Hey everyone! I finally got around to making a masterlist! Thank you to @nightfallrevel , @ohmycolie , @wootato , @seigesinbin , and everyone else who helped me make this mess!
Here are my rules for writing requests!
The list is divided into fandoms, characters, then ships.
All fics under the individual characters are X Reader unless otherwise stated, ships are separated below.
My Kinktober fics are linked below.
Warnings are listed on each non or dub con fic, Nsfw fics will be tagged in red bold text (Like this)
If you have any questions feel free to send me an ask!
Headcanons
Bnha boys x Gn!Reader fired
Aizawa Shouta
See You Again
Bakugou Katsuki
Alpha X Omega (Abandoned, will rewrite) | Parts: 1, 2, 3
Chubby s/o Comfort Request
Along Came A Dragon
Gang Orca (Sakamata Kugo)
Lovestruck in Summer
Something In The Way You Move (Noncon)
Kirishima Eijirou
Hybrid Hijinks Pt 1
Stay Out of The Water (Noncon) | Parts: 1, 2
Shark Bite (nsfw)
Midoriya Izuku
Bunnies Are A Person's Best Friend
Head Over Heels
Sero Hanta
A Pro Hero’s Princess (Dubcon)
Jealous Sero Request
Shinsou Hitoshi
Overstim x reader drabble
Todoroki Shouto
Chubby s/o Comfort Request
A Curious Cat (Hybrid Hijinks 2)
Ships
BakuDeku
Katsuki Bakugou Always Wins (Dubcon)
EraserMic
Unnamed Villain Au
Three's Company
Brumation Persuasion
IidaKamiSero
A Night To Remember
KiriBaku
Dinner Surprise
ShinKami
Denki's Christmas Cheer
The Best Part of Waking Up
TodoBaku
ABO TodoBaku | Parts: 1, 2
Bakugou Katsuki is Touch Starved
Happy White Day
Hurt Me (Noncon)
Non-fandom
Princess
Kinktober 2020
Headcanons
Dominant boys hcs
Tsukishima Kei
Hard dom spanking drabble
Oikawa Tooru
Throat Exercise, Brat Edition
YuuriXYurio
Bodies Intertwined
Loki
Machinations of a God (Dubcon) | Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4
I know how everything looks right now. It's scary, and it's a lot, with all the information that seems to be coming out every day at this point. It's very overwhelming, I know. I'm giving a huge shoutout to @cairoblair and her updates for keeping me from crashing out on the daily at this point lol
But just remember to take a break. You can't fight for our puppy boy to come home if you're burnt out and anxious all the time. Take a walk, get some fresh air, get a snack, something. Don't give this all your energy, or else you'll have nothing else to give.
So use this post as a bit of a doomscrolling checkpoint, I guess. Leave a comment, tell me your favorite thing about LADS, your MC, your favorite card with your main, whatever. Or just about something you did recently that made you happy! Personally, I went shopping today and got a new water bottle! It has a baby blue and cream gingham pattern with blueberries on it, and I can't wait to use it :D
(You can message me too, or send an ask. I'm always willing to chat 😌)
So yeah, just remember to take care of yourselves! Love y'all <3 <3
enjin’s so fucking obsessed with fucking you full. — cw ; multiple rounds, dirty talk, breeding kink, masked sex, very very mild dubcon, enjin being enjin, MATING PRESS GANG
enjin had you bent over the edge of the couch in his private rooms. one tattooed arm wrapped around your waist, the other gripping your hip so tight you’d be for sure wearing the bruise of his hand for days. the radio blared quietly in the background - not that you could focus on anything coming from it. not even earlier when you pretended to hang out and listen until his lips found yours.
everything spiraled from there, and here you were now.
“fuck,” he groaned against your shoulder, his voice thick with want, “you don’t even know what you do to me, baby. the second you walked in wearing that little outfit? i knew i wasn’t gonna let you leave without filling you up.”
his words were filth wrapped in adoration. his hips slammed into yours from behind, the wet sound of your bodies colliding echoing in the dark room, rhythmic and obscene. he was so deep it made you dizzy. his cock dragged over every sensitive spot, every thrust claiming you, making you tremble.
“enjin,” you whined, gasping when he hit that perfect angle again. “too much—”
“too much?” he rasped darkly, breath ragged. “no baby. thats barely enough. gotta make sure it takes.”
he pulled out and groaned at the sight of your creamy cunt. a few times he slapped his swollen tip against your entrance, smearing his precum up and down your slit. then he slid back in so torturously slow that you could feel every inch and vein.
“y’know i think about it all the time,” he murmured against your spine. “how pretty you’d look knocked up. stuffed full of me. round with my baby. fuck.”
your moan was broken and high pitched when he shifted you. a moment later you were on your back, legs thrown over his shoulder, and his weight pressed you deeply into the cushions of the couch.
the mating press - his favorite.
yours too, because he always got so deep like this. his thick cock bullied your cunt like it belonged there. he was carving a home in you, and it turned you on. so fucking much.
“this is where you’re meant to be,” he said against your mouth shakingly. “under me like this, letting me fuck you full. you’re gonna take all of it, okay? gonna let me make you mine.”
“yes enjin. yours. mmm. you’re mine too,” you nodded, dazed and breathless.
your eyes rolled back as he pounded into you. his pace was so brutal and desperate at the same time. he was losing control. so close, you could feel it in the way his thrusts started to falter.
“gonna cum,” he warned. “where do you want it?”
“inside,” you whimpered. “please, please inside—”
that was all it took.
he growled your name and slammed into you with one final thrust. his cock twitched hard, throbbed, as he spilled deep inside your quivering cunt. warm wetness bloomed where you were already stretched and stuffed.
enjin didn’t stop moving. even while orgasming he rutted into you, grinding it in while his big hands kept your hips pinned down.
“just like that,” he whispered hoarsely. “fuck, take it. take all of it. gonna give you everything, baby. gonna keep going until you’re full.”
when he finally let your legs down he didn’t pull out right away. he kept himself buried inside you, chest to chest, golden eyes soft but still blown with lingering lust. you felt so safe there, wrapped up in his arms, flushed and fucked out and owned.
“you okay?” he asked, brushing sweaty hair from your face.
“yeah,” you whispered, “but i don’t think i can walk.”
he chuckled and kissed your forehead. “that’s fine. i wasn’t planning on letting you get up anyway. not until i’m sure you’re bred.”
you let out a giggle as he lifted you up. legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he carried you to his bed where you fell asleep, with you warming his cock the whole night.
or, so you thought.
your thighs were shaking as you slid out from beneath him in bed. the sheets were damp, your body slick with sweat and your inner thighs coated with the sticky mess he’d left in you. you winced as your core clenched involuntarily, still tender and full. you needed to pee. needed to clean up. every step to the bathroom left a drip down your thigh and all you could think was how much he’d given you. he always came a lot, but this time had been something else.
lately he had been more possessive than usual.
the rooms were dark and silent as you got to the bathroom. you didn’t bother with the light as you shuffled over to the toilet, but before you could sit down —
a presence.
you froze, an involuntarily scream tore from you. followed by an arm that snatched around your waist from behind, a hand covering your mouth before the sound could leave your throat. your wide eyes locked on the reflection in the mirror.
enjin stood behind you - tall, bare-chested - and wearing his fucking mask.
“‘jin—what the fuck—” came out muffled behind his palm.
