#thank you for the scenario😮‍💨

[ronearoundblindly]

Big Pharma

Steve Rogers x doctor!Reader

Written for @stargazingfangirl18's Birthday Bonenanza--HAPPY BDAY, SIRI!--using the scenario prompt ~quick, frantic, secret sex in an almost public place + babe's hand over your mouth to keep you quiet~ and the dialogue prompt "goddamnit, will you just f***ing let me do this for you?" with free use kink for good measure. Why not?

Summary: The extreme drug cocktail you devise to save Steve Rogers has one major side effect.

Warnings for smut 🥴, sorta dub-con because it's like sex pollen, F E E L S, Steve being the most chivalrous gentleman while railing you (do it for your country, babes 🫡), completely unintentional dirty talk from Steve but 😮‍💨 we'll allow it, Tony being Tony, and--as always-- terrible puns. (There are no mentions of any medical instruments, except an IV, which is not used.) MINORS DNI. This is a mature gift work; see my Light Masterlist for all-age fanfic that is fine for minors. WC 2k

The constant photoflash burns into your retinas obnoxiously, and you’re not even the subject of the paparazzi.

Captain America is alive—all thanks to you—though he could easily have been six-feet under by now. The mysterious infection was so bad and spread so far, the drug regimen you administered constitutes one of the Avengers’ biggest Hail Marys to date, but it’s working. That’s all that matters…to the world. Behind the scenes is a different story.

As Captain Rogers turns to the next hand he must shake, his sharp blue eyes find you, twinged with a familiar fear.

This stupid event scheduled by Stark to boost morale, to show Cap is just fine and back in fighting form, has gone on too long. It’s happening again.

You worried Rogers might not make it when suddenly Stark showed up hours earlier than the initial, planned press conference—because, of course, there’s meet-and-greets, quick interviews, and these damn handshakes. He’s only gone so long between treatments for the last week.

You nod at Cap and make your way in the small crowd back to Stark. You tell him you’ll need a room, somewhere private to put in the IV, and at least thirty minutes to administer the huge dose. Rogers’s super-metabolism makes it necessary to use approximately forty times the prescription average for antibiotics and steroids. In theory, the side effects are well worth his speedy recovery.

Well, the only side effect.

Stark looks horrendously annoyed. “Can’t you just shoot him up with it and be done?” He doesn’t need your lecture repeated though. “Fine, there’s a greenroom thing over there, but you’ve got fifteen minutes at most, you hear me?”

“Twenty-five, Mr. Stark. He’s not a water balloon.”

“Twenty or he can wheel the damn thing around with him.”

You gulp in nervousness, but the problem isn’t Stark’s attitude. Rogers isn’t going to like rushing this. He feels shame enough already.

“I’ll make it work,” you assure the stubborn playboy. If he only knew…

“Good. A team player. We value that here.”

You have no fucking idea how ironic that is, you scream internally, but you follow him to a door off a back hallway, a room that shares a wall with the space all those people are gathered, and thank Stark.

“Oh good, he’s heard the dog-whistle of treat time,” Tony quips, and you swivel to see Cap trailing behind you.

He’s already made his excuses to step away, too. It must be bad.

You’re sure to pull out your props of a saline drip and tubing from your bag while Tony can still see, but you drop the act the instant the door clicks shut.

Cap take one step forward to flip the lock, immediately unzipping the fly of his iconic leather suit.

See, the only side effect of the drugs is Rogers gets hard, often, and can’t find relief from his efforts alone. Through trial-and-error, the clear solution has been help—discretely—from the only medical professional allowed around him until his condition improved.

Of course, he fought it. Of course, you wanted to preserve his dignity. Of course, you tried to keep it as perfunctory, methodical, and uninspired as possible, but the thing is, that didn’t last.

The more distant and cold the experience, the faster he became desperate and wanting again, and now you have just twenty minutes to make sure Captain America can hold out for hours.

Steve, you remind yourself. He prefers you not use respectful address when engaging is what he deems entirely disrespectful behavior. 

You need to get him off in essentially no time at all, so you’ve decided: go big or go home.

Bag tossed to the floor, you unbutton your pants and shimmy out of everything from shoes to panties, letting the longer tail of your dress shirt barely cover your modesty.

Steve looks dumbfounded. It’s bad enough he has to run to you for a handy every few hours, but this?

“Doc, no,” he breaths.

“I understand the procedure,” you say calmly, echoing his harrowing consent from that first night he needed you.

Steve’s brow furrows in strain. “We shouldn’t…”

‘We’ are way past ‘shouldn’t,’ buddy.

“Can’t ask you to…“ but he also knows time’s a wasting.

He’s already fisting himself, struggling to be the gentleman he never stopped being, which at the moment is a huge problem because both of you need to get through the day—you without losing your job and him without popping a boner on national television.

It’s your job to break him and break him right now.

“Goddamnit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?”

There’s a flat smack on the door.

“Do whatever the lady wants and then get back out here,” Tony yells from the other side. “Put us all out of our misery,” he ends with a grumble.

