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#rarely draw anything this fast
pointyshoesmf · 3 months
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Temple of Divine
No matter what i do i somehow always return to The Sandman for some reason.
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misdre · 1 year
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i have no time tomorrow so i put together a valentine-ish drawing today.... AU where everything's the same but max is pink. consider
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quadrilioquy · 2 years
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“create for yourself, not just for others!” okay but how
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kissesbyliz · 3 months
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getting caught
(feat. simon "ghost" riley, johnny "soap" mactavish)
cw: smut!! mdni, actually pretty fluffy, dom!simon x sub!johnny and reader
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it was early in the morning, the sun barely present through your windows when you woke up. a soft smile stretched across your face as your drowsy eyes landed on a half awake johnny. you watched as his eyes slowly blinked themselves awake, before he leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss on your lips.
"mornin' bonnie." he greeted you, the tone of his voice low and raspy from having just woken up. on the other side of him, your other partner was still fast asleep, indicated by the slow rise and fall of his chest.
"good morning, johnny." you nuzzled into the warmth of his bare chest with a contented sigh. you basked in the comfort of the early morning, appreciating the feeling of having your boys around you that seemed to be so rare nowadays due to their careers.
...however, it seemed as though your body had other plans. warmth bloomed in your core as a tempting daydream played across your mind. fuck, the tone of his voice in the morning always managed to do things to you. your libido was always so high in the mornings, after all.
you glanced back up at johnny, something close to mischief shining in your eyes. you slowly trailed a hand underneath the plush blanket and down his body, barely grazing his length that was still covered by his boxers. you heard him gulp in response to your touch, a look of warning palpable in his blue eyes.
"would love to, princess. but si' is right there." he whispered to you, his bigger hand moving to circle around your wrist but not applying any pressure to actually stop you. you two weren't allowed to play with each other without simon's supervision, unless you two wanted to be in for a cruel punishment. you only giggled, fully groping his hardening length in your hands as he desperately tried to hold back a moan.
"better be quiet then, huh, johnny?" you teased. "technically, we're not breaking any rules if he's right there."
his mouth opened to counter your words, but any and all attempts at protest left him as your hand slid quicker against his cock. instead, his head fell back against the pillows in pleasure, and you could see the gears turning in his mind as he contemplated your words.
he swiftly peered over his side, checking to make sure that simon was still fast asleep, before letting out a defeated sigh and shifting to give you better access. his bigger hand came up to rest on the small of your back, cradling you to his body as you released him from the confines of his boxers. you slowly worked your hand up and down his length, the precum leaking from his cock aiding in your motions. his brow furrowed in pleasure, soft sighs escaping him in place of the low groans your touch would usually draw out of him.
you bit your lip at the sight of him coming so undone; the soft rays of sunshine always managed to make him look so ethereal in the mornings.
all of a sudden, a muscled arm unconsciously came up to lay across the expanse of johnny's chest. the two of you immediately froze, looking to your lover who fortunately seemed to still be fast asleep. you held back a snort at johnny's disgruntled grimace, unsatisfied from the pleasure you took in making him suffer.
you continued stroking his cock, biting your lip at the sounds of pleasure your fingers were drawing out of him. he was getting close, you noted by the increasingly quickening pants that were muffled under his hand. you twisted your hand just the way you know he likes, eager to bring him to his climax.
"you two having fun over there?" a deep voice rumbled from the other side of johnny. you squeaked in surprise, immediately retracting your hand from your lover's body. looking up, your attention was now directed at simon who was slowly getting up to prop his head on his hand, peering at the two of you. you weren't able to discern the expression he had on his face, but if you knew anything about him, you knew that it didn't mean anything good.
"well, don't stop on my account, love." he encouraged you, eyebrows raising. you gulped, not daring to move a muscle. it was a trap, you figured. he always loved to challenge you to dig yourself into a bigger hole.
"s-si' we weren't doin'--"
"wasn't askin' you," simon shot a harsh look at johnny, causing him to shut up immediately. the younger man sat up straighter as you did, anticipating simon's next words.
the blonde then heaved a heavy sigh, as though he was disappointed that he had to punish the both of you so early in the day.
"i'm gonna finish off johnny here, and you're gonna sit there and watch, princess. since you were so eager to break the rules, you're not getting anything." he declared. his words made you groan in frustration, but a sharp glare from him was all it took for you to quiet down. he sternly directed you to sit on the foot of your shared bed, and you obliged with a grimace, facing the two of them.
simon climbed behind johnny, the man obediently moving to make room for his partner's bulkier body. a big hand soon wrapped itself around johnny's cock, picking up where you left off. you held your breath as you watched simon's hand working up and down his length, every single inch of the sight only serving to further heighten your arousal.
simon muttered hushed words into johnny's ear as he stroked him. you couldn't tell exactly what he was uttering, but you knew it was nothing short of filthy, as whimpers soon spilled out of the younger man as a result. johnny's head fell back against simon's shoulder as he gratefully accepted every ounce of pleasure being drawn out of him.
the sight of your lovers being so intimate with each other made wetness pool in your underwear. your thighs clenched in attempt to sate the aching of your clit for any bit of stimulation, desperate to get in on the action.
"please, simon, wanna fuck him.." you finally whined, squirming from your place on the foot of your bed. simon barely spared you a glance, seemingly indifferent to your needy whines as he focused on jerking your partner off.
"you don't deserve it," he chuckled meanly as he nipped at johnny's neck, leaving marks.
"please si', need to cum," the man on top of him panted, his chest heaving. if the way you were getting him off before had him flustered, then now he was properly ruined, eyes screwing shut in pleasure as his hips bucked up desperately. you were definitely skilled in pleasuring your partners, but simon ultimately knew just how to make the two of you break.
"go right ahead, baby." simon encouraged into his ear, flicking his wrist faster. spurts of white painted johnny's stomach a moment later, as he came with a low groan. johnny panted heavily as he grew lax in simon's embrace, recovering from the aftermath of his orgasm.
you could only watch the exchange, feeling so, so neglected as you stared at the two of them. by now, the heat in your core was growing unbearable, and you needed something to help satiate it.
"wanna fuck her, si', please." johnny breathed as he finally eyed you blearily, head still resting on simon's shoulder. simon hummed, pondering his words as he stroked a thumb over johnny's forearm lovingly.
"that what you want?" johnny nodded eagerly, and you moved closer in anticipation. simon chuckled, nodding towards you. "go ahead then."
johnny didn't waste a second, nearly tackling you as his big arms pressed you to lay down on your plush mattress. you complied with just as much enthusiasm, ridding yourself of your clothes and spreading your thighs wide to invite him in. he fumbled a bit trying to slide inside of you, and the two of you let heavy moans as he finally pressed into you.
his motions were clumsy at first, obviously still a bit dazed from his previous orgasm. however, his pace soon resolved and sped up, hips pounding into you as he desperately worked to bring the both of you to your climax. the two of you were all moans and whimpers, hands stroking all over each other's bodies as you relished in the pleasure.
eventually, you felt that knot start to tighten in your stomach, and you looked up at him johnny with a silent look of desperation. it didn't take long for him to catch on, lowering a hand to work at your swollen clit. the added stimulation made you melt, and you cried out with a gasp as you finally came undone. johnny finished inside of you a second later. the two of you breathed heavily, staring at each other with nothing less than love in your eyes.
however, your eye soon caught back onto simon, who now had his cock in his hand, hard and ready from watching the scene unfold in front of him. the need to have both of your partners overtook your senses, and you cried out for him needily, "want you to fuck me too, simon, please.. i need it."
"never satisfied, are you, princess?" simon snorted, no real heat behind his words. his arms planted themselves on either side of your body as he hovered over you, replacing johnny who had moved away to take a much needed break.
he took a moment to admire your body, leaning down to kiss and lick at every inch of your exposed skin. his hard cock pressed up against your folds, and you couldn't help but whine at his teasing. he shushed you softly, leaning back up before finally, finally sliding in.
he was big, considerably bigger than johnny, and the sheer size of him filling you was delicious but overwhelming at the same time. your face involuntarily scrunched up in a grimace, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. at the sight, simon eased up on his motions without a second thought, bending at the waist to press loving kisses on your face.
"still good?" he murmured, and you nodded pathetically. even during your punishments, he always made sure to take the utmost care of the both of you.
you eventually adjusted to the stretch, and you were soon grinding up into him in need for more. he readily obliged you, his hips snapping into you. pleasure coursed itself through your veins as whimpers and whines spilled out of your mouth.
it didn't take long before you came with a loud cry. simon followed suit, finishing inside of you as well. a feeling of satisfaction settled in your chest as you panted, coming down from the intensity of your orgasm.
simon pulled you to his chest, laying back on the mattress. johnny took his usual place behind you, pulling the blanket to cover all of your bodies. you sighed, feeling complete with both your boys around you.
"love you two," simon hummed, a hand stroking through your hair. "though, let's not break the rules again, yeah?"
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tropes-and-tales · 5 months
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Dyin' for a Taste
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Day 11:  Face Sitting (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x F!Reader)
(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 
CW:  Idiots in love; pining; smut (oral, f!receiving); 18+ only.
Word Count:  4096
AN:  This was requested by an anonymous person!
AN2: When I say this is not edited, please know it is NOT EDITED. Full of typos and sloppy typing. Tropes is a fat-fingered old crone.
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It starts with a joke.
The 141 is on a covert ops in the mountains.  It’s cold—the sort of cold that burns, that makes the bones ache.  You’re posted up in a perch, your sniper’s rifle at the ready if shit goes south.  The rest of the team is in the square below, waiting for the drop.
“My bollacks are gonna freeze off,” Soap complains over the comms, and you snort at the whining tone in his soft Scottish brogue. 
“Shoulda dressed for the weather,” you reply.  “Ghost probably has a spare balaclava.”
“And cover this handsome face?”
“Won’t be so handsome when your nose turns black from frostbite.”
You hear the tsch noise he makes over the comms, the very Soap, very Scottish noise of dismissal. 
“You’ll have to sit on my face then, hen, and warm me back up,” he says.
You’re rarely stunned into silence—you and the guys are always making off-color jokes—but when you open your mouth to reply, you only gape wordlessly.  The silence over the comms grows, expands, until Gaz—fucking Gaz—chimes in.
“I think she’s into the idea, bruv.”
And you can’t respond to that fast enough either, which leaves another long beat of silence over the comms, which likely seems like enough of an answer.
