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rosedom · 2 months

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AHH UR SO RIGHT, fucking him over his bike, his pride and joy, while he gasps and moans while blubbering on how good u make him, how good it is.

AHHH him in leather too, he'd look so fine with a leather jacket bro omfg (≧▽≦) the way he'd tremble when you'd bite his neck, marking him up all from his neck to his shoulders as he tries to he quiet, embarrassed that he's feeling this good with you railing him over his precious bike

Maybe he's known as the "bad boy," the complete opposite of you,, and nobody would expect the two of you to even speak to each other,, but here the two of you are, both of you pretty much trembling from overstimulation and how good you're both feeling aahdbsksbdjs

It's such a good idea omfg ahdhshdbs ur brain is so good it's amazing

-pera

"in an open match, 【 pera 】 has invited WRIOTHESLEY to play . . . dress for the slide

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!male!reader, sub!ftm!wriothesley, modern au, sex against a motorcycle, vaginal fingering, PIV sex, dirty talk + teasing + lowk praise, lighthearted bickering (mid- and post-coitus), slight breeding kink, creaming, creampie, alluded aftercare .

A/N : i know it technically wasn't an invitation, but . . ye<3 + fun references of dad!wrio with sigewinne <33

"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."

Wriothesley is not an arrogant, prideful man. He is humble; he tips generously at restaurants, holds the door open for anybody coming up behind him, greets people—you especially—with a kind smile.

The scars marring his body, the thick leather of his jacket and pants, the spikes and chains worn like jewelry, accessories—it’s intimidating, sure, but on him, it’s hardly such.

Little children—they bound up to him, pulled as if by a magnet. It’s adorable, it’s endearing; and Wriothesley takes it all in stride, smiling that toothy grin of his and giving lollipops and candies from God-knows-where. (He’s got a pocket in his jacket just for sweets.

It’s why he always smells like sugar, beneath his frosty cologne.)

And speaking of children... Wriothesley is so good with ‘em. He holds custody over small Sigewinne, for crying out loud! She’s quite popular in school, too; while she's certainly a ball of sunshine on her own, her father certainly seals the deal for her—especially when he drops her off and picks her up in that hot ride of his:

a goddamn motorcycle.

Now, you’re not exactly an expert in the things: all you know is that it looks badass, and it makes Wriothesley all the more ruggedly handsome to you.

And, well.

It just so happens that, now, you’ve got this ruggedly handsome, sugar-frosted man all for the taking, spread out across the seat of that damn bike. He’s got his usual get-up on for when he rides—leather jacket, torn jeans, simple tee—, his hair a mussed up mess from where he took off his helmet. The helmet is resting precariously on the back seat, a support for Wriothesley’s body as you kiss him silly.

“Hah—wait, wait,” he’s pushing you back, breathless, his leather, fingerless gloves accentuating his fingertips, the short, bitten nails of his. His cheeks are tinged pink, and he looks good enough to eat—to devour.

You hum, tip your head to the side to nonverbally ask, What’s up? but Wriothesley’s twisting around just-so, just enough to grab his helmet. He passes it off to you—with, to your delight, shaking hands—, and asks, “Can you put this on the ground?” You raise a brow, taking it anyway to do as he asks, and he continues, sheepish. “I—ah, I don’t want it to fall.”

You laugh, then, corralling back up to him once the helmet’s safely deposited on the grass (and not the pavement, thank you. You’re not a monster, letting something as sexy and sleek as that helmet risk getting scratched up).

“Oh?” You lean back in, making like you’re about to kiss him again—kiss him proper, now, without worrying about the precarious balance of his beloved helmet—, but you dip down at the last second to press hot, searing kisses across his throat. “Why would it fall?” you continue, chuckling at the soft whimper that falls past his lips. “Unless you’re thinking about something naughty.”

He goes silent; the motorcycle rocks, just a little.

You pay it no mind, though. “Dirty, dirty boy,” you coo instead, lapping at the heavy thrum of his pulse. He groans, strong, leather-bound hands coming to wrap themselves around your biceps, yet he makes no other noise besides the quiet sounds of each exhale.

Soon enough—because it seems Wriothesley truly is intent on keeping it zipped—, your mouth has landed on the softest, most tender part of his neck. You hone in on it like you’re some type of mosquito blood-sucker, lips wrapping around his skin and sucking, suckling, working your tongue over it until it blooms a pretty shade of purple.

You tire quick, though, of the lack of vocal reply from your lover. “You can’t tell me you haven’t fantasized about this already,” you murmur, suckling a new mark opposite of the first one you’ve set prominently, “about me, about me fucking you jus’ like this...” You slide your hands up from his side to cup his jaw, thumbing at the subtle stubble as he looks up at you with such icy-blue irises.

You don't expect Wriothesley to nod. “I do,” he adds on, to really fluster you.

“I—ah?” You hiccup, pause, bite at the side of his neck mere inches above your first mark. “Gimme the deets.”