That is by far the most helpful thing Stark has said in the last week, so you mouth “see” and begin undoing your blouse from the bottom, giving Steve his first peek of you. His hand speeds along his length, adam’s apple bobbing in concentration.

“Here, I’ll make it easy for you,” you whisper. You walk to the far corner of the room, put your hands up, shirt rising over your bare ass, and face the wall. Your voice is soothing, pleading even. “Just take what you need.”

In some ways, you feel responsible for his predicament. You are the prescribing doctor, he isn’t in a relationship where a partner could assist, and he insists no one else know. He doesn’t deserve to be poked and prodded more than necessary, and you can’t give him any other meds in combination. None of it is his fault same as none of it is yours. You only intended to heal him.

Truthfully though, none of this is just about his release anymore, much as you’d like to dismiss your feelings.

You can’t deny, however, that each time the air gets a little thicker with tension, the body language a little more intimate. Steve has kept his eyes open, clutched your free hand to his chest, rolled his hips open, and thrust up into your fist. The greater the satisfaction of his climax, the longer he retains control.

“When this is over…I swear,” he grits out, getting closer word by word until his deep voice is right by your ear.

He tugs your shirt up to dip his fingers between your legs. “Been smelling you for two days. Can’t do anything until—” Steve growls, feeling how slick you’ve become in anticipation “—you’re ready for me.” 

His concern washes away when two fingers easily breech you to the knuckle and are immediately replaced by the blunt head of his cock dragging between your folds.

You didn’t expect him to give in so fast. You didn’t expect him to have known this aroused you. The idea he might want to continue, to go further, races down your spine, following the opposite path of Steve leaning into you. His forehead presses your occipital as yours presses the wall. The heat of him makes you arch in luxurious proximity.

Steve fucking forward to enter you in one smooth motion makes you forget to be quiet, but before the whole shout of ecstasy escapes, his hand covers your mouth.

“Shhh, Doc,” he breathes at the base of your neck. “Be good for me.”

That only gets you moaning into the seam of his gloves.

His hips start a staccato rhythm, a second of loud friction for each second of silent, fulfilling pressure.

Steve slips his still wet fingers under your shirt and beneath the cup of your bra to swirl a smooth pattern over your nipple. Instead of voicing your approval, you shove yourself back into him faster.

You notice the muffled chatting of Tony and someone else outside while your eyes roll. The slap of your skin against the Cap suit becomes the loudest thing in the room, but that’s not what Steve minds.

He pulls out and spins you around, pausing to see the cream you’ve created at the base of him drip to the carpet below.

Deep sea eyes meet yours through golden lashes.

“If I can’t hear you…” Steve hoists you up to his waist, threading one arm through the bend in your knee, spreading you wide and diving in swiftly.

Your body curls forward automatically to grasp at him and smother yourself in the leather of his shoulder pad. This pace is much faster, purposeful, utterly unravelling you. The position delivers more range of motion, all of the buildup and less of the noise, with the added benefit of his tool belt nudging your clit repeatedly.

Tony pounds on the door. “‘Bout done in there, guys? Let’s go.” How apt, the unknowing jester.

Steve pants, open-mouthed, against your temple.

You smile but can’t stop your own ruin.

A groan gets buried in your disheveled hair. “Are you…close?” His hips snap brutally. “Are you—“ he sounds wrecked “—you gonna…come on my—uungh.”

You tip over the edge, clutching him tight and fluttering for him in every way. The detonation of your orgasm burns red behind your eyelids like camera flashes, a dirty snapshot for you alone.

“Mercy,” Steve begs, gripping your ass to rut into you, desperate to join. His neck tenses as he spills inside you, pulse throbbing in time with his cock. 

He leans against you and the wall, his steady weight stilling your shaky legs. Slowly, your feet are guided to the floor and Steve steps away to wipe away any evidence of his ‘therapeutic treatment.’ His breathing settles much faster than yours, and by the time he’s tucked back in with his suit righted, you’re simply sliding down the wall to catch up.

He hurries over to the small vanity and mini fridge—usually ‘guests’ for speaking (or interrogating) wait here—to bring you supplies.

A box of tissues is set by your side.

“So…” he hands you a bottle of water “…maybe…dinner tonight?” 

You set the water down in favor of cleaning yourself, glancing up to offer a reassuring dismissal. “This morning was your last dose,” you remind him. “It should be over soon.”

Steve may not need this anymore, may never need you again, but he doesn’t miss a single beat.

“I’d like—I want to take you some place nice, but…” He chugs his whole water then quickly unclasps the glove on his left hand, rolling up his sleeve, veins jumping over a thick forearm.

“I don’t know what food you enjoy.”

Arguably, he knows a few other things that you enjoy.

There’s another impatient bang at the door.

“I—“ Your heart soars with the soft sincerity of his face, no trace of fear left behind, no hesitation. “I’m gonna need a minute.”

Steve stands, smoothing a hand over his hair. “I’ll lock it behind me…and, um, thank you, Doc.”

It’s the first time he hasn’t apologized this whole week.

“You’re welcome, sir.”

