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#those are the pillows on my bed he's laying on
hrhmimieucliffe · 3 days
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❄️⚠️Random Zayne Thoughts. NSFW, MINORS DNI.⚠️❄️
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
💭 Imagine you and Zayne currently wrapped up closely, your bodies closely intertwined as he makes love to you. You're both laying on his bed, the room is dimly lit with the light coming from a lamp sitting comfortably on his bedside
💭 Imagine those slow, sensual, and passionate strokes, using his whole body, not just stiffly rocking his hips
💭 Imagine him grunting and groaning softly into your ear as if trying to keep his sounds to a minimum, but when you wrap your legs around him, he nearly bursts from that alone and lets out a long drawn out moan
💭 If you're feeling really 'heated' or kinky, he'll even put that evol of his to use
💭 Imagine his big veiny hand gripping tightly into the pillows underneath your head, his hot breaths fanning your ear, and the sweat all over his body, making him glisten. Every flex of every muscle in body body with every slow thrust, trying to keep it slow and gentle just for you.
💭 If you ask him to go faster, he'll oblige, and wrap both his arms around your body, holding you tightly as he fills you
💭 When the moment comes for him to finally release all his pent up love and desire for you, he'll bite his lip and let out low, almost agonising grunts, preventing him from moaning your name out loudly, your hands gripping tightly at his back, almost piercing his skin with your nails, adding to the intensity of his climax
💭 He'll collapse onto you, panting and trying to catch his breath, feeling exhausted, though he's still clutching onto you.
💭 He's definitely great at aftercare, but when you suggest going for a few more rounds, he'll give a little sigh and shake his head, before climbing on top of you once again.
💭 "You're always causing me trouble. You never seem to be satisfied. If you want my attention so much, you can always ask... and I'll always accept." He whispers, looking at you with the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips as he trails kisses down your body once more.
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
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cr4yolaas · 1 day
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the first time they say “i love you” — various hq boys
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tags: fluff, all post-timeskip, all are already in an established relationship w/ rdr, some may be ooc, not proofread
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𝜗𝜚 kageyama tobio
kageyama’s first instinct was to run to you. albeit the heat of the artificial gymnasium lights burning scriptures on his back and the beads of sweat clinging to each crevice of skin and bone, he found himself in your arms — you, clad in his jersey, who stood at the front of the crowd as soon as the game ended. loud cheers fell on deaf ears as he twirled you around, seemingly overcome by a fit of hyperactivity and joy. you could not care any less. he was happy, and that was enough.
the setter’s hands never failed to leave your sides even as he placed you down. akin to a little boy, he grinned at you with streams of sunlight dripping from the cracks between his teeth. “i love you so much,” he exclaimed, as if announcing it to the reporters and the fangirls circling around him; as if proclaiming a never-ending devotion to the world. it was foreign on his tongue, and yet, it spilled out so smoothly, so naturally, as if he was born to utter those words solely to you.
a loud groan could be heard from his teammates — namely hinata, who stood from the side observing the scene in its entirety. kageyama paid no mind, for in that moment, he was bound to you.
𝜗𝜚 miya osamu
a loud clang reverberated throughout the building as the final customer left. as soon as the door shut, osamu heaved a heavy breath and slumped against the counter.
“‘m exhausting. this is tiring,” he complained, although you knew it wasn’t genuine, as foretold by the lazy smile plastered onto his face and the unadulterated joy in his eyes. “i dun’ know if i can do this for the resta’ my life.”
you merely hummed and sat beside him. your hand found solace on the canvas of his back, the repetitive circular ministrations seemingly doing wonders to him. “it’s okay. i’ll be here with you for all of it,” you whispered.
“really?”
“really.”
a handful of minutes passed in a shared silence before osamu turned to you. his lips quivered, as if he were preparing to let loose a truth that he had been holding onto for centuries. you could only hold your breath in anticipation.
“i love ya lots,” he blubbered, his eyes suddenly overflowing with tears. “thank you for staying with me.”
you grinned. “i love you too, ‘samu.”
𝜗𝜚 sakusa kiyoomi
“i’m home,” a small voice muttered from the front door. the clock on the microwave read 2:43 AM in bright green lettering, the first sign of sakusa’s late arrival.
the second sign came in the darkness of the apartment. all lights, save for the kitchen, had been turned off (you had a habit of leaving one light on for him). the man hung his bag carefully, his touch light against the strap and his movements in slow motion. with soft steps, he padded over to your shared bedroom, only to be greeted with the most vulnerable of sights.
atop the blankets, there you lay — donning your boyfriend’s sleep shirt, bathing in the strands of moonlight that peeked through the blinds, and light breaths falling from your lips. sakusa stood in the doorway for just a moment to soak it all in. he watched your chest rise and fall, the tips of your finger twitching against the mattress as if sensing his presence, and your head buried into the pillow on his side of the bed. slowly but surely he made his way to you, his own breathing light, for he feared that even the softest breaths would awaken you from such a peaceful slumber.
he was so sure that you were fast asleep, thus fueling his desire to unleash a proclamation he had hidden deep within the crevices of his heart and soul. sakusa leaned down against your ear, his voice, albeit raspy and a little too loud, whispering, “i love you.” nothing could have prepared him for your sleepy reciprocation.
𝜗𝜚 ushijima wakatoshi
on a warm summer day, ushijima found himself lounging with you on the couch, his legs entangled in yours and your gaze not on him, but rather, the book in your hands. he didn’t mind — he considered the scenario quite peaceful.
the look on his face said otherwise. his stare trailed far off into nowhere and his lips were cast into a small frown. his brows were furrowed ever so slightly, all evidence of some sort of frustration or concern. he didn’t notice the tenseness in his features for a while, until you pointed it out.
“what’s got you so worried, toshi?” your worrisome tone made his chest feel light, the wings of butterflies tapping against his ribcage. he adored how concerned you were; he thought that to receive such undivided affection was to be receive the highest blessing of all.
“i love you, that’s all,” he blurted out, as if it were a mention of the weather or a discussion of recent events. but it was not. you jumped from your spot and leaned towards your lover.
“you- you what?”
ushijima cleared his throat, his embarrassment evident. “i said i love you.”
if it were to witness the child-like grin that overcame your lips once more, he would express his love for you again and again.
𝜗𝜚 akaashi keiji
akaashi ushered you into his car, paying mind to the stumble in your movements as you crawled onto his passenger seat. the scent of alcohol hung heavy on your skin. you were far too delirious to function on your own, he realized.
gingerly, he removed your heels from your feet and massaged the blistered skin before making a mental note to bandage it when you got home. he then removed his jacket from his shoulders and blanketed it on top of you, as if tucking you in for bed. with a content sigh, he made his way to the driver’s seat.
akaashi would be lying if he said he didn’t find your sleepy state cute. you had just ended your “girl’s night out” — he had promised to pick you up at exactly 10 PM, and that is exactly what he did. what he hadn’t expected was this — you, nearly unconscious in his car, with little to no energy to even move a limb nor form a sentence.
he glanced over at you, his heart beating faster than usual. his voice barely carried itself into the wind as he whispered a small “i love you” onto your forehead before pressing a delicate kiss. perhaps he’d find the courage to say it to your face some other day — for now, this was enough.
