I Was Just Thinking About Him Too ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

My man doesn’t get enough love ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

Category: Villain

shigaraki x afab!reader

tags: grinding, fingering, virginity loss (tomura's), more experienced reader, praise kink if you squint

warnings: this is a smut fic. | 18+ | MDNI / Ageless blogs DNI

wc: 2.2k

a/n: this is a character study wrapped in a smutty bow. Pre-MVA characterization. this is also my second time writing smut, pls go easy on me

happy birthday tomura baby <3

Tomura had been branded as a freak the instant he killed his entire family at only five-years old. It was a mark that stood stark against the surface of his pale skin, its burn traveling through every layer of skin and flesh, down to the bone. Even as a mere child, he was always treated like some sort of monster. The kind of guy you'd see coming and cross to the other side of the street. Someone you'd worry about following you home. A degenerate. A creep. A villain.

With All For One's guidance, he had learned to embrace these views of himself at a very young age. No one would ever help him, no hero or bystander. He was a villain, after all. And if he couldn't be anything but a disgusting villain, he might as well be the most disgusting villain in Japan.

His views changed when you stumbled into his life. At first, he didn't know how to react to you. To your kindness. You would tease him, call him cute. You were somehow capable of drawing out a softness in him—the part of him that wanted to pet every dog he saw out on a walk. The part of him that wanted to hold your hand. Parts of him he thought died with his family.

Growing up, Tomura was obsessed with villains. The kind that killed and destroyed. This obsession was found in all forms of media; comic books, television shows, and as he soon found, porn.

The villain stereotyping for porn was…interesting. Brutal and careless, the kind of person who took, not gave. A selfish lover, if one could even use that word. Reality didn't always equal fiction. And Tomura was a real villain, forged in iron and blood, not an over exaggerated caricature of evil. He hated how soft he felt when he was with you. How softly he wanted to fuck you.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. He was a villain, someone who wanted utter destruction, not for selfish reasons, but for the betterment of society, for fucks sake. Villains were harsh. Cruel. Possessing a ruthlessness and violence that was incongruent with affection or tenderness. All media, all stereotyping, should have made him merciless. His pornographic counterpart would have you folded over, cruelly pounding away at your cunt in a mating press, uncaring and unconcerned about the possible effects of decay from where his hands pressed below your knees.

It wasn't just that he was scared of hurting you, it was that a fear that he'd become the thing everyone expected him to be—cruel, uncaring, selfish—and those traits would come out when he was with you. With the ones he loved. Your love for Tomura came easy. Getting him to love himself came harder.

It started slow on your insistence of his comfort—long make out sessions in abandoned buildings that left both your lips red and swollen and his cock straining beneath his boxers, a wet spot on the front as evidence of his arousal. He always felt guilty after; dark finger-shaped bruises from where he gripped your ass and thighs tightly, desperate to feel your skin even through his artists gloves. Slowly though, he began to realize that you didn't exactly mind, often guiding his hands exactly where you wanted them, admiring the marks he made in the mirror.

It was during one of these sessions where things got a bit heavier than normal. You were sat, straddled over his lap, his hands kneading your ass under the hem of your shorts, when you suddenly and involuntarily jerked, grinding into his dick, hard beneath his black pants. From the way you shuddered and moaned into his mouth, the friction must have gone directly to your clit.

"God—sorry," you gasped.

Sliding his hands up to your hips, Tomura guided you over his cock, rocking his hips into yours.

"Don't be," He panted into your mouth.

Your pussy was so warm through the fabric of his pants as you began to grind your clit over his length, hard against his thigh. You looked so beautiful like this—moans escaping your lips as your face contorted in pleasure. You looked like you wanted him to fuck you.

Suddenly he was twitching in his pants, hot, wet cum soaking the fabric of his jeans, a choked whimper escaping his mouth.

He couldn't hear anything over the sound of yours and his breathing, coming out in short, quick breaths, his heartbeat in his ears.

Tightening his grip on your waist, he looked up at you. You had a satisfied, almost smug looking smile on your face. Leaning in to kiss him again, you murmured against his lips. "Whatever you want to do, I trust you." Suddenly he wasn't what people thought of him. He was a villain, yes, but he was capable of things no stereotyped reflection of himself would be able to do. He could fuck you hard if he wanted. But softly? He was allowed to do that as well, and it didn't make him any less of a villain.

Placing his hand on your lower back, he turned and sat up, flipping you onto your back on the couch. "Can I finger you?"

Your pupils dilated, large and dark with want. "Please." He wished he wasn't wearing his stupid gloves, that way he could decay your shorts and underwear off for quicker access. He wished he could control his quirk better. He wished a lot of things. He let you unbutton them, helping you tug them down and off the rest of the way.

"Someone's impatient," you laughed, breathy, as you spread your legs, bent at the knee.

He felt his face flush even further, if that was possible. "Shut up."

Slowly, he slid his ring finger over your folds, relinquishing in the way you shuddered from the touch, not from fear of him, but out of anticipation. Desire. A craving only he could satisfy. He licked his dry, cracking lips, smiling as he slowly slid his ring finger in all the way, coating it in a wetness that clung to his skin. He didn't know it'd be so.. soft. Warm.

His middle finger, clad in the fabric of his glove, went in next. You opened so easily, evidence of your arousal. Arousal for him. He felt his dick twitch in his pants. Curling his fingers up, he felt a small sense of pride course through him at the way you gasped. He pistoned his fingers in and out, focused on on your sweet spot, a wet, squelching noise filling his ears, combined with your soft moans and keens. Just for him. Because of him.

He grinned as your whines increased in pitch and frequency, your hands coming up to pull him down into a kiss as you tightened around his fingers as you came.

He made sure to get condoms on the next supply run.

It was a miracle you both were able to find a mattress that wasn't piss or blood-soaked, covered in questionable stains, or torn in the middle. The two of you managed to sequester some time alone, adding onto the list of current miracles leading to this moment.

Shaking, Tomura's hands wrapped around the condom, the lubrication from it wetting and sticking to his palm and fingers as he unrolled it over his length. A million thoughts raced through his head. What if his dick was too small? What if you thought it was ugly? Could a dick be ugly?

You were patiently watching him from on the bed, legs bent to the side. From the way your eyes widened when he stripped off his t-shirt and kicked his pants and boxers aside, he supposed he could toss the "small" and "ugly" insecurity in the trash. There was an obvious air of lust and affection in your gaze as your eyes traversed the planes of his body. He bristled, feeling undeserving of your gaze.

"Do you have to watch me so intently?"

You laughed at how his embarrassment only reddened him further. "I can look away if you want," the smile on your lips turned playful, mirth glinting in your eye. His brow furrowed as he was certain whatever words came next were meant to embarrass him further.

"But you have a pretty dick, so I'll keep watching if you don't mind."

"Shut up," he groaned despite his own smile as he lightly pushed you to lie back on the bed, your laughter singing in his ears before silenced by his lips on yours. His cock, hot and heavy, tapped against the plane of your stomach as he crawled over you, caging your body in with his.

He felt a smug sense of satisfaction as he pinched your nipple with one hand, making you gasp into his mouth. "You're the pretty one."