Steve flashes you a dopey smile and shakes his head. “See you out there,” he chuckles.

You can’t be seen when the door opens just enough for Steve to step out, but he makes a show of rolling the suit’s sleeve back down like he really did have an IV infusion, selling the lie like a pro. He keeps Tony talking while shutting you back into your debauched bubble.

Through the wall, you still hear “could you have gone any slower?” followed by a curt, “yes,” and have to stifle a laugh.

“What’d you do, blow a vein?”

You’re picturing an incredibly ironic look on Captain Rogers’ face.

“Just be grateful she puts up with us, Tony…” and their voices disappear down the hall.

His treatment may be finished, but Steve wants you to stick around. He wants you.

Would having dinner with that man really be so terrible? No. Not at all. Even the ‘worst’ of this situation has been a great fucking experience. You don’t want to give that up yet.

It seems you’re both addicted now.

[Main Masterlist; Steve Rogers One-Shots; Ko-Fi]

[kxsagi]

i have a little thought / request :> bllk boys (hehe… itoshi bros, shidou and isagi preferably 😮‍💨) with their gf and they re like getting touchy n shit but all of a sudden reader s like noo and the guy s asking why?? and she s like… i havent shaved i have a lil bush rn 😒… and bllk boys are like so?? idc?? then they get freaky or smn idk THANKS FOR LISTENING 😜

“𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮”

a/n: HELL YEAH

each scenario is set after they come back from doing long-distance for at least a month! (definitely contains suggestive content + AGED UP characters)

ft. sae itoshi, rin itoshi, yoichi isagi, ryusei shidou

𝐬𝐚𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢

the soft glow of early morning slips in through the window, casting faint golden streaks across the sheets. the room is still quiet, save for the slow, steady rhythm of sae’s breathing behind you. his chest is pressed against your back, warm and solid, rising and falling in a steady cadence that makes you want to stay right there, still and safe, for as long as the day will let you. 

you’re barely half-awake when you feel his arm tighten around your waist, tugging you just a little closer. his hand, broad and warm, splays over your stomach, fingers lightly brushing over the hem of your shirt in slow, absent circles. he exhales softly against the back of your neck, his lips barely grazing your skin, and even though you can tell he’s still half-asleep, his touch grows lazier, heavier. 

his hand drifts lower, fingertips skimming over the waistband of your shorts. it’s a featherlight touch, but it makes you stir slightly, your breathing hitching just enough for him to notice. he hums low in his throat, half-conscious, and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his lips pressing a barely-there kiss against your skin. 

“you’re awake?” sae’s voice is rough with sleep, raspy and low, the kind of voice that only comes with morning warmth. he doesn’t wait for an answer though. his hand is already slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt, his palm warm and firm against your bare skin. he traces lazy patterns along your waist, the touch slow and aimless, more affectionate than anything else. 

he shifts slightly, pressing his chest tighter against your back, and you feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing against you. his lips drift along your shoulder now, slow and lingering, while his hand glides up your stomach, his thumb brushing faintly beneath the curve of your ribcage. he’s barely even awake, but the way he touches you feels deliberate, familiar, the kind of intimacy that only comes with knowing someone in every soft, sleepy morning like this. 

but then you feel it, something hard pressing itself into the flush of your lower back. oh. 

his hand dips lower, letting you know where he already wants to go next. his fingertips graze just beneath the waistband of your shorts, featherlight and teasing, and you feel the deliberate pause in his touch, a silent question, testing the waters. when you hide a smile and shift slightly, pressing back into him, it’s all the answer he needs. 

his breath catches slightly against your neck, and then his hand slips further, fingers brushing over the sensitive skin of your hip. his touch is firmer now, more purposeful, his thumb slowly tracing along the dip of your waist as he pulls you tighter against him. you feel the slow, deliberate drag of his lips against the back of your neck, soft and lingering, but when you tilt your head slightly, giving him more space, he takes it. his mouth trails lower, leaving a line of lazy, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder, teeth grazing lightly just to hear your breath stutter. 

“you’re so warm,” he murmurs against your skin, voice thick with sleep and something else, something deeper. his hand drifts upward again, pushing your shirt higher, his palm flat against your stomach as he drags his fingertips along your ribs, slow and reverent, like he’s savoring every inch of skin he finds. his lips find your jaw next, and he doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t stop touching – his hands, his mouth, every slow, deliberate caress making it clear that he has no plans of letting you get out of bed anytime soon. 

“um, sae…” you breathe out, trying not to interrupt the tension as soon as his hands begin to pull down your panties. “i haven’t shaved down there in a while. it’s… grown quite thick.” 

when you don’t hear a response, you turn your head around, being met with narrowed eyes, practically glaring at you with teal daggers. 

“so? i don’t care.” 

“you… you sure?” 

sae doesn’t answer. instead, he climbs over you, pulling the white duvet over his back as he leans down, placing himself in between your thighs, prying them open with his calloused palms. 

