#quirofilia

[iheartvanillamilkshakes]

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⭒˗ˏˋ Isaac Night x Fem!Reader ˎˊ˗⭒

Kinktober 2025 Masterlist

Summary: Isaac has a thing for hands, and you're more than happy to indulge him.

Content Warnings: Quirofilia (hand fetish), teasing, lots and lots of f-bombs, power dynamics, hand job, smut, dirty talk, praise kink, Isaac has both of his hands in this fic, cum eating (lemme know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 928

A/n: I couldn't resist the irony of giving Isaac a hand kink since he's missing one 🙈 anywaysss, hope you enjoy this fic!!

It wasn’t something Issac talked about, not outright, anyway. But you noticed. You noticed the way his gaze lingered when you painted your nails, the way his fingers twitched when you traced idle patterns on his thigh, subtly shifting a pillow over his lap to try and hide the growing problem you were very aware of. And tonight? Tonight, he was watching.

You were sprawled across his lap on the couch, scrolling through your phone with one of your freshly manicured hands while the other absently played with the hem of his shirt. His fingers drummed against your hip, restless.

"Stop that," you muttered, nudging his hand away.

He caught your wrist before you could pull back, his grip firm but not rough. "Make me."

You rolled your eyes, but your pulse jumped anyway. That was the thing about Isaac, he knew what he was doing. He knew exactly how to turn a casual touch into something dirty.

So you tested him. Dragging your fingertips up his forearm, slow and deliberate as you watched his jaw tighten.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

You smirked. "Problem?"

His hand shot out, catching yours mid-tease. "You’re playing with fire."

"Maybe I like getting burned."

That was all the warning you got before he flipped you onto your back, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand. His other hand traced down your side, possessively claiming you.

"You think you’re being all cute, huh?" His voice was low, rough.

You arched into his touch. "I don’t think, I know I am."

He leaned down, his lips hovering just above your collarbone. “Then let’s see how cute you look when you’re begging.”

And just like that, Isaac’s grip tightened around your wrists as you shifted beneath him, his breath hitching when your fingers flexed against his hold.

"Fuck," he muttered again, his voice rougher now. "Your hands–"

You smirked, twisting your wrists just enough to feel his fingers dig in deeper. "What about them?"

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his gaze dropping to where your hands were pinned above your head. "You know what."

You did. You knew exactly how much it drove Isaac wild, the way your fingers curled around his when you held hands, the way your nails scraped down his back when he fucked you, the way you touched him like you were memorizing every inch.

So you pushed your luck.

"Let go," you murmured, testing his grip.

His eyes darkened. "No."

You arched a brow. "Scared I’ll do something reckless?"

That got him. His fingers curled tight, and then slowly, he released your wrists.

You didn’t waste time.

Your hands slid down his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles through his shirt before dipping beneath the fabric. His breath hitched when your nails grazed his skin, his abs tensing under your touch.

"Fuck," he hissed as his head fell back, a sigh escaping his lips.

You grinned, pushing him back onto the couch and settling between his legs. His hands immediately found your hair, threading through the strands like he needed something to hold onto.

But you had other plans.

You caught his wrists, pinning them to the couch beside his hips. His eyes flew open, pupils blown wide.

"You," you said, leaning down to press a kiss to his inner thigh, "don’t get to touch."

His groan was filthy.

You took your time after that, dragging your hands up his thighs, tracing the outline of his cock through his trousers, watching the way his fingers twitched against the couch like he was fighting the urge to grab you.

When you finally undid his zipper, his hips jerked off the couch.

"Please," he gritted out, his voice wrecked.

"Shhhh," you murmured, your smile turning smug. "Patience. I'm not done with you yet."

He didn't protest that time, his hands clenching into fists as he waited. His eyes were locked on yours, dark and hungry, and you took your time, drawing this out just a little longer just to see how far you could push him.

You leaned down, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to the inside of his thigh, just above the waistband of his boxers. His breath hitched, his fingers digging into the couch cushions.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice rough.

You grinned against his skin, dragging your nails lightly up his thigh. "You like that?"

His jaw clenched. "You know I do."

You hummed, finally hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down just enough to free his cock. His hips jerked instinctively, but you pinned him back down with a hand on his stomach.

"Hands," you reminded him, tapping his wrist where it was still pressed into the couch.

He groaned, but he didn’t move.

You rewarded him by wrapping your fingers around his length, stroking him slowly but just enough to make his breath shudder. His head tipped back against the couch as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

"Fuck," he breathed, his hips twitching under your touch.

You smirked, tightening your grip just slightly. "You’re so easy for me."

His laugh was ragged. "Only for you."

You leaned down, getting straight to the point as you began to stroke him faster. Isaac’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm tight from the intensity as he struggled to hold back a gasp.

You hummed around him, savoring the way his breath caught, the way his thighs tensed under your hands.

And when you finally pulled back, his grip tightened, just for a second before he forced himself to let go.

"Fuck," he muttered again, his voice wrecked.

You grinned up at him, licking your fingers clean in an achingly slow motion. Isaac's eyes darkened as he swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving yours.

He laughed breathlessly before yanking you up into his lap. "And I told you you’d be the death of me."

