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#like i'm sorry but he is LIMP WRISTED

koenigami · 6 months

Note

not sure if you allow it, but how does wriothesly react when the reader uses their safe word during an intense session?

tags : fem!reader, smut, crying, use of safeword, aftercare, comfort, +18

It's hot in the room, the constant gurgling of the pipes reminding you that WRIOTHESLEY must have turned up the heating higher than usual. Then why is your body shivering, with goosebumps all over your skin? You can't see him, can't hear him because he has barely talked to you ever since he's returned from his office. Yet you feel his large, intimidating form loom over your body from behind. You can't speak, can barely breathe with his constricting hand around your throat that somehow seems to get tighter by every passing second.

He's immune to your whimpers, to the tears rolling down your cheeks. With each forceful thrust of his, you hear the bed creak and feel your knees get weaker, your body loosing strength until you're nothing but a limp toy for him. You want to get up, push him away, but the grip his other hand has on your wrists while holding them behind your back- He's just too strong.

That's when even the last ounce of pleasure leaves your body and you're left with nothing but dread and panic. "Red, p-please." you barely recognise your own voice, hoarse and frightened. "No more, please, red."

The pressure on your windpipes is gone instantly. You realise it, not by the oxygen that is easier entering your airways, no, because you still feel like you're suffocating. You realise it because his warmth is as well gone in an instant. W-Where did he go?

Rough hands are all over your body, yet they treat you with so much care, helping you turn and lie on your back, soothing down your thighs. One of them at last settles on your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing it and wiping the tears away. "Y/n? Sweetheart, you with me?"

You sniffle and press the heels of your palms against your eyes, your chest shaking with more sobs that won't stop racking your body. "I'm sorry, 'm so sorry. I-I don't even know-"

"No, no, don't apologise. There's nothing to be sorry for." Your brain still feels foggy as you finally look over at Wriothesley who's crouching beside the bed, giving you enough space to breathe yet still having his hands all over you, not wanting to let you go. Nonetheless, you're able to notice the tension in his posture, in his facial expressions. "Just try to relax, alright? You're okay now." his hand shifts to your hair, fingers combing through the messy strands until they settle on your scalp, soothingly massaging you there. "You did good. It was too much, wasn't it?"

"Couldn't breathe." you whisper and realise that you feel so small in his presence, but not in an inferior way. Wriothesley may look all brutish and intimidating with a strength that could crush any allegedly impenetrable door in the fortress, but you're well aware that he would never use that strength against people that he cares about. "And, uhm-"

Piercing blue eyes watch as you nervously fiddle with the blanket that he has covered you with. But the little peck he gives you on your shoulder tells you that he wants to let you have a breather and take as much time as you need to sort your thoughts. "You seemed a-angry. You were so quiet and, I don't know. It was..."

"Scary?" he finishes for you, a gentle and reassuring smile plastered on his face that alleviates the pressure on your chest.

"Yeah."

Silence invades the bedroom for a short moment, making you forget that you're miles beneath the water surface, that the room which you share with him belongs to a prison, that a few moments prior your body has been in a fight-or-flight mode. The silence reminds you that you're safe and that all of this, all of him, is home. "Will you come back to bed? And hold me?"

Wriothesley's eyes soften at your request and the timid sound of your voice. "Of course, my love." His knees pop when he eventually gets up, pressing a fleeting kiss on your temple before he picks his pants up from the floor and puts them on. Despite the previous events, you can't help but feel a light heat creep up your neck when you get a sight of his naked buttocks.

"Careful with those wandering eyes. I might think you want to continue where we left off." Wriothesley chuckles when you pull the blanket over your head, a futile attempt to hide your embarrassed expression.

"Come here." the mattress dips beside you and you let him tug the blanket off your head. The warmth and smell of his make you sigh in contentment once he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. "I'm the one who should apologise. I was not aware of how much I was hurting you."

The teasing smirk and brief leisurely attitude are gone, replaced by a seriousness that you usually only get to see when he's handling work related matters. He kisses your face again and again, further silent apologies that he hopes will lessen the pain inside your chest. And his. "I was a little irritated, yes, but that had nothing to do with you. Some inmates got their hands on a few bottles of wine." he explains. "Those drunkards started spewing lots of nonsense when I confronted them about it."

What did they say?" you inquire quietly, your eyes slowly but surely feeling heavier. With a palm against his naked chest, you notice the rapid heartbeat but decide to not give it any mind, since Wriothesley's tender strokes along your back are truly not making it easy for you to stay awake and think straight.

He stops his movements for a short moment, clenching and unclenching his fist as his eyes trail over the red, irritated skin of his knuckles.

"Your grace has turned quite soft." "Your little mouse must be doing a great job in bed, huh?" "Why don't you lend her to us? I'm sure we could teach her a thing or two?"

"Nothing you should worry your head about." his voice is merely a whisper as his lips move against your forehead before he buries his nose in your hair and resumes to trace more soothing shapes on your lower back.

a/n : thank you for your patience, dear anon! hope you'll see this since your request has been sitting for a while in my inbox-

#jinx approves. I post.#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley genshin impact #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley #wriothesley smut #wriothesley comfort #wriothesley x you #genshin impact wriothesley #genshin smut

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inkskinned · 2 months

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we were drunk off mezcal and my dog had his paws crossed like he was fancy and we were giggling about it and i told you that with the sun coming back i can feel my fingers again and you grabbed my wrist and jokingly shook my limp hands while saying i have you i got you and i wanted to tell you i love you in that moment but it's actually just that it's spring and love actually seems like something that i can afford once in a while so long as i'm not overwhelmed by the crushing weight of having to do my laundry

i don't get so sad on sundays anymore and part of that is you but also part of it is that i've been watching a bird melodrama in the tree outside my window - first the robins had the run of it, then the doves. most recently a family of sparrows came through. the sky was pink today like a kiss, and i felt the pastel wrap in a warm piebald snake around my chest and hum herself into my bones

thank god for every person that forgives me for the depressive spirals i go on every winter without-fail like i swear there are absolutes in this world and it's stuff like. stoats go white in winter. the sun comes over the east. when it gets cold all parts of my soul go numb and the light can't pass through my iris without a tattoo gun. how many times can i tell a friend i'm sorry i wasn't talking to you, i truly wasn't talking to anyone

thank god i can feel my skin right now and you hold my weak little hand in your hand and then you flip it over so you can read my palm and you're smiling while you run fingertips over lines and read out my fate like it says here you like a good grillcheese sandwich and admit it you make salads by buying the pre-made spring mix and i have all your astrology shit memorized and i read your horoscope first when i'm checking my own even-though-i-don't-believe-in-it (but just in case) and i want to kiss you just to watch the blush spread in a tulip from under your freckles in that way it does, how you pull back and wrinkle your nose in laughter

thank god but today for the first time in a month i finally texted my friends back and actually made plans to hang out (how's that! barring disaster!) and i let my dog put his big muddy paws on my nice sweater and yeah actually when it's bad i always think i can't do that again. i can't crawl back up that mountain

but the sun touched me on the face this morning and we had a nice long talk about it and i said i gotta go the long way again huh and she nodded and shook back her solarflare hair and looked over to her moon girlfriend and she said you can do it. better things on the horizon.

#seasonal affective disorder #this one for my #sad #girlies #writeblr

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sweets4dolls · 3 months

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i just NEEEED vox using his mind control on bunny!!! not that he needs to, since she's already such a good bun but im CERTAIN his control freak ass would get a kick out of making her into an even more pliant, completely mindless mess <3

𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓀𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈

pairing: vox + bunny!fem!reader

content warnings: smut, hypnosis, dubious consent, a lil bit of an unhealthy relationship, little bit of blood mentioned, sort of mean vox, mention of size, not proofread per usual

notes: ur so right nonnie <3, also, I just realized, can this tv even kiss?? like he's just a screen???? or is he???????

after a long day of work, all vox wants is to come up to your room and cuddle n fuck.

usually, your such an obedient little bunny that he never hears any complaints fall from your prettily plump lips, but today was different.

straight after he finishes up his work, he makes headway straight to your room, ready to get in his bunny's pretty pussy. he swings open your door and sits himself next to you on your bed where you were flipping through mindless gossip on your phone that he had given to you.

he raises a hand, using it to run through your warm hair and pet your fluffy ears, asking "what are you looking at bun," not too focused on your reply as you babble on about some random squabble happening between some of the other overlords that was on the news, annoying him - why talk about them when you have the real deal right in front of you?

so he's flipping up your skirt as you lay on your tummy before your eyes go wide and you exclaim "oh! and there's a new diner opened a couple blocks down from here that is supposed to have super good milkshakes." you crawl across his lap to stand on your two little feet, teetering slightly before searching for a pair of shoes that will go best with your outfit.

this only irritates vox more, he was certainly better than milkshakes, wasn't he? so he smooths his tone and says "c'mon, baby, I can make you feel better than a milkshake ever will," but doesn't manage to convince you. in his mind, you've just gotten so spoiled that you'd just choose anything over him, wouldn't you? so it doesn't take long after he tries to convince you a few more times that he'd do for you what milkshakes couldn't, and it doesn't work, making it so that he's grabbing you firmly by the wrist, yanking you around.

"hey, take it easy mister!" you cry as his vividly blue claws break your delicate skin, little rivulets of blood flowing down your skin and his nails. then, he pulls out his skill of hypnosis, eye going wide as he tells you to shut up and he's going to fuck away every thought of that stupidly sweet drink from your dumb little mind.

your posture instantly becomes languorous as he does so, like a limp little doll as he pushes you onto the bed, his arms around you covering you in caresses, muttering filth into your ear as he traces his name with his tongue and teeth down your sweet skin, leaving little lovebites in his wake.

before long, he's tearing off your soaked panties, a mixture of arousal and his hypnosis, as he lays you down as he's hissing about how disobedient you were in your floppy ear, "you do what I say, always bunny. I say sit pretty, sit pretty, I say we're not going out for milkshakes, we're not going out for milkshakes, and if I say you're going to be my personal fucksleeve" he trails off as he splits you open on his cock, making you mewl and tear up.

"I-i'm really sorry mister!" you cry, opalescent tears flowing down your pretty pink cheeks as he fucks your tight little cunt and runs a clawed hand over your bulging tummy.

"so your going to do whatever I say from now on, right bunny?" he asks you, not giving you room to say no in the state he put you in so you just nod your little head hazily as you spasm around him and mumbled slurred words about how sorry you were, how you'd never do it again.

"there's my obedient baby bunny"

#hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #vox #vox x reader #vox smut #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox smut

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wifeofasith · 4 months

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So wet for master, aren't you?

ׁ ֶָ֢ ⏤͟͟͞͞☕️ ׁ ࣭ warnings ! ۪ ׁ ⊹ || Dubcon, virgin!reader, virginity kink, fingering, spit, fingers in reader's mouth, gagging, pet-names, Master x Padawan. MDNI.

"It's alright, sweetheart; just let me check." Anakin snakes his arms around you, his broad chest leaning onto your back. "I promise it won't hurt; I'll be careful, okay? You have to trust your Master."

With his mechanic grip holding you in place by your waist, he's trying to glide the flesh hand inside your robes while you squirm in his grasp, like a hunted bunny about to be devoured.