-----
The mission goes smoothly.  The team splits up as planned to avoid drawing attention.  You don’t see Soap again until a few days later when you regroup at HQ.
You think, perhaps, that he’s forgotten.  Maybe that’d be better.  You and Soap get along well, and sometimes he flirts with you, but he flirts with everyone.  It means nothing. 
And yet…
And yet, it’s Soap.  You might be able to lie to others, but you can’t lie to yourself:  you’ve spent many a lonely night with your thoughts drifting to him.  Turning him over and over in your mind. 
Soap MacTavish.  Handsome, almost unbearably so.  He could be a cocky asshole, be the sort of man who knows he’s hot and be insufferable about it, but he’s gregarious.  Friendly.  He’s a happy-go-lucky sort of man—or as much as someone in the One-Four-One can be.
-----
“Been avoiding me.”
It’s a statement, not a question.  Soap corners you in the mess hall, his blue eyes peering at you without guile.  He looks almost concerned.
“I haven’t,” you reply.  You try to shift past him, but he puts a hand out against the doorway, bars you with his arm.
“You have.”  He peers at you closer, his blue eyes somber.  “What’s wrong?”
“Why would anything be wrong?”
You thought, perhaps, that he’d forgotten…but those somber eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, then smooth out as he schools his expression.
“Maybe you think my offer was wrong,” he says.
“I never said that.”  You duck under his arm, but he lays his hand on your shoulder and stills you again.
“You’ve never said anything about it.”  You don’t look at him, but you hear his gentle snort of laughter.  “Your silence is deafening.”
You feel your face start to heat up because he’s not wrong.  Too much time has passed now to address that moment in the mountains.  You should have said something then, spat out some rejoinder to signal that it meant nothing to you, that it was just another dumb joke between you and Soap.  But something about that dumb joke conjures up the mental image of you and Soap, and your face burns in embarrassment.
So you duck from his light grip on your shoulder and it makes him laugh again, then call out to your retreating form, “the offer still stands, hen.”
-----
A month passes, then another.  You get leave for a few weeks and go someplace warm, a beach with golden sand and soft breezes where you can relax and forget the horrors of what you see every day.
Then you’re back on base, then another mission.  Over and over, the same routine.
Through it all:  Soap MacTavish, the team’s Golden Retriever.  Always with an easy grin on his handsome face, a laugh, a joke.  He teases Ghost, he does a passable impression of Captain Price.  He gives Gaz a hard time about their rival rugby teams, but it’s always good-natured. 
He jokes with you, but that joke—the one about sitting on his face—becomes just a joke between the two of you.  You don’t know if the other men have forgotten it, but Soap only brings it up when you’re alone now.
At the barracks, in the rec room, he’s sprawled out on the couch and half-dozing, half-watching a rugby match.  When you walk past, he notices, sits up.  Beckons you over, tells you to have a seat…then thoughtfully strokes his face with that damned smirk and comically waggling eyebrows.
“You’re a jackass,” you call out as you leave the room, but by now, it makes you laugh…and it lightly stokes that ever-burning flame low in your belly.
-----
Another time, he sidles up to you at the range as you study your targets with their tight formation of bullet holes.  He points out one shot, high in the corner of the paper, off of the concentric circles of the bullseye.
“Missed one,” he says.
You scoff.  “One out of….many.”
He matches your scoff with one of his own.  “Might be losing your edge.”
“I’m not.”  You know he’s winding you up, but that missed shot galls you. 
“Maybe you’re stressed out.”
You set the target down on the wooden railing.  “Maybe you’re stressing me out, MacTavish.”
It’s the wrong thing to say.  His blue eyes light up in glee, and he only gets out the first part of his retort—You know what’s good for de-stressing—before you drop to one knee and start disassembling your sniper rifle, ducking your head and hiding your burning cheeks from him.
“…nothing wrong with it,” he finishes as you shut the rifle’s case, and you realize you’ve missed part of what he’s said.
“There isn’t,” you agree.  You stand up and lean a bit on the courage that sees you through each mission.  You look him square in the eye and add, “but you’re just flirting.”
He gazes back at you, a soft smile on his face, only a little teasing.  “Not just flirting.”
“Sure.”  You roll your eyes.
He makes his Soap-branded tsch sound, then he loops his arm around your shoulders to pull you in close.  He smells like…well, he smells like soap, clean with a hint of something herbal.  It’s nothing he hasn’t done a hundred times—in safe houses after a mission, walking out of a bar on a night out with the team—that companionable way he pulls you against him.
“It makes me sad when you don’t believe me, hen,” he chuckles, and it’s low, right by your ear, his warm breath fanning over you. 
You’re not sure what spurs your next move.  You’re a natural-born sniper; you take the measure of everything around you—the curve of the earth, the speed and direction of the wind—before you squeeze your trigger.  You’re the same with people, cautious and feeling out every angle of their intentions before you make a move.  But you know Soap, and the question around his joke is the only uncertainty.
Something makes you act without much thought.  Your rifle case in your hand, your other hand tucked in your pocket, and Soap’s arm slung around your shoulders…the moment is crystalized, will be an easy memory to recall in the years to come because this is when everything between the two of you changes.
“You know what?” you ask, and you don’t allow him to hazard a guess.  Instead, you gaze at him levelly, straight into those bright blue eyes of his and add, “alright, let’s do this.”
It’s comical, how the smile drops from his face, how his mouth makes a little “oh” of surprise.  His eyes scan your face, quick, like he’s trying to find the joke, trying to find proof you’re just having a laugh at his expense.
“Bonnie,” he starts to say, and his voice has a rough edge to it.  His voice is missing its usual teasing edge, and he pauses to study you.  You don’t know if he realizes it, but the tip of his tongue darts out, licks against his lower lip, like he’s really thinking of it now that it could be a reality.
“Bonnie, are you just…are ye fer real?”  His voice is lower and his accent gets thicker, and it sets a frisson of heat shimmering through your lower belly.
You refuse to blink.  Refuse to look away.  “I’m for real if you are.”
“I was never joking about that.”
“Then I’m not joking either.”  You swing your rifle case towards the barracks, playing at bravery but willing the fluttery feeling in your stomach to calm.  “So let’s go.”
Soap—gregarious, convivial Soap—says nothing else on the walk back.  He keeps his arm around your shoulders, though, and his hand settles against your bicep, rubs you briskly before gently holding you there, like he’s proving to himself that you’re real, that the moment is really happening.
-----
Your nerve wobbles a little when you get back to quarters.  Soap’s nerves must have a similar wobble, because he turns to you and his usual boyish grin is gone, replaced by a grave expression.
“You dinnae have to do this,” he says, “if you don’t want to.”
Part of you wants to back out, chuck him in the arm and say it was just a joke.  You could still back out.  Soap is flirty and gregarious, but hooking up would irrevocably change your easy relationship with him.  It could change the tenor of the team.  And yet…
…don’t you both face death every day?  Don’t you see the absolute worst of humanity?  Don’t your bodies bear the scars of your hard, unrelenting lives—countless scars, visible and invisible both?  Don’t you all operate in your own bubbles of loneliness, sleeping alone night after night but crowded out by the ghosts you all haul around?
Is it too much to ask for even a moment of connection, of not feeling alone?
You gaze back at him.  Sweet Johnny MacTavish.  Handsome but not vain, smart but not aloof, funny without being cruel about his teasing.  Is there anyone you’d rather be with?
“I want to do this,” you tell him, and there’s no hesitation in your tone.  “If you do.  If you really were just joking around, then no harm, Johnny.”
His somber gaze softens at your use of his real name.  “Wasn’t joking at all.”  Then he opens the door to his quarters and turns to you, invites you in with a sweep of his hand, and when you walk past him, he lays his palm on your lower back to guide you.
-----
In truth, you’ve never actually sat on anyone’s face.  It’s one of those funny sex acts that you joke around about but have never gotten around to, like sixty-nine (always seemed more complicated than necessary) or food-play (always seemed too messy). 
Soap, it turns out, has never actually had his face sat on.
And it’s adorable, how he sheepishly runs his hand through the longer stripe of his short-shorn hair and admits as much.
“Figured it cannae be that complicated though,” he says.  He huffs out a breath, and you realize how nervous he must be, and it gives you courage to take charge.
“Kiss me first.  Then we can figure it out from there.”
The tame command makes his face light up and he murmurs, “yes, ma’am” in his brogue, and then he does as you say.
If Soap MacTavish is generally the team’s Golden Retriever, bouncing around with a wagging tail, he kisses with far more finesse.  He cups your face gently, reverently and leans forward, brushes the lightest of kisses against your lips like he’s testing the waters.  Like he’s waiting for you to pull away, and when you don’t, he kisses you again.
It’s awkward at first, but only because you’re both so tentative.  It’s uncharted territory.  He must be aware that you’re crossing a line in doing this, you think, and he must not care either.  But the awkwardness melts away quickly because Soap is a damned good kisser, skilled in how he moves his mouth against yours, his tongue against yours.  One of his hands stays on your face, cupping you gently and steering you, but the other hand touches your waist, your hip, slides around to squeeze your ass gently before returning to the dip of your waist.
He tastes like something warm and spicy, like cinnamon or nutmeg.  Everything about him is warm, really:  the way he cups your face but runs his thumb over your cheekbone, the way his other hand holds you steady as he kisses you.  And the way he looks at you when he breaks the kiss, the almost-shy way he tugs at the hem of your shirt and asks if he can take it off.
He’s warm too—his body, his skin as you bare it with each article of clothing shed.  You strip each other in tandem, and the sight of him leaves you breathless.  He’s like something carved by a Renaissance sculptor, but when you smooth your palms over the dips and swells of his muscles, you find that he’s warm to the touch, wonderfully so, and a wave of lust almost takes you out at the knees by how much you want to feel his body against yours, under you or on top of you, every inch of you pressed against him.
Soap must feel the same way about you—he touches you just as gently as before, almost reverent, but his goddamned eyes practically shine when he looks at you, then groans out, “fuck, but you’re stunning, hen.”
He maneuvers you both towards the bed, and then he stretches out across it, and this is precisely why your sexual repertoire has always been lacking:  when a brutally handsome man is stretched out in front of you like a damned buffet, your mind singularly focuses on one thing, and you rarely remember that there’s other, more adventuresome things you could do.
