#back to basics with self-care with the tinies | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skzophreniic · 4 months ago

Text

NSFW alphabet with Chan

18+ CONTENT MDNI

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 what being in a relationship with chan is like—after dark version

featuring: Christopher Bahng x reader

notes: this one ALSO got out of hand ngl lmao. um..enjoy?

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Bang Chan wants to take care of you—always. It’s instinct, something woven into him so deeply that even when he’s completely spent, he still reaches for you first.

But sometimes?

He needs a minute.

When the sex is slow and deep, when it’s about connection more than anything, he’s fully present afterward—whispering sweet praises, stroking your skin, kissing every inch of you as he takes his time helping you clean up. He loves those moments, loves the quiet intimacy of holding you, of making sure you feel cherished.

But when it’s rough—when he’s fucked every ounce of energy out of himself, when he’s panting into the crook of your neck, body boneless and sweat-damp against yours—he just physically cannot move right away.

Those are the moments where he collapses onto you, breath ragged, arms still wrapped around you but too weak to do anything but hold on.

"Fuck," he exhales, forehead resting against your shoulder, body heavy against yours. He’s trying—trying to push himself up, trying to get his brain to start functioning again—but he’s just so wrecked.

And you know him. You know he’s going to get up in a second, pull himself together, slip into his nurturing mode and make sure you’re okay. But for now, he just needs to breathe.

So you stroke his hair, rub his back, let him have that moment.

And when he finally stirs, when his strength starts coming back, he lifts his head, cups your cheek, and gives you the softest fucking look.

"Alright, baby?" he murmurs, voice still rough, still hoarse from everything.

And then—after a kiss, after a deep breath—he shifts back into the Bang Chan you know.

He cleans you up, holds you close, whispers sweet words as he runs his fingers through your hair. And when you finally settle, tucked against his chest, warm and safe?

That’s when he lets himself relax completely.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Bang Chan doesn’t think much about his own body. He’s self-critical, always nitpicking, always focusing on what he could improve rather than what he likes.

But if he had to pick a favorite?

His arms.

Not because they’re toned or strong, not because they look good in sleeveless shirts—but because of what they can do.

Because they can hold you close, wrap around you, keep you pressed against his chest when he’s buried deep inside you. Because they can pin you down when he wants to take his time wrecking you, fingers gripping tight enough to leave shadows of himself on your skin. Because they can lift you, shift you exactly how he wants, spread you open, keep you in place when he’s fucking you so good you’re on the verge of falling apart.

That’s why he loves them. Because they let him feel you—hold you—have you.

But when it comes to you?

He can’t pick. He refuses to pick.

Because he loves everything.

Your thighs—the way they tremble when he spreads them open, the way they lock around his waist when you’re pulling him deeper.

Your hips—his hands were made to hold them, to grip them tight as he guides you, as he keeps you right where he wants you.

Your neck—because he loves kissing it, loves feeling your pulse race under his lips, loves the way you tilt your head just a little, silently begging for more.

Your hands—because they always reach for him, always cling to him, always dig into his shoulders, his hair, his back, leaving tiny little reminders that you were there, that you felt everything.

But if he absolutely had to choose?

It’s your eyes.

Because nothing—nothing—undoes him faster than the way you look at him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Chris is absolutely obsessed with it—where it goes, how much there is, how messy he can get you. He’s got a filthy mouth and an even filthier mind, and nothing gets him off harder than seeing the evidence of how thoroughly he’s ruined you.

His favorite thing? Making you keep it inside. He loves stuffing you full, fucking it deeper with slow, teasing thrusts just to make sure it stays there. There’s something so primal about watching it drip out of you afterward, thick and warm, only to push it right back in with his fingers, watching you shudder at the overstimulation.

“Ah, ah, sweetheart,” he murmurs, eyes dark with satisfaction as he watches your swollen cunt flutter around his fingers. “Did I say you could let it spill out?”

You whimper, body trembling beneath him, but he doesn’t have a shred of mercy left. He scoops up a stray drop, presses it against your entrance, and watches with fascination as you gasp when he slides it back inside.

“That’s it,” he croons, brushing a kiss against your thigh before pulling back to admire his work. “Gotta keep it all in, baby. Can’t waste a single drop, yeah?”

And then there’s the times when he gets off on watching you covered in it. Painting your stomach, your thighs, your tongue—he loves it all. Loves the way you look up at him through heavy lashes, mouth open and waiting, that sinful little tongue flicking out just enough to catch the last few drops.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, fingers gripping your jaw as his thumb smears the mess across your lips. “You look so goddamn pretty like this.”

His breathing is ragged, but he still gathers the cum on his fingers, pushing them past your lips, groaning at the way you suck them clean without hesitation.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs, voice thick with arousal. His thumb drags down your chin, spreading the leftover mess over your skin. “Wanna see you like this all the time.”

And he means it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Bang Chan is filthier than he lets on.

Sure, he acts like he’s the responsible one—the measured one—the man who keeps it together when everyone else is losing their minds. But behind that composed exterior?

He’s an absolute fucking pervert.

Because his dirty secret?

He steals things from you.

Not in an obvious way—not something you’d immediately notice missing—but little things. The lacey panties you left in his laundry pile. The shirt you wore to bed that still smells like you. A pair of thigh-high socks you once teased him in, bunched up at the foot of the bed after you peeled them off.

And the filthiest part?

He uses them.

He knows he should feel guilty—knows it’s borderline depraved to be alone in his studio, pressing his face into the soft fabric of your underwear, fisting his cock like he’s some desperate, sex-starved idiot.

But he can’t help it.

Not when your scent is still on them. Not when the memory of you wearing them is still burned into his mind. Not when he can picture you so perfectly—back arched, legs spread, teasing him as you pull them off inch by inch.

He’s done it on tour, too. Brought a pair with him, tucked deep in his suitcase like some kind of depraved little token, something to keep him sane when he’s too far away to touch you.

And when he’s alone in some hotel room, his hand wrapped tight around his cock, stroking himself to the thought of being buried inside you, he’s pressing them against his face, groaning into the fabric, his cum spilling all over them—marking them, ruining them—just so when he gets home, he can finally give them back.

And the worst part?

He loves the idea that you might already know.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Bang Chan is dangerously experienced—not just in knowing what feels good, but in knowing exactly how to make you lose yourself in it. He doesn’t just fuck; he studies you, learns every twitch, every gasp, every shift in your breathing like a song he’s fine-tuning in the studio. He catches the way your thighs squeeze together when his fingers trail too lightly, the way your breath hitches when his lips hover at your throat. And he uses it against you.

"Relax, baby," he murmurs, voice thick with amusement as he presses a teasing kiss to the crease of your thigh, just shy of where you need him. He knows you’re aching, trembling under his touch, but he won’t give in until you beg for it. His fingers skim the slick heat between your legs, slow and barely there. "So sensitive, aren’t you? That’s okay, I got you."

And he does. When he finally gives you what you want, it’s devastating—a calculated mix of deep, deliberate thrusts and slow, teasing drags that keep you on the edge but never quite over. He knows when to speed up, when to grind just right, when to slip a hand between your bodies and press his thumb against your swollen clit, growling in satisfaction when you tighten around him.

“You’re so easy to read,” he whispers against your lips, sweat-damp curls sticking to his forehead as he watches you unravel. “I knew you’d like it like this.”

He’s been with enough people to know what he’s doing, but that’s not what makes him dangerous. It’s the way he adapts, the way he remembers—the way every time he touches you, it’s somehow better than the last.

F = Favorite Position (this goes without saying)

Bang Chan doesn’t have just one favorite—he’s too attentive, too adaptable, too desperate to feel you in every possible way to limit himself. But if he had to choose? Anything that lets him watch you break.

He loves missionary, but not the slow, romantic kind—the messy, sweaty, unrelenting kind where he’s got your legs hooked over his shoulders, his weight pressing you down into the mattress as he grinds deep, slow, devastating. Where he can see everything—the way your eyes glaze over, the way your mouth falls open on a choked moan when he angles just right. He loves watching your fingers clutch at his arms, your nails dragging down his back when he picks up the pace.

“You feel that?” he pants against your skin, sweat rolling down his temple as he drives into you, relentless and overwhelming. “Fuck—baby, you’re squeezing me so tight—” His voice shatters on a groan, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as your walls clench around him.

And then there’s riding him—not just because he loves the view, but because it lets him lose control in a way he rarely allows himself. He grips your hips so hard you’ll feel it for days, guides you into the rhythm he wants—slow, deep grinds at first, then faster, harder, until he’s bucking up to meet you, chasing the slick friction with helpless desperation. His head tips back, throat bared as he moans for you, pleasure-struck and utterly wrecked.

“Fuck, baby—just like that, just like that—” His voice is breathless, raw, fingers digging into your ass as he thrusts up to meet you, eyes dark and desperate. He needs you to fall apart first—needs to watch you tremble, needs to feel your body clench around him before he lets himself go.

Because for Bang Chan, his favorite position isn’t just about pleasure—it’s about ruining you, about watching you come undone beneath him, on top of him, all around him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Bang Chan is intense in bed—focused, deliberate, completely tuned into your body—but that doesn’t mean he’s always serious. If anything, his natural warmth seeps into everything he does, sex included. He laughs when you gasp too loud, grins when you whimper his name, and if he ever fumbles—knocks over a lamp, tugs your shirt the wrong way—he’s the first to chuckle, pressing an apologetic kiss to your lips before getting right back to ruining you.

But the real problem? He teases.

You’re under him, breathless and needy, his fingers lazily stroking between your thighs—but instead of giving you what you want, he’s just…smirking. Smug. Amused. Infuriating.

“What was that sound you just made?” he murmurs, breath hot against your cheek as he barely brushes your clit, just enough to make you shudder. “Was that a whimper? Or a squeak?”

“Chan,” you groan, hips bucking against his hand, but he just chuckles, his touch maddeningly light.

“No, no, do it again,” he insists, mock-serious but clearly enjoying himself, trailing kisses down your throat. “It was cute.”

And then, the worst part—his mocking little moan, mimicking the breathy sound you made, laced with amusement and pure sin. It’s enough to make you burn with embarrassment, to make you want to push him off—

But before you can, he snaps his hips forward, sinks into you all at once, and suddenly, he’s not laughing anymore.

His forehead drops against yours, a deep, guttural groan spilling from his lips.

“Shit,” he breathes, grip tightening on your waist as your walls squeeze around him. “Yeah, okay. Not laughing anymore.”

Because that’s the thing—Chan might play, he might tease, he might drive you insane with his lighthearted torment—but the second he’s buried deep inside you, the second he feels how fucking tight you are around him?

The teasing stops.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Bang Chan is meticulous about grooming—not just because he likes to look good, but because he knows how much you love it. He keeps everything trimmed, neat, soft, just enough to show he’s put thought into it, but not so bare that it looks unnatural. And yes, the carpet matches the drapes—dark, soft curls, a little messy when he’s been too busy to maintain it, but never unkempt.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Bang Chan isn’t just fucking you—he’s feeling you, knowing you, worshipping you in a way that makes your chest ache and your breath catch in your throat. He’s intense, not just in the way his body moves against yours, but in the way he looks at you—like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, like he can’t believe he gets to have you like this.

His hands never stop moving—tracing your skin, cupping your jaw so you can’t look away, brushing the sweaty strands of hair from your forehead so he can see every flicker of pleasure in your eyes.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes, voice hoarse, hips rolling slow and deep as his thumb strokes along your cheekbone. His gaze flickers down to where your bodies are joined, his breath stuttering at the sight before he looks back up at you, soft, reverent. “You feel that, baby? Feel how perfect you are for me?”

And then he’s kissing you, like he can’t stand to be apart from you for even a second—deep, slow kisses, the kind that make you melt into him, that make your head spin until you don’t know where he ends and you begin. He groans against your lips when you whimper into his mouth, his arms tightening around you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“Mine,” he whispers, hips snapping forward with just a little more urgency, forehead pressed against yours. “You’re mine, right?”

It’s not possessiveness, not in a toxic way—it’s need, it’s vulnerability, it’s him begging you to hold onto him as tightly as he’s holding onto you.

And when you moan his name, fingers digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper, he shudders—because that’s all he ever wants. To be as close to you as humanly possible.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Bang Chan hates being away from you—not just because he misses your touch, but because he feels it everywhere, that constant, aching need that only gets worse when he’s alone in a hotel room, thousands of miles from you, and painfully hard with no relief in sight.

He tries to ignore it, tries to distract himself with work, with late-night gym sessions, with exhaustion, but it never helps—not when every text from you makes his cock throb, not when he closes his eyes and all he can see is you, stretched out beneath him, whining his name.

So he gives in. Every time.

Lying back in a stiff hotel bed, phone in hand, screen dimmed, he scrolls through the pictures you sent him before he left—that one where your shirt was slipping off your shoulder, that little video where you whispered his name so sweetly, breathy and teasing, telling him you missed him.

His breath catches, fingers already shoving down the waistband of his sweats, freeing his aching cock, already dripping from how long he’s been holding back.

“Shit,” he groans, head tilting back against the pillows as he wraps a hand around himself, stroking slow, teasing, just the way he would if you were here. He imagines your fingers instead—soft, warm, slick with spit as you pump him lazily, giggling when his hips buck into your grip.

He plays your voice message again, bites his lip when you sigh out his name, and suddenly, he’s fucking into his fist like he’s losing his mind, messy and desperate, breath coming in sharp gasps.

“Fuck, baby—” His voice is wrecked, hips lifting off the bed, chasing his high. He’s so close, so fucking close, and if you were here, he’d be spilling inside you instead, groaning into your neck, feeling you clench around him as he filled you up—

The thought alone makes him snap, makes his whole body shudder as thick ropes of cum spill over his abs, his thighs, his hand, his chest rising and falling in heavy pants.

And then, the worst part.

The post-orgasm crash, the loneliness that hits him like a punch to the gut. He sighs, grabbing his phone, fingers already typing.

chan🐺: baby, are you up? i miss you. so fucking bad.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bang Chan is obsessed with the idea of putting a baby in you.

It’s not just a breeding kink—it’s a full-blown, primal, animalistic need that takes over every time he’s buried inside you. He doesn’t just want to fill you up—he wants to make it stick.

And the way he talks about it? It’s downright filthy.

“Look at you,” he groans, watching the way your body trembles, how you’re already fucked-out and wrecked beneath him. “You’re taking me so well, baby. So fucking good for me. Can feel you squeezing me—fuck—you want it, don’t you?”

He leans in, pressing his lips to your ear, voice rough and dripping with hunger.

“You wanna be swollen with my kids? Wanna let me fuck you full, keep you dripping with my cum until it takes?”

And if you whimper, if you nod, if you gasp out a breathless ‘yes’ like you’ll die if he doesn’t do it?

It’s over. You’re not getting out of bed for hours.

He loves seeing it drip out, loves the mess he makes of you, loves when his cum leaks from between your thighs. But the second he sees that? He’s pushing it back in, rubbing slow circles over your stomach, mumbling shit he shouldn’t even be thinking about.

“Bet you’d look so pretty carrying my baby, fuck. So full, all swollen, everyone knowing I did that to you—"

And then there’s his exhibitionist streak.

It’s not about getting caught—not exactly. But the risk? The danger? The idea that someone could overhear the way he’s fucking you senseless, could see the way you’re clinging to him, could walk in at the worst possible moment?

It drives him insane.

He’s taken you in the studio, late at night, when the walls aren’t nearly as soundproof as they should be. Has muffled your moans with his mouth, one hand fisted in your hair, the other gripping your hip so tight you’ll be sore for days, hissing against your lips—

“Shh, baby. You don’t want them to know how desperate you are to be bred, do you?”

His teeth graze your ear, and his breath is hot when he whispers, “Or do you want them to hear? Want them to know how good I make you feel?”

The thought makes your stomach twist deliciously, and he feels it—the way you clench around him, the way your breathing stutters.

“Fuck, you do,” he chuckles, low and smug. “That’s filthy, sweetheart.” His hand snakes between your legs, fingers finding your swollen clit as he grinds against you harder, the desk beneath you creaking with every movement. “But it’s okay. I like filthy.”

And when he’s on tour?

Hotel balconies. Dressing rooms. Backstage, right before he goes on stage, when he’s already wired with adrenaline and you’re sitting there looking so fucking pretty he can’t stop himself.

You know he shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t.

But then he’s sliding his hand between your thighs, murmuring against your ear—

“Let me fill you up before I go on. Let me go out there knowing my cum’s still dripping out of you.”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bang Chan loves the bed—deep sheets, pillows to muffle your moans, the ability to take his time breaking you apart—but he’s also not patient, not when he needs you now, now, now.

So his real favorite places? Anywhere he can have you the moment the urge hits.

The studio couch is dangerous. It’s where he spends the most time, where he’s already pent-up and stressed, where you visiting him only ever leads to one thing.

“You should be working,” you murmur, breathless, your back pressed against the couch as Chan hovers over you, one hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping your thigh, spreading you wider for him.

“I’ll work after,” he mutters, hips grinding against yours, cock hard and heavy through his sweats. His eyes flick down, breath hitching at the sight—your panties pushed to the side, already soaked, already so ready for him.

And then, that grin, the one that’s both sweet and filthy, the one that tells you he’s about to ruin you.

“Studio acoustics are crazy, you know,” he murmurs, lining himself up, teasing, teasing, teasing. “Hope the walls aren’t too thin.”

Or the bathroom mirror, where he loves watching you fall apart for him.

“Look,” he pants, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other buried in your hair, forcing your head up. The mirror in front of you is fogging up from how hard you’re both breathing, from the heat of your bodies pressed together.

“You see that?” he groans, snapping his hips forward, watching your mouth drop open in a silent moan, watching the way your legs shake from how deep he’s fucking you.

His teeth graze your shoulder, breath hot against your skin as he whispers, “So fucking pretty like this, baby. My perfect girl.”

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Bang Chan is so easy to rile up—because when he wants you, it’s instant, all-consuming, impossible to ignore. Sometimes it’s something innocent—the way you laugh, the way you stretch and your shirt rides up, the way you bite your lip without even realizing it—and suddenly, he’s hard and restless and aching to have you under him.

But if you’re doing it on purpose? Oh, you’re in for it.

Like when you sit in his lap during meetings, all sweet and innocent, pretending like you don’t notice how you’re shifting just a little too much, how your hips roll every time you adjust, how your weight is pressing down right where he’s already growing hard.

His grip on your waist tightens, his jaw clenched so hard it’s a miracle his teeth don’t crack. **His voice doesn’t waver—**years of self-control in action—but his fingers dig into your skin, silently warning you, silently promising revenge.

And when the meeting ends?

The second the door clicks shut, you’re pressed against it, his hands grabbing your wrists, pinning them above your head, his thigh slipping between yours.

“You think I wouldn’t notice, baby?” he breathes, grinding his thigh up against you, watching the way your lips part, your breath hitching. “Thought you could get away with that?”