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ratsarecute4 · 22 hours
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Some Hatchetfield Headcanons
Richie had a Warrior Cats phase in elementary school
Ruth owns a pet chameleon named Yoda
Max thinks that Pizza Pete's is owned by Pete, and that is where he gets the money for his rich kid bowtie
Mayor Lauter pays Steph's allowance in cryptocurrency
There was a month where the Clivesdale Chemists and the Hatchetfield Nighthawks had an even higher amount of hatred for eachother than usual. The Chemists accused the Nighthawks of stealing their mascot (they didn’t, the kid just moved to Hatchetfield)
Because of the mascot stealing allegations, the Chemists decided to steal the Nighthawks mascot for ransom, but they let Richie go after an hour because he wouldn't stop explaining the plot of One Piece
The problematic puppy Steph got in a Twitter fight about was the cop dog from Paw Patrol
Ziggy owns a couple of pet snakes
The Smoke Club has a rule that you must wear at least one weed-patterned item of clothing to meetings or else you're out of the club
Ted is one of those guys whose bedroom has just a mattress on the floor and a TV sitting on a bunch of cardboard boxes
Also Ted gives big lives in his parents' basement vibes
No one at CCRP ever knows what to get Paul for work holiday parties so now he owns a bunch of gifted mugs and he's starting to run out of cabinet space because he doesn't want to get rid of anything that was gifted to him
The Hatchetfield High theatre department has never payed for the rights to a play. The students don't know about this. Ms Mulberry is fully aware of how illegal that is but continues to do it anyway. Hatchetfield is a small town, they won't get caught. Also the theatre department has like no funding
Grace was a horse girl in elementary school and she used to eat grass
Charlotte sells DoTERRA essential oils on the side. Everyone at the office has tried to tell her its basically a pyramid scheme but she doesn't believe them
Miss Holloway was a famous rockstar in the 80s, but after she made a deal with the Lords in Black, her past existence was wiped from everyone's memories and no one ever listened to her songs again
Grace has OCD, specifically religious scrupulosity
Richie owns so many body pillows that he no longer has room for himself on his bed
Ruth and Sherman Young have beef with eachother from Ruth's middleschool My Little Pony phase
Kyle is autistic and I will die on this hill
Max's mom dissapeared after being crowned Honey Queen. She wanted the prize money to support her family because Max's father was layed off from his job
I just know Brenda and Stacy are super into astrology
Local teens describe Paul's aesthetic as "cardboardcore"
Ted has one of these tattoos. He doesn't remember getting it and it took him forever to notice because it is on his back. It is a miracle that it never got infected
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coryothesub · 3 days
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I need a Coryo smut where the reader finds him smelling her panties while masturbating.
Take example from this lovely anon and send more asks because interaction gives me dopamine
I took the liberty of making this a peacekeeper Coryo thing, because that sounds just like something a peacekeeper Coryo would do.
nsfw / mdni / pk!sub!coryo / district!dom!reader
You returned home after a long day of hard work and to your great dismay your front door was open.
Had you forgotten to lock it or someone had broken into your house to look for food or your non-existent valuables? Or maybe those were the goddamn peacekeepers again? In District 12 you just never knew.
You grabbed a knife from the kitchen and started inspecting your shack not sure whether the possible intruder was still there. 
Then you were caught off guard by soft moans and whimpers coming from the bedroom. You actually thought you recognized this voice from before.
You put the knife down and peeked through the crack in the door just to discover that your suspicions were right. It was Private Coriolanus Snow laying in your small bed, resting his back against the pillows. 
He was fully dressed except for his cock outside his uniform pants, his hand wrapped around it as he was pumping it at a rapid pace. You bit your lip realizing he was a well-endowed young man, well above the average. 
He didn't notice you as his eyes were closed and his face was buried in your panties that you had forgotten to throw in the laundry basket after changing before work.
He let out a series of sweet moans as he breathed in your scent coming from the tiny piece of fabric and his cock jerked in his hand. Such a naughty little pervert.
The sight of the handsome uniformed man pleasuring himself was undeniably arousing. You didn’t even notice at which moment you brought your hand down to your most heated area and let it dive under the waistband of your panties. You felt a pool of treacherous wetness on the tips of your fingers as soon as you reached your clit. Your mind wasn't sure how you felt about this but your body was ready to go with it.
You bit your lip to avoid moaning in unison with the indecent young man occupying your bed.
He groaned deeply, sinking his nose deeper into the white fabric of your panties. It felt like he was about to cum soon and that certainly wasn’t something to be allowed. You walked into the room and cleared your throat loudly.
Coryo sat up quickly tossing away your underwear and trying to cover his exposed manhood with your pillow. His eyes widened in terror and his already flushed cheeks tinted red as you walked over to the bed and your eyes met his with a furious look.
“Private Snow, what the hell are you doing here?” you spoke to him in a stern voice before ripping the pillow away from him and uncovering his painfully hard cock.
“I-I was just sent out on patrol a-and…” he tried to think of an excuse but no sensible words were coming out of his mouth.
“Maybe I should take you to your commander and inquire about the details of this weird little mission if yours. Pretty sure it didn't include patrolling in my bed with your dick out and your face buried in my panties, huh?”
Coryo looked at you in horror, wide-eyed and gaping. He felt his eyes welling up with tears of shame just at the thought of his higher ups finding out. There was no other option but to beg pathetically.
“Please,” he spoke with clenched teeth trying to prevent those pathetic tears from running down his face.
“Please what?” your tone grew even harsher as you felt your cunt getting impossibly wet from him being absolutely helpless at your mercy.
“Please don't go to my commander!” Coryo pleaded, his voice teary and frightened.
“You will have to behave then.” 
“Yes, I will do anything, I swear!” he quickly stood on his knees, grabbing at the hem of your dress.
“Okay then,” you sounded just a bit more admissive. “You’ll have to obey everything I say. One wrong move and all your peacekeeper friends will find out what a filthy little pervert you are.”
Coryo nodded quickly.
“Lay back!”
The blonde boy assumed his previous position, resting his upper body against the pillows.
You pulled down your panties and waved them in front of his face mockingly before tossing them aside and crawling into the bed across from him. After finding a more comfortable position you parted your legs causing Coryo to let out a soft gasp at the sight of your pretty pussy.
You started rubbing yourself lazily and noticed his hand reaching for his stiffened member.
“Nuh-uh!” you shook your head in disapproval. “Naughty little perverts like you don't get to touch themselves.”
Coryo put his hand away quickly. It took a whole lot of focusing to control himself while you were playing with your cunt so deliciously. 
“Feels so good,” you moaned softly and threw your head back as you felt the warm feeling of pleasure washing over your body.
Coryo flared his nostrils watching you with the most pleading look you had ever seen. His cock was literally aching for touch and he needed you so badly.
You watched his despair with a shit eating grin and released yourself from the rest of your clothes making his situation even more unbearable.
You crawled over to him and straddled his hips, your pussy lingering just above his aching member.
“Here, have a taste!” you pushed your fingers between his lips and he started sucking around them hungrily trying to savor every last drop of your juices.
“So hungry…” you teased before pulling your fingers out of his mouth and grabbing his throbbing cock causing him to let out a soft whimper.
He quickly realized the torture wasn't nearly over when you pressed the tip of his dick to your puffy folds and started rubbing against it feeling his velvety skin brushing against your sensitive spot.
Coryo's breath hitched, feeling the long awaited friction. He needed to be inside you so badly.
“Please,” he begged, voice whiny and broken. He looked so adorably pathetic. “Please, I need you, just let me…” 
“Oh look at you, peacekeeper boy,” you kept teasing, rubbing his tip against your clit. “Such a slut for me. So damn pathetic.”
You felt Coryo's dick twitch in your hand just as you said those words.
“Please,” he mouthed, completely dazed from your relentless teasing. “Can you say that again? That word…”
“Oh,” you felt slightly surprised. “You love it don't you, slut boy!”
Coryo's eyes fluttered as he let out a sigh of contentment. As pathetic as it sounded, being called a slut by a district girl while he was still dressed in his full peacekeeper uniform felt strangely arousing.
“Slut!” you repeated, slapping his cheek just as you dove down on his cock, burying it in your dripping wet count.
Coryo's brain shut down completely and he let out a desperate groan. He’d almost thought this would never happen.
You wrapped your hand around his neck feeling his pulse wild and restless under your touch  as you started riding his cock.
“Oh, fuck, Coriolanus!” you moaned out his name feeling his massive dick stretching out your tight walls. Edging him had made you quite desperate for your own release and you knew for sure that none of you would last much longer.
