kyndel ˚꩜｡

I'm acting like a Victorian man seeing ankles for the first time. Please don't tease me like this. (And hear my slutty little brain out, Gunn. Yes, even the groin cut.)

Tw: Yandere themes, talk of dubcon and babytrapping, and kidnapping. MDNI

dex using things around the house to make you cum 🎯

he is known for his reputation of utilizing the objects around him to hurt people— always making the perfect shot. killing his enemies with anything as small as a toothpick, and as crazy as his own tooth. dex always hit them where he intended with whatever he could find. but you’re his baby, sweetheart, northern star, so of course he wouldn’t use his abilities to cause harm to you like that.

at first you were afraid of what bullseye can do.

you didn’t know benjamin poindexter, but you knew of that other side of him. the blood on his hands that he acted like didn’t exist or just didn’t care to dwell on. how capable he is of destruction that it followed him everywhere he went.

but then he met you.

well, first he followed you. he found your address and place of work. found your parents house and your coworkers husband who stared too long at you when he picked up his wife.

dex watched you walk home from afar because someone should make sure you’re safe, right?

but you’re attentive and when he starts to get closer, you notice him. he’s not hard to miss, all that muscle mass and that deafening stare. you lock eyes with him at the grocery store. then, at your local coffee shop when he lifted his hat and visibly gulped. he finally builds up the courage to talk to you then and buys you a cup of coffee, plus some sweet pastry because he knew you hadn’t eaten yet, even though you didn’t tell him.

though when he slips up that the gym by your house is nice, you just knew.

“did i mention i lived around there?” you blink at him.

his smile reaches his eyes, crinkling beautifully. “i believe so.”

calling his bluff and inching closer, you press on, “i believe you’ve been following me, Benjamin.”

everything in his face drops and his expression falters. “no… i just—i saw you and i thought,”

“—it’s okay,” you smile, lifting your drink and sipping slowly. eye’s glued to his as they began to soften. “i can learn things too. really interesting things officer.”

he blinks hard, “i didn’t tell you about my job…”

“and yet? you’d be surprised how much information you can find online.”

the words die in his mouth and he’s left dumbfounded and speechless. still, he stays and he asks for number. you give him it. you could ask him to anything and he’ll say yes or soundlessly change the odds so they’re all in your favour. it’s not coercion and it’s almost worse than obsession, but the control is all in your hands. he is at your beck and call willingly.

so when he you’re mad at him, he doesn’t know what to do. he just falls apart.

“please,” he begs over the phone, “i’ll be good i swear. i’ll stop fighting just let me come home.”

from his tone you could tell he was just done crying and it just sounded pathetically beautiful.

“this is not your home. this is my house.” you coo as you stir your dinner. “stop calling me dex.”

you hang up without listening to the rest of his pleading. though less than 10 minutes later, he’s at your front door, begging again.

“baby,” eyes red and puffy, “i need you, i can’t breathe without you. please, please, don’t cut me off again, just—” he breathes as he ghosts his arm by your shoulders like he’s asking for permission. “can i please stay?”

you sigh and let him inside the house. he silently walks in, muttering a quiet thank you as he passes you. as soon as you close door and turn, dex is already on his knees.

“what the hell are you doing dex?”

dropping to his knees, his hands caress the backs of your thighs, dropping his head and burying it between them. gripping you tightly like he could bare letting go. “please take me back. nothing is good without you and it’s making me fucking sick, please,” practically blubbering at this point.

he was so strong and his biceps wrapped around you effortlessly. you could feel the strength just radiating off of him always, like an ever glowing essence.

you sigh, hand touching the nape of his neck and travelling up through his hair while he hums in contentment, “please stand up.”

the sound that he makes was teetering the line of desperation and relief. his lips press against the plush of your thigh while his hands rise to cup your ass. with your hand still buried in his hair, you pull him up with a slight tug, trying to get him to stand. though he keeps slowly rising, kissing up your side and dancing over your stomach, the fabric rising with every movement. a soft gasp escapes your lips and his touch slides up your spine, a shiver running through you. he stops just by your neck when you tug his hair harder and he hisses your name though one would argue it was a moan. you shove him gently and tell him to sit down, though you knew he could’ve stopped you.

you tend to his wounds and wipe his face and he watches you the whole time with puppy eyes. you share your dinner with him but you don’t touch again then, he only steals glances between bites.