Separating for air, he sat up, leaning back on his calves. Your cunt was covered in a sheer layer of your arousal, pretty and flushed. Sliding his fingers in just like before, he scissored them against your soaked walls, stretching you out in preparation. Once sufficiently stretched, he lined the head of his cock up to your entrance. Slowly, he thrust in with a low groan, eyes rolling back. You were somehow warmer, tighter around his length than his fingers. You gasped, fisting the blanket underneath you as he pushed in, inch by inch, until he bottomed out.

He looked down at where the two of you connected, blue tufts of hair trailing down to the shaft of his cock, swallowed by your tight hole.

"It's, uh-," Tomura panted, face strained from behind the light blue strands of hair that curtained off the planes of his cheeks, "-a lot tighter than expected."

He looked ethereal like this, a flushed, peachy hue painting his skin down to his bare chest. "Yeah," you sighed, pushing his hair behind his ears. "Take your time. I need a second, too."

Your thumb traced over the planes of his face, over the rough texture of the scar on his lip. His hips jerked as he kissed your thumb, leaning down to kiss your lips, gloved hands creating waves over the blankets like sand dunes in a desert.

For a moment he lingered, lost in the saccharine taste of your tongue and the syrupy wetness between your legs as your walls pulsed and clenched around his dick, the vibrations of your moans making his lips tingle. All the porn in the world wouldn’t have prepared him for how tender and warm this felt, the soft expanse of your thighs grounding him and keeping him close.

Slowly he began to move his hips, relishing in the way your sex gripped his cock, the friction of your pussy against every vein and nerve slowing and streamlining his thoughts to follow one command: faster.

His hips sped up, chasing the friction his nerves so desired. He became enraptured by your face- every twitch between your brows, every noise or whimper you made, the way your face contorted when he hit just the right spot. He felt high off it, the expanse of your pleasure evident from every ridge and valley of your face, contorted and shifting with every moan. Chasing the high, he shifted the angle of his hips, your moans increasing in pitch as one hand grasped at the base of his neck, gently tugging at the hairs at his nape, the other rubbing circles into your clit.

"Please—you're so good, you feel so good—" you gasped, voice coming out choked around every thrust. His brain lagged from the praise, a brief stutter in his hips as his thoughts clipped through his head.

"Can you get on top."

"Yeah," you laughed, breathy with amusement at his reaction. Flipping over, you sunk down on his length, somehow deeper than he was before, with a low groan. "Oh fuck." Slowly you began to move your hips, grinding your swollen, puffy clit over the whispy hairs leading down to his shaft, an arousal and slickness that mixed between the two of you leaking down onto his skin. He wished he could feel it on his cock, how sticky and wet you were as you surrounded him. He bet it felt perfect.

His hands grasped around your hips as you rode him, face flushed and sweaty, chest and beading with droplets of sweat. From this angle, his dick was hitting the perfect spot, making you see stars. A tightness in your belly grew as you increased your pace, riding him with a fervor as you approached your orgasm. You stilled as your pussy fluttered around him, tightening as you unraveled. He was close before, but as you tightened, the dam broke. With a final thrust, he spilled hot bursts of cum into the condom, his grip tight around your soft hips.

You slumped against him, bare tits pressed into his chest, forehead nestled into the crook of his neck. A wave of calm serenity washed over him as he pressed a kiss into your hairline, lightly muscled arms wrapping snug around your back.

You sighed, content, mumbling into his neck.

"I love you."

He felt his dick twitch from where it still lay inside you. "We're doing that again later."

(≧◡≦)(≧◡≦)

surrender to me

Thinking about how utterly humiliating it'd be to be forced to ride your yandere-

Tw: non-con, dub-con, extreme feelings of guilt and shame, reader is an active participant in their own assault 

--------------------------------------- 

It's bad enough when he pins you down to whatever surface is nearby, taking whatever he wants from you, forcing you to take whatever he gives you. It's bad enough that you're helpless to his advances, that he can so easily overpower you, use you like his own personal toy. It's bad enough that he fucks you so good, hitting that spot that has you nearly screaming, keeping up the relentless pace until your legs shake, and making sure you always cum at least once, though he always always tries for more.

It's worse when he pulls you on top of him. At least when you're underneath him you can say it's not your fault, that you have no hand in what happens to you.

But now, as you straddle his waist, his cock buried deep inside you, he tells you to "ride me, come on, just the way you like it" you feel shame wash over you. He's your kidnapper, he took everything from you, and now he wants you to be an active participant in your torment. Everything in your rebels against the idea, tells you to fight it, to hold onto your pride at any and all costs. But it's not like you have a choice, you know what disobeying him means- you've faced too many punishments to risk another.

Shame eats at you as you begin to move, hesitant and humiliated, but unwilling to disobey. You rock your hips, trying not to shutter with every drag of his length along your walls. You're so wet for him and you know he can tell. You close your eyes, you don't want to see the way he's looking at you, can't bare to see the adoration in his eyes when you fuck yourself on his cock and he can't help but whisper that you're "such a good girl for me".

You hate that it feels good, that even your leisurely pace is making you bite back moans and fight the urge to ride him harder, to make yourself cum, and to feel him cum too. He grabs your hips, guiding you to pick up the pace a little, and you curse that he knows exactly what you like. He knows just how to guide your movements to make you tremble and whimper as he fucks you, he knows exactly what will have you moaning and gushing around him. He knows exactly how to make you his perfect little whore.

It's too much- the absolute misery of the situation is more than you can bear. You're riding your kidnapper, moaning and crying out for him, feeling your orgasm creep up on you too fast. It’s humiliating in a way that nothing else can compare to, nothing he’s ever done to you has been quite so potently horrid. 

You can't tell if he's still forcing your hips into the rhythm or if you've given into it, can't really tell if he's thrusting up into you or if your just bouncing on his cock that hard- but you're so close, and he feels so good inside you, and you want to cum so bad. You should be fighting this, but you’re not. You’re rocking your hips against his and whining his name and begging for more. 

"Gonna cum?" He asks, voice a little bit teasing but mostly breathless at the way you move above him and the way you feel around him. He tells you all the time that he loves you, that you belong to him, that he’d do anything to keep you all to himself. In moments like this, it’s easy to believe that. You nod, desperate for release. "Go on, then,” he encourages, moving his hips against yours to meet you halfway as you move. 

You do- with a desperate cry of his name you feel your orgasm wash over you, crashing down on you and you can think of nothing else but his length filling you up, hitting so deep inside you and stretching you out so wide. It's so dirty; knowing you threw away all your morality and pride for this- you let yourself be used by man you should hate just so you could get off, you practically begged him for it. 

Because no matter how your mind tries to convince itself this isn't what you want, your body knows this is exactly what you want. 

---------------------------

This is fucking delicious!!!!!!

Cowboys

Ellie x reader (for now)

summary: A stranger comes to your door- it turns out it's not one of your usual encounters cw: guns, cowboy lingo, fem! reader, cowboy crossdresser Ellie, eventual smut, blood, injuries, your average confusing lesbianism, eventual smut, no use of y/n wc: 3.6k

for those who prefer ao3 <3 gotchu minors DNI (I will steal all you pillowcases)

LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE l DAILY CLICK

Nothing could beat the beauty of the sunset in the desert. Purples, blues, oranges, and yellows swirled together to paint a new masterpiece every night. And every night you would sit on your small, wooden porch with a cup of tea and watch as the sun slowly sinks into the horizon. Tonight was no exception. 

The sky becomes darker and darker until the moon and the stars come out, bathing the desert in a silver light. You struggle with the stubborn, old front door for a moment before you step into your little ranch house.