“P-please! Keep going…” Coryo begged unthinkingly although you had no intention of stopping.
You leaned closer to him as your pussy was still bouncing up and down his shaft and locked your lips with his. The boy tried to meet your kiss hungrily but the pressure of your hand against his throat made him gasp for air. 
You kept lingering above his lovely pink lips enjoying his absolute helplessness under your firm grip. His adorable gasps and whimpers combined with his wonderful cock hitting against your sweet spot brought you over the edge and you climaxed, cumming all over his rock hard member.
You kept riding Coryo through your orgasm feeling his breath speeding up under your fingers. His pale blue eyes widened and his cock twitched against your walls just before bucking his hips up and releasing his load deep inside your tight pussy.
You climbed off him and sank in the sheets powerlessly.
“S-so… Is this gonna stay a secret? You know, between me and you?” Coryo asked anxiously post orgasm shakiness still present in his voice as he was zipping up his uniform pants.
“I'm gonna let you off with a warning this time. You're truly lucky that your dick is so good.”
“Thank you!” the boy blushed, secretly basking in your little praise.
You picked up your panties from the floor and put them in his hand.
“Here have these! Maybe having a pair with you will finally make you stop breaking into my house.”
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pagesfromthevoid · 3 days
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Imagine this because I am and it’s just. It’s cute and I just REALLY WANT TO PLATONICALLY HUG ASTARION IN THAT FUCKING DUNGEON
Cuddle Puddle:
The party returns back from killing Cazador and Astarion has essentially disappeared. Tav is worried sick, because even if they’re with Gale, Astarion is her friend and she’s scared. Gale tries to reassure her obviously because he doesn’t want her worried but she just can’t help it.
Astarion finally comes back, still covered in blood and battered from the fight, and Tav immediately approaches to check on him. He tries to wave her off but she scolds him, reminding him that they’re friends and she was scared.
“Can I just…can I hug you? Is that okay?” She asks, because she’s never actually touched Astarion, let alone hugged him.
He hesitates but nods slowly, because he also hasn’t been hugged in centuries and honestly he has no idea what to expect. But Tav throwing her arms around him to hold him like this is almost too much to bear. And he just starts sobbing into her neck.
So when he’s finally done sobbing and being a mess (Tav doesn’t mind. She reminds him over and over it’s okay to cry! She cries all the time! So does Gale!), he pulls away and apologizes. But she waves him off with a reassuring smile.
“Why don’t you lay with me a while? Just so you’re not alone.”
And Astarion immediately thinks —no, she’s not trying to proposition me. Not now, not after everything. But looking at her, he realizes she’s *not*. She’s just…being nice. Offering solace and comfort in her arms like a mother would her child.
“I’m sure your wizard would be less than thrilled,” he counters, though he wants to. So bad.
“Gale doesn’t mind —do you?” She turns to Gale now, those puppy dog eyes working wonders on the resident know it all. “Just a cuddle. Nothing more than that.”
Gale stammers a bit and blushes, but shakes his head. “I- no, of course not. A comforting embrace is an important cure for overwhelming feelings. And I’d know —Tav has spent many a night comforting me.”
“Gale —,”
“I mean with cuddling!”
Astarion hesitates again, but nods slowly as Tav takes his hand gently. Gale pushes two of the beds in the Elfsong room together, making it a little more comfortable for the three of them to lay down. Astarion is surprised Gale agreed, given how uppity he had gotten when Halsin approached Tav, but he’s secretly thankful the Wizard didn’t mind as he sat on the edge of the beds.
Tav practically throws herself into the middle, sighing as she pulls all the pillows around her like she’s making a nest. Astarion watches for a moment then kicks his shoes off and joins her, allowing her to take him in her arms and rest his head against her chest. Her arms snake around him tight, hugging him close to her. Gale makes room for himself on her other side, where she rests her head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around her.
“What’s this, then? A cuddle party and I wasn’t invited?” Karlach all but yells, throwing her hands in the air. “Finally get my engine tuned and I can’t even have a cuddle.”
“No one said you couldn’t,” Astarion counters, peaking up from where he lay against Tav. “It *is* rather nice.”
“Softy,” Tav teases, running her nails through his hair. Then she extends her free arm out to Karlach. “C’mon then.”
Karlach all but squeals in delight, pushing another bed closer to connect the three. Then she throws herself into the mix, laying half on top of Gale and Tav.
“Fuck, this is great. I love this. I love you guys.”
Tav glances up at Gale, who’s trying not to move too much or risk pushing Karlach off him. But he leans down and kisses Tav’s hair and Astarion all but gags.
“No way,” Karlach warns, swatting Gale’s face away from Tav. “Absolutely no lovey dovey shit in the cuddle puddle.”
Halsin joins next, though he takes up far more space than anyone else. And then Shadowheart comments about missing out on all the fun, so Tav finds her way out to pull her in too. Wyll joins, laying closer to Astarion with a soft smile and his arm around the vampire (who totally doesn’t move away from Tav to lay a little closer to the Blade of Frontiers. No way). Lae’Zel side eyes everyone, but caves and sits on the floor beside the bed.
Eventually, they throw all the pillows and blankets in the sitting space by the fire to make more room for everyone.
This begins the party cuddle puddle.
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seokari · 3 days
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Thinking about
Bf!Gojo Satoru (sfw and nsfw) Pt.1
Note⊹˚. ♡.𖥔: Please remember that english is not my first language so please excuse my spelling mistakes. And, if you aren't comfortable with nsfw content, im going yo add a mark so you know when to stop reading♡
Tw!: Suggestive language!, p in v sex, pussy eating (cunnilingus), hand job, giving head, chocking on cock, consensual sex while you are asleep, car sex, semi!public sex. (if I forgot something ill add it later)
Sfw
Bf!Satoru who proudly accepts that he is an spoiled man, he loves being babied, he gets pouty and whiny when he doesnt get the attention he needs.
You two are on the bed, your back against the support, a book and a marker in your lap, you are studying, and Satoru, is laying on his tummy, elbows on the bed, hands holding his own face, looking at you.
"Baby.." It's the 50th time he called you, poking your cheek and looking at you with expectant eyes.
"Toru, im busy, could you do something else meanwhile?"
A loud whine "Nooo~", he rolled in the bed, face hiding in the pillow. He lift his head again, a pout in his pinkish lips, and those stupid puppy eyes.
Bf!Satoru who isn't afraid of having pda almost everywhere, but, his pda is NOT just holding hands, this man is extremely touchy, he enjoys having you in his lap almost all the time, hands on your waist, lower back, or your butt, his lips attached to you almos all the time. He enjoys ruffling your hair, kissing your hands, pecking your nose, etc etc.
Bf!Satoru who enjoys a little too much giving you gifts, mostly buyable things, he isn't very good at handmade things, last time he tried to make something you ended up with your hands all sticky because of the glue of the handmade flower he made.
You saw the flower at his desk in his dorm.
"Toru whats that?" You take the flower. " Who made this?" You look up just to see the biggest pout on his face.
" I really tried to make something cute for you, but I ended up fucking it up" He gets closer to take the flower but you keep it.
"Actually is pretty cute, a little bit sticky, I loved it" The smile in his face brightens up really quickly.
Bf!Satoru who is super jealous, 90% possesive, 10%Insecure (yes, we aint gonna argue about this). He isn't embarrassed of just coming up to you and kissing those lips until you cant breath, other times, he gets whinny and extra needy, begging you to leave the place.
Nsfw
Bf!Satoru who is a pussy drunk man, he loves having his tonge and fingers buried deep inside your pussy. Those long ass fingers doing an "in and out" motion while he sucks on your clit, and you know pretty damn well he is not going to stop until you are sobbing and begging him to stop. Link
Bf!Satoru who hasn't even said hello to you when he got home, and he already has you with your legs scrunched to you chest, and you panties to the side, lapping at your cunt like an starving puppy. Link
" Look how wet she is baby, how she is sucking my finger, want me to put it in mhm?" His middle finger teasing your folds up and down.