"I-I'm— Master, please... I'm not sure it's a good idea..." You keep insisting on being spared. You feel your head spin as the coldness hits your upper chest. There is a tingle right at the lower part of your belly, and Anakin is sure as hell aware of it.

“Shh,” He scolds you quietly. “You have to be a good Padawan. I have to take a look; now spread your legs wider.” He pinches your side a bit too harshly, making you flinch. “It’ll only take a second.”

“I swear, I didn’t lie!” You grab his wrist, “I’m pure; I’ve been a good girl, I promise!” You try to convince him; you try to make him believe, and it’s so so frustrating because it’s actually the truth that he refuses to accept.

“Then why are you so scared, hm? If you aren’t a filthy liar and your pussy is still tight, why are you resisting?” His voice is more forceful now; he yanks your body towards himself to keep you still.

Anakin proceeds to push a knee between your thighs, kicking your feet apart. He finally manages to free you from the belt that was holding your robes together. He brings his fingers to your mouth.

“Open your mouth, baby. Have to lube it down there, wouldn’t want it to ache now, would we?”

He lets out a satisfied ‘mmm’ when you comply with his request. It’s better than having his digits forced into your mouth anyway. He glides his ring and middle fingers across your tongue, pressing on it and gathering spit. “That’s it, have to get a bit deeper.” He pushes past the major knuckles, and your throat spasms.

He pulls out soon enough after you start pathetically whimpering from the tears forming in your eyes. A string of saliva connects the pink of your lips with his fingertips. He holds you tightly to himself when his wettened hand slides down your abdomen into the sweetness of your panties.

“There we— Oh… Oh, honey…” He whispers into your ear as his fingers make contact with your slit; his voice drops way lower than before. He nuzzles the soft part behind your ear and takes a deep breath. “It’s already pretty creamy here, mmm?” He circles right at your entrance, juices mixing with spit, ruining your precious lace. “You want to tell Master something?”

“I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean it!” You start babbling excuses, not too sure yourself of how you even got so fucking drenched from your master violating your personal space. “Master, please, it doesn’t mean anything; I’m still chaste!”

“I know, I know, my sweetest... Maker, you’re so wet, so wet for master, aren’t you?” He consoles you, and you can’t decide which feels better, his cooing voice or the fact that he’s grazing your folds with such intensity. “Yeah…. Is my little Padawan aroused from me forcing my hand down her pants? You really want that tiny cunt stretched, don’t you?”

“N-no, stop… That’s— It’s wrong!” You try to pull his hand away, but to respond to your annoying whines, he presses his thumb onto your swollen clit and your knees buckle.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? I know it does. It’s okay; we won’t tell anyone.” You can feel his arm supporting most of your body, which is slowly going limp from the heat in your core. “Be quiet now and let master fuck a few orgasms into you, yeah?”

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billysgun · 4 months

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saving

billy the kid x fem!reader |requested!|billy comes and saves you when you're kidnapped and beaten by a rival gang|

saliva and blood poured out of your mouth before being immediately soaked by the cotton rag you're gagged with. your head felt too heavy to hold as you slowly leaned forward on the chair you were bound to.

the thick ropes needles scratched into your wrists as you felt your ribs ache once you lifted your head to the loose bulb swinging above you

you can feel your side bruising from how the gang members grabbed you and stole you away. using you as a way to get to billy.

"darlin' you're really out of it, ain't ya?"

the old man chuckled as the group surrounded you, luckily, no ones touched you since the rope was tightened around you.

you prayed billy wouldn't show. seeing how there were about 10 men around you right now, how many are outside patrolling?

it would just end with you both dead.

as your head tilted back again and the buzzing light swarmed your vision, you felt it cave into a black darkness and you went limp.

"aaand, there she goes again."

you flinched awake as the thumb pressed into your temple, lifting your head up as one of the old men examined your face

"yeah, she ain't dead" he grunted before stumbling off, your head was pounding and you felt like gagging on the cloth that was stuffed down your throat.

"stay awake for us, doll. we need ya to be here when the kid comes" the presumed leader of the group told you, you felt your legs start to slowly shake as you imagined billy being gunned down-

everyone flinched as the first shot rang out.

your eyes were wide and wild as you started chanting prayers in your mind that it was the members fighting or a stray bullet, but as the main man smiled and ushered a few men to go outside, you knew billy arrived.

"thank you for bringin' him, doll" he smiled, rotting teeth showing before taking his gun and storming outside as a few men crowded around you

another shot, another shot, another shot

"damn, why they ain't get him yet?" one of the men rasped before getting his pistol out and storming off

"guard the door, will ya?" he mumbled before leaving and you were left with 3 men surrounding you

"billy chose a pretty one, huh?" they all chuckled lowly and twirled your hair as they talked about having their way with you before ultimately murdering you

suddenly, the familiar shots of gunfire came to a stop and the men rushed to the window

"did they get him?" they whispered excitedly

"can't tell" one answered back, only then, the door behind you busted open and you let your head fall as bullets flew passed you and into the heads of all your kidnappers

you didn't even know you were crying until thick tears soaked your trousers, blood spread around your shoe as you gasped into your gag

the sound of boots quickly rushing you as your ties were off and a bloody gag from a busted lip was replaced with his lips before his wild eyes tapped your cheeks and body to make sure you were alright

"you're okay? you're okay? none of the fuckers did nothin' to you?" he asked frantically and you nodded

"nothin' but bruised ribs and a punch that knocked me out" you slurred, suddenly feeling too heavy again as you stood. he noticed immediately and scooped you up

"I'm sorry...I'm so fuckin' sorry" he mumbled in your bloody hair, tears soaking your scalp as he carried you out

your eyes traveled over the dead bodies that scattered the yard, seeing a familiar set of rotting teeth that were blown out as he put you on his horse

he rode back to your guys' ranch and he scrubbed the blood out of your hair in a warm bath before holding you tight in bed, vowing to never leave you ever again.

an: i LOVED this request sm!!! and i had a lot of fun writing it!! <333 tysm for requesting!

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agirlcandream84 · 2 months

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Neighbor!Frank Giving Daddy Vibes When He Offers To Help You

This isn't smut but it also isn't fluff but it is comfort but also hot? Like listen, I want Frank to step in and make.things.better. And you know he would.

Frank Castle x Reader

Word Count: 1,732 (~6 min read)

You felt like an idiot, sobbing on your living room floor over a damn futon. It wasn't even the futon, really, it was the colossal mess that acquiring the futon created. As a single girl, you should have guessed Facebook Marketplace was a sketchy place to buy your furniture but you were broke and desperate.

You'd been in your new apartment for a month and your living room was still an empty box with some pillows on the ground as a sad replacement for a couch. You saw the listing for a futon for $50, including delivery, on Marketplace and jumped on the offer. The guy had seemed nice enough and you arranged a time for drop-off on the front stoop of your building but the man pulled up in his truck with a hunk of dissembled futon parts instead of the assembled futon in the picture. Your heart sank instantly and you told him you didn't have the tools to assemble the futon.

"Not my problem," was all he grumbled as he opened his truck bed and started unloading the parts onto the sidewalk, clanging with every toss.

"Please, I'm sorry, I can't take this. I don't have any way to assemble it," you shout over the rattle of the pieces amassing on the sidewalk. He ignores you and continues to unload until the last scrap is cleared from his truck.

"I'm not paying for this," you tell him indignantly. "This isn't what the picture looked like."

He spits on the sidewalk as he strides over to you, grabbing your wrist roughly and yanking the $50 from your hand and mumbles, "Yes you fucking are."

As he drives away you contemplate just leaving the pieces there but your landlord has security cameras and the problem will circle back to you quickly enough. And so, after 30 mins of hauling parts up four flights of stairs and nearly two hours of attempting to assemble the futon using god knows what tools you had lying around the apartment you find yourself in heaving sobs on your living room floor.

The sharp rap at your door snaps you out of your spiral as you mumble a faint, "hello?" towards the door.

The voice on the other said says "Hey, uh, it's me. It's Frank." Frank kept to himself but you had both settled into a kind rhythm with each other. You occasionally dropped off your leftovers (he didn't seem like the type to cook much for himself) and he'd occasionally help take your trash out to the dumpsters or made sure your windows had working locks.

He wasn't one to talk much, usually just ringing your bell and grumbling something before lending a hand, and you assume it's by design. The thing is, you worried about Frank. Though he'd never say anything about it, you saw the way bruises would occasionally bloom across his face. Or the way he'd limp back to his unit down the hall. Sometimes he seemed to be gone for days on end. But despite all signs screaming, DANGEROUS MAN, you trusted Frank and he always treated you nicely. His presence was a comport even, if he did seem to attract danger.

"Oh, uh, coming," you mumble as you weave through the maze of futons parts scattered across your floor and quickly the wipe the tears from your cheeks. You open the door to find Frank leaning with his raised forearm against the doorframe, his hulking form above you, and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Hey Frank, everything ok?" you ask, eyes cast upward toward him, door only cracked a little to conceal the mess you were currently in.

"Came to ask you that question," he responds, chin jutting up to indicate your direction. "Thought maybe I heard some cryin' in there," he adds.

Shame flushes your face and radiates through your body. You weren't above asking for help when you needed it but to be caught in the middle of your mental breakdown was another humiliation entirely.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you could hear. I hope I didn't bother you. I'm so sorry," you rush out, your cheeks a vibrant pink.

"Hey, no no," he stops you, those brows furrowing, "don't apologize. Jeez sweetheart, I came to see if you're ok. Somethin' I can help with?"

You couldn't decide if it felt infinitely more embarrassing to accept Frank's help or if it was a tremendous relief.

"Well, I don't know. It's this.." you trail off, motioning to the room he can't see.

"Let me see, a'right?" he offers gently, "Can you open the door a bit for me?" he asks, his hand landing on the knob. You nod and step back, making room for Frank to enter.

"It was a Facebook Marketplace thing... the guy was a jerk," you start and describe what transpired. Frank appears to be growing more agitated at the story continues, his arms crossed across his chest and big breaths huffing out through his crooked nose.

"fuckin' prick," he mumbles under his breath when you finish as he squats to the floor to inspect the task. "These are the only tools you got honey?" he asks gently, not meaning to embarrass. After nodding your head yes he replies, "Yeah, no wonder you were frustrated. This is a nightmare. I'm gonna get my toolbox and I'm coming straight back, ok sweetheart?"

You nod your head again and he's gone for a moment to his own unit. You will yourself to take a few deep breaths to not only wash away the last of the tears but to calm your nerves. Frank always made you nervous. It was that energy of his -- always in charge-- it was simultaneously immensely comforting and slightly frightening.

You hear his footsteps approach from the hall as he calls "S'me honey," so you wouldn't be frightened. He enters with his toolbox at his side and crouches low to get to work on building.

"Are you sure about this Frank? It's so much work, I know it's a pain," you ramble, twisting your fingers in knots, your embodiment of anxiety. You know he's capable but the man probably had other plans for his afternoon.

His eyes land on your twisted fingers as he replies "Happy to do it, alright? I gotcha," and you relax just a bit. After getting him a glass of water you decide to busy yourself in the kitchen, washing last night's dishes and tidying up. After 30 mins of work, he's nearly complete.

"Hey sweetheart," he shouts into the kitchen, "can you do something for me?"