You’re already turned on.  Ever since the two of you walked back from the range, you’ve been on a low simmer of lust, and the desire has ratcheted up with each kiss, with each little grumbling groan of Soap’s, with each sweep of his big warm hands along your body.
So you’re already turned on, so why sit on his face when his beautiful cock—perfectly sized for you, the ruddy tip already leaking precum—is also an option?
And Soap is no dummy.  He must guess at your internal battle because he says your name softly, pulls your gaze back to his face where he smiles that brilliant Soap-smile at you.
“Alright then?” he asks.  He pats his upper chest.  “You can sit right here, to start.”
It hits you all at once how intimate this is.  Fucking, hooking up—that’s one thing.  But sitting on your teammate’s face feels like you’re taking a further step into the unknown.  Oral sex, to you, is already more intimate than regular ol’ intercourse, but sitting on his face feels…even more intimate.  There’s a lot of trust on both ends:  he has to trust you not to hurt him, not to put too much weight or force on his face or neck.  And you have to trust him too, since you’re basically smothering him you with your pussy, and many men are precious little babies about eating pussy.
“I could just…”  You trail off and gesture vaguely at where his erection strains and bobs against his belly, and Soap snorts before he replies, “we could do both, hen.”
When you don’t say anything, when you don’t move, he adds, “c’mon, sweet girl.  I’m dyin’ for a taste of ye.”
The accent is unfair, you decide.  The accent is not fighting fair.  Soap’s Scottish brogue is charming in the best of times, but his bedroom version is thicker, at a slightly lower register, and it’s entirely unfair.  It easily dismantles the rest of your meager defenses, so you nod and then kneel on the bed.  But when you start to awkwardly clamor on top of him, he stills you for a beat and taps his mouth, says, “give me a kiss first.”
And the kiss is unfair too because it reminds you that it’s just Soap, one of your dearest teammates, a man who often holds your life in his hands and whose life you hold in your own.  His now-familiar taste of spicy warmth on your tongue, and his lips curving in a smile against yours when he whispers, “climb on up, hen  Don’t keep me waitin’ anymore.”
There’s no sexy way to climb on top of him.  Do you just kneel by his chest and throw a leg over him?  Do you straddle him lower and scoot up?  You split the difference, try to straddle him on his lower chest and scoot up, but then his one arm gets pinned.  Any other man?  It might be a deal-breaker being so clumsy, but Soap laughs underneath you—a genuine belly-laugh full of warmth that makes you giggle too.  He wrangles his arm free, then lays both hands on your hips and guides you the rest of the way.
This is unbearable intimate too, being so exposed to his bright blue-eyed gaze. You probably have tons of issues around previous men who didn’t eat pussy, who were grossed out by it, but Soap’s eyes practically glitter black with how blown his pupils are.  His face rarely hides its emotions very well (he’s a shitty poker player), and there’s no disgust in his expression at all.  There’s only desire, naked and apparent.
“Tell me,” he says, and his voice is a low growl that sends that frisson of heat straight to your core.  “Tell me what is working for you, yeah?  Don’t go quiet on me.”
You nod, and you wish you could think of something cool or funny to say, but Soap lifts his head a little and presses a plush, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of one thigh, then the other, where both are splayed in front of him, and before you can even beat yourself up for failing to think of something cool or funny, his mouth is on you in earnest.
Soap, a damned good kisser.  It translates to this, his skilled tongue and lips licking at you, suckling at you, swirling against you before he breaks up the pattern with an outright kiss, then resumes his routine.  He traces the tip of his tongue around the firm bud of your clit, the perfect amount of pressure before he snakes it lower, lapping at the arousal leaking from your entrance.  He’s unabashed about it, groans against your feverish skin, and you love him in this moment—love that he wasn’t joking after all, love that he had led you here, where you sit perched on him while he feasts on your cunt and seems to genuinely enjoy it as he does. 
Any other position, you’d lean down and kiss him, or pull him to you and kiss him.  Now, as he groans against you again, you reach down and run your fingers through the longer stripe in his hair.  He must like that, because he groans a third time, and his grip on your hips spasms tighter.
You remember what he asked of you, so when he purses his lips and suckles against your clit, you gasp out a startled “oh!” but then add, “fuck, Johnny.  Just like t-that.”
“Good?”  It comes out muffled against you, and he pauses his mouth long enough to gaze up at you with a smile.
“So good.”  You shift your hand, cup his stubbled chin slick with your arousal—a gentle movement that makes his smile soften too. 
“Like when you call me Johnny, hen.”  Now he sounds a little shy, like he’s edging close to something beyond a random hookup with face-sitting.
“Keep using your mouth like that and I’ll call you Johnny all the time,” you tease.
“Deal.”  And then he’s on you again, laving your sensitive folds with his tongue, his bit of stubble raising a warm burn against your inner thighs.  His hands on your hips pull you closer, and he encourages the slow, careful rhythm when you start to actually ride his face—a languid back-and-forth, mindful of his need for oxygen, while he eats your pussy with the fervor of a starving man.
Your orgasm approaches faster than you thought; you thought you might have to fake it, since you rarely come from oral alone.  But there’s something about this position.  You feel powerful in a benign way, in charge, but mindful of the man underneath you.  You run your fingers through his hair and Soap preens at the touch, just as he preens when you pant out praise for him, tell him how good you feel. How good he is making you feel.
He must sense it because his grip tightens on your hips, but his tongue moves faster and focuses solely on your clit—teasing with the tip of his tongue, then laving it with the flat of his tongue, then wrapping his lips around it and sucking.
“F-fuck,” you choke out.  “Johnny…fuck…I’m gonna…” but you don’t finish the sentence, you keen out a garble of nonsense as you come.
The heat in your belly pools over, spills over in a brilliant wash that courses through your veins, into your trembling legs and up through your body, makes your vision shimmer and crackle with sparks.  Your heartbeat, your panting breath are loud in your own ears, and you hear Soap groan but he sounds faraway.  He teases your orgasm, prolongs it by licking against you until you grip his hair tighter and hold his head still while you clumsily dismount, then flop gracelessly onto the bed beside him.
You feel boneless.  You feel heavy, sleepy, like you could sink into the mattress and sleep for days.  You close your eyes and feel the bed shift, and Soap disappears for a moment.  You hear running water—he must be cleaning his face, you think—but then the mattress dips again and he’s curling his warm body around yours, wrapping his arms around you as he pulls you to him, then settles the blanket over both of you.
“Good, yeah?”
You laugh.  “Yeah, that was good.  Especially for someone who’s never done it before.”  A beat.  “Give me a moment to catch my breath and then I can help you out.”
Soap chuckles above you, and you feel him press his lips to your forehead before settling again.  “No need.”
“But I—”
“Already came.”
The gears in your head turn slow when you’re sated from sex.  Coming makes you stupid.  “Huh?  When?”
Another chuckle, another kiss to your head.  “When I was eating you, hen.”
You turn your head and try to peer up at him.  He looks comfortable and sleepy too, content and sated.  “Seriously?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Told ye I was dyin’ for a taste.”  He shifts a little, pulls you closer to him.  He tugs the blanket more securely around your shoulders.  “If ye want a second round, I’ll need a few minutes.”
You appraise the situation:  the warm scent of Soap, the feel of his naked body pressed to yours, the warm little cocoon he’s created here in his bed.  Of course you want a second round, but you’re sleepy too, and the thought of sleeping with Soap doesn’t seem nearly as terrifying as it might have seemed before he had his mouth on your pussy.
“Or we could sleep,” you offer.
“Sleep,” he agrees.  “Round two tomorrow.”
The doubts from earlier start to surface in your mind, but they seem tiny and inconsequential when you’re wrapped up in Soap’s arms.  You feel sleep tugging at you—he’s already asleep, you think, breathing deep and even against you—so you chance to brush your lips against the bit of him you can reach and whisper good night to him.
But he’s not quite completely asleep yet because he kisses you back, another press of his lips against your head, and he whispers back, “g’night, hen.”
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diarivie · 5 months
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SHMUTTTT, pussy eating, coryo is just yapping tbh, this is like apart of the whole coryo w/ a blood kink thing i got going on rn, this is for u freaks ♥️ this is also like dc so pls beware! he plays with readers blood 😭
18+ after the last night spent with coriolanus, you hadn’t even dared to bring up his certain..attraction to your blood. refusing to be the root of his anger, or worse — him ignoring you all together. now, you’re on your back and coriolanus is in between your legs — a rather rare occurrence but nonetheless, welcomed.
his nose is nudging at your clit and it feels fucking heavenly — he doesn’t go down on you often, but when he does it’s soul crushing delicious. it’s so good infact, that you fail to notice him making his way to your inner thighs, starting off with small, gentle nips.
‘’coryo? why’d- why’d you stop?.’’ you prop yourself on your elbows to get a better view of the platinum hair below you. ‘’you’d let me do anything, yeah? because you love me? s’true, I know it is.’’ you frown ‘’of course coryo, why d’ya say that? is something the matter?..’’ his smile should’ve been the first sign he was going to attempt something — his stupid, stupid smile.
a second, before he bites — deep enough to draw blood from your thigh, you can’t help but flinch and try to crawl away, he’s however, much stronger. ‘’no, no stay here baby..let me taste you again, you taste absolutely perfect.’’ with the way he’s lapping at the wound on your thigh, you could’ve been convinced he’s a monster. maybe he is, he’d never let you think that however, he’s far too calculated — always two steps ahead.
he takes his finger and swipes it against the bite on your thigh, smearing the blood even further, closer, to your core. your heart is beating so fast you’re afraid even he’ll hear it. a glance from those hauntingly blue eyes — and then he’s swiping a drop of blood and placing it right on your clit.
your breath catches in your throat, you’ve never felt so dirty, so ruined. he quickly latches onto your clit, sucking it just the way you like it. ‘’fuck, baby..you’re so dirty, letting me play with your blood like this? letting me suck it off you like you’re some dirty whore?’’ you can only manage a desperate nod — ‘’yes! yes, yes anything for you coryo, anything..’’ he continues his assault on your pussy before he’s back up, looking you straight in your eyes. ‘’you must really love me then, hm? of course you do.’’
and he’s right — you feel disgusting, letting this man do these absolutely heinous things to you, simply because you love him. and as humiliating as it is, you’d let him do anything, there is love rooted deep inside of your heart, but there’s also fear. fear that if you even dare to disobey him, anything that he asks, he’ll simply discard you — just like his last lover.