A chill runs through you as the temperature outside rapidly declines. You kneel in front of the fireplace and use the little kindling you have for a fire. It was enough to keep you warm for a few hours while you read yourself to sleep. Sometimes you felt lucky that it was a small enough house that the small fire would warm up the whole place. Your bed was just a few paces away from the mantle. 

You stand up and dust off your hands before starting to undress for bed. As you begin to unbutton your bodice a knock sounds from the front door. 

You scramble for your rifle by your bedside and check to make sure it’s loaded. You peek through one of your front windows to catch a glimpse of the mysterious stranger. At this hour and on the edge of town, your visitors weren’t usually friendly. 

It seems a cowboy has paid you a visit this evening. Haven’t seen one of those in a damn long time. A gun is proudly holstered on his hip next to a lasso, and his black large-brimmed hat keeps his face dark enough that you can’t quite make it out. 

He knocks again, louder. You creep up to the front door and slowly open it. Before he can process who opened the door you aim your rifle right at his chest. 

“Hands up.” You demand, your voice is surprisingly steady. 

“Woah there, I just stopped to ask for some directions.” A deep, yet feminine voice replies. It sounds like she was all too sure you weren’t going to be using that weapon on her, she didn’t even bother to move. You cock the gun, trying like hell to keep your expression blank, unphased while your entire body fills with adrenaline. She takes a step back and puts her hands up. Her hat still covers her face in shadow, it’s like confronting a ghost. 

“You should have stopped somewhere else.” You take a step towards her, closing the door behind you while keeping your vision trained on the woman. 

“You’re much different than the other women I’ve run into out here.” She looks up slightly, the moonlight illuminating pink, slightly chapped lips forming a smug smirk. “Where’s your husband, miss?”

“I swear if you don’t get back on your goddamn horse I’ll put a hole right through your chest.” she steps towards you, the muzzle of the gun pokes right under her collarbone. 

She finally looks at you, silver light exposes a sharp, feminine face dotted with freckles darkened by days in the sun. The sight of her face catches you off guard for just enough time, allowing her to grab the barrel of the rifle and pull it right out of your hands. She drops the gun and it clatters loudly to the ground, echoing through the empty desert landscape. She grabs your wrists before you can start fighting back and pins them above your head against the door with one hand. 

“There,” she grunts as you struggle against her grip, she’s surprisingly strong, “now we can have a conversation.” 

“Go to Hell.” You say, seething with rage and frustration because she was able to overpower you so easily. She shakes her head and laughs for a moment, saying something under her breath like all this trouble. 

You were just about to spit in her face when she said, “Where’s the nearest hotel darlin’?” Your eyes widen at the innocent question, slightly embarrassed. This was a first, she really just needed directions. She uses your stunned silence to talk some more, “I’ve been savin’ up so I could have a bed for the night. And I could really really use a bed tonight, miss.” You stop struggling against her grip and she lets go. She still has that stupid smirk on her face. “So if you could point me in the right direction it would be much appreciated.” 

“Head southwest, you’ll hit a trail that will lead you right into town.” You dust off your dress and straighten it out. 

“Much appreciated, darlin’.” She tips her hat and walks off toward her horse. You watch in shock as she mounts her horse and before riding away she says just loud enough, “I’ll be seein’ you.” And with a nod, she was off. 

You slowly bend down to pick up the Winchester, cradling it against your chest as you watch the stranger disappear into the night. As you head inside you wonder if you ever will see that strange woman again, and fall asleep debating whether or not you would want to.

**  **

The next morning you head to the school house. The steady feeling and sound of your horse trotting along the dirt path always forced your mind to wander elsewhere. Right now you couldn’t stop thinking about the woman from last night. The schoolhouse was right in the middle of town, would you see her again? Would she even recognize you? If she did, would she even try to talk to you?

The interaction was a bit embarrassing for you, but to be fair you had your fair share of vile men looking for trouble and hostile groups of Apache knocking on your front door. Your father had taught you how to use his Winchester rifle, the very same rifle you use now, and you mentally thanked him for it every night. You had only used it to kill one man, he wouldn’t take no for an answer and you gave him plenty of warnings. He didn’t believe your threats so now he was buried about 500 feet from the house in an unmarked grave, you were sure no one would miss a man like that. Most of the time the Apache would just come to ask questions about men passing through the area, they never tried to attack you, thankfully, but they would always come at the most ungodly hours and were quite impatient. 

Last night was a first, you had never had a cowboy knock at your door, and then she ended up being a woman. The idea of her was so intriguing and you couldn’t figure out why. For some reason, she shook you more than anyone else had since you lived out here. And you’d seen quite a lot.  

Your thoughts are interrupted as you reach town, the sound of rickety carriages, hooves against the packed dirt road, and the chatter of men in front of the Sheriff’s Office make it hard to focus. 

“Hello there, sunshine!” you hear a male voice call out. You turn towards the voice to see Jesse making his way past you on horseback, lugging today's newspapers to the apothecary. He made the trip from Sante Fe every morning. He was nice enough, you liked talking to him, but not as much as you felt like you should. The ladies at the apothecary, Dina, and Maria, would always encourage you to talk to him. They desperately wanted you to move on from your husband. He was long gone and you knew that, you were even thankful for it, which is why you were nervous to start again. You didn’t want to have to go through anything like that again. 

You wave back and smile, “Hi there, Jesse.” You decide to be polite, “Hear anything good today?” He tightens the reins of his horse and stops right next to you. 

“They struck gold in Elizabethtown, and there’s gonna be a shortage of tobacco ‘round these parts within the week because of a dust storm over in Tennessee.”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll have a panic on their hands pretty soon then. I don’t know a man here who can live without their cigars.” You smile and Jesse laughs politely at your attempt at a joke. 

“Alright, don’t want the kids to show up before I do, I'd best be headin’ to the school.” You yearned to leave this awkward conversation through any means possible. Today was not the day for small talk. 

“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow then, miss.” Your head snaps towards Jesse. You’re suddenly transported to last night and listening to the way the cowboy’s words would drip from her lips, smooth as honey “Miss”. Calm and sure even with a gun pointed right to her heart. 

You quickly snap out of it and nod politely at Jesse as you begin to part ways. You head to the schoolhouse in a hurry, the kids gave you hell if you were late. 

** **

You’re beginning to lock up the schoolhouse when you hear footsteps approaching. “Well hello there, miss.” You recognize the voice all too quickly, you don’t even need to turn around. “Was really hopin’ I’d find you here.” 

As you fish into your pocket for the key you respond, “And how exactly did you find me here?” you turn around and begin to walk past her toward your horse. She follows you. From a brief glance at her, you can see she wears a bandana to cover her face, you could only see her eyes. “You don’t even know my name.”

“I just asked those nice ladies at the apothecary if they knew the women who lived just outside of town, they were more than happy a “nice gentleman” took interest in you. They told me just about everything they knew, your name, some snippets of gossip. I’m sure if I stayed they would’ve told me your life story” You finally turn to face her, your expression unamused. She took her hat off at some point when she was talking to you, her eyes are green, radiant in the unrelenting desert sunlight. You were almost jealous. She wore a dark blue button-down that sat surprisingly flat against her chest and suspenders. She could pass for a man if she wanted to. “So, I take it you don’t have a husband then?” 