“where do you think you’re going?” he growled in your ear, voice distorted and low beneath the mask. “you think i fucked you full just to let it leak out in the toilet?”
he bent you over the sink before you could answer. his hand yanked your hips back and you felt him already hard again, hot and angry against your ass.
“no. wait, please—” you gasped.
he shoved back inside you in one brutal thrust. you choked on the intrusion, nails scraping the edge of the porcelain sink as your eyes rolled. he didn’t give you time to adjust. just started slamming into you, his hips pistoning like a man possessed.
“you’re gonna hold it,” he hissed through the mask. “gonna keep it. i worked too damn hard filling you up, baby. you’re not wasting a drop.”
your mouth fell open, drool slipping down your chin as the pain-mixed-pleasure washed over you. his rhythm was cruel, merciless with sharp snaps of his hips that hit deep. his grip bruising your hips, fucking into you so hard the mirror rattled. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small bathroom, vulgar and raw. you could barely stand it.
“i love seeing you like this,” he hissed. “trying so hard to stay quiet while i ruin you. you scream, you wake the other cleaners.”
your legs buckled. your body shook. and when you came, it was messy and feral and devastating. you moaned behind his hand. no, you were crying, overstimulated and helpless. your pussy clenched around him as he kept fucking you through it. he groaned, hips stuttering, and you felt it again. hot spurts deep inside, mixing with the first load, making a mess of your insides all over again.
he didn’t let go until you were trembling and limp in his arms, forehead pressed to the mirror, mascara smudged, lips bitten red.
“you’re not cleaning up,” he whispered darkly, removing his mask just enough to kiss your shoulder. “you’re going back to bed like this. plugged up. dripping full. mine.”
he carried you there like you were breakable glass, even though five minutes ago, he nearly shattered you against that sink. you were absolutely boneless, babbling nonsense as he tugged you back in and made sure you didn’t leave the bed again.
the next morning you wake up to the smell of breakfast. you hear plates clinking and the soft hum of enjin whistling some random melody.
you shifted in bed, sore between your thighs and your body aching in that deeply satisfying way. but you also felt the tinge of overuse, the dull throb that told you last night’s bathroom session hadn’t exactly been…gentle. it had been hot. so fucking hot. but now?
“babe?” came a soft voice from the doorway.
you turned your head and there he was. shirtless, hair a fluffy, chaotic mess, carrying a tray with some bread, chocolate cream and two mugs of coffee. his eyes met yours and immediately dropped.
“oh fuck,” he mumbled. “you’re limping, aren’t ya?”
you laughed. “only a little.”
he looked wrecked. not in the sexy, post-sex way, but in the i’ve been pacing the hallways thinking about how hard i railed you while wearing a mask way.
“i’m so sorry,” he said, walking over and setting the tray on the nightstand. “i didn’t mean to get so rough. i saw you leaving the bed, and i… i just snapped. you were leaking and i thought—fuck, i just got this thing in my head and i didn’t stop to ask if—”
you silenced him with a kiss. “it’s okay, enjin,” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his. “you were hot. a little crazy, but hot. i liked it.”
he let out a relieved sigh and kissed your knuckles. “i just wanted to take care of you this morning. thought i’d make breakfast, rub your legs, maybe beg for forgiveness if you were still mad…”
you grinned, slowly sliding the sheet down your body, revealing the curve of your hips, bare and inviting. his eyes locked onto your skin like it owed him money.
“well,” you murmured sweetly, “since you’re already being such a good boyfriend…”
he blinked at you.
“hey, babe?”
his breath hitched. “yeah?”
you leaned in closer, brushing your lips along his jaw. “three times is the charm.”
his brain short-circuited. you didn’t have to ask again. he set the tray aside, climbed onto the bed and hovered above you. his expression a soft mixture of reverence and hunger. this wasn’t the man from last night. this was your enjin, all warm, sweet, heart pounding with love and cock already hard between your thighs.
he guided himself to your entrance and slid in slowly while he kissed your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. your leg curled around his waist, the other over his shoulder. the mating press wasn’t brutal this time. it was tender and deep. his body pressed you down into the mattress, hips rolling with slow, reverent purpose.
“still full of me,” he whispered, watching your face as he moved. “but i wanna give you more. want you to feel how much i love you.”
you whimpered. one arm wrapped around his neck, lips meeting his again and again. his pace never quickened. he gave you long, dragging strokes that had your toes curling and your heart clenching. he kissed your tears when they came, overwhelmed and overstimulated in the best way. his praise was quiet and endless.
“you’re perfect.”
“you take me so well.”
“this is where you belong. right here. with me.”
when he came, it was with a shaky moan and a broken “i love you,” and you felt it pulse deep inside - warm and full, just like his heart.
he didn’t move for a long time. he just held you, buried in you, murmuring promises into your skin.
and later, when he finally pulled out and brought you your now-cold breakfast, he fed you bites by hand, grinning when you moaned for syrup like it was foreplay. you were still sore. still dripping. still his. but damn if the third time wasn’t the charm.
content warning: kidnapping, held captive against your will, caleb is a decietful liar and manipulator with a complex, you don’t know how to feel about it all, smut + i'm not sure if this can be considered dubcon but i'm still going to list it just in case so please proceed with caution. you are responsible for the media you consume! + i did proofread but not to the fullest extent sooo...
kidnapper!caleb who took you without remorse. he was patient in his execution, taking advantage of his well-earned title as your best friend to inhabit your home over the last few days with the poor excuse of “missing his favorite person” in tow when you’d undoubtedly question his unusual sudden boost in clinginess.
and his plan to take you wasn’t something spontaneous, rather a long and detailed plan that had several contingencies in place if needed and one happy ending that he intended to reach. despite his eagerness, he had to be careful. he only had one chance at carrying everything out successfully, and he’d be damned if he wasted it.
so while it hurt him to watch the understandable terror and tinge of betrayal that flashed briefly in your eyes when they locked with his as he placed that cloth over your mouth and nose on what you believed to be his final night over, he was certain that the plans he had in store for your future together would outweigh everything you may think when you see him again.
kidnapper!caleb didn’t have a special or an unearthly reason for why he decided to take you for himself. truly he didn’t. honestly, it was a rather simple and levelheaded conclusion if anyone were to ask him.
it was because he could, because he wanted to. and because he knew that he deserved to have you.
he didn’t want to share you with the world anymore—with your friends, your family, or even your coworkers who’d seem to have access to you more than he did at times. in fact, he had grown quite fucking sick of doing so and was proud of himself for remaining as disciplined as he’d been underneath all the frustration.
being forced to experience being put on the back burner as you tried your hardest to split your time amongst all the people who seemingly love you and seeing you make space for their selfish needs wasn’t fair.
how could they ever be more important to you than him? because he loved you the most out of all, why couldn't you see that? if you did, why was he the one given the scraps? he’d rather be a dead man than ever consider anyone loving you more than he does.
no longer would he allow you to brush off his words like you’d always do when he told you that he wished he could take you away from it all. he’d never let you downplay or dismiss his true feelings anymore with your condescending ‘awww’s and distracting pet names. instead, he’d make you see.
kidnapper!caleb never wants to make you feel like a prisoner when he brings you to what he’s created for your semi-permanent stay.
yes, it’s true that he wouldn’t let you leave the space he single-handedly created for the two of you with meticulous intent. and yes, he’d be the only one giving you all your wants and necessities without any contact from the outside world. in time, he'd be open to discussions for that to change.
but despite being the one with all the power, he was under your control.
he made that clear the moment you opened your pretty eyes and registered your new reality. seeing how you cursed at him as you thrashed on the bed against your restraints and how you brazenly demanded answers behind barely shed tears was enough to make his dick twitch in his pants. right then he wanted you to have him, to jump up and do whatever you wanted to do if it made you feel good.