" Toruu" Your whiny voice warms his heart ♡.
Bf!Satoru who's quantity of cum inside his balls is insane, he can cum over, and over, and over without running out of milk. That is actually a plus, because, combined with his stamina, he can create something, that for him, is the best of the sexs. Sticky sex, seing your butt/face/pussy covered in his milk, its something that he wouldn't change for anything. Link
Bf!Satoru who likes to have your gagging on his cock, messy makeup, teary eyes, hair in his fist, you hands searching for something to hold your balance. The teasing and the cocky smiles never leave him, caressing your cheek with his hand.
"What happens baby? Is it to big for you little mouth?" His thumb cleaning the tears. "Sucking me so good got you exhausted?"
Bf!Satoru who gets posessive pretty easy, seing you "flirt" with Nanami didn't make him the happiest man alive, so guess who's getting rough fucked tonigth? Link
Bf!Satoru who teases you placing his dick on your belly to show you how deep it is going to be and then shove his cock inside you. Link
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teruuw · 3 days
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Diluc drabble cause ‘m procrastinating on my requests heh . . ! ς꒰ ˊ˘ ˁ ⑅ ꒱ა
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Imagine a completely worn out Diluc , coming home to his wifey while he could barely keep his eyes open. He had just finished a long day working at the Angel Share , his head was simply about to explode , having to hear about non senses from the Bard and Kaeya didn’t do any good to him.
All he needed right now was just laying down on your shared bed , close his eyes and get tons of sleep. . and imagine his surprise when instead , you offered to make your lap his pillow and play with his long , silky hair ; you didn’t have to say it twice , before you found your husband making himself comfortable on your legs , hands caressing your thighs slowly and you swore you could feel him melt on you when you started massaging his head. He let’s out a long and desperate sigh as his hands grip your thighs tighter. . oh he surely was the happiest man alive in that moment.
It didn’t take much time for him to fall in a peaceful slumber , between his darling’s legs ; but be careful , if he slightly senses your hand leaving his hair , he will wake up letting out a small whine , before looking up with his puppy eyes and telling you “ just 5 more minutes dear , please. . ” turning those 5 minutes into a session of 2 hours.
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God im such a loser for Diluc . . will work on my requests during easter’s break !
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theparadoxmachine · 1 year
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How did I never show you all this picture of my cat?? Lookit him! And yes, he lets me bury my hand and occasionally my face in there.
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storm-of-feathers · 8 months
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christ.
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thou-babbling-brook · 2 years
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Listen I just KNOW in the time he had with his granddaughters before shit hit the fan that Altaïr absolutely spoiled them rotten okay
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luveline · 4 months
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𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧
remus’ touch after a long night prompts a tired confession (and a slew of clumsy kisses). 
requested here. modern au. fem!reader, 3.6k.
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
“I'm going to bed,” Sirius mumbles, scratching at his eyes as he gets up. “Don't let her sleep in her makeup. She'll get an eye infection.” 
Your eyes are getting sore, but it's hardly Remus' responsibility to make sure you wash your face tonight, nor Sirius’ to remind you. “I'm a big girl.” 
Sirius sends you a smile, ignoring your chiding. “Goodnight, my loves,” he says, waving you both away as he heads out of the living room and up the stairs. 
“Notice how he didn't do his dishes?” Remus asks, shifting beside you. 
He's sitting as he tends to, slouched in a way that can't be good for his back in the long run but is clearly comfortable short term. His chin is on his chest, his legs kicked out under the coffee table, which is decorated by the casualties of the night. Sirius’ dinner plate, Remus’ mug, James’ rarely used handheld console. He'd been playing a cutesy farming sim before he said goodnight an hour ago. Sirius stayed to mess with James’ crops and eat a late supper. You're surprised it took him as long as it did to admit defeat. 
“What time is it?” you ask. 
You're laying on the sofa with your socked feet tucked behind Remus’ back, of which he's yet to complain. His elbow brushes your shin as he brings up his arm. “Nearly one in the morning, now,” he reads from his watch. “Let's go to bed too, yeah?” 
“I don't want to.” You turn your face into the pillow behind your neck.
“Me neither,” Remus says, dropping his hand on your knee.
You watch another twenty minutes of TV together failing to summon the energy to stand, but the want for a glass of water grows too big. Your head throbs as you get up, offering your hands to the pretzel that is your favourite housemate.
Remus turns off the TV and lights. You lock the front door. He carries the dirty dishes to the kitchen and you fill up two glasses of water to take with you. It's all so… regular. A routine you share nearly every night, only to climb into your two separate beds. 
He ushers you out of the kitchen and down the hallway with his hand behind your shoulders, his touch a phantom as you ascend the stairs.
You're silent beside the creak of the old wood, too tired to speak. Remus is similarly quiet, though he does whisper, “Watch,” when you nearly kick the box of Halloween decorations waiting to be taken up into the attic. 
You leave your water on the towel box in the alcove and dance around one another in the bathroom. Sirius’ toothbrush lays on the sink still wet, but otherwise there's no signs of him. 
You're feeling very, very tired. You hadn't realised how bad it was until you're putting your toothbrush in your mouth, leant up against the window sill, a slot of cold air seeping in from the dark outside. Your eyes shutter closed. The scrubbing sound of Remus brushing his teeth is almost lulling. 
He swills out his mouth and washes his brush. “Here,” he says gently. You open your eyes just enough to see him beckoning you forward. “Dove, your necklace.” 
“Oh. Thanks.” You turn your back to him. 
His fingers are damp and cool on your skin as he unclasps your necklace. He often takes it off for you. It's one of the things you'll miss when you guys aren't living together anymore, the slow meander to his bedroom, the wood of his door jam on your cheek as you lean against it and give him a hopeful smile. Sometimes he's awake, reading a novel on his side in bed or listening to music at his desk, other times he's sleeping. On those occasions you spend too long lingering, stolen seconds spent staring at the rise and fall of his shoulder. 
“Thank you,” you say as he puts your necklace in the jewellery dish. It comes out missing vowels, lips stuck together as though honeyed. 
You spit pathetically in the sink, rinse your brush, and consider sitting down. “I'm tired,” you whine, wiping your lips. 
“I know,” Remus says, giving you a fond nudge. “Just wash your face and get on with it.” 
“You first. I'm going to nap standing up for a bit.” 
He puts as much of his hair behind his ears as he can and turns on the tap. This is just as familiar as brushing your teeth together. It's not quite as bad as watching James Perfect Skin Potter wash his face with bar soap, but you have to admit that Remus’ eight-nine pence face soap hurts your heart. He washes it off, pats his face dry, and takes the small bottle of bio oil out of the medicine cabinet to pipette onto his pinky finger. “Wash your face,” he says, smoothing the oil into his scars one by one. 
You shake your head. “M'gonna do it in the morning.” 
“That's why your eye was swollen a few weeks ago. You know yourself you won't.” 
“I might,” you say, letting out a big breath as you rub your sore eyes even sorer, “I'm too tired.” 
“Can you sit up, at least?” 
“No.” Remus takes you by the shoulders and forces you to sit on the edge of the bath. “Aggressive?” 
“Don't fall in,” he says, cupping your cheek briefly as if to make sure you've heard. 
You are hearing him, seeing him, even feeling the immensity of his touch, but you're tired, and you know you can let yourself relax completely with him. You'd be the same with James or Sirius, though neither of them could have your head feeling so dizzyingly light from a single touch as Remus can. You probably wouldn't let them persuade you into this, either, tilting your head back to watch through blurry vision as Remus soaks a cotton round in your facial oil. 
“Close your eyes,” he says. 
“Was that a dracula impression?” 
“I command you.” 