Or when you whisper filth in his ear when he’s trying to focus, when he’s on a call, when he absolutely cannot afford to be distracted.

“Bet you’d love to bend me over this desk,” you murmur one night, leaning over him in the studio, your lips grazing the shell of his ear, your fingers tracing down his chest.

His breath catches. His hands clench into fists.

And the moment he hangs up?

You’re bent over the desk just like you teased—but this time, you’re not the one in control.

"That what you wanted?" he pants against your ear, hips snapping forward, his hand splayed against your back, holding you down as he fucks you mercilessly against the desk. "You wanted to be fucked right here, baby? Where anyone could walk in?"

But nothing gets him harder, nothing drives him crazier, than you being desperate for him.

When you’re pulling at his clothes, whimpering, clinging to him like you can’t get close enough. When you’re grinding against him, whining about how much you need him, your voice sweet and breathy and so, so needy.

And when you look up at him, wide-eyed, desperate, pleading—

"Chan, please," you whisper, voice breaking, "I need you so bad."

That’s it.

That’s his breaking point.

Because when you beg for him like that?

He’ll give you whatever you want.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Bang Chan has a high sex drive and a filthy mind, but there are some things he absolutely won’t do—no matter how desperate he is.

He’s not into degradation—not really. He can tease, push, challenge, but the second it turns into something that could make you feel small, unloved, or unwanted? Absolutely not.

"Call you what?" he scoffs one night when you suggest it, eyebrow raised. "No way. You're my baby. My princess. My good girl. Why would I call you anything else?"

Sharing? Not happening.

The thought of another person seeing you like this—bare, needy, begging— makes something primal twist in his gut. He’s possessive, protective, a little selfish when it comes to you.

So when someone gets a little too friendly, when someone looks at you just a little too long— his grip on your waist tightens. His smile is there, but his eyes are dark, dangerous.

And later, when you’re pressed against the nearest surface, his fingers laced with yours, his hips grinding slow and deep?

His lips ghost over your ear.

"Say it," he murmurs, voice thick with something unshakable. "Say you're mine."

And finally—denial.

He can tease, sure. Play with the build-up, drag it out, make you work for it. But actually leaving you on edge, desperate, aching with no release?

He can’t do it. Won’t do it.

Because nothing gets him off harder than watching you come undone for him.

So when you whimper, eyes glassy, body trembling, he caves every single time.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, thrusting harder, deeper, chasing your high with you. "Gimme one more—just one more, yeah?"

(He’s lying. He always wants another.)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Bang Chan lives between your thighs. Loves it. Needs it. He’ll do it for his pleasure just as much as yours, will eat you out like it’s his last meal, like he’s starving for it.

And he’s so good at it.

Because it’s not just his tongue—it’s the way he uses his whole mouth, the way he drags his lips over your skin, the way he groans against you like he’s the one getting off on it.

He starts slow, teasing, kissing up your inner thighs, sucking little marks into your skin, making you squirm. He wants you restless, wants you whining, wants your hands in his hair tugging him closer.

And when you try to push him down, try to rock your hips up against his mouth?

He grins against you before pressing you down harder, pinning you in place with strong arms hooked around your thighs.

"Be patient, baby," he murmurs, breath hot against your soaked folds. "I'll take care of you."

And then? He ruins you.

His tongue is everywhere, flicking, circling, pressing deep. He sucks your clit into his mouth, hums when you whimper, lets his fingers slip inside you at the same time, curling just right—

And when your thighs start shaking around his head, when your moans get breathy and desperate, when your fingers tighten in his hair—?

That’s when he really gets into it.

Because he wants you to fall apart. Wants you wrecked. Wants you sobbing his name because you can’t take any more—

But he knows you can.

So he holds you down and keeps going. Licking, sucking, eating you out like he’s lost in it—

Because he is.

(And if he starts grinding into the mattress, if he gets himself off just from the sounds you make alone? No he didn't.)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Bang Chan is all about control—of you, of himself, of the way he drags you through every second of pleasure until you’re trembling beneath him.

But his pace?

That depends entirely on how desperate he is.

Because when he has time? When he can savor you, take you apart piece by piece?

He’s slow. So slow.

Deep, measured strokes that leave you gasping, whining, clenching around him, his lips dragging over your skin, whispering sweet filth right into your ear.

"Feel that, baby?" he murmurs, rolling his hips in slow, delicious circles, grinding against your sweetest spot until your back arches off the bed. "Taking me so good. So fucking tight around me."

And every time you try to move faster, try to chase your high?

His hands grip your hips, hold you down, pin you to the mattress.

"Ah, ah," he tuts, grinning against your shoulder. "We go at my pace, remember?"

But when he’s desperate? When he’s stressed, overwhelmed, worked up beyond belief?

Then there’s no patience. No teasing. No control.

Then it’s fast, rough, relentless.

Like when he’s had one too many sleepless nights, when his body is aching, when the only thing that can reset his system is fucking you senseless.

Then it’s him pressing you into the nearest surface, hiking your legs around his waist, snapping his hips into yours like he’s starving for it.

Then it’s gritted teeth, deep groans, breathless curses against your lips—

"Fuck—so tight—feel so fucking good, baby—"

Then it’s his fingers digging into your hips, his pace brutal, his need overwhelming—

And when you start breaking, when you’re shaking, begging, sobbing his name?

That’s when he grins, leans in close, whispers against your lips—

"Not done with you yet."

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Bang Chan loves quickies— but only if they still leave you wrecked.

Because if he’s gonna fuck you, he’s gonna make sure you feel it for the rest of the day.

In the morning? Right before he heads to the studio?

You’re not leaving the apartment with steady legs.

One second you’re sipping coffee in his oversized shirt, looking so goddamn cute it physically hurts— and the next, he’s got you bent over the kitchen counter, pushing your panties to the side, lining himself up in one smooth motion.

"Shh, baby," he breathes, a hand sliding up your stomach, up your chest, closing around your throat as he thrusts into you.

He can’t go slow, can’t take his time. Not when he has ten minutes before he’s late.

So he fucks you fast, deep, hips snapping against your ass as his other hand slips between your thighs, rubbing quick, desperate circles—

"You gonna come for me?" he pants against your ear, grinning when you whimper, already so close. "Gotta be quick, baby. You can do that for me, yeah?"

And when you clench around him, body trembling, moaning his name?

That’s it. That’s all he needs.

But his favorite? Public quickies.

The ones where you’re not supposed to be doing this—

Like backstage at an event, when he drags you into an empty dressing room, presses you against the mirror, pushes his hand under your skirt.

"Five minutes," he mutters, undoing his belt with one hand. "Think you can be good for me in five minutes?"

And when you nod, breath hitching, pupils blown wide with need?

His lips curl into a filthy smirk.

"Let’s find out."

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Bang Chan is down for almost anything—as long as it’s with you, as long as it turns you on just as much as it does him.

He loves pushing limits, trying new things, learning exactly what makes your body tick.

"You trust me, don’t you?" he murmurs one night, hands ghosting over your bare skin, eyes dark with something dangerous, something thrilling.

And when you nod, licking your lips, whispering a soft yes?

He grins.

"Then let me show you something new."

Risky locations?

Absolutely.

The backseat of his car, a dark hallway at a party, backstage at a concert, pressed against the wall of his studio, the bass still thumping through the walls—

He loves knowing you could get caught, loves watching you struggle to stay quiet, loves the way your nails dig into his arms when he fucks you just a little too hard.

"You gotta be quiet, baby," he pants against your neck, hand clamping over your mouth, muffling your moans. "Don’t wanna get caught, do we?"

(But he doesn’t stop. Never stops. Not until you’re wrecked.)

Blindfolds? Restraints?

Oh, he’s been dying to try.

The idea of you spread out for him, unable to see, unable to touch, completely at his mercy?

It’s enough to make him groan, to make his cock twitch in his pants.

"Just trust me," he whispers, kissing you slow, deep, as he ties your wrists above your head. "I promise I’ll take care of you."

And then? He ruins you.

Slow hands, teasing kisses, feather-light touches until you’re begging, whimpering, writhing beneath him, desperate for more.

"Fuck, look at you," he breathes, watching you squirm, watching you struggle against the restraints.

"So fucking pretty when you’re desperate for me.”

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Bang Chan doesn’t stop until you physically can’t take anymore.

It’s not just about getting off— it’s about dragging it out, about stretching the night as long as possible, about making sure you feel him for days.

And when you think he’s finally done, finally satisfied, finally spent?

Oh, you’re wrong.

Because he’s insatiable.

It starts slow—his hands trailing over your skin, his lips soft against your shoulder, his voice low, coaxing, teasing.

"You okay, baby?" he murmurs, grinning when you nod, still breathless, still trembling from the last round.

"Yeah?" he hums, thumb tracing lazy circles on your thigh. "Think you can give me one more?"

And when you whimper, when you shift closer, when you look at him with that fucked-out, hazy expression?

That’s it.

That’s all he needs.

Because once is never enough. Twice isn’t either.

He’ll have you under him, on top of him, against the wall, bent over the nearest surface—

And even when his muscles are sore, when his body is exhausted, when sweat is dripping down his temples, when he’s groaning from the overstimulation?

He’ll keep going.

Because he loves watching you come undone. Loves the way your body reacts to him, loves the way your nails scratch down his back, loves the way you moan his name like he’s the only thing that exists.

And when you’re finally shaking, gasping, whining that you can’t, you’re too sensitive, you’re done—?

He just grins, presses a soft kiss to your jaw, and whispers—

"That’s okay, baby. I’ll take care of you."

(And he always does.)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

At first, Bang Chan doesn’t really see the point.

Not because he’s against them—just because he’s confident in what he can do with his own two hands, his mouth, his cock. He loves the way he can pull you apart piece by piece, slow and thorough, knowing every little thing that makes you melt under him.

So when you first bring it up—just casually, mentioning how fun it might be to try something new—he just quirks an eyebrow, arms crossed, amused.

"You don’t think I do a good enough job on my own?" he teases, but there’s a flicker of curiosity in his eyes, something thoughtful.

So you push a little further, tell him it’s not about replacing him—it’s about amplifying it. About seeing just how much more you can take.

And that’s what does it. Because Bang Chan is competitive, and if there’s a way to get you to fall apart even harder, even faster? He wants to know.

So the first time he uses a toy on you, it’s with cautious curiosity.

A wand, pressed to your clit on the lowest setting, his brows furrowed, studying every little reaction.

At first, he’s intrigued—watching the way your breath catches, the way your body tenses, the way your fingers grip the sheets.

And then?

Then you start squirming, whimpering, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure crashes over you so fast you barely have time to brace for it.

That’s when he grins.

"Fuck," he breathes, pressing it down a little harder, watching your thighs tremble, your mouth fall open. "That good, huh?"

And then he’s hooked.

Because now he knows just how quickly he can break you.

Now he knows how many times he can make you come before you’re shaking, gasping, begging him to stop.

Now he knows how sensitive he can leave you, how easy it is to keep pushing, how fucking desperate you get when you’re teetering on the edge, unable to stop the pleasure from crashing over you again and again.

"Fuck, look at you," he murmurs, watching you writhing under him, completely at his mercy.

"You sure you can handle one more?" he asks, even though you both already know the answer.

And when you whimper, when you nod, when your fingers tighten in the sheets?

He just chuckles, turns the setting up, and leans down to whisper—

"Good. Because I’m not done with you yet."

But when you bring up using toys on him?

That’s when he gets flustered.

At first, he just laughs it off, rubbing the back of his neck, shaking his head. "I dunno, baby."

But you see the way his ears flush, the way his throat bobs when he swallows, the way he can’t quite look at you.

So you push.

Tease him about it. Tell him you think he’d look so pretty falling apart for you, all helpless, all wrecked.

And that’s when you see it—that flicker of interest, the way his fingers twitch, the way his lips part just slightly.

So the first time you press a cock ring into his palm, ask him to wear it while he fucks you?

He just raises an eyebrow, rolls his tongue over his teeth, and mutters

"You really wanna see me desperate for you that bad?"

But he tries it.

And he loves it.

Because now he’s the one squirming, panting, gripping your hips.

Now he’s the one chasing his high, whining when he can’t get there, cursing when you just smile up at him, running your nails down his chest.

"Shit—" he groans, jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his temples. "—take it off, baby, please, I can’t—"

And when you finally do, when he finally comes, shaking, gasping, grinding into you so hard you see stars?

That’s when he knows.

He’s absolutely fucked.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Bang Chan lives for teasing.

Not just the casual kind—the light, playful, fleeting kind. No, when he teases, he wants to make you squirm. He wants to make you beg. He wants to push you right to the edge, dangle you over it, then pull you back just to do it all over again.

It starts innocent enough.

A slow, lingering kiss that doesn’t go anywhere. His fingers tracing up your thigh under the table, but never quite touching where you need him most. A whispered ‘later, baby’ when you’re already desperate.

But when he really wants to be mean?

That’s when he takes his time.

Lips trailing over your skin, warm breath ghosting against your ear as he murmurs, "Patience, baby." Fingers brushing over your core, never applying enough pressure. Languid, lazy drags of his tongue that have you whining, gripping at his shoulders, trying to force him to give you more.

But he won’t.

Because he loves the way you get needy for him. Loves the way your voice gets higher, your thighs tremble, your hands clutch at anything just to ground yourself.

And when he finally, finally gives you what you want?

It’s never enough.

A few slow thrusts before he stills, grinning down at you while you try to move your hips, only for his hands to clamp down and keep you still.

"You wanna come that bad?" he murmurs, faux sympathy dripping from his tone.

And when you nod, whimpering, begging?

He just chuckles, shakes his head, and whispers—

"Then you better earn it."

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Bang Chan isn’t quiet.

Not even a little.

He tries to be, sometimes—when the walls are thin, when there are people around, when he knows he shouldn’t be making a mess of you the way he is. But the second he’s buried deep inside you, the second he feels how fucking tight and warm and wet you are around him?

He loses all composure.

It starts low—deep, breathy groans, his voice rough with restraint. His jaw clenches, his brows knit together, his fingers dig into your hips as he tries to keep himself together.

But then you whimper for him, roll your hips just right, moan his name in that desperate, needy little voice?

And that’s when it all falls apart.

"Fuck," he groans, head dropping to your shoulder, breath coming out in ragged pants. His moans spill against your skin, hot and desperate, full of need.

And when he gets close?

That’s when he really loses it.

His voice gets higher, rougher, edged with something so raw and wrecked it makes your whole body tighten around him.

"Shit—baby, please, please—" he whines, hips stuttering, hands gripping you so tight you’ll feel him for days.

And when he finally cums, when he finally spills inside you, groaning your name like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth?

He doesn’t stop.

Not the sounds.

Not the breathless little whimpers.

Not the needy way he moans against your skin, rocking into you slow, dragging out every last aftershock.

Because Chan isn’t just loud—

He’s completely, shamelessly vocal.

W = Wild Card (a random headcanon for the character)

Bang Chan has sampled your moans in a track.

And the worst part? You have no idea.

It started as a joke. A filthy, unhinged, late-night idea that he never actually intended to follow through with—but then you had to go and sound so pretty for him.

It had been a long night. He’d dragged you into the studio under the pretense of just wanting company, wanting to feel you close while he worked. But one thing led to another—a few teasing touches, a soft kiss turning into something filthier, his hands sliding up your thighs—and suddenly, you were spread out on the couch, moaning his name like the perfect fucking melody.

And Chan, being the shameless menace he is?

He’d hit record.

Not in a weird, creepy way—he’d never do that to you. But his mic had already been on, his DAW already running, and the second he heard that broken, breathless little sound you made when he dragged his tongue over your clit?

He knew he needed to keep it.

For artistic purposes, of course.

That’s what he told himself when he clipped the audio later, tweaking it, pitching it just slightly so it blended seamlessly into the beat. A soft, ethereal little sound, woven so subtly into the track that no one would ever know.

Except him.

And when he finally plays it for you, watches as you nod along to the melody, completely unaware that you’re listening to yourself come undone for him?

He has to bite his lip to keep from grinning.

Because if you ever find out?

He’s so fucked.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Bang Chan’s cock is thick, warm, and heavy in your hand—just the right size to stretch you open without being overwhelming. He’s not massive, but he’s long enough to press deep, thick enough to make you feel every inch.

The veins running along his shaft are prominent but not overly pronounced, just enough to add that extra bit of friction when he drags against your walls. The head is flushed a pretty shade of pink, slightly darker than the rest of him, always leaking just a little when he’s really turned on. His skin is silky-smooth, hot to the touch, twitching when you wrap your fingers around him.

And the weight of it? Perfect.

When he rests it against your stomach, you can feel just how deep he’s going to reach, how full he’s going to make you. And when he slides it between your folds, teasing, coating himself in your slick before finally pressing in?

You swear you can feel every ridge, every pulsing vein, every throbbing inch as he stretches you open.

And it drives him crazy every time.

"God, baby," he groans, watching the way his cock disappears inside you, watching the way your body takes him so perfectly. His fingers grip your waist, holding you still as he presses in deeper, slower, savoring the way you flutter around him.

Because it’s not just about filling you—it’s about making sure you feel everything.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Bang Chan’s sex drive is high—but measured.

He’s not reckless about it. He’s not the type to drop everything the second he gets hard, not the type to demand you at all hours just because he can. He’s got discipline, self-control—until he doesn’t.

Because the thing is, he knows how to wait.

But waiting doesn’t mean not wanting.

And fuck, does he want you.

It’s a constant, underlying hum, a need that sits just under his skin, always there, always waiting. He can push it aside when he needs to—focus on work, go about his day like a normal person— but the second he’s alone with you?

It’s over.

He’s on you in an instant—hands firm, voice low, pressing you up against the nearest surface like he’s been counting down the hours.

"Been thinking about you all day," he murmurs, dragging his lips down your neck, teeth grazing sensitive skin.

And he has. Not obsessively—not in a way that interferes with anything—but in the kind of way where everything reminds him of you.

The seat in his studio chair—where you’ve straddled him too many times to count.

The way his hoodie still smells faintly like your perfume.

The song he’s working on—and the way it perfectly matches the rhythm he fucked you to last week.

So yeah, he’s patient. He’s measured. He knows how to wait.

But when he finally gets you?

That control? It disappears.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Bang Chan tries to stay awake.

Always.

No matter how drained, how spent, how absolutely wrecked he is—he refuses to pass out on you right away. He needs to make sure you’re okay first, needs to hold you, needs to press slow, lingering kisses to your skin as he murmurs soft praises against your temple.

"Did so good for me, baby," he whispers, voice thick with exhaustion, but his hands still move—stroking your back, tracing lazy patterns against your thigh.

But the second he knows you’re comfortable, the second he’s sure you’re warm and tucked against his chest?

He’s gone.

Completely knocked out—breathing slow and steady, arms still wrapped around you even in sleep.

Sometimes, you can feel him nuzzle closer without even realizing it, pressing his face into your hair, sighing softly like even unconscious, he still can’t get enough of you.