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@ diarivie 2023 , do not repost on any third party websites, or copy my works.
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beeing1alive · 21 days
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Turning on Tokyo Revengers boys without knowing it pt.1
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f.t.: Mikey (Manjirō Sanō); Draken (Ken Ryūgūji); Mitsuya (Takashi Mitsuya); Baji (Keisuke Baji); Chifuyu (Chifuyu Matsuno); Kazutora (Kazutora Hanemija)
Warning: Nsfw content, minors do not interact
Mikey:
can't help but get a hard-on when he sees you sitting on his motorbike
especially when it's summer and you're wearing short clothes
his gaze veils slightly, he draws the air through his teeth slightly and watches every movement you make
i'm not going to lie, he's never got hard so fast
Without hesitation, he ran over to you and sat on his motorbike with you, just to kiss you a little more intimately than he wanted to
you can always tell if he's Horney when he kisses you extremely kinky in public
Draken:
Gets hard the fastest when you wear his clothes
I think we can all agree when I say that he has a size kink
I mean, he just can't help it when he sees you in his clothes, which are obviously way too big for you
especially when you're wearing one of his shirts and otherwise just a pair of panties
his eyes would darken slightly and he would slowly move towards you to tell you that he has a big little problem in his trousers and that you could help him with it
Mitsuya:
jealousy turns him on immensely
I mean, I know he doesn't look it so much, but he gets rock hard in seconds when he sees you talking to another boy for a little too long
a chiselled smile appears on his handsome face and he tries as hard as he can to hide the ever-growing and pulsating bulge in his trousers, which he manages to do quite well
as soon as you and the boy are ready, he pulls you behind him, gently but firmly
the moment you arrive in a quiet corner, you are his
Baji:
nothing turns him on more than seeing you in a leadership position
I mean, when you assert yourself and do all those leader things
he'll sit still, his eyes veil slightly and he watches every little move you make
I'm not even lying when I say that he just sits there and a slight, barely noticeable blush spreads across his face as he notices his trousers getting tighter in a matter of seconds
Chifuyu:
gets hard within a few seconds if he sees you in short clothes
for example, shorts and a revealing shirt
he is just too innocent and would blush extremely and in rare cases get a nosebleed too
if he feels confident enough, he'll snuggle up to you from behind so you can feel his hard boner pressed against your bum, which doesn't make it any better for him
he'll gently give you a sweet kiss on the neck and tell you that you know how much it turns him on when you wear revealing clothes
Kazutora:
turns him on most of the time when you're sitting or lying on his lap
the first few times this happened, he was very uncomfortable because you felt it directly when he got hard and he can't hide it
when he's feeling very horny, he tries to move his hips against your bum to create friction
if you're also wearing short clothes, he'll almost come in his trousers at the slightest touch
I mean, that divine view of you, in short clothes, on his lap, pressed against his hard cock
he just can't help it, so don't be angry with him
Here is pt.2
Attention: The characters and the GIF do not belong to me. The credits go to the original owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed, please contact me.
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falmerbrook · 3 months
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Ear Headcanons
So this was meant to be just my headcanon for the differences between the different mer races' ears (size, shape, if they can move on their own, etc.), but there's a tinge of just general visual differences between them in there too (because this ended up being really good face practice for me). I'll mostly talk about ears though. Obviously this is more meant to be general trends than hard and fast rules.
I'll start with the playable races.
Altmer
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Tall and skinny ears that can move out and back a bit (moderate range of motion). They mostly are close to the head but can also stick out a bit.
Dunmer
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They have a wide variety of how their ears can be shaped; small, tall, wide, big, straight up, curvy, etc. The typically stick out more than Altmer's and have a larger range of motion.
Bosmer
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The largest variety of any of the races. Their ears can look like just about anything any other race has (except maybe Maormer) from any mer ears, to more human ears, to more animal-like ones. They have a large range of motion regardless of how they look.
Orsimer
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Small, almost human-sized ears, but they stick out more from the head than humans and can be wider. The pointed end tends to stick out. They can rarely move.
Breton
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Breton basically just have human ears with a little point at the top. I thought it would be fun to draw a sort of comparison to your average Nede and average Breton to highlight the subtle more merish look that I think Bretons should have too.
Ok now for non-playable races
Snow elves/Falmer
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Ok so I have terminal Falmer brainrot so I have a lot of completely made up headcanons for these guys sorry lol.
Snow elves have the least variety. They are usually shorter and closer to the head than the other mer races (which evolved as an adaptation to counter frostbite in my headcanon) and can't move. Conversely, I like to headcanon that falmer are on their way to evolving rudimentary echolocation, and therefore have huge ears that stick out far from their head, and are very mobile (this is also why their faces are covered in wrinkles). They can look more traditionally merish, or some of them have real funky shapes.
Chimer
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Basically a mix between how the Altmer/Aldmer and current Dunmer look (both in their general appearance and ears). Think of it like the transition between the Aldmer look and Dunmer.
Dwemer
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Dwemer have relatively short ears (compared to other mer) and don't stick out much, but they can be wide along the side of the head. Their shape is usually pretty angular and have limited mobility.
Aldmer
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Your standard pointy fantasy elf ears. So I technically headcanon the Aldmer as many different (although similar) groups that are referred to as one group due to the nature of retelling history and some propaganda sprinkled in there, but in general, since the other mer of Tamriel descended from them, I see them as sort of generic. Nothing particularly notable in their ears. Minimal to moderate ability to move them.
Ayleid
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Curvy. They have Aldmer sized ears with twisting and curving in different directions. Limited movement, and not too much range in size (just shape). I have 0 reasons for thinking this, I just thought it would be fun and unique and maybe fit their aesthetics.
Maormer
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I like that canon Maormer ears look fin-like but I want to turn it up to 11. Large variety of shape and size, but usually large and fin-shaped as a general trend. Huge range of movement.
Ohmes/Ohmes-raht
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They aren't elves, but they are described as human/mer-like, so I figured I'd include the Ohmes. They usually have pointy, mer-esque ears, but less distinct than most mer. Despite being relatively small, they have a wide range of movement for their size (and move in similar ways to the way cats ears move for the rest of the Khajiit). They can be extra fuzzy or have little tufts at the end for Ohmes-raht.
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Warm Me Up
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Summary: Illyria is cold, Rhys has some ideas on how to stay warm.
Content Warnings: Smut; dirty talk; little bit of cursing.
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Illyria was a wasteland, nothing but frigid mountains and harsh winds, you'd never understood how anything survived here. Your mate had flown you in an hour ago, you'd immediately had to sit in front of the cabin's fireplace, smothered in blankets, a warm cup of tea in your hands to avoid your teeth chattering and your fingertips from turning blue. The boys were somehow training outside shirtless. You could see them from the window, sparring, even as the relentless wind continued to beat against the windows.
You furrowed deeper into your mountain of blankets, still so damned cold. How were they managing that? How had Cassian survived his childhood, alone and hungry in this for so long? Was there something built into Illyrians to help them survive?
You tapped a mental hand against the bond hesitantly, worried you might distract your mate and he'd get hurt... again. Rhys had gotten used to your random questions, but thd first couple of times had been so sudden he'd lost focus, Az had clipped him across the shoulder, drawing blood. It hadn't even scarred, had healed with the help of his powers in less than hour. He'd probably forgotten about it. You hadn't.
Your mate responded with a gentle caress against your mental shields, like he'd brushed a hand over you mind, urging you to come forward.
"Do Illyrians run hot?" You asked.
A dark chuckle ran across the bond, sending a shiver over your spine. "Why don't you come out here and find out?"
You rolled your eyes. "And freeze to death? No thank you."
"It's not even snowing yet.," he let your peer through his eyes, the landscape dripping from yesterday's rain, but it was more mud than anything.
"I've seen warmer places in the Winter Court."
"There are plenty of ways to stay warm up here," Rhys purred, his voice a playful caress against your mind. "You're welcome to join us in the birken when we're done."
"And leave the safety of my little nest by the fire? I'll have frostbite by the time I make it there."
"Give me five minutes." The bond snapped closed and then Cassian was screaming obscenities from where they were sparring near the side of the cabin.
"THAT'S CHEATING YOU BASTARD!" Azriel shouted.
"RHYSAND I CAN'T FUCKING SEE!"
You pulled the comforter off the top of your head to try and get a good look through the closest window, but there was nothing but darkness against the glass. It was still too early in the day for the sun to be going down, the darkness outside rattling against the windows like a harsh wind. Rhys very rarely unleashed that much power, but you felt your own flare to life in your chest at the sight of it. Like calls to like, and your starborn powers had always risen to the challenge it found in Night Triumphant.
It wasn't even a full five minutes before the back door was thrown open so fast the old wood cracked against the wall. The wind came in with it, making you burrow deeper into your mound of blankets to avoid it.
Rhys must have kicked off his boots at the door, because you heard it slam shut and then nothing until large hands settled on your blanket clad shoulders.
You jumped with a shriek of surprise that had your mate bending over the back of the couch to kiss your barely exposed forehead apologetically, his skin colder than the wind beating against the walls.
"Ack! You're an ice cube!" You hissed, twisting to get away.
He chuckled as he pulled away and went to the closet near the front door.
"Don't bother, I've already raided it," you warned.
He opened it anyway, then frowned at all the empty shelves. "You weren't kidding." His next move was to go to the stack of wood neatly organized by the fire place and throw more in, the blaze illuminating the sharp planes of his face. He wasn't wearing a shirt, training leathers hanging low on his hips, a fine sheen of sweat making his bronze skin glow in the firelight.
Under normal circumstances, you would have jumped right on him, ran your tongue over his abs, traced the swirl of ink across his chest. Something about him in leathers made you weak in the knees, all rational thought out the window. The only thing keeping you in place this time was the thought of loosing the little pocket of warmth you had created.
He felt your gaze of course, turning away from the fire to look at you. "Better?" His voice had gone down an octave, his pupils dilating.
"Little," you admitted, though him being so close, looking like that might have been more of a reason for the heat you were starting to feel than the fire.
He walked to you slowly, intently, violet eyes fixed on you.
Your heartbeat quickened in your chest as he knelt in front of you.
"Think you can make room for me in there?" He kept his hands on the top blanket of your little cocoon, waiting for permission.
"I don't know, how cold are you?" You teased; this would be the last little bit of your resolve.
He slid a hand under the blankets, fingers dragging up slowly, intently over your calves.