You close your eyes. The queasy feeling of oil drags against your lids as Remus wipes them, loosening the stiff tubes of mascara that coat your lashes. It's not a short process because he's very, very gentle, holding your face delicately as though you're a flower in need of coddling, and him the sun. It's the only metaphor that would ever make sense for you and Remus; he's like the sun even if it goes against every statement he's ever made about himself, or anyone else has, for that matter. People think he's a moody, sarcastic boy, and he is, but he's also a vestibule of sweetness, softness, and warmth. The kind of heat you'd only ever feel kissing your skin under the summer sun. But more than that, he's the relief that follows when the clouds come out. 
And his hands are all over you. Your head gets heavier by the minute, eased into dozing by his touch and quiet tones. “We're almost done. I'm gonna have to carry you to bed at this rate.” 
“I'm going to miss this so much one day,” you say. It's easier to admit when you're not looking at him. 
Remus turns on the tap. Hot water runs, you can tell by the sound as strange as it seems, and he wrings the dirtied cotton round before replacing it with a new one. He wets it, bringing it just that touch too hot to your cheeks to wipe you down. “What are you going to miss, dove?” 
“Us. You. I'm going to miss you.” 
“Where are you going?” 
“Nowhere, but one day I will be. James will finally have had enough of us and I'll,” —you swallow around nothing as a rivulet of water runs down your cheek, a cooling tear from the cotton round— “have to move out and we'll never see each other anymore.” 
“Don't be silly, you're not going anywhere.” 
“It's not about the going,” you murmur, peeling your eyes open tentatively as his dabbing follows down your cheek to your neck. “I miss you sometimes and we still live together. I can't imagine how much I'll miss you…” 
Remus puts the cotton round aside. He takes your face into his hand, and suddenly his touch feels raw, nothing like it had moments ago. Because Remus would wash your makeup off for you any day of the week, but his looking at you like this, so unshielded and unabashed, is a rarity. 
“You won't have to miss me. Even if we did move away from each other, I wouldn't let it be that far.” 
“Friends move away all the time. We don't speak to half the people we knew at school.” 
“I only really knew you and the boys,” he says. It isn't true but it is at the same time. Together, you'd been a happy lot, but your current housemates are the ones you'd known. “And see? We're still together.” 
“But for how long?” you ask. 
Remus brings his second hand, holding your face entirely. He covers your cheeks, index fingers sliding slowly under your ears. He's exceedingly gentle, and his eyes are soft. He holds you like you're made of glass, like you could break under a hint of pressure. Slowly, he tilts his head to the side as though he might lean in for a kiss. Maybe he doesn't know he's doing it, but Remus is a very purposeful soul. He'd do much worse to wind you up if you wanted him to. 
You sober up. It's like he has caffeine in his palms. 
“You want to go where I'm going, is that it?” he asks quietly. 
“Yeah,” you say, barely say, voice shame-facedly weak. Is he asking what you think he is?
“Do you want to start now?” 
You breathe out as one of his hands shifts down your jaw. “Yeah, I… I want to start now.” 
“Okay, dove. Then close your eyes again.” 
You hold his gaze for a second that feels infinitely long and short at once, your heart racing. Clarity has returned, a thrust into wakefulness even if your fatigue ties knots around your ankles. You look at him in his late night glory, his scars shining a pink-white like the petals of a young peony flower, and you know it's happening now. 
You shut your eyes. 
He steps closer, though the bath you're perched on is low, and he has to bend a considerable amount to reach you. The weight of his hands on you doesn't change, not even as he grows near enough to sense the heat of his breath against your lips. It's his nose that makes first contact as it slides against yours, and then his forehead presses down into you, his lips noticeably absent. Each contiguity between you thrums. 
A pit opens in your chest, cleaved by his voice as he says, “I'm going to kiss you, okay? S'that what you want?” 
Your hands don't feel like your own. Under the sickening nervousness twining its way through your ribs, you're excited. You're smiling, your voice shaped by it. “Yeah. It's what I want,” you say. 
“Good. It's what I've wanted for a while–” while pressed into your lips, all shaken up by an emotion you've never heard him speak with. He kisses you and you're frozen, and he waits and waits and pulls away to push back in. You remember yourself then, responding to his wading with some pressure of your own. Sparked back to life. 
It's so strange. It doesn't feel real. Remus Lupin kisses you heated and hard for just long enough to feel it in your teeth before he pulls away. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his fingertip running down your cheek, following that same path as your earlier rivulet. To think he saw it, really saw it, locked it away to remember and trace into your skin now… maybe he's seen much more of you than you realised all along. 
“Will you do it again?” you say under your breath. 
Remus must hear the thread of insecurity running through your question; you're afraid he'll say no, but he strokes your cheek again with that unfathomable softness and says, “Yeah, dove, of course I will.” 
“Do you want to?” 
And that's less insecurity and more selfishness, wanting the confession. He hears that, too. 
“I want to kiss you more than I've ever wanted anything,” he says, eye to eye with you, your head tipped up and your heart in your throat, twitching and fizzling like a firecracker. “Yeah? And all that missing me you've been doing? All your worrying? You don't need to do that. You've never needed to do that–” 
“I just never thought you liked me like that.” You and Remus aren't new to one another. “You've been the same since the day we met.” 
Remus’ hands get a little more solid where he's holding you. “Dove. Dove, are you mad?” 
“Remus–” 
“Maybe I have been the same, but did you really not notice that I–” He squeezes your cheeks playfully, almost in disbelief. “If you want me, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere without you. You're not going anywhere without me.” 
“So you like me?” 
“Yes,” he says, his eyebrows pinched together at the starts. “Of course I do.” He laughs. “That's what I'm trying to tell you.” 
“Oh,” you say, lifting your head. 
Remus shuts his eyes a millisecond before you shut your own and kisses you again. The second round is softer, his smile to yours and struggling to find purchase. His breath huffs out in a minty laugh, shockwaves through your mouth. 
“Stop laughing,” he breathes, his hands falling to your neck, your shoulders.
“You first.” 
Your lips part under his, a split-second of contact. He yanks away before things can get too heavy, and you're glad he does, but for a moment you feel the loss like a wave of vertigo. 
“Sorry, I'm going too fast, and you're tired.” His touch is ticklish behind your shoulder. 
“It's okay. Maybe it is a bit fast, but I'm not tired anymore,” you confess. 
Remus hugs you, cementing every feeling for him you have as he wraps his arms around you from over your shoulders, a deft hand cupped behind your neck. “That's not true. I can feel your back shaking. Let's go to bed.” 
“After that?” 
“What, are you worried it won't have happened in the morning?” he asks genuinely. 
You go limp in his arms as he takes your weight against his chest. Not worried, but rather not sure you can be away from him so soon. You ask him in a whisper if you can come and sit with him, not to sleep with him, not to do anything else, and he whispers back, Anything you want. You both entertain the lie that you won't fall asleep in his bed. 
Remus tenses as he hears the scuffling sounds of movement downstairs. It takes a train of thought awakening for him to realise it's only James, rising early as usual to put on a load of washing and prepare bits for lunch before he goes off for training. He can see him in his mind's eye if he tries, his friend dressed in the red and white rugby uniform, green socks up over his calves and white cleats scrubbed pristine for another ruck in the mud. 
Remus’ relaxes, stretching out in bed until his hand bumps into something rigid. 
He flinches. 
You're laying on the mattress beside him, your head slipped off of the pillows and your arm tucked beneath you. It doesn't look comfortable, and if it were any other morning he'd pull it straight for you, but. 
I kissed you, he thinks to himself, as though talking to you. He turns away from you until his back clicks and alleviates the ache in his hips, though he has to settle eventually, back on his back, no way of ignoring you. He doesn't want to ignore you. The opposite —why are you so far away? Can he hold you? 
What are the rules here? 
Kissing… not dating… You're here in his bed, you'd asked to stay. 