within the span of an hour he’s inching closer to you on the couch and he’s watching you when he thinks you’re not looking. no one really cares about the news playing on the television as it repeats something about the AVTF.

his heavy hand rests just under your chest as he pulls you in and buries his nose in your hair, taking a long deep breath in. memorizing your scent like it gave him life.

by the end of night dex is situated between your legs, groaning like it hurts to part from you. he whispers soft thank you’s like he’s grateful for this meal you’ve provided. pushing your legs up higher over his head while you pant and squirm. but dex takes more control then, ignoring your pleas to slow down and dragging you closer to his mouth. maw slack and relentless as he laps and teases. his strong arms wrap and hook around your thighs. tongue teasing the sensitive bud for what felt like eternity. you’ll push his head away to no avail, weakly spent as you attempt it.

“dex, enough. i can’t,” you pant, voice bordering on barely concealed exhaustion and blissful satisfaction.

he shakes his head against you and that only makes you gasp again, throwing your head back.

“not until you promise hmm?” he says between his drunken moans, “you can’t leave me.”

crying out from overstimulating pleasure you nod, “okay, fuck— i won’t. you can stay.”

looking up at you through his hooded eyes, he smiles with them before kissing your inner thigh. he leaves gentle kisses to let you cool off, letting the feeling subside for barely a minute before diving right back into his ministrations. he lets you squeeze yours legs around his head and writhe as you say his name.

“now really try to suffocate me with these,” he says as he squeezes your thighs harder around his neck, turning his head to bite the plush of your thighs.

you know you’ll let him in again. you’ll always let him come back. maybe one day you’ll tell him how you follow him too.

Benjamin can be all the tough guys he wants to be. Defying the law, killing people (even if they're bad guys), being sarcastic and arrogant, especially with Matt, etc.

But with you. With you it was different. He acted like a completely different person.

You were the only one who could truly control him. If he said or did something you didn't like, one look was all it took to know he'd misbehaved. He would immediately apologize and beg for forgiveness.

Dex stood before you, his navy blue t-shirt ridiculously tight on his large frame. Sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose, because he knew it made you drool. He looked at you with narrowed eyes, that look of a lost and helpless puppy.

He dropped heavily to his knees, swaying slightly, confirming that his broad frame truly was heavy. You had to take a deep breath. His knees hit the floor with a thud. He stretched out his arms and placed his palms behind your thighs, pulling you closer.

"Please, please, sweetheart, tell me what you want me to do"

His voice was hoarse, desperate, as he lifted his head to get a better look at you. His grip on your legs tightened, his fingers digging in lightly. You cradled his face, and he closed his eyes, leaning towards your touch like a hungry man. His hands moved up to grasp your hips. Another rose to your waist, feeling your skin through the fabric.

"Mmh, I'll behave myself..." purrs against your palm in a deep voice

Dex began kissing your palm as his hands found their way beneath your shirt, lifting it slightly to feel your skin. You had to take another deep breath to stifle a moan. Your self-control was slowly slipping away. You brought a hand to the back of his neck, grasping short strands of hair, and pulled his head back to force him to look at you. As you did, he let out a low groan of pleasure. You smiled slightly. You knew Dex liked it when you pulled his hair, or bossed him around, and manhandling in general. And shit, how sexy it was to have him at your mercy.

"Promise?" you ask in a honeyed voice

He gave you a crooked, arrogant smile. "Maybe," he replied playfully.

You knew very well that Dex couldn't keep his promises. Your thumb traced the line of his scar, slowly, while your fingers scratched his scalp. He closed his eyes again and this time let out a soft, low moan.

God forbid.

Benjamin brought his face close to the skin of your now-exposed stomach, thanks to him lifting your shirt. He brushed his nose above your navel, rubbing his face against your skin like a cat while his palms traveled down your hips, touching and feeling every inch of you from your lower back to your waist and back to the back of your thighs. He could never get enough of you. Suddenly, he planted kisses on your bare skin. The sensation of his warm breath against your exposed stomach, combined with the cool air, made you accidentally let out a whimper, and your knees almost buckled.

He hummed at your reaction while continuing to press his face against your belly, kissing your smooth skin profusely as if he feared you would vanish if he didn't.

"I'll be good, so good, please," he murmurs hoarsely, the sound muffled.

You bite your lower lip and rest your hands on his broad shoulders. Your fingers slide down, scratching his back through his t-shirt, and only God knows that no matter how much his muscles throb through the fabric, you desperately want him to take it off.

