Screaming!
CW: 18+ MDNI, neighbour!price x reader - dividers -> @/cafekitsune
You find out John Price doesn’t play around when it comes to catching up on sleep when he’s on leave.
Struggling to bring in a heavy package one morning, you’re startled by your neighbour emerging from his unit huffing and puffing tiredly about noise in nothing but a simple pair of low hanging pyjama bottoms.
You’re concerned you’re going to get an earful when he wordlessly hoists the box up, uncaring about the way it tugs at his waistband to expose a dusting of hair and noticeable veins. Leaving your delivery just inside your door, he turns to look at you through squinted eyes, and your cheeks heat up when you realize you’ve been caught watching it bob under the loose fabric.
In your defence, he cuts quite the hypnotic figure from the side.
“Thank you, John-“ you try- only to be interrupted by a thick arm hooking around your neck; the other reaching behind him to close your door with just a tad too much force. His free hand lowers to scratch at his belly, prompting a loud yawn as a thick palm dips lower, giving himself a little squeeze. With a content hum rolling around in his chest, he pulls you into his apartment.
“Too early.” He grumbles as he flops onto his well-worn couch, half asleep and tugging you with him. Like a strangler fig, he rolls onto his side and cages you against the cushions, his legs tangling around yours and his cock unmistakably fattening against your belly.
Jonathan Levy x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 24: On the counter
Summary: You look after Ava while Jonathan goes out on a date.
A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for betaing and being so lovely! <3
Warnings: neighbour!reader, mentions of the reader liking horror films/Terrifier, reader also has a cat, p in v sex, cream pie, fingering, please let me know if I have missed a warning!
Word Count: 2554
Jonathan knows he shouldn’t be doing this. But he just can’t help himself.
The date had been a bad one, pointless in fact. He should have ducked out after the first ten minutes, no five.
But he’d stayed and now it was nearly twelve fucking am by the time he got home. He should really go to bed. Get some sleep.
Instead, he was talking to you, and drinking coffee. Oh, three am him was going to be pissed.
“I’m sorry I kept you so late,” Jonathan pushes his glasses higher. “Please, you got to let me give you some money.”
You shake your head, raising your hand, “Oh, no, no, no, you letting me pinch your netflix and amazon password for the last four months is more than enough.”
He chuckles, fiddling with his mug, “Yeah, but that’s just being neighbourly.”
You scoff. “It is not, Jonathan.”
Your friendship had started about seven months ago, when Jonathan had taken in a grand total of eight parcels from fedex on your, and your roommates, behalf in one day.
After collecting them, you’d apologised profusely, and baked him a banana cake. Panicking when you gave it to him that a, you didn’t actually know if he was allergic to anything, and b, that he actually liked bananas.
Luckily he did.
Your friendship had grown when his car wouldn’t start one morning, and you’d given him a lift to work on your moped and picked him up after. Plus you’d got your friend’s cousin’s, uncle’s ex-colleague to have a look at his car and sort out the problem.
He’d bought you lunch and looked after your cat if you had to go out of town. You watched his daughter if he had to work late on the days he had her.
Originally, this hadn’t been his weekend to have Ava, hence why he had a date. A very, very bad date.
“Come on,” he smiled at you, that horrible brilliantly blinding smile that leaves you weak at the knees, “usually you’re just with her for what, forty five minutes? An hour, this was nearly four.”
You giggle, “I can’t believe you didn’t just politely leave.”
“I am a man of faults.”
You laugh harder, “Look, I like Ava, we watched a series of R rated horror films and I made sure she ate her weight in sugar without brushing her teeth.”
He grins. “I’m sure I would have had a better time with you guys here.”
You shrug, “Well, you can join us next time. We’re going to watch Terrifier.” You tease.
“Ugh,” he shudders, “Don’t tell me you like those kinds of films?”
You can’t stop from smiling at his dramatic reaction. “What? You don’t?”
He pulls a face and you giggle.
“They’re fun!”
“They are not.” He takes a sip of his cooling coffee, trying to nurse it as long as he could.