"Cold," you whimpered, but the shiver that ran through you had nothing to do with the temperature, not as he traced his way up your thighs, only stopping when he found the hem of your sweater.
He leaned and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose first, then the corners of your lips, his breath warm against your face, the contrast between the two temperatures making your head spin. You wanted to reel away and lean in all the same time.
"Just for a second," he promised, "then I'll get you nice and warm."
You opened the blanket, and that intense violet gaze took stock of your attire: His old sweater, so loose and baggy it looked like a dress on you, and knee high, fuzzy pink socks. Pants had felt like a waste of time, not when sifting through the dresser meant time spent away from the fire.
Rhys all but jumped on top of you, pushing you down into the couch cushions, the blankets tangling between you as he crashed his lips against yours.
Rhys, as High Lord, was always so poised and put together, everything about him calculated and curated to create the necessary masks of court duties; but alone, like this, when it was just the two of you, no masks necessary, he let that unending restraint slip, kissing you and running his hands over your body like a man starved. His tongue swept into your mouth as he slid a hand under your sweater, deft fingers dragging up your skin to cup your breast.
He'd kept his promise about the cold, you'd only felt it for a moment before he'd settled between your legs, using a bit of magic to untangle the blankets and rearrange them over the two of you. You ran a hand through his hair, scraping your nails lightly over his scalp as he playfully gave your nipple a tug.
"Better?" He rasped, lips barely off yours like he couldn't bear to be that far from you.
The warmth of his weight on top of you would have been enough, but the way he kept running his hands over any bit of you he could reach, the way he kissed you again and again and again was enough to make you forget you had ever been cold in the first place.
"Much better," you confirmed as he broke away to nip at your neck.
He chuckled as you arched into his touch; whimpering lightly as his tongue laved over the sting of his teeth on your throat.
"Can't decide," he murmured into your skin, "if I should fuck you in my sweater or not?"
Heat coiled between your legs, even further when he rocked his hips into your center, even with the clothes separating the two of you, the friction was enough to make you moan.
He nipped under your jaw, "Look so pretty in it, but I gotta get you all warmed up don't I? My poor little mate, not used to the cold."
Now that he was with you, you wanted, needed, every bit of contact with his body you could get. The sweater, so warm and comforting before, now felt like a tremendously itchy obstacle keeping you from him. "Want it off," you complained, trying to find your voice around another moan as he rutted his hips into you again, hard even through his leathers.
He chuckled as he fisted the hem and started pulling it up your body. "Wear it again for me later?"
You nodded as he pulled it over your head and tossed it over the back of the couch. Distantly, you hoped Rhys had the good sense to send his brothers away for a little while since you had stopped hearing them moving around outside, but had no time to ask as he started kissing his way down your body, pausing to give some attention to your peaked nipples. A whine tore from your throat as he swirled his tongue over one and then the other.
"Love when you make those little noises for me," he purred into your mind, not wanting to remove his lips from your body to speak.
"Rhys," you whimpered, body arching into him as he nipped at your sensitive skin.
"You're gonna look so pretty, all marked up under my sweater later," he sent an image of you, covered in hickeys from your throat to your hips down the bond as he continued to move slowly down your body.
Rhys liked to push you, liked to see how worked up he could get you, first with that silver tongue of his, then his hands, he could keep this up for hours. You, however, where so desperate for more friction, to fill the ache now burning between your legs, bucked your hips, squirming underneath him now. "Please. Need you."
He scraped his teeth along he hem of your underwear, humming his approval. Rhys grinned against your skin, all male satisfaction as he held your hips in place. "So impatient. I thought you were freezing to death in here? Don't you want to get warm, Darling?"
Warm? Your skin was on fire in every spot he had touched, the warmth of his body spreading to every point of contact he gave. It was becoming too much and not enough, you needed more, more, more.
"Please!"
He caught the hem of your panties in his teeth and pulled them slowly down your hips, hands skimming your hips and thighs, kneading soft skin. Your legs widened for him automatically, instinctively, despite the fact that you were now uncomfortably wet from his ministrations.
He ran his tongue against your center, humming his approval, blasting it down the bond. "So wet, and I've barely even touched you."
You pinched your eyes shut, overwhelmed already. He really was too damn good at this. No amount of time would ever be enough to satisfy the well of need you had for him. You blasted that desperation, that ache for him right down the bond as words failed you, as he continued his exploration of your dripping core with his tongue. Stars erupted behind your closed eyelids as he chuckled down the bond, pleased with your reactions to his body.
You were sure you were begging for him, whimpering and pleading nonsense as he worked you closer and closer to the edge, but the words faded in and out of your consciousness. There was only Rhys, the movements of his tongue, the feeling of his fingertips digging pleasantly tight in your hips, the heat of skin wherever it touched you. Your eyes rolled back into your head, body arching, hands tangling in his hair as the edge rose up to meet and you and you toppled over it with a scream that sounded an awful lot like your mate's name.
"Such a good girl," he purred as he lapped up the evidence of your pleasure.
You're whole body shook as he kissed his way back up your body, grinning against your flushed skin the whole way. He was so warm, when he kissed you again, the taste of your release still on his plush lips, your only thoughts were on how you could get more of that warmth, until it has seeped into your bones, erased any trace of the cold that had laid so deep beneath.
You threaded your hands in his hair, now a mess across his forehead, whimpering. "Need you still."
He grinned as he caught your lower lip between his teeth in a playful nip. "I know, love."
You moved a hand to the small of his back, pulling him closer.
"You'll have me until there are no longer stars in the sky." The bond flooded with more warmth and affection, as deep as your need for him ran, his was equal, there was no end to what he could give you.
You kissed him again, even as your legs wrapped around his waist, a bit of magic finally removing those damned leathers. Maybe you'd ask him to put them back on later, so you could enjoy the sight of him in the aftermath as much as he would you, but those were questions for later.
"I love you," you whimpered as he finally slide into you, slowly, casually, like there was all the time in the world for the two of you to enjoy each other.
He fit like he was made just for you, the stretch just uncomfortable for a moment before the pleasure made your back arch and your toes curl. He moaned into your throat, pushing his nose into your sweat dampened skin, inhaling your scent as he pushed all the way in to you.
You wondered, distantly, if the stars you were seeing were his making, or something that appeared for him too. The way he panted into your skin as he rocked his hips, testing you, made you think he saw them too.
"So perfect," he moaned as he slid almost fully out.
Your nails clawed at his shoulders, begging for him to come back and he plunged back in a little more forcefully this time, the couch groaning beneath the two of you.
You rocked your hips to meet his thrusts, hands still trailing down the contours of his spine in a move that would be sure to leave marks of your own. He nipped at your neck and shoulders when you pushed too hard, skin breaking beneath your fingertips, but you knew he didn't mind, know he relished in being marked up by you, like it was a badge of honor. You'd leave hickeys on him afterwards, when the pleasure building between your legs wasn't so white hot, when you could focus your attention somewhere other than the need burning it's way through you.
His hand snaked down between your legs, drawing you closer and closer to the edge again.
"Rhys," a prayer, a mantra, the only thing that made sense as pleasure turned all rational thought to mush.
"I've got you," he rasped in your ear, every muscle taught as he rocked into you again and again and again. His pace was quickly becoming more frantic, his breath hot on your throat as he moaned into your skin. It was that sound, so desperate and low right beneath your ear, coupled with the movement of his deft fingers, the angle of his cock inside you, all hurtling you so quickly towards the edge that you didn't notice it was there until you toppled over it. Your mate followed with a roar, his own release warm inside you.
You clung to him, trembling, panting, as you came down from your high, the familiar weight of him atop you grounding in the aftermath. He snaked an arm around you as he positioned the two of you on your sides, sharing the couch now. You buried your face in the crook of his neck as he kissed the top of your head, gently.
"Warm now, darling?" He asked softly, a hint of teasing still there, even as he recovered his breath.
He hadn't pulled out of you yet; you bit your lip in thought as you tossed a leg over his, bringing you flush against his hips. You were sensitive, the movement made you wince a little, but even after all that, you still wanted more of him. Perhaps it would never be enough. Like the Illyrians that called this frigid place home, there was always going to be something that pushed you back towards the fire, that damned insatiable need to get warm.
"I think I'm still a little cold," you purred, eyes glinting playfully.
Your mate chuckled at the challenge in your tone, violet eyes narrowing into where you were still joined. "Can't have that, can we?"
The fire roared in the fireplace, a bit of your mate's magic flaring, making sure there was more heat in the cabin, before his lips were on yours again, chasing away any hint of cold before it could touch you.
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donutz · 2 months
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Yandere Catnap x female Smiling Critter cat reader
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Request from Wattpad-! Here you go Buttmens(💀)☆
Being locked up in these cells is insufferable.
Catnap and I can’t do anything.
We both operate on sleeping. So we both have the red gas. We both used it, it was built into our system. Yet we end up into these cells for it. Apparently, it causes violent nightmares. From Catnap’s gas. Neither the workers nor I know if my gas causes nightmares.
They still put me in containment. Plus, I was similar to Catnap, not approaching the kids. So they were all wary about me and that gas product.
Even when Catnap and I are locked up, we still communicate. Not verbally. Telepathically, you could say. We intertwine our tails to communicate. Our tails are very long so it’s not hard.
Catnap’s planning to kill the people in this place. To work with Experiment 1006, seeing him as a god, and he’ll save us. Considering Catnap is just a kid(Hmm… I wonder why I bolded, underlined, and italicized the word kid… Hmm…)
You’d think he’d be joking because he’s a kid. But, considering who Catnap is, he’s not. At random times of the day he’d whisper, “THE PROTOTYPE WILL SAVE US.” Or something like that.
I’m not sure if I’ll follow Prototype—
“Hey guys…”
The sound of your bright friend’s voice interrupted both of your thoughts.
“Uhm. A kid drew both of you, they were wondering if you were going to come back…” He gave you two the kid’s drawings, it was sloppy, but you appreciated it.
“Do you… Know, when you two are coming back…?” You said no, while Catnap didn’t answer.
“Oh…”
You reach your paw out the cell, and put your finger on Dogday’s head. You then move it to his ears, petting him.
“We’ll come back, Dogday. Eventually.”
Moving to the underside of his chin, you give him scratches.
“Mm.. Okay!” His tail was wagging pretty fast, as he is a dog.