“What’s it to you?” you cross your arms, defensively.

“I was just curious, I asked last night, but you weren’t exactly in a talking mood.” You swear you can make out her smirk under the bandana. 

“No, I haven’t had a husband for quite a while. Is that what you came all the way here to ask me?” She lowers her bandana and steps towards you, backing you into your horse. 

“No, I came to ask a favor.” She hesitates for a moment, “No one here can know that I’m, um, well you know..”

“A woman?” pretty easy to piece together after seeing the bandana. 

“Yea,” She backs away from you a little. Seems like someone is embarrassed to ask a favor. “It’s just easier for me to get things this way and it’s lookin’ like I’ll be staying later than I planned so..” 

“Alright, I won’t say anything.” She opens her mouth to begin to thank you, but you weren’t about to let an opportunity like this pass you by. “But, you owe me a favor then.”

Her excited expression disappeared as quickly as it came, if you weren’t looking you could have missed it, “Um, alright, what do ya need?” 

“You know your little visit last night?” You had been cooking this proposition up all day, hoping she would run into you again. 

“Yes.”

“Well, that happens to me about every other day. I don’t want a husband, but I do need a guard dog of some kind.” You didn’t want a man in your home, but you did want the protection of one, this was the perfect opportunity, almost too perfect. 

“A guard dog?” She seems mildly offended by you comparing her to a dog.

“I’m tired of not being able to sleep because of surprise visitors. And I’ll pay you in two square meals a day, tea, and my homemade moonshine.” She does not look amused. “And I won’t tell anyone you’re a lady.”

“I don’t know-”

“I know you’re almost out of money, I’m sure Tommy is bleeding you dry as an outside visitor. I won’t charge you anything.” Something in her loosens, you can see it.

“So do I sleep on your floor?”

“Or outside if you’d like, makes no difference to me. There’s a fire pit out there for ya” You turn around and mount your horse, eager to get home. “We got a deal?” You reach your hand down towards her. She hesitates before shaking it. 

“I’m Ellie by the way.” You nod

“Alright Ellie, I’ll see you at my house then. I trust you’re familiar with the address” She just nods, slightly shocked. You smile and then head off, the comforting sound of hoofbeats clearing the thoughts in your head. On the way home you tend to just listen to the sounds of the desert. After a day of loud, squealing children it was healing. You’re sure you’d go crazy if you lived in town. 

** **

You had just finished making your evening tea when you heard a knock on your door. For the first time in a long time, you don’t go into fight or flight mode. You open the door with a smile, part of you is surprised she even showed up. Your proposition was a little ridiculous, but that truly shows how desperate you are. 

“Hello there stranger.” You are really pushing it with this attitude, you can tell, but something in you likes it when she gets annoyed. 

“Hi.” She takes off her hat and lowers her bandana, something you’ve observed as a habit of hers, one of respect possibly. “So am I sleepin’ with the rattlesnakes or on your floor?” 

“You get bit by a rattlesnake come to me and I’ll suck the venom out myself. Until then you best set up camp before dark darlin’.” You smile at her sweetly. 

“Figured as much.” She smirks and walks away to set up camp.

“Dinner’ll be ready in 20 minutes. I hope ya like stew.” You call out to her. “Oh, and there’s a spring out back if you need any water!” 

** **

The stew finally thickens up to the way you like it, you pour it into two bowls and quickly slurp up your serving. Didn’t taste amazing, but it was food. 

You open your front door to bring Ellie her food and see that she’s already started a fire, she’s sipping from a silver flask just staring at the flames. 

You approach and wordlessly hand her a bowl of stew and a spoon. She looks up at you “You gonna eat?” 

“No, I- uh already ate.” More like inhaled but she didn’t need to know that. You point at her flask. “What’s in there?” 

“You’re tellin’ me you don’t know what’s in here?” She raises her eyebrows.

“I know it’s liquor, Ellie, I’m just askin’ what kind.” Her confused expression drops.

“Whiskey.” She looks at the flask in her hand, then at you. “Want some?” She clearly did not want to offer it to you. But you sit down next to her and reach your hand out for it. 

“Hand it over.” She hands you the flask. The metal was cool to the touch, almost shocking after the desert heat all day. You take a sip and the liquor burns its way down your throat, and your face scrunches a little. You were used to shooting whiskey, but this was particularly terrible, even worse than your moonshine. “Wow, that’s pretty awful.”

Ellie laughs between bites of stew, “You’re stew isn’t the greatest thing I’ve tasted either.”

“Hey!” You lightly punch her shoulder. She giggles even more. “You’re welcome for the food by the way.” You take another swig of whiskey and then hand the flask back to the cowgirl. 

“Thank you,” she takes the flask, “for the meal.” she hands you her empty bowl. “And a place to stay, even if it’s outside.” 

“We’ll see, maybe you’ll earn your way inside.” You take her bowl and turn to head inside. 

“Is that a challenge?” She calls after you. 

“Maybe.” You call back. 

You step inside and immediately undress for bed, the whiskey making your eyes droop closed. You can barely get your buttons undone before you fall into bed, for the first time in a while, not having to worry about dangerous strangers knocking down your door.  

** **

You wake up to a hasty knock coming from the front door. It’s still dark outside. You weren’t supposed to have to deal with this anymore. You grab your rifle and don’t even bother checking who is at the door simply out of annoyance. Would have bit you in the ass later if it was a surprise visitor. You open the door and cock the rifle. To your astonishment, you open the door to Ellie, holding her side. There’s a dark stain forming under her hands, her face is bloody and bruised. And yet she’s got a smug yet pained smile on her face. “This how you’re always gonna greet me?” 

“Jesus Ellie,” you usher her inside quickly. “What happened?” 

“You got some visitors, a group of Apache men.” She sits down in one of your wooden dining room chairs. You rush over to grab the small medical kit you had managed to fashion over the years. “They wanted to see you in particular, when I told them you weren’t accepting visitors they sort of attacked me. It was one versus six” 

“They don’t trust many people.” You undo Ellie’s suspenders and begin unbuttoning her shirt without even thinking. “Most folks round here shoot first and ask questions later, they don’t have any respect or patience for a stubborn cowboy.” You walk over, grab a candle and some matches, and light it so you can see. “Can’t say I blame them. I am sorry though I’d thought they’d see your gun and back off” 

“That is real optimistic of ya.” You remove her right arm from the sleeve of her shirt. She is wearing some sort of binding around her chest- so that’s how she’s managed to pass for a man. 

“Wow, that’s a big word for you.” You smirk at her as you clean your hands with some moonshine. 

“Really? I’m bleedin’ out and you’re making fun of me?” You press gauze to her wound, she hisses through her teeth. 

“Please, you’re not bleeding out. Shouldn’t even need stitches, just some cleaning and dressing.” You look up at her, you’re not quite sure, but even in the dim candlelight, you could swear she was blushing. You wouldn’t dare mention it when she’s already made herself so vulnerable. 

“Now for the hard part.” You take out a small bottle of vinegar. 

“Alright.” Ellie leans back in the chair, ready for the sting of the vinegar. 

“Here.” You take her left hand and place it on your shoulder. “Squeeze if you need to.” She nods and you take that as your cue to begin. You pour the vinegar on the wound and you watch as her abs contract, her hand squeezes your shoulder, pretty hard, but you know she was trying not to hurt you, even in pain. 