“They are.”
“All blood and guts.” He screws up his face, putting it on a bit for you.
“But the prosthetics! Plus it’s not real.” You say playfully.
“Freaky.” He shakes his head. “Too much for my old heart.”
You snort. “Jonathan.”
“What?” He smiles.
“I know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?”
“You just want me to tell you how young you are.” You rest your chin on your hand as you look at him.
He pauses and then nods rapidly, “I do actually, and you have to, it’s the social contract.”
You giggle, “Well, I’m not.”
“That's unfair.” He says in mock outrage, making you laugh harder.
“Fine,” you hold up your hands, “You’re very handsome.”
He pauses, looking at you for a moment. “I said you had to tell me I was young, not beautiful.” He teases, expecting you to throw a comment back at him immediately.
But instead, you pause. For a moment, it’s almost funny how you freeze.
“I…” You swallow, your mouth dry. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
“It’s okay,” he quickly covers, “I’m just teasing, it’s fine.”
You smile weakly, your skin burning. You get up quickly, nearly knocking your mug over in the process. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Sorry, I, erm,” you pick up your mug, and then his, “Let me, erm, I’ll put them in the dishwasher.”
You turn before he even has a chance to say anything, rushing over to the other side of the kitchen, putting the mugs on the counter.
Jonathan stands quickly, calling your name, “Hey, it’s fine, really. Don’t worry,” anxiety cuts into his chest, leaving his ribs bare. He walks behind you, accidentally bumping into you as you turn.
“Sorry,” he grabs your arm to steady you and himself, his heart thudding so hard in his temples he’s sure he’s going to burst a blood vessel.
You glance at his eyes nervously, breathing hard. “I…”
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He says softly. He should put his hand down, stop touching your arm. “I was just teasing.”
You nod, “I know, I… I’m sorry.” Your insides squirm a little, trying to find a way out to escape this awkwardness.
“Don’t be,” he breathes, leaning a fraction closer. “It’s always nice when someone beautiful calls you handsome.”
Your brain glitches, static for a moment, rebooting.
“Beautiful?” You repeat.
“Beautiful.” His mouth says before he has any say in the matter. “And kind, and funny, and wond-”
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you and kissing him deeply. He groans into your mouth, pressing you back against the counter.
It takes him a moment to catch up with his body, to figure out this is actually real, not some well used fantasy he plays out behind his eyes in the shower.
You pull lightly at his hair, moaning softly when he licks into your mouth and pushes his legs between yours. He rocks against you, his cock quickly hardening in his trousers as he presses against the seam of your jeans.
Part of him wants to pull back, to not push things, to not rush. But the much louder voice in his head laments at how long he’s been holding back, how long he’s been thinking of you while touching himself with a lubed hand.
You gasp as he kisses along your jaw, his beard tickling your skin as he sucks at your pulse point greedily. God, if he could just get you to make that noise one more time.
“Jonathan,” you moan softly, pressing yourself closer to him and pulling on his shoulders, needing to rid the fraction of space between you.
He growls, nipping at your neck and nearly coming on the spot when he hears how needily you call his name. “Can I take these off?” His words are nearly lost with how he sucks on your skin, barely able to move his mouth back more than a centimetre. He pulls at your top, your trousers and you nod hastily.
His groan at your confirmation makes you shiver. He practically tears your clothing from you, pushing and pulling the material away as if it personally offended him, before he hikes your right leg up around his waist and urges you up onto the counter.
He sucks your breasts into his mouth greedily, quickly going from one to another, like a child in a toy store unable to choose his favourite. While he presses his thumb to your clit and strokes his fore and middle fingers through your folds.
He groans deeply at the wetness he finds, rocking against you as he pushes inside.
You gasp, biting down on your lip to keep yourself vaguely quiet as you cling onto his shoulders with one hand and the counter with the other.
He strokes gently, pressing rhythmically against your walls as he toys with your clit and you sob, practically clinging onto him for dear life.