"Yeah, of course," you reply entering the living and tossing the dish towel aside, "how can I help?"

"Alright, you see this piece here," he says pointing at a bent metal bar that wasn't aligned to the screw hole, "that asshole mangled this piece when he disassembled it so we gotta force back in place. Need you to screw it in here when I start bending it back alright?" he asks as he indicates to the screw hole. You nod in understanding as he hands you the manual screw driver. He places his hands on your hips and says gently, "need you stand here honey," to guide you to stand directly in front of him, the futon in front of you. He feel heat flame your cheeks and thank god Frank is facing the back of your head.

Frank engulfs your form, his chin hovering over your right shoulder as his arms reach around either side of you to land on the bent metal bar. You hear the comforting rhythm of his breath in your ear and squeeze your eyes shut a moment to shake the heat rising in your cheeks. He steps forward an inch to get the right leverage on the bar, his broad chest grazing your back.

"this, uh, this ok?" he mumbles in the shell of your ear, his voice soft and rumbly, confirming your comfort and managing to raise the temperature in the room by about 50 degrees. You can't manage an audible yes but you nod instead. With that, you feel him lean closer, a grunt escaping his lips as he forces the bent bar back into place. You watch as his broad hands grip the cool metal, the ropes in his forearms taut as he bends it back to shape. As the holes line up, you begin screwing as fast as you can, securing the bar in place.

He pants as he releases the effort, an "attagirl" tumbling from his lips as his calloused hand wraps around yours, making the last, hardest 90 degree turn to tighten the screw in place. "Practically built the thing yourself," he teases, releasing your hand.

"I can't thank you enough," you start, turning to face him, his face now only inches from yours, the expanse of his shoulders nearly consuming the room. "I.. uh I..." you mumble, the rest of the thought terminated as you stand close enough to smell the mossy freshness of his deodorant.

"Yeah, hey, like I said, happy to help," he responds, one landing landing on your upper arm and squeezing gently before grazing down to let go. He adds after a beat, "Listen, you talk to me about it next time sweetheart, yeah? I’ll take care of it. Don't go gettin’ in a mess like that," his brown eyes nearly boring into yours.

"What do you mean... take care of it?" you ask, nearly a whisper, tiptoeing over a boundary you weren't sure you wanted to know more about. What was Frank's definition of "taking care of" something and why did you think it involved more bruises? Or worse.

His eyes flick away for a moment before finding yours again. "Yeah, that's nothin' you need to worry about honey," he responds, more breath than voice, and you had decided you didn't prefer to know any more.

After a few minutes collecting and packing his tools, Frank made his way to the door and you followed him behind, thanking him again for the help.

"Yeah, it's no problem. Let me take care of you sometimes, yeah?" he replies, leaning in to kiss your cheek, his hand landing softly on your opposite cheek for only a moment, before turning to walk towards his unit, leaving you with a new problem: were you in love with Frank?

#frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle fanfic #frank castle smut #frank castle x y/n #frank castle fluff #frank castle comfort

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

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Icy

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader

Summary: Ingrid gets angry

You break your wrist the day Mapi does her meniscus.

You're just playing around when it happens. Mapi's got you on her shoulders, despite Ingrid yelling at you to get the hell off, when she takes a misstep. She yelps loudly, drawing everyone's attention, and crumbles to the ground.

You're thrown across the grass of the pitch and skid. It knocks the wind out of you and you can hear the snap of your wrist when it hits the grass, bent at a weird angle.

It throbs and tears spring to your eyes but you don't think of anything but Mapi and practically crawl your way towards her.

Ingrid's already there though and she fixes with the iciest glare she can manage.

You freeze.

Ingrid's got a cold kind of anger that festers beneath the surface. It's very scary and you've never been on the receiving end of it before. It's like a bolt of lightning is shot down your back and you freeze, drawing your limp wrist into your body.

She turns back to soothing Mapi and you stay where you are.

It's clear that she doesn't want you to approach, clear that she's angry with you so you sit frozen on the grass.

Her glare is scary and she's mouthing something at you. You can't really make it out but it's something along the lines of staying the fuck where you are because you've already done enough.

Mapi rolls around in pain, slapping the ground so she doesn't scream and the medics come running on.

Most of them go to her but one comes to you.

He reaches for your wrist.

You pull away.

"Mapi," You croak out," Mapi."

"She's going to be just fine," He promises you," But you need to let me take a look at that wrist."

"No." You shake your head, desperately trying to peak over his shoulder to see Mapi.

Ingrid is standing up now, looking around like Mapi's personal guard dog. Her eyes rest on you and they narrow. You look away before she can say anything again.

She's angry at you, you know this, and you try to think of whose house you'll have to sleep at tonight. You live with Ingrid and Mapi but you don't think either of them will want you around tonight.

You yelp when the medic moves your wrist, instantly tearing it from his grip.

He grimaces and you freeze.

"What? What is it?"

"I'm sorry."

"Why? No, what is it?"

"Have you looked at your wrist, y/n?" He asks.

You shake your head. "No...Mapi-"

"I need some bandages!" He yells out to the others. He glances at you. "And probably a green whistle too."

It's funny, you think. You barely felt any pain when you were focused on Mapi and pumped with adrenaline. Now that you're looking at your injury, you feel the blood rush from your face.

Your bone is sticking out of your skin. Your stomach rolls as the pain hits you in full force. You're pretty good with injuries. You're not squeamish or anything but the sight of your bone poking out makes you turn and throw up all over the grass.

You feel so incredibly sick and disorientated that you barely notice Mapi demanding Ingrid tell her what's wrong with you. Ingrid's looking at you again. No longer is there an icy look in her eyes but genuine horror instead.

You're completely out of it as the medic tries to stabilise your wrist without agitating your bone. Someone sticks a green whistle into your mouth and you suck down hard.

Your eyes are all glazed over as you watch Mapi be placed onto a stretcher. Ingrid walks with her but keeps looking back at you. She drops Mapi's hand and moves towards you but you think you flinch away when she does so and one of the older girls (Marta or Paredes, maybe) pushes Ingrid away to follow after her girlfriend.

Unlike Mapi, who is wheeled to the physios to get scans, you're brought straight to the hospital and taken into surgery.

By the time you wake up, it's already dark out and there's someone holding your non-injured hand.

"Hey," Mapi says softly," You're looking rough."

You blink groggily at her. "How's your leg? Is it a..."

You don't want to say those three letters but Mapi just shakes her head.

"Meniscus," Is her answer," I'll be alright though. Just a little surgery in a few days."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Ingrid thinks it is. She got really scary."

"She's sorry too," Mapi says," She knows how she reacted was wrong and she's getting you ice cream right now."

You're not too convinced but you don't want to argue with Mapi so you lift up your arm. You've got a cast around your wrist and you gather they doped you up on painkillers because it doesn't even twinge.

"It was a nasty break," Mapi says," Snapped part of your radius which then pushed your ulna out through your skin. It was gnarly." She pats you soothingly. "But you'll heal up in no time. We can be rehab buddies together."

That brings a smile to your face but it drops the moment Ingrid comes through the door.

You bottom lip wobbles. "I'm sorry." You hate how you sound so pathetic and broken.

Ingrid shakes her head and takes a seat next to you. "No, I'm sorry," She says," I shouldn't have treated you like that no matter how worried I was about Mapi. I'm very, very sorry."

You offer her a weak smile. "Does this mean I can still stay in the spare room?"

"Spare room?" Ingrid laughs," That's been your room for nearly a year now. You're not going anywhere."

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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eyelessfaces · 11 months

Text

caregiver

miguel o'hara x reader

summary: when miguel sees how wrong your mission went, he only wishes for you to let him take care of you.

warnings: description of injuries, blood is mentioned once and there's not a lot of it

tags: gn!reader, slight angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, fucking oblivious idiots in love

word count: 1.8k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

I love him

You pressed the button of the strap around your wrist with difficulty, opening a portal to the spider society.

It took a good amount of your strength just to get back onto your feet after having collapsed into an empty alley after finally escaping the people chasing you, and you were thankful that your webs had helped you transport yourself earlier, because your legs couldn’t have done the job.

It was the first time you had fled a scene without stopping the bad guys, but if you hadn’t fled it, they would have stopped you, and worse could have happened.

When you arrived at the spider society, almost everyone stopped in their task or conversation to stare at you, watching you limp through the crowd. A few of them gathered around you and offered you help, but you gave them a small smile and a lame excuse and that seemed to be enough for you to be able to move on.

That was until Miguel turned his head at the hubbub you had caused and saw the state you were in.

He pushed every other spider person away, making his way to you hurriedly, his eyes gradually widening and lips parting in disbelief as he made his way to you.

"What on earth happened to you" he asked from a distance, his path now clear as everyone had made way for him to join you.

He stood right in front of you, and though he couldn't see your face, he could imagine it through your mask, and he knew you wouldn’t tell him what happened.

He looked at his side and realized everyone was staring. He sighed and turned so his back was turned to you, now facing the crowd that had circled the both of you. "Nothing to see here, we're fine, you can go back to your occupations" he ordered, and people awkwardly moved on from the situation, trying to act like nothing happened.

Miguel turned back to you once the movement had dissipated, and his face dropped in worry again. He had seen the way you were limping, and he was now seeing how you were holding onto your left shoulder, thoroughly trying to cover it with your hand. And hell, you hadn't even dropped your mask, but from the cut in it on your forehead, it was already bad enough.

"What happened" he asked again, more calmly and composedly this time.

"It's okay, I'm fine" you discarded the question, starting to walk until he put a hand over your other shoulder to stop you.

"If you don't wanna tell me what happened, let me at least help you now" he almost whispered, his gaze falling to meet your eyes to let you know that he was serious about this.

"No."

With that you left him behind and continued walking, difficultly, and Miguel sighed one last time.

A startled yelp left you when he shot a web at you and pulled you to him, making you land over his shoulder. It was so easy for him, his superstrength allowing him to handle you like you were just a rag doll to him.

You hit his muscled back with the bit of strength left in you, your desperate ministrations barely affecting him. "Let go of m–"

"Look at the things I have to do for you to let me take care of you" he cut you off in a monotone and low voice, trying to ignore all the pairs of eyes glued to the both of you again as he carried you over his shoulder.

You gave up on trying to fight him, you knew you couldn't even if you really wanted to, you didn't have enough energy and he wouldn't want to let go of you anyway.

—

He brought you to a secluded quarter with medical supplies, and you were finally alone and not putting on a show anymore. He pulled a chair thanks to a web, and made you sit down on it before getting another chair in front of you and gathering the stuff he would need to clean up your wounds.

"Sorry if I hurt you when I shot the web and pulled you to me, but if you weren't so stubborn–"

"That's okay, I appreciate your concern" you cut him off huffing a laugh until another jolt of pain from your shoulder coursed through your body, making you suck in air through your teeth.

He looked over at you and hurried to get everything ready to take care of your wounds, putting the stuff on the table next to the chairs once ready.

"Let me see your shoulder" he asked throwing his chin at it, noticing that your hand hadn't left the spot since you came back to the spider society.

You released your tight grip from the wound slowly and carefully, your covered hand stained with a bit of blood. The wound wasn't so bad, it wasn't too deep, but it was long scratches that hurt every time you moved your arm even just a bit.

The worst part of it for you was that you were going to have to change your suit now that it was ripped to shreds in that area.