You stand up and gently wrap a few layers of gauze around her mid-section, just in case it starts bleeding again during the night. You were so, so close to her, you could feel the heat radiating from her skin. “You always wear that?” 

“Wear what?”

“The-the bandages, round your chest.” She looks down at them like she almost forgot they were there. Suddenly you realize how personal that question must be. “Sorry, I shouldn’t said anything. You don’t have to answer” 

“No, It’s alright. I don’t mind. Yes, I’ve worn this for a while now, easier to get around when you look like a man.” You nod and finish wrapping the gauze around her and pin it in place. You put a bit of vinegar on a piece of gauze and begin cleaning the cuts on her face. “Oh, you don’t need to do that, miss.”

“Please just let me clean off your face. Were you planning on walkin’ around town tomorrow with dried blood on your cheeks?” She opens her mouth to say something but closes it. She’s quiet as you gently clean her face, you can see every freckle, every scar, her eyes shining in the candlelight. It was odd being this close to her. You had never felt comfortable being this physically close to someone. Her warmth almost invited you in, made you want to press your nose to her neck, run your hands across her skin, feeling along all the freckles and scars, memorizing the spot of each one. you wanted to know her in a way you have never wanted to know anybody else.

“Hey,” a gentle voice grounds you back into reality. “I think my face is clean.” She smiles softly. She was right, at some point, you had gotten her face completely clean, you’re not sure how long she let you drag the cloth across her freckled cheeks before she said something. 

“Yeah, sorry.” You back away and put the blood-soaked gauze in the burn pile. “You should sleep in here. Don’t think anyone else will be coming tonight. I’ll go get your bedroll.” Ellie just nods and you go out to grab her things. 

You hurry back and set up her bedroll on the floor right next to your bed. She makes her way to it and sits down on the floor with a thud, careful to not contort her body in a way that could re-open the wound. She collapses onto the wool blankets. When you’re sure she’s settled you place your rifle back next to your bed and fall into your mattress, knowing you’ll be exhausted tomorrow.

lmk what you think! Likes, comments and reblogs always appreciated!

LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE l DAILY CLICK

I someone to put me in my place ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

How would the boys react to you having bratty attitude sorry if u have done this before

Technically, I did have someone send in something similar (which y'all can read HERE) but there is a distinct difference between the asks. But also, whenever any of y'all leave the prompt a bit open-ended, I will always allow myself to ignore my self-control and just go for unhinged spice. So, yes. Attitudes are dealt with...enjoy!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: bratting, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, dom/sub dynamics, swearing, punishment, sex toys, overstimulation, collaring

Word Count: 1.3k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Please, John. No more. I can’t.”

Your body trembles, wanting release but not receiving it. John moves the vibrator up and down your pussy, purposefully avoiding your clit or penetrating you with it. Somehow, you are overstimulated and yet entirely unsatisfied.

It was just a bit of bratting—a bit of fun. Goddamn him for making you regret it.

“Told you what the punishment would be. I was very clear, love,” murmurs John. He teasingly brings the vibrator up to your clit, allowing it to stimulate those nerves for a few seconds of perfect bliss before turning it off.

You whimper, hips bucking, wanting more. John tuts and taps the vibrator against your lips. It’s sticky with your slickness, and you obediently open your mouth. He slides it inside just enough to not choke you, but enough for you to clean some of yourself off of it.

Dipping his head, John lightly grazes your nipple with his teeth. It sends a sharp pang through you, only adding to the unfulfilled desire. Removing the vibrator from your mouth, he clicks it back on, running it up and down your body.

“I listed every possible punishment. We agreed that I would choose. And this is what I’ve chosen,” he says calmly, bringing it down to your pussy again.

“I hate it,” you moan, trying to angle your hips enough so that the device might make contact.

“Use your safe word if you have to, love.”

You keep your mouth shut.

John smiles against your skin. “Thought so.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Feel good?” You nod. “Not too tight?” asks Kyle.

“It’s fine.”

He tilts his head, lips slightly pursed. “Let’s try it out.”

“Try it out?”

The collar buzzes, vibrating against your skin. “Jesus fucking Christ. What was that?”

“Did it hurt?”

“No,” you reply, confused. “Just—weird.”

Kyle grins. “Perfect.”

“Perfect? What is this?”

“Your punishment,” responds Kyle.

“My—oh.”

Oh, yes. The bratting from yesterday. The attitude and pushback you flaunted around all day because it felt good and you thought you could get away with.

Kyle drops onto the sofa and lightly taps the cushion next to him. You obediently sit, the fabric scratching against your bare ass. Now you understand why you’re naked.

“For the rest of the day, you have to get my permission to do anything.”

“Do I have permission to talk?”

“Only if it’s to ask me for something.”

You roll your eyes. “What about breathing?”

“This is what I’m talking about,” says Kyle. “That attitude.”

He’s right. This is the exact thing that has you in trouble with him in the first place. But if you’re going to be stuck like this on the sofa, you need something to drink.

Swallowing down your pride, you glance at Kyle. “May I please go to the kitchen?”

Kyle nods. “You may.”

You stand, and the buzzer in the collar goes off. Instinct as you turning to tell him off but Kyle is already talking. “Didn’t give you permission to stand.”

This fucking asshole.

“May I please—”

Buzz.

“Kyle—”

Buzz.

“What the fuck!”

“You’re still standing,” he says calmly.

You throw yourself back down onto the couch and, with a hint of a growl, say, “May I please stand?”

Kyle licks his lips. “Course you can, love.”

“Thank you,” you mutter, standing.

You make it three steps before the buzzer goes off again. Halting, you turn, and Kyle makes a gesture with his arms like he’s walking. You’re going to murder him after this.

“Do I have your permission to walk to the kitchen?”

Kyle grins, and nods.

Two minutes in and you’re already losing your mind.

You don’t walk to the kitchen. You stomp.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny taps his phone screen with his thumb. The clitoral suction stimulator toy starts up again immediately. Every muscle within you viscerally reacts. The sharp clench causes your body to jerk in Johnny’s arms, but there is nowhere to go.

His thick, muscled arms keep you pinned against him and the bed. Your legs are spread wide, open to the bedroom, his knees forcing them apart. Between your legs is the suction toy, vibrating away, pulsing little bursts of air outward that feel like Johnny has his mouth on your clit and not a device. Johnny’s cock sits inside you to the hilt. He does not fuck you. His hips remain still as yours flex and rock, wanting to escape from the overstimulation but hardly moving at all.

“Thought I’d reward you for being a brat?” he murmurs against your ear.

Johnny taps the phone screen again and the toy’s suction shifts to a different rhythm. Your pussy clenches down on his cock and Johnny grunts.

You have no idea how many orgasms you’ve had. Johnny keeps forcing them out of you, one after the other. Sweat drenches your brow and the back of your neck.

“Please,” you whimper.

“Please, what?” prompts Johnny, adjusting the toy slightly.

The orgasm is ripped from you. It’s almost violent the way you cry out, fingers digging into his thigh and the bedsheets.

Another tap and the toy clicks off.

“Love,” he whispers, lightly rocking his hips, cock sliding in and out of you languidly. “You didn’t answer me.”

Just as you open your mouth to answer, Johnny taps the screen again. The stimulator turns on and your mind bends backwards, falling into a whirlwind of lust.

All you did was give him a bit of attitude—a bit of bratty banter. You expected Johnny to spank you or even bend you over the nearest surface and fuck your brains out. But this?