Then you gave him a small poke on his nose, “Now you go on and make the kids happy, okay?” You said.
“Mhm! Bye you two!” He waved his paw, signaling his goodbyes.
Normally, from you doing that to someone. Catnap would get pretty jealous. But it’s Dogday. So it’s okay. Catnap trusts Dogday, he knows he wouldn’t do that. Not to Catnap.
Though you could still see the jealousy on his face. He gave you that spooooky scare, silently communicating on why you did it.
“It was because I knew he needed some comfort Catnap. We’ll stay together until the end.” (Not in the romantic adult way, like the way when kids got little crushes on each other or somethin. The type you’d see in little kids shows, it’s rare, but it’s there. I will NOT make the reader feel that way about Catnap).
Then he stopped looking so jealous.
Now it’s the day. The day Catnap will act out, he’s already out of his cell, because he snuck the worker’s keys. Then he let you out.
“Do you… Want to kill with me…?” He asked.
You weren’t too sure. Not the critters, not the toys. Not any of the toys. Just the bad adults and stuff.
“Only the bad adults..” You answered, you weren’t sure if he’d accept the answer, but thankfully he did. He then left.
You were alone now.
‘I should alert the critters.’ You thought.
They were all in a room, then you rushed into it.
“YOU ALL NEED TO RUN. GET THE KIDS TO A SAFE PLACE. SOMETHING BAD WILL HAPPEN ANY SECOND—”
Screams. Men and women, kids. They were all yelling and screaming. Out of fear, not of joy. The critters were confused? What were you talking about? Why did they hear someone scream? And why wasn’t it from joy?
“GET THE KIDS. NOW.” They were all asking questions, but followed along. Well, Dogday mainly did, as the leader he multitasked. Getting the critters and kids safe. Though it wasn’t very successful. 
You had to run. Run over to kill the ‘bad adults’. Like you said you would.
A few minutes later, you were managing to get the kids to a safe place while looking for your targets. You found it. The man who tortured and teased you and Catnap.
You can’t go back on this now.
You scruffed him with your paw and hesitantly ate him. Your pupils dilated. The taste was wonderful. You didn’t care about the kids anymore, you killed them. Threw them roughly to a wall, stomped on them, y’know, to put them out of their misery before you ate them?
You still had somewhat of a heart. Even killing all of these innocent children.
Ugh. That sounds gross, the adrenaline wore off for a second, and you could see the murder you caused.
All the blood, dead bodies. That was because of you! Catnap's so proud of you for doing such a good job!
He's quite surprised that you even got the courage to kill people. You were on the nicer side, trying to not have Catnap escalate things in his cold head(Even at his young age).
So to see you murdering people?! It was very entertaining.
You were looking at the bodies. Just staring. Then you saw Catnap. He walked up to you.
“Good… Job.” He praised.
Your pupils dilated from that. He rubbed his head against yours, cuddling with you slightly.
You could hear his purrs!
You cuddled back, purring. Just you two being cats. Extracting all of the— blood. That's spread around the place.
You're just a cat ^_^.
After the hour of joy, Catnap and you were just searching over the place, making sure there were no survivors. Though, Catnap sped away, possibly looking for someone.
You hoped Dogday was safe.
10 years later, you now ‘worshiped’ Catnap.
The way you thought about Catnap is the way Catnap thought about the Prototype.
Sadly, Dogday didn't believe in the Prototype. So he's… Chained up. You comfort him at times, Catnap doesn't really let you be around him. But you know he won't do anything, as long as he's watching.
Other than that you two were the cuddliest kittens ever!!!
Such a cute cat duo!!
You two would be a star if you didn't murder people.
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littlemissayu · 7 months
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TWST Boys as ✨ PARENTS✨(Part 2)
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ft: Octavinelle, Scarabia | pt.1; ft.Heartsabyul & Savanaclaw | pt.3; ft.Pomefiore, Ignhihyde | pt. 4; ft.Diasomnia
TW: kids, pregnancy, reader is depicted as female, domestic, fluff
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Azul Ashengrotto-
4 very well behaved children. For the majority of the time they are really good kids, listening, getting good grades,and respectful. Until you make one of them angry, bc they will hold that grudge and with find a way to pull a fast on you; yet will they admit they're mad if you simply ask? No. They DO know how to forgive and they do to the people they love. Honestly Azul would be a very gentle parent because he has a soft heart and doesn't think his kids could do anything wrong, definitely the parent who will find some excuse for his kid.Don't get me wrong he knows where ti draw the line like if their kicking someone's chair on an airplane. 2 boys and 2 girls, and he would never have it any other way(even if originally he was sort of scared of messing them up).
Jade Leech-
2 kids, two adorable little girls. His daughters were super calm children. When you two first brought your first home you were gald yet worried because she rarely cried throughout the night. All you could think is 'This is so jade's daughter'. Both of your kids are absolutely brilliant and catch on fast. Your 2nd daughter was very into photography and would snap pictures of family and her dad's mushroom garden.One father's day she gave her dad a photo album filled with pictures of him with his family (and his mushrooms & terrariums); he almost cried tears of joy. Jade loves to spoil his little girls, he tries to say no to them but they give him those sad, sad eyes and he just gives in. Very protective of your and your girls, you guys are the most important people in his life.
Floyd Leech-
6-10 kids, two words ; baby machine. He loves seeing you pregnant so he does it over and over again. The most chaotic dad to ever have, wanna egg the neighbors house? He'll help. Wanna troll local Walmart employees? You guys will get kicked out together. Wanna rustle with a good ol' dad in the mud? Let's do it!! To others he may seem like a horrible parent but his kids know he always means best and they love him. He hates parent-teacher conference, bc now he has to listen to some strange rant about his kid for 25 minutes; but the upside is if his kids do really well they get to treat them for whatever they want. He'll also get to be super proud!! He has at least 2-3 sets of twins only one of them is boy-girl, other(s) is boy-boy.
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Kalim Al Asim-
9- whenever you tell him you don't want anymore kids!! This man wants a huge family like he had growing up. Most of his kids seem to be super happy go lucky like their dad. He has more self-control by the time he has kids so thankfully he isn't throwing parties everyday, but if his kids want to have one ; go all out!! (Just don't do anything illegal). All his kids are given unlimited cards by the age of 13, he wanted to do 7 but you said it was too young so he agreed on 13. His kids are the life of every party, you either really love 'em or really hate 'em. These kids are 100% either home-schooled or in a prestigious private school and have bodyguards for the obvious reasons being they are Asim kids they have constant threat someone will assassinate/kidnap them. But Kalim is a great dad and his kids love him!! I'm not gonna list all his kids but his first is a little girl <3
Jamil Viper-
2 kids, very strict. He is the first Viper in years to break the long line of servitude to the Asim family. It's hard to break out of certain habits but, although it made his kids super sneaky, it also made them work really hard to not have dad be disappointed. His kids are super smart and always on top of their class. Like their dad they are very talented, his daughter takes up painting and martial arts, and his son takes up spelldrive and culinary. Jamil may be strict but he is also a very proud parent, as his kids seem to always do amazing things. He does tell them when he's proud and tells them how great they're doing and how much he loves them. Lucky for them they also inherited his gorgeous hair.
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Octavinelle Masterlist
Scarabia Masterlist
TWST Masterlist
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etfrin · 6 months
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⤷❝NSFW Alphabets | Jason Todd ❞ˎˊ-
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⇢☾Warning: may the world know I have a horrible crush on this man and dive into this post <3
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⇢☾Pairing: Jason Todd x fem! Reader
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⇢☾A/N: this was self indulgent so be aware!
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| masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune
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A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)
— you'll probably have to teach him about aftercare because he never had anything long-term (just flings) after he's aware though, he will bring you water (because your throat will be sore as fuck from screaming his name), sometimes draw a bath if he was particularly rough but usually, he would just cuddle you while his cock is still buried inside of you.
B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)
— his thighs! He has noticed the way you stare at his bulge and his thighs whenever he sits (manspreads) more often than not he has you riding his thigh.
he does like your hands the most, your hand is like a bridge for both of you to be closer. you show him so much affection with your hands, like holding his hand or pinching his cheeks, stroking his hair. He loves it.
C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)
— he cums anywhere, you are just a blank canvas. Would cum on your thighs, boobs, face, and anywhere, he loves seeing you completely debauched and marked.
D= Dirty secret (Pretty self-explanatory)
— he likes it when you beg, when you can't think because of the pleasure and you're trying to push him away as tears fall from your eyes, it's his favorite thing to deny you. He denies you to cum, he denies you to stay quiet, and he loves to say no to you and hear you whine.
E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)
— Oh, he knows what he's doing. He lies about his body count (not that one) because he doesn't want to put you off but boy, he knows what he's doing.
F= Favorite position
— Doggy style, and mating press. Loves to have you on all fours, sometimes even making you crawl to him, he's so amused when you obey and he's so close to cumming inside his pants from the sight. And mating press because it just hits the right spots of your walls, making you scream that the neighbors have given up complaining about the noise, learning to soundproof their walls instead.
G= Goofy (how serious are they)
— yeah, he is goofy though only if it's before patrolling or beating someone's ass, like early in the mornings or something. he would be all giggly and whispering some jokes (with a huge amount of dark humor) while sliding into your cunt and fucking you into oblivion.
H= Hair (grooming habits)
— it isn't wild down there but he doesn't trim as regularly as he should, but he has good hygiene though, it's just hair for him.
I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)
— he's so rough and filthy. Sometimes forgets about his strength and gets so cocky when he sees the bruises all over your body (of course he kisses them better) there are moments he's soft and gentle but it's rare (so cherish it)
J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)
— yeah he does. Often in the shower or some dark ass alley right after kicking some ass and he can't get home fast enough to fuck the adrenaline out with you. It doesn't happen regularly though, with enough practice he can get to his apartment fast enough that he can pin you wherever it's the closest and have you, and most of the time you both shower together more often than not so shower sex <3
K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)
— breath play (receiving and giving), pain kink (receiving), pulling his hair, scratching his back, biting him hard, I beg of you, he would just lose all control, whatever sanity he has will go to hell. PRAISE KINK (good boy™), he would fucking melt if you tell him how good he is, how deep his cock reaches, and how much you love it and love him. He eats up every time, it means so much to him even outside of sexual intimacy. Degradation (giving) all of the classics: slut, cumdumpster, whore etc. Dumbfication, how he loves it when you can't process all of the insults (and occasional praises of how good your pussy is to him) and the only thing you do is moan his name mindlessly. Overstimulation because of his stamina he can make you cum several times a night, often losing count after the fourth. Dacryphilia: this one goes hand in hand with overstimulation and dumbfication.