“why’re you hiding from me? you think i haven’t already memorized every inch of you?” 

he moves his hand slowly, fingers splaying wide on your lower back to press your body closer against his. the heat of his skin makes it impossible to tell where you ended and he began. 

and just before closing the distance, he pauses, his lips barely brushing yours, holding you in that sliver of space, as if waiting for you to give in first. “tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, but there’s no hesitation in his touch when his hand slowly slips lower. 

a/n: guys sae would make fun of my bed hair and i would threaten to make his bangs worse

𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢

a/n: header art credits go to paresseux_0_0 on X (ALSO RIN HOLDING A POCARI SWEAT BOTTLE??? I LOVE POCARI SWEAT)

the kitchen was quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional soft creak of the floorboards beneath your feet. the clock on the wall ticked just past midnight, but neither of you cared. you were both half-awake, wandering into the kitchen in search of something to satisfy your late-night cravings. 

you shuffled toward the counter, already opening a cupboard, but before you could even reach for a snack, rin’s hand was suddenly at your waist. firm. deliberate. he didn’t say a word, just turned you around with that same cool, indifferent expression he always wore, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. and before you could process it, his hands were gripping the backs of your thighs, lifting you with ease. 

“wha –” you barely got the sound out before he placed you on the counter, the cool surface making you shiver slightly. your legs instinctively parted just enough for him to step between them. 

his hands didn’t leave you. one slid along your waist, tugging you closer to the edge, while the other slipped behind your neck, fingers threading into your hair. and then his mouth was on yours. slow at first. purposeful. his lips were warm and firm, moving against yours with a lazy confidence, like he had no intention of stopping anytime soon. 

he kissed you deeper, his grip tightening ever so slightly, and you let out a soft sound against his mouth. that was all it took. his hand on your waist flexed, fingers curling into the fabric of your hoodie, and his lips grew more insistent. he angled his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours with slow, deliberate strokes that made your chest tighten. 

the edge of the counter dug into the backs of your thighs as he pressed closer, his hips slotting between your legs. his hands roamed without hurry, one sliding beneath the fabric of your hoodie, his fingertips skimming your bare skin. his touch was slow but sure, tracing idle circles along your waist, his thumb brushing just beneath your ribs, making you squirm slightly. 

when he began to take his clothes off, telling you he wanted more, self-consciousness started to creep in. but before you could say anything, rin caught you, his fingers wrapping easily around your waist. 

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes half-lidded, heavy with something deeper. his expression was calm, cold, and unreadable, just like always, but there was a slight crease in his brow, a flicker of something softer behind the detached facade. 

“don’t,” he muttered, his voice low and steady, almost flat, but there was a roughness in the way he said it. “you’re fine.” 

his thumb slowly stroked the inside of your wrist before he brought it to his lips, brushing a faint kiss against your skin. his other hand slipped back to your waist, warm and sure, fingers spreading wide over your hip as he tugged you closer again. 

“you don’t have to hide from me,” he murmured against your jaw, his breath warm and slow. “i want you. all of you.”

and then he kissed you again, slower this time, more deliberate, his hands anchoring you against him, making it clear that neither of you would be heading back to bed anytime soon. 

𝐲𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

a/n: header art credits go to aimyy.az on tik tok

the night sky sprawled wide and endless, stars flickering like scattered embers. the moon hung low, silver and heavy, spilling soft light over the earth. a faint breeze stirred the darkness, and for a moment, the whole world felt hushed beneath the weight of its beauty. 

the urge to bask in the view for longer was greater than anything else, but unfortunately, like most summer nights, the temperature was dropping by the minute. 

“i’m gonna go back in the car, it’s getting cold,” you say, already shivering and feeling the goosebumps on your skin. 

“wait,” isagi calls, reaching out for your hand and opening the door to the backseat. “let’s sit in the back.” 

you barely have time to register the warmth of the car’s interior before isagi is tugging you closer, guiding you into his lap with a firm grip around your wrist. his large hands are warm – hot, even – compared to the chill still clinging to your skin, and the contrast makes you shiver slightly. he notices. of course he does. 

“still cold?” he murmurs against your hair, but he doesn’t wait for an answer. his hands are already moving. one slides beneath your jacket, fingers brushing along your waist, slowly pushing the fabric aside like it’s in his way. his other hand stays on your thigh, heavier now, kneading absently, but there’s nothing aimless about the way his thumb strokes slow circles over the sensitive skin just above your knee. 

he shifts slightly, leaning back against the seat and pulling you further into him until your chest is pressed flush against his. his nose grazes your cheek as he leans in closer, the warmth of his breath trailing along your skin. and then his lips find the corner of your jaw, barely brushing at first, but then lingering. slow, deliberate. he tilts your face toward him with a gentle nudge of his fingers beneath your chin, and you barely get the chance to catch your breath before his mouth is on yours. 

his hands wander. one drifts up beneath your jacket, fingertips skating along your bare skin, tracing the dip of your spine with featherlight strokes that make you arch slightly into him. the other slides further up your thigh, pushing the fabric of your shorts higher, his thumb pressing just firmly enough into the soft skin to make you squirm. he catches the small sound you make against his lips, swallowing it with a low hum of satisfaction. 

isagi breathes, lips brushing yours between kisses. “still not warm enough, huh?” his voice is low, rougher now, and there’s a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. his hand on your thigh flexes, fingers pressing deeper into your skin before slowly dragging upward, making it very clear that he has no intention of letting you feel cold again. 

then he takes it a step further. without breaking the kiss, he suddenly leans back slightly, pulling his hands away just long enough to grip the hem of his shirt. in one smooth motion, he tugs it over his head and tosses it somewhere behind him, not caring where it lands. the heat of his bare skin meets the chill still clinging to yours, and he exhales sharply when you press against him, your cold fingers splayed over his chest. 