(It’s fun, to be immature like this.)

He huffs above you, gentle laughter shaking you from where you suckle bruise after bruise after bruise, leaving him looking like he got mauled by a bear, or whatever. (Your possessive heart soars at seeing your claim spread across his skin, where even his jacket collar can't cover.

Everybody will know he's yours.)

“Stop talkin’ like that,” he grumbles—the effect lost by the way he laughs—, “you sound like a teenager.”

“A horny teenager.”

He barks out a true laugh at that, the sound spilling into a soft moan when you suck at the slight hollow of his throat, the area oversensitive because of the scars. “You're insufferable.”

“And hard,” you murmur, rolling your hips down into him. The motorcycle creaks at your movement, but, this time, it stays still—perfectly still. (You thank Wriothesley for the care he gave his bike, going as far as to invest in a good and proper kickstand.

He definitely didn't imagine this when buying that, though.)

It's time to up the ante, then (to really test the give of the product.)

“Lemme fulfill those dirty fantasies of yours, sweet thing,” you coo, suddenly dropping the pretense of light-hearted teasing and diving right on into adopting that tone of voice you know makes Wriothesley utterly helpless in his arousal.

Yet, “Sigewinne rides on this with me—” he tries to say.

“So?” You dip down, hot breath fanning against his lips. His eyes cross to follow your descent, trained on your mouth getting closer, closer. “I’ll clean it.

“Besides,” you continue, rubbing the tips of your noses together. His own breath tickles your face. “I want you to be reminded of this. Every time you go on a ride, you’re gonna be thinking about this—about me, about the way I ruined you right here, right on your precious lil’ bike.

“You’ll always be reminded of this.”

You don't expect the way he mutters, all breathless off of nothing but the pleasant ache across his neck from the hickeys and your dirty, dirty words—it’s a simple, a quiet but gruff, “Good.”

“Good?” You tip your head to the side.

Wriothesley only huffs again, pulling you closer with the hands he's moved to your shoulders. You swear you can feel the grooves of his gloves through your own shirt. “Good,” he repeats, easy confidence dripping from his voice. (You want him to drip with something else.) “I want to remember.”

And, really, the grin you give is downright ridiculous, this love-sick, dopey thing that has no place in such a charged environment; but Wriothesley shares it with you, your own private smiles, and then he's surging forward and pulling you down to meet him in a desperate kiss, one all tongues and teeth.

“Now quit talkin’,” he drawls, licking at the roof of your mouth, “and make g-good on that promise.”

“Promise?” You chuckle, dark, a play out of Wriothesley’s own book. It doesn't fit you, really—you, the epitome of a good boy, a handsome sonuvabitch who has grandmas tripping over themselves trying to marry off their granddaughters. (“Oh, isn't he charming, sweet Cecily?”

“Grandmama, I’m a lesbian.”)

“I didn't promise you anything, Wrio,” you coo, but your mouth and hands are hardly on the same wavelength; as you tease him with your words, dripping straight sin, your hands are unbuckling the heavy metal strung across his hips, thumbing down the fly ‘til you get your fingers wedged right between his thighs. “Maybe I should have you beg, hm? Beg to be ruined right now, right here on the same bike everybody sees you ride around town in.

“Oh,” you murmur, then, an idea springing to your mind as your fingertips press to the throb of his cock even through his briefs, “isn’t that an idea?” He whimpers, the sound so soft, so—so unbecoming, if you didn't know Wriothesley the way you do. “E’rybody’s gonna see you ridin’ this, and they're not gonna have a damn clue, are they? They're not gonna know the way you spread yourself so eagerly across her pretty seats—” you tease him by calling the bike a her, knowing how peculiar Wriothesley is about personifying the thing.

He nods, hips humping desperately into your fingers. The whole time, he's making these other soft sounds, and you're taken, over and over again, by how lucky you are to have such a strong man at your mercy. “Please,” he begs. “Quit talkin’, and fuck me.”

Snickering, you bump your palm against his mons, saying, “But you love it when I tell you all the things I’m gonna do to you.”

Unable to even deny it, he groans, deep and throaty. “I do,” he acquiesces while you take away your hand and help lift him enough to shimmy down his jeans and boxers both, “but I’d love it better if you'd do more than just talk.” You leave the fabrics bunched mid thigh as you stand him up proper and spin him around, pressing him gently into the leather upholstery.

It’s quick, after that, to curl over the heft of him, to nudge your fingers back down between his bare thighs to tease at this thick cock, his throbbing cunt. He's soaked, off so little, and it's easy, too, to slide in one, two, three, working him open in soft, gentle movements that stretch him without a biting burn.

“I’m ready,” he bemoans, shimmying his hips ‘til he bumps against your own erection, tenting at your own pants. “Fuck me!” His hips move, tantalizing, teasing, and you find, unsurprisingly, that pre-cum is seeping through the fabric of your boxers.