This is punishment.

“Guess I’ll keep going, love,” muses Johnny, clearly enjoying this. “Until you find your words.” He lowers his voice. “You had plenty to say earlier.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

A punishment is brewing. You feel it like an innate instinct. Simon’s been simmering all day, bubbling like a witch’s cauldron. Whenever he gets like this, you know when you walk through the door, he’ll be on you, deliciously torturing you until you’re completely spent.

Sometimes it’s good to be bratty—to push back against the things he tells you to do even if they are good for you.

Did you eat breakfast this morning?

Drink some water.

Do the chores you’re supposed to do.

Complete those errands.

You’re independent. You’re an adult. But having Simon tell you what needs done just to do the opposite is a euphoric rush. Bratting is just a game. A bit of fun. There are really no stakes here, just an outlet for your attitude and a need to be playful.

“You’re late,” says Simon, checking his watch as you walk through the door. “You were supposed to be home an hour ago.”

“The time got away from me,” you shrug, depositing your purse and keys on the sofa and not in the designated spot near the front door.

Simon crosses his arms over his chest, observing you quietly for a few seconds before speaking. “Have something for you.” You eagerly follow him into the kitchen. “Sit,” he says, pointing to the kitchen table.

You drop into it, knowing that you’re about to get exactly what you want. Simon disappears for a full minute before returning. He sets a piece of lined paper down in front of you. You glance up at him, confused.

“What’s this?”

Instead of answering your question verbally, he places a pencil on top of it.

“Simon,” you probe.

“I want you to write ‘I will do as my dom says’ over and over until you fill up every line.”

You balk, as Simon takes a step back. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s perfectly fair,” shrugs Simon. “Think I was going to spank you? This is punishment. Do as your told and maybe I’ll give you a treat.”

“Simon,” you protest, watching him go. “Simon!”

He simply waves. “Don’t make me get the handcuffs.”

“Fucker,” you mutter, picking up the pencil.

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This is delicious ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

HORNY BRAINROT.

☆ includes: aged up! various characters from bnha

☆ warnings: 18+ content, reader is gn or fem depending on the scenario, drug use (weed & alcohol), somnophilia (consent given prior!!), nsfw. not proofread

thinking of izuku coming back home after a long day at the agency; he bends you over the kitchen table you were both about to eat on, and he skips dinner and goes in for dessert between your thighs.

sucking on eijirou’s cock desperately while he pushes your head down and tells you to take it. when he gets close, he yanks your head off him and you switch to jerking him off, your eyes closing as his cum sprays on your face. he groans loudly when you sweep your fingers across your wet skin and then suck on them, looking up at him innocently.

always a lover of public sex, dabi fucks you in alleyways, on rooftops, behind cars at night, and all across the city. he especially enjoys taking you from behind, your back pressed against his chest and his hand wrapped around your throat — he often fucks you like this in sight of the sky during the #2 hero’s patrols.

sometimes hitoshi can’t sleep, so he gently pulls the blankets away from your sleeping figure, admiring you in the dark. he’ll kiss your tummy, hips, and pelvis, then peel away your underwear, his tongue rushing to taste the sweetness between your folds. when you cum, you moan as though you’re in a dream, rarely waking up — occasionally he’ll make you cum so hard you wake up gasping his name.

keigo finds himself feeling overwhelmed when you ride him, his eyes rolling back and his entire body shaking each time he sees your greedy pussy swallow the whole length of his cock. as he unravels more and more, his wings represent how he feels with their wild movements. when he cums loudly, his wings rush in, wrapping around the both of you, pulling you close to him.

despite his shy demeanor, tamaki is a FREAK. he’ll have you sit in a chair, blindfolded, limbs tied to the back and the legs. then, he’ll tease you with kisses and touches, lightly slapping your thighs if you try to pull free to touch him. after a long while, he’ll spread your pussy open and spit onto your clit, then tease you further.

speaking of spitting, katsuki enjoys spitting into your pussy as well, or making you spit onto his cock to lube it up for sex or jerking him off.

i offer u: denki + hanta tag team. hanta’s on his back, your back is on his chest, his cock is stretching out your ass. while he’s thrusting up into your ass and holding you close, denki’s fucking in and out of your pussy with his overstimulated cock. his cum drips from your cunt and trickles down hanta’s cock, adding more lubrication. a threesome with these two would be insane because they would try out every position and cum once from it before stopping.

despite hating it when you edge him, shoto loves it. he’ll sigh shakily, hissing out, “ah— god, make me cum already, stop fucking with me!” but when you let him get real close, he begs you to stop and edge him. it’s confusing but ultimately he enjoys it, and always cries when he cums after edging.

drinking with katsuki always gets rowdy; he’ll show you off, get jealous more easily, and fuck you harder. after a night at the bar and way too many shots, he hops into an uber with you and heads to an expensive hotel instead of your home. katsuki books a big room, the one with the best view of the city and streets (it’s also 2-4 stories up from the lobby). when you get into the room, he practically rips your clothes off, pushing you against the big window overseeing the people and cars beneath. then, he fucks you right against the window, your tits pressed against the glass.

dry humping with eijirou in his agency office with an unlocked door, his hard cock rubbing against your pussy through layers and layers of clothing. when his precum is dripping through his underwear, and your panties are soaked with your slick, he removes whatever’s in the way, besides your underwear. when you start to get loud as his clothed cock creates more friction against you, he pulls off your wet underwear and stuffs them into your mouth, saying, “shh, baby. you have to be quiet, okay? don’t want any of the staff coming in, right?”

sharing a joint with keigo on the balcony of your shared apartment, plumes of smoke swirling around you as he spreads your legs. he always enjoys making out with your pussy before he eats you out, taking your folds and clit between his lips as he drags his tongue against you. he stares up at you with reddened eyes, desperate for your approving moans and facial expressions.

being fucked doggy style by izuku, either in your pussy or ass, as he praises you and your beautiful reflection in the mirror. “oh, you’re so gorgeous.. make me feel so damn lucky every time i look at you.” if you refuse to look, he leans over you, his pecs pressing into your upper back as he tugs your chin. he demands, “watch yourself cum” or “if you look away, i’ll stop pounding you”

shoto always cums within a few minutes of 69ing with you.. the way you desperately hump at his face and gobble down his cock always proves to be too damn much for him. he used to feel embarrassed, but now he just pushes through the overstimulation and adjusts you how he likes, slurping at your pussy loudly as you moan on his cock.

sexting with denki during his work hours, and sending him sneaky photos of your tits/ass/pussy when you know he’s busy. he’s always so quick to read your messages, and he rushes to the bathroom to hide his boner in a stall. he texts you to tell you what he’s gonna do to you, how desperate he is, or he’ll send mirror selfies, his hard cock visible through his pants.

phone sex with dabi, who easily makes you torture yourself. and god, does he sound good — he tells you what to do, rewarding you with his moans/groans or pictures. he’ll talk you through your orgasm, demanding that you keep fingering yourself or stop to ruin it. if you sob over his instructions, he’ll briefly reassure you, and then tell you to shut up and do what he says (he reminds you to be a good girl/slut or threatens to not fuck you).

god.. hitoshi loves filming you going dumb on his cock. most of the videos in his ‘us vids’ folder start off with him praising you as he moves the camera around your body, capturing every inch of you. “so pretty, god damn.” as the video progresses from gentle to rougher, his hand is wrapped around your neck, squeezing enough for you to gasp often. you’re a mess, babbling pleas as you cry his name, eyes rolling back and drool slipping from the corner of your mouth. by the time he’s cumming, you’re begging for him to fill you up, not a single other thought in your head. later, still filming, he thumbs away the saliva at the corner of your mouth; he kisses you and asks if you’re okay.

food play with tamaki, who eagerly gobbles strawberries off your tits, or the whipped cream designs all over your pelvis. even after your skin is free from all the sweetness or its residue, he licks you hungrily, then starts to bite hickeys into your skin. he blushes when you pinch one of his sensitive ears between your fingers and give it a tug — “tamaki, put your tongue to good use and eat me out.”