[multishipper-baby]

Caught back up with Jujutsu season 2 and I have a lot of thoughts but rn I'm just looking at the opening like

I wish I could draw hands this pretty.

[georgiapeach30513]

Kinktober 2021, Day 17: Quirofilia

Summary:  Why are Mickey’s hands so enticing??

Pairings:  Mickey Henry X Reader

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, public fingering, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  583

Quirofilia is a type of sexual fetish for hands

Previous

Series Masterlist

You lick your lips when you watch those muscled, but yet so elegant hands scratch along the record.  Your eyes travel up his arms, following the prominent vein up the hills and valleys of his muscled bicep.  Feeling yourself heat up when you travel back to his hands.  You know exactly all the ways those hands can be put to good use.  

Remembering all the ways those sinful digits hands roam over your soft skin.  The way his slightly calloused palms tickle, and heat up your skin in the most delicious way.  Giving you the slightest squeezes as he explores your curves.  You try to look away, try to dance, but he’s a menace.  

Mickey knows just what he’s doing, when he finally catches your eyes, he gives three fingers a quick lick before scratching the vinyl.  It’s not fair.  You have to stand here and wait until he’s done with his set.  But then his head flicks up for you to join him, and you don’t want him to wait.  

Making your way up to him, he pulls you stand in front of him.  His hands on top of yours, he guides you how to move.  You can’t focus, you try, because you hear his laughs behind your ears.  He leans over to pepper kisses up your neck, until he’s back to guiding your hands around his turntables.  “Baby doll, if you focus, I’ll give you a preview of what you’re getting when you get home.”

This is what makes you focus on what he’s showing you.  Another kiss to your neck, and his hands drift under the front of your pants, “I knew you were staring at my hands.  Got you dripping for them,” he seizes when he spreads your slick around.  “I’m going to play with your little bean, to your beat.”

You take a deep gulp.  Your fingers scratch along the album, and like he promised he follows your movements.  Stimulating you in the most perfect of ways, and then he enters two fingers in your cunt, his palm now palming your clit, “You’re slowing down.  Watch the people.  They’re looking up here confused.”

It’s ridiculous that he works your body the way he does, and expects you to pay attention to the music.  You go back to focusing on the beat, but still wanting to him to continue his ministrations.  His rings rub against you, creating a chill with your heat.  You lean your head back on his shoulder, and gives you a quick kiss, “Pay attention.  They’re waiting for that grand finale.”

With this admission he begins to work you over.  The crowd pumping their fists with the beat and Mickey’s pumping.  If only they knew.  You can’t hold back anymore.  Your body keening, and your voice whimpering when you come to the edge.  Mickey’s pace is relentless as your cunt sucks his finger back in.  Your knees buckle and he holds you up.  With a deep scratch of the record, your hand holding it still so the needle can’t read it, you cum on his fingers.  The crowd staring at the two of you confused, and Mickey’s hand jerks out of your pants, knocking your hand off the record, before raising and screaming a loud, “Yeah!” and thankfully they’re back dancing.

“Came so hard you made the music stop.”

“Oh shut up, and do that again.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @thedarkplume​ @johndeaconshands​ @xoxabs88xox​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @duuhrayliegh​ @rebekahdawkins​ @autumnrose40​ @terry2227​

[aquagustd]

my mother’s lockscreen is a picture of my father’s hands🥴

hand kinks run in the fam?

[et-maladie]

I just wanna make a pretty boy cum in his pants while he grinds on my led and I suck his fingers

[blameyourproblemsonthegreeks]

send hand pics pls, I like hands

[jmeelee]

“That’s all you want?” the prostitute asks, eyebrow quirked.  “Okay buddy, it’s your money”

There’s a hooker on every corner in this city; Derek’s walked past thousands and never been tempted.  Until tonight.  He doesn’t consider himself a fetishist, but callous-rough palms and short, chewed nails are the first thing Derek sees when he crosses the street, and before he knows it he’s stuffing three hundred dollars down the front of this guy’s pants.  Just to feel those hands on his body for a few minutes.

“For the price you’re paying, you should at least use my mouth,” the hooker tells his as he coats sinfully dexterous fingers with lube.  He wraps those slick fingers around Derek’s cock, pumping him long and slow.  Blue veins and flexing tendons stand out in sharp relief against the thin skin on top of his hands, and soft, dark-gold hair dusts his knuckles.  Derek could cum just looking at them.  

“Later.” Derek trembles, knees weak.  “Now… hands.”  Derek has a loaded trust fund and a burning desire.  They can get to his wickedly generous mouth some other time.

“Suit yourself,” he says, twisting his wrist just right.  “I’m Stiles, by the way.”  His thumb is rubbing small, tight circles right under the head of Derek’s cock, making his thighs clench and shake.

The other hand snakes to the back of Derek’s neck, pale, slim fingers holding him in place like an unruly puppy, pulling him in so they’re pressed together, the wet tip of Derek’s dick smearing pre-cum all over Stiles’ shirt.  “Later sounds promising,” Stiles whispers, breath tickling the shell of Derek’s ear.  “There’s a lot more I can do with these hands.”

Derek shudders, a whole-body shiver, and paints Stiles’ palm.  

     Sterek Valentine Week 2019  ♥ Kinky 

@sterekvalentineweek

[mlmcontent]

I’m a weird gay who has a thing for hands