“i’ve waited… so long… to have you like this,” he whispered with a disturbing tone that was still laced with twisted love and awe. your jaw and body tensed as he used his fingers to carefully trace your cheekbone and the outline of the defiant pout on your lips. he didn’t like that, but he understood. love always had its ups and downs. “you’re not scared of me, right pipsqueak? 'cause you shouldn’t be. i did this for us. i promised i would, don’t you remember?”
his smile barely reached his eyes as he watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest. while you lay helplessly on an unfamiliar bed that you couldn’t deny the comfort of with hazy confusion, all caleb wanted to do was suckle on your nipples and bury himself inside you until there was no more space in between.
soon. he knew you’d let him soon.
you never let your gaze deter from his movements as he reached for the thick chains around your wrists and ankles keeping you shackled to the bed, unlocking and unraveling them and leaning down until the tips of your noses barely touch. it was bold of him, to remain so close with you being freed. perhaps it was that sickening confidence.
“we have to trust each other, right? it’s a two-way street.” how could this still be your caleb? the one who vowed to protect you. the one who swore he’d do anything to make you happy. “but don’t forget who i am or what i’m capable of, pips. you of all people should know that i work hard to get what i want and i’ll go even harder to keep it.”
kidnapper!caleb is an excellent liar and an even better actor. while he keeps you on lockdown in a discreet location that's miles upon miles away and is something only he knows of and has access to, he’s out there with the people in your life who are desperately searching for you while convincing them that he’s just as distraught and at a loss.
he had the perfect alibis in place despite being the only person to have seen you last and even knew how to make his voice hoarse and crack at just the right times when he was brought in for questioning. with fake smiles and words of encouragement, he’d console your parents and delirious friends as he falsely promised to do everything he could to bring you home to them.
there was never a day that he missed as he aided in their useless search. he was there when everyone got together for an orchestrated community search, hating to leave you alone at night to attend but couldn’t help but to test the daring waters over and over again.
the fake tears and blatant lying were almost addicting. orchestrating it all while being the cause was a high he’d ride until they finally let you go. they had no choice but to.
kidnapper!caleb loved getting to watch you drop your guard and succumb to him in real time. it wasn’t just because it’s always been what he’s wanted, but because it was all being done by your somewhat free will, although you continuously swore you’d never be what he wanted.
but he knew you, better than you knew yourself. you may be the one capable of moving the chess pieces, but it was still and would always be his game.
days turned to weeks and weeks trickled slowly into months before you began to mindlessly initiate conversations as if under normal circumstances, before you’d ask him for things on your own accord or to stay with you and watch movies instead of sitting and watching you do your own thing from afar.
what was once fear and anger became comfort, familiarity, and an odd sense of longing.
perhaps it began when you would notice how he’d restrain from touching you the way he so clearly wanted to and used his eyes to do what he didn’t let his hands.
maybe it was from all the nights where he’d curl up in that big bed beside you despite your protests and hold you close with his cock nestled against your ass through thin articles of clothing. or when he’d take your dirty clothes and shamelessly sniff your panties in front of you before tucking one into his pocket and washing the rest.
regardless of what it is, you couldn’t explain why you never fought back. or why your panties we’re always left damp whenever he’d do things like lightly caressing your inner thigh the way he was now as he sat beside you and watched the news.
or why you don’t stop him when he let his hands go further than usual until his fingers find their way inside your shorts.
kidnapper!caleb knows that he won’t be able to savor you like he thought he would the first time he got to feel you. he figured he’d slowly rub your clit until your world shattered and you came on his fingers as he slipped one or two inside you to see what it felt like when your cunt got greedy.
he thought maybe he’d be okay with just playing with your pussy and feeling your slick make a mess on the hand of the man you vowed to hate for the rest of your life since your first day in your new normal.
but then you reached over, almost as if in a trance fueled by uncontrollable lust, and palmed his cock through his sweats with bated breath and sorrowful eyes that seemingly begged for him to stop you before it went too far.
if caleb were a selfless man, you wouldn’t be here.
instead, he guided you to stand in front of him on trembling legs and looked up at you with violet pools brimming with pride. he pressed a kiss to your stomach and brought you closer with his palms engrossing themselves in the plush softness of your outer thighs.
“take them off,” he said lowly in a way both demanding and pleading, tugging on the bottom end of your shorts. naturally, you hesitated, your features telling him every single emotion that takes over your mind where your mouth is incapable. “don’t act like you don’t want it. i’ve let you get away with lyin’ to me for all this time. i think i’ve more than earned this, wouldn’t you say?”
kidnapper!caleb makes you take the lead when you finally settle yourself in his lap. from releasing his dick from its confines, positioning him at your embarrassingly soaked hole, and burying your face in his neck as your pussy swallowed each girthy inch, immediately you knew that you’d made a terrible mistake.
but you just couldn’t stop yourself. it's like you could feel him in your guts, could feel every pulsing vein kissing your tightening walls. the sensation of being so full of your once best friend turned captor was sickeningly intense and yet, you couldn’t—no, you didn’t want it to be taken away.
you couldn’t look him in the eyes as you used his body like he told you to do in between shaky mewls, tears spilling from both inebriating pleasure and unbridled anger at yourself for the uncontrolled moans that spilled when he guided your sloppy movements by your hips from being so emotional and conflicted.
“you feel how well we fit?” he coos in your ear as you rock your hips to feel him reach even deeper. he slides in and out of you with so much ease that it makes your stomach flip and your body ache for so much more. it makes you disappointed in yourself for being so willing. “i would—hah, fuck—say sorry, for letting it go this far, pips… but ‘m not. and i’ll never be. i just hope you’ll learn to love me the same way i love you. i’ll still love you… even if you don’t.”
“i h-hate you,” you mumble through your uncontainable moans, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck to hold him closer as the burning in your thighs drive you to chase your high even faster. “you took everyone—everything, away f-from me… you ruined my life, caleb… i hate you s-so much…”
“if you weren’t such a liar…” he nips and licks beneath your ear, never interrupting the fluidity of his thrusts that force a sensational tingle down your spine. “that would’ve reaaally hurt me.”
you refused to acknowledge the somewhat truth in his statement. absolutely refused.
the rush of his cum suddenly spilling into you and your orgasm knocking the breath from your lungs claims your attention instead. caleb pumps it all inside of you, leaving a sticky mess that leaks from being overfilled and clings filthily to where you remain connected.
“… search still ongoing for the sudden disappearance of a local woman. if you have any information, please contact your local law enforcement or the hotline displayed on your screen. for more details….”
“oh look,” caleb hums, sitting you up and grabbing you gently by the underside of your jaw to make you face the tv. “that’s the picture i told your mom to use. pretty, isn’t it? ‘s one of my favorites.”
you really were stuck with him. and you hated yourself for not knowing if you despised the idea as much as you know you should.
a/n: if you hate this or think it's utter ass like i do, LITERALLYYYY DON'T TELL ME!!!!!
olderbf!nanami who never rushes you, no matter how impatient you get. you’re standing in front of your closet, frustrated, pulling out dresses and tossing them onto the bed.