"Okay" Miguel muttered, inspecting the injury. "I think you're gonna heal pretty fast, but the first days are gonna be tough. The placement isn't the easiest to live with" he said while sitting down in front of you.

"You wanna talk about good placement? I probably have a cut right over my face" you declared, sliding your fingers under the hem of your mask. "I haven't seen it yet but I felt it for sure." you grunted, taking the piece off with a sigh of relief, happy to finally feel some fresh air.

He stared at the slash going from the side of your eyebrow to your forehead, his gaze quickly diverting to his lap where he was getting his stuff ready when your eyes met.

"There's no good spot to get hurt. I just meant that there are spots where it won't disturb you while it's healing" he declared as he prepared the gauze pad and soaked it with disinfectant. "Your forehead, it won't get in your way. It's inconvenient because it's visible and in the middle of your face but it won't disturb you. Your shoulder, it gets annoying when you shower, when you sleep, when you want to reach and grab something"

"Right"

He pinched his lips in a skeptic smile. "You ready? It's gonna sting a bit" he declared looking at you seriously, and you responded with a small nod.

He took care of your shoulder first, helping you rip off your suit a bit more so he could have full access to the wound. Your heart ached at the sight of your beloved suit getting torn apart, but Miguel telling you that he would get you a new one, even better than this one, made you feel a bit better.

If you thought your shoulder was hurting before, it was nothing compared to that feeling when the disinfectant met your flesh. The sudden burning feeling made you let out a scream of pain, accompanied by a few swear words including a 'motherfucker' you hoped Miguel wouldn't take personally.

He was trying to be gentle, he really was, the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you, but no matter how soft he could be you both knew it would hurt anyways. You appreciated the way he tried to soothe you with kind words, telling you how good you were doing, telling you he was almost done cleaning it up and it was almost over.

You hoped he didn’t mind the way your nails were digging onto his bicep as you hissed in pain, and you knew he didn’t when his kind eyes met yours once he was done.

"Let me bandage you then it's over, okay?" he softly asked before shooting you a small smile. "It won't be as painful for your forehead."

—

You took the time to drink some well deserved and needed water before Miguel took care of your forehead.

The proximity was another new feeling from this whole experience, and it almost made you forget about the slight pain located at the side of your face.

Miguel had your chin trapped between his thumb and forefinger to hold your face, causing your lips to slightly part. It was endearing to see him being so focused on trying not to hurt you, being so careful for each of his even smallest movements.

You hadn't even noticed he was done until he waved a hand in front of your face, making you apologize for being so disconnected from reality. You wished that moment could have lasted longer.

"Thank you" you absent-mindedly mumbled. "Sorry I was being a pain in the ass, I'm actually thankful you could take care of me" you softly smiled, and he mirrored your action.

"See, you should listen to me more often" he replied smugly, his soft smile changing to a toothy grin exposing his sharp fangs.

You huffed out a laugh and playfully hit his arm before shaking your head and standing up with a grunt.

"Hey" he called, a serious tone in his voice as he stood up in front of you. "I know you don't wanna tell me what happened but just know that I'll have Lyla get your previous location, I'll track them from here and I'll take care of them"

You paused for a second.

"You don't have to do this for me"

"I know" he declared, pinching his lips. "I want to."

"I'd need to properly thank you for that." you declared, raising your eyebrows until a sting reminded you of your cut there.

"You don't have to do that"

"I want to." you repeated his previous words with a smirk. You paused, then an idea came to your mind. "What about… What about you go to another universe with me so we can grab dinner?" you proposed, walking around your chair – still slightly limping – so you could slide it back under the table.

"So, a date"

"N– Yes." you bit down on your bottom lip as you looked back at him, trying to figure out what was going on in his head at that moment and studying his face, trying to guess if he would accept your offer. "If you want it to be"

"I think I'm fine with that." he smiled, crossing his arms.

"Good" you smiled back at him, your heart ready to burst out of your ribcage at any moment. "Shall we?" you asked, pressing the button to open a portal where the door of the room originally was.

"After you" he offered with a teasing smile, waving his hand at the halo. You grinned and started walking, until Miguel huffed out a laugh behind you.

"God you need to do something about that limping. I guess I'll just have to keep carrying you around"

—

feedback is always extremely appreciated plsplspls!!

masterlist | taglist | ao3

spiderman 2099 taglist: @bubuslutty @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @midnight-the-shadow-wolf @cocodiem @pedropascalsidechick @spxctorsslxt @roxannarichie @vicolangelo @amb3rrz @inluvvwithme @friedwings @chaotic-neon-sign @foxglove-grove

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #spider man across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #oscar isaac

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earlgreyflowers · 5 months

Note

Charles possessive and jealous, SMUT 🔥

The sound of your laughter streams through the Ferrari garage as Charles returns from FP1. It’d been a good session for him, finally proving his capabilities at driving the nightmare that was the SF-23. All he wanted was for you to greet him with a hug, maybe a kiss on the cheek and a soft 'well done!' But you were nowhere to be found.

Charles stalks through the garage, eyebrows furrowed, following the melody of your giggles. His eyes narrow as he sees you, crouched next to a frustrated Carlos, hand perched over his arm. The logical part of Charles' brain knows you're just being the angel that you are, comforting Carlos after his horror crash out of FP1. But the jealous part of him is screaming, zeroing in on your hand wrapped around Carlos' wrist, a hand that belongs to him. He exhales a sharp breath through his nose before joining the pair of you.

Carlos is first to look up, "Hey man, you looked fast out there. Sorry I ended up cutting the session so short." He apologises, looking down at the ground. "No worries mate, hope they get the car fixed for you." Charles replies, patting Carlos on the back. "Mon cherie, can I borrow you?" Charles asks, extending his hand to you. You raise an eyebrow at him in confusion before slotting your hand in his. He pulls you up from your crouching position before practically dragging you into his drivers' room.

"What's u-" You start to ask, unable to finish your sentence as Charles slams the door before pushing you up against it. He stares at you with thunderous eyes, "My own teammate? Really? You had to touch my own teammate?" He asks, scoffing under his breath. His deft fingers brush a strand of her behind your ear, his eyes following the movement of his hand before flicking to your lips.

"He was upset. I was just comforting him." You explain, frustrated at Charles for not seeing that. "I know you were, mon amour, but that doesn't mean I'm happy that you touched him. That your soft hands were on someone other than me." He connects his right hand with yours that had been laying limp on your side, dragging it up above your head. You move your left hand to join it and Charles slots his hand over your wrists. "Good girl." He whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"You should know by now that you don't get to touch anyone else Y/N, and so now you don't even get to touch me." His hand slides up your thigh, caressing the soft skin. He cups his hand over your panties, letting his middle finger apply pressure. "You're so wet already, mon cherie. And it's all for me isn't it?" He asks sweetly, "Your pussy is all mine." His middle finger applies pressure to your clit, causing your hips to stutter and a soft whine to fall from your lips.

"Shut up." He mutters, slapping your inner thigh. "You're going to stand here and take it, just like I tell you to, and then you're going to walk back out there, with my cum dripping down your thighs.” His fingers slip under your panties, stroking through the pool of wetness collecting between your legs. ‘And why are you going to do that, mi belle?” He questions.

“Because you own me.” You whine, desperately pressing your hips down onto Charles’ fingers. He slips his middle finger inside you, groaning at the feeling of your warmth. “You always feel so good, why can’t you act like it?” He whispers in your ear, kissing down your neck. You feel him nibble, the gentle pain shooting sparks down your body. You arch your back into him, moaning a little too loudly. “That’s it baby, let everyone in this garage know who you belong to.” He mutters, curling his fingers against your walls.

His lips continue their mission, sucking a purple bruise into your neck. The sensation pushes you closer to the edge, your walls contracting around Charles’ fingers.

“Are you going to cum?”

“Yes, please Charles, please let me cum.” You moan out, whimpering as he removes his finger from you. He holds your face, digging his fingers lightly into your cheek. Bringing his glistening finger to his lips you’re forced to watch as Charles sucks your juices from his finger with a groan.

“Bend over.”

Before you can even comprehend it Charles turns you around, forcing your ass back into his hard cock. Pulling himself out of his racing suit, he slams into you, groaning at the sensation.

“My good girl aren’t you baby? All fucking mine.” He growls in your ear, pulling your hair into a ponytail and using it as leverage to fuck you back onto his cock harder. “You belong to me, and I want everyone to know it.” Charles states, slapping your ass with his free hand. You shriek in surprise, your walls clenching down on his cock.

“There we go baby that’s it, no one else makes you feel this good and no one ever will.” Charles groans, finally reaching around to rub your clit. You moan, eyes rolling back at the shockwaves rushing through your body. Sweat begins to form on Charles’ hairline as your thighs start shaking for the position you are in. “Come on baby, I know you’re close, cum for me. I want to feel it.”

That simple command is all it takes for you to fall apart, knees buckling as you’re hit with a mind numbing orgasm. Your moaning is soon drowned out by Charles’ groans as he stills inside you, pumping you full of his cum as promised. “So fucking good, oh my god.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

He pulls his cock from your pussy, admiring the way his milky white cum drips from your lips, staining your thighs. He places a soft kiss to your forehead, “You are mine, and I love you.” You smile softly at the gesture, “I love you too Charles.” His dimple emerges at your words, cheeks reddened with his previous exertions.

He clicks the door open, leading you out proudly with your hand in his. Everyone watches the way the pair of you exit his drivers’ room as if nothing happened, but only Carlos notices what’s running down your thigh.

——————————

A/N

This is the first smut I’ve written for F1 and been happy to publish, I hope it’s good enough <3

#charles leclerc smut #f1 smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #lord perceval #ferrari #formula one smut #formula one fanfiction #formula one #formula one imagine #las vegas gp 2023 #smut prompts #il predestinato #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader

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diejager · 4 months

Note

I'm back with my guilty taste (not so guilty actually) stepdad! König and dbf! Horangi....I like to swim in deep and dangerous waters. I'm sorry.

¡Sí, padrastro! König hierve crudo cuando salimos con Horangi sin él... Lo puedo adivinar. Tenemos una pijamada/fiesta con un amigo, que realmente lo es, con el consentimiento de nuestra madre. Ella conoce a nuestro amigo, confía plenamente en él, sin ningún motivo para decir que no a querer pasar la noche en su casa. Incluso admite que con nuestro regreso haríamos una linda pareja, en comparación con König y Horangi.

I leave the idea there.

(Tiemblo de sólo imaginarlo, ¡Dam! No puedo tener suficiente, ayuda)

I’m gonna be honest with you, I had to use google translate for this and the translations were uh… going left and right, but I think I understood the gist of it. cw: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARKFIC, STEPCEST, rough sex, manhandling, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, blood kink, marking kink, wound, jealous stepdad!könig, tell me if I missed any.

König saw red when he heard that you were sleeping at a friend’s house, a boy’s house at that. Childhood friends, your mother told him, growing up together and having shared the same class until college when you went your separate ways while still keeping in touch since he lived right across the streets.

He knew the boy, he’d seen Kevin wave at your mother and you when he saw you, strutting up for a quick conversation; he’d heard Kevin talk to you on the phone and saw the smile growing on your lips and that bubbly laugh he wanted to own; and he’d seen you hang out with Kevin, waving him goodbye from your doorstep.