“Fine, fine,” you murmur, pressing your fingertips against his g-spot for the first time today, the spot swollen beneath your touch. He mewls, chasing the pleasure, and you give it to him readily as you dig your cock out from your fly, barely pushing your pants down enough to rest just past your balls.

Now that your cock’s out, you slide your fingers from his wet, loose heat. (It never ceases to amaze you, how loose a cunt he gets when he's sufficiently aroused. He opens so easily for you, sopping off of nothing but some words, some foreplay.)

No matter how wet he is, though, you're still careful to further slick him up with lubricant. You dip into him just-so, just enough to slather his hole and cock both in lube. He starts, slightly, at the starkness of something cold against where he's most hot, most sensitive. “Ah.”

Grinning devilishly against the nape of his neck, nosing down the high leather collar of his jacket, you drag out your fingers, terribly slow; and, only when you're sure Wriothesley is well aware of just where your hand is, you slather your own hard cock with the mess of lube and his slick.

“Ready?”

He huffs. “I’ve been ready, babydoll.”

You laugh at that, nudging your cockhead up and into his loose hole. The resistance is hardly evident—really, his body gives so easily for you—, your cockhead popping in in that perfectly saccharine way that always makes you groan low, makes Wriothesley whimper high in his throat.

“So open for me, babydoll,” you coo—his own word against him—, one hand dropping from his hip to brace against the seat of the bike. It hasn't gotten truly unsteady yet, but you always like to err on the side of caution when your beloved is involved. (Plus, you’re really not keen on having to buy a replacement bike for him.

A year’s salary alone probably couldn't buy a bike as souped up as his, the years Wriothesley put into the thing paying off beautifully in the long run. That damn bike's been around longer than you’ve been his boyfriend.)

Your cock slips in quick, easy, smooth, sliding right in down to the hilt, where you pause to let him adjust to your size. And, like clockwork, he shuffles his hips side to side against your one-hand hold and breathes out a low, whistling breath, says, “Okay.”

With that simple word—that small phrase, really—, you’re drawing your hips out slow n’ slick, the sound frankly obscene in the quiet around you. His bike doesn't so much as creak this time, either: it’s silent but swaying in time with your thrusts, barely noticeable and not at all that important, supporting the weight of you both and the heft of your next tender thrust.

Nosing at his sweat-damp hair, you drawl, “Look’it you, sweetheart, all open n’ pliant for me on my cock. You’re takin’ it so well, pretty thing right on your pretty bike.”

“Baby—” he starts to say something else, but he gets cut off with his own moan, your thick cock budding up against his g-spot. You feel him froth around where you're balls-deep in him, and you slide your hand from hip to mons.

“Want my hand, Wrio?” you ask, fingers brushing the mess of black curls sprouting from between his thighs.

He nods vehemently, his bangs splayed across his sweaty forehead. God, if anybody walked by, drove by—they’d get an eyeful of your Wriothesley, fucked silly and hot by your cock; they’d get their heart’s content of punked-out Wriothesley, leather gloves and leather jacket spread across leather upholstery, his accessorizing chains rattling off with each thrust.

But Wriothesley is yours and yours alone; you wouldn't dare share the sight with anybody else. As such, you curl yourself further over his stretch-out, prone body, breathing hotly against and moaning against the blushing shell of his ear.

“There we go,” you murmur, taking to circling the throbbing head of his cock with a gentle finger. He mewls into the air, his head almost limp on his shoulders. “There we go.”

“F-feels good,” he moans as he tips his head into yours. “So good.”

“Yeah?” you ask, rhetoric, switching from circling to stroking him, your pointer and middle finger lightly squeezed on either side of his straining erection, moving forwards n’ backwards in gentle undulations. You swear you can feel his heartbeat in each throb of his cock, driving you to give it to him better, sweeter. “I can feel you throb for me, sweet thing: are you already that close?”

No longer trusting his voice (which is a shame, really, considering how much you love to hear those ruined syllables pass from his lips), Wriothesley can only nod, letting his head loll even further forward ‘til he’s practically curved over the seat of the bike. You follow him all the way down: you, wrapped over his curled back; and him, head pillowed on his crossed arms. A shimmer of sweat makes itself known on the sleeves of his jacket, the leather of it catching the sun. He’s devolved to helpless moans.

While he trembles beneath you, around your cock, you hone in on that perfect angle—the angle of your fingers stroking him off, the angle of your cock bumping against the spots deep in his cunt that never fail to pull Wriothesley apart. “There we go,” you repeat, your own words coming out muddled with the pleasure threatening to pull you under, instead. “‘m gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up ‘til you can’t take anymore—y-you want that, baby? Want me to breed you while you cream my cock—”

“—yes!” His voice is shot to hell, this raspy thing that’s somehow thrice as gruff as normal and equally as hot, as absolutely, resolutely ruined. “Yes, yes! Breed me, w-wanna be bred...” He tapers off with a whimper, cunt beginning to tighten up around you as his orgasm threatens to pull him under with you—no longer just apart, but wholly wrapped in you, safe and protected.