And no matter how deep he sleeps, the second you move—whether it’s to shift positions, grab a blanket, or slip out of bed—

His grip tightens, just slightly.

Like even in his dreams, he’s still holding onto you.

#straykids #skz #bang chan #straykids fanfic #bangchan fic #bangchan fanfic #bangchan headcanons #bangchan fluff #bangchan imagine #bangchan imagines #bang chan smut #bang chan angst #bang chan fake texts #bangchan angst #bangchan smut

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blueanim · 2 months ago

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Jax's Bedroom - FAN Concept Renders @kovox @gooseworx

I've created an entire backstory & collection of headcanons surrounding his room, so if you'd like to learn more, then please keep reading! :)

His sleeping area is made up of various stolen objects.

End Table: Stolen from Kaufmo after he abstracted.

Lava Lamp: Stolen from Zooble as a prank after they had just arrived.

Room Divider: "Borrowed" from Queenie, but never gave it back because she abstracted.

His closet contains several copies of his signature overalls. He's basically Spongebob.

His desk area contains various stolen items:

Bowling Ball: Stolen from Kaufmo after he abstracted (Ep.1)

Dobby's Pet Bowl: Stolen from Dobby (abstracted dog) to make himself feel less self-conscious about Caine giving him a food bowl.

Gangle's Broken Mask: After Gangle first arrived to the Circus, Jax learned he could very, very easily break her happy mask. The one you see here is the first EVER broken happy mask.

Caine's Staff: Jax stole this while Caine lagged out for a few seconds. He didn't realize and instead just spawned in a new one.

His dresser also contains a few items, most of which aren't stolen but still worth mentioning:

Many pairs of his own gloves… don't ask why.

Whipped Cream Pies for pranking

Another stolen Gangle mask

Here, we have all of his stolen keys! He really does have keys to everywhere 👀

And finally, we have a totally-not-suspicious hole into the void! When Jax first arrived in the Circus, he spotted a tiny hole in the corner of his room.

Over the years, the hole has expanded and is now a pretty big hazard. He's been using it as a trash can, though. He doesn't care that much.

The exit door you see here is the one from the pilot, seen when Pomni was having a tour. Jax went out to the Grounds for a swim and spotted that exit door. He took it into the Tent and placed it in his room without anyone noticing.

After discovering there was nothing on the other side, he wrote "Not An Exit Door" on it and placed it against the wall.

Thank you for reading my hyperfixated ramblings! I hope it was enjoyable for you, and I had a ton of fun putting this together. :)

#my art #art #blender #blender3d #artwork #the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc jax #i literally made this in one day. am i insane????

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starlightsalvatore · 1 year ago

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hunger / damon salvatore x reader

i'm back !!! I needed to write a damon one-shot while I work on a new fic and this just tumbled right out of me lol

hunger / damon salvatore x reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: everything??? drinking, swearing, blood sharing, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p-in-v, a tiny bit of degradation?? this is self indulgant filth, seriously 18+ mdni

You ran a hand through your hair as you walked back and forth, unsure of what else to do with the restless energy surging through your system as you tried to fight one of your most basic, primal urges… hunger. Your fingers drummed against your thigh as you tried to focus on anything else, find something in your brain worth occupying your mind and switching course from the visuals running through your head. Your recent transition had been a shock to everyone, and Stefan had you on a tight leash to keep you in check… and you’d been on board, at first. You never wanted to cause harm, to be the reason someone else’s life ended, but with the itch in your veins threatening to undo you completely you couldn’t really find it in you to care anymore.

You heard your door push open and your head snapped up to see Damon walking in, two glasses and a bottle in his hand with an unamused expression, “if you don’t knock it off I’m going to have to replace the floor,” he said, setting everything on the dresser before pouring two generous cups of bourbon.

“Not now, Damon,” you sighed, ignoring him entirely as your feet remained on course.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked and you shook your head.

“Not really,” you said as he shoved a glass in your hand, his eyes telling you to drink which you did… all in one gulp and he was a little surprised as he took it to refill.

“Well, something’s gotta give,” he replied as you finished the second as quickly as the first. “At this rate the bottle will be gone in a minute and I’m not replacing original flooring.” He gripped your shoulders, halting your movements and you huffed, looking up at him.

“I’m hungry, Damon,” you said, as if it pained you to do so and he furrowed his brow.

“The freezer is full- oh,” he cut himself off, realizing that’s not what you meant as a smirk spread across his features. “You want your blood at 98.6,” he said and you rolled your eyes, pushing him off you.

“Will you cut it out?” You poured another glass, hoping at some point the alcohol would subdue your cravings but you knew that was about as likely as him leaving you alone, so you tried another angle. “I can’t… Damon, the blood bags aren’t doing it for me, I can’t think, I can’t sleep… will you please take me out?” For a moment you thought he’d say yes, revel in the opportunity to feed with abandon with someone else, but it wasn’t that easy.

“No can do, sweetheart,” he replied and your brows pinched. “I’ve got enough on my plate without you losing control and giving me more bodies to deal with.” He was right, there was too much going on and you spinning out wasn’t an option, but that didn’t make it any easier of an answer to tolerate. He gave you a once over, it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to take you out… he would have loved to, but you were new and he knew you could eventually get to where he was, one day you’d be able to feed and leave them alive with no memory of what had happened, but that day wasn’t today, you had a long way to go and he couldn’t afford to have you slip up.

But… he couldn’t afford to have you slip up. One look told him you were wound tight, the diet Stefan had you on was restrictive, never enough to fully satisfy, and the less you drank the tighter you spun, threatening a catastrophic snap he could only assume was looming on the horizon with how frustrated you looked right now. He ran through his options, knowing letting you sit in this hunger any longer would result in a much bigger problem, but the only thing he could think of posed another set of issues and would lead to him teetering on the edge instead of you.

He let out a sigh, closing the distance between you and plucking the glass from your hands to discard on the dresser and you looked up at him questioningly, the invasion of space catching you by surprise. His normally bright eyes were dark and swimming with something you couldn’t understand, deep blue pools you found yourself getting lost in as you waited for him to say something. “You need to feed,” he said and your eyes fluttered shut just at the thought.

“I need to feed,” you whispered and he nodded, catching your chin between his fingers and forcing your head back up when you tried to look down and the action had your breath catching somewhere in your throat.

“You still haven’t felt it, have you?” he asked, voice low and you shuddered. “What it’s like to sink your teeth into something…” you shook your head, Stefan hadn’t allowed you to drink anything that didn’t come from a cup. “Poor thing,” he chuckled, he could feel the tension radiating off you in waves, you were practically shaking beneath him as you fought to retain your grip on your sanity, on your control.

“Damon,” you sighed, eyes pleading and he just smiled as he gripped your hand and brought it up to his neck, the pulse beneath your fingers driving you wild.

“When you feed you have to be careful… if you bite just along here,” he said, dragging your fingers along the vein, “you can control the flow. It doesn’t have to be messy,” he explained and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the subtle way his skin moved with each beat of his heart, the sight bringing the veins beneath your eyes to the surface, your fangs descending.

“Don’t fight it,” he said, noticing you trying to rein it in, and you were having a hard time focusing on anything with the way his hands were trailing up your arms, pulling you closer. “Go on,” he tilted his head just slightly, “give it a try.” he encouraged and this pulled your focus, eyes snapping to his as you tried to ascertain if he was being serious. You had a lot left to learn, but blood sharing was personal, and you knew that… but all you saw in those dark blue eyes was a fire simmering beneath the surface you were sure was a mirror image of your own.

You slowly reached onto your tiptoes, as if he were a deer in the woods threatening to startle and bolt, but the closer you got the harder it was to resist, anticipation burning through your veins at the prospect of giving in. Your fangs were tentative as they broke the skin just where he’d indicated, but the first drop of blood immediately made you feel dizzy and intoxicated… It wasn't enough. You quickly grew feverish, your hand wrapping around his throat as you surged forward, crashing into the wall behind you and he let out a grunt as his back collided with the hard surface, pinned in place as you fed.

“There you go… that’s it,” he said, leaning back as he relaxed and let you take what you needed. His arm snaked around your waist while a hand brushed the hair from your face, cradling the back of your head as warm blood radiated through your body. A soft groan fell from his lips as you drank from him, and the sound elicited an unexpected reaction from you, your hand tightening around his throat and your body pushing flush against his and despite everything in you telling you to continue, you forced yourself back knowing if you didn’t stop you’d bleed him dry.

Your eyes were wild and satisfied as they met his, and he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the remnants and you were almost surprised when your lips wrapped around him, ensuring you didn’t waste a single drop. His smirk returned when he felt your tongue slide across his skin, “better?” he asked and you nodded, keeping him in your mouth for maybe a second longer than you needed to. The air was charged between you, you’d just crossed a line in the sand and you wanted to push a little further, go a little farther…

Part of him knew he should put an end to this… stop before it went any further. He knew it before he’d even offered up a vein for you, he knew as soon as he did he’d be teetering on this ledge and he didn’t have that much self control when it came to you. Perhaps, if he really analyzed the situation, he knew somewhere in the back of his mind why you’d been so worked up, he knew what you needed and instead of letting you wreak havoc on the blood cooler he let you push him against a wall and take what you wanted, he let you feed from him in the most intimate way he could think of.

And when you were looking up at him like that, eyes mischievous and holding an unspoken challenge with his blood still on your plump lips, who was he to resist? Your chest was heaving with anticipation as you waited for him to do something, anything, and the movement was so fast you almost didn’t register his hand curling around your throat, flipping you around and slamming you against the wall with such force you were sure you’d be dead if you were human. Your gasp of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, searing and frenzied as he connected your lips and kissed you with a hunger that rivaled your own only moments ago.

You both fought for dominance, neither one of you willing to submit just yet but you were outmatched… he grabbed your wandering hands and pinned them above your head, grip so tight you whined as he kissed down your neck, biting into you the same way you’d done with him and you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips as he did. Your hips rolled forward and feeling his hardening length against you gave you the surge of confidence you needed to break your hands free, sliding down his chest to pull his shirt apart, buttons flying and clattering against the floor as you pushed the fabric over his shoulders.

His lips were greedy across the expanse of your chest as he nipped and sucked the soft skin, tearing your shirt to shreds as he pulled it from you, a mess of fabric in your wake as you surged forward and pushed him into the wall opposite you, regaining your upper hand. Glass shattered on the floor around you as the force rattled the dresser but you couldn’t find it in you to care what had broken as your hands pulled his belt free, fingers quickly undoing the button as you sank to the floor and pulled his jeans with you.

His length stood erect in front of you and you were quick to take him in your mouth, focusing your tongue on his swollen tip as your hand worked what didn’t fit, and you couldn’t help but moan around him at the groan that fell from his lips, “such a good girl,” he cooed, his sweet words undercut by the harsh hand in your hair gripping and pulling you closer, forcing you to gag around him and the sensation had his head falling back against the wall. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sharp pain in your scalp and the way he was hitting the back of your throat, but all you could focus on was the throbbing between your thighs and he didn’t miss the way you clenched them together, desperate for friction.

You were quickly on your back, too caught up in the moment to bother moving to the bed and you pushed glass aside as he settled between your legs, tearing your underwear off and diving in like a man starved and you could feel his smirk against you at your surprised moan, head hitting the floor as your back arched in pleasure. He switched between your clit and your entrance, not giving either attention long enough to give you what you really needed, and you whined as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging harshly.

“Damon, please,” you sighed, hips bucking against his face and he focused his attention on your sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue expertly working you up as you shamelessly moaned his name. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew with the way you kept slamming each other against walls and the floor, the breaking glass, and the sounds falling from both your lips someone might come to make sure you were alright, but you couldn’t find it in you to care… not when he felt as good as he did between your legs.

Your moan changed in pitch when he slid two fingers into your entrance and it went straight to his cock, his head swimming as he watched you come close to falling apart above him. When he crooked his fingers just so your grip in his hair tightened, pulling him closer as you started to grind against him, “fuck, just like-” you were cut off by your own moan when he started massaging that spot inside you, legs trembling as you careened off the ledge. His touches remained merciless as pure euphoria surged through your veins, your head cloudy as your body trembled.

“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered against you, kissing his way up your body and you tugged him closer to reconnect your lips, tongues swirling against each other as you tasted yourself on him. His hands felt greedy and possessive as they roamed over you, gripping tight enough to leave bruises that would heal before they even had a chance to form, and it was as if neither of you could get enough. You pushed forward, tugging him up with you and all but throwing him onto the bed and his smirk was devilish as he watched you crawl on top of him.

He looked like he was about to say something but you didn’t give him the opportunity as you kissed him, rough and demanding as your hips settled above his, hand reaching between you to line him up at your entrance and you both let out groans as you took him inch by inch. The stretch was sweet, filling you almost to your breaking point as you settled fully and started to roll your hips against him, shuddering at the feeling.

“Fuck,” he moaned as you started to bounce up and down, setting an unforgiving pace and you felt like you could feel him everywhere, every nerve ending radiating with fire. He sat up to wrap his arms around you, hips bucking to meet yours in a way that had your head rolling back and he took the opportunity to sink his teeth into your neck and you had never felt pleasure like this before. His hand was firm around your throat as your body shook with each thrust and soon you were boneless in his lap, only able to hold yourself upright as he drank you in.

When he pulled back you licked along his lips, face changing at the taste of blood and he swore he’d never seen anything sexier. Neither of you was going to last much longer, not like this, and he delivered a rough smack to your ass that had you whining and rolling against him. “Oh my god,” you breathed out, letting your forehead fall against his and he smacked again, gripping the tender skin, “Damon-” you tried, but nothing would come out.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” he teased, gripping your hair and pulling you back to look at him, “oh, look at you… all cock drunk and fucked out,” he teased and you had nothing to say as a firm thrust had you seeing stars. You buried your face in his neck, fangs sinking into his skin as you felt your release barreling towards you, the mixture of blood and his steady thrusts too much to bear and a streak of red trailed down your body as you came, only able to shout his name as you cried out.

Your grip on him was maddening, pulling him right over the edge with you as you milked him for everything he had, and when you both slowed to a stop you were having a hard time catching your breath, your mind floating somewhere above you as you tried to return to your body. You felt his tongue along your chest, cleaning up your mess as you leaned back and he tried to commit the sight to memory… your hair wild, cheeks flushed, and skin dewy as blood lingered along your skin.

You still weren’t fully with him, stuck in a haze as you felt him whisk you into his bedroom, and into the bathroom and it wasn’t until you were under the stream of water with him that you hummed contently against his lips as he kissed you softly, “there she is,” he chuckled.

His hands were delicate as they roamed you, and yours slid down the front of his chest as you looked up at him, doe eyed and happy. “That was…” you trailed off, unsure of what word to use to fully sum it up and he placed another soft kiss on your lips.

“Everything you ever dreamed of?” he provided and you laughed as you swatted his chest.

“Hush,” you replied, feigning annoyance but you didn’t have it in you to feel anything other than bliss. The rest of your shower was spent with wandering hands and sweet kisses, a stark contrast to how rough and domineering you’d been with each other and when he pulled you into bed and wrapped himself around you, you looked up at him as your fingers trailed along his chest absentmindedly.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, and you flushed slightly under his gaze.

“It was more than I dreamed of,” you answered, and he raised a brow in question. “I haven’t… I hadn’t done that since turning, I didn’t know it could be like that,” you explained and realization passed over his features.

“My god,” he chuckled, “no wonder you were wound so tight.” His hand on your back was comfortable, holding you tight against him as he rubbed soothingly, “we’ll go on a little trip this weekend,” he said as you rested your head on his chest.

“A trip?”

You felt him nod, “away from all the chaos here… we’ll find you some warm bodies and I’ll teach you how to do it the right way, you don’t have to live a life of blood bags forever.”

“I don’t know, you seemed to do the trick,” you teased and he laughed.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’re missing.”

#damon salvatore #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore x you #damon salvatore fan fiction #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon salvatore smut #damon salvatore fluff #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fan fiction #tvdu

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xotoru · 7 months ago

Note

Guys im ovulating rn and this idea popped up into my head….. MHA boys x ovulating reader at a party or smth, and they notice? :3

I hope you like the way I did this nonie! also sorry this took so long....

Needy

𝖲𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌:𝗋𝖾𝗊!

𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: kissing, afab reader, swearing, p in v, fingering, making out, mostly suggestive, quick lazy smut mostly, badly proofread

𝖥𝖾𝖺𝗍: Katsuki.B, Shoto.T, Eijiro.K, Denki.K, Hanta.S, Izuku.M.

Bakugo.K

he would notice the second you don’t snap back at his attitude

The flashing lights and blaring music were nothing short of headache inducing.not a single part of you could care though. Even in the sea of people moving and jumping around all you could seem to think about was him.it had easily become too much, and soon you found yourself excusing your tired self to the kitchen where last you heard he was.

once you pushed past a few sweaty drunk people your eyes immediately landed on him. he was leaned against the sink drinking something from a red solo cup.his same rbf evident as he nodded along to the music by himself.even though he was probably annoyed you dragged him here and had a migraine, he look so beautiful. faint brushes of purple and blue lights flashed across his face from the living room. shining off his blonde hair perfectly.

Maybe it was the copious amounts of alcohol you had ingested, or maybe it was simply how desperate you were for him, but you immediately strode up to him. wasting no time to reach his bored frame. “What’s up?” He asked in his signature gruff voice.setting his drink down on the counter as he turned to face you fully.

you didn't even waste a second of your air before you were grabbing the collar of his shirt and smashing your lips onto his. every part of your movements were unplanned and messy, and you were fairly sure he could tell.

quickly he pulled apart, not out of disgust but it seemed like more confusion. “fucks up with you?” he spoke in slight shock.you simply couldn’t stand being apart from him for a second so naturally you found yourself grabbing his face and pulling him back to your lips. quickly he pulled away again.

“thought you were on your period or something?” he asked in that same harsh tone of his.voice laced with genuine confusion and concern considering just a week ago you were saying no to sex cause it was ‘that time of the month’. his eyes studied your face carefully.like he was trying to figure out the answer to his own question before you could. you knew it would be futile though. through the flashing purple lights and the

large amounts of alcohol I had consumed there was only one thing etched onto my face, desire.

your eyes flit down to his lips but you hold back for another second. deciding to explain the situation you were currently in and how you were basically gushing all over your tiny pink thong at just the thought of being remotely near him. as you went to speak, not an ounce of annoyance on your face(something which would have been very clear if it were any normal day and he spoke to you like that.) you watched his mouth form a small “o” shape. He had beat you to it.

“oh I get it now...” he said as he leisurely pulled you closer to him by your hips. grabbing a handful of your ass as he leaned in real close. “No wonder you weren’t being a brat back...” he spoke against your neck before attacking it with dark, hungry kisses. you leaned your head back slightly to give him more access. you didn’t know what you had gotten yourself into with this, but just by the way he was touching you right now, you could tell it was about to be fucking awesome.