His blood boiled the whole night, making dinner with his wife awkward and his bedroom more heated, fucking up your mother with rough and mean sex, taking out a part of wrath on her until he had his hands on you.

He kissed his wife goodbye that morning, watching her limp out to her car and hiss as she sat down, but he didn’t feel guilty, anger still simmering under his skin. He waited for you in the living room, seating in the recliner that faced the door with his arms crossed and face scrunched up.

The moment he heard the knob turn, he surged forward, gripping you by the wrist and pulling you to your room, over the stairs and down the hall, shutting the door behind him loudly. He tore through the your clothes, ripping your panties with a shift of a hand and had you spread open for him. He was less than lenient with you, spitting on your hole and fingering you roughly, thick fingers pumping in and out of you and rolling your clit with his thumb.

He only did the minimum, stretching you out slightly so that you could feel every inch of him when he pushed in, wanting to hear whine and cry as he fucked you. He wasn’t teasing or playful like he usually was, in his haze of anger and jealousy, König was rough, domineering and mean. He split you in half on his cock, pounding into you with loud and hard thrusts, his balls slapping loudly against your slick-coated ass.

He had you folded in two, legs pressed to your chest, feet hanging off his shoulders as he towered you, his shadow looming menacingly over you. He bent forward, lips wrapping around your neck and shoulders, teeth biting into your skin, digging into your supple flesh and bleeding it, rivulets of ichor rolled down your fresh bite. He hissed and growled, spitting degrading insults, names, in your ear, relishing in the tears that fell from your lashes, sweet and salty drops that he lapped up with a bloody tongue.

He fucked you until he grew oversensitive, the leaky tip gushing ropes of cum inside you and his blood pumping through his bulging veins. He shuddered every time he came, watching your stomach bloat with his cock and cum, your pleasure painting a thick, white ring around the base of his shaft. Your room smelled of sex and sweat, your near unconscious form laying limp on the bed, fingers still grasping onto the sheets and legs spread over his elbow, eyes zoned to your heat.

“No more sleepovers, understood, Schatz?” Your stepfather growled, hand tilting your chin up to stare into his red-rimmed eyes.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders @velvetsoulweaver @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

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cozymaples · 6 months

Text

warnings: swimming pool, marking, uhh that's it!

steve who was the captain of the swim team, only mentioning it once or twice here and there to impress you. steve who has you wrapped around the waist, wading through his pool with your legs hitched around his frame. your arms drape over his broad shoulders, shelving your limp wrists. he's been kissing you for what feels like an hour now, but your conscience knows it's only probably been about five minutes. you can't help it-you just want him so bad. you feel your back finally make contact with the pool lining, gasping softly as the chill of the cement presses against your skin. the ceasing of moment sending tiny ripples in the water to splash up against you both, and you share soft laughter against the other's mouth.

"s'cold," you protest, though the grin on your features is evident through your tone. steve presses his chest to yours, his frame towering over you before he lowers himself to press kisses to your jawline. "is it? oh, i'm sorry, honey," he coos, chuckling softly with faux-sympathy. he does feel partly bad, though. "it's nothin' stevie can't fix, though-huh, sweet thing?" he murmurs into the flesh of your neck, hands sliding down your hips to keep your legs hitched around his waist, large palms kneading the flesh of your thighs. "don't drop me-" you urge, goosebumps rising on your exposed flesh. it sends a chill down your spine, the warmth of his mouth against your neck counteracting it, sucking soft hickies into your flesh. "drop you?" he chuckles into the crook of your neck, as if the notion itself is absolutely ridiculous. "a pretty thing like you?" he continues, "not a chance."

"your marks faded," he notes, referring to the string of lovemarks he'd littered across your neck, down your chest..you nod. you can hear the water dripping off of your hair, tiny splashes on the cement behind you. he keeps his placement on your thighs secure, sliding to your ass as he kneads into the flesh once more, harder than before. it earns a moan from you, lulling your head back without realizing as you grant him more access. "there she is," he praises. "there's my girl." he's got you exactly where he wants you, pressed up between him and the pool wall, hitched around his waist with your pretty head hanging back. "such a good girl without even trying. think you can keep that up for me?" you hum in response, nodding. "uh-huh-" "good," he praises, eager. "now hold still."

#steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington #stranger things smut #stranger things #maple writes stevie!

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kierahn · 6 months

Text

DANCE FOR ME. [ y ! ceo x m ! reader ]

yandere! ceo x dancer! male reader

[ nsfw, minors dni. ]

warnings :

non-con elements [brightly highlighted!]

kidnapping

drugging

general obssessive/yandere behaviour

biting

slight violence

request here. (please //in the most desperate voice)

× you have always been his favorite dancer ever since he first laid his eyes on you during your solo performance. at first, he labeled it as a small interest towards a mere dancer, but he eventually found himself unable to erase your image from his mind. he would feel his pants tighten at the imagery of you dancing solely for him.

× ever since then, he had asked his secretary to keep track of your upcoming performances and to include it in his schedule.

× "I don't care if I have a meeting that day. Cancel them," Cero glowered at his secretary who nervously stood before him, clutching a clipboard in her embrace. "But, sir–" she tried to protest, but was cut off almost immediately by a harsh glare. his secretary's shoulders tensed, a shaky sigh escaping her lips. "R,Right away, sir.."

× "ngh.. ha shit." the CEO groaned as he stroked his own hardened member, the blaring music reaching his ears from inside the bathroom stall he had currently locked himself in. could you blame him ? he couldn't contain himself after seeing you perform for him. well, not exactly, everyone had their eyes on you and cero didn't quite like that. he wanted your performance to be for his eyes only to feast on.

× to put a solution to his growing obssession, cero tried to buy you off from your current boss, the club owner. but to his dismay, his offer was bluntly rejected.

× "5 million is a big price, but I'm afraid we don't sell our workers, sir." The club owner says with an apologetic look, trying his best not to offend the high-ranking man before him, but that seemed to fail from the angered expression the ceo wore. "One billion." Cero offered through gritted teeth, visibly desperate to get his hands on (y/n). This time, the club owner seemed to think about the offer, but he ends up sighing and shaking his head once more. "Again, sir, I'm sorry but we can't sell our workers."

× Cero wasn't very happy about that, so he did the second best thing he could do; threaten the club owner by showing him demolition papers filed for his own club. This seemed to be the owner's breaking point, agreeing to the terms to sell you off to the ceo to save his business.

× you had just finished a performance, changing in the eerily empty locker room. before you knew it, a cloth was placed over your mouth and arms wrapped around your waist, prompting you to helplessly squirm around. but it seemed like whoever the man was, he wasn't alone. a bag was suddenly slung over your head by another pair of hands, blocking your vision. the drug was quick to kick into your system, your body limping into their arms after a good minute of struggling.

× you found yourself waking up to a soft feeling under you, silk sheets brushing against your bare skin. you were still wearing the revealing clothes that you had worn during your performance. you were blindfolded and your hands were tied together beside your head, leaving you vulnerable as you blindly sit up and try free your wrists from the restraints made of fine silk.

× "you're awake," a voice pipes up. albeit calm, it was obvious that the man was trying his best to keep his excitement at bay. the space beside you sunk, indicating that there was a new weight that settled beside you. "great. this is great. i can't believe i can finally meet you up close." you could feel his warm breath hit your cheek, causing you to shiver slightly.

× a surprised gasp escapes your lips when you felt a cold hand slide its way up your torso, flinching away from the unknown man's touch. "what the fuck? don't touch me." you hissed angrily, causing the hand to halt. it didn't seem like the man was too happy with your harsh words.

× before you could say another word, you were pushed back down onto the sheets, the man's weight straddling your waist and keeping you down which prompts you to start thrashing around to try and get him off of you at any means and costs.

'smack!'

× a slap was delivered to your cheek, causing you to cease your struggles in shock as your head turns to the side from the force. the weight above you shifted, but you couldn't see him. your breathing was ragged, anticipating what the man's next move was.

× a hand harshly grasps your cheeks and your head was forcefully turned to face him. you felt something slipped inside your mouth, but before you could spit it out, he covers your mouth and pressed your nose to cut off your air circulation. "Swallow." he demands coldly.

× you were forced to swallow down the pill, not wanting to be suffocated to death, and he released his hold on you after you did so. but as you were about to sigh out a breath of relief, he pulls you up and settles you onto his lap, feeling something hard poke your thigh which sent a jolt of uneasiness inside you.

× his hot breath trails down from your ear down to your neck as he attacks it with gentle kisses. despite his previously rough treatment, he was surprisingly gentle with you– "Ow!" you exclaimed when he bit down on your collarbone, leaving a deep bitemark and drawing blood. he suggestively licked the crimson substance off your skin with his tongue before capturing your lips in his, forcing his tongue inside which left the metallic taste of your own blood.

× "Dance for me.."

#yandere x male reader #male reader #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male x male reader #yandere male #kiahndere #x male reader

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hyperactively-me · 4 months

Text

tension

You've seen his face countless times, but every time the helmet comes off, it's as though you're seeing him for the first time over and over again. His expression is more than it's normal stoicism; it's vulnerable, raw. His big brown eyes come into contact with yours as you reach up, your fingers gently brushing through his messy curls. Din closes his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the contact. "Hi there, handsome," you murmur softly, allowing your fingers to linger on his strands of hair. "You clean up well, don't you?"

massaging din’s sore, aching muscles ... leads to ... yeah. I'M SORRY (not sorry at all) PUT ME IN HORNY JAIL FOR THIS IDC. it started off so innocent but then the horny monster came out and took over.

tags: smut, OILED UP DIN DJARIN, I REPEAT, OILED UP DIN DJARIN. established relationship

Din has no issue praising and worshipping you with nothing but love and adoration. In fact, it feels like second nature to him.

When he's the object of your praises, though, he doesn't know how to act. He's caught off guard by your doting attention, your quiet praises, your gentle touches.

The gruff exterior that comes so naturally to him becomes a bit more pronounced when faced with compliments and affection.

His usual response was to deflect and downplay, wanting to be the one in control, the one doing the praising rather than receiving it. It's not that he didn't appreciate your words; it's just that the vulnerability of accepting them was difficult for him.

In those moments, you read his body language like the back of your hand. You could see the conflict in his eyes, a mixture of gratitude and discomfort. He had been alone for most of his time in this cruel galaxy, had spent so long being self-reliant, not needing validation from others, that being on the receiving end of such genuine affection challenged his identity of being the stoic, impenetrable Mandalorian.

So, when he finally comes back to the Razor Crest after catching an elusive bounty, you know exactly what to do to put him at ease, to show him how much you love him, your riduur.

You catch his hand before he can take any of his armor off.

"Don't. Let me do it," you say gently, tugging his hand away.

He stares at you with that ever stoic expression you know he has on his face right now beneath the helmet. A few beats pass, and he relents, letting his wrist fall limp in your grip.

"Thank you," you whisper quietly, now running your hands up his shoulders.

You start with his baldric and belt, catching it in your grip as you unfasten the clasps. It's surprisingly heavy in your hands, and you're already a bit weary to take off the beskar.

Next, you slip his worn brown cape off his shoulders, the rough material scraping across your fingers. You can still feel traces of warmth around the part that was settled around his neck and shoulders.