“Cum for me, then—mm—, Wrio, Wriothesley—”

He whimpers, again, and you barely catch a whisper of your own name in the intelligible mess before you’re cumming, too, your cock pulsing with each involuntary squeeze of Wriothesley around you. Even as blood rushes through your ears, though, you’re whispering sweet words—nasty words, each one making him whimper n’ whine—, your fingers—long-trained, by now—keep up the gentle strokes of his cock until he’s too sensitive to go on. You withdraw them slowly, even as you’re still pumping him full with cum, even as his cock is still helplessly twitching and cunt still milking you for all you’re worth.

Coming down from your highs, then, is a slow, drawn out thing. You stay seated to the hilt, but you tease at the way his cunt’s spread open around the base of your cock, your fingers coming back covered in opaque white. He whines and weakly kicks his leg back, but you only laugh, bringing his cum up to your lips, tongue darting out to lick it clean. You groan—more-so for show, to get a rise out of your boyfriend—at the taste, and he seems to finally find his voice at that.

“Quit it,” he says; and, damn, did you do a number on his voice. It seems to have dropped an octave, all syrupy-slow and gruff in that way he always gets post-coitus. “‘s nasty.”

“I’m nasty?” Laughing, you nuzzle your cheek against the back of his head, cat-like in your affections. “You begged for it.”

Wriothesley groans. When he attempts to lean up, you help by wrapping your hands around his abdomen—surely leaving a patch of saliva somewhere on either his tee or jacket—and prop your chin on his shoulder... all while you’re still balls-deep.

“Hi,” you say, grinning. You can feel his eye-roll.

But he says “hi” back anyway, letting his head fall back onto your own shoulder. He tilts his face towards you and meets your gaze with a satisfied sort of smile.

“Well?” you ask. “Did I live up to your fantasies?”

He nods. “And more,” he adds; but then he’s pulling off of and away from your cock, leaving you no time to dwell on it. “I starkly remember you saying you would clean my bike.”

“I did.”

“Get to it then.”

You grumble, though, tugging him back into your with the bear hold you’ve got wrapped across his torso. “You and the bike,” you finally correct, “and you come first. C’mon.”

Whether or not you actually get to cleaning that leather upholstery, well... Wriothesley may be driving Sigewinne to school tomorrow while sitting on a barely-there, all-dried patch of his and your cum.

i got rlly carried away . . this was 3k words before i even knew it >< . . but: was this inbox from february? ye. does my pera anon still show their face? idk ! if ur still here, this is dedicated to u, honey <33 i know this may feel shallow of me, but i really do miss u guys when u disappear (；′⌒`)

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

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Pre-tlou Joel being part of a raiding group, coming across reader, and Joel claiming her for himself. Possessive non con 🥵

Raider (Original)

800 words, dark!Joel Miller x f!Reader

RAIDER MASTER LIST | joel master

WARNINGS - NSFW I8+ Noncon (via implicit threat) unsafe PIV, pet names and praise, oral m, dark, posessive. Joel can pick reader up. Obviously do not condone these things irl.

"Drop her," he booms at the men who are dragging you kicking and screaming as they bicker about who goes first. "Now."

"Relax Miller, there's plenty to go around," one of the guys says and beckons him to join. "Ain't that right, sweetie?" The man adds, lifting your chin with the butt of his rifle.

Miller raises his gun. "I said drop her." They don't. Miller fires a warning shot and they finally do. "Tired of you rookies," Miller says. "Show some respect."

"Yes sir." The men compose themselves and disperse.

Relief washes over you. He's saving you. You're going to get out of this unscathed. You stand up and begin to hobble away, sore from being smacked around.

Miller trains his gun on you. "Don't you fuckin' dare."

You raise your hands in surrender.

"Good girl, now c'mere."

You hesitantly approach him and he throws you over his shoulder. He carries you back inside, into a bedroom, and throws you down on an old mattress. Another man approaches and stands in the doorway. He tells Miller "Oooh, nice find." The man starts unbuckling his own belt.

"Did I say I was sharin'? Go do your goddamn job." He aims his gun at the man. The man gulps, buckles his belt, and scurries away. Joel closes the door behind him and locks it.

"Alright now, sweet pea." Miller unbuckles his belt. The blood drains from your face.

"Be a good girl and this'll be over quick, okay?"

You nod. At least there's only one of him.

He palms himself over his tactical pants then takes out his raging erection. It's imposing. You're afraid.

His boots thud as he approaches the mattress. He looms over you. "Now, you're gonna suck this cock and you're gonna like it, understand?" He strokes himself and his brow furrows as he looks at you.

You nod.

"Cause you don't want me passin' you to those guys, trust me."

You nod as tears prickle your eyes. You get up on your knees and take him into your mouth - not all of him, it's impossible, but you try. He puts his hands on the back of your head and fucks your face.