Just ✨perfect✨

Ghost sketch dump

This is a must have \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/(✿ ♥‿♥)(✿ ♥‿♥)

lovingly dominant

capt. john price

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/30s), size difference/kink, dom/sub dynamic, bdsm au, virgin!reader, light bdsm, praise (kink)

a/n: in a surprising twist, bunny has written call of duty again!! expect more cod stuff into december when the f1 season is over and it stops eating my brain <3

john price considered himself a little old fashioned. he thought it was better to have his birdie of the week on her back and rut into her until they both finished. he had no need for whips, chains, collars, and whatever else the world of bdsm had to offer.

but after so many missions and so many years, the pollution of combat bled into his sexual desires. he craved for control, near domination of his birdie. yes, they looked cute on their backs and their soft noises. but it looked far more appealing to keep her blindfolded, second guessing what was being done to her while price's filthy words spilled across her brain like wine on a white carpet. tainting her. tainting you.

most dominants loved a trained submissive. loved that they knew the ins and outs of the dynamic, tinkering to their liking. price on the other hand had a thing for over eager virgins. ones who got all their bdsm know-how from horribly written fan fiction. he liked to teach and guide, he liked to shape his submissive into the perfect image of what could be.

and when he met you, oh, well something else came up. an unwavering possessive need. price tried to not get possessive, this was all just a little game for sexual pleasure. but when he found out his little trainee worked at a flower shop, it was all over for him. it was only doubled down when you had your first meeting at a coffee shop and you got the most delicious looking slice of strawberry shortcake.

the cream on the corner of your mouth almost made john price lose resolve. instead he covered up with a cough before you asked, "do you want some, mister price." and who was john price to deny such a lovely girl her offer. you even fed it to him, a glimmer in your eye and gentle smile.

"it's lovely, baby girl." he said before he wiped a bit of the cream off his beard which made you giggle. that giggle seared into his brain and he knew that you weren't getting with any other man.

you met at his flat a few weeks later, and you were eager. price liked that. sex was only half as fun when the person he was fucking was almost having a good time. you came over in a big sweatshirt and jeans that were a little baggy, something that covered up. it made price curious as to what was hiding underneath.

"look beautiful, birdie." he said as he guided you inside and you got your sneakers off. you looked over at him to help you through the flat. you held onto him a little nervous, the only familiar thing in the place. price held you by the middle and let you press your face up against his strong chest.

he was in a flannel with a white undershirt and jeans. you could see the gold chain around his throat and the heavy chest hair. you had seen him naked from photos shared and he had seen you naked, but to feel it up close left a shiver of excitement through you. he leaned down and kissed you on the top of your head as he led you to the bedroom.

he said, "afterwards, i'll make ya some dinner. not the best chef, but, i can cook ya somethin' to replenish the energy you spent fucking me." he then ruffled your hair, which made your heart leap and he got you onto the bed.

you nodded meekly, you looked so small. so innocent. a girl like you should be on dated with finance guys or even the artsy kind. not a weathered, older military man like him. but even things in smaller packages can be surprising, just like when you took off your clothes and revealed a matching set of bra and panties. a soft grey colour with pastel yellow accents. it made price have to adjust himself in his jeans.

"ah, pretty girl got a surprise for me. how sweet?"

you nodded, "i wanted to make tonight special. good luck for a long... dynamic between us. so, you don't get rid of me if i suck." and soon you were in price's embrace while you still sat on the bed. your cheek pressed hard against his soft but firm middle.

he petted your head a little and said, "ah, don't worry, petal. even if you do bad tonight, i got every intention of trainin' ya. make you the perfect girl." the words spoken hit right to your core and when he pulled away long enough to strip down, you felt your eyes go wide for a moment.

a photo couldn't capture every inch of john price's skin. the scars, the tattoos, the hair, the muscle, the fat. he was like a big brown bear and it made you soaked. you shifted a little in your spot on the bed and rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. it was surprising that you were still a virgin, but you always chickened out. now as an adult, you wanted to just get it over with. but, you wanted to have fun. and why not have fun with a well experienced dom who wouldn't half-ass your first time. it didn't hurt that he had the kind of looks that would make any man with half a brain jealous.

"i hope i meet expectations." he chuckled as he put his hands on his hips. his cock stood at full attention and you swallowed. there was something so masculine about him, but not in a toxic way. he played with your hair once more before he patted your cheek, "no need to gawk, petal. i'm not goin' anywhere." and you swallowed. he chuckled before he got into bed with you and slowly unwrapped you of your lingerie like delicate christmas paper.

he hadn't been this excited to upwrap something since he got the toy firetruck as a kid. but in total fairness, you were hotter than any fire red truck. his hands grazed across your body with total tenderness and his hungry blue eyes gazed the skin.

the stretch marks, the moles, your own scarring. you were beautiful in ways that price couldn't describe. to compare you to something would be unfair to the thing being compared to your beauty. he took you by the wrist and kissed the center of it.

"this is a promise, petal. for as long as you keep me as your dominant and you my submissive, i with cherish you, adore you, and most of all. make sure that you cum over and over again." before he kissed you on the lips and got you onto your back. he admired you, "usually i like to take pretty things on their hands and knees. but, tonight's gotta be special, right, doll?"

you nodded.

he tapped your nose and said, "ah, ah, ah. that won't cut it. the words are 'yes, sir', got it? would hate to bruise that little behind during our first time."

you found your voice and said, "yes, sir." and was met with a rough pat on the cheek before price pulled away to rest on his knees to fuck you with just right. you felt heat course through your body as you took in the sight of him. burly, large from top to bottom.

course dark hair on his body, a little heft in his middle (but who didn't love that), a sparkle in his blue eyes, and hands large enough to break things between the digits. he admired you in return and said softly, "pretty little petal, yeah? ah, who let ya be so beautiful?" he chuckled as he rubbed his cock up against your slick sex, "i got so much to teach ya. how to tie ya up, how to gag ya properly. mmm, we'll have so much fun." he then pulled away to grab a condom from the nightstand. he held up the silver foil to you and said, "rule one, play safe or don't play at all."

you nodded and remembered to reply, "yes, sir."

price gave you a smile that lit you up and said, "good girl." then quickly got the condom on. he admired your soaked sex for a moment longer, "she achin' for me, huh? cute." then slowly, almost agonizingly, he inched into you and felt the spread of warmth through his body.

heaven was created with your pussy in mind. price was never a quick finisher, but he almost finished inside of you when he managed to get all of himself inside of you. he kept eyes and ears open, the type of examining done in his line of work, to make sure that you weren't in too much pain.