Din stands before you, now with his baldric, belt, and cape out of the way, the beskar armor still encases his form. You take a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship of the beskar, tracing the shiny metal with your fingertips. The material is cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the warmth of his body you can barely feel radiating off his form. Din still stands rigid, hands flexing at his side.

His gaze remains steady, a silent acknowledgment of your request. You take charge again, delicately unfastening the clasps of his shoulder pads and removing the plates, and you can feel just how tense even just his shoulders are.

You set them gently to the side and start to work on his chest plate, easing it away from his torso with careful precision. The beskar plates release with a loud clinking sound, revealing the fabric of his flight suit beneath. You can clearly see Din's chest rise and fall with a steadiness that betrays the controlled exterior he presents to the world. With a small grunt, you ease the heavy beskar chestplate to the side, shooting Din a look when he tries to take it from your grasp.

"You said you would let me do it," you whisper, a playful yet stern glint in your eyes.

He sighs through the voice transmitter, yet allows you to continue your process of taking his armor off.

His shoulders sag forward ever so slightly as the weight of the chest plate is removed from his body, grunting with relief as he rolls his shoulders back a few times.

Next, you move on to his vambraces, unlocking the beskar from his arms. As you work on removing the vambraces, the sleeves of his flight suit ride up and you notice the subtle scars and markings on Din's forearms. You're careful to not drop the one loaded with bullets and other small weaponry.

Your hands move with a practiced gentleness, and you can sense Din's quiet appreciation for the care you're taking.

As the small pieces of armor joins the growing collection of beskar beside you, the room is filled with a sense of intimacy, a shared vulnerability palpable between you two.

Din stands before you now, the upper half of his body free from the encasement of armor. The warmth of his skin is more perceptible, and you can see a slight relaxation in his demeanor.

You move lower now, unfastening the straps securing the beskar that adorns his thighs. Your hands brush against his skin, and that's when he starts to shift side to side. You smile to yourself as you set the pieces to the side, letting your hands drag from the back his knees down to his shins to remove the final pieces.

Beskar greaves protect his shins, and you get on your knees to remove them. You don't miss the way his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you on your knees before him, but he refuses to move a muscle.

Carefully, you unfasten the straps securing the beskar greaves, allowing them to slide down his shins. Your hands move with a deliberate gentleness as you catch them, setting them on top of the stack of armor. Now that all of his armor is removed, you can clearly tell Din is now more relaxed, not as rigid.

His head his angled directly at you, the black t-visor of his helmet piercing through you. You smile softly up at him, pushing yourself to standing but not without him grabbing your hand to help you up.

You know what he's thinking. You know what he wants. He'll just never say it.

You press up onto your toes, placing your hands on his shoulders. His hands finally move, coming to rest on your waist as you lean into where you think his ear would be.

"Later," you whisper seductively, and he firmly squeezes your waist in his grip.

You take a step back, now turning your focus back to his leather gloves. Taking his left hand in yours, you spread his fingers out so you're able to slip his glove off his easier. The leather glove comes off smoothly, revealing his calloused yet gentle hand beneath. You set the glove aside, repeating the action on his other hand.

Din watches you with that unyielding gaze, his helmeted face betraying no emotions, and the tension in the air does anything but subside.

As you remove the second glove, you can't help but admire his hands; how large they, how strong they are. They're the tools of a warrior: skilled and precise, calloused and graceful. With his hands now bare, you step closer to him, your fingers tracing the lineaments of his palm. The warmth of his skin contrasts with the coolness of the beskar that once covered him. His hands are strong, yet there's a gentleness in the way he allows you to explore them.

You finally look up to his helmet, clicking your tongue with disapproval. You couldn't really get his shirt off without stretching out the neck over his helmet, and we can't have that, can we? Poor shirt, all stretched out. Oh well! Looks like we have to see your beautiful riduur's face!

You run your hands on the underside of his helmet, tracing the hard edges with the pads of your fingers. Suddenly, you latch onto the edges and slowly start to pull it up and off his head. Din's breath catches as the helmet is lifted, his nose twitching ever so slightly.

The helmet comes clean off, revealing his face, his dark hair tousled from the snug fit. You're met with his intense gaze, and for a moment, your own breath catches in your throat.

You've seen his face countless times, but every time the helmet comes off, it's as though you're seeing him for the first time over and over again.

His expression is more than it's normal stoicism; it's vulnerable, raw. His big brown eyes come into contact with yours as you reach up, your fingers gently brushing through his messy curls. Din closes his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the contact.

"Hi there, handsome," you murmur softly, allowing your fingers to linger on his strands of hair. "You clean up well, don't you?"

His lips twitch in a hint of a smile, eyebrows quirking at your playful comment.

"Are you going to finish, cyar'ika? Or are you going to finish undressing me with just your eyes?"

You roll your eyes at his remark, fighting back a laugh at his nonchalant comment.

"I guess I do have some unfinished business," you reply, hands tugging at the hem of his shirt.

You guide his shirt up and over his head, pulling it off his form and letting it fall to the floor. You're met with his tanned, toned chest, marked with scars, the silent stories of the battles he's fought.

You run your fingers lightly over the contours of his chest, savoring the feeling of his tight muscles and soft stomach. He shivers under your touch at the way your nails drag across his skin, pressing into it ever so slightly. Din watches you closely, his gaze never leaving your hands. With a soft smile, you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his skin between his shoulder and upper chest.

Din's fingers find their way to your hair, but you pull back, now grabbing the waistband of his pants. You tug them down quickly, helping him step out of the pant legs, but leaving him in his loose boxers.

You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and guide him to the bed. There's no rush, no urgency. For both of you, it's a moment to savor, to appreciate each other in a quiet, peaceful moment. Before he lies down, you pull him down for a chaste kiss, savoring the way his lips taste, the way his patchy mustache tickles your face. As he finally moves to lay down, you wordlessly motion for him to lie on his stomach, and he complies. He settles onto the bed, propping himself up with his forearms.

You retrieve a bottle of oil from a nearby table, and the gentle scent of lavender fills the air as you warm the liquid between your palms. You straddle his lower back, and immediately Din is biting his tongue to withhold any premature sounds.

The moment your hands come into contact with his broad shoulders, he's a goner. Your touch is firm yet tender, your fingers finding all of his knots and tension, coaxing them to release.

The room is quiet, save for the occasional satisfied hum or grunt from Din. As your hands move down his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, you slowly feel the tension in his body dissipating.

Your fingers trace the faint lines of his scars, and you can't help but marvel at the beauty of the man beneath you. He finds solace in your touch, a promise that in this moment, he can let go and just relax.

Din's body responds to your touch, his tension gradually melting away. Your hands move with a soothing rhythm, exploring every inch of his back and shoulders. The oil makes his skin glisten in the soft light of the room, and you revel in the way his body looks as though it was carved by the Maker himself.

As your hands work their way down his spine, you occasionally lean down to press soft kisses on his back. The combination of your mouth and hands on him causes Din to shudder, the sensations pulling him into a deep state of tranquility. The rise and fall of his breath shifts into something more rapid, yet you don't catch on quite yet. You lean down, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of his neck, and he responds with a soft hum of contentment

Shifting off his back, you move down to his thighs and calves, continuing to massage his muscles with the same deliberate care. His fingers twist into the thin sheets of his bed, groaning as you knead into his thighs. The tension in Din's muscles seems to subside even more as you move farther down his legs, the oil dripping from your hands creating a smooth glide as you knead his skin.

As your hands move down his legs towards his feet, you notice the subtle tremor in his muscles, a sign that your touch might be affecting him more than he's letting on. You can't see that he's biting the inside of his cheek, stifling every pathetic groan he wants to let out.

You reach the soles of his feet, and he reflexively curls his toes at the sensation. A small chuckle escapes your lips, and you gently press your thumbs into the arches of his feet, eliciting a low, appreciative groan from him.

With a soft smile, you decide to shift the massage to his upper back and shoulders again, allowing your hands to linger in the areas that are the most tense from his heavy beskar. As your fingers work their magic, you lean in close to whisper in his ear.

"Almost done," you murmur, your warm breath sending shivers down his spine. "Does it feel good?"

Din responds with a throaty, affirmative noise, and you can't help but smile at the effect you're having on your typically stoic Mandalorian.

Your hands trace patterns over his skin, kneading, massaging, and occasionally trailing higher than expected. His breathing becomes more uneven, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body.

The atmosphere in the room drastically changes from innocent and relaxed to something more sultry, the air thick with repressed tension. You can sense Din's arousal, the subtle shifts in his breathing, the way his muscles tense beneath your every little touch. A playful smile crosses your lips, realizing the effect you're having on the usually composed man.

The occasional brush of your fingers against more sensitive areas elicits involuntary reactions from Din, his groans growing more audible.

"Enjoying this, aren't you?" you tease, your voice a sultry whisper as you lean down to place soft kisses along his shoulder blades.

"Teasing me, aren't you?" he growls back, looking back at you with a heated expression.

"Maybe a little." You smile innocently. "But the best things are worth the wait, aren't they?"

Din responds with a low, husky chuckle, a sound that reverberates through the room.

"Yes," he states simply, his voice catching in his throat when you slide off his back.

You beckon him to turn over onto his back, and he complies. Once again, you straddle him, now sitting directly on his hips, over his crotch. Taking more lavender scented oil, you lather it onto your hands and start to knead into his chest. His hands reach up to grip your ass, squeezing your flesh.

You feel Din's chest rise and fall faster as your hands start to work over his toned muscles. The oil slicks up his chest, and your fingers glide smoothly over his skin. You can practically feel his desire for you that simmers beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. Din's gaze is intense, and you meet it with a playful yet innocent smile.

"Fuck, cyare," he groans as his hands trail up your sides, the touch possessive yet gentle.

As your hands continue their ministrations on his chest, you lean down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. The taste of his mouth is intoxicating, and Din responds with a hunger that surpasses your own. His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you to grind you down over his crotch, and you can feel the pressure of his cock against your core.

"Easy there, Din," you murmur as you pull away from his lips. "We've got plenty of time."

The sound of his name rolling off your lips never gets old to him, and he shudders at the sound.

You sit back, your hands now trailing down his abdomen as you move to sit in between his thighs. Grabbing his hands, you knead into his palms with your thumbs, maintaining an eye contact that you know drives him absolutely crazy. Din's eyes are dark with arousal, and he watches you with a hunger that sends shivers down your spine.

Eventually, you finish the massage after you feel the tension fully dissipate from Din's body. He lies there, relaxed and content, basking in the afterglow of your touch.

Without waiting any longer, you finally give the man what he wants. You bring his hand up to your mouth, and without hesitation, you stick two of his fingers in your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his thick digits as you maintain eye contact with him, eliciting a low growl to escape from the depths of Din's throat.

"You- you fuckin' tease, mesh'la," he growls as he starts to sit up. You take your free hand and push him back down, not letting him sit up.

You push his fingers deeper into your mouth, sucking them harder as your tongue runs over the pads of his fingers. Your other hand comes up to his thigh, resting dangerously close to his now fully erect yet still clothed cock.

After a moment, you release his fingers with a wet pop, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Din's breathing has become more ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with anticipation and arousal.

"Feeling better?" you ask innocently, sliding your hands up and down his thighs.