“mmm, that’s better,” he mutters, voice husky, half-lidded eyes watching you as you trace along his skin. his arms snake around your waist again, pulling you impossibly closer. the warmth of his bare chest against you makes you hum softly, and he smirks at the sound, fingers curling into the fabric of your jacket, slowly tugging it off your shoulders. 

“c’mon,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours again, slow and teasing. “need you to warm up properly.” his hands slide along your back, pressing you flush against him, wanting to be skin on skin. 

he’s already taking off your layers, but when he gets to your shorts, you stop him. “wait…” 

isagi pauses, concern flooding his eyes for a brief moment. “what’s wrong? am i taking this too far? i’m sorry, i –”

“no no, it’s not that,” you chuckle, a melody that lifts the tension in the air effortlessly. “i just… haven’t shaved. so i kinda have like… a bush down there, you know.” pink heat rises to your cheeks, embarrassed at your acknowledgment. 

“so?” isagi smiles. “it doesn’t matter, you’re still beautiful to me just the way you are.” 

an appreciative nod is the only gesture he needs for the approval to start taking everything off. the night won’t end until he’s deep inside of you. 

𝐫𝐲𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐮

the fluorescent lights in the dressing room buzzed softly overhead, casting a pale glow against the white walls and full-length mirror. you were standing in front of it, tugging at the hem of the dress you were trying on, inspecting the fit with a slight frown. the fabric clung a little too snugly in places, making you shift awkwardly, fingers twitching to smooth it down. 

“looks good to me.”

shidou’s voice came from behind you, low and teasing, and you caught his reflection in the mirror as he leaned against the doorframe with that familiar, cocky smirk tugging at his lips. his arms were crossed, but his gaze was anything but casual – it was slow and heavy, roaming over you with blatant appreciation. 

“you’re not supposed to be in here,” you mumbled, shooting him a half-hearted glare, but the flush creeping up your neck gave you away. 

“mmm, then you should’ve locked the door,” he hummed, voice smooth and lazy with laced innocence. he pushed off the wall and took a slow step forward, closing the space between you. his arms snaked around your waist from behind, his palms splaying wide over your hips. “too late now.” 

his voice was warm against your neck, and before you could protest, he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss against the curve where your shoulder met your neck. his fingers skimmed over the fabric of the dress, tracing the edges like he was already mapping out the fastest way to get it off you. 

“ryusei…” you warned softly, glancing at the door, the faint hum of store music filtering through. your voice barely came out steady, and you hated how breathless you already sounded. 

he let out a soft, dark chuckle, his breath warm against your skin. “relax,” he purred, “no one’s gonna come in.” his lips dragged along your neck again, slower this time, lingering longer, his teeth lightly grazing your skin just to make you squirm. 

his hands wandered lower, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of the dress, just barely skimming the sensitive skin at the tops of your thighs. you let out a soft, shaky breath, shifting slightly, but then you realized what he was wanting to do. 

“ryusei, i… it’s like a bush down there. i haven’t shaved since the last time we…” 

you don’t continue, because for the first time, you see shidou with concerned eyes. but in a matter of seconds, they quickly melt into soft ones as he catches your hand. his grip was firm but gentle, and he brought your hand to his lips, brushing a soft, slow kiss against your knuckles. 

“nah,” he muttered against your skin, his voice barely above a whisper. his eyes locked onto yours in the mirror, heavy-lidded and dark with something unmistakable. “that’s not gonna stop me from hitting it.”

he guided your hand away, pressing it against the mirror instead, keeping you there with his grip around your wrist. his free hand slipped along your waist, slowly pulling the fabric higher, baring more skin. he was smirking faintly now, but there was a warmth in his eyes, a dangerous kind of warmth, laced with desire and something gentler beneath it. 

“don’t try to hide from me,” he muttered, his voice low and firm, but there was a teasing edge to it. his hand tightened slightly on your wrist, keeping you from tugging the fabric down. he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his breath warm and deliberate. 

his teeth grazed your earlobe faintly before he pressed a slow, lingering kiss just beneath it. “i like you like this…” he rasped softly, his tone dropping lower, rougher with want. “messy. flustered. mine.” 

his hand slid higher along your thigh, fingers slow and deliberate, teasing against your skin. his mouth moved along your neck again, slower this time, his tongue flicking out briefly before he nipped lightly, just enough to make your breath catch. 