This can’t be over soon enough, but you also can’t deny a feeling growing between your legs. Having his cock in your mouth makes you tingle. It’s so hard, and his precum tastes nice and salty.

“Look at me,” he demands. You don’t want to look him in the eye, so you focus on his messy brown hair. It’s nice.

“Doin' great, sweet pea. Now do me a favor and pull down your pants.”

You take him out of your mouth and wipe the slobber off your lips. He half-smiles with a twinkle in his eye and strokes himself as you pull down your pants.

“Where do you want it, sweet pea?” He squats down and fingers you. Your cheeks burn when he smiles at your wetness. “This one?” he asks and enters you with two fingers.

You nod. It’s preferable to the alternative.

“Alright, you want it like this or you wanna turn around?”

You still don’t want to look him in the eye, so you turn around on all fours. He yanks your pants off to make room for himself between your legs.

“Good girl,” he says. He kneels behind you, then you feel the smooth head of his cock at your entrance. He plunges into you about half way with a grunt, pulls back a little, then plunges forward again, bottoming out with a throaty sigh. Your eyes well up in tears, but your body welcomes the intrusion.

“Damn, you’re tight,” he says as he fucks you, hands on your hips, pulling you back with each thrust. “Good thing I kept ya all for myself. They would’ve ruined this pretty little hole.” The tip of his cock pushes a special button inside you with each thrust, and you begin to unravel.

He’s quiet for a minute, save for his grunts. His grunts turn into moans, then you feel him twitch inside you.

He pulses violently, his large hands jerking you back into him as he pumps you full of hot cum. His pulsations send you and you groan as your own climax is pulled from your depths, contracting on his cock.

“Well damn,” he says when you’re both finished. “It’s a good day for both of us.”

He pulls out and you collapse onto the mattress. He comes around and looks you in the face and you look up at him with watery eyes. He cups your cheek affectionately and reassures you he’ll guard the room for you until everyone’s loading up to leave.

6 month note: Thank you so much for reading! I know this is old by now, but I still really appreciate your reblogs and comments. 🥹🖤 when I start to recognize raider superfans I try to follow.

You can follow @toxicfics and subscribe to notifications.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #dark!joel #dark!joel miller #possessive!joel #toxicanonymity ☠️#pedro pascal fic #creepy!joel #raider!joel #raider!joel miller #OG!raider☠️#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tw noncon #raider joel #raider joel miller

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kaiscumsock · 8 months

Text

it’s october

they’re coming out of hibernation

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spidergutz-writes · 8 months

Note

Time to get slutty, bestie..

I’m a whore for Michael getting mad when Reader gets embarrassed about hiding their sounds while fucking. I love it when he gets extra rough bc of it. 😩

Anything to do this this and breeding kink (without the kids LMAO) PLEASE AND THANK YOU 🙏

YOUR FR BLESSING ME WITH IDEAS 😩😩😩

bestie it’s cool we’re all whores for him !

(I try to keep this as gn as possible if I fuck up im sorry ;v;)

I’m doing HC’S for this cause it’s late and ya gal is eepy

WARNINGS: smut. Obviously. Being dicked down by a hot man (Michael Myers) NO BETA /PROOFREAD WE DIE LIKE REAL MEN

Michael is extremely attentive, so you’d be a fool to think he’d let your silence last.

only he’s allowed to be silent, but you? God no he just

your silence is a challenge to him, and he’s going to break you for it

it only takes a moment before he’s snaking his hand up to your throat, and squeezing. Not enough to really hurt or kill, but merely just a warning 👀

man’s already pounding into you, sloppy sounds of skin on skin filling the room, but it’s gets all the more vulgar when he grabs your legs with his remaining free hand, and pushes them up onto his shoulders, and absolutely FOLDING you into a mating press.

his own grunts get a little louder, and if you really focus (you can’t) you’d be able to hear him groan and moan a little.

this intense position, his fast pace, and the hand squeezing your throat finally has you making noise, and I could bet you could just feel his sly smirk

Michael was unknowingly a man of pride, and finally hearing you moan and cry out his name? Has him so hard it fuckin hurts

the sudden rush of just everything has micheal going erratic, his breathing heavier, his pace inhumane, and the hand that was once on your throat, is now pushing your legs back a little more, the mating press he had you in was just the cherry on the top.

when your own orgasm finally washes over you, it takes a good couple (twenty) more thrusts for him to cum

ISTG THAT MAN HAS SUCH GOOD STAMINA HUFUFUFUFUF. ~~~~~~~ heavy breathing and panting fills the room, and as Michael finally pulls out, his cum slowly dribbles out of you, but he wastes no time in fingering it straight back into you, his eyes a dark steel grey, bordering on black. he hums, and leans back to admire his work on you. The bruises already forming on your neck from his intense hold has your thighs clenching. ~~~~~~

HEY WOAH IM SORRY I KNOW YOU REQUESTED THIS LAST NIGHT I FELL ASLEEP ;0; YA GAL WAS EEPY ✌️✌️✌️

anyways, as always, give me constructive criticism!!! I can’t grow as a writer without knowing my mistakes!!

