @idiotobservator <333

warnings ;; themes of begging, daddy kink, slight power imbalance, dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, implied initial cockwarming in the first place, facials, hidden kink discovey on daichi’s part, somewhat religious symbolism etc

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗗𝗔𝗜𝗖𝗛𝗜 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

It’s messy. More than messy.

Daichi attempts to do his best to ease the strain on your neck, guiding a hand to coax through your hair, scratching against the scalp and even motioning you into a more comfortable position. But still, your head remains tilted awkwardly on his toned thighs, cushioned by the muscle there. A silent but blatant refusal to pull away from his cock.

You’re nosing against the underside of his cock, curving your tongue and tracing across and around the overlapping outlines of prominent veins, almost coaxing them to further pump more blood into the fat glans. It’s repetitive but thorough in nature - replaying the movements once more, dragging yourself upwards and taking him back inside of your mouth.

He was more than aware that you often struggled with taking him deeper into your throat, the girth usually being the issue - barely managing to bypass your tonsils without wanting to gag on multiple occasions. But, with each attempt, you’d garnered more and more confidence every time, and what you lacked in experience, you made up for with enthusiasm.

The way you were slurping on the spongy glans, with one hand supporting the weight of his cock at the base, and the other between your thighs. The way your tongue would slide around, prodding against the slit of his fat cockhead, tasting the thickening steady stream of pre-cum seeping out, was as if you were suckling on a teat, desperate and despondent.

‘Like a newborn lamb,’ he thinks, dazed, ‘Chasing the aftertaste of milk.’

Periodically, your fingertips trail lower and lower, skimming across the soft surface of his ballsack, kneading them ever-so-gently, before pulling back and diving right back in once more, leaving chaste kisses in their wake. Taking them into your mouth softly, and immersing yourself in the feeling.

It’s worship. Utter devout worship.

Daichi, still partially disorientated, can’t think back to a time he’d ever experienced something of this nature; sometimes your eyes would meet with his own, staring up at him as if he’d given you the world and everything more, rewarding you with his cock in the process.

(Like he’s God’s-fucking-Gift).

Everything is heightened - the moment he can feel the fine hairs across his ballsack meeting the cooling saliva coating your chin as you alternate sides, Daichi realises how truly close he is - everything is reaching a peak, warmth seemingly centred in the tip of his cockhead, and he has to pull you off, he has to-

“Please-uh,” it’s whiny and pathetic, your voice hoarse from the thorough throat-fucking, “Daddy, I wanna make you feel-” and you’re seeking his cock out once again, hands braced on his thighs for guidance, wet lips parting ready to take him back into your mouth, deeper and deeper in eagerness but Daichi’s spilling over, spilling everywhere-

Instead of his glans being guided towards your mouth, it briefly brushes up against the corner of your mouth, twitching upwards, visibly straining, smacking against the right of your cheek-

(and spilling and spilling and spilling and he’s your Daddy).

It’s everywhere; it’s coated across your cheeks, stretched thinly across your eyelashes all the way down towards your lips, sore and bitten. The rolling of his hips gradually slows to a halt, riding the uncoiling wave within him, with thick strands of viscous cum being drawn out as he pulls back, his palm cupping around your jaw reassuringly.

He hadn’t planned, he hadn’t meant to let himself go so quickly, yet, you’re still observing him from your knees, blinking dumbly, licking your lips and clinging onto any remaining droplets of his seed - as if waiting for his next gospel. His word was gospel.

(He’s your Daddy).

#kinktober #kinktober with qtipcottonbuds #kinktober 2022 #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #daichi sawamura #gender neutral character #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #daichi x gender neutral reader #daichi x male reader #daichi x female reader

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