Izuku.M

Wouldn’t notice till maybe someone who saw says it as a joke

Now Izuku is a very smart guy. He's far from some air head boyfriend or any sort of overall idiot. Yet nonetheless he could be a bit, oblivious, at times. no matter how hard you stared or how your rubbed your legs together whenever he would innocently hold your thigh, he didn’t seem to notice.

such small touches. ones that would be typically overlooked. small ghostings of his hand against yours as you guys pass through the crowd of dancing people. or his firm grip on his drink as he nodded along to some sort of music in the kitchen.his arms looking oh so ravishing in the black long sleeve under his old shirt. or maybe it was how he was slightly out of breath and sweaty from dancing. coming over to you panting under his breath ever so slightly and asking you if you were alright, he was always so considerate. he was going to drive you insane.

you guys had been in a small group of people in the kitchen. talking amongst each other about how college and hero work had been going so far.everyone laughing heartily at stupid jokes and jabs, except for you. you only seemed to have one thing on your mind. eyes not being able to rip themselves from his pretty long fingers as he used his hands to explain some new piece of his quirk he was working on. or how Adam's apple bobbed as he swung the last of his drink down, face wrinkling at the bitterness of the alcohol the same way it does when he's about to cum.

“Jesus y/n, are you ovulating or something, you look like you’re about to eat izuku whole!” jokes mina from across the two of you. everyone's faces turned to wide smiles as they typically did when mina cracked a joke.laughs leaving their mouths along with your own. it had taken the both of you by surprise she noticed. you didn’t even think you were being that obvious.but as the lighter died down and the rest of the group chatted amongst themselves izuku turned to you.

“Are you?”he asked quietly.you nodded slowly.facer red with sheer embarrassment.you could tell something in his expression shifted as you confirmed your friends suspicions.

That shift was exactly how you ended up in some random bedroom.lacy underwear being thrown across the room along with the rest of your clothes.

“should’ve told me baby...” he huffed out into your ear as his rough fingers grazed over your soaking pussy.rubbing the smallest tight circles over your aching clit.you ha really been waiting for this all night and now that it was finally being given to you, you were mess.drool pooled at the corners of your lips as your boyfriend kissed them.eventually sliding his long thin fingers into your desperate cunt.

you moaned into his mouth.the strong taste of water drink he had earlier falling onto your tongue as it covered his.his fingers moved in and out of you senselessly.he was always such a sweet and caring boyfriend, but the second he would to you needed him in any way he was like a completely different person.his eyes were dark as he went to kiss your neck.leaving a trail of bites and marks as he did so.

as you held onto his shoulder desperately for support, you could feel yourself building up to your climax faster.the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten as your needy pussy did the same around his fingers. your breathing became erratic and your moans got louder as you approached your high.you hadn’t even noticed how he had pulled down your tube top and was now sucking on your perky tits.he looked up at you as you came undone on his fingers.eyes glossed over with love and lust.he really was fucking beautiful, it wasn’t just the ovulation speaking.

Denki.K

is basically ovulating with you

as soon as he saw the skimpy dress you chose to wear for the party he was hooked on you.eyes never leaving you and your figure the whole night. he was trained on your tits when you faced him and trained on your ass when you walked away or were dancing.once you walked into the kitchen he was standing in he pulled you close to him. “You look awful pretty tonight baby,” he said smugly into your ear.a smirk painted on his lips as he did so.

“thanks” you said sweetly with a smile.trying your best to ignore the growing wetness between your legs at simply the feeling of being pressed up against him.he kissed your collar bone. a few times teasingly as you guys sat in the somewhat crowded kitchen.everyone around you being too drunk or too caught up in something else to notice or care.

as you pressed yourself further into him you could feel the bulge growing in his jeans.the feeling of his excitement so close to yours made you squeeze your legs together subtly. “wanna fuck?” he asked childishly in your ear.you weren’t even looking at him but you didn’t have to be to see the smug grin he had plastered on his face.subtly you nodded yes and grabbed his hand.pulling him off to the first bathroom you saw.you made sure to lock the door before quickly pulling him towards your and your lips.

you gripped his shirts as he kissed you back.both of your tongues moving together messily as he backed you up and sat yo on the counter.once yo guys pull apart he hastily began to take his jeans off, along with your panties which were practically drenched by now. he made no fault to line his achingly needy cock up with your entrance before pushing his hips into yours.

your mouth hung open as he pushed into you.looking up at him as he moved slowly.he knew it could be hard for you to take all of him sometimes so he always went slow to start out.your legs shook around him as he continued to thrust into your walls.large hands holding you up by your pretty soft thighs.

he quickened his pace.pushing himself further into you causing your stomach to curl and for your eyes to flutter.he was reaching every part of you that your fingers or any other guy for that matter, never could.his hips moved faster into yours.chasing his own high desperately seeing as he had been basically creaming his pants all night sincere first saw you all dolled up. “you feel so fucking good...” he whispered.chucking slightly under his breath.

“why’re you...mph-laughing?” you barely got out through his harsh thrusts and your moans.looking at him and his stupidly wide smile as he stared down at where you two were connected with confusion.

“not laughing at you...just huff I dunno...” he mumbled as you picked up his pace.biting his lip as he used the counter t stabilize himself while he pushed further intyour soaking cunt.you didn’t even career about his strange comment.lust taking over your mind as your head leaned back against the mirror behind you while he fucked into you.he made no sense a lot of the time, but boy could he fuck your brains out

Shoto.T

Wouldn’t realize at all I fear

He looked so good tonight, too good almost. He never normally dressed down so seeing him in those dark blue jeans and random tee shirt was making your eyes practically fall out of their sockets. as he talked to some people casually you couldn’t rip your eyes from his sender frame from the island in the kitchen where you were meant to be getting the two of you more drinks.

you swore you could feel knees go slightly weak as his lips curled into a small smile while he nodded along to whatever the person was saying.before you knew it you were strutting over to him desperately.

“Hey baby, where’re our drinks?” he asked as he looked down at your empty hands. you had honestly forgotten about the drinks as soon as he caught your eye from across the kitchen

you glanced over at the people he had been talking to quickly before turning back to look into his lidded eyes. “can we uhm...go” you asked timidly.nervous for what he would say. your palms already feeling clammy just from being near him.the wetness between your legs began to pool slowly as you stood there.

he nodded quickly without question. “yeah yeah of course” he said, voice laced with concern. He took his hand into your sweaty one and began to lead the two of you out of the crowded booming house. flashing lights and drunk sweaty swaying bodies would normally make you uncomfortable but with just the touch of his rough large hand gripping yours, your mind was plagued with utterly lewd thoughts of him.

it felt as if you had blinked and you were getting into the car. before he could speak to ask you what was wrong you were rushing my body over the center console and pulling hip lips to mine. surprisingly he kissed you back immediately. your lips were moving in an embarrassingly desperate way that made your face go flush and body lean further into his.

his eyes closed as his tongue meticulously fought yours for further touch.it was basically routine at this point for the two of you guys considering how many times you’ve had to sneak out of the dorms to his car so you could just be alone for some time, but nonetheless the riskiness of it all made you beyond excited. the fact that anyone could see us through the clear windows of his car made your thighs squeeze tighter tightly.

as we pulled away to catch our breath you could feel the way your eyes stared at his parted wet lips. the small ragged breaths coming in and out of it making you even more enamored with the boy in front of me. “back seat?” he asked nonchalantly. even in the toughest of training your body had never moved faster to do what a person had instructed of you. you were beyond desperate.

Hanta.S

would notice, y’all would not make it to that party

He knew as soon as he saw you wear that tiny dark red thong he had bought you for your birthday just a month ago that you were looking for trouble tonight.Your short dress riding up just ever so slightly below where the root of your last pregnancy scare covered your pretty cunt. you were hoping for something tonight, and although he was going to give it to you (like he did with everything you’ve ever wanted), he didn’t know how long he could wait.

Before you two even stepped into the crowded house he had his hand placed firmly on your plush thigh the whole ride there. “You're gonna crash driving like that...” you teased.honey voice breaking through the peaceful silence of the night time drive.

“I only need one hand to drive when you’re with me” he responded smugly.smirking ever so slightly as he spoke in a way he knew would get you riled up.you had always liked when he spoke so lowly.like he was saying something he only wanted you to hear. something so seductive or dirty it would only make sense for the words to only fall on your ears.

he squeezed your thigh without thinking much of it before turning back to the road.the dark knight flashed by city lights filling the atmosphere around the two of you. he always looked so beautiful with the bright lights of the city illuminating his every feature, but tonight especially he looked utterly gorgeous.the small smirk tugging on his lips as he kneaded the plush flesh of your thigh, and the small moles that nobody else had ever gotten close enough to see, and the way his dark messy hair sat on his head so perfect. you were struggling to stay in your passenger seat to say the least.

which is exactly why you didn’t, you simply couldn’t. your bodies moved for you causing you to end up sprawled across his lap.core dripping onto his leaky tip as you hovered over him. the fear that someone might catch you lost in the haze and fog of your mind

as you stared down into his lazy eyes which twitched ever so slightly as you lowered yourself onto him.

It was truly amazing how quickly you found yourself bouncing on him.hips and knees moving quicker than normal. you were hungry, you had been waiting for this practically all night. That's not to say he wasn’t enjoying himself either, his eyes which rested in the back of his skull and his lip which had found a home between his teeth were just a few tell-tale signs he was enjoying this plenty.

eventually, as his large hand found a way to your ever moving hips, he found the control to say something “Jesus I knew you were horny but...Huff...this is like a-fuck...whole new person” he sputtered out, his head bobbing slightly to the pace you moved up and down on him. His words or what they meant hadn’t even registered in your head as you stared into his deep dark eyes, falling into them slowly, as if you were drowning in your own ecstasy you gained from just looking at him.so depraved and needy although he had been given just what he wanted.

Once you both eventually reached your highs, shaking legs and tumbling hands and all, he spoke up again. “You're ovulating aren’t ya?” he asked slyly.a smirk tugging at his weak lips once again.your face flushed at his words. not expecting him to have known or noticed, you didn’t even realize how insane you had been acting ever since you both stepped foot into the car.

“how’d you know” you asked as you backed up from where you had been leaning over on his chest.still a bit out of breath but wanting to hear his answer nonetheless.

“you just rode me into another dimension without my help at all” he chuckled as he looked down to where you two were still connected. eyes flitting back up to your now flushed face as his lips light pecked your jaw before he effortlessly lifted you off of him and back into the passenger. looking at your fucked out blissful face once more before he reached into the backseat to grab the towel you guys used whenever you couldn’t wait till you got out of the car, which was more often then not surprisingly.

Eijiro.K

Would only know cause he tracks your cycle

As you guys got ready to go to your friends “small get together” you couldn’t pry your eyes off of him. no matter what you were doing or how much attention the task at hand required you couldn’t stop looking at him in your shared bathroom mirror. You ended up leaning over the counter further than you needed to to do your makeup or put some earrings on.hoping that he would catch a glimpse of your red thong from your dress as I rode up slightly.

just to secure his suspicions he check his phone quickly.opening his period tracker app and seeing [you], you were in fact ovulating.without even thinking he found himself pressed against the back of you.muscular arms wrapping around your waist.you hadn’t even noticed how his fingers slowly reached under your skirt.

before you even knew it your arms were shaking as you held yourself up of the could marble counter.your boyfriends thick cock thrusting in and out of you quickly.you were honestly shocked seeing how quickly he caught on to the fact you were honey, having no knowledge of the app on his phone.his large hands gripped your hips as they aloo held your dress up, keeping the fabric bunched up just enough for him to be able to see the fat of your ass moving against him as he thrusted into you.

his leaking mushroom tip was hitting your insides so perfectly, it made you feel stupid how your eyes were rolling back as your mouth hung open slightly.fluid moans and slurred words spilling from your lips with no end in sight.your tits swaying inside of the loose fabric as his hips moved against yours.eventually they smiled out from the falling top.you swore you could see his eyes light up ever so slightly n the reflection of the mirror as that happened.

as you were too far gone tontine he leaned down to be right at your ear level. “so fuckin’ pretty, gushing all over my cock just for me...” he whispered filthily.his hard pistoning of his hips making your legs shake as they held you up.the heels you had opted to wear were making your feet oh so uncomfortable as you stood in the same spot for far too long, but you were honestly too cockdrunk to even care in the slightest.

slowly you snaked your arm behind you to pull his neck closer to you.fingertips grazing over the edge of his hair gently.your touch ghosting over the back of his neck so delicately.he whimpered ever so slightly in your ear as you continued your movement on your fingertips.

his lips came down to suck on your neck sweetly.leaving big messy kisses to the sensitive skin as he didn't stop his movements for a split second.your poor pussy squelching around him as you sucked is cock in even further.desperate for your own release as he rubbed against your wet gummy walls.

once you could feel yourself getting close you involuntarily squeezed around him more.his hips choked at the acton but nonetheless, he quirked his pace.leaving a few harsh smacks to your ass as he pushed further and faster into you.before you knew it you were coating his cock in your stringy cum.panting as you tired your best to reel yourself in.thank God for that app.

I hope someone gets the ptv reference on sero’s :(

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beloveds-embrace · 8 months ago

Note

rugby player Simon and his pretty little balerina partner. Thats it. Thats whats currently plaquing my mind

Now that you’ve said it I’m thinking about them too because YES 😩 i tried a more headcanony style for this, really had no idea what to write as a drabble

• You first met Simon “Ghost” Riley during an injury rehab session. He’s there nursing a rough tackle, while you’re recovering from an overworked ankle. Despite his intimidating size and silence, he notices how gracefully you move even while stretching, and you can’t help but admire his sheer size even if he’s making the nurses nervous.

• Ghost is, honest to god, shy about approaching you at first; why would delicate, lovely you want someone of his type and build to approach you? But he still gets roped into conversation when you tease him for struggling with a basic stretching exercise. “I’m built for smashing into blokes, not folding like you do.” he grumbles, but he doesn’t sound truly bothered. You are sure you can even hear the amusement. And this is how you end up exchanging number and texting, until he finally asky you out on a proper date.

• He’s genuinely amazed at your discipline and talent, often catching himself zoning out while watching you rehearse. You tease him for staring, but he’s truky awestruck by how effortlessly you glide across the floor, almost looking weightless.

• You love watching him play rugby. Seeing him control the field with raw strength and precision is hot. You start attending his matches, cheering louder than anyone else when he tackles an opponent or scores. His favorite cheerleader- his best girl <3

• Ghost introduces you to his gym routines, and you try (unsuccessfully) to keep up with his weightlifting. You love the view of his muscles flexing, though, and you don’t try to hide it. You also love sitting on his back while he does pushups, giving him a kiss ever so often in encouragement.

• In return, you teach him some basic ballet moves to improve his agility to help him. The image of this massive, intimidating man attempting pliés is hilarious, but he’s surprisingly nimble. “Don’t tell the lads, yeah, doll?” he huffs, though his amusement is clear and it has you giggling.

• Simon loves how tiny you feel when he wraps his arms around you. After games, he picks you up effortlessly, spinning you around as you laugh and lean down to kiss him much to the whistles and hoots of his teammates. Neither of you care anyways.

• After a game, he’s all adrenaline and intensity, body taut. You tease him by saying, “Don’t you dare bring that sweaty self near me, Simon Riley.” but he pulls you into a heated kiss anyway, pinning you gently against a wall in the hallways of the stadium.

• He loves when you practice in front of him wearing your ballet leotard. The combination of your grace and your form-fitting outfit gets his heart and more racing, though he keeps his composure… mostly.

• Simon is also your biggest cheerleader during your performances, sitting in the front row with a bouquet of flowers that looks comically small in his massive hands. He always looks proud, even if he doesn’t say much. And he absolutely glares or shushes anyone who is causing a ruckus and taking the spotlight off you.

• He joins you most of the time in the backstages, and when you’re feeling nervous before a performance, he cups your face in his big, warm hands and whispers, “You’re the most talented person in the room. Show ‘em who you are.”

• You return the favor by helping him relax before games. You massage his shoulders and give him little pep talks, which he pretends not to need but secretly loves. Sometimes of them are even recorded on his phone for the very rare occasions you can’t make it to his games.

• Said it before but I’ll say it again: you love how his body feels next to yours- rugby has made him all broad shoulders and powerful muscles, and he loves how delicate your hands feel running over his skin. Likewise, he loves caressing your skin and rubbing creams and ointments to your aching feet muscles.

• He calls you “Twinkle Toes” which sounds sarcastic at first but is said with so much affection that it melts your heart.

• You call him “Big Softie” because, despite his tough exterior, he’s the sweetest with you. He pretends to hate it, but he secretly loves when you use it in private. Had a stupid smile on his face when saw it was how you had your contact for him saved.

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yourlipstogodsears · 12 days ago

Text

NSFW ABCs: Michael “Robby” Robinavich

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Robby’s big strong arms and pudgy belly are the softest landing for you post orgasm. Wrapped in his warm embrace as he whispers in your ear softly and rakes his fingers through your hair his finger tips dragging on your scalp to make you sleepy. “Did so good for me… you looked so beautiful Angel..” he mumbles as he nuzzles his bearded face into your neck from behind.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His hands. He loves how big and strong they are. How they hold you steady when you ride him. How they fit in yours when he interlocks your fingers as he laps at your throbbing clit and weeping little hole.

Robby is an ass man. He loves when you wear skirts or thongs. He loves your plush thighs but they lead the way to your heart shaped ass. He damn near pounces when you’re laying on your tummy reading in your bed. Your ass looking soft and plush under the hem of your oversized tshirt. He’s crawl on the bed and lay over you, one arm around your neck and the other holding your hip as he grinds his hardness against your ass. “Jus can’t help it angel, you looked like a dream laying here… wanna put the book down f’me?” He’d coo, his thick cock nuzzled between your cheeks and he’d tilt your hips just right so he can tease your pussy with his bulge. It always makes you cave.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Robby is a cum eater. Either yours or his. He doesn’t care. He won’t let anything go to waste. He will lap at your orgasms when he eats you out or tongue you after he’s cum inside your pussy to push his cum inside. “Daddy’s cum belongs in there huh.. make you feel so full don’t it?”

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Robby has a Size Kink. His hands swallow your waist with sheer size difference and it makes him so hot under the collar. He loves the way his big fingers sink into your wet cunt. The way your velvet walls grip his fingers, his thumb rubbing your clit without any strain or stretch to reach. His hand makes you look small and at his mercy. he’s usual so sweet and gentle as always but there’s a primal feeling in Robby when he looks at the size difference. Cooing about your “tiny aching pussy” needing his big fingers to fill her up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Yes of course Robby has had other partners, Jake’s Mom and Heather Collins are no exception.