(Please give me more requests tho I’ll frfrfr kiss you, I’ll give you a smooch.)

#The shape #michael myers x reader #peepaw myers #og michael myers #michael myers #michael myers smut #micheal myers #slasher x reader #s #halloween

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lovechai · 1 year

Text

nsfw.

thinking about how alhaitham always seems too shy, too afraid when it comes to initiating physical intimacy with you. you were his first, and as he had no prior experience aside from those nights with you, he feels uncertain as to how he'll approach you. it's a wonder how you make it look so easy. you are usually so forthcoming with your wants and needs, and him, well, he really is a feeble scholar.

but god, when he finally does it, when he finally lets go of that rational thought holding him back, you could only think about how possible it is to want someone more than ever to the point that it drives you insane. if only you knew how you had already done that to him.

you look all too alluring sitting beside him in your comfy sweater and short skirt. that short skirt. how on teyvat could he focus on his book when the mere sight of you invites all of those obscene images? you're sitting there enjoying the new light novel you've gotten from inazuma while alhaitham is still on the first page, words and letters remaining foreign as he's already hard thinking of fucking you right there and then.

so, to your surprise, alhaitham shuts the book close and throws it on the coffee table. there's a look of concern on your face, but that is soon replaced with fluster when he suddenly slips a strong arm around your shoulders to bring himself closer. you feel his lips against your temple, his warm shaky breath sending shivers down your spine and to your core.

you should be saying anything, but your words die on your tongue when you feel his fingers lightly trail across from your stomach down to your skirt. his fingers easily find your clothed slit, and you could only gasp at him pressing at your dampness through the sheer material of your panties. it's embarrassing how you're already leaking from a few light touches, but fuck, you could never resist him, especially now that he's coming onto you like this.

light novel long forgotten, you grip at his thigh and spread out your legs a little further. and does he take that chance to move your panties to the side. a few strokes immediately leave you whining and feeling lightheaded.

"habibti," alhaitham whispers into your hair, and with that, he relishes in the way his middle finger slips into your wet cunt without any resistance. he gives it a few more thrusts before he slowly adds another finger that has you heaving.

his fingers are so long and thick they stretch you out, and he's pumping them inside you so good that you can't help but want for more.

"haitham, need you," you mewl, throwing your head back so you could get a glimpse of him.

and when he catches you looking at him through half-lidded eyes blown out from pleasure and lust, alhaitham doesn't think twice. he has to have you right now.

#love snippets #love talk #i want him right now !!! :(#and yes i sacrificed my sleep to write this #AAAAAAAaaaAa hmnnhjngh #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #alhaitham #genshin smut #alhaitham x reader smut #genshin impact #small edit at the end bc i just realized tumblr bugged out and deleted the og ending :( icb it was incomplete all this time

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hypnobun-e · 1 year

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objectification short

My head is so foggy. It’s been days since I was able to do so much as string two thoughts together.

It’s because of her.

She keeps...grabbing my tits whenever she sees me. Especially if it looks to her like I’m becoming more lucid. As if she knows when I’m about to come out of my daze.

And she handles me so roughly. Leaving bite marks on my sensitive udders; placing my nipples in her mouth and sucking until they’re leaky and covered in her spit.

I’m feeling less and less like a person each day. My brain is nothing but a haze of pleasure.

She’s just turning me into a pair of breasts. No thoughts, no words, just bouncing and sucking and milking.

She even calls me “Tits”. It’s really all that I am...just a pair of boobs...

Isn’t it terrible? 🥵

#lactation kink #objectification kink #og smut

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weremonsterteeth · 7 months

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Werewolf boyfriend who's so afraid of hurting you that he can't bring himself to breed you.

He just knows the moment he feels your soft heat around his dick he'll have to absolutely ruin you, pound you so full of his cum until you’re passed out and limp on his knot while he fucks you awake and starts it all over.

It doesn't matter how you beg for it, he knows how much stronger than you he is and won’t risk any harm coming to his little mate. So he’s guiding you to orgasm as you touch yourself the way he wants you to, pumping into his fist and whimpering each time he has to watch your dripping hole swallow your fingers because fuck that should be him.

He’s so desperate to have you, to touch you, be covered in your juices and your scent. His claws dig into the meat of your thighs as you’re crying out from your latest orgasm and suddenly he’s hauling you towards him and pressing his muzzle right into your cunt, inhaling your scent deeply and nosing at your folds.

He ends up eating you out like a starved animal for hours, tongue endlessly lapping your overstimmed clit. Tears wet your face as you plead with him to just give you his cock pretty please you promise you can take it. If you keep pushing it with him, he'll have to quiet you by keeping you cumming on his face until you can't form a sentence.