Pleasure builds dizzyingly fast in your belly, threatening to pull you down with every stroke. You moan in his ear, lightheaded, just about gathering yourself together to whimper his name. You weren’t prepared for this utter onslaught, for him to be so determined to pull you apart piece by piece.
Spikes of sensation buzz along your skin, twisting and building.
“You’re going to make me come,” you sob, shocked at how quickly your body is ready to fall apart.
“Fuck yes,” he growls, sinking his teeth into your collar bone before he licks up your neck back to your lips. It’s hot and wet and messy, his tongue in your mouth to quiet your sobs as you pulse and gasp, coming violently around his fingers.
You shake in his grip, breaking the kiss to bury your face in his shoulder. He works you through it, stroking and pumping until you feel like liquid in his hands.
“God,” he groans, kissing your forehead and breathing hard. He takes his fingers out of you slowly and shoves them in his mouth, moaning wantonly at the taste.
When you manage to pull back a fraction to look at him, you can see his glasses have steamed up. You giggle and he grins around his fingers, taking them out with a pop to kiss you.
You run your hands through his hair, shivering as he presses close once more.
“Do you?” He starts at the same moment you speak - “Can I?”
He chuckles, nodding for you to go first.
“Take these off.” You mutter, pulling at his jumper. He moves back a fraction, letting you pull it over his head and snorting when his glasses get caught in the neckline. He whips them off, placing them on the side, his curls wild.
Jonathan bites his lip as you unbuckle his jeans, helping you by undoing his fly.
“Can I fuck you?” He groans, kissing your cheek and jaw, each glide of his tongue makes your body sing.
“Please.”
He growls, barely pushing his jeans and boxers down his thighs before he’s taking his heavy cock in hand and pumping himself a few times.
You take a cheeky look down and bite your lip.
He grins, “Like what you see?”
The line would make you giggle in any other situation, but now your mouth is watering. You nod rapidly.
“Oh,” he chuckles, spitting in his hand, “So that’s what makes you lost for words, I get it.” He smears his saliva over the head of his cock before he presses closer, guiding the tip to your folds.
“You’re really-” You whine, gasping as he notches at your entrance and just glides inside. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, your body bucking unthinkingly as he pushes deeper.
He groans deeply, sighing like this is his first drink of water after a long hot day. He slides his hands to your inner thighs, spreading you wider as he eases in.
“Jonathan,” you gasp.
“I know, I know, fuck, you’re so tight.” He lightly rocks his hip, sheathing himself in the last few inches.
You whine, licking into his mouth when he kisses you hungrily. He thrusts experimentally, easing out a fraction before he pushes back in.
“How do you like it?” He mutters against your lips, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back.
“I don’t mind,” you manage to say, your voice barely there.
He snorts, moving one of your legs to wrap around his waist again as he takes hold of your hips in a firm grip. “Tell me if you want something.” He groans, pulling out and then plunging back in. “Want to make you come again.”
You nearly shriek, throwing your head back and managing, somehow, to keep your voice muffled as he sets a brutal pace.
He bucks into you rapidly, shaking the cutlery on the drainer by the sink with every deep thrust. The toaster jumps with every buck of his hips into yours. The sound of your slick echoing as you coat his cock.
“You look so fucking hot when you come,” he groans. “So fucking wet.” He pounds into you, sweat beading in his hairline, the way you grab at him and whine setting his blood ablaze.
His pubic bone smacks against your clit with every thrust, his cock rolling against your walls and pushing impossibly deeper.
Something in you wants to break, needs to snap and flood out as he keeps rhythm, your body moving in time with his desperately.
You bite at his neck, sucking a love bite into his skin and shivering when he tenses and growls. He pulls you back a fraction with one hand on your jaw, his eyes so dark, and licks into your mouth like you hold the secrets of the universe.
You whimper, so needy for anything he’ll give - and he’ll give you everything.
Pleasure pulses in your core, makes your pussy flutter and you’re so close you can taste the sweetness on your tongue.
“Jonathan!”
“You gonna come on my cock? Gonna make a nice creamy mess?” He groans, his balls tightening. “Want to feel you, please.”