He definitely knows his way around female anatomy. Sometimes annoyingly so. He gets cocky when you’re 2 orgasms deep and you say you can’t give him another. He tsks and mumbles as his fingers curl in a “come here” motion dragging perfectly to that spot inside you. “You can gimme one more.. see? don’t wanna make you seem like a liar now do I?” He smirks as another white hot orgasm starts to crash over you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Prone Bone. Robby read about it somewhere and never went back. Yes he’s a nerd like that. Reading articles about sex. He’s that kinda older man. He wants to be well informed. It’s just how he is. He knows it’s deeper penetration and g-spot stimuli. Access to your clit and double penetration if he wanted to.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He can be goofy or serious. Depending on his mood. Foreplay can be very silly and teasing. sarcastic playful comments while he undresses you and kisses over your body.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Robby isn’t shy from chest or body hair. He just kinda lets it do its thing. But when he plans on you guys being intimate, he will trim down his pubes just to make it more enjoyable for you. More shaft area and less pubes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Robby is the king of intimacy. Robby is incapable of having sex without feelings. Hooksups and one night stands aren’t his style.

J = Jack off (handjob headcanon)

Robby groans with everything in him. Back arches, hand down his carhartt work pants. He’s too lazy to even strip the moment he gets home he just crashes on the couch and goes to town. Sometimes it’s how he can get himself to conch out after a long shift.

Robby is the kinda man to put his hand over yours and guide you to stroke him if he needs you. In his car, bar bathroom, anywhere discreet. He’s hissing and panting trying to keep from moaning and groaning too loud. Mumbling “that’s perfect angel..” “ahh.. just like that..” “don’t stop.. wanna cum for you..” “don’t pull your hand back.. wanna let you feel it..”

And you do.. you feel his cock pulse under your touch, his cum spurting onto his tummy or his boxers. It’s an addicting feeling knowing you can get him off. Seeing him cum is one thing but to feel his breath change against your face and neck. To feel his orgasm rip through him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Daddy kink (self explanatory), size kink, competency kink, there’s such a list for him-

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Benchseat of the old truck. Knee deep into the plush velvet, his heavy cock pounding into you. Slick run down your thighs, the gentle creaking of the truck suspension as the truck shifts with each shift.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He wants you to feel good, he wants the intimacy and connection of sex. It’s not just about getting off for him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Blood play, he’s a doctor the amount of blood born pathogens and things that go through his head.

slapping or hitting during sex is a no go.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Robby loves to give. He’s such pleaser.

His nose rubs perfectly on your clit during oral.

But he loves a good blowjob or mouth warming. Just holding his cock in your mouth letting you mindlessly drool, “such a drooly little baby… you love my fat cock down your throat huh?” He coos and his hips lift and more spit slicks his length.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s always slow and sensual. But on occasion he will be faster rougher. If there’s a rush or he just needs to be rougher like If he’s stressed out.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t like them. But if you ask him real pretty he can’t tell you no.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As long as benefits outweigh risk and it can be done safely.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Robby has three round max before he’s panting and needing a break. But that doesn’t mean he can’t use his fingers or mouth.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them?)

Robby doesn’t own toys but if you own them he might experiment with you. or go out and buy some with you no matter how deep red his face gets when you explain certain toys he doesn’t understand the purpose of.

U = Unfair (how much does he like to tease?)

Robby is a huge tease, playfully. Unless he’s in a mood or you are a brat. Then the teasing turns into playful mock cooing as he gives you enough to stimulate but not enough to cum.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Robby more grunts than moans. It comes from deep inside his chest it reverberates against you when he’s got you bent over his chest against your back as he fucks into you.

W = Wild card (random headcanon)

Breeding kink. Robby always wanted a family. Always. So when you two talk about having kids he wants to cum inside you over and over, prop your hips up and your feet on the headboard. Anything and everything to make sure you get pregnant by him. He’d be so sweet and caring through the conception, and laying and cuddling with you mumbling about how good you’d look as a mama to his kids and how you needta keep your hips tilted and his cum inside you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Robby has a big of a dad bod. It’s no secret you can see his tummy when he wears his black scrubs even if black is supposed to be a slimming color. It’s really attractive on him. He’s like a cuddly teddy bear. He’s always let his body hair grow. It’s most work to trim and shave than to let nature run its course.

Below the belt it’s no secret Robby is well endowed. His air of confidence and self assured personality is big dick energy. He doesn’t brag about his size he just kinda lets you discover it for yourself. but the look on your face when you do makes him blush all the way to his neck.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Robby doesn’t need sex all the time so he’s okay going without if he has to. I mean he’s been single for a lot of his adult life. He had a couple relationships but it’s never needed sex.

He’s older now so sometimes he’s on you the minute you walk through the door of his place or he can do the whole night just chillin on the couch with you. He makes sure sex isn’t an object in his relationships, but it sure does sweeten the deal.

Z = Zzz (how fast they fall asleep afterward)

If it’s sex after he gets off work he might conch out immediately without even meaning to. I’m talking old man falling asleep mid conversation. Other times he stays up and talks and debriefs. Likes. Dislikes. What to try next time. Aftercare stuff.

#the pitt #dr michael robinavitch #dr robby #dr robinavitch #michael robinavitch #dr robby brain rott #dr robby smut #michael robinavitch smut

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lilykatelyn-blog · 6 months ago

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NIKI BF HEADCANONS PT 2.

warnings: none <3

requested by: @straykids143stay

WE’RE BACK!!

ᰔᩚ so he would totally make you do dance challenges with him. like 10 times out of 10, he’d make you film something with him and then post it to his insta.

ᰔᩚ basically bro wouldn’t even care about PDA. he’s so affectionate with jay sometimes so he’d totally be fine with it.

ᰔᩚ lowkey, he’d have probably met you at a concert and worked up the courage to sign your paper and secretly write his number on there.

ᰔᩚ PLEASE RUN YOUR FINGERS THROUGH THOSE LUSCIOUS LOCKS, he’s so fine, I might crash out. he’d totally have everyone gagged with his looks when he winks at you.

ᰔᩚ he absolutely doesn’t mind you biasing another member, as long as he’s your bias wrecker. and I feel like he’d be so in love if you told him you loved dancing.

ᰔᩚ TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM, he does NOT get enough love, our baby. I-Land took his self image, crumpled it up, tossed it to the depths of hell, brought it back, cut it up, put it back together, shredded it, ate it, swallowed it, shit it out, and then put it in the garbage disposal.

ᰔᩚ he would so be ticklish. like just one tinnyyy finger running up his arm and he’d be cackling on the floor. give him a tiny kiss on his jaw and he’d be giggling from how much it tickled.

ᰔᩚ his morning voice is so deep, you cannot prove me wrong. HAVE YOU HEARD HIS AD LIBS IN CRIMINAL LOVE? BRO IS 19 AND CAN SPEAK LIKE FREAKING SURTUR FROM THOR RAGNAROK

that’s all I have for now my lovelies 💕💕💕

Pls request if u want more because I will so totally upload some more awesome sauce head canons.

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 2 years ago

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Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley Imagines List

Before you ask, yes I been meaning to use @ave661 renders ever since she posted the Dad!Ghost part 2. Did I use most of them in this post? You know damn well I did.

Did I put in so much work into this one post? Yes. Am I going to be upset if it doesn't do as well as the ones I didn't put much effort in (Ahem the quokka Price imagine)? Also yes.

Tagging people who I think would like this: @puff0o0, @blingblong55. Honestly that was it but if y'all wanna be tagged in the next post then tell me in the replies :)

Parings: Ghost x Wife!Reader

❥ Dad!Simon who values nothing else over spending time with you and your child, even if it's something as simple as him and your little one laying down on your lap while you watch tv together. (Top left pic 🥺)

❥ Dad!Simon who gives the baby a bath for the first time, doing his best not to get soap in their eyes. Him rubbing the baby's head gently with his thumb to wash the suds off the little one's head and hair while they look up at him and coo.

❥ Dad!Simon who had a heart attack the moment he heard the baby cough while they're still in the baby bath net. He just turned away for a second to grab the towel behind him, the one moment he took his eyes off them, the little rascal tried to drink the bath water.

❥ Dad!Simon who's ever so gentle with dressing the baby, they're too little and too fragile in his eyes. Watching the baby try to chew on their own fist while he puts their little socks on. (Matching skeleton mittens for the little baby 🥺)

❥ Dad!Simon who loves hearing his baby let out such loud giggles whenever he kisses them, it's music to his ears to hear his little one let out such a hearty laugh, their little arms and legs flailing because their face is being tickled by his stuble.

❥ Dad!Simon who absolutely adores when his baby attempts kissing him or you (their momma) because it's basically just them having their tiny hands on his or your face while they're open-mouthed and almost headbutting their little lips on either yours or your husband's face.

❥ Dad!Simon who absolutely love nap time, mainly because he takes the naps with them. Nothing more sweet than waking up with the little one's life you two brought to this world.

❥ Dad!Simon who you found awake in the middle of the night to put the baby back down to sleep.

"Come on now pumpkin, you should let your momma rest. She's extremely tired of taking care of both of us.." Simon whispers while he cradles the baby in his arms, trying to lull them back to sleep.

You couldn't help but smile, knowing that what you do doesn't go unappreciated.

"I would never get tired taking care of you two" You said in a hushed tone, making Simon's head snap to the doorway.

To see you, his loving wife look at him as if he was the most important thing in this world reminded him if why he wanted to marry you a few years back.

❥ Dad!Simon who receives a video you sent him while he's deployed of the baby waking up from a nap.

❥ Dad!Simon who doesn't notice you in the room while you were trying to collect laundry, he was working out, you caught him doing push ups and your baby's attempts in copying their dad.

❥ Dad!Simon who bought the baby a little stuffie that they now are emotionally attached to and bring everywhere, yeah the baby constantly signals Simon to kiss the stuffie too.

❥ Dad!Simon who had to train Riley not to lick the baby so much because dog slobber and even though Riley was well behaved, poor thing didn't have much of a self-control the first time you guys brought the baby home.

❥ Dad!Simon who thinks it's absolutely adorable that his little one likes Riley so much.

"Dada!" The baby called out for Simon.

"Dada, Ri-ley" They said, pointing out a little finger to your family dog.

"Yeah pumpkin, that's Riley" Simon said, letting the little one make a beeline and waddled quickly towards Riley, giving the dog a hug with their tiny arms.

❥ Dad!Simon who spends forever looking for the skull part of his mask only to find the baby trying to chew on it, couldn't really blame them because the sight was cute and he knew how agitated they were with teething.

❥ Dad!Simon who constantly washed his gloves and almost never took it off during your baby's teething stage because god they were a strong biter. The gloves helped cushion the pain of the bites a lot.

❥ Dad!Simon who swore his heart was about to burst when he saw you and the baby meet him before he was able to go home after deployment for a surprise. (Of course Price was the one who set it up, he wanted to see his grandchild (might as well be)

"Dadadada–dada—da" Your baby squealed out while reaching out, recognizing Simon almost too fast even with the mask on.

"Pumpkin," Simon says as he takes your baby out of your arms and into his "–yeah, dada's here now. Missed me like I missed you?" Simon asks the baby as if they could actually respond.

The little one let out a happy little gurgle, hands reaching out for Simon's face.

"I'll take that as a yes" Simon tenderly kisses the top of the baby's head through his balaclava.

❥ Dad!Simon who loves baby hugs, the tiny little arms providing a bit of warmth while he holds his baby in his, rubbing their little head with his gloved hand and fingers.

Taskforce interacting with little Ghostie

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dissociativewriter · 6 days ago

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Unnatural Affinity- Part 14

Isekai!Reader x Love and Deepspace

wc: 2.3k

cw: angst, questioning, grief, regret, cheesy nickname, crisis

Synopsis: You and Sylus visit Skyhaven.

author’s note: I need to stop posting things at four a.m. because I’m never sure if they’re good >_< anyways, I hope yall are ready for Em’s part next because I am super excited <3

taglist: @animegamerfox @ixloom819 @magennta09 @an-ever-angry-bi @corvid007 @vigtore @ph1lo-s0ph1a @ameili @babyx91 @sadsaidthesadthing @bidisasterforevermore @liz9898 @iconoclastoc @elegantdeerlady @lifumi @auraficial @plzdonutpercieveme @dolledbunnytail @junebuggz @mangooes @anatherone @skulzooka @yuhuahuaaa @nm4565natty @feikyuu @lunia-likes-pomegranet @xfangirl-trashx @glitterykingdomangel @eialovescats @mimiu3usoft @alyssac9 @000rpheus @novaisbebita @coffeedragonhobbyist @udejoenrlddo @lanxianschoenheit @paper--angel @xyzbeloved @rafayelridesfisheatsfish @myheartfollower @nightmarewasteland @feralwolfkat @junni-berry @chiikasevennn @lethalasylum @loudpiratepirate @sweetnightowl @rafaissance @white-wolves-and-golden-sunrises @iunse @asilaydead

Series Masterlist

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Sylus said, glancing over at you.

You took a deep breath, turning away to look out the car window. “I’ll be alright,” you finally muttered. “I’m stronger than you think.”

“I know you’re strong,” Sylus sighed. He tapped his finger against the steering wheel. “I just don’t want you to get in a situation you don’t want to be in.”

The car fell silent.

You knew Sylus was right, deep down. You just didn’t want to admit it. Why were you pushing yourself to do this?

To feel strong again, came the answer from the pit of your stomach.

It was another thing you didn’t want to admit; how weak you had felt since that day in Skyhaven. That feeling of helplessness hadn’t gone away. It was like when that bedroom door had locked, all your self-worth had been locked away with it. In the back of your mind, you were starting to wonder if maybe Em was right. Maybe you weren’t cut out for this, maybe it’d be better if you just kept quiet.

Going back to Skyhaven, back to that apartment, filled you with dread. But you felt like it was something you had to do. Something that could let you prove yourself.

Something that would put distance between you and the person that was crying in the guest bedroom with bloodied fists.

Sylus eyed you as he parked the car. “Say the word, little dove, and we go back home.”

Home.

Did you even have a home anymore?

The apartment was dark.

Lights off, curtains drawn. At first glance, everything looked perfect. Pristinely clean, sleek furniture, nothing out of place. Just like a showroom.

“Onychinus’s armory is more homey than this,” Sylus remarked. He paused as he picked up an apple plushie, wrinkled as though someone had squeezed it too hard.

Sylus cast it aside. “I never cared for apples.”

“Aren’t you a fruit vendor?” you asked. “Apples are a pretty basic fruit.”

“Well, I guess I simply don’t like ‘basic’ things.” He smirked.

You paced around the apartment, unease settling in your bones. “You’re sure Caleb will be here today?” you asked, glancing in the near-empty kitchen.

Sylus nodded. “He’s not scheduled for a mission with the Fleet. Unless some unforeseen incident arises, you should be able to have your chat with the Colonel with no interruptions.” He checked his phone. “From the looks of it, he should be arriving in a few minutes.”

Your fingers flexed. Leaving Sylus in the living room, you looked around the rest of the apartment, just the same as it had been when you’d arrived a few weeks ago. Startlingly empty, always leaving you feeling like there had to be more to see.

For the first time in a long time, you were reminded of Em’s eyes.

As you stood in the doorway of what was your bedroom for fourteen unbearable hours, you couldn’t feel any shock at its cleanliness. The door was fixed, all traces of your blood and Sylus’s gunshot, gone. The tiny divet in the floor-to-ceiling window where you tried to break it open, gone. The torn note, gone.

Any trace of you, of your agony, gone.

“What are you doing here?” A cold voice came from the living room.

You moved with a start, rushing to get back before things escalated too much.

“Believe it or not, seeing you isn’t how I wanted to spend my day.” Sylus frowned.

You skidded into the room with wide eyes, gripping an arm chair for balance.

Caleb’s mouth gaped as he took you in. “Sunshine?” he breathed. “Is it really you?”

Sylus quietly scoffed.

“Hey, Caleb.” You waved sheepishly. “How’s it going?” You shifted on your feet.

“Things are so much better now that you’re here. Are you alright, is anything—” Caleb stepped to get closer to you, but was quickly stopped by Sylus’s outstretched hand.

“Ah-ah, Colonel. Keep your distance,” Sylus chastised.

Caleb’s gaze hardened. “What is he doing here?” he asked you pointedly, ignoring Sylus altogether.

You took a deep breath.

“I’m here because I don’t trust you to not bring your little ‘sunshine’ back to Em like the lap dog you are,” Sylus said sharply.

Caleb deflated at that, slumping down into a chair. “No. No, I’m not going to do that,” he muttered. “I know that’s not the right thing to do now.”

You walked over to Sylus, standing just behind him as you watched Caleb. “When did you realize that?” you asked, voice more sour and shaking than you intended.

“Somewhere between the proposal to lock you in and the love confession.” Caleb looked everywhere but you. “I don’t know when, I don’t know how I didn’t notice… she was like a completely different person. And you… it hurt you so much. Nothing is worth that,” he said firmly, finally looking you in the eye.

You inched closer, feeling Sylus’s eyes on your back as you approached Caleb. You felt that same caution, that same dread as when you turned the knob on that locked door. But the regret in his eyes pulled you closer and you found yourself sitting on the coffee table across from Caleb.

“Why didn’t you do something before?” you asked after a few beats of silence. “Why didn’t you do something when it mattered?”

Caleb sighed. “I didn’t want to go against her,” he admitted. “Everything in my life was for her, to make her happy. When she asked me to do that to you, it was like I couldn’t say no.” He scooted closer to you, grabbing your hand in his. You saw his eyes flick to Sylus briefly, but his gaze quickly returned to you. “I know that was wrong of me. You were the one piece of happiness in my life that didn’t revolve around her. I shouldn’t have bent to her will so easily and let you get hurt.”

You scanned his face, trying to figure if this was genuine or just a way to earn your forgiveness. “You always insist on having your happiness ride on hers. Why is that? What can’t you let yourself be happy?”

Caleb was quiet for a while before he spoke, voice breaking. “I can’t find it in myself to do anything more than survive for myself. Em… she was always there, always this bright spot in my life. Soon, it was like I was living more for her than for myself. I don’t think—” his voice cracked. “I don’t think I would have made it this far if it wasn’t for her.” His hand tightened around your own. “But in all my talk of how she couldn’t see how I was, I didn’t see how she truly was. I don’t know how I missed it, how she hid something like that from me.”

He stared at the floor for a few minutes as you let the words settle between you, the realization that Caleb wasn’t so different from you. The struggle to live for yourself something all too familiar. Caleb swallowed. “Why did you come back?” he mumbled. “I don’t deserve to see you again.”

Sylus watched from behind you, watched as you empathized with the Colonel’s emotions, already forgiving his sins.

Sylus didn’t think he could ever forgive him, sob story or not.

“I needed to talk to you,” you explained quietly. You took your hand out of his grasp, not noticing how his own hand flinched back from the loss of your warmth as you rubbed your hands over your thighs. “I’m not from this world.” You tried to be as simple as you could, holding off on explaining the game just yet. Better to start with the Isekai situation, you figured.

Caleb’s brow furrowed. “From another world? Is this a deepspace anomaly?” He dragged his fingertips over his jaw. “But there wasn’t one the day you came here. And you would’ve already returned to your original world,” he murmured.