His snout presses impossibly closer to your cunt, growls vibrating through your core and adding to the pleasure. His grip tightens on your hips until the flesh becomes inflamed and his claws draw thin streaks of red over your skin. The smell of your blood mixing with the musk of your shared arousal sends him feral and he starts fucking his long tongue in and out of you.

The more he thinks about how badly he needs to knot you, to spill his seed inside you and make you his mate heavy with his pups, the more tense and heated he gets. The only thing that can fix him is licking you, tasting more of you, hearing more of you moaning nonsense and feeling your hands gripping his fur for dear life as he eats you completely stupid.

#werewolf #werewolf smut #monster fucker #werewolf boyfriend #werewolf x human #werewolf nsft #werewolf x reader #monster smut #monster nsft #terato #nsft #wmt og

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shaisuki · 4 months

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it took you a long time to realize that you were your sukuna-sama's favorite.

how could you. there were a hundred of concubines that your master to choose from and you were one of them. different are chosen to lay with him every night sometimes more than three. you didn't complain about it. your master are entitled to do whatever it pleases him and you were fortunate enough if you are chosen to.

that it happens on repeat and you were blind to the scowl of the other concubines who watch you in jealousy of how much sukuna-sama favors you out all of them. your fellow concubines seething in their seat with gritting teeth of being called for the nth time of the moon.

sukuna would not say it aloud that you were his favorite concubine. sure he was that there are other concubines in his harem that shares your attributes but it is nothing to his favored concubine.

the one who could easily follow his orders with no qualms or hesitation. the mere shadow of him is where you already presents yourself. stripping yourself out of the kimono that he specifically chosen for you. fitting for a king like him to feast on a delicacy such as yourself. his cocks hardening at your scent. awaiting for your smooth palms to worship him and hold his cocks. your chunky fingers wrapped around them. pumping them simultaneously while your lips engulfed his two cock heads. sucking them eagerly while he degrades and sometimes praises you for being devoted to him.

this time you didn't miss how hungry his gaze are. his sight narrows at your plump figure below him. the mouth in his stomach salivating in contrast of the thin line in his face's lips. his arms moving in a manner that your brain tells you to run but your cunt is already drenched with your slick for this king you're about to serve. you await for whatever fate he has stored for you. will he kill you tonight out of boredom or he will grant you a another day to see the sun.

it was the latter and the full realization weighing on you were your sukuna-sama's prized possession when you're the only one to be bestowed by being laid in his throne of skulls. your legs separated by his upper arms while your cunt is being feasted by your master.

eyes the color of his enemies blood is staring at you with fascination while he hums in delight. his mouth pressed in your fat pussy while he laps the delectable juices dripping out of you. after ripping the bodies of his enemies and consuming their rotten flesh, he needs something sweet to wash the taste of it and your cunt is the only thing he can think of. sweet as the peaches in bloom and it goes down like honey in his throat.

he doesn't stop. he will only stop after he was satisfied. doesn't matter if you're silently pleading. begging him to stop cause it's too much. you only exist for his pleasure and deep inside you were happy that you have a purpose for your master. you lasted this long after all. one thing that is clear, you're his favorite.

#ᝰ.ᐟ shai's drabbles #chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #ryoumen sukuna x chubby reader #og sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #jjk smut #jjk

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brewed-pangolin · 7 days

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Captain MacTavish is the kind of man to let you speak your mind and opinion freely in the grips of a heated argument.

If he can bellow his frustrated baritone in the midst of a rage, then so should you in your own distinctive finesse and irritated grace.

Although, it always seems to end in you gasping on your words by eating into the pillow pushed into your face.

Stifling a moan as he ruts his hips relentlessly against your ass. His hands tightly gripped into your waist, muffled praises at how proud he is of you mingled into the choked grunts as your silken walls clench around his engorged cock.

#soap squad™️#the brainrot of Captain MacTavish #fights to immediate make up sex #the best of heated tension remedies #captain soap mactavish #captain mactavish #og soap #captain mactavish x you #captain mactavish x reader #soap smut #call of duty #cod

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plutolovesyou · 18 days

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super famous rock band au...enemies to lovers....fake dating....love triangle?....guitarist ellie....drummer abby....singer reader?.....tensionnnn....manager dina....bassist jesse(or we kick him out make a girls only team)..............THE PARASITES IN ME

walk with me WALK WITH ME. any other ideas i can add into this are veeeeeery much welcome THANK UUUUUU bye

#dw spiderels is still priority but this has taken seat in my brain #you will have to pry that trope out og my cold dead hands #maybe some daisy jones and the six influence too......?#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams concept #ellie williams imagine #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson angst #dina nolastname #dina woodward

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

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I really think raider joel is my favorite. He’s the worst, he is such an awful person, but he’s so sweet and tender and I really believe he would protect me and keep me safe and just make me his sex prisoner, but in a really cozy domestic way. He’s so hot I can’t think straight. I’d shoot Jack myself for more raider Joel.