He takes your hand and pulls at your arm. Still sleeping, you mumble and move onto your back, releasing the pressure on your shoulder as he pulls you toward his chest. Your face is impassive, lax in sleep. 
He should let you sleep. 
“Dove,” he says, stroking up the length of your arm. 
“Mm?” you hum. 
“I need to ask you something.” 
You twitch awake with a small cough. Your eyes are red with a lack of sleep as you open them, blinking, and he wishes stupidly that he could make it better. He makes a sympathetic sound for want of more to do. 
“Why have you woken me up?” you ask, blinking at him. You gather that there's nothing urgent happening and push your face into his shoulder, practically nuzzling him. “It's Saturday.” 
“I just need to ask you something.” 
“So ask me,” you encourage through your sleepiness. 
The washing machine whirs downstairs. It’s an old machine that you often joke is taking off into orbit during the final spin, loud as anything. He can barely hear your sluggish breathing underneath it, but he can't miss the catch in it after he asks, “Can I be your boyfriend?” 
It's not the catch he's expecting. You laugh and readjust, wrapping your arms around him from the side and kissing the side of his neck clumsily. “Y'u asked me last night,” you say in a borderless run-on, sounding about as dopily in love as he's ever heard you. 
He thinks about it. Yes, he did, after he'd kissed you many more times than he should've and curled up in bed with you, hands held loosely beneath the blankets. He remembers the question, the answer. The last kiss that followed, and you falling asleep beside him. 
“I need a coffee,” he says, encouraging your head back so he can kiss your temple. 
“No, you need to sleep more with me. And maybe kiss me again. If you want to.” 
Sleeping isn't half as interesting as kissing you. He slots his nose against yours and languishes in the feeling of your lips, wondering if he's having a false start. He could still be dreaming. It would make sense. 
The door clatters open with a curse. James stands in the doorway with a folded pile of Remus' washing from the radiators in his arms, an apology on his lips, “Sorry, mate, the door got away from– oh my god. Oh my god?” 
Remus isn't an overly shy guy but he can't deal with this. “For fuck's sake,” he mutters, dropping his face into your shoulder. Your arm wraps under his neck, fingers splayed across his cheek. 
“James–” you begin, resigned to your fate. 
“This is flat-cest. This is the cardinal sin.” 
“We don't live in a flat,” Remus says. 
“That makes it worse. You can't even blame close quarters.” Remus peeks up to watch James in the doorway, still clinging to Remus’ washing, pure shock curdling his features. He shakes his head. “I'm telling Sirius.” 
“Please don't!” you say.
You slump back into the pillows as James leaves anyways. 
Remus hugs your soft abdomen. “Don't worry,” he says.
“I guess it's a good thing you've already asked me out,” you say. 
“Why, what can they do?” Remus asks, wondering if he's allowed to put his face on your chest or if that's too forward. You rake a hand through his hair and encourage him forward, to his delight. 
Frantic words. You and Remus loved up in bed despite it. 
“I'm chucking them out!” 
“James, they've been seeing for weeks. Can I go back to sleep?” 
“What?!” 
You grumble into his hair. “That's not even true… Does everyone know, then? That I liked you?” 
Remus thinks of the shadow of you in the doorway, that sheepish smile you send his way before you ask him to unclasp your necklace before bed, or your face as he’d wiped the sooty stain of mascara from your cheek last night, half in love with him as you fell asleep in his palm. 
“I don't think so, lovely,” he comforts. “Don't worry about it. We'll clear it up at lunch time. James isn't even mad, he's just sulking thinking we didn't tell him.”
“How could you not tell me?” James asks on cue, rounding the door again, arms ever tighter around the bundle of Remus’ clothes. He assumes it's being kept hostage. “I thought we were best mates.” 
“James,” you say softly, all sympathy. 
Remus likes the feeling of your voice under his ear, and your slightly too-quick heartbeat. He could fall asleep here and now if it weren't for the company. 
“It's new,” you're saying, softness melded to a sweet pride. “Okay? I've barely told Remus how I feel, of course I was going to tell you. We were only talking about it last night. It really hasn't been weeks, Sirius is a stirrer.” 
Remus pulls the covers up over your heads and climbs on top of you in a rush, demanding that the both of you be left alone, to James’ great annoyance but your delight, your laughter loud in the shell of his ear. Your chest shakes with it beneath him. 
A great wad of fabric hits him in the legs. “Twats,” James says, seemingly stalking off. 
Your whisper sends shivers down his spine. “We're alone again. Do you have anything else to ask me while you're too tired to remember?” you tease. 
There's not a chance in the world that Remus would ever forget this. 
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
thanks for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed, it's been a little bit since I wrote for remus like this so I was actually a bit nervous and I hope it's okay :D <3
6K notes · View notes
p3terparker · 10 months
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𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
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𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.
𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k
𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)
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“please hold me” 
it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.
“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.
“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.
adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.
you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.
“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”
“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”
“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.
“how did you–”
“i’m spider-man, baby”
“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.
“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”
“very. now come lay back down”
you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.
“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”
“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.
“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”
“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”
“okay fine, i’m done”
“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.
“you are truly such a big baby”
“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”
how could you deny him?
“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.” 
“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.
“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.
you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.
“aww petey, you’re so adorable” 
“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.
you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.
you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.
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callsign-datura · 3 months
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BREEDING KINK 141.
Ghost's breeding kink manifests after you express interest in having a kid.
He pistons in and out of you at a slow pace, his cock reaching impossibly deep with each thrust as you arch your back and put your ass up higher. You grip the sheets of the bed, whimpering quietly into the pillow you lay your head on as he leans over you and wraps an arm around your midsection, lifting your upper half up so he can whisper into your ear and hold you flush against him.
"You wanna be a mama? M'gonna make you a fuckin' mama."
He grunts, nipping at your earlobe as he angles his thrusts a little to reach deeper, the head of his cock knocking against your cervix with every other thrust.
"Gonna fuck you 'till it takes. Gonna fuck you every night and every mornin' to make sure it takes. Yeah, y'want that, sweetheart? Say you want it, love."
Soap's breeding kink has always been there, but he's never quite registered that he has one. It's not until you get baby fever that he starts thinking about having kids. You're getting baby products advertised to you online, and they start having the same effect on him.
"Oh, fuck, gimme a baby," you whimper, your face burying into his neck as your hips grind down into his. His head is tilted forward and he's watching your hips move, though his grip on your hips tightens when you utter the words. "Y'want a baby?" He mumbles, his grip on your hips tightening to the point where you whimper and stop. He releases it and looks up at you with those baby blues, and within a second he's got you on your back and your legs together, hanging over his shoulders as his thrusts pick up in speed.
"I'll give ye a baby, lass… give ye as many as ye want. Just say the word, sweet girl."
His thrusts get harder, and you're whining and mewling and you have your eyes shut tight as your orgasm takes over. He's cumming not long after, his cock twitching inside you as he pushes into you one final time.
"Mmm. Yeah, sweet girl, gonna give ye a kid… Can't tell me our kids won't be adorable."
Oh, Price? You don't have to tell him. He has a breeding kink, and it's obvious.
That man has FANTASIES about getting you pregnant. His breeding kink shows sometimes, like tonight.
He has you bent over the counter of your kitchen, your hair tangled up in his fist and his hand around your wrist, pulling on it gently and making you arch your back as he pounds into you.
Quick and rough thrusts as he grunts into your ear. "Imagine how you'd look, waddlin' 'round all swollen with my kid… can't wait till the day my cum finally takes, eh? I'll cherish you. Fuckin' cherish you." He whispers. His words are as rough as his thrusts, but they carry a gentleness. Especially when he's cumming. Wrapping an arm around your torso and letting you fall forward, picking up one of your legs by the underside of your knee and lifting it up and to the side so he can fuck you harder, he slams into you one final time before he's cumming buckets. The moment he notices his cum dripping out, he's pulling out and using two fingers to push hit back into you. mumbling something about not wasting a drop as he kisses your back.