“There’s more,” you sighed, closing your eyes as you psyched yourself up. “I had this game, called Love and Deepspace.” You tried to be careful about explaining it all. But even by the fifth try, it was still clumsy and messy.

You were trying to be more mindful of how you addressed it all, thinking about how Zayne had broken you apart by showing you how your own emotions had clouded your judgment too much, though you weren’t sure how good of a job you did.

At the mention of the other Love Interests, Caleb tensed, eyes flicking to Sylus, but he didn’t look surprised.

Sylus was examining the Colonel with the eyes of a hawk as you went through the game mechanics. He observed the Colonel’s tight fists, clenched jaw, short breath. Calculated how fast he could pull you away if the Colonel snapped.

As your explanation came to an end, Caleb was silent.

“I knew she had other guys,” he whispered. “I just didn’t realize how important they were to her. How they were competition to our relationship, when we were best friends.” He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I guess I never realized how she was so much more important to me than I was to her.”

“Caleb,” you breathed. “I want you to be happy. I do. But that can’t always revolve around her. You need something else in your life to drive you, something else to give you purpose.” You motioned around his apartment. “I mean, look at how you live. It’s so empty without her. There’s nothing here that’s really just for you. Your home shouldn’t be like that, but especially not your life.”

He was silent again. “Do you know why I call you sunshine?” Caleb finally asked.

You shook your head.

A deep breath. “You were so warm, so welcoming. No stipulations. I didn’t have to prove my worth to be around you.” Caleb’s fingers stretched, itching to hold your hand again. “I decided I always wanted your light in my life. I didn’t think it would leave, for a while there. But then I messed everything up, and it’s been gray skies for weeks.” He reached out, hesitant and shaking, and took your hand. “I don’t want to lose my sunshine again.”

Sylus watched you. Watched the conflict in your eyes. He took a step forward, resting his hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t you take some time to think about it?” he asked you softly.

You nodded, standing up and picking your hand up out of Caleb’s grip. He only stared at his now empty hand. “Goodbye, Caleb,” you said. “I hope you can be happy.”

“Goodbye, sunshine,” he replied as the door unceremoniously shut.

The apartment was dark.

Caleb sat in the midst of it all, the full weight of regret nearly pushing him to collapse on the floor. “I’m sorry, sunshine,” he whispered.

Sylus brought you back to the Onychinus base quietly. You’d need time to sort through your conversation with Caleb, he knew, and he was more than willing to give that to you.

It surprised him, then, when you spoke as he helped you out of the car. “I don’t think I can ever trust him,” you said. “I’d like to forgive him, though.”

He nodded. “That’s always your decision.” His face turned sour. “I, personally, will never trust that Colonel.”

You chuckled. “You know, that entire time I was talking with him, I thought you were going to kill him.”

Sylus raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“I could feel the murder glare you were giving him,” you laughed.

“Enlighten me, little dove, what exactly is a ‘murder glare?’” A grin teased the corners of his lips.

“You know what I mean!” You waved him off. “That death stare you give to people you don’t like. I think you’re the definition of ‘if looks could kill.’”

Sylus chuckled as he watched your unbridled laughter, a sense of relief washing over him. As long as he could keep you this happy and this carefree, he thought, he would be satisfied.

Walking through the base’s door together, the comforting feeling of home settling, you made a beeline for the kitchen. “I’m hungry,” you announced, turning to Sylus and giving him a saccharine sweet smile. “Cook me something?”

Sylus smirked, crossing his arms. “And just when did I become your personal chef, dove?”

You tapped your chin, pretending to think about it. “Hmm… since I said so! Now, chop, chop!” You grinned.

He shook his head, walking towards the kitchen in defeat. “Such a bossy dove.”

You flinched as Luke and Kieran burst through the door, something not gone unnoticed by Sylus. “Slow down,” he said sharply.

“Sorry, boss,” Luke panted.

“We just got some news,” Kieran said.

Sylus stiffened. “What happened?”

“A break in. One of your safe houses. Sounds like whoever it is has a lot of information on you now,” Kieran explained quickly.

“And you don’t know who it is?” Sylus asked.

“Not yet, boss.” Luke frowned.

“They said something about Little Boss,” Kieran whispered to Sylus so you couldn’t hear.

Sylus’s entire body went rigid with a tension you hadn’t seen before. “I see.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, furrowing your brows.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to go deal with this, little dove,” Sylus sighed. “Will you be alright on your own?”

“Of course, go take care of that, I’ll be okay.” You smiled softly.

Sylus mustered up a smile to return, but he couldn’t help the deep-rooted dread as he left the base with Luke and Kieran.

“Everything will be fine,” you’d assured him. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I don’t want to think about that,” Sylus muttered. “I’ll leave Mephisto with you. If anything goes wrong, I’ll be here as soon as possible.”

“You worry too much,” you chuckled.

Sylus pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I just want my little dove to be safe.”

comments and reblogs appreciated and asks open! <3

masterlist

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rmadridcore · 8 months ago

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NSFW Alphabet

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Requested

Word count: 2.3K

Warning: Smut! (Minors DNI)

Author’s note: Another request I had on my list that came just in time lmao 🤍 Enjoy, anon!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Aftercare with Jude is practically a ritual. No matter how intense the moment, he makes sure you end the night feeling cherished and at ease. He’s meticulous — cleaning you up with a warm cloth, whispering soft reassurances as he gently wipes away any lingering mess. If he’s gone rough, you’re guaranteed a warm bath where he’ll tenderly wash every inch of you, his touch as gentle as his words, massaging your skin with care. Jude gets extra affectionate afterward; he wants to be close, savoring the post-intimacy warmth with his arms wrapped tightly around you. For him, holding you is almost like another way of saying "I love you" and he needs you to feel that just as deeply.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On you, Jude is truly torn. He adores your eyes, especially how they’re filled with love, but also how they look when he’s making them roll back. Then there’s your hair — soft and fragrant, perfect for his hands to pull when he’s got you on all fours or on your knees. Naturally, he’s captivated by your body, your curves, but if he had to pick a favorite, it’s your lips. Those soft, inviting lips that kiss him tenderly, speak words of love, and do...other things that drive him crazy. The way your lips look wrapped around him or just lightly kissing his fingers, or how they brush over his sensitive spots; it’s irresistible.

For himself, it’s between two: he loves his hands, for what they can do to you — massaging, exploring, or lifting you closer when you’re arched back. And, well, his other favorite…take a lucky guess. But those hands of his? They’re his pride and joy when it comes to you.

C = Cum (anything to do with come, basically)

Jude’s favorite place to is definitely inside you. It’s like he’s on another level when he feels your warmth around him, holding him close — he loves how intimate and possessive it feels, and nothing compares to hearing you ask for it. That alone drives him wild. But if he’s feeling extra smug, he’ll finish on you, usually your face. He loves seeing his release on your lips or the stray drops on your lashes, and the way you look with him still covering you leaves him in awe.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Jude loves marking you, even if he rarely admits it. Knowing the hickeys he left are hidden away on your thighs or chest makes him feel smugly possessive. When he’s in a more playful mood, though, he’ll leave them somewhere visible and watch you try to hide them the next day. Seeing you subtly covering up the spots, his love bites just barely hidden, makes him lose his mind.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Jude’s had his fair share of experiences, he’s learned a lot over time and he definitely knows what he’s doing. But with you, he’s dedicated to learning you — he’s incredibly observant and pays attention to all the tiny details about what you like. Every sigh, every shiver, he notes it down mentally, building a whole guide to pleasing you specifically. His experience shows, but he doesn’t coast on it, he’s always looking to make each moment even better, to discover new ways to make you feel good. He’s invested in making every time together feel like it’s just for you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loves anything that lets him see you. Whether it’s missionary, or having you on his lap facing him, or you riding him, Jude is addicted to watching you. Seeing your face flushed and eyes struggling to stay focused on him? It’s everything he wants. The way your expression changes when he’s deep inside you, seeing every little reaction up close — it just drives him to keep going, to watch you unravel bit by bit under his touch.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous etc.)

Jude’s mood is flexible, sometimes he’s lighthearted, laughing softly and whispering silly things to make you giggle. Other times, he’s intensely focused, his full attention on you, dead serious about making you feel every inch of his passion. But no matter the mood, his smugness is always there; he can’t help those teasing remarks and that cocky grin, even at the height of intimacy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is definitely a man who takes pride in keeping himself well-groomed. His hair on top is always styled and maintained, and it’s no different down below. He keeps everything tidy and natural, making sure he’s clean and presentable for you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

With Jude, it’s all about intimacy. He knows that true intimacy is about genuine connection, and he feels that connection with you. His favorite moments are when he’s as close to you as possible, his gaze holding yours if you can keep your eyes open long enough. He’s deeply romantic, telling you all the things he adores about you as he kisses down your body. His intensity and passion grow when he’s with you — nothing matters more to him than making you feel cherished and loved.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Jude likes to jack off, obviously. Who doesn’t? When you’re not around, he’ll definitely take matters into his own hands, but he much prefers if you’re on the other end of a phone or FaceTime call with him. If that’s not possible, he has a stash of Polaroids he’s snapped of you, his favorites that he keeps hidden away to help him out when he needs it. To him, nothing compares to the real thing, but he’ll make do when he’s missing you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

This man has the most obvious praise kink. When you tell him how good he’s making you feel or how much you love what he’s doing to you, it’s all he needs to melt into a mess. The more you praise him, the more he ramps up his efforts, practically obsessed with hearing your approval. There are moments when your compliments even make his cheeks heat up, and that vulnerability drives him to work harder, making him practically feral in his need to satisfy you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

While he’s up for a lot as long as you two have privacy, his favorite place will always be the bed. It’s where he can fully take his time, exploring you without limits. The bed gives him the freedom to do whatever he pleases with you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It’s honestly everything about you, he’s helplessly attracted to every detail. However, nothing drives him crazier than seeing you in his jersey, with his name and number on the back. He can’t get over the sight of “Bellingham” and “5” emblazoned across your shoulders; it’s a powerful reminder that you’re his, and he’s yours. If you wear it around the house, you’re almost guaranteed to end up pinned against a wall, bent over a counter, or pulled onto his lap as he can’t resist making the most of the moment.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s quite open-minded and loves experimenting with new things together, but he has hard boundaries, and bringing other people into your sex life is a firm no. He’s fiercely protective over your bond and can’t even stomach the idea of sharing you with anyone else. Naturally, anything that might hurt or make you uncomfortable is off the table; that goes without saying.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Jude’s mouth was made to worship you — or so he often tells you with a smirk. He’s got serious skill, and he knows how to use it. When he’s between your thighs, it’s his favorite place, and he’s almost desperate as he laps you up, savoring every moment like it’s his last. He’s obsessed with making you come on his tongue and has to physically restrain himself from keeping his mouth on you for hours.

As for you going down on him, that’s a whole different high. Seeing you on your knees, with that gleam in your eyes and your tongue teasing him, brings him to his limit almost instantly.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

His pace varies with his mood, and he loves mixing it up. If he’s been yearning for you all day or feeling a bit possessive, he can get lost in a faster, rougher rhythm, his need for you overpowering everything else. But when the moment’s tender, like on your anniversary or after he’s missed you, it’s slow, steady, and dripping with affection. Every thrust is measured, intimate, filled with soft kisses, whispered promises, and hand-holding. He knows exactly when to be soft or rough, and it keeps things electric between you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Though quickies can be fun, Jude doesn’t favor them. He loves savoring every moment and finds it hard to rush through it; he’d much rather have the time to build up and bring you to the edge slowly. For him, foreplay is essential, and when he doesn’t have the time for all that care and buildup, he’s usually happier waiting until you can fully enjoy each other. That way, the anticipation only makes everything feel even more intense.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

You and Jude are both open to some risks, but you two tend to prioritize safety and privacy. The thrill is there, but he’d never want you both to risk getting caught in any real trouble. However, that doesn’t mean he’s a complete angel: he’s sneaked a hand under your dress at a fancy dinner, given you that mischievous smile, or pressed his hand over your mouth in rooms where you could easily be overheard. Those little thrills are more than enough for him, and they make every private moment afterward even more cherished.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Jude’s stamina is borderline legendary. He’s trained as a top athlete, and while he’s only human, you might be convinced he’s superhuman with how long he can last. He has a strict rule of making you cum at least once before he even thinks of reaching his own high, ensuring you’re completely taken care of. He’s always ready to go for more rounds than you might expect, coaxing you to “give him one more,” until you’re out of breath and only his name remains on your lips.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He enjoys keeping things interesting, so he has a few favorites like handcuffs, a blindfold, and a vibrator for when he’s in the mood to tease. But more than anything, he loves relying on his own body, his hands, mouth, and everything in between, to make you scream his name. He believes his personal touch is more satisfying than any toy could ever be.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Jude is, without a doubt, the king of teasing. This is because he has learned all the tiny, almost unnoticeable things that turn you on and he exploits them like a motherfucker. He’ll make you flustered with a single look, drag out the anticipation until you’re practically begging, and won’t even touch you until he knows you’re fully aching for him. He loves seeing you on edge, desperate, and completely at his mercy.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He knows how much you enjoy his sounds, so he doesn’t hold back. His deep, husky grunts, the way he moans in that accent, and his whispered, filthy words keep you coming undone. He’s vocal because he knows his sounds drive you wild, and he loves to let you know exactly how good you make him feel.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s got a thing for mirror sex. He loves watching you watch yourself as he has his way with you, making you see just how needy and beautiful you are. It’s a game for him — if you close your eyes or look away, he’ll slow his pace and tease you until you’re back to looking at the reflection. It’s a control thing, and he absolutely relishes seeing you struggle to keep your eyes open.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

“Impressive” doesn’t quite do him justice. Jude’s perfectly large and proportional, the kind of fit that has you thinking about him hours after he’s left. When he’s fully hard and deep inside you, it’s a feeling you never get used to, almost as if he’s about to split you in half.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Jude’s sex drive is fairly high, almost perpetually ready to show you how much he loves you. If he’s not dealing with major stress from his career, he’s pretty much down anytime, anywhere. Just a hint of flirtation or a touch from you is often all it takes to get him started.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As much as Jude loves sleep, he never nods off until he knows you’re completely settled. Watching you fall asleep in his arms, seeing your breathing slow and your face at ease — it gives him his own kind of peace. Once he’s sure you’re comfortable and content, then he lets himself drift off, happy to have you curled up beside him.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham imagine #football player x reader #football fic #jude imagines #imagine #real madrid #rma #rmafc #football imagine

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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year ago

Text

Smell Ya Later

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you get a new body cream that allegedly attracts spiders, and someone else

Masterlist

Whenever you needed a some space from your everyday routines, you packed up your stuff and spent the weekend in your room at the Stark Tower. You had spent the day shopping and picked up a few self care items, including a new body cream you had seen online. Once night had fallen and you felt you had shopped enough, you retreated back to your room and sat at your desk to look at the things you had bought.

“Let’s see how you smell.” You said as you twisted the cap off the body cream. You had barely raised the jar to your nose when Peter appeared the doorway of your room.

“Hey.” He greeted.

“Jeez. You scared me. I didn’t know you were here tonight.” You laughed and put your hand over your pounding heart.

“Yeah, I’m spending the weekend here to give my aunt some time with her boyfriend. But, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was walking by and wanted to come say hi.” He laughed shyly.

“Oh. Well, hi.” You smiled and gave him a little wave.

“Mm. Something smells really good in here.” Peter sniffed the air as he walked into your room. You were pretty sure this was the first tike Peter was actually in your room and that made you gulp.

“Really? I don’t smell anything.”

“Maybe it’s just the air. Girls rooms always smell good.” He shrugged.

“Are you in a lot of girls rooms?” You asked teasingly but were dying to know the answer.

“No.” He chuckled. “But I remember from going over to girls houses for group projects and stuff in middle school. Plus, Natasha’s and Wanda’s room always smells good when I walk by. Not that I go around sniffing everyone’s rooms.”

“I’m starting to think you might.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.

“I don’t, I swear. Did you just go shopping?” He laughed and leaned against your desk. You sucked in a sharp breath over the close proximity and nodded your head.

“I did. But I didn’t get anything exciting.”

“What do you mean? This looks very exciting. What is this?” Peter asked as he held up a fluffy headband with a large bow at the front.

“A headband to keep my hair out of my face when I wash it.”

“Oh. I thought it was a giant scrunchie. Or a really small tube top.” Peter pursed his lips as he turned the headband over in his hands to try and understand it.

“No. Neither.” You laughed shyly as you watched him touch your things.

“What’s this thing?” He asked and held up your heartless curls rod.

“It’s for heartless curls.” You replied, making Peter look at you in confusion.

“You know. Curling your hair. With no heat.”

“This tiny pool noodle curls your hair?” Peter asked in disbelief and held up the limp rod.

“Yes. You wrap it around this and sleep in it. Then you wake up with curly hair.” You explained and wrapped a strand of your hair around it to demonstrate.

“Okay. I’m getting closer to understanding. What role does this thing play in all of that that?” Peter asked as he picked up a claw clip from your desk and opened it a few times.

“You use this to clip the rod onto your head while you wrap your hair.” You informed him.

“Wow. Sometimes I feel like girls live in an entirely different secret world than boys. Like, I just put water in my hair and say I’m ready. But you guys have all these fun fancy contraptions.” He smiled as he played with a scrunchie on your desk.

“Yeah. I guess it is kinda fun.” You shrugged as you looked at all the silly contraptions laid out in your desk.

“Woah. What’s this thing?” Peter gasped and picked up your jade roller that was still in the package.

“It’s called a jade roller.”

“You’re gonna have to explain.” He said and looked to you for help.

“I haven’t tried it yet but basically you put it in the refrigerator and then roll it on your face to decrease puffiness in the morning.” You explained as you took it out of the box.

“And it works?”

“I don’t know. But it feels good.” You shrugged and rolled it up and down your cheek.

“I can’t imagine that medieval looking thing feeling good.” Peter mumbled.

“It does. Come here.” You beckoned him with your finger and he leaned down closer to your face. You smiled timidly at him as you rolled it up and down his face.

“See? It feels nice, right?” You asked in a soft voice.

“I’ve never experienced this feeling before.” Peter said and closed his eyes peacefully.

“You should get one.” You chuckled and rolled it on his forehead.

“I don’t know. Mr. Stark already made fun of me for my Lana Del Ray poster. If he sees this in my room he might think I’m a little weirdo.”

“Who cares what he thinks? He has a “nail girl” for his weekly manicures and pedicures. And I think it’s attractive when a guy cares about his hygiene. Which says a lot about my standards now that I say that out loud.” You realized and thought about that for a minute.

“Maybe I will get one then. Because I care about my hygiene. A lot. More than the other guys you know, I bet.” Peter bragged, making you laugh.

“I would not have a hard time believing that.” You answered honestly.

“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? You’re so pretty.” Peter asked as he gestured to all the things on your desk. Guy cracked a smile at his casual compliment but didn’t make a big deal out of it.

“It guess it’s like you said. It’s fun. I like using these things when I’m having quiet time by myself.”