Dex moans softly again when he feels your nails scratch his back. He rubs his nose against your skin and suddenly lifts his head to look at you. His eyes are glazed, his lips barely parted. He looks at you as if you were an angel ready to send him to paradise. And you know that from your position you could do anything you want with him, and even more, he would do anything for you. He's already on his knees just for you. But you know that the only thing he wants to hear are two words.

"Good boy"

He smiles arrogantly again as he rests his chin on your belly, keeping his head back to stare at you, like a dog in love.

⋆˚꩜｡ Gambit/Remy Etienne Lebeau x fem!reader (18+)

After an annoying mission, Remy takes it upon himself to make you feel good in the best way a boyfriend could!

CW: sex, cursing (duh...), face-sitting, p in v, insinuated squirting lol??, reader has a cooch, not proofread, I also don't speak French AND this might be ooc

I had to add marvel rivals gambit in honour of me lording him

1.8k words (I'm thinking of posting about lin lie too soon :p)

The mission your group had to abandon abruptly drained you along with Cyclops and Storm. How did the first member of this group basically become the most annoying and whiny person, as the leader? You have no clue. It’s beyond you. You had to hold yourself back from screaming. Not even yelling anything coherent, just screaming a high pitch in pure frustration, enough for a dog's tail to start wagging.

Getting back to the mansion was the biggest wave of relief you felt after that failed mission, Scott just had to snark out, “Nice job with not letting the perpetrator run off.”

“Oh yeah, because you were so quick to catch him after pleading with me to help you with the second idiot.”

“Obviously you were supposed to restrain him before coming to help me.”

With gritted teeth you hold back whatever you had to say as Ororo jumps in, “hostilities shall not help us after a failed mission,” she diplomatically soothes, “I suggest rest and relaxation for the remainder of the day.” Her voice remained serious and she placed a hand on both of your backs, before removing it and proceeding further inside.

In an attempt to resist further bickering, you walk off, your steps ringing loudly as the only way to release anger until you turn the corner and bumped into a strong wall. Well— ‘wall’—it was actually Gambit.

Gambit, your smug looking boyfriend. Gambit, who’s perfectly dressed in his usual ensemble of purple and whatever brown trench coat. “Welcome back,” he says simply, leaning against the surface and grinning down at you.

When you don’t respond, his sharp smirk softens into a concerned smile, “now, I know that look all too well. Wanna tell Remy what’s going through that pretty head o’ yours?”

You could hardly muster anything in your frustration, simply leaning against the wall with him and your arms crossed under your chest.

“Frustrated, chère?” He prompts for an answer, and he’s delighted when he’s at least met with a nod.

His smugness finally returns as he leans down to whisper in your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck, making goosebumps flick up, “I know a way you can release all that pent up frustration, all ya gotta do is trust me…”

That’s how you find yourself sitting in bed. 

Correction, Gambit laying on the plush bed you share and you found yourself sitting on his face.

Sure, you worried about practically suffocating him, but he assured you that if he died this way, he’d die a happy man.

“Remy, this is disgusting. You didn’t even let me shave or shower!” You glare down at him as he eyes the full expanse of your pussy including the unkept state of it, wettening his lips.

“Now mon ange, Gambit don’t care about a little extra something added to his favourite delicacy…” he playfully quipped before he brought his broad hands to your ass, slamming your bare cunt onto his face.

You yelp at the sudden tug down, imagine how embarrassing it feels to have melted so easily to your boyfriend simply licking your pussy. You don’t even realise when you slid your hands into his wavy hair and tugged, clenching with your life as he eats you out like it’s his last meal before going onto death row.

He held onto the meat of your thighs, groaning with every pulse of your pussy on his tongue and his bulge ached in his pants. However, your frustration also manifests into jumbled words, “that idiot—expects me to fucking do everything—shit, yes…everything and yells when I can’t do a billion things at once!”

Gambit hums, sending vibrations through your soaked pussy, flicking his tongue inside and nudging your clit with his nose. 

You continue angrily, “that self-centered bitch! Fucking hate Scott—just like th-that, Remy…why is he the leader? Anyone else would be better—”

“Shh…don’t wanna hear another’s hommes name in bed, chère. More specifically while I’m eating this pretty pussy” his eyes seem glazed over, more obviously so in the black scleras, as he looks up at you through his lashes, “your legs make good ear muffs for me, but you’re a hell of a loud talker when you’re mad.”