"ya alright?"

you nodded and swallowed.

price added, "baby girl. words." and then nodded his head when you replied that everything was okay, he nodded and said, "roger that." which made you pussy clench. a smile spread across price's face as he leaned forward. he captured your hands in his and pressed them to the bed under you. he chuckled lowly, "ah, someone likes a military man? a man in uniform gets ya goin'?" he kissed your pulse point, "ah, too cute, petal. i guess seeing that on my description didn't scare ya off." he rocked against you, "know it's a crime to mess up a man's uniform."

you swallowed, "sir. fuck." and felt the strike of heat through your body. you had to admit, you had seen a few photos of him in uniform. the beret, boots and all. and it made something turn in your stomach. only added an appeal to him that made you hot.

price replied, "i guess it worked out. because i like cute little civilians who are more than eager to make me feel good. doin' your civic duty makin' me cum, baby girl." these was a tension in his voice that made you heart hammer and your throat feel tight. the bed squeaked a little under the both of you as he continued his movements. he knew he was going to have an amazing time with you.

you whined, "please, sir."

"tell me. tell me what ya like about it? what gets my baby girl goin'? i gotta know, because maybe i can get somethin' together that'll rock your world." his words were hot and your cunt fluttered around his achy, hard cock. for a moment he was uncertain if you were actually a virgin, you took him so well.

you moaned when you felt a spark of pleasure in your core, your entire life had just been your hands and an assortment of toys. but to have price work your body beautifully was something else. you replied sweetly, "i... i want to thigh ride you in uniform." you felt a flush of embarrassment.

he chuckled, "oh that would be quite the sight, huh?" he continued to move against you beautifully, "i bet that i could make ya cum just from my thighs. rub your cunt all over it, messin' up the fabric. higher-ups will be wonderin' about the pussy stains all over the fabric. maybe if i'm lucky i'll get some of your wetness in my beard. let 'em smell you on me." and well, that excited you deeply.

you arched your back a little bit, but price kept you pinned perfectly under him. you tightened your thighs around him and he continued to work your body. it wasn't rough sex, but it also wasn't boringly soft either. he worked you at a steady pace, like a man with immense stamina. he eyed the bounce of your breasts and he moved against you.

he licked his lips at the sight of you, "baby girl." he purred, "you're a dirty girl. but don't worry." he soon held onto your wrists instead of your hands, a further act of domination, "i like 'em dirty. i like girls i can sink my teeth into. soon enough you won't be able to cum unless it's my fingers, tongue or cock in you. ya got the kind of soft skin that would bruise perfectly. but be careful, petal, i can be quite mean with a paddle." and it was met with a heavy moan. music to his ears.

you had never been spoken to like this before, but it excited you. you wanted to be price's dirty girl any day of the week. you felt excitement cross over you as he picked up the pace. the two of you fucked heavily and it left a taste of want in your mouth. this was better than anything you hoped for. it wasn't just that price checked boxes on a superficial level, he knew exactly how to make you squirm and moan. heavy noises came from your mouth as he worked your achy cunt, you felt amazing.

"ya like knowin' that i'm your first. big, scary captain makin' a mess of the sweetest cunt in the world. knowin' in a way, i got ya for life." he licked his lips. he liked that you were pure in that way, call him old fashioned. but knowing that he got to have you first was sort of like getting the first slice of cake at a party. something he wished to sweetly devour. and with you it was with heavy thrusts and filthy words. taint you to his liking.

you whined as you clenched your fists, you tensed up and he loved the feeling. he could almost read your mind with how sweet you felt. he could nearly feel your heartbeat as he fucked you. he loved the sight of you, you looked damn near perfect under him. you said between heavy pants, "please, sir. fuck, please!"

"feel good, petal? like how i take you." he moved against you further and it left him feeling the anticipation for climax. he continued to fuck your sweet body, working every last centimeter of warm skin, "remember, ya gotta ask me to cum."

his movements were overwhelming, his pace left you feeling breathless. and in your first lesson of intimacy, you croaked out, "can i cum, sir? please, i need to cum."

and price could be a giving man. he looked down at you, haze in those blue eyes as he said, "of course, baby girl. cum for me, cum for your captain." and swore under his breath as you beautifully came apart for him. he held onto your wrists tighter and groaned. it paired nicely with your sweet little moans.

"sir! fuck!" you gasped as you clenched around him. you finished and it only prompted him to move faster while you laid in such a blissed out state. no one had made you finish like that, not even your own nimble digits.

but price was just that good.

the bed creaked further and the headboard hit against the beige wall of the bedroom. he fucked you faster and made sure to cram every inch inside of you. with a few more heavy strokes, he finished into of you with a heavy groan. he fucked you through his climax before he slowed to a stop.

he wiped the sweat from his forehead and exhaled deeply, "beauty, beauty. where has the world been hidin' ya from me." he chuckled as he kissed you on the lips. you melted against him and moaned.

when he pulled out, he got up with a creak in his hip to throw out the condom before he was back in bed with you. you were both naked under the covers as price traced your form with his calloused fingers. the roughness on your soft skin made you shiver.

"how about it, lovie." he said in that low, gruff tone of his. his hand grazed across your side and behind, "how about i invite the boys over and their little birdies and we can have a little playdate. introduce you to the group."

you swallowed, "play... date?"

price pulled you closer. he held onto you the way someone would hold a stuffed animal. he smiled at you, "don't worry, petal. no one's gettin' their hands on ya. not while i'm still breathin'." his voice was tinged with a possessiveness. you nodded in response and he added, "besides, i know i'll make the boys nice and jealous with you." he chuckled, "my beautiful baby girl." then kissed you on the lips.

you could only imagine what would happen at a playdate with price's friends and their submissives. it also didn't help that it made you a little excited as well. <3

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missionary but you keep apologizing for being loud so he tells you to “stop fucking apologizing” and tilts your head so your mouth is lined up with his ear and just fucks you harder

I don’t know who needs to hear and understand this but your favorite anime characters eat black women ass DAILY. Matter of fact, I’ll even take it a step further and say they love black women so much— just as much as any other women.

Since people hate when black women write about their favorite anime characters loving them😑

can i add to tummy lover abby and say she goes insane for the bulge of her strap poking through your lower tummy ?!

ur right!!! I will say rn if ur a bigger girl, she needs either a bigger strap or to go harder so the tummy bulge really really shows. luckily, she fucking delivers n does both.

she has u on her back, on leg hiked up on her shoulder so she can kiss ur ankle n calf, the other splayed out on the bed n shaking bc holy fuck she's so deep. ur tits are jiggling n so is ur tummy n abby is fucking lightheaded bc she loves u so much ur so hot n she gets to see u like this???? a fuckin dream man

n then. the lil lightbulb goes off. she grabs ur other leg n hikes it up on her shoulder, basically folding u in half n pushing in so fucking deep that the tears just Start. ur crying n whining n squealing with each thrust, n abby is just fucking mesmerized bc right there. ur lower tummy. she can see herself. she can fucking see the tummy bulge n it drives her insane, so she goes even harder, taking one of her hands n pressing against it, pushing it into that gushy lil spot inside u, moaning as u squeal even louder n kick ur legs, cumming around her strap n leaving the prettiest, stickiest, white ring around her strap but she's not fuckign stopping. not when she has you like this.

ur definitely not walking straight, if at all, for the next 48 hours, hope u like bed rest baby. im literally gonna go scream into my pillow.