You gasp, sobbing silently as your orgasm is ripped from you. Pleasure explodes along your nerves, wiping out any other thought as he drowns you and revives you in the same instant.
“Shit.” Jonathan’s hips stutter, his mouth open as your walls squeeze and suck him deeper, milking him for every single drop. He comes with a deep groan, emptying rope after rope of hot, thick cum inside.
He clings onto you as he finishes, hazy for a moment with the strength of his orgasm.
You breathe hard, he can feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest.
Lightly he sucks on your neck, licking the salt from your skin. He kisses your temple. “You okay?”
“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk for a week.” You tease, exhausted, and he chuckles.
“I’ll wait on you hand and foot while you recover.” He smiles when you look up at him, stroking your cheek as he kisses you softly, reverently.
“Honestly, was that alright?” He mutters, a pang of worry settling under his ribs.
You snort, and kiss him deeply, stroking your fingers through his beard. “Fucking amazing.”
He grins. “Do you want to do it again sometime? Maybe in a bed after I’ve bought you dinner? I’ll even watch that Terrifier film with you.”
You giggle and nod. “I’d like that.”
He tries to help you down, but you end up helping him. His jeans have twisted around his calves and he nearly falls to a heap on the floor.
“My hero,” he mutters as you pull them off and kiss his thigh. “We’re lucky Ava didn’t wake up when we were… can you imagine me falling over is the thing that actually wakes her? She’ll need therapy for years after seeing her dad naked on the kitchen floor with his jeans around his ankles.”
You clap your hand over your mouth to stop your fit of laughter and he grins as he helps you back to your feet.
“I love hearing you laugh.” He lightly touches your cheek. “Do you want to take a shower?” He gives you a cheeky smile. “With me? You can stay over… if you want, I mean. No pressure.”
You smile and nod. “I’d like a shower. With you. And sleep over.”
He grins, wrapping his arms around you.
Thank you for reading!
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Sevika look alike contest in my bed RIGHT NOW
Ooo baby this one is sin
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This one is based off a hc by @justhereforsubsevika !!! Thank you for the sevi brainrot food my friend 😫
cw: smut. (mostly) bottom!sevika (TEEHEE)
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Those are some of the prettiest, most captivating lips south of Noxus. They were meant to always be wrapped around something; or, parted and filled until she gagged.
She is an absolute munch. She'd live between your legs if you'd allow it. Morning wood? No, morning munchies.
You wake up every morning, without fail, to Sevika peppering your skin with kisses. You can tell sleep is still clinging to her mind like it is yours, because her kisses fade in and out with minute pauses when she nearly falls back asleep for a moment.
And yet, she's still kissing down your body, lingering to lavish your lower stomach with special attention before she rises back to kiss under your ear.
"Can I have it, baby?" She'll ask in a morning voice that could have Janna herself laying back and spreading.
Her fingers are busying themselves teasing the hem of your underwear, and are deftly ripping away the damnable boundary once you emphatically say yes.
She'll always give you those begging eyes while she goes down on you, as if pleading with you for even more of your essence down her throat. She can never have enough of you. Her mind melts away when you're between her lips, all she can comprehend is you, your taste, and how you fall apart in her mouth.
Eating you out is by far her favorite past-time, she would say it's a hobby of hers even, but it's more than even that; it's literally a passion of hers. Sevika daydreams about your pussy, eyes glazing over mid-workday as she traces out your clit in her mind.
MUNCH
Once you two are together, she can't even masturbate without something resembling your pussy with her. In her mouth, specifically.
You get Sevika the custom-made fleshlight as an anniversary gift, handing it to her with a giggle (mostly bc you'd wrapped it in a way where it was very obvious what it was).
"Please make sure I catch you using it," you murmur in her ear with a groan, palming her cunt through her pants to drive home your point. And if bby can do one thing, it's follow orders!
On the night that Sevika first uses it, she gets home a little earlier than you do from work. There's rarely a night where she doesn't need to blow off some steam from dealing with the repercussions of Silco's blunders, or the general headassery of the Chem-barons.