Gaz's breeding kink is subtle. He only fucks you in positions where he can see your face. The day you start asking him to cum inside, he's thinking of you getting pregnant with his kid. Arms laced under your knees, hands on the plush of your ass and your back against the wall as he leans back and thrusts up into you. He's been fucking you slow like this for the past hour and you're getting needy. Squirming in his grip, pawing at your husband's chest and mewling about needing him to fuck you harder. He flashes that grin he wears whenever you've amused him and his movements suddenly ramp up in force as he pushes you further against the wall.
"Such a needy girl. Needin' me to fuck ya so hard you can't walk, huh? You've already came twice, what, d'ya want me to fill you up?"
Your cunt convulses around him.
"Yeah, that's it," he trills. "Needin' me to fill ya up so you can go to bed stuffed with my cum. Mm, maybe it'll take,"
He thrusts a bit harder into you and his grip on your ass tightens. He's thinking about filling you up even more now, and he can barely focus on anything but filling you up. So that's what he does. His thrusts stutter, and he throws his head back and groans out while you mewl.
"Oh, fuck. Mmm. Yeah, it'll take. Gonna give you a fuckin' baby, sweetheart."
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runa-falls · 3 months
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after dark
summary: he wants you. and he knows you need him.
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pairing: geneticist!miguel o'hara x intern!reader
rating: explicit [18+] - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT
cw: dark!miguel, dub/non-con elements, somnophilia, dacryphilia, drugging, afab!reader, stalking, obsession, smut, slight size kink, piv sex, creampie, breeding kink, gaslighting (?), a bit of dumbification, miguel's nano-suit in action!
wc: ~1.7k
a/n: this is my submission for @romana-after-dark's dead dove december event!
masterlist
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Despite the obnoxious number of pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals on your bed, your body is completely uncovered. A sweet scene reserved for his eyes only. 
You're curled up with your shirt shoved up to your chest, displaying your barely there panties that cling to your curves. Your body shivers unconsciously as a shadowed form cascades over your sprawled figure. He steps closer, his broad body blocking the moonlight that streams in through the window.
So unsuspecting. So…pure.
You nuzzle your face into your pillow with a sleepy sigh, body soft and relaxed, completely unaware of his presence. His claws dig into his palm as he holds himself back from touching you. 
You've always been a tease, showing up to work with those naive eyes and sweet smiles. More than once, your fingers have brushed against his as you shyly handed him a cup of coffee, mumbling an adorable, "For you, Dr. O'Hara", before scurrying away.
Red eyes glow as you move to lay on your back, legs falling apart to show him how the fabric of your underwear presses perfectly against the softness of your cunt. Your arms lazily stretch above your body, resting against the mess of your hair on the pillow. He seethes at the sight of your tits, barely shielded by your t-shirt.
You want this. 
He's sure of it. 
You're practically begging for it with how sweet you smell.
A hand lightly brushes against your abdomen, moving methodically so the sudden touch doesn't accidentally wake you. A finger hooks the underside of your shirt and tugs it over the curve of your tits, revealing your pebbling buds to the cool air. Sensitive.
He swallows down a groan as he captures a tit in his hand and softly squeezes the soft mound. You arch your back against his thumb as it barely flicks over your nipple and a soft whimper slips from your pouty lips against your pillow.
His other hand palms over his covered cock as it throbs desperately at the sight. Damn, you're a heavy sleeper.
Miguel lets his touch drift lower, teasing at the waistband of your underwear. He traces that cute little bow in the front, a symbol of innocence above a needy cunt. You’re so cute, acting all pure when all you really need is a big cock to fill you up. 
Two fingers press gently against your covered folds, prodding where you need him the most. You’re already wet for him, drenching the light fabric with your slick. He lightly tugs the underwear out of the way, needing to feel your sloppy cunt suck around his thick fingers.
Pulsing fangs dig into his bottom lip as he reveals your pussy, glistening so ethereally under the moonlight. He spreads your slick over your folds, mesmerized by the mess as you drip nectar onto the mattress below. God, you’re soaked. Even unconscious, you’re a desperate slut who’d take anything to be filled and bred. 
He attempts to push a finger inside of you, tenderly nudging at your entrance until he can ease the tip of his index finger inside your hot core. About halfway in, your body stiffens and your legs instinctively spread apart. 
You’re trying to let him in. You’re inviting him.
With more space, it’s easier to push in, to bury his finger until you’re wrapped around him. You feel so good, so wet and hot, perfectly tight around his finger. He can’t wait to feel the vice of your cunt around his cock.
Slowly, he pulls out, staring at the glistening tops of his knuckles, your mark on him. You let out a pretty sigh, so light and pleasurable and real that he’s afraid you woke up, but still you don’t open your eyes. 
Miguel pushes back in, just as slow, but this time at an angle. The tip of his finger drags against the top wall of your cunt and your pussy flutters around him. This time you let out a rough moan, involuntary, but so delicious. You’re so responsive to him.
His mouth waters as the heady scent of your lust calls him to coax more pretty sounds and messy slick from your body. He nearly turns you over to shove his cock into you, needing to feel your cunt swallow him until you’re staining your pillowcase with drool and tears.
He needs more. But he also needs you to cooperate. 
He leans over the side of the bed and hovers over your figure. His fangs throb under his top lip as he gets closer to you. He brushes your hair to the side, exposing your neck, eyeing the spot where your throat meets your shoulder. 
He presses a gentle kiss against your shoulder before laving his tongue against his target area, your sweet taste egging him on. Your body shivers with sensitivity as his hot mouth works over your skin, but you stay asleep. Your lack of awareness gives him the confidence to take the bite.
An involuntary moan rumbles up from his chest as his fangs sink into your soft skin. Miguel has to hold onto your arms before he gets carried away from the feeling. Your head involuntarily tilts to the side to give him more access to your neck as your body throbs, and you groan as a wave of pain, pleasure, and shock fills your senses.
Your eyes flutter open when the bed dips next to you announcing his presence, but all you can see is scarlet eyes staring down with curiosity. Your mind is foggy as you try to sit up, but your body stays flat on the mattress, feeling heavy and helpless. 
"Hmn…?"
Miguel coos lightly against your shoulder, “Shh…don’t worry, cariño. I’ll take care of you.”
You recognize that drawl, but you've never heard him so low and rough, “O’H-Hara?” You try to cover yourself with your blanket, slowly moving against whatever is holding you back, but he holds onto your wrist to stop your movements. “Wha–” You choke on your words as a sudden bout of heat spreads throughout your body.
The tingling hot sensation is overwhelming as it settles onto the surface of your skin. It makes your head fuzzy and susceptible.
"Let me help you..." Miguel settles over you and grinds his hips against yours, pinning you against your bed. He's hard against you, thick cock perfectly outlined by the thin fabric of his suit that's barely acting as a barrier between you. Your ruined underwear is still shoved to the side as he ruts himself against your cunt.
"Doctor..." Your body is immediately on fire, reacting mindlessly to his touch. You mewl wordlessly, arching your back and pressing harder against him. You don't know what's happening to your body. All you know is that you need more. "Please." It's a broken plea that leaves your tired lips.
There's an unbearable heat between your legs, but his body prevents you from pressing your legs together and reducing the intense feeling. He squeezes your wrists as you squirm under him, huffing in lustful frustration.
He whispers something above your ear that your scrabbled mind can't decipher, "Suit, Code Zero, Confirm."
But it doesn't really matter what he said when his bare body is finally pressing against you. He doesn't even have to line himself up before his aching cock is rubbing against your dripping folds, tip bumping so softly, yet earth-shatteringly, against your clit. “You don’t have to beg anymore, baby, I’ve got you…”
You cry out when he notches his cock against your entrance. He presses in slowly, letting you feel how completely he stretches you out. Miguel bites back a smile when he feels your legs shake against his hips. "This is what you wanted, isn't it, mi vida?" His voice is nearly a growl with how it drips with darkness.