“I like that. That’s something new I just learned about you. I also didn’t know your last name until right now.” Peter tapped a school paper on your desk that said your full name. You laughed as he stood up and headed towards your door. The moment was ending but it was the first time you really talked to Peter one on one in that way so you still took it as a win.

“Seriously. Something smells really good in here.” He said from your doorway.

“I think I smell it too now. Maybe somethings in the air.” You smiled shyly.

“Must be.” He smirked. “Goodnight, L/n.”

“Goodnight, Parker.” You called after him. Once he was gone, you stayed looking at the doorway with a starstruck smile on your face. You didn’t know what prompted Peter to talk to you all of the sudden but you were thankful to whatever it was.

The next day, you went downstairs for breakfast and found Natasha and Wanda in the kitchen. You stopped to talk to them for a minute as you finished rubbing your body cream onto your elbows.

“Ooo. You smell good. What is that?” Natasha asked you.

“It’s a body cream from that brand Sol De Janeiro. I’ve never used it before but it had good reviews.” You told her as you smelled your wrist to catch the scent again.

“Wow. It’s really nice.” She sniffed you again. “You smell like how Moana feels to watch.”

“Thank you.” You smiled. “But when did you watch Moana?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of luxury sunblock or every flower scented candle at Yankee Candle at once.” Wanda added.

“That description also works, thank you.” You nodded in agreement.

“That reminds me.” Natasha began. “I need to get a new perfume. I’ve become totally nose blind to mine and I can never tell-“

“Hey guys. Mmm. Something smells good. What is that?” Peter burst into the room suddenly full of energy while loudly sniffing the air. You smiled and waved at him and he immediately went over to you.

“It’s this one.” Wanda said and pointed to you. Peter put his hand on your back and stepped closer to you to taken whiff.

“Oh, yeah. It is you. You smell amazing.” He told you.

“Oh, thank you.” You laughed shyly. “It’s just my body cream.”

“God damn. It smells so good.” Peter gushed. “I’ve never smelled anything like that. What’s it called?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I could find out and tell you, though.” You offered.

“Yeah, sure. I probably wouldn’t use it because it smells like a woman angel that turned into a vanilla bean but I wouldn’t keep a jar around just to sniff. It smells amazing.” He insisted and moved close to you to inhale again.

“So you’ve said.” Natasha snorted and gave you a look. You gave her a confused look as Peter put his hands on your hips and nose right on your shoulder to smell you.

“Sorry. I just really love that scent. It makes me feel like that scene in Ratatouille.” Peter said.

“What scene?” You looked over your shoulder to ask him and tried not to scream over how he was holding you.

“When that guy eats the ratatouille.” He said simply. “Holy shit, L/n. You smell like a flower that was dipped in crystallized sugar and then rolled in fairy dust. I could smell you all day.”

Just then, Tony walked by and saw how close Peter was to you. He frowned when he heard Peter sniffing loudly and rolled up the magazine in his hand.

“Down boy. Bad. Off of her.” Tony said as he smacked Peter with the magazine.

“But she smells so good.” Peter whined.

“No. Bad. Bad boy.” Tony shook his head and continued hitting Peter with the magazine.

“Fine.” Peter grumbled. “Bye.”

“Bye.” You waved to him as he left the room. Once you were alone with the girls again, they looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“What?” You wondered.

“How long has that been going on?” Wanda asked you.

“How long has what been going on?”

“You and Peter.” Natasha replied.

“What? There’s nothing going on between me and Peter.” You forced a laugh and looked to the side.

“Well he clearly wants there to be something. I have not seen a boy that down bad since high school. Wait, how old are you guys again? 14?” Wanda asked.

“22.” You corrected. “And Peter is not down bad for me. I’m pretty sure he likes this girl from his school.”

“What’s her name?” Natasha asked.

“Liz.” You answered immediately. “I mean, I don’t know. Who cares?”

“Oh, so the crush is mutual?” Wanda nodded in understating.

“No. Nothing is mutual.” You scoffed. “This isn’t liberty.”

“Oh, you have it so bad.” Natasha laughed at how flustered you were getting.

“Nuh uh. Maybe you like Peter and you’re trying to deflect. Ever think about that?” You asked her.

“Right. I like a middle schooler who cries to Lana Del Ray on weeknights.” She answered sarcastically.

“She has very moving music.” You defended him.

“I think it’s cute that you guys like each other.” Wanda said. “And it makes total sense for you to be together. You’re the same age and have a similar lifestyle. Why not tell him how you feel?”

“Because I don’t like him.” You insisted. “And he doesn’t like me.”

“If he doesn’t like you then why was he just using you like a scratch and sniff?” Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe he just likes to sniff things.” You shrugged. “Maybe that’s his thing.”

“Or maybe you’re his thing.” Natasha replied.

“Do you really think he likes me?” You asked them hopefully.

“I always kinda thought he did.” Wanda admitted. “And After that disturbing encounter, there’s no doubt in my mind. He’s definitely into you.”

“Hm.” You hummed and thought about it. You’d always had a secret crush on him and he had no idea so maybe it was possible that he felt the same way about you without you ever realizing.

You spent the day thinking about what the girls had said. Your thinking was interrupted when Peter returned to your room that night and took a whiff of the air.

“Mm. Smells good in here.” He noted.

“I have a candle on. I mean, lit.” You corrected yourself and pointed to your candle.

“Don’t knock it over and burn your room down. That happened to Brittany Spears, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” You insisted. “I watch all the videos of her spinning in her living room.”

“Same.” He laughed. “What are you doing right now?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“I was gonna go grab food. Would you want to-“

“Yes.” You said immediately. You felt embarrassed for answering so fast but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“Cool. Let’s go.” He said and nodded towards the door.

Thirty minutes later, you were sitting on a bench outside of Delmar’s with sandwiches and bottles of ice tea. Peter picked the place and you followed his lead when ordering because he seemed like a regular.

“And why is it flat?” You asked him as he held up his squished sandwich.

“Because it tastes better the flatter it is, duh. Try it.” He insisted and gestured to your squished sandwich. You gave him a skeptical look before giving it a bite.

“Okay. You might be on to something.” You admitted once you had swallowed.

“Thank you. Every few years my brain lets me have one good idea.” Peter said as he happily chewed his sandwich.

“What was the good idea before this one?”

“Chips in my sandwich.”

“I see. And are these ideas always sandwich related?” You chuckled.

“Wait.” He gasped. “Yeah. They are.”

“Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe you’re a natural born sandwich maker.” You shrugged.

“Maybe I’m Jersey Mike.” He gasped even louder, making you laugh. People were looking but you were too excited to be there with him to care.

“I was gonna say you’re Jared from Subway but I think he’s a pedophile or something.” You told him.

“What? No way.” Peter scoffed and pulled out his phone to google it.

“Oh damn. You’re right.” He realized. “Wow. Even Jared from Subway is a bad guy? Is no one safe?”.

“I mean, you could really say any male celebrities name and there’s like a 50% chance he has charges against him.” You shrugged.

“That’s so true. My record is clean, by the way.” Peter told you. “Until my identity gets revealed. Then I’m looking at a lifetime of property damages and breaking and entering charges.”

“Oh, for me too. I have trespassed more times than I’ve actually been invited somewhere.” You answered. Peter laughed and then looked at you fondly for a minute. You grew self conscious under his gaze and nervously cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry. I keep getting distracted by your perfume.” He admitted. “I can’t get over how good it smells. You smell like the freaking sugarplum fairy.”

“Thank you. You smell good too.” You complicated and nudged him a little.

“That’s because I stole some of Mr. Starks super expensive cologne before we left. He called me to his room once just to show me the price tag on it. I thought it was his social security number at first. And the bottle is so small. I thought it was stupid to spend so much on such a tiny bottle but now that I’m wearing it I feel like I really want to fire someone.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever felt that feeling.”

“Me either. Until today. I smell like a whole different tax bracket right now and I don’t know if I can go back to my Axe Dark Temptation spray. I don’t want to smell like the bourgeois anymore.”

“Thats so funny.” You chuckled. “Do you always take his cologne?”

“Never. Just for today because I knew I was gonna ask you to hang out.” He said before taking a bite. You paused and sat with the implication that he did something just to impress you.

“I’m flattered to know you stole for me.” You said with a coy smile.

“Well you always smell amazing so I didn’t want you to think you were hanging out with some stinky rat.” Peter explained.

“I would never say that about you. I must say, you’re the best smelling rat I’ve been around.”

“Since we live in New York, I’m taking that as a compliment and letting it inflate my ego.” Peter warned you.

“Your ego must be pretty big already though, right? If I was a guy your age who looked like you did and could do the things you can do, I’d be super annoying about it. Like, raise my hand in class using two fingers and ask a question that’s just a roundabout way to show off how intelligent I am kind of annoying.”

“Looks like me? Can you elaborate on that, please, miss?” He asked with a cheeky smile.

“You know.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Giant muscles. Giant brown eyes. I don’t know much about spiders but giant something else, I’m guessing. That spider bite served you well.”

“Stop. I’m shy.” Peter laughed and covered his face with his hands

“Come on.” You groaned. “You have to know you’re cute.”

“My aunt says I’m a handsome little lad.” He said and batted his eyelashes to make you laugh.

“She’s right.” You laughed. “But seriously. If my arms looked like that I’d only wear tight white shirts and ridiculously skinny jeans. And obviously slick my hair back like a Greaser. A full Soda Pop Curtis, if you will.”

“Oh, so you’re an Outsiders fan? This is me trying to maintain a regular conversation while hoping my heart rate returns to normal after being bombarded with compliments, by the way.” Peter said with a rosy blush on his face.

“I love The Outsiders. I’m still chasing the high I felt when my teacher played the movie for us in 5th grade and Soda Pop came out of the shower in the beginning. I think all the girls in that room remember that moment. I haven’t felt that way since.”

“Really? Never?”

“Maybe once or twice.” You smiled fondly at him.

“Well, to answer your question, I am actually a total loser at school and have an ego the size of a walnut. No one knows I can do the things I can do so I’m just another goofy goober on campus.”

“How can you saw you’re a goober when you’ve probably saved the life of every person in your school? More than once I might add.”

“Because I didn’t do that stuff. Spiderman did.” He explained. “When I’m on campus, I’m just me. It’s the only way to protect my identity. I have to let all the credit go to someone else.”

“Okay, I get not taking credit to remain humble and anonymous and what not, but what about all the other cool stuff you can do? I’ve seen you move a refrigerator with ease and casually run a mile without breaking a sweat. How do you resist the urge to show off all the time?”

“Because I wasn’t some sports star before I was bitten so it would be highly suspicious if I showed up one day and started dunking on everyone and breaking their ankles and third sports term. I only want to use my abilities to help people. Not to get popular.” He shrugged. As he spoke, you felt your crush on him turned into full blown infactuation. You’d always liked him from afar but now that you were getting to know him, he was even better than you thought.

“You’re better than me. I’d be doing backflips down the hallway and climbing on the walls. And if I got in trouble, I’d just be like “remember when New York wasn’t taken over by aliens? You’re welcome, bitch.” And then I’d swing away and probably kiss a cheerleader. Maybe even two.” You told him.

“Uh uh. My powers have definitely not gotten me any kisses from cheerleaders.” He laughed and shook his head.

“So you don’t have a girlfriend or anything?” You asked and couldn’t help but smile.

“No. My roster is empty. And I wish I could blame that on the Spiderman stuff but I can’t. I’ve never been lucky in that department.”

“I don’t understand that. You’re so…” You trailed off when you realized you were about to say too much. Peter looked at you with a coy smile and raised his eyebrows.

“So?” He asked.

“So annoying.” You insisted. “And ugly, actually.”

Luckily, he understood that you were saying the opposite of what you meant and smiled in appreciation.

“What about you? You must have a boyfriend and 10 guys lined up ready to take his place the second he falters, right?”

“11 guys.” You corrected.

“Damn. I’m sorry. I should’ve known.” He said and held up his hands in defense.

“It’s okay. How could you have known? But, um, no. No boyfriend.” You told him and watched carefully for a reaction.

“So you don’t like anyone at your school?”

“Not at school, no.”

“Oh. So there is someone.” He smirked.

“There may or may not be a boy. But he likes someone else so it doesn’t even matter.” You waved your hand in dismissal.

“Does he know you like him?” Peter asked. Your knees and elbows were touching as you sat together on that bench. You couldn’t help but notice he had gotten closer and closer as you talked.

“No.” You replied as you stared into Peter’s eyes.

“That’s obviously why he likes someone else.” Peter insisted. “I guarantee that if he knew he had a chance with you, he’d forget all about that other girl.”

“I don’t know. Do you really think that?” You asked skeptically.

“Definitely. He’d be crazy not to go for someone so…” He trailed off to give you a taste of your own medicine.

“So?” You shook his arm to urge him to continue.

“Ugly.” He replied. “Really, really ugly. Not pretty at all. Definitely not funny or charming. And a stinky rat. And ugly, if I didn’t mention that before. Ghoul like, even.”

“Thank you.” You smiled warmly, knowing he meant the opposite of what he was saying.

“You’re very welcome.” He smiled back. “So when are we doing this again?”

You did it again the next night, this time at a food truck you liked, and then a few days after that. That’s when Peter started giving you his weekends. You started hanging out more and more and grew to be close friends in just a short time. You lived at home during the week and could look forward to Peter’s almost nightly visits while he was on parol just to sit in your window and talk to you. He was so so consistent that you started leaving your bedroom door open just for him.

“I’m here. Don’t be naked.” Peter said as he climbed through your window one evening.

“I just got out of the shower. What if I was naked? Then what?” You asked as you rubbed your body cream into your skin.

“Then we’d have a funny story to tell at parties.” He said as he pulled his mask off. You couldn’t help but smile at the way his messy curls stood up on his head.

“Oh yeah? And what’s so funny about me being naked?” You teased him as you squeezed the excess water out of your hair with a towel.

“That’s not the funny part. The funny part would have been when my eyes sprang out from my head on slinkies and made an audible “boing-oing-oing” sound. Right before my head exploded and left a smoking stump on my neck.” Peter told you, making you playfully roll your eyes.

“Oh wow. Very Tom and Jerry of you.” You chuckled.

“A full Tom and Jerry. The only thing missing would be the little blue birds and or angles flying around my head but I didn’t say that one because it’s typically reserved for traumatic head injuries.”

“You’re stupid.” You laughed and shook your head endearingly at him. Peter smiled back at you

“You’re stupid.” He chuckled. “You smell good.”

You really liked being friends with Peter. The more time you spent with Peter, the more you found you could talk to him about anything. He seemed so interested in every little thing you said. You worried your crush suddenly taking an extreme interest in you might be too good to be true, so you were determined to enjoy it while it lasted. And do far, it had lasted two months.

“Hey you two. Are you gonna be hungry…” Tony trailed off when he assessed the situation in front of him. You and Peter turned your heads when you heard Peter’s bedroom door open, giving Tony a full view of the green face masks you had covering your faces. You were sitting on Peter’s bed and applying masks to each others faces so your hands were full of the green goop as well. Tony looked back and forth between the two of you for a minute but eyes kept returning to the giant pink bow headband Peter had on to hold his hair back.

“Oh.” Tony nodded. “Hm. Okay.”

“Hi Mr. Stark.” Peter waved.

“I was gonna ask if you guys were hungry. But now I don’t know how to feel.” Tony said with a blank expression.

“We’re okay. We door dashed some food. Thank you, though.” You replied.

“No problem. Try not to have too much fun, ladies.” Tony snickered and closed the door.

“He doesn’t get us.” Peter rolled his eyes and smeared some of the face mask across your forehead. You smiled at the mention of “us” and stared into his eyes.

“He wishes he was gonna have clarified skin and minimized pores in 45 minutes.” You agreed.

“45 minutes? Oh shit. We should’ve brought snacks.”

“I can go grab some. I need to pee anyway.” You told him and hoped off his bed. You hit up the kitchen after the bathroom and raised the refrigerator for some snacks. When you shut the refrigerator door, Natasha was standing there watching you.

“So. Having another stay at home date with Peter?” She asked and pointed to your face mask.

“It’s not a date.” You rolled your eyes. “We’re just two friends hanging out.”

“Right. And do you share clothes with all of your friends or just the ones you don’t have feelings for?” She asked sarcastically.

“He wasn’t wearing my pants that day, okay?” You sighed. “He just asked me to embroider little molecules into his jeans and then wanted me to sign my name. Which is very normal for two friends to do.”

“So that’s not his sweatshirt you have on now?” Natasha asked and pointed to the Museum of Natural History hoodie you had on.

“It is. But-“

“But. Mm hm, yeah?” She cut you off with sarcastic interest in her voice.

“Yes, but.” You stated. “It’s too small on him now that the bite made him all big and muscly. But his uncle bought it for him and it was too sentimental to throw away so he let me have it.”

“Oh. So he gave you an article of clothing that his dead uncle gave to him? That’s very platonic of him.” Natasha said before cracking a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re implying.” You played dumb.

“I’m implying that you two are dating but pretending you’re not.”

“What?” You forced a laugh. “We are not dating.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re not fooling anyone with that. Why don’t you just call a spade a spade and make out already?”

“Because it’s not a spade. Your mom’s a spade. We’re just friends.” You insisted and felt glad your face mask was covering up your embarrassed blush.

You went back to Peter’s room with the snacks and pushed Natasha’s comments from your mind. Peter could tell that something was bothering but he didn’t push it.

You spent the next few nights at home but headed back to the tower to spend the weekend. You knew Peter would be arriving later that night so you got ready in your room while you waited. You scrolled on your phone while you did your makeup and came across an article on the body cream you’d been wearing lately. You started to read it but got distracted by the sound of people in the downstairs. You left your room and took the elevator down to see if it was Peter, but found Wanda and Natasha instead.

“Oh, hey. I was just telling Nat I got that cream you told us about. It just smelled so good on you.” Wanda told you.

“Did you? Tell me what you think of it. It works really well but I think I have to stop wearing it. I was just reading online that apparently it attracts….” You trailed off and pulled out your phone to show Wanda the article. You got distracted by a text from Peter telling you that he had arrived. You furrowed your eyebrows and stared at the text as things started to make sense in your head.

“Attracts what?” Wanda asked you. You looked up to answer her but got distracted by Peter walking in.

“Spiders.” You told her as you stared at Peter.

“Hey, Y/n.” Peter greeted with a smile. “Come with me up to the roof. I have something to show you.”

Peter took your hand and started pulling you towards the elevators. You were still lost in thought but regained composure enough to look at the girls while you were being pulled away.

When you got to the roof, the sun was just beginning to sink into the city skyline, making for a peaceful atmosphere. There were some snacks set out and a sheet you recognized from Peter’s room.

“What’s this?” You turned to him to ask. He was already staring at you and watching carefully for a reaction.

“You said you’d been so busy with homework lately that you don’t even realize when it becomes night so I thought we could take a mental break together and watch the sunset.” Peter explained with a sheepish smile. You lit up when you heard his plan and forgot all about the article.