You're not home yet, and she's particularly impatient. She takes the fleshlight out from the nightstand (with a strange sense of bashfulness lol), running her fingers gently over the replica of your pussy lips. She bites her lip, imagining your breathy moans at her light touches.
She lays down on her stomach on the bed, pillow tucked under her hips and propping her pretty ass even further up in the air. She holds the fleshlight with her mechanical hand in front of her face like she's laid between your legs, while the other pumps one of your longer dildos slowly in and out of her pussy…
Sevika doesn't know how she ever touched herself without it beforehand. Stars are shooting around behind her eyes as she traces her tongue over the perfectly-replicated folds of your pussy. There's something so painfully lewd- borderline humiliating- about what she's doing that makes her even more wet.
She loves it, she loves it so much and she's pumping the dildo even faster, her hips bucking as she sucks on "your" clit, eyes rolling back as she swears she can taste you. She can practically hear you cooing her ear, calling her a good girl while your hand strokes over her ass-
Oh, but you are cooing in her ear. And your hand's drifted down to the cock between her legs, taking control and slowing the pace down until she was whimpering. Big, strong Sevika, whimpering.
"Shhh, baby, it's okay, I'm here. Keep eating that little toy of yours out, keep being good."
The little moan of submission she gives shoots straight up your spine, and it takes all of your willpower not to fuck her silly with the dildo. You keep pumping it slowly, bottoming out with each stroke just to hear that restrained whimper in the back of her throat.
Sevika looked so good when you stepped into the bedroom, hips rutting against your pillow as she fucked into herself, face buried in your pussy. She was consumed by you, and it drove you absolutely insane.
You appreciate getting to see from a different angle how she looks when she eats you out. It's so clear that she's eating you out for her own pleasure (the fuckin' brat) rather than your own, as she practically makes out with the fleshlight.
Against all rationale, you're almost jealous. Then you remember, you're in charge.
"Enough of that. Lay on your back." And then, you're climbing up to sit on her pretty face (not without giving her a proper hello kiss first, ofc), leaning over her with a broken moan to continue fucking her with the dildo.
You'd think she hadn't had a proper meal in days with how loudly she moans into your pussy. Her hands clamp down on your hips, pulling you down to smother her face. And suddenly… you're not nearly as in charge as her tongue is.
"B-baby… please, wait, it's so much, oh!" You're whimpering as you rest your forehead on her stomach, your wrist lazily pumping the dildo in and out of her. It's funny how quickly that wicked tongue can break your more dominant spirit.
She won't stop suckling on your clit, muttering "so good, so sweet" in that fucked-out tone of hers that lets you know Sevika's gone. All that's in her place are her whims, all of which have to do with having you in her mouth.
She's pulling your third orgasm of the night out of you, which at that point your throat is raw from screaming and begging for more. You rapidly tap on her thigh, squeaking out a high-pitched string of "please"'s that cause her to release you with a pop.
That puppy-eyed look is back as you two readjust, with you laying back on the bed and her bracketed between your legs. "Was that good?" She asks, her mind still hazy, and sinking back into her subspace as you massaged her scalp.
"So good, Sevi," you praised. She smirked pridefully, dipping down between your legs to give your pussy a kiss. She laughs softly when your hips buck, and you push her face back with a whine.
"The real thing's still better," she says, reaching up to grasp one of your hands as her languid, loving kisses branched out.
Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 23: Can't get to sleep
Summary: Miguel misses you.
A/N: I'm just gonna go stare out of the window.
Warnings: phone sex, lube, jacking off, reader has a job which takes them away from their home on conferences occasionally, Miguel sleeping nakied, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!
Word Count: 941
Miguel shifts in bed, rolling over for the seventh time in two minutes. He just couldn’t settle, couldn’t find any position that was remotely comfortable.
He grabs your pillow and buries his face into it, inhaling your scent that still lingers on the cotton. He hates when you’re away, hates it more than anything.
He knows it’s selfish and impractical, you had an important job that you loved and it was only a few times a year that you went to a conference that he couldn’t attend with you. He’d never stop you, never voice his upset. But he misses you. Painfully.