"i have nothing to wear," you groan. he’s sitting in the armchair by the window, his tie already loosened, watching you with that calm, steady gaze.
"we have forty-five minutes," he says, his voice low and even. "take your time."
you huff, turning to face him. "you’re always so patient. it’s annoying."
he smiles, small and fond. "i’ve waited forty years to find you. i can wait forty-five minutes for you to pick a dress."
olderbf!nanami who always makes sure you eat before you leave the house. you’re running late, your heels clicking on the kitchen floor as you grab your purse.
"we’re going to be late," you say, already halfway to the door.
he steps in front of you, a plate in his hand—toast with avocado, a soft-boiled egg, sliced fruit arranged neatly. "eat first."
you stare at him. "nanami, we don’t have time—"
"we have time," he interrupts gently, setting the plate on the counter. "you’re not leaving this house on an empty stomach. sit."
you sit. you always do. because when he looks at you like that—like taking care of you is the most important thing in the world—you can’t say no.
olderbf!nanami who never raises his voice, even when you’re being difficult. you’re arguing about something stupid—where to go for dinner, maybe, or whether you should cancel plans to stay in—and your voice is getting louder, your hands gesturing wildly.
he just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you. "you’re not even listening!" you snap.
"i am," he says quietly. "i’m listening to every word. and when you’re done, we’ll talk about it calmly. like adults."
you deflate, your anger fizzling out. "you’re too kind to me," you mutter.
he steps forward, his hands finding your waist. "you’re worth the kindness."
olderbf!nanami who takes his time undressing you, like every layer is a gift he’s unwrapping. you’re in his bedroom, the lights dimmed, and you’re already reaching for his belt, impatient, wanting him now.
"slow down," he murmurs, catching your hands. "we have all night."
you pout. "i don’t want to wait."
he leans down, his lips brushing your ear. "i know, baby. i know. but i’m going to make you wait. because the longer i take, the better it’ll feel when i finally touch you." he undresses you slowly, his fingers working each button, each zipper, until you’re standing in front of him in nothing but your underwear. he steps back, his eyes raking over you. "beautiful," he says. "now lay down."
olderbf!nanami who eats you out like it’s a meditation, like he could spend hours between your thighs and never get bored. you’re on your back, your legs over his shoulders, and he’s taking his time, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes.
"n-nanami—please—" you gasp, your hands fisting the sheets. he looks up at you, his mouth glistening.
"patience," he says, his voice calm even as he slides two fingers inside you. "i’m going to make you cum. but i’m going to do it my way." he curls his fingers, finding that spot that makes your vision blur, his tongue circling your clit with agonizing precision.
you’re moaning, your hips rolling, but he holds you down with one hand on your stomach. "stay still," he orders gently. "let me take care of you."
olderbf!nanami who fucks you slow and deep, his hips rolling in a rhythm that has you seeing stars. you’re on your stomach, your face pressed into the pillow, and he’s behind you, his chest pressed to your back, his cock buried so deep you can barely breathe.
"nanami—h-harder!!—" you beg, trying to push back against him. he stills, his hand sliding up your spine to grip the back of your neck.
"no," he says, his voice firm but kind. "you take what i give you." he starts moving again, each thrust deliberate, each roll of his hips dragging against your walls in a way that makes you sob. "you feel that?" he murmurs against your ear. "that’s me. all of me. and you’re going to take every inch, just like this. until you can’t think about anything but how full you are."
olderbf!nanami who makes you ask for what you want, his voice low and commanding. you’re straddling him, his cock inside you, but he’s not moving.
he’s just watching you, his hands on your hips, his thumbs stroking your skin.
"p-please, i.... i can't—" you whimper, trying to roll your hips. he holds you still.
"use your words," he says. "tell me what you want."
"i-i want you to move," you gasp. "i want you to fuck me."
he smiles, small and satisfied. "good girl. now ask nicely."
you bite your lip, your face burning.
"please fuck me, nanami. please."
he rewards you with a slow thrust upward, his cock hitting that spot inside you that makes you moan. "that’s it," he praises. "that's my girl."
olderbf!nanami who holds you after, his arms wrapped around you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. you’re lying on his chest, your body still trembling, your mind fuzzy with pleasure.
he’s stroking your hair, his lips pressed to the top of your head. "you did so well," he murmurs. "so beautiful. so perfect." you nuzzle closer, your eyes already drifting shut.
"you’re too good to me," you whisper. he kisses your forehead.
"no such thing. you deserve everything. and i’m going to give it to you for as long as you’ll let me."
olderbf!nanami who wakes you up in the morning with his mouth between your legs, because he’s not done taking care of you yet. you’re half-asleep, your body warm and heavy, when you feel his hands on your thighs, spreading you open.
"nanami—" you start, but then his tongue is on you, and you’re gasping, your hands flying to his hair. he looks up at you, his eyes dark.
"good morning," he says, his voice rough with sleep. "lay back. let me love you." and you do. because when nanami wants to be patient, you let him. every single time.
Captain John price who feels a little insecure with his much younger girlfriend. It’s been so long since he’s been intimate with anyone and perhaps he didn’t have the same amount of “spring” as the younger folk.
So he goes to his most trusted lieutenant, asking for help.
That’s how ghost ends up holding your back against his chest while your boyfriend John is settled in between your legs.
“Look, see that Captain?” Ghosts fingers barely brush your clit, pulling the hood back. “You’re gonna need to show this part some extra love. Kiss it, suck it, lick it, hell, even spit on it.”
Price stares at your pussy with infatuation, drooling at the sight of you being so shy in his best man’s arms. He can feel your legs trembling as they drape over his shoulders.
You immediately let out a soft gasp as prices lips tenderly suck your aching clit.
Now price is a quick learner, and it doesn’t take him long to find just what makes you tick- you make it so easy with your adorable reactions after all.
You’re squirming, panting, whining- “shh shhh shhh,” muses ghost from behind, muscular arms holding you back. “Don’t make it harder for the man.”
He sets you straight with a decent slap to your right tit. You yelp, earning a low chuckle from the man. “Sorry, doll. Force of habit.”
Ghosts eyes trail down your body to where his captain is vigorously working his mouth like a starved man. “Doing well, sir. She’s ‘boutta cum.”
Prices tongue does a lovely flick over your clit before engulfing it whole again in his warm mouth. You can’t help yourself as you desperately roll your hips over his chin and beard, increasing the friction.
Ghost holds you tighter against him, hands resting on the underside of your chest as he whispers something only you can hear. “Cmon, baby. Cum for the captain why don’t ya? And after, we can get to the main event.”
You’re so caught up in the growing knot in your stomach that you miss the way ghost rolls his stiff dick into the curve of your ass from behind. “I like to lead by example y’know.”
Just thinking about Simon’s wife, who’s been sexually abused. So whenever things get heated between them, she freezes or fawns because of her trauma.
Simon knows how the world is towards women. He knows how he appears, big and threatening even though he’d never harm an innocent person. He’d especially never lay a hand on or so much as yell at his wife.
But trauma is trauma, and she still can’t get over the memories or the emotions that come with it. It clings to her like a leech latching onto skin and ripping blood out.