“besides…” he exhaled softly against your skin, his voice dipping lower, more playful now. “you’re so fucking pretty when you get shy.”

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[syluslnd]

Hello! Thank you for your service omg ur single handedly carrying Sylus nation‼️🙏🏼

Can I request a scenario where reader (who isn’t MC) has been a long term situationship of Sylus, like they’re very much in love but refuse to commit because of the dangerous nature of their work in the N109 zone, but reader really hopes they’ll end up together, only for all her hopes to come crashing down when suddenly MC shows up and Sylus becomes really neglectful towards reader, only prioritising MC until one day he doesn’t accompany reader to one onichynus’s deals and it goes horribly wrong with the reader getting hurt/abducted. Angst to fluff pls a happy ending with Sylus coming to his senses 😮‍💨

when you become his second priority

tags-angst with eventual fluff,mentions of violence

The night sky over Onychinus’s sprawling cityscape was studded with stars, casting a subtle glow through the towering high-rises.

Sylus had suggested the two of you head out for a mission, a deal with some Onychinus contacts. As usual, you couldn’t resist tagging along, always thrilled to be close to him in his world.

Sylus, tall and intimidating as ever, glanced down at you with a glimmer of amusement in his red eyes. You could tell he was ready to take control of the situation like he always did, exuding confidence and calm in a way that made you feel safe, even in the darkest parts of his world. He looked over at you, his eyes softening slightly as he murmured, “You ready, kitten?”

“Of course, I’m with you” you replied with a grin, bouncing a little as you slid into the passenger seat of one of his luxurious cars. Your bubbly energy was contagious; he always acted as if he wasn’t affected by it but you’d caught him smirking more than once.

Tonight, he rolled his eyes in mock exasperation but his hand settled on yours, holding it a little too long to be casual.

As he drove through the city, you admired the skyline, sharing random stories about your day and small, happy details about your favorite things.

Sylus listened, nodding occasionally, a slight smirk on his face, though his eyes stayed mostly on the road. At a red light, he finally turned, letting his gaze linger on you. “You know, sweetie, you’d be a lot safer if you didn’t join me on these things” he said, but there was a softness in his voice, a hint of protectiveness beneath his usual hard edge.

You gave a playful pout. “Then who’d keep you company and make you laugh?” you teased, reaching over to ruffle his hair lightly. Sylus gave an exaggerated sigh, though you could see his lips twitch, fighting off a smile.

When you arrived at the Onychinus base, the atmosphere shifted. The bustling headquarters buzzed with energy and you could feel the tension as the meeting began.

Sylus’s demeanor turned serious, his attention sharp and unwavering as he led the deal. You watched him, entranced by his confidence and poise. His eyes, intense and calculating, scanned the room, noting every movement and gesture of those around him. It was moments like these that reminded you why he was so respected—and feared.

The deal itself moved forward without any issues but you stayed close, offering your support however you could. Sylus kept one arm loosely draped around you, like a silent reminder that you were his, his “kitten” in this dangerous world. Every now and then, he’d murmur a soft “Stay close, sweetie” his voice laced with the quiet authority you’d come to adore.

At one point, the meeting wrapped up and you were alone again with Sylus in the hallway leading back to the car. As you walked side-by-side, you took his hand, squeezing it gently and looked up at him with a playful grin. “See? We make a great team.”

Sylus chuckled lowly, his fingers tightening around yours. “Careful, kitten” he murmured, his voice dropping to a tone that sent a shiver down your spine. “I might just start believing that.”

He leaned closer, brushing his lips against your forehead with a rare tenderness that he’d only ever shown to you. Moments like these made you wonder if there was something deeper between you both. But for now, you were happy in this undefined space, enjoying his closeness, his rare softness and the way he let his guard down just enough to show you how much you meant to him.

For tonight, you were his and he was yours in the only way he knew how to be and as you laughed and chatted on the drive back, you couldn’t have known how precious that laughter would soon become.

the next morning the café was small and tucked into a quiet corner of the city, with floor-to-ceiling windows that let in soft morning light and gave the place a warm, cozy glow.

You felt an excited shiver as Sylus guided you in, his hand on your lower back, a gentle but firm presence that never failed to make you feel special. The café wasn’t his usual scene but he seemed relaxed, perhaps indulging your love for quieter, more intimate places.

He glanced around, then met your eyes, his mouth quirking into a smirk. “This place…suits you” he murmured, pulling out a chair for you. “Sweet, but a little chaotic.”

You laughed, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’d say the same about you” you teased, settling into the chair. He rolled his eyes but took the seat opposite you, resting his elbows on the table, leaning in close. His gaze, as usual, felt intense, even as his expression softened.

“You’re in a bratty mood today, aren’t you?” he remarked, voice low and slightly teasing.

“Only because you make it so easy” you replied with a smile, reaching across the table to gently tap his hand. “So, what’s the plan? You’re the one who dragged me out here.”

His smirk grew, and without saying a word, he raised a finger to get the barista’s attention. When she arrived, he placed the most absurd order, one that left you wide-eyed: every single flavor of coffee they had on the menu. You tried to protest, laughing as you looked from him to the poor barista, but he only shrugged, looking unbothered.