With a simple grunt, you grind down on his tongue in retaliation, your aim being to shut him up. You hump his face by this point, painting him in a mix of your juices and his spit, to him this is the best elixir in the world as muffled, satisfied moans erupt from him. He couldn’t resist reaching down, palming his own throbbing cock that started to form a wet patch, all from eating your pussy.

Meanwhile your head was tilted to face the ceiling with your eyes eased shut, “Remy, holy shit..”

“Gonna cum on me? Montre-moi (show me), ma belle…”

You didn’t need to be told twice. With a moan ripping out of you, you slam your hips onto the man’s face below you. His hands grip your ass with a pleasured moan, kneading the cheeks as he gulps down the gushing liquid coming out of you.

It wasn’t until your fatigued form lazily lifted off his face, did he heave several breaths of air after constantly breathing the scent of your natural husky scent. 

As a parting ritual from your pussy, he kisses your clit, enough for you to huff of playful lack of amusement and shuffle off of him, sitting on the bed next to him. 

He looks fucked out, like unbelievably fucked out as he sits up with a dazed frog-like blink and a dopey grin. 

“You look stupider than normal” you comment teasingly, flicking his forehead. A chuckle comes out of him as he catches your wrist with a broad hand and kisses your palm, and hums “peut-être (maybe)…mais, you do look happier, chère. Much, much happier…”

With a smug look he glances down at the tent in his pants, “you can always go for a ride, y’know?”

“If I ride you now while in this pissed off, I think I’ll break your dick off”

“Then break it off, it’s all yours anyway.”

The bedframe rattled against the wall, slamming just as your hips did on his cock. You can’t give all the credit to yourself, Remy’s hands are on your waist, lifting you up and pushing you back down as he grunts, smirking at the sight of your more relaxed expression. 

“Fuck, Remy…”

“Uh huh?”

You lean forward, pushing him back on the bed as your hands plant themselves on his chest for support, bouncing up and down, and the ample amount of squelches from your greedy pussy rung out like a siren to Remy. 

His admiration is unmistakable in the way his eyes twinkle, looking up at you, “That’s it, show Remy how much you love riding him like a personal dildo,” he breathes out, one hand planted on your slap warmed ass. You glare down at his snarky look, and your hips stutter, “Oh, I’m being mean to mon fleur for making you do all this work, no worries then…”

He flips you both around, your back hitting the mattress, and you cringe briefly at the dampness from the previous face-sitting, which he can’t help but tease you about as he thrusts his cock back into you. “Don’t go lookin’ so disgusted, that’s all from that pretty, needy pussy” he states matter of factly, he then hilts himself completely into you, forcing a surprised “Oh!” out of you, hardly pulling out, but pushing deeper into you with the thick appendage feeling stuck in your throat that all you can muster is a “Fuck!”

He places your legs on his shoulders to rest on; simultaneously, he thrusts, stroking himself against your gummy walls, miraculously hitting the star igniting spot repeatedly that you can hardly keep yourself quiet, gasping out, “Oh, you son of a bitch!”

“Aww, pretty woman gets some lovin’ and can only insult her man? That’s ok, let it all out…”

His words are so sweet and gentle, but his thrusts are so deep and aggressive, forcing the frustration of the mission out of you any way he can. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull and your head falls back, and mouth hangs open as his cock continues its punishing pace.

“Remy makin’ you feel good, chère?” he asks playfully, giving a parting kiss to your calf, before wrapping your legs around his waist, he grins when you nod vigorously. 

The thrusts continue, filling the room with the sound of wet claps as he eases himself down even further, his body pressed down chest to chest with yours and his hips continue snapping up and down, bullying your cunt as his balls slap your ass with every back and forth motion.

After finally getting used to the change of pace, your arms wrap around your boyfriend's neck, and the ever perceptive–and ever teasing man–has to question, “Finally get your bearings, ange?”

“You talk too damn much…” you breathe out, the knot in your stomach inching closer and closer to unravelling entirely as the deep rubbing of his cock against your poor cervix, “keep fucking me. Cum in me, fuck me stupid, baby…” you whisper in his ear as you trail your hands along him, one in his hair and the other along his upper back that you were clawing at.

He doesn’t need to be told twice! 