Din nods, swallowing thickly as he locks his eyes onto yours. Without breaking eye contact, you start to slide off your shirt, slowly revealing your skin beneath. Din's gaze intensifies as you slowly lift it up and off your form. Once your shirt is fully off, you let Din rove over your form, and you revel in the way he looks at you with a thirst that mirrors your own.

He tries to reach out for you again, but you stop him.

"I'm still not done. Be patient," you say gently, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

"Mesh'la, how can I be? I have to reward you; you've been so good to me, too good for me—"

You press a finger up to his lips, silencing him.

"Please, let me make you feel good. Please. You always take care of me. Let me take care of you. 'M gonna make you feel so good."

He takes a beat, studying your face with his mouth slightly agape.

Finally, he nods in agreement, his eyes on fire. You remove your finger from his lips, giving him a sickeningly sweet smile.

Your hands trail over his shiny, slick chest, down to the waistband of his boxers. Din's fingers twist in his bedsheets, a silent reaction for what he wants: more.

With deliberate intent, you dip your fingers beneath the waistband, teasingly close to his cock. His arousal is quite evident, straining against the fabric, and your fingers brush over his length; a feather light, teasing touch. He watches you with a hunger that's impossible to ignore, and you can't help but feel giddy at the way you make him feel so good, so appreciated, so loved.

Din inhales sharply, his knuckles going white at the grip he has on his sheets. You move your hands back up and delicately hook your fingers into the waistband, pulling it down slowly. The boxers slide down his legs, revealing his cock, and you discard the fabric on the floor.

You take a moment to appreciate your Mandalorian naked in front of you, vulnerable, and yet as powerful as ever in his raw masculinity. What a sight for sore eyes. Every square inch of his skin is coated in the lavender oil, his skin shining under the dim lighting of the Razor Crest. His body is sculpted perfectly, strong and lean, the power of his muscles evident from one look. The scars that span his skin, small and large, have their own story. You reach out, tracing the lines of a particularly prominent scar on the side of his abdomen with gentle fingertips.

Din studies you with a soft intensity, his eyes holding a warmth that he reserves for you, and only for you.

Your eyes trail up to his face, studying every lineament and pore, every little hair and freckle. He's so extremely handsome you could pass out.

How he chose you, you're not sure. All you know is that this man who has promised to be your protector, stay by your side, and be your partner loves you, and you love him.

"You're beautiful," you murmur, pure admiration coursing through your veins as your fingers now trace the curve of his jaw and the contour of his lips. "Absolutely perfect, in every single way. My big, strong, handsome riduur."

Din's mind goes blank, face and ears heating up as his mouth falls agape. He just studies your eyes, your lips, your nose, every little unique feature you have. Swallowing thickly, Din nods his head just a fraction of an inch, but you catch it; he's acknowledging your words, accepting them in his own way.

Your fingers finally find their way down the shaft of his cock, shifting your attention to his member. His breath hitches as your hand wraps around the base, and you begin to move in a slow, teasing rhythm. His eyes flicker to the sight of your hand wrapped around his cock, staring at the way you pump your fist up and down. Your thumb brushes over the sensitive tip, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Din.

You lean in, pressing a tender kiss to the base of his neck, then to his chest. You start to kiss down further, from the top of his chest to his happy trail.

"Kriff..." he mutters, his hands loosely grabbing at your face.

You keep moving, now pressing kisses on the length of his member. His grip becomes sloppier as your lips trail down his cock towards the tip, pressing a feather light kiss on his leaking slit. He grunts as the sensation, sensitive and aching for your pretty lips to be wrapped around his cock. You give a swirl of your tongue around the tip, earning a sharp, deep moan from Din.

"Kriffing- perfect," he groans, his hips bucking a few times at your touch, begging you for more. His fingers weave through your hair, a silent encouragement.

With that, you finally lower your mouth over his cock, eliciting a long, drawn out moan from the man. You rest your hands on the base of his cock, pumping the bottom half of his length while your mouth takes the top half. Din absolutely revels in the way your mouth feels against his cock; hot, wet, and velvety soft. His head rolls back against his pillow as your hands squeeze tight around the base, stimulating every inch of his length. You take him in your mouth inch by inch, sucking his cock gently at first, but providing more pressure the farther down you go.

"Fuck— fuck- ing perfect, pretty girl," he groans breathlessly, making you hum in satisfaction. His hips involuntarily buck up as he feels the vibrations from your hum, causing the tip of his cock to poke the back of your throat. You choke on it, but you steady your breath enough to keep going down.

Din fights the urge to fuck your mouth, gripping onto his sheets tightly with one hand as his other hand tugs at your hair. You release a quiet moan of your own when he pulls your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper.

Din's eyes are half-lidded now, a primal need burning within them. He watches you with an intensity that makes your own desire flare. His sounds of pleasure, the way his hands feel on you has yourself throbbing with need, your core painfully clenching around nothing. Your panties are surely soaked through by now, your arousal having built up just by making him feel good. You press your thighs together, alleviating the throbbing pressure in your pussy.

You continue to move with purpose, lowering your hands to knead his oily thighs as you take his entire length in your mouth, the tip of cock hitting the back of your throat with each bob of your head. You suck your cheeks in, running your tongue along a prominent vein with each stroke.

His ragged breaths and the soft squelch of your saliva and mouth on his cock fill the room, and suddenly, Din is pawing at you. The need for more becomes undeniable, and Din, unable to restrain himself any longer, pulls you up with a sense of urgency.

"Wanna- come in you—" he gasps, pulling at your neck.

You press your thighs tighter together at his admission, moaning on his cock.

"Kriff, cyar'ika, j- just, please," he grunts, and you lift your head off his cock, saliva dripping down your chin.

When you finally look up at him, his eyes are blown wide with need, and he's fully sitting up now. You feel the sudden shift as he drags you onto his lap, his still erect cock pressing into your stomach. You push up onto your knees as Din's hand desperately claws at the hem of your pants, yanking both your pants and panties off at the same time as he mouths the tops of your still covered breasts. Once your bottoms are off, he unclasps your bra expertly, letting it fall to the side.

Once you're bare in front of him, he laps his tongue over your breast, sucking at your nipple as his other hand squeezes and massages your other. The sensation send an electric jolt through your body, and a soft moan escapes your lips. Din's touch is both possessive and tender, his free hand coming to knead the flesh of your ass.

In one solid motion, Din is lifting you up high by your hips, positioning you over his cock. Utterly desperate and aching for your cunt around his cock, he slams your hips down, splitting you open on his cock inside your dripping cunt. Your hands fly up to his shoulders, a warbled scream and moan slipping from the both of you as he plunges deep inside of you, filling you up perfectly. You give yourself a moment to breath, steadying your breath. When he rolls his hips once, you whimper.

"Maker, y- you feel so good," you moan, biting your bottom lip in pleasure.

You squeeze his cock tightly, back arching as you feel every ridge of his cock inside you. His hands squeeze your hips tightly as your hands run down to his chest, and you start placing open mouthed, messy kisses on his jawline and neck. He lets you adjust around him, giving you some time to feel his cock molded perfectly inside you.

"Take me so good...s- so kriffing p- perfect, my beautiful riduur," he growls, fondling your breasts as you sit on his cock. Your thighs press against his as you try to clench your thighs at his words, darting your tongue out to give his skin kitten licks.

Ever so slowly, you start to roll your hips against his, moaning at the sensation. Din hisses, forehead falling on your sternum, his hot breath fanning against your breasts.

"Riduur," he groans again, darting his tongue out over the tops of your breasts again. "Ride me."

Your hands find their way into his dark curls, tugging at them lightly as you start to lift yourself up his cock. The drag of your pussy against Din's cock makes him shudder in pure ecstasy, moving his head to rest in the crook of your neck.

"You- you're the best thing that's e- ever happened to me," you whisper in his ear, then you sink all the way back down on his cock.

He moans, sucking bruises onto the junction between your shoulder and neck. Din's face is flushed from your words and the way you feel on top of him. You lift yourself up a few inches and drop back down, relishing in the way he feels underneath you.

"Never thought I'd find s- someone like you, cyare," he admits in his gravelly voice, tightening his grip on you. "Someone I- I could c- come back to."

"You're m- my home, Din," you reply, your voice a breathy whisper.

You start to set a steady pace, rocking and grinding on his cock. Din grunts at the sudden change in pace, helping you up and off his cock as his broad hands help lift you up and down by your hips. With each bounce, his cock stretches you out deliciously, dragging along your slick walls with ease.

You move your hand down to your catch your clit, circling the bud slowly, building up the pressure bubbling in your core. Your back arches as you start to tease yourself, pussy clenching harder around his cock. Din's head is thrown back in pleasure, hands firmly on your hips as you keep bouncing, reveling in the way you squeeze slightly tighter around him.

Your walls start to flutter around him at the stimulation of your clit, picking up the pace as you chase your orgasm. You lock eyes with his, the rhythm of your hips against his causing him to paw at every square inch of your body.

With your free hand, you guide his strong jaw towards your face, capturing his lips in a searing, passionate kiss. You don't stop moving on top of his cock as you slip your tongue into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on his bottom lip with each kiss. His lips are warm and demanding against yours, responding with a fervor that has you leaning back.

The taste of Din is intoxicating, yet something you can never quite put your finger on. His low growls mix with your soft moans, your hands threading in his curls.

Din breaks the kiss, but rests his forehead on yours. His pants mingle with yours, warm breath tickling your nose.

"Can't believe I'm so lucky," Din grits, and without hesitation, he deftly maneuvers you until you're lying on your back.

You admire the way his chest heaves with a controlled intensity as he hovers over you, his cock still fully sheathed inside you to the hilt. Moving his hands, he presses your legs up against your chest, angling them in such a way to allow for a deeper penetration. The newfound angle sends waves of pleasure coursing through each of you, each movement building up the pressure in your lower muscles.

"Maker, Din," is all you can say as his cock reaches deeper inside you. You're utterly engrossed in everything about him; how perfectly he fucks you, how he protects you, how he always puts others before himself, how he never backs down from a challenge.

You watch as his mouth drops open when he starts to move again, pounding into you with a slow, measured pace. Every motion has your hot, soaking walls sucking him in greedily.

"Fuck me so perfectly, you're perfect," you murmur as Din pulls your legs up onto his hips, effectively spreading you wide open. His whole chest presses flush against yours, kissing your words away when he leans in.

Your hands fly down to grip his forearms that cage you under his body, nails pressing into his skin as he fucks you slowly. Each thrust is met with a soft whimper into Din's mouth as he takes his time, relishing the way your chest feels against his own. The measured pace of his movements builds a heavy tension in your core, drawing out the pleasure and anticipation with each deliberate stroke.

Din's hand finds your clit again, pressing his thick digits against your swollen bud. The added pressure sends electric pulses through your body, and your back arches involuntarily as the pleasure intensifies. Your pussy clenches around his cock, drawing a throaty groan from Din, who revels in the tight embrace of your walls.

"So strong, s- so good," you gasp, your words punctuated by your unrestrained sounds of pleasure.

"S' perfect, cyare," he murmurs against your lips breathlessly, pressing a kiss on your lips once again. He nips and bites at your bottom lip relentlessly. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face closer to you as you mewl into his mouth. Your fingers find their way back into his soft hair, scratching your fingernails on the base of his scalp.