“You said you always wanted to try them all” he said, leaning back in his seat, arms folded. “So go ahead. Indulge.”

“Oh my god, Sylus!” You felt a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “You know I was joking about that, right?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t joke about things you want, kitten. Not with me.”

The coffees started arriving, filling up your small table with an assortment of steaming mugs, each one a different shade and aroma. Sylus watched as you eagerly tried each, laughing when you made a face at the overly bitter or strangely flavored ones and taking note of the ones that made you hum with satisfaction. Occasionally, he’d reach out, taking a sip of one of the cups himself, then giving you his quiet, amused approval if he liked it.

After a while, you found yourself leaning across the table, sharing sips from the same cup, your laughter mingling in the cozy warmth of the café. You watched him, noticing the rare moments where his features softened, and his usual guarded expression gave way to something gentler.

“Did you always know you’d be leading Onychinus?” you asked, a little more curious now that you’d settled into the warmth of the moment.

He leaned back, tracing the edge of his cup with one finger, his gaze drifting. “I didn’t know. But it wasn’t like I had a choice.” His eyes found yours again, something dark but honest in them. “The things you don’t choose often become the things you’re best at.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t have a choice” you replied softly. “Otherwise, who’d be here buying me twenty coffees?”

He chuckled, a genuine laugh that you rarely heard. “You’d find some other poor fool, I’m sure” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. But his hand moved to cover yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

Just as you were about to respond, his phone buzzed, and his gaze darkened. He glanced at the screen, and for a split second, his expression changed—hardened into something unreadable. He sat up, pulling his hand away from yours and the warmth that had been between you seemed to evaporate in an instant.

You tried to catch his eye, feeling a flicker of unease. “Everything okay?”

“It’s just an…old friend” he muttered, voice suddenly cool and distant. He stood up, turning his back to you as he answered the call, his voice low and strained in a way you’d never heard before.

You couldn’t make out much of what he was saying, but you heard the shift in his tone—calculated, restrained, almost careful. It was a stark contrast to the teasing, soft-spoken Sylus you’d been with just moments before. He kept glancing out the window, one hand shoved deep in his pocket, the other clutching his phone tightly. His words became hushed, tense, as if he was guarding some important secret.

Your mind raced with questions but you pushed them down, trying to respect his privacy. Still, a pang of worry settled in your chest as he finally ended the call, his posture stiff as he turned back to you. The usual warmth in his eyes was absent, replaced by a distant, almost guarded look.

“Sorry about that” he said, his tone flat, almost dismissive, as he pocketed his phone.

You forced a smile, hoping to ease the sudden tension. “No problem. Everything okay?”

“Nothing to worry about.” He gave a faint smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. He seemed distracted and as much as you wanted to believe him, there was a nagging feeling that something had shifted.

It had been days since you’d last seen Sylus. The texts you’d sent were sparse on replies—short, curt answers that only seemed to grow colder each time. You told yourself he was busy, wrapped up in some new mission for Onychinus but an uneasy feeling had settled deep in your chest. You remembered the way he’d brushed you off in the café after that mysterious phone call, the way he’d shut down, closing himself off as if you were suddenly a stranger.

With the next Onychinus deal approaching, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Usually, Sylus would be the one preparing you, going over every little detail so that you’d be safe. But this time, there had been nothing—no message, no warning, no instructions. The silence weighed on you, suffocating, until finally, you couldn’t bear it anymore.

You found yourself standing outside his office door, hesitating. The hall was eerily quiet, an atmosphere that felt darker than it had ever been. You pushed the door open slowly, your heart pounding with a mixture of hope and dread.

Inside, Sylus stood near his desk, leaning in close to a woman you’d never seen before. She had an aura of quiet confidence, her gaze sharp, as if she were sizing him up even as they talked. Their heads were close together, too close. She said something, her tone low and laced with a teasing edge and Sylus chuckled—a sound that sent a chill down your spine. It was the kind of laugh he used to share with you.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to step forward. “Sylus?” your voice cracked, the warmth you usually brought into his space muted by the weight of everything unsaid.

Sylus straightened, his expression darkening the moment he saw you. The easy humor that had filled his face just seconds before vanished, replaced by a cold, impassive mask. The woman beside him glanced at you, her eyes glinting with a kind of curiosity, as though she were sizing you up, wondering what your place in Sylus’s life could possibly be.

“You’re busy” you managed to say, fighting to keep your tone light. “I just thought—I thought we could talk about the next mission.”

He looked at you for a long, silent moment, his gaze empty of the warmth you’d come to expect, replaced by an iciness that felt almost cruel. “I didn’t ask you to come here” he said, his voice low and cutting.

You took a step back, stunned. “Sylus, I…I just wanted to help. You always said I could be useful—”

“You should learn to know your place” he interrupted, his words sharp enough to cut through your heart. He didn’t look away, didn’t flinch. His gaze was steely, indifferent, as though you were nothing more than an inconvenience, a shadow he hadn’t meant to let linger.