His hips snap with renewed vigour as plapping sounds ring louder, the wet slaps miraculously caused by no lube and only the mix of your slick and his precum. His mouth shoots down, latching onto your perked nipples, and his tongue runs along, flicking it up and down before sucking and releasing with a pop. 

“These sweet beauties are good, ain’t nothing sweeter than this pretty pussy… or that ass…” he grins at the fucked out expression on your face and the way your eyes widen. You don’t have to even say a damn thing for him to know that you were just about a thrust away from cumming.

When you do release, your body shudders, pussy pumping and clenching Remy’s cock so hard he finally lets out his own series of incoherent moans in harmony with yours before smashing your lips together. He pushes his cum deep into you, and wickedly smirks at the ring of white wrapped around the base of his softening cock when he pulls away from the passionate kiss shared.

He doesn’t move yet, just looks down at you with the same smug look, “say…I could help you get cleaned. Need another seat again? Right on your favourite throne, me reine (my queen)?” he wags his brows

Your chest heaves and you look up at him, “smart Cajun..” your voice teases him as you contemplate the prospects of sitting on his face again.

Tempting, right?

NO IM LOOKING RIGHT NOWWWW

awkward hands.

clark kent x fem!reader

content: fluff, sub!clark, slightly smutty, reader is a rich ceo bosswoman ofc, hints of praise kink, mommy kink

househusband!clark would:

get up way earlier in the morning so that he’ll have plenty of time to make your delicious, specially curated breakfast which would include heart shape pancakes or french toast with freshly cut up fruit.

he’d wear his kitchen apron, one of many aprons you have bought for him, and it has his embroidered initials in superman coloring. he’ll sometimes only wear his apron and pajama pants, knowing how much you like to see his form on display.

househusband! clark would:

have the dining table set with all the tableware and utensils placed perfectly for breakfast, and all meals of course. But if you’re feeling unwell or not going into work, he brings you breakfast in bed with the cutest smile on his face.

househusband!clark would:

help you get ready for work every morning without fail, although you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself. He’d have your suits, dress pants, pencil skirts, etc. all thoroughly cleaned and ironed for you. He’d have your outfit laid out in the huge, walk in closet all ready to wear the next day.

If you’re going with a suit jacket, he’d be quick to help you put it on and adjust it for you. If you’re wearing a skirt or dress, he’ll carefully zip up the back for you while pressing soft kisses along your neck because he can’t help himself.

he’ll urge you to sit on the ottoman in the closet as he goes down on his knees to help put on your sharp louboutin heels he definitely polishes every month. Before he slips on a heel, he’ll take your manicured foot and give it gentle smooch. oh, how he loves to worship you.

househusband!clark would:

admire you once you’re done getting dressed and grow flustered as a string of compliments fly out his mouth.

“gosh, honey you look so gorgeous as always” “oh golly, that skirt makes you look so sexy” “gee, when I see you dressed like this I feel like I’m dreamin’”

househusband!clark would:

feel himself grow hard at the praises you’d give him in those moments. Every “thank you, baby” and “that’s my good boy” would make him melt.

He’d fix your tie for you as well, and use the proximity to finally kiss you on the lips. He’s always so desperate for your affection and you give in a little before assuring him he’ll have your undivided attention after work.

househusband!clark would:

spend the day attending to superman duties and then use his lightening speed to ensure all chores were finished before your return home. Not that you needed him to do all the grocery shopping and cleaning because you could easily afford a maid and personal chef. However, he insisted that all he truly desired was being a dedicated househusband to you. Completely and utterly obedient to your every word.

househusband!clark would:

wait for you ever so patiently every time and give you a warm welcome as soon as you set foot inside your luxury home.

he’d immediately take your purse and coat, helping you discard anything preventing you from being comfortable at the moment.

“long day, honey?” he’d ask while he’s already taking off your heels and massaging your legs and feet.

househusband! clark would:

jump from joy after you say he can shower with you, even though you let him every time. How could you say no to your cutie pie of a husband?

Once your in, he’s using his big hands to wash your scalp and cup your curves covered in soap. He would beg to eat you out, telling you how much it would help you relax after a long day of running the company. Telling you how much he wants to take care of you and make his mommy feel good.

househusband!clark would:

help you dry off afterwards and get ready for bed with you. he’d curl up beside you on the comfy mattress, and lay his head on your chest while you do your nightly reading.

And finally, he would try to wait to fall asleep with you, but always ends up dozing off first when you start giving him head scratches.

───────── ☆