L= Location (where they like to get it on)
— anywhere. ANYWHERE. He doesn't care if he gets caught, he can and will fuck you almost anywhere. An alleyway, closets, library, church, ANYWHERE, the sky's the limit for him.
M= Motivation (things that make them tick/turn-ons)
— Domestic acts. Anything like cleaning the house, cooking him meals, washing the dishes. He helps of course, and does his side of the chores but he never had the stability of domesticity before. He never thought he would and he never thought he would enjoy such simplicity in his life.
So sometimes it was just too much for him not to bend you over the kitchen counter, or the dinner table, or the couch, the pinning you on the wall near the bookshelf you were rearranging.
N= No (turn offs or absolutely won’t do)
— knife play & blood play. He doesn't want to hurt you in any sort of matter, sometimes he is rough but it doesn't mean he makes you bleed or would ever want to make you bleed.
O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)
— he fucking loves blowjobs, change my mind. I dare you. He's so mean about it too, fucking your face without care. He gripped your head, keeping it in place as his cock hits the back of your throat with every thrust. You gag around his dick, saliva covering your chin, your eyes glossed with pleasure and tears is a bonus that makes the act so much better.
He wasn't big on giving head before. Well, that was before you, now he could spend hours between your thighs just to be a nasty tease whenever he needs to teach you a lesson. He would languidly lick your cunt without a care, it doesn't matter that your juices are staining the sheets, he's gonna be at it for hours. It gives him a sense of peace and yet again you crying because of the overstimulation (which wasn't the mission, he's just pussy drunk) and broken moans are just a plus.
P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)
— fast af. The sex usually happens after his night activities are done so the adrenaline is still pumping through his body and he has to let out somehow… he has some serious stamina so he can last a while, sometimes you might even black out just to wake up with him still going at it.
"Sorry, baby," he gasps, his cock still splitting your body. His thrusts seems sloppier than before but it was perhaps because of how fucking wet your cunt was with both of your cum that made the glide seem so slick.
He leaned down to press a kiss to your neck. "Am close," he promised, his hips snapping fast and hard, making you unable to think, unable to protest against the overstimulation you have grown to love so much. "Just one more, baby," he lies, as his cum fills you but his cock is still hard and throbbing into your cunt.
Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)
— Oh! He loves quickies, he's the type to sneak into your work and then take you to a closet or just a room where there is no one and have his way with you real quick before you have to head back to work, making sure his cum stays inside. There were so many times you were nearly caught, it was sheer luck that you haven't. He doesn't do it very often, only when he misses you too much, sometimes y'all don't even fuck, just make out or huddle together on the floor of the storage room of your workplace, munching on cookies you bought from the office cafeteria.
R= Risk (do they like to try new things)
— he would be so open to anything you want to try, and would rarely say no to you. He is very experimental.
S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)
— well like, he's a vigilante who fights crime so like there's no limit to that stamina especially when he is frustrated or anything, expect call out of work because you won't be able to walk. He can easily last a lot of rounds.
T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)
— he would be so game into using toys on you. Vibrators, dildos, and anything else just to be a bastard to you.
U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)
— he's a tease, A VERY BIG TEASE. Like even when he's fucking you, sometimes he would go extra slow to make you feel his length sliding in and out of your sensitive walls before snapping his hips back into you like an animal. He's kinda mean about it, feeling delighted when you whine about him changing his pace so abruptly.
V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)
— he isn't shy to let out his groans, mostly dirty talks, degrading you and making comments about how slutty your pussy is, taking his cock so well like it was made for it (it was) When you scratch his back or tug at his hair, he would let out a whine, praise him and he would like out a breathy moan. He is embarrassed when he realizes it but who the fuck cares?
W= Wild card (random sin canon of any sort)
– Fucked you in the training room once in the Titans Tower, not giving a fuck about the cameras that were recording everything he was doing to you. Dick lectured him for an hour straight for this behavior, did he care? No, but he did get an apartment though, so he could fuck you in his training room.
Oh, he would also take the tape that recorded everything, showing it to you with a proud look on his face.
"Look at you, such a dumb slut on my cock," he said, as moaning sounds came out of the phone. "Dick saw that, saw me fucking you good, does that get you off, Princess? Want me to fuck you in front of Dick next?"
X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)
— HE'S BIG AND THICK, sorry, yeah 8 inches, and he's pretty girthy, always stretching your pussy to its limits. Uncut, he was a street rat after all.
Y= Yearning (sex drive level)
— it's pretty high, he's so touch-starved, and despite the constant hugs, hand holding, and petting (i wanna play with his hair so badly) sometimes all he needs is a deeper physical connection.
Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)
— he won't be a quick sleeper, even after it's late hours and you're sleeping soundly beside him, the urge to go out and fight would always eat him up, he loved the rush of it even with its risk but then having you in his arms, your head on his chest, he liked this even more and would force himself to get a few hours of sleep. He liked this more than another villain, another fight.
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483 notes · View notes
duckchu · 6 months
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Gonna do Heartsteel nsfw alphabet
First one up Kayn!
Fem bodied reader (spreading my bi Kayn agenda everywhere I go)
NSFW BELOW
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Kayn tries his best but he's just...not very good at aftercare. He will bring you a bottle of water but that's the most he'll do, unless you ask him for something. Although he enjoys if you take care of him after sex
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
On him, probably his abs, he likes them and thinks they look good. He doesn't put too much thought into picking a favourite body part. On you, it's your thighs, he loves them. He likes holding onto them when fucking you and he likes having his head crushed by them when eating you out
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Likes to make a mess out of you, probably has a (consentualy taken) picture of your face covered with his cum. His favourite spot to come on are your breasts and face
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He has no secrets. But the closest thing would be how he sometimes takes some of your clothes when going on tour since they smell like you and let him feel like he's near you
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Probably had his way with a fan or 2, maybe even with a member of Heartsteel earlier but did he learn much during any of those? No, he needs time to figur you out
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Anything where he can see your face, he doesn't care about the specifics
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Depends on his mood, if he's fucking you to calm down from being mad, he's really serious but other times he can laugh
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He's pretty well groomed, some hair but not out of control. As much as he seems like the person to dye his pubes, he tried once and never again. He's jet black down there
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
If it's just a quickie, it's on and gone, not really romantic but if he's back from tour after not seeing you for months, even a year? You can feel the pure desperation to fuck you radiate from him as he whispers in your ear how much he missed you and how much he wants you, maybe even decorating the bedroom before hand (rarely)
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
If he has you, why? He used to masturbate frequently but now he just goes out and finds you for a quickie. Now he only pleasures himself if you're away and he doesn't have access to you (if he's touring you can even get a video call of him doing it~)
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Knife play, maybe even drawing a little blood, kinda voyeurism, while not outright fucking in front of someone, he enjoys the possibility of being caught having a quick moment with your backstage right before he goes on stage. Also breathplay
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Wherever, you've done it practically everywhere, he doesn't care for the place he cares for the feeling of being inside you
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Wear something with even a little boob window and he'll go crazy. Also if you're bratty to him. While he's not big on taming, he likes when you stutter over insulting him while he pushes his dick in deeper
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He would do everything ngl
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Like I said earlier, he loves having his head crushed by your thighs when eating you out, although he also enjoys looking at you below him, choking on him, it's probably 50/50 for him, although he isn't very skilled, he's learning
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
If he's fucking out his frustration? Merciless. He will rough to the point of actual tears. But other times, if you want him to, he can go slower, though the prefers it fast and hard
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Yes. Frequently. He's busy being a star, he can't spend a lot of time with you (though he would like to) so quickies are the next best option, usually in a risky place like backstage, right in the earshot of his band members or on the couch in their apartment while they'll be back any minute
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Huge risk taker, he's willing to try anything everywhere
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Not too bad, most of your sessions last 2 rounds, maybe 3, but those rounds are long so it's enough to satisfy you
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Like I said, willing to try anything, probably has some from before he was with you and willing to buy new ones if you want
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
This fucking brat. He's really a tease, making fun of you for your lewd expressions, edging you for long times...He should be glad you haven't taken your revenge. Yet.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
If it's a risky spot, he can be quiet, but when it's just you two? He's loud as fuck. He moans and pants right into your ear, breathlessly telling you how good you are (or how much of a slut you are, depending on his mood)
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
If he could, he'd like to have a threesome with you and Ezreal or Aphelios
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Nice and thick, 3,5 inches, has a frenum piercing
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Usually once a week, sometimes higher sometimes lower, definitely higher when he hasn't seen you for a long time
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Usually will stay up for about an hour and play with your hair or just don't fall asleep and make some music
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Sorry if it's ooc also idk why the length is in inches, I'm not even American lmao also first time writing nsfw please do give feedback
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ghulehunknown · 6 months
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Papa Headcanons - 💋💑
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Day 15 of KINKTOBER is here! 🎃
**WARNING - NSFW**
Also available on AO3!
My headcanons of ~lovemaking~ with the Papas
Primo
Perfectly content to lay on his back and watch you ride, too old and tired to do anything wild and crazy
Had lots of wild sexventures in his youth and is happy to have missionary or cowgirl sex for the rest of his days
Refers to the act as “making love” for general sex, or “fornication” for a quickie
Always conscious about wearing a condom
Lots of kissing and cute pet names
Rarely, if ever, says he loves you but treats you so sweetly you know he does
Switch but mostly a pleasure dom
Won’t stop until you cum
Surprisingly gentle touch
Painfully aware of the size of his member and makes sure to ease into you and makes sure you’re very wet and ready for him
Secondo
Prefers to let you ride him but he controls the motions and speed from the bottom
Also loves spooning you so he can reach around to your front
Has a good read on facial expressions and can generally tell what you’re in the mood for and pays attention to your body language during sex
Comes prepared with toys, lube, condoms, dilators, and other accouterments
Loves to play with your nipples
Leaves you one of his button down shirts to wear afterwards
Indulges in a cigar or cigarette, or a glass of whiskey, in bed with you after
Almost always a dom and will play it rough when you want it
Easily makes you cum multiple times
Wants to service and be serviced by his sub
Loves facefucking you
Terzo
Romantic gestures- lights lot of candles, spreads rose petals on the floor and bed, dims the lights, draws you a bubble bath, sends you roses or a lunch delivery at work
Seduces you all day through texts which include “So what are you wearing? 😼” and “Wanna fuck?”