Stash House

850 | raider!Joel x f!reader | masterlist

mood board by @milla-frenchy

Requested: @ess-perspective-blog this is your request hope you like it. @swedishscumfuck for the manhandling. @xdaddysprincessxx for the javi clip.

WARNINGS: I8+ dark!Joel, kidnapping, blindfold, very dubcon exhibitionist P in V, violence (toward men), humiliation, Reader can sit on Joel. This is third. Can read alone or Raider Masterlist.

You’re sitting in Joel’s lap in a van full of raiders on the way to their stash house. He didn’t want you sitting next to anyone else. You're blindfolded so you won’t know the location. Joel's hardness is already digging into you. Then, when they take a dirt road, the terrain bounces you and he swells harder with a deep inhale. His stiff cock vibrates you with the rough ride. You’re throbbing, so wet you might soak through your pants. Joel holds you firmly on his lap, tight against his chest and belly. He rests his nose against your neck and inhales. You ride in silence. The other men obviously have a problem with you being there but are afraid to say anything and rightfully so.

The van comes to stop and Joel takes off your blindfold. They start getting out of the van and unloading.

Finally, one of the men speaks up.

“Should we really let her in-”

Joel isn’t having it. “She stays with me and I’m not gonna tell you again.” From what you’ve seen so far, this feels like a generous warning. The man goes quiet.

Joel wraps a big arm around you and wrangles you inside with your feet occasionally dragging on the gravel. He doesn’t bother trying to hide his arousal. He’s like an animal - his virility and ample size are part of his display of dominance.

At the stash house, there are some men who weren't on the raid that day. Joel forces you into a room that has some old, tattered furniture, contraband and stolen goods strewn about, and a few dirty cots. Men are milling around talking to each other. A few faces you haven’t seen before are sitting on the forlorn couch and chairs. They turn and stare at you like a piece of meat.

“Nice souvenir,” one of them says and they all stand up. They’re like sharks in the water and you’re chum. Joel’s nostrils flare as the one who spoke approaches.

He shoves you onto a cot and says “stay put, sweet pea,” then gets between you and the men and decks the cheeky one in the face, sending him stumbling. Joel picks him up and holds his shirt while he punches him again then lets him fall to the ground and beats him until his face is bloody.

“Don’t even think about touchin’ her.”

You sit on the cot watching, still turned on from the ride. Joel starts walking back to you, unbuckling his belt, chest rising and falling with rage. He wraps a strong arm around you and grabs you by the waistband, manhandling you onto your stomach. Then he rips your pants down.

He slides his fingers against your dripping seam and inhales sharply. “I’m comin, sweet pea hold on” The swollen tip of his cock notches at your entrance, then he slams into you and your mouth falls open with the stretch of his girth. He backs up half way, then pulls you back on his cock as he plunges further into you and bottoms out with a grunt.

The men watch, and you try not to look at them, terrified of what Joel might do to you. You focus your eyes on the haunted stains beneath you. Joel's massive hand holds onto the edge of the dirty mattress for leverage, another hand on your shoulder as he rails you for the third time today, harder than ever. Each time he buries his cruel length inside you, the knot in your core tenses more.

He grabs you by the back of your neck and manhandles you up on your knees, your back arching.He pulls your shirt and bra up over your tits. “Close your eyes, baby.” You pinch your lids shut and he angles you just slightly toward the men.

“Fellas, take a good look ‘cause it's your last."

He gropes your breasts as he brutally pummels you from the back harder, faster, grunting and breathing heavily as his thick cock pistons into you. One of his hands comes to your clit, then he flattens that hand against you for leverage as he holds his other arm across your breasts. He slams into you with more power and speed than you could have imagined and his breath becomes ragged. He tightens his grip with both arms, bringing you as close as possible so his power doesn't send you flying.

With a long shudder, he begins to erupt inside you. He slows his pace but plunges into you just as hard, grunting with each pulse. The pulsation of his cock and the sound of his pleasure sends you over the edge and you fail to suppress a moan. Your face gets hot with shame, but your climax doesn't stop. You clench around his hard cock as he fills you with his seed, and these terrible men watch it all.

You catch your breath. He inhales your neck and his hands gently rove your breasts and abdomen as you briefly recover. He kisses your neck with his mouth closed and whispers, "you did great, baby."

He fixes your clothes and his, then addresses the men again. "Don't even look in her direction. Understand?"

They murmur their agreement then cower away and Joel lets you rest on the dirty mattress facing away from everyone while they unload their new spoils.

Next: shooting practice drabble; Raider 4: Failed Escape

Thank you for reading and engaging!! Y'all are the best. Also, a couple of other raider Joel requests have def been consistent with where I see it going, it's just that idk if we're there yet so hang tight 😉.

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #dark!joel miller #dark!joel #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #joel miller fic #toxicanonymity ☠️#possessive!joel #joel miller fanfiction #raider!joel #raider!joel miller #OG!raider☠️

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