She froze when he said it. He’d said it so easily, without a hint of gestation or resentment. For a few moments, she was stunned into silence. She studied his face, and she trembled slightly. Was this okay?! She felt evil for even needing— but Simon repeated himself. His voice was a gentle rumble, and his eyes were so tender. “Tie me up, love. If that’s what it takes to make you feel safe.”
And he offered his hands up like a vow.
"shh, gege's here," he whispers into your neck as you stare at your shared reflection. he did this often: holding you down on his cock in front of a mirror and forcing you to look at where he disappeared inside you.
this was as close as you could be, he'd remind you. if it were possible to be any closer, he would do it. "look at gege inside you," he mutters. "don't stop looking."
he's quieter than usual; restrained. usually he'd be standing, letting your skin slap together as he fucked up into you. but this time was different.
you were trying on a few pretty things for him, frilly pyjama sets and lacy garters to match. he stood behind you in the small change room, a towering figure watching you in the mirror as you slipped each piece on and off your body carefully. you saw the change in his eyes. gentle, patient, loving appreciation slips into something more predatory and possessive.
and you know him as well as he knows you, so you're expecting what happens next. you know how to be quiet when the switch flips and he tugs you against him and tells you he needs to be closer. you suck and bite on his fingers as an aid as he fucks you, eyes re-focusing on where you join each time he notices you drifting.
"know i should wait... gege can't help it," he breathes into your ear. "this is where i belong, hm? right here, buried in your pretty flower." his fingertips ghost over your clit, then glide up to your belly. he presses his palm flat against you, firm. "feels like i should never leave."
he bites into your shoulder, and you bite down on his fingers in return. "wanna keep you strapped to my chest, warm and safe and full of me always..." he drops a kiss over his bite. "doesn't that sound nice?"
the tiniest little hum escapes your throat, muffled by his fingers. "that's why gege's so much bigger," he whispers. "that's the way it's supposed to be... meant to carry you around with my cock buried deep inside you... never apart..." his hips roll, and he presses you back into him a little harder. "want them all to see where i belong... wanna walk out and show them how perfectly we fit... look at it..."
you are looking. you can't stop. it doesn't matter. he repeats it like it's not enough, like he needs the whole world to see how connect together perfectly. "keep looking... look at you opening up for gege... so pretty... look..."
when your stupid ex boyfriend kicks you out of the flat, he forgets to give you your cat back. you find the meanest looking guy in the bar to help you get her back.
type: one-shot (3.4k), ao3
cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, graphic depictions of violence, smut, unprotected piv, cumplay, oral, simon is not a good or nice person (except to reader), reader also maybe isn't a good person who knows, reader has hair long enough to hold, curvy/plus-sized!reader, size difference, size kink, military inaccuracies, 18+
There is a special place in hell for men like Michael.
You can see her through the window by the door. Her big eyes are looking at where you are, paws against the glass. Her mouth opens, and she scratches at the window, and your bottom lip trembles as you set your hand down where she touches.
You could care less about the things you left inside. Your clothes, your bags, your shoes, even your fucking computer can stay behind, but not her. Your tabby cat is inside, sitting by the window, and Michael changed the fucking locks.
You bang on the door for an hour. You leave, come back, keep banging, but no one ever answers. You've never felt this desperate or uneasy, but every time you come back and see her by the window, you nearly lose all of your composure. It isn't fair. She doesn't belong to him. He can take years from you, take your money, take your sanity, but he won't take her. You'll come back every single day. You'll become a nuisance. You'll never let him relax. Until he gives her back to you, he will never know peace.
A single day passes before you decide it's time to take drastic measures.
The nearest military base is situated a good distance away, but not so far that you won't drive to its neighboring city. There's a small main road with a few local shops, including a few restaurants, a bookstore, a coffee shop, and the crown jewel—a pub.
It's just after supper time when you ring the bell above the door walking inside. On a Friday evening, it's lively, packed close with warmth and tall pints and plastic baskets full of chips and greasy fingerfoods.
There's a lot of military around here. You can tell by their haircuts and the way they chug their glasses; but you aren't looking for baby-faced rookies with too much pent-up aggression. You're looking for the meanest guy in the room, and that means someone with scars and someone who goes cloudy behind the eyes when you ask him how he's gotten back from where he's been.
That man is sitting at the far booth with his back to the wall. A place where he can have an eye on the rest of the room at all times. Big, gloved hand wrapped around a sweating glass, gaze focused on the foam of his beer as he pretends to listen to whatever the red-cheeked man across from him is laughing about.
You ask the bartender what they're drinking and order another round, picking up each glass and making your way towards their table. You'd be nervous if you weren't so determined. You stand awkwardly beside the table before his friend notices you there.
"Tha' fer us, bonnie?"
He juts his chin out at the drinks you're holding, and you set them down with a nervous smile.
"Yeah," you look between them. You fixate on the big guy, who barely squints at you over his drink, and you bite your lip. "I was hoping you had room for one more."
His friend cackles, "aye. Always fer a pretty face."
"Cute," you swallow. "But…I wasn't really talking to you."
The bigger one sits up at that. He leans back in the booth, rolling out his shoulders, and you hop up onto the seat next to him. His friend seems to get the message, picking up his new drink and tipping it towards you before taking a long drink of it and going to find a warm spot at the bar.
"Lookin' for advice or a fuck?"
"Neither," you say softly. "You're big, yeah? Are people…generally afraid of you?"
He laughs, and when he wipes at his masked face, you see a glimpse of a tattoo sleeve that adorns his massive left arm.
"Suppose."
"Great. How much for you to be my bodyguard for a few hours?"
He kisses his teeth under the mask, and then he turns his head to look down at you. His eyes are half-lidded, the skin looking a little greasy under the eye-black smudged there, but he's so calm and collected and amused. You've amused him; you're entertaining him. It's the most interesting thing that's happened to him all week, and you hope you're keeping his attention.
"Wot's tha' include?"
"It's gonna be illegal," you mumble, biting your bottom lip. "Just a little bit."
"Tha's my specialty, love."
"Not murder," you clarify, and he just shrugs. "Just…a little breaking and entering. Maybe some intimidation."
"'s Friday night, swee'eart, at least offer me somethin' fun."
"This isn't funny," you suck in a shaky breath. "It's…" You look down at the sticky pub table, swallowing again. You dig your nails into your own legs to keep your composure. "I need to get something back. Something that belongs to me. So it's not really…it's not really stealing."
A pregnant silence falls between you. You fail to keep the tears at your lash line back, and you quickly use the back of your hand to wipe your face gently. You think about your cat scratching for you on the other side of the window. You think about her sweet face; you think about Michael forgetting to feed her in the mornings as he usually did, and how he never changed the water filter in time even when you asked him to.
"'m Simon."
The low timbered voice breaks you out of your inner spiral. You look up at him again, and when you meet his eyes, you're finally able to let out a breath of relief. You don't know why, but there's something extremely soothing about sitting next to him. About being in his vicinity. He's so large and takes up so much space, but it's warm there, and he's not as mean as his outer layer might suggest. He's calm, and the way he presents himself tells you that it is not by luck that he's still sitting beside you.
You tell him your name, and his gloved hand touches under your chin.
"Olright, love. Lead the way."
Every time you have ever come back to this apartment, you have met the closed door with dread. A little fear. You feel none of that; not with the apparition at your back. You knock on the window beside the door, and like always, she appears. She meows on the other side, her eyes wet as she scratches and sniffs. You look over your shoulder at Simon who tilts his head to the side.