With each enthusiastic response from you, he quickens his pace, the unforgiving rhythm pushing you both closer to the edge.

The feeling of his cock moving inside you faster and harder elicits a cascade of moans and whimpers from your lips, your clit being stimulated nearly to the point of your impending release. He's fucking you hard into the mattress, unrelenting in the way he wants to feel every part of you.

Din, ever the attentive man, knows you're about to cum just from the way your face contorts, from the way your body reacts to the slightest touch.

You can also feel him nearing the edge, the tension in his body reaching its peak with each stroke. His skin is warm and still slick with the lavender-scented oil, intoxicating your senses and making your mind go blank.

"Please, come in me," you beg, wrapping your legs around Din's waist to pull him closer to you. "Please, please, Din."

His skin glides against yours, your hands travel across the expanse of his back, feeling the flex of his muscles as he moves with unrestrained strength.

Din's eyebrows are pinched in pleasure, mouth parted open as he pants. His fingers find the sweet spot of your clit, causing you to nearly scream in pleasure.

"That's it," Din encourages, coaxing your orgasm out of you as he maintains the pressure around your sweet spot.

Before you know it, you're cumming around Din's cock. The first contraction of your cunt around his cock has Din shuddering from his own orgasm, the feelings of your muscles spasming around him pushing him over the edge. His breathing is erratic, hot against your skin.

You writhe underneath Din, whimpering his name as you ride out your orgasm. Din pulls you in for a messy kiss as he cums inside of you, cupping your jaw with one hand as he guides your lips to his in a searing kiss.

Settling down from his orgasm, Din falls on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Your hands run up and down his back, soothing him with the light scratching of your nails against his skin.

The gentle scratching of your nails against Din's back seems to lull him into a state of relaxation, his body going lax on top of yours. His breath and mustache tickles the sensitive flesh of your neck.

Both of you are still panting, trying to catch your breaths from your shared climax. Din's weight atop of you feels grounding, a comforting, welcoming presence that reminds you once again that he is yours.

"Feel better?" you inquire softly, your hands coming to rest around his neck.

Din lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours with a tenderness he reserves only for you.

Din mumbles in agreement, his body completely pliant in your hands. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, the remnants of his panting gradually subsiding.

"Thank you," he murmurs, eyes studying your face intently. "Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum."

Your fingers move from his neck to gently trace lines over Din's flushed cheeks, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"I love you."

Din's eyes soften even more. His hands, calloused and strong, come up to gently cradle your face. Thumbs brush over your cheeks in a tender caress, as if he's committing the feeling to memory.

He pulls you in for another kiss, a sweet, tender meeting of your lips in the aftermath of your care for him.

A thank you, if you will.

As Din's lips part from yours, he rests his forehead against yours, and you can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

You snuggle close to him, the scent of lavender surrounding you both. In the quiet aftermath, the only sound that remains is the beating of your hearts.

. . .

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) Masterlist

#➶-͙˚ ༘✶ din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #din dijarin x reader #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin one shot #din dijarin fanfiction #the mandalorian one shot #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fan fiction #mando x reader #mandalorian imagine #hyperactivelyme

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lovesick-wonderland · 1 year

Text

People Pleaser || b.ch

Summary: In which you can't say no.

Parings: Bull Hybrid! Bang Chan x reader

Warnings: DARK CONTENT, 18+, smut, manipulation, noncon, breeding kink, unprotected sex, manhandling, switch chan, mention of chan lactating, yandere chan, needy chan, chan rambles, pushover y/n, sub y/n, gender neutral y/n,

Minors please DNI

Disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. I do not condone the actions of any characters in this story and the actions do not reflect the idols in any way.

You always had a hard time saying no.

Whether it was saying no to your parents when they offered you more food or your classmate asking to copy your homework, you couldn't reject them. Just seeing their smiles drop, eyes get downcast, and attitude change was like having a knife twisted into your chest.

That's why it wasn't a surprise that you ended up in your current predicament, in the lap of shirtless Chan on your bed, facing him while massaging his swollen chest.

He was given to you by a coworker who bred bull hybrids you befriended. Chan was deemed 'defective' as a bull hybrid due to him occasionally lactating milk, which unfortunately never was enough to sell. During these episodes, Chan's chest would get swollen and red, which would require a lot of care. Since you lived alone, your coworker had deemed him a nusiance and you had a hard time saying no, she had 'gifted' you the bull hybrid.

Chan let out a groan.

"It's unbearable. Please, do something."

You try to leave to get a warm compress for his chest, hoping that would help to relieve to pain. However, as soon as you gave any indication leaving his lap, he grabs your wrist and pulls you back.

"No, please don't leave me. Your mouth, please. I need your mouth on me. It hurts so much."

You pause, giving him a confused look.

"Chan, I'm sorry but I don't think I should-"

"You said you'd take care of me. Right now, I need your mouth on me. It'll help to distract me from the pain, I promise." Chan urged, clearly becoming impatient.

Chan had never done anything to blur the boundaries of your relationship and he was always so kind towards you, helping you cook, clean, and even helping to pay the bills with a side-gig.

Hesistantly, you shift closer to him and attach your lips to his neck. Kissing and nibbling in the area while continuing to massage his chest to the best of your ability.

"Is this okay?" You ask, feeling unsure of yourself, lips brushing against his neck.

Chans breath hitches. "Yes. Please more. Move around, don't just focus on one area."

Complying with his request, you trace your lips lower, landing on the nape of his neck.

Chans resolve crumbles the minute you kiss his soft spot.

"I'm so so sorry."

You let out a squeak as you were pinned to your mattress.

"Chan...? What's going on? Is everything okay?"

Chan doesn't respond, not giving you much time to process as he rips off you bottoms, your underwear coming off too. He doesn't even remove his pants completely, only tugging it down to free his cock from its confines. He aligns himself to your hole, cock red and drooling.

You freeze as you feel his member against your enterance. "Chan-- wait-- I don't-- it's too big-- I can't-- please stop--" Your brain shortcircuits and you squirm, pushing against his chest. You don't want to hurt him.

"I'm so sorry."

He pushes in, rutting in short motions trying to ease himself into you unprepped.

You let out a sob and weakly hit his chest as you feel him sinking into you. You feel like you're being split in half and the burning sensation won't stop.

Chan shushes you and pins your wrists above your head. "It'll be okay soon. You're being so good to me, yeah? My good owner taking such good care of me."

Chan leans down and kisses away your tears tenderly, as if he wasn't harshly rutting into you at a punishing pace, not even giving you enough time to adjust. You lay there under Chan limp, unable to do anything other than take what he gives you.

"You feel so good, so nice and tight around me. It's like you were made for me. Fuck, I'm so lucky I got such a sweet owner like you. Someone else other than me might've snatched you up if it weren't for me"

Chan changes his angle, hitting a spot in you that instinctively makes you tighten up and your toes curl. He seems to take notice and abuses that spot.

"I've dreamed of this for such a long time. I want to start a family with you. Breed you. You'd make such a good parent with me. You won't need to rely on anyone but me."

Your cry harder as feel your last ounce of the control you had over your body slip away. Chan kisses you and your orgasm hits you. Chan doesn't give you time to rest as he continues his onslaught, putting his weight on your wrists and chasing his high.

"Fuck. Take my cum. Take it like the good owner you are."

You feel it as he stills in you. You can feel it as he throbs inside you, painting your walls white with his thick cum.

Chan lets out a sigh as he pulls out, cum oozing out of your puffy hole.

He gives you another kiss before flipping you over onto your stomach while pinning your legs down with his. You slump down, eyes fluttering closed, cheek pressed against the mattress. Exhaustion fills your body to the point of which you can't even speak or move. Dread fills you body as you feel his hard member against your hole.

"One round shouldn't be enough to get your pregnant right? Guess we'll have to go a few more times."

#yandere x reader #skz #christopher bang #bang chan #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #tw: breeding #tw: noncon #hybrid #yandere stray kids #kpop x gender neutral reader #kpop x reader #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts

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justlemmeadoreyou · 7 months

Text

Thigh riding blurb*

Just a little something I wrote in like 15 minutes. Tell me if you like this <3

pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader

word count: 600

here's my masterlist

"That's it, fuck, such a good girl" Harry praises, and your frantic movements on his thigh increase in pace, trying your best to reach an orgasm, so he’d fuck you.

You grab on to his shoulder tightly, thighs burning from the relentless pace you'd established.

You have no idea how you'd gotten into this position. Last thing you remembered was teasing him for not being able to keep his hands off you, and the constant need to touch you in some or the other way. You may have also said that he can't get you off without touching you, and he took it upon himself to prove it to you.

"Harry, I can’t--I more-" you pleaded for the hundredth time, but he wouldn't budge.

"You bought it upon yourself, pet. I was gonna give it to you, fuck my gurl so well- but you had to go ahead and challenge me. And you know how I feel about 'em." he spanked your bum, making a shiver roll through your spine. You whimper, and lean forward to try and kiss him.

"You want to kiss me, pet?" he asks, voice laced with mockery.

You nod, and he lifts his thigh higher, making it brush softly against your swollen clit, and a moan to fall out of your wanting mouth.

"Ask nicely, and I might." he sits back, resting his head on his elbows. You try to pull him towards you, and beg him, "Please, Harry? I'm so sorry fo' teasing you. I-I didn't mean it."

"Gonna give in just cause y' so cute." he leans forward, and grabs your wrists in his hands. You whine, and he immediately kisses you.

You relax onto him, movements slowing down with the feel of his tongue inside your mouth. His tongue massages yours, saliva mixing and creating a mess, nothing which you both don't love.

He quickly pulls back though, realizing you'd stopped.

"Did I say y' could stop?" he says, and you whine at the loss of his mouth. He gives you a glare, and you resume rubbing your pussy on his thigh.

"No-" you cry out, feeling an orgasm approaching.

You clench your pussy on his thigh, and a rush of wetness seeps through, wetting him. It makes it easier to keep grinding, and he swears at how wet you've become.

"You're so wet, baby. Making a mess on m'thigh." he praises, hand coming up to rest on your damp cheek. You nod, head falling back at the pure ecstasy you were feeling. You grip his waist, his shoulder, anything to keep yourself grounded while you cum.

"I-Harry- I'm gonna-gonna cum" you cry out, as he angles his thigh higher, your clit pulsing and throbbing around the wet skin.

"Let go, baby. Make a mess."

The tight coil in your stomachs snaps, and your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your hand reaches up to grab his hair, and he wraps his hands around you.

"Harry-fuck, fuck me!"

"Good fucking girl." he praises, looking down at your movements as you shamelessly grind yourself on his thigh. You scratch down his back, and fall limp into his body, while he holds you in his arms.

Your pussy pulses, clit aching from being overstimulated. You whimper and roll off him, and he puts you on the bed.

A thin layer of sweat coats your forehead, and his gaze travels down to your face. Eyes drooping closed, lips flushed and swollen, and a soft orgasmic glow on your pretty face.

You look beautiful.

"Look so beautiful. My pretty girl." he praises, kissing your damp forehead.

"Did so good. Gonna fuck you to show you just how good you are fo'me." he smirks, and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist as he drags his boxers down his legs.

. . .

here's my kofi if you feel generous

taglist:

@freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou @avalentina

let me know if you wanna be added/removed!

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