There’s a buzz buzz buzz of his comminator and he groans, huffing and rolling over until he realises it’s you calling.
He answers quickly. “What’s wrong?”
You chuckle, “Hello to you too.”
“Baby, it’s the middle of the night-”
“Then why aren’t you asleep?”
He pauses, “I…”
“Don’t lie.” He can hear the smile in your voice.
“I’m having difficulty.” He mumbles, laying back down, his heart already calming at hearing you.
“I know.” “How?”
“Lyla called me.”
He swears and groans.
“She said you weren’t sleeping.”
“So she woke you up?” He says gruffly.
“No, I have trouble sleeping without you too.” You say soothingly.
“That’s a fucking lie, you fall asleep the second you get into bed.” He scoffs.
“No,” you draw out the word teasingly, “that’s only when you’re in the bed with me.”
He mumbles something noncomitable.
“What was that?” You laugh.
“Nothing, just grumpy noises.”
You laugh harder and he smiles, his chest growing lighter at the sound. He shifts a little, stretching and rolls onto his back.
“I’m glad you called, miss you.” He mumbles.
“I miss you too.”
“I miss you more.”
You snort and he grins again.
“I know why you can’t sleep,” he says after a moment.”
“Oh, yeah? Why?” “I didn’t fuck your brains out beforehand.”
You laugh harder.
“Hey,” he tries his best to interject some outrage into his voice, but it doesn't work.
“I think that’s why you can't sleep.” You retort.
“Maybe.” You pause, you hadn’t expected him to just admit it. “Why don’t you?”
Miguel swallows thickly, “Why don’t I what?”
“Come?”
He wriggles a little, a shiver running down his spine. “Not the same if you’re not here.”
“I am here.”
He swallows thickly.
“I think it’ll help you sleep.” You say softly.
“Okay.” He breathes out the word, fragile and quiet on his tongue. “What… what should I do?” His voice small.
“Get the lube from the bedside table.”
He nods, then adds a quick, “yeah,” as he rumages around in the top drawer and pulls it out.
“Lay back down.”
He follows your suggestions without a second thought, getting comfortable and pulling down the blankets.
“You naked?”
“Hmmm.”
“Good boy.”
He lets out a little groan at the sound of your voice.
“Put your fingers on your chest.” You say softly, his mind going a little numb as he closes his eyes and places his fingers against his skin.
“And just traiiiiill down,” you whisper.
He groans as he strokes down his chest, picturing you above him in his mind’s eye. He shivers, his muscles jumping under the feather-light touch.
“Tha’s it,” you say sweetly, “Now get your hand nice and wet.”
He moans a little as he flicks open the bottle of lube and pours a hefty amount onto his palm. The sound of the cap opening is enough to make his cock twitch and harden quickly. That was definitely something to think about later. He rubs the lube in his hand, warming it slightly. “It’s wet.” He mutters.
“Want you to make a tight hole with your thumb and fingers, can you do that?”
He nods, and then swallows, realising that you can’t see him. “Yeah, I can do that.” He moans.
“Good boy, now I want you to fuck your hand, nice and slow.”
Miguel bites his lip, whining softly. “Okay.” He holds the base of his heavy cock, positioning it so that he can press the tight little hole he made against the tip. He shivers, his legs squirming.
“How does it feel?”
“Good, but…” “But?” You smile.
“Made it too small.” He bites his lip with his sharp teeth.
“You can widen it a little, but keep it as tight as possible, okay?”
“Yes,” he mumbles breathlessly, “I will.”
“Good boy Miguel, you drag it down your cock.”
He groans loudly, thrusting up slowly in time with his hand.
“Take your time, get all the way to the bottom.”
He huffs, trying to stop his hips from bucking wildly.
“And all the way up.”
Miguel groans loudly, the deep sound of his slick hand echoing.
“You keep doing that, nice and slow.” You mutter.
He whimpers ever so slightly, his breathing catching in his throat.