"This wot he stole?"
You look back at her on the other side of the window, shrugging.
"No," you say softly. "But it's all that matters."
The jiggling of metal brings your attention back to him. Simon is at the door, a multi-tool in one hand, and he's focused intently on working the doorknob until you hear the sound of a lock turn and then the door opens. The chain on the door jangles just as Simon opens it slightly, and you watch with rapt attention as he sticks his arm inside for just a few seconds, and then he swings the door open wide.
You push past him, reaching for the cat. She meows loudly, coming right to you, and you coo as you bend and pick her up from the floor. Loud purrs and sweet chirps follow as you hug her to your chest. You pet her little head, turning towards the living room. You used to keep her carrier behind the couch, and you find it as you go searching for it, exactly where you left it. You slip her inside and zip it up.
"What the fuck is this?"
You freeze, standing up straight and turning. You're caught, definitely—you knew he must have been home by the fact that the chain was latched, but you tried the nice way. You weren't going to get your cat back by being patient, not anymore.
"I'm just getting her, I'll…I was just leaving."
"Fuck no, you broke into my flat."
"Our flat," you snap back, putting the straps of the carrier over your shoulder. "And I'm leaving."
Michael looks like he's going to take a step towards you, but then he notices the dark shape in the corner of the room. He frowns a little, squinting.
"Who the bloody hell is that?"
You turn just in time to see Simon take a small step forward. The sudden movement seems to terrify Michael; he scrambles backwards into the kitchen counter, making the plates behind him fall off the counter and shatter onto the ground. He nearly trips over himself trying to get distance, and Simon seems to think it's very funny. He laughs, chest heaving, and he looks down at you as he gets closer.
"Flopping like a fuckin' fish, he is, in'he?"
Michael looks around frantically before he finds a pair of prongs. His hand shakes as he holds the pointy end towards Simon, spitting at him.
"Get the fuck out of my flat! T-The both of you!"
Simon's reaction tells you that maybe he has a few wires crossed in his head. He steps forward instead of away, laughing still, and you watch warily as he tilts his head to the side and nods his head towards Michael.
"Go on, then, mate," Simon taunts. "Try it."
Like a fool, Michael obliges. You flinch when Michael swings, but Simon tilts his body at just the right moment to dodge. He smacks Michael's arm, but he tries again—and like playing footie with a child, the weapon is now in Simon's hand, and then oh—
Michael's screaming as it pierces through his open palm.
He bleeds a lot less than you thought he might. Sadly, also, his blood is as red as yours. You thought he might be a little less pathetic at a moment like this. It is a gift, however, to see him bursting into tears as Simon grips the collar of his shirt and leans over him.
"Lot like you like to take things that aren't yers, tha' right?" Simon spits. "Like to punish and intimidate and fuckin' take, even if ya aren't owed."
"Please—please just get out, take her, fuckin' please!"
"Oi, wot's all this?" Simon snorts. "Now yer pissin' where you stand cause it got too real, eh? Got wot was comin' ta you? Reckon it's not like you thought. Reckon you thought she'd come hat in hand, beggin' for wot she deserves, but you wouldn't know good cunt even if it sat on yer face, yeah?"
"Please…"
"Simon—" You try, but he tsks, shaking his head.
"Nah, love, he's gonna learn," Simon murmurs. "Have you learned?"
"Yes," Michael squeaks, and you're not longer staring at the blood dripping on the hardwood, you're oogling at the giant man standing in what once was your kitchen that's starting to look more delicious by the second.
"Good," Simon breathes. "I know where ya lay yer head, mate. Know where ta come back if things aren't quiet on her end. You'd do well to remember tha'."
He releases Michael with a shove; Michael sinks to the floor, hands trembling, and Simon makes his way towards you to put a hand to your back and turn you around towards the front door.
"Need anythin' else?" Simon asks. You're too speechless to say anything, so all you do is shake your head. You clutch the carrier closer; she meows from inside the bag, and Simon nods his head towards outside so that you start moving. The door shuts behind you both, and then you're being led to his truck, ushered into the passenger seat, precious cargo on your lap as you breathe a huge sigh of relief.
The drive is quiet, but a comfortable quiet. You don't realize until a few streets over that you're smiling; a big, sparkling grin that's taking over your face, and when Simon rolls his truck to a stop at a red light, you lean over the center console and give his masked cheek a big, wet kiss of gratitude.
"Got a death wish or somethin'?" Simon turns to look at you, glaring from under the mask. It's so hard to be scared of him. He just put the fear of God into your terrible ex-boyfriend so you could get your precious cat back; he scared him shitless—literally—and he did it looking this good.
"Is that what a kiss gets me?" You ask. You slide your hand down his bicep, swallowing the drool when you feel just how solid and beefy he is under that hoodie. He fills it out too well. He must be so fucking handsome under that mask; there's no way he wears it for anonymity, he must be so hot, he wears it so he doesn't have to swat away all the boys and girls when they usually buzz around him like moths to light—
Maybe death is really this sweet. This good. Your cat is snoozing, safe and sound, in your bedroom with a full belly. The lights are on low; soft orange glows from well-placed lamps, giving the entire living room a warm feeling. There's a man on your couch with his belt unbuckled, mask halfway up his face as he pants because his cock is in your mouth, and he tastes like sweet, sweet victory.
"Ahh—fuck."
You nuzzle your nose up the length. He's so hard; you don't think a man has ever been this hard for you. He's leaking so pretty, dribbles down the length that you catch with the tip of your tongue, forcing him to hiss and spit and bite his knuckles. He keeps his hips still, but his hand around your hip squeezes the flesh there nice and tight, borderline bruising when you suck his tip a little too softly. You lick a stripe around the head before leaning back up towards him, and his hand around your hip curls against the back of your neck as you share a messy, wet kiss.
You twist your wrist, pumping his cock with a gentle glide of your palm, and he grits his teeth between kisses, touching his forehead to yours.
"Oll tha' for a cat, yeah?"
It is true. You did do it for her. But you did it for you, too.
"Not just the cat," you whisper, smoothing your thumb along the tip. He kisses you again, slower this time, and you groan into his mouth as you squeeze your thighs together. "Look at you…"
"Fuck—" Simon grunts, and his other hand finds the base of his cock, squeezing hard, and you giggle as he scrunches his nose. "Don't say shit like tha'."
You can't with his mouth on your cunt. He's laying flat on his back on the couch, legs too long to fit. Boots against your blanket, you'll whine to him about it later, but now both thighs are on either side of his head, and he's slurping with a hot tongue. You cup both sides of his head, dragging your hips, and while normally you'd think twice about dropping your weight on someone like this, the ease at which he hoisted you up his chest tells you Simon's a big, big boy—and he can handle whatever you give him.
"Gonna let me handle things from now on," Simon murmurs. He kisses the inside of your thigh, and you yelp when he smacks one side of your ass. He's waiting for an answer, and you took too long to give one.
"Y-Yeah," you breathe, leaning your head back. You feel yourself dripping between the legs, flooding his mouth, but he curls his tongue all the same. Uses two thumbs now as he hooks his arms around your thighs to pull the wet, sensitive skin back so he can drink what he's owed. He said he takes payment like this, getting his fill; he says he's never really satisfied until there's cum in his mouth and some in your cunt, and he's not gonna leave your flat before becoming familiar with those two, mutually non-exclusive events.