“You planned this for me?”

“I didn’t want you to work yourself to death. You’re gonna do fine on your finals. You’re the smartest person I know. Other than, like, the two super genius’s I know. But you’re definitely up there.” He assured you. You broke into a smile and threw your arms around him to thank him. He stumbled back a little a before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back.

“Thanks, Peter. This is really sweet.” You said and pulled away just enough to look at him. You stayed with your arms wrapped around each other as the sun began to set around you.

“You’re very welcome.” He said with a fond smile. You stared into his eyes and felt his magnetic force pulling you towards him. Peter’s eyes dropped down to your lips before a rosy blush covered his face. You couldn’t believe what was about to happen was actually happening. He started to lean in and cracked a smile just before your lips could touch.

“God, you smell amazing.” He whispered to you. You snapped out of your trance and took a step back from him.

“Oh my God.” You gasped. “I knew it.”

“Wait, what? Knew what?” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to look as disappointed as he felt that the moment had ended.

“You don’t even like me. You’re just attracted to my delicious smelling body cream!” You shouted and pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“Woah, what? I have been accused of so many things but that is truly a first.” Peter said and held up his hands in defense.

“I bet this whole thing was a set up just so that you could sniff me!” You gasped and pointed his picnic.

“What are you even talking about?” He matched your tone and pulled his hair in exasperation. You put your hand over your heart to catch your breath as you looked between him and his setup. Everything made sense now. Peter started talking to you the moment you opened up that jar of body cream. He only wanted to hang out with you once you started wearing it. And as you stood there on the roof with him and realized it never had anything to do with you, you felt gutted.

“I thought…I thought you liked me.” You said in a quiet voice as your face sank with disappointment. Peter turned red all the way to his ears and laughed in embarrassment.

“I do like you.” He said quietly.

“But not for me.” You shook your head. “For the way I smell.”

“What? That’s crazy?” He laughed is dismissal. You rolled up your sleeves and walked back over to him to hold your arm under his nose.

“You like this.” You told him.

“Damn, that smells good.” Peter whispered as he took in your scent.

“See? It’s my body cream. It attracts spider. Whatever is lingering in your DNA from the bite makes you attracted to this specific scent.” You grumbled as you pushed your sleeves back down.

“Huh. That explains why I got a boner in Sephora the other day.” He realized.

“Why were you in Sephora?”

“I was getting us more face masks. I even used your email so you could get the points.”

“You did?” You asked and cracked a smile. Peter looked at you sympathetically and took a step towards you.

“I had a whole night planned for us. I was gonna bring you up here to watch the sunset. And I brought snacks you like. Even disgusting Salt and Vinegar chips.”

“I love those.”

“I know you do, for some odd reason. And once the sun had set, I was gonna go downstairs with you to do the face makes. I got you a panda because you like them and mine looks like Hello Kitty, see?” Peter said and he pulled the masks out of his bag.

“Very impressive selection.”

“I know. Once we had them on, I was gonna tell you that you’re the only person I don’t feel like I need to wear a mask with. Or you’re the only person who makes me feel the way I do when I’m wearing my mask. In parenthesis, my Spiderman mask. Which implies you make me feel invincible. I don’t know. It was gonan be some mask related metaphor that I was hoping would come to me in the moment.”

“Why did you need a mask related metaphor?”

“So I could ease the tension and segway into telling you that I like you.” He admitted with a timid smile.

“You do?” You asked skeptically. Peter nodded his head and put his hands on your shoulders.

“I wouldn’t do all this for you just because I liked the way you smell. And believe me, I love the way you smell. If I could shrink you down using the Honey I Shrunk the Kids machine and shove you up my nose, I would. But I like a million other things about you too that don’t involve the olfactory bulb.”

“Then how come we only started hanging out once I started using the body cream?”

“Okay, I’ll admit, I got a whiff of the body cream and basically floating in the air down the hallway into your room like a cartoon pig being lead to a pie.” Peter prefaced. “But that was just the first time you wore it. It gave me the confidence to ask you to hang out which is something I’d been wanting to do since we met. And once we started hanging out and I learned all these new things about you, I liked you even more. Which I didn’t know was possible because I was already listening to Lana Del Ray and pretending you wrote the songs about me. When you started smelling divine, that was just the icing on an already big cake. I’m talking Cake Boss level size cake that’s mostly made of Rice Krispies and plastic tubes.”

“So now I’m divine? I thought I was ugly and not funny or charming at all.” You teased him as you stepped even closer.

“You’re right. I still find you very unattractive and don’t want to be your boyfriend and l definitely don’t want to kiss you-“

You cut him off by pulling him by the shirt into a kiss. He stopped talking immediately to kiss you back, putting his hands on your face to pull you closer.

“You smell so fucking good.” He growled and pulling you closer by the waist. You giggled against his lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You and Peter eventually retired to the sheet to watch the rest of the sun set. You laid on his chest and listened to his heart beating while the scent of his cologne filled your nose. You went back downstairs hand in hand once the sky was dark and passed by Wanda in the living room.

“Goodnight, Wanda.” You smiled at her as you and Peter walked by.

“Goodnight.” She replied and waved her fingers. Peter stopped suddenly in his tracks and looked at Wanda.

“Woah.” He smiled. “You smell really good, Wanda. What do you have-“

“Oh, no you don’t.” You cut him off and pulled him by the back of his shirt away from her.

“It’s the cream.” Peter said in defeat. “I’m defenseless to the cream.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

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@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

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@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker imagine #peter parker au #peter parker fluff #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

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solxamber · 9 months ago

Note

Good morning/evening/ whenever you're reading this.

May I request Silver, Malleus, and Ace with someone who's like a sheep in wolfs clothing? Basically someone who seems intimidating and scary but is actually nice if that makes sense. Romantic or platonic is fine.

Malleus, Silver, Ace with a Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

hi! thank you for waiting, i hope this is what you wanted <3

Malleus Draconia

At first, Malleus is absolutely enchanted by the way you carry yourself. Your cool exterior, fierce glances, and aura of danger? He’s genuinely impressed. In his eyes, you’re practically royalty, strolling through campus with an air of mysterious authority that rivals his own.

But one evening, when the two of you are alone, he watches as you carefully kneel down to help a tiny creature—a shivering, injured bird, fallen from its nest. He’s speechless as you whisper gently to it, cooing softly as you tuck it into a makeshift cradle from your scarf.

“Ah, so even the fiercest can be kind,” he says, thoroughly charmed.

You look up, cheeks red. “What? No, I mean— I wasn’t… fierce,” you mutter, trying to explain away your rough side.

Malleus lets out a low chuckle, genuinely amused. “There’s no need to pretend with me, Child of Man. I find this side of you… endearing.” And with that, he offers his arm, as if escorting the most dignified person he’s ever met—like of course you’d be kind.

And every time he sees you after, he watches you just a little bit closer, hoping to catch more glimpses of the sweet, gentle heart beneath your “terrifying” façade.

Silver Vanrouge

Silver’s first impression? Oh, you were fierce, alright. With that intense stare and sharp wit, he thought you were the kind of person who could take on a horde of fire-breathing dragons without blinking.

But it doesn’t take him long to notice the little things: how you’re the first to offer help in a quiet, unassuming way. Or how you gave Grim half your lunch when he wouldn’t stop whining about his empty plate.

One day, he finally works up the courage to ask. “You’re… not like most people expect, are you?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Uh… how do you mean?”

He tilts his head thoughtfully. “You seem… gentle. Like someone who cares more than they show.” He says it simply, but with a warm smile.

“Oh! I—well, I guess…” You clear your throat, trying not to look too pleased. “Yeah, I try to be. Is that… weird?”

Silver chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Not at all. I think it’s admirable.” And with that, he goes back to his usual quiet self, though you notice he hangs around a bit more often, maybe just to keep an eye on you—or to be near you, enjoying the company of the sweetest “wolf” he’s ever met.

Ace Trappola

Ace was 100% convinced you were bad news when he first saw you. The way you stood, arms crossed and serious, maybe even a little cold, he thought for sure you were a total menace. So when he finds you one day, crouched down and helping a stray cat drink from a cup you’d brought, he actually does a double-take.

“You… feed stray animals?”

You look up, blushing furiously. “Uh… yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

He bursts out laughing, clapping his hands. “Oh man, and here I thought you’d, like, fight a cat if it came too close!”

You roll your eyes, trying to act annoyed, but you can’t help but laugh, too. “Yeah, yeah, real funny.”

After that, Ace doesn’t let you live it down. He’ll pull you along when he sees a lost animal just to watch you fuss over it, teasing you the whole time. “Oh no, don’t let the fearsome ‘tough guy’ break out the baby voice again!”

But despite the endless teasing, he genuinely loves seeing you drop the act and show your soft side. And even if he won’t say it out loud, he thinks it’s pretty awesome having a friend as kind—and surprisingly tender—as you.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x you #malleus x reader #ace trappola x reader #ace x reader #ace trappola #silver x reader #silver #silver vanrouge x reader #silver vanrouge

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shaunamilfman · 5 months ago

Text

Jackie Taylor NSFW Alphabet

pairing: Jackie Taylor x f!r note: minors dni. the prettiest gf ever actually.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

clingy, clingy, clingy, and did I say clingy? there won’t be a single limb of jackie’s that’s not wrapped around you somehow. she also only has layovers in pound town on her way to yap city so be ready to settle in and listen until she gets tired enough that she starts to yawn. then she can bury her head and settle down to sleep, still attached to you. don’t even try to use the bathroom during the night, her ass will know. she’s asleep, but she knows.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Jackie likes her mouth. likes the way her pouts can draw your attention, the way her smiles can light up your face just as quickly as her own, the slow slide of your lips against hers when you make out, the way your eyes widen when she whispers something dirty. she likes the way your skin feels beneath her mouth, the quiet sounds that escape when she brings her teeth into play.

Jackie has a thing for your arms. She likes to see your muscles flex as you move, no matter how mundane the action is. maybe it reminds of her of how they look beside her head when you lean over her, or maybe the way your muscles move as you fuck her. whatever the case, she's obsessed. also loves to hang off them. holds onto you all the time like she's afraid someone going to take you from her.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

loves to clean herself off your fingers. always gets a little too into it, eyes slipping closed, tiny pleased sounds muffled around your fingers, the soft wet slurps as she sucks at them. There’s a 50/50 change on whether she accidentally takes them too far and pouts at you or whether she pulls them away soaked with her spit and shoves your hand back between her legs.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Jackie loves when you make her be quiet. whether thats holding your hand over her mouth or making her suck on your fingers, or simply just stopping whenever she starts to get too loud. she’s obsessed. it makes her so whiny, which makes the whole thing worse. it turns her on so much she can hardly bear it sometimes.

she’s taken more than a few videos when she was alone, though she’s never been able to get the courage to actually send them to you. Jackie likes to know that they exist, that she could send them to you and have you coming right over.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

no experience with women beyond what she gained “practice kissing” with Shauna in middle school. she's dated Jeff for a while, but she doesn't like to count that. what she doesn't have in experience she makes up for in enthusiasm and yapping.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Jackie’s a simple girl at heart: she likes to be on her back, stretched out comfortably beneath you as she stares affectionately up at you. she needs to be taken care of the way she always takes care of everyone else around her, and it makes her feel so good not to have to think for a good long while and just feel. the weight of you on top of her as you maneuver her around, how small it makes her feel to look up at you. even the thought of it makes her squirm. pillow princess Jackie truther forever and ever.

she’s also a fan of straddling your lap. it’s almost a game to her, seeing how quickly she can distract you away from whatever you were doing before just by settling down in your lap with her arms wrapped around your shoulders. she likes the way you look up at her when she's sitting on your lap, like she’s special like the princess she is at heart. Jackie Taylor praise kink goes hard in this position. how are you not going to watch her sit on your lap and not tell her how pretty she is?? she likes how she can kiss you as much as she wants, burying her head in your shoulder when it all gets to be too much. Jackie especially likes when she starts to get close and can't focus on kissing you and riding your fingers at the same time. the way you grab her hips to guide her almost makes up for your inability to pin her hips down and make her take it in Jackie's mind.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Jackie's such a dork, and she will be bringing puns in mid-hookup. she just loves to banter and yap. it's not sex with Jackie Taylor if she doesn't end up giggling at least once. you’re slipping her skirt off and she’s poking fun at you for how into her you are. all breathless and flushed saying something like “god, you’re so into me. that’s sooooo embarrassing, huh?” and you better bet she’s endlessly pleased with herself when you just groan.

she's so ticklish it's not even always on purpose. she can't help it. she’s burst into peals of laughter as you kiss down her stomach in just the wrong place so many times that she doesn’t even try to apologize like she used to, just giggles as she squirms beneath you. Jackie used to try to bite her lip to keep them inside, but she likes the affectionate look you give her as you look up at her when she does laugh.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

grooms obsessively I fear. if she feels even a hint of stubble she’s going for her razor. she’s absolutely made you late for something a few times because she realized she had a single visible hair on her legs and thus needed to shave everything again.

she does start to grow out of it in the later years of college when she realizes no one really cares about it as much as her mother always preached to her.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

very romantic. as much as Jackie obviously enjoys the pleasure of it, sex is a really important emotional connection for her. like she’s not Jackie Taylor, she’s just Jackie. it makes her feel safe and treasured in a lot of ways and she loves to be guaranteed your attention for long periods of time. wants the comforting weight of you against her, the warmth of your skin, the familiar brush of your lips as you trace the same old patterns. she adores you, and wants to be adored back. very much an “i love you, i love you, i love you” like a prayer kind of girl. she’s just so vocal.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Jackie doesn't masturbate that often: that's what she has you for. she wasn't raised in a way that she felt that was something she could do as a woman, and struggles to get past that feeling even into college. it's not to say that she doesn't ever. you can't always be immediately available to her. if distance is the problem she will try calling you up for phone sex. she just likes to hear your voice.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

praise kink, obviously. won’t you please tell her how pretty she is? how good she’s doing? she needs validation, and more than that she wants it. degradation kink as well. she’s simple like that. “it’s a good thing she’s pretty because she can’t do anything else right”? oh, okay. tell her more. she likes to be teased like that, as long as it doesn’t get too pointed. the way her breath hitches as she starts to argue but finds herself struggling to find the words. so flustered that she just agrees.

marked and being marked, especially when you leave little marks on her thighs. hickeys hidden just beneath her clothes, hot? better yet, the little bruises from your fingers when you get over eager with her. she likes that way it makes her squirm whenever something presses against them, reminding her of how tightly you were holding her down.

honorable mentions. being bitten. not enough to bleed, but enough to sting. being pinned down by hand. it makes her feel wanted. hair pulling, giving and receiving. she’s not picky. begging. she’s just so good at it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Jackie likes your bed the most. she likes when you take your time with her, and that gives her the best place to do it. she doesn’t mind the couch as long as there’s no risk of interruption. you still eventually end up on someone's bed. she likes to cuddle, sue her. she’ll engage in the occasional car sex if she’s desperate enough but she’ll spend the rest of the night complaining about how the seat dug into her back or something like that

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

jealousy is a big one. God forbid she sees you talking to someone else. she’s so passive aggressive as she storms over, wrapping herself around you and resting her head on your shoulder as she gives a fake strained smile to whoever you’re talking to.

when you do sweet things for her just to do them. she likes to know you’ll do it if she asks, but when she doesn’t even have to?

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

if the praise starts to feel perfunctory or the degradation starts to feel too real. if she thinks you actually think she’s dumb she’s immediately shutting down and pushing you away. she gets on herself enough to have to wonder if you think that about her too.

do NOT embarrass her in public. there’s a fine line with how affectionate she feels she can be in public without embarrassing herself and she does not enjoy being humiliated. please don’t put her in a position where she could actually get caught doing it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

receiving, obviously. Jackie likes oral more than anything else. she likes how warm your mouth feels as you eat her out, how focused on her you are. and God, the way your arms feel hooking around her thighs as you hold her in place? she’s in heaven. hold her down as she whimpers and whines out complaints, futilely trying to grind up against your tongue as you set the pace because she needs more. she gets so impatient as she tugs at your hair, scratches at your back, and digs her heels into your skin.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

this is decided largely on why the two of you are having sex. if she’s got something to prove or is particularly motivated by emotion she prefers fast and rough. she prefers slow and sensual. she likes to be worked up and kissed and coddled till she can’t stand it anymore.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

only when she has to. and trust that she wants more full rounds when you get home later. still, she enjoys being pushed up against the wall when she gets a little jealous at a party or when you’re about to leave.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Jackie likes to try new things within reason. she’s curious, but she’s not always that spontaneous unless it’s already within her comfort zone. she’s not that much into taking risks. it stresses her out, and she doesn’t enjoy that. what she does like, is being gently coaxed into it. a “don’t you want to try…” or “you’d look so pretty if we…” anything that makes her feel safe and wanted.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Jackie can go 2-3 before she starts feeling too sensitive to continue, but that doesn’t mean she’s done. not by far. it just means she wants to make out for a while while your hands are in other places until the sensitivity dies down enough for you to go again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Jackie’s never owned one. she’d quickly take to a vibrator, from all hesitant to clutching at your arm and demanding more in the span of about five minutes. but anything else seems a little scary to her.

she’s so nervous the first time you try using a strap-on that she almost calls the whole thing off. it just reminds her too much of how she used to dread the idea of sleeping with men. but you’re so patient with her that she slowly lets herself be eased into it. Jackie quickly finds out that perhaps she was being a little too hasty on that particular point. she likes it. loves it, even. she’s often the one that brings it up first.

she’s more open to other things after that, but she still likes to pretend you’re the one who brought it up. will subtly (note, unsubtly) hint at things she wants to try until you bring it up and she can immediately agree while accusing you of being a pervert with a little twinkle in her eyes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Jackie likes to tease leading up to it on a night out, but once her back hits the mattress she’s much less inclined to tease

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

so loud if she has the option to be, and even when she doesn’t. whines, whimpers, loud moans when you touch her just right. she isn’t shy about announcing her pleasure. how else will you know to do it again? she’s such a talker.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

has tried to go on a sex strike at least once when you pissed her off but she realized it was hurting her more than you. she’s fully committed to it for all of three hours. arms crossed, pout in place, chin up. the works. but the thing is–Jackie has needs, okay? it always ends up with her shoving your hand down her pants while complaining about how mean and dumb you are.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

jackie likes to dress up in those fancy lingerie pieces that are so impractical that she has to be careful where she wears them. there’s something about feeling that silk and lace rub against her skin all night that gets her so wet by the time she lets you peel it off her at the end of the night. she loves to think about how she’s wearing it just for your enjoyment.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

high. she has needs, even if she likes to pretend that you’re the one coming on to her. she gets so touch starved so quickly.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

incredibly quickly. she’s a chronic napper, even if she pretends otherwise. yaps until she falls asleep mid-sentence, mouth pressed against your chest and dead weight

#minors dni #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #jackie taylor x reader

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