After five more long, agonising pumps you whisper, “a little faster.”
“Thank you,” he shivers, picking up the pace ever so slightly.
Three more pumps, “Faster.”
“Fuck.” He misses you so fucking much, needs you there with him now to wrap your arms around him and play with his hair as you tease him.
“Faster.”
He whines again, high pitched, his balls tightening. “I’m gonna come.”
“So soon?” You tease.
“Yeah,” he whimpers, “miss you, want you, need you- oh!” He comes hard, shooting robs of warm cum all over his stomach as he cries out your name.
He breathes hard as aftershocks roll through him.
You giggle playfully. “Did you make a mess?”
“Yes.” He pouts. “A big one.”
You bite your lip. “Can I see?”
“I’ll send you a picture.”
Thank you for reading!
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Genre of character: submissive like a guard dog is submissive
😋😋😋
Of course your Domme is happy about your devotion to her, but have you ever tried :
Give your Domme a pretty bracelet that catches her eye, just because,
Buy her that scented candle she loves, so that her surroundings reflect her elegance,
Give her a pretty leather notebook, so that every word she writes is surrounded by luxury,
Buy her the supplies for her hobbies,
Offer her flowers,
Send her her favorite treat,
Add a small decorative object to enhance the space where she relaxes,
Send her tea, just because she likes it,
Give her that lipstick you saw, because it's her colour
Write her poems, textes and thoughts about your submission to her
Draw and paint scenes that you know she likes
Drive her anywhere she needs, cause she shouldn't be tired from driving
Devotion is a beautiful thing, but what does it mean without you showing a concrete investment in her comfort, pleasure and authority?
Think about really thanking your Domme for the time she spends with you.
Being a sub means honouring your Domme at every level, including through small material gestures that leave no doubt about your devotion. ✨
Need this to happen irl🙏🏼
౨౿ rodrick who is such a loser, the first time you kissed he moaned into your mouth. his body leaning into yours, his hand sliding around your waist—the movement is so confident you think he’s getting cocky until you hear it, the light sound of satisfaction. you do nothing but smile into his lips before pulling away, “you’re cute.”
now, the loser loves making out with you sitting in his chair. your legs on either side of his hips as your shorts ride up your legs. to center himself like before, his warm hands slide from your hips to your sides, slightly making you shiver. your lips are wet with one another’s spit, both your heads spinning, noses hitting every now and again as you breathe in each other's air.
“rodrick!”
as if nothing has changed, noises slip from his mouth while you taste each other, your hand scratching into the short hair on the back of his head, not making him any better. his hands slide further up until he’s grabbing a handful of your breast but before you can even think about getting the shirt off greg’s voice takes over the room.
“rodrick, mom sa- EW!” the two of you pull away immediately, you look over at greg with a shocked expression while rodrick simply stuffs his face into your chest with a groan. he mumbles something, but it doesn’t reach either of your ears. “i think i’m gonna hurl,” greg says, making exaggerated gagging noises as he begins to leave. “oh my god,” rodrick moans into your chest in aggravation. he lifts his head to shoo greg from the room further, “get out.”
you hear the soles of greg’s feet hit each step as he leaves. rodrick leans back into the chair and you finally get to take a good look at him; his hair messy, his lips almost as pink as his cheeks, the pinkness creeping up his neck a little, lips slightly agape. you can only grin, “you’re really cute.”
TITTIES IN CROP TOP W NO BRA
TITTIES IN CROP TOP W NO BRA
TITTIES IN CROP TOP W NO BRA
TITTIES IN CROP TOP W NO BRA
TITTIES IN CROP TOP W NO BRA
NEEDED this
Soap is the last person anyone would expect to want a wife as desperately as he does but oh. Does that boy think about marriage more than anything else.
Obsessed with Soap’s stupid fucking nape and the fuzzy hair there. He probably gets yanked around by it all the time. It’s probably Ghost’s favourite place to slap. Probably the yummiest place to b..bite. He should cover it up, the whore. Wear exclusively turtlenecks from now on, otherwise i won’t be liable for mauling him