"Yeah, y'r pretty, olright," Simon laughs, but there's no more humor when he bounces you on his cock. Oh, he hurts a little. He told you he might, but then you're really there, knees on either side of him as you clutch onto the meat of his shoulders and hope to God he doesn't let you go. "Told you tha' you'd feel it, didn't I?"
"Yeah," you whisper, cupping that face of his, half-revealed to you, and you rub your thumbs down his scarred cheeks. Gorgeous, even with eyes that dead inside. "'s big."
"Don't—" He snarls, holding down your hips, shaking his head. "Wot did I say about sayin' shit like tha', eh?"
Life has spoiled you. Life is too good. Life is your pet curled up between your pillows and warm beneath the blankets, and life is fucking the sanity out of big, pudgy military men with blood under their fingernails and their breath stuck in their throat. You've rendered Simon to nothing but grunts and sputters. He's focused on keep the rhythm, arms clasped around your middle as he fucks up into you and pants into your neck. You reach for the back of the couch, digging your nails in, and all you can do is cry and take it as he keeps bringing you back down again and again and again.
The kiss you share is starved. You're so hungry, your hand slipping under the mask to cup the back of his head, and he draws your hips down and holds you there as he licks into your mouth and relishes in the pulsing of your cunt. This is what he fights for, maybe.
Not the glory. Not for the good of others. Not for Price and his self-guided moral compass, not for Laswell and her targets, not for revenge, not for blood, not to save the world. It's so he can come back here onto home soil and fuck a gorgeous girl without ever being interrupted by the sound of anything but her.
Her. You. Whatever she is, what you are, what you will eventually be—it manifests itself in the very room he's in, and he's got it between his teeth, and he won't be letting go for anything.
Nothing at all.
He's smoking a cigarette by the open window as she makes tea. He smiles, just barely, with teeth a little yellow when he sees you burn your hand a little as you pour the water into a misshapen mug.
"Olright?" He asks. The mugs shake a little as you bring them back into the room, precarious as you overfilled the mugs. He takes one from you and takes a long sip, flicking the cigarette out as he watches you get settled. You set your mug down on the coffee table, leaning forward to give him that same sweet, wet kiss on his cheek.
"Never better."
Belly full. Eyes bright. You are nothing like the woman that propositioned him just a few hours ago. A monotone, piss-drink evening, and then a scared, desperate girl asking him if he was willing to do something a little off the books.
Fucking finally. The world was just starting to get a little too dull.
It's the middle of the night when he hears the creak of a door. The sound of a little bell. You're laid out on your side, having just fallen asleep. The movie on the telly still plays, but Simon has turned the volume down. The light flickering from the screen is enough that he sees the cat trot into the room, eyes searching for you and seeing the two of you settled there.
She comes over slowly, sniffing the toes of Simon's boots, and then she closes her eyes as she rubs her face against his leg. Low purring, headbutts, and then she's putting a paw to his boot and looking up at him with the same big, wet eyes her mother has. Simon reaches down, scratching under her chin, and then she's curling up on his lap, little head next to yours as he leans back and takes it in. The sight for sore eyes. The thing that makes his medals and his stripes and all the money in the world look worthless—cheap.
"Yeah," Simon takes another sip of his tea. "This'll do."
ꉂ ᵎᵎ cw/tw: 18+, suggestive (?) (idk if that’s the word for it), dubcon elements (both are drunk but denki has better tolerance) dom!sleazy!piercings!tats!denki, sub!ditzy!drunk!fem!afab!reader, reader has two earrings and nothing else, reader has no tattoos, reader is a good amount shorter than denki, light groping, the whispers of corruption kink stirring, the hinting at a dick piercing, themes of possessiveness, vaping, alcohol, didn’t proofread bc i went to go to sleep
ꉂ ᵎᵎ a/n: this is a reblog from my old account. the fic title is named after the song by aretmas because it’s fitting and i like it.
ꉂ ᵎᵎ synopsis: discussing and counting the tattoos and piercings of the guy you’d been talking to all night at a party.
ꉂ ᵎᵎ w/c: ~1k
“which hurt more? your tattoos or your piercings?”
“definitely the tattoos,” denki laughs, eyes tracing lazily along the curves of your body. he liked girls like you— the ones that got a little giggly, touchy— dumb when they got drunk. it gave him a high unlike any other and was probably one of his favorite things these sorts of parties tended to produce. “why? you wanna see some?”
“could i?” you ask, anticipation sparkling in your eye.
he smiles, the sight warm and inviting. “of course.”
carefully balancing his red solo cup and geek bar in his free hand, he rolls up his long sleeve, fully revealing the design that had peeked out from his wrist and trailed all the way up to his shoulder. your fingers gingerly reach out to drift along the ink, the warmth of his skin beneath seeping into you, stoking the pooling heat in your core.
you look up at him through your lashes, giving him a wondering smile. “and your other arm is covered too?”
“yep,” he answers easily, leaning back against the kitchen counter as he tugs his sleeve back down. “and then i have one on my upper back and then two on my ribs.”
“so,” you blink, trying to do the mental math, “you have four tattoos?”
a chuckle escapes him at your miscount. “five, sweetheart.”
“oh,” you murmur, eyes half-lidded as he hands you his drink, encouraging you to steal another sip, a pattern you two had somehow fallen into over the course of the night. “do you want more?”
denki takes a hit of his vape, blowing the vapor to the side so it doesn’t reach your face. “hm, maybe,” he shrugs. “i don’t wanna get too tatted up. probably something like, on my spine, and then maybe one on my chest.” his hand rests on his left pec, demonstrating to you where he means. “what about you?” he asks curiously, already having a good guess of the answer. “you got any tattoos?”
you shake your head, self-consciousness threatening to creep up your neck. “no,” you mumble. “...do you like girls with tattoos?”
he makes sure to take note of your desire for his approval, smiling softly as he runs a hand through his hair. “i like girls with and without tattoos,” he answers noncommittally, letting a pause hang between you as he considers his next words. “would you ever get any?”
you shrug, a little giggly as a fellow partygoer squeezes behind you, bumping you closer to him. “i don’t know,” you hum, finishing the last of your shared alcohol. “what do you think would look good on me?”
a small puff of air slips out from his nose as your question sparks a private thought— and he finds himself caught between telling you or keeping it to himself. “the sort of thing i like on a girl isn’t for everyone,” he murmurs.
your head tilts, interested. “what is it?”
he chuckles, shaking his head at himself, and takes the empty plastic cup from your hands before setting it on the counter. “you really wanna know?” he asks, studying your body language carefully. when you nod, he leans in slightly.
“for me,” he explains in a low voice, making sure you were paying close attention, “the hottest tattoo a girl could get, is a tattoo of my name... right here.” his hand slides down to rest over where your womb would be, lingering only for just a moment, before pulling away as if nothing happened. “but that’s just a fantasy.”
almost on instinct, your thighs clench, caught off guard by both his words and the ghost of his touch. “you’re crazy…” you giggle, partially amused, partially flustered.
he joins in on your laughter. “am i?” he questions, propping himself up against the cupboards as he stretches, his sweater riding up to reveal his abs when he does. “you don’t think it’d be hot if a guy had your name on him?”