You nod, eyes blearily searching his, wondering when he'll finally bottom out. Miguel watches your eyebrows scrunch together as you struggle with the intense pressure of him pushing in.
Adorable.
He groans when his hips finally meet yours, filling you to the brim. He doesn't waste time before beginning to move against you, fucking his cock into you over and over until you're eyes are rolling to the back of your head.
He doesn't stay gentle for long, easily losing himself to the feeling of your perfect little pussy wrapped around him. You can hear the distinct sound of his hips smacking against your thighs complimented by his rhythmic sopping jabs as he fucks you baselessly into your mattress.
It's all so much that you don’t even notice the tears that run down the sides of your heated cheeks onto the pillow under your head.
But he does.
"Feels that good, hm?" He teases, "Such a weepy baby. Can't even take a good fucking without cryin'." A raspy groan vibrates against you when your cunt accidentally flutters around him, unable to hold back against the pleasure he's forcing into your body. "Tell me you need me, cariño."
"I--" You try to hold yourself back from the edge, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of playing your body so perfectly, but then he rolls against you so fluidly, hitting that explosive spot inside of you.
"Go on, baby." Miguel encourages, "Say. It." He punctuates each word with a stabbing thrust right where you need him.
"Mngg..." Your cunt tightens impossibly hard around him as white fills your vision. A grated moan is squeezed out of your throat as you reach nirvana, every ounce of energy pushed out in one final bout. 
You don't mean to cum, you don't even want to, but you have no control over your body.
You go boneless as he continues to fuck you, harsh strokes against your weak body. "Mm, I’m gonna fill you up so good, cariño." Your body stiffens, quickly pulled out of your temporary state of euphoria from his words, "...Gonna fuck a baby into this pussy so you'll never leave me."
You try to shove yourself out of his hold, but his hold is too strong.
"W-wait, Dr. O--"
"It's Miguel." He growls out.
"Don't -- not inside --" Miguel ignores your pleas, letting go of one wrist to place his hand over your mouth. You can't do anything against his large body as he frantically ruts into you, taking everything he wants and more.
"You want this," He huffs. "You need me, baby. Need to be filled up and taken care of." He gives a few more hard, sloppy thrusts before shoving himself deep inside and painting your cunt with his cum.
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arminsumi · 5 months
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🔞 bed breaking ft. gojo
warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut, creampies, "princess", daddy kink, dirty talk, no plot just pure horny from my melted 1 am brain!!
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mmm gojo is fucking crazee 😖
so duh... sex with gojo is crazy too. erratic. sweaty. he has u in all imaginable positions all over the bed in the span of an hour. oh... two hours. oh ok... three hours. jesus... four hours? does he run out of stamina? uhhh... yeah if your pussy milks him too good, then he collapses to ur side. refuses to lay in the wet patch. spoiled prince. but he spoils your princess pussy with lots and lots and lots of creampies. and my fucking god he is CRAZED for creampies. loves stuffing u full!! loves seeing your pussy quiver when his cockhead pops out and ur hole spits cum out. he watches it dribble down your slit like its a wildlife documentary. makes stupid jokes during sex so u break down giggling in the middle, he slows and stills inside and laughs with you, feeling his dick throb, apologetically kissing u and thennnnnn he snaps u out of those giggles by shoving his cock up into ur guts n pounding away... grunting and gripping ur hips which are really truly his most favorite thing in the world. he goes harder bc he sees ur body jiggling under his imposing frame. such a big boy with a stupidly big dick to match. yk!! big cock for a cocky boy!! and he knows how to use it, which makes him so lethal in bed; he can make those legs shake then go numb and laugh abt it... "oh ur so fuckin' weak baby, yeah? too fuckin' weak to take this dick? aw my pretty little princess... she can't even take daddy's dick..." n he just fucks u deeper into the mattress while u weep n sob into the pillow, too full of pleasure to think. too full of his dick to think :( he has genuinely broken ur bed... MULTIPLE. TIMES. and he doesn't apologize for it because he doesn't think he's at fault. no it's not his animalistic thrusts when he's reaching balls deep inside u that's the problem... it's just a cheap bed that can't support him!! blame the bed!! "oh... lol i think u need a new bed... 🤭" he thinks its sooo funny that ur bed cant take his pounding and yet ur pussy happily takes the abuse. "wow... i broke ur pussy and ur bed in one night!! :) i deserve a medal."
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emmyrosee · 5 months
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Geto doesn’t know how to respond to pet names.
It took him a long enough time to become used to the traditional “baby” and “love,” it was just recently when you started busting out these absurd nicknames for whatever thing you could be subjecting him too.
You were cooking once, and you called him “scnhookums” and asked him to pass the peppers. He dropped the tray.
Driving, you told your “stinky man” to take a left. He slammed on his brakes.
You’d been painting his nails and got some on his cuticle, and you asked your “little poop” to pass you some acetone. He just took his hands away.
It’s not that he doesn’t… like them, they’re just not quite what he expects. They’re so extreme, so left field that in a way, he feels as if you’re mocking him, making fun of him.
He doesn’t like that feeling.
But what he hates even more, is when you pause on giving him disgustingly sweet pet names. This, makes him feel like you no longer care, no longer wanting to take the time to come up with the gushy names that keep him in a shy state.
And you haven’t given him one in days.
He hasn’t been able to sleep. Nothing major, nightmares plaguing the dreams he thinks should be pleasant, 
“Shhh,” you soothe. “Stay asleep. I’ve got you.”
He merely nods and lets his head bury back into the pillows, your lips press against his temple before he lets his breathing even out once again.
As if your kiss soothed the monsters that dance, he’s able to sleep a few more hours, waking up disgustingly late and pouting to find your side of the bed cold.
He’s not proud of the pout okay, you’re just really good at scratching the affectionate itch that digs his brain. all he wants is his ‘pooky bear’ to cuddle their little ‘chickadee’ and let him fall back asleep in their arms.
He’s sure those names aren’t far in your arsenal of names.
When he finally does come to search you out, he’s not completely surprised to see you, stretched out on the couch and in a state of relaxation he finds envy in.
“What’re you watching?” He asks, shuffling into the living room. You smile up at him and say nothing, but instead pat your lap as an invitation for him to come and curl against you.
With a nod, he does just that, letting himself lay down on the couch with you, his head nestled in your thighs. Your fingers instantly start their magic on carding his loose hair, and his eyes slack slightly at the tingly feeling.
“Feel better?” You ask, and he hums contently. “I told you more sleep would help. You just never listen to me.”
He says nothing, merely letting his fingers gently trace the lines on your kneecap.
There’s a whirl of silence in the room, and he feels his eyes grow tired from your loving touch, the post warmth of his shower, and the cat that’s curled on his feet, keeping them warm under her rhythmic breathing.
“My handsome man,” you mumble, bending down to plant a kiss at his temple. his eyes widen as he cranes his head up to look at you, curved in surprise and a glimmer of love in his dark pools. “So pretty it hurts… my handsome, pretty man.”
That. That, he could get used to.
He smiles dopily and turns his head to nuzzle into your thigh, trying to hide the heating of his cheeks from you and your potential teasing by keeping his face buried.
But you don’t pick on him. Instead, you click your tongue adoringly and press another kiss to his temple. He feels your nose taking deep breaths of his scent, and your thumb strokes his cheek lovingly.
“Shut up”, Suguru says happily, as an acceptance, letting his sleepy eyes close and allowing your affections to swallow him whole.
Yes, he thinks to himself. It’s the fluttery feeling everyone talks about. The air filling his lungs and his head skipping beats just by the tone of which you call him handsome.
You call him your man.
Maybe pet names don’t always have to be sticky and sweet; but it just makes the most meaningful ones penetrate his heart that much more.
And this pet name, he hopes you decide to keep.
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