Has an extensive toy collection
He calls the act fucking but definitely adjusts to the mood/vibe depending on whether you want it slow or fast
Desperate to get you off multiple times
Won’t let himself cum until you have at least once before him
Studies your body’s reactions so he knows when you’re about to have an orgasm
Gets turned on by turning you on
LOTS of foreplay and lots of lube
Consistently asks if you’re comfortable
Likes to switch positions a lot
LOVES doggystyle because it makes him feel bigger
Is relieved when you say you’re on birth control but has condoms in his room and office just in case
Loves cumming inside you but also loves to spill his seed on your chest and see how much you milked him
Switch, but can easily adapt to whatever works in his partner dynamic
Cardinal Copia
Finishes quickly and is a little ashamed about it but is assured when you tell him it’s okay and you know he’s just so turned on by you that he couldn’t help it
Sniffs your underwear you left in his room the night before to get hard again and anticipate the next time
Nearly cums his pants just during the makeout session pre-sex
Carries a condom in his wallet
Wants you to undress him
Surprised and overjoyed if he makes you cum but often confuses your moans as orgasms even if you haven’t yet
Keeps asking “Is this okay?”
Acts like a Casanova IRL but when it’s just the two of you he gets a little shy
Not sure how to incorporate toys but is willing to try
Popia
He absolutely calls it “making love”
Has clear distinctions between just fucking and lovemaking
Absolutely loves facing one another on your sides, one leg hooked over your hip to press you up and down on his cock, so he can look you in the eyes and kiss your face
Loves missionary too
Almost more excited for foreplay and the chance to see you naked than (penetrative) sex
Whispers “I love you, I love you” while kissing your face
Switch; wants to fuck you and also get fucked
Proud if he can get you off multiple times in one session
Can sense if something is wrong or you’re uncomfortable and will stop immediately
Lowkey begging you to peg/top him since you started dating. He’s never tried it but wants you to dominate him
Enjoys cumming inside you because he’s never felt closer to another human than in that intimate moment. The first time he said he loved you was when he came inside you for the first time
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fontvine · 7 months
Note
nsfw alphabet for wriothsley please ?
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CW - gn!reader, pre wriothesley release, blood, breeding
A = aftercare (what they're like after sex)
very attentive yet quiet - he has a list of things he does without skipping or doing any of them out of order to ensure you feel comfortable and safe with him afterwards
B = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
wriothelsey loves your neck... specifically the back of it tho - something about the little hairs that line the base of your skull and how his fingers look as they trace the muscles in you neck makes him flustered
C = cum (anything to do with cum basically... i'm a disgusting person)
while he loves to see you coated or filled with his cum, something about seeing your own release coating his scarred skin really does it for him - he'll make you ride his abs, smearing your cum and arousal all over only to press his hand to his stomach so he see the little strings that connect between them afterwards
D = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
when your nails scratch down his back or down his front, he'll purposely put his weight into your nails, allowing them to dig deep enough to draw blood - if he's not in pain for the next few days, then it wasn't good enough
E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)
he's certainly dabbled in sexual escapades but never let anyone get too close to him - considering his occupation, he rarely had time to be doing anything outside of casual hookups
F = favourite position (this goes without saying)
missionary - simple man who likes the simple position that allows him to look at you without strain and allows your hands to reach every bit of his skin
G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
wriothesley is definitely more serious than anything else - he may let out little breathless giggles alongside you but wouldn't crack jokes or do anything purposeful to make you laugh
H = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
he tries his best to remain pretty well groomed but his hair gets unruly at times - if he's more swamped at work than usual then he may let go of his grooming habits
I = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)
very intimate - since you are probably the only one who had really gotten close enough to see wriothesley for who he really is, he uses sex to really let his guard down around you
J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)
he only jacks off if he cannot get to you in a timely matter - at work when you're on the surface and he's borderline trapped in the four walls of his office is one of the only times he gets off by himself
K = kink (one or more of their kinks)
scratching, minor blood kink, restraints, biting, breeding
L= location (favourite places to do the deed)
in the comfort of your home together or in his office (when you visit him)
M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
wriothesley strives to make you scream for him and to have the both of you dripping with one another - be it literally or just draped in the marks of one another
N = NO (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
hurting you to the point of inducing fear - he dabbles in minor pain play but the minute fear crosses your face he'll be off you in a second (he wants to induce reactions, but never fear)
O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
isn't a huge fan or oral going either way but he'll never deny you if you want it, be it him going down or you going down on him
P = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
very rarely does wriothesley go slow or gentle - he's an hardened person by nature and does prefer when things are more heated between the two of you, however thats not to say he wouldn't be gentle with you once and a while
Q = quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
doesn't mind quickies but he does prefer to be able to go at his own pace without being rushed
R = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks?)
as long as it doesn't break the law wriothesley will do almost anything under the sun - he won't push the rules passed their set boundaries but he will push just to the surface of them
S = stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long?) 
man has stamina for days - he deals with rowdy gang members for a career so he's able to go for a solid three rounds before he starts feeling anything
T = toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
wriothesley is a man who finds confidence in his body and that solely so he would utterly despise anything that brings you pleasure outside of himself or your own fingers
U = unfair (how much they like to tease)
outside of edging or dirty talk, he keeps the teasing to a minimal
V = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)
he'll grunt, growl, and sigh loudly, but unless he lets you top him, thats all your'll really hear from him (when you top he does not keep his mouth shut whatsoever)
W = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
wriothesley has rules in the bedroom - while they aren't the most serious ones, some include telling him everything and anything you are feeling, not holding back your sounds, and never holding back from leaving marks on him
X= x-ray (let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)
a beefy man with a girthy 7 inch cock - truly the veins that line his cock drag so delightfully on your gummy walls - his cock is also ever so slightly curved upwards
Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
it really ranges for him - sometimes he only really finds himself horny when you are, but other times he drags you to the bedroom three times a day to fuck like rabbits
Z = ZZZ (…. how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
he waits for you to sleep before he rests himself - like i said about aftercare with him, wriothesley has a list of things he does after sex so he doesn't rest until you're cleaned up and comfortable
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20-th-centurygirl · 1 year
Text
lazy days
jude bellingham x fem!reader
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warnings: smut, fluff
summary: a lazy day off results in a makeout session and handjob 🫡
a/n: writing again for the loml. oh to have this with jude 😵‍💫 also i'm abit insecure abt this bc there are so many amazing jude writers and i feel like this is nowhere near their levels but yolo
masterlist
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
For you and jude, a rare day off for him meant doing absolutely nothing. Lazy days where you could both just cuddle up with eachother on his sofa and binge watch shit tv shows were some of the best you'd ever spent with jude and he felt the same way. The constant rushing and busy schedules meant that lazy days off were important to the both of you.
Jude was seated in the L of his sofa, his legs fully stretched out as he leant back with his arms wrapped around you. You were cuddled into his side, head on his chest and you slid your hand up his shirt, tracing circles on his abs. His cheek was rested on the top of your head, his hand mirroring your hands actions as he slid it up your his jumper.
You absentmindedly began to trace his thigh, drawing random shapes on it and still not tearing your gaze away from the tv. "Stop it" jude mumbled, gripping your wrist to keep it still. "What? 'M not doing anything" you said as you turned to look at him. He raised his eyebrows at you, a small smile adorning his lips "you know exactly what you're doing". You giggled as jude leaned down to connect your lips, the realisation that you were accidentally turning him on hitting you. Jude brought one of his hands up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking it softly. The kisses were innocent enough, though there was some sexual intent behind them.
Your hand continued it's movements on his thigh, only higher up. Jude's kisses became slightly more needy and you knew from his fidgeting that he wanted your hand somewhere else. He reached down and grabbed your wrist again lightly, and he brought your hand up to rest on his bulge. You couldn't help the pride that swelled in your chest knowing you could turn him on with a few innocent touches. None of the girls that had a crush on him could ever make him feel as good as you.
You gently palmed him through his grey joggers, swallowing a small groan from jude. You broke away and launched an attack on his neck instead, leaving small bites and licking over them to soothe them. You rarely left marks on any of Jude's skin that was visible to avoid a swarm of fangirls going wild but you couldn't resist. You dipped your hand into his joggers, stroking him through his boxers and smirking against his neck when you felt a wet patch form. "so needy for me aren't you baby?" The whine Jude let out sending shivers straight down your spine. "Baby please" He whimpered and you knew what he wanted, deciding to give him it instead of being a tease.
Jude shuffled his hips so you could pull his joggers and boxers down just enough to pull his cock out. You spat gently on your hand before taking him again, long and slow strokes to start with before swirling your palm around his tip. Jude let out a strangled moan as his head lolled back against the sofa, his hand gripping your wrist. You hummed in satisfaction, seeing him in the state he was in bringing you pleasure. You brought your other hand to cup his balls and he let out another moan of your name. Jude put his hand back down to guide yours up and down his cock, stroking him at the pace he wanted as you fondled his balls. Jude's movements were slow, fast enough for him to feel good and not be teased, slow enough to relax both of you.
You felt him twitch in your hand, a telltale sign he was close. "You close?" You muttered against his neck, your warm breath causing goosebumps. Jude uttered a breathy yes, moaning loudly when you squeezed your hand a few times around him. You brought your face town and took just his tip in your mouth, kitten licking it as you continued to slowly stroke him. Jude's hands gravitated to your head, tugging gently on your hair. "Fuck I'm so close. Please don't stop baby".
"Go on baby" you mumbled, your lips brushing against his tip before you wrapped your lips around him, squeezing your hand around his cock as he let out a string of whimpers, bucking his hips up to your face. He let go in your mouth and you swallowed most of his cum, rubbing his tip on your lips and smearing the small amount that you missed on his lips. You pressed a kiss to his tip before moving up and and kissing his cheek. "Fuck, you're so amazing". His breath still slightly unsteady and a crooked smile plastered on his face. You reciprocated the smile, leaning up to connect your lips again.
He tugged his boxers and joggers back up before gesturing for you to sit on his lap. You nestled your face into his neck as his fingers threaded through your hair. "I love you" He mumbled as he kissed your hair. "I love you too jude." You reached over, grabbing a fluffy blanket as pushing yourself as far into Jude as you possibly could.
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