“i dunno,” you admit honestly, “i never thought about it before…”
“hm. you ever thought about any piercings?”
“mm, not really… i like just my earrings” you say with a lazy shrug, “i don’t know if i’d ever want any like, on my face. i like yours, though. how many do you have?”
“wanna count them?” he asks, leaning down to shorten your height gap and inviting you to touch him.
dopily, you nod and lift your hand, skimming first against his eyebrow piercing, then the stud on his nose. “one… two… three, four,” your thumb grazes against his lower lip, carefully noting his two snake bites. you turn his head to the side, tracing the studs and surrounding earrings. “five… six, seven—” you giggle, “—eight, nine, ten. ten piercings.”
as you finish counting, his gaze rolls back to meet yours, and a light laugh escapes him. “almost, gorgeous,” he smiles, taking your fingers in his. “you’re missing one.”
your brows knit together in confusion. “...where?” you ask, your mind quick to wander somewhere a little lower, since you didn't see any more visible piercings.
denki smirks at your expression, lifting your hand up as he parts his lips, and lets your thumb brush against his tongue piercing. “eleven,” he says, knowingly amused.
“oh,” you mumble, a rush of heat spreading across your cheeks as sheepishness blooms at your own dirty thoughts.
he chuckles lowly, releasing your hand for just a moment before snatching it back up like he suddenly remembered something. “oh shoot— i forgot one.”
this time as he guides your hand, he takes it to the place you had expected, and your face flushes once more as your palm presses firmly against the growing bulge in the crotch of his jeans— the weight thick and heavy.
“twelve,” he grins.
instantly, you pull away from him, your voice barely a whisper as you worry if anyone was watching you two, the thought of being caught essentially doing foreplay in public deeply embarrassing you. even if anyone was, they wouldn't have cared. “do you really have one there?” you manage, shyly.
denki only shrugs, coyly avoiding a direct answer. “you wanna find out yourself?”
Thinking about the shock your body would go into having König bully his monster cock into your hole.
Only halfway in and your legs are shaking. You keep hissing every time he tries to move. König muttering to you in half-German, big meaty paw clumsily pushing your damp sweaty hair from your face.
You knew Caleb had a breed kink - it was why you just had a baby after all.
He loves to grab your hips in his hands and rail his fat cock inside your walls, loves to fold you in half in a mating press and shove his cum in those walls that grip him so good. Loves seeing your tummy bulge with how deep he's buried - fuck Caleb even likes those cute stretch marks you get when you're pregnant.
"Pregnant with my baby," he'd moan, kissing your tummy, lavishing those sensitive nipples and moaning, his eyes damn near black. Caleb loved getting his pretty Pips pregnant, but what you didn't know was how much he'd love sucking your nipples.
You were so embarrassed when he'd had you riding his cock just a little over a month after your baby - just in time to be cleared for sex, and he'd leaned up and squished your tits in his huge hands - rough from years of training. Calloused thumb swirling your nipple as his cock made you re learn its shape, those violet eyes dilated.
"That's it, slutty cunt missed me, huh Pips?" He whispered, sitting up and dragging you down on his girthy length, sucking a nipple into his hot mouth. "mmm..."
That's when Caleb tasted your milk for the first time, moaning and sucking harder, making you dizzy from how sore they were from breastfeeding. You'd tugged at those soft brown locks of hair, trying to get him to stop, but Caleb was drunk off your damn taste.
"It's so sweet, fuck..." he'd dragged you down and you rolled your hips, head falling back for more of his rough suction, his mouth quickly moving to the other, milk just dripping down his lips. "Fuck I can't get enough."
"Y-you can't... Caleb..." You sucked in a breath through your teeth. "Fuck feels s'good... ngh!"
After that Caleb was just done for, every chance he got once you put the baby to bed he was sucking your milk, you'd brush his hair back and arch for more, especially when his fingers fucked into your sore little cunt. "Caleb you can't just drink it all!"
"I can't help it," he grins up at you now, fingers scissoring in and out of your messy cunt. "You love it, hmm?"
"N-no," you're lying and he knows, you blush when you do, but when he sucks again you fucking soak him, letting him drink all your sweetness right down his thirsty throat.
"Mmm... gonna make you a mommy again..."
"Again!?" He's chuckling, literally drunk from your tits that are so full, pulling back and kissing you, letting you taste it, hands gripping them rougher to make them drip more. "Ngh!"
"Need them to stay full, honey," he's swirling the beads of milk around your areolas, sighing. "So pretty, and your tummy all full, round with me again?"
"N-not this quick," he has your thighs spread with the fat head of his cock gliding through your syrupy mess, hair falling over a brow - he looks all cute and boyish when he's being a deviant. "Caleb, please..."
"Please what, honey? Use your words," he whispers, teasing your cunt even more with the tip - barely pressing in just to pull back with a filthy pop of that ridge slipping from your greedy hole. "No baby this soon, want me to pull out, too?"
"No, no," he smirks and shoves his cock fully inside, bottoming out with a sharp thrust, groaning at the sight of your tummy moving with him. His fingertips brush your little stretchies from the baby hungrily.
"All mine, my baby inside you again, huh? You want my cock, my cum, want me to wreck your insides pretty?"
"Please, please," you're lost when he's doing just that, fucking into you and squeezing your tits, your milk squirting down and dripping for his hungry mouth, making him moan as he slurps it all up. Your nails dig into his back, making him even thicker inside you.
"Gonna keep you pregnant - hah," he's grinning against your skin, swirling that milk all around and fucking your cunt harder, watching your cute fucked out little expressions. "Keep drinking you, make you a mommy over and over. Yeah, Pips?"
You're dazed and fucked out, just how Caleb likes you. "Mhm."
"Such a good girl f'me," you melt under the praise, cunt spasming when he flips you on top and tugs you down, putting your tits right back in his face. "Lemme drink more, please?"
How he can give you violet puppy dog eyes while sucking all your milk and pumping more cum in you unprotected - well it's just a problem.
****
well my ovulation had to go to Caleb in anticipation of his myth tmrw - blame @uhnosav for this too hehe
caleb gets sooo fucking noisy n desperate when he finally fucks you
you can barely breathe but this man is reciting poems he made twelve years ago while he pounds you to the mattress. he's delirious with affection. your pussy makes him conqeur heaven's worship songs.
"mm—hngh, meimei," he gasps, calebs grip on your waist tight. "y-you're so tight... hahh, around me. did you wait for gege to f-finally take your virginity?"
he's making himself crazy with the very idea that you love him as much he does you. it's driving him mad.
"made gege wait. b-but it's okay.. now gege can use your pretty p-pussy as his personal fuckin' sleeve."
"yeah, meimei. squeeze that pussy for me. t-take my fuckin' cock—oh god..!" he thumbs your clit just how you like it.
"so wet.. so fuckin' wet, meimei. i-is gege's cock too big? is it bullying y-you're pretty... womb?"
you're getting dizzy with each thrust. the cock slides so deep inside of you that it feels like it's knocking against your cervix. he has his chest to yours and his hips slamming down like he's trynna get you knocked up—
and that's what he wants anyways. "g-get pregnant, get pregnant, get pregnant—pleasepleasepleaseplease meimei..!"
caleb whimpers as he comes inside of you. a long drawn out moan is pulled outta him as he buries his seed so deep. he has no plan in letting a single drop leak out
Feral mushroom @kittycatkrissa - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