It felt like the floor had fallen out from under you. “My place?” you echoed, trying to keep your voice steady even as it threatened to break. “Sylus, what’s going on? You’ve been distant… I thought we—” You stopped yourself, swallowing back the words, but the damage was done.

Sylus’s gaze flicked to the woman beside him, who watched the exchange with an amused smirk, her arms crossed as if she were enjoying every moment of this. He turned back to you, his eyes devoid of any kindness, any of the softness he’d shown you only days ago. “You thought wrong.”

Your throat tightened and the warmth that had once filled your shared moments now felt like a distant memory, slipping through your fingers. You forced yourself to nod, to keep your head up even as your heart shattered with each second of his cold stare. Without another word, you turned and left, not wanting him to see the tears that threatened to spill over, the silent pain you’d carry alone as you walked away from the one person who’d ever made you feel whole.

The drive home felt like a blur, headlights and streetlights passing in a haze as you wiped away tears that wouldn’t stop. Your hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, as your mind raced with everything that had just happened. It was like you couldn’t make sense of it; every memory of Sylus’s familiar warmth and teasing words felt out of reach, replaced by his cold, indifferent face and that harsh tone. His words, “Know your place” echoed in your head, hitting you harder each time you thought of them. You couldn’t understand. Had you pushed him too far? Had he been pretending all along?

The question lingered, gnawing at you as the car rolled down the empty roads leading home. By the time you reached your place, you were exhausted, the adrenaline replaced by a deep, hollow ache.

The next morning, after another sleepless night, you found yourself staring at his contact on your phone, debating whether to call him. The memory of his sharp tone still stung but the confusion was unbearable. You couldn’t just let things stay like this.

Finally, you pressed call, holding your breath as the phone rang. When he picked up, his voice was casual, almost dismissive, as if the tension from yesterday had never happened.

“Yeah?” he answered, sounding distracted. There was no warmth, but there was none of that anger, either.

“Hey” you managed, your voice wavering slightly. “I… I wanted to talk about yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” he repeated, his tone barely interested. “Is something wrong?”

Your heart sank. He was acting like it hadn’t happened at all, like you were the one imagining things. “I just thought—after what you said, I thought maybe we could… clear things up.”

He let out a long sigh, almost like he was bored. “Look, I have things to take care of. If that’s all, I have to go.”

Your grip tightened around the phone, and you felt a chill run through you as he continued talking, casual, unaffected, as if he hadn’t torn into you less than 24 hours ago. He ended the call with a brief “Take care” leaving you standing there with the silence of the empty line.

It was like a stranger had replaced him overnight and the warmth you’d felt was now a painful memory, drifting further out of reach.

The night of the Onychinus deal was bitterly cold and a dense mist clung to the riverbank, muting every sound but the rush of water. You had been hoping—secretly, quietly—that maybe Sylus would show up, that his absence would somehow break and you’d see him standing there with that familiar smirk, ready to tackle the mission together. But the minutes ticked by and the waiting grew heavier, settling like a weight in your chest until the deal began without him.

but in an instant things went horribly wrong, spiraling out of control faster than you could react. You held on as long as you could, fighting with everything you had, but there were too many of them and you were alone. A sharp, searing pain was the last thing you remembered before everything went black, the sound of rushing water filling your senses as you were tossed into the cold, merciless depths of the river.

When the news reached Sylus, it felt like a blow to the chest, robbing him of breath. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing—the thought of you alone, vulnerable, facing the dangers he’d promised to shield you from. His mind raced, replaying every interaction, every cold word he’d thrown at you and the realization clawed at him with an intensity he hadn’t expected. Guilt twisted in his stomach, a relentless ache, as he thought of the way he’d pushed you aside, how he’d let you walk away, hurt and confused and for what?

He moved quickly, barely registering the world around him as he reached the river, scanning the dark waters until he found you, still and pale, lying half-submerged on the riverbank. His heart pounded, a surge of panic piercing through his usual composure as he dropped to his knees, pulling you into his arms with a desperation he hadn’t felt in years.

“Kitten…” His voice cracked, the endearments he’d so easily tossed at you before now carrying a weight they’d never held before. He brushed damp hair from your face, his hands shaking as he checked for a pulse. Relief flooded him when he felt the faint, steady beat beneath his fingertips, but it did nothing to quell the terror that gnawed at him.

“Why the hell did you go alone?” he whispered, his voice trembling with guilt and grief. “You should have known better than to… God, this is all my fault.” He held you closer, pressing his forehead to yours as if his touch alone could bring you back from the brink. Regret crashed over him like a tidal wave, every moment he’d ignored you, every cold word he’d thrown at you haunting him as he realized just how deeply he’d driven you away.

“I’m so sorry, kitten” he murmured, the words spilling out, raw and unfiltered. “I was stupid. I was a fool. You didn’t deserve any of it.” His fingers brushed over your face, tracing the lines of your features as if committing them to memory and he swore to himself that he’d never let you go again.

[verinarin]

recently found your blog and I really love your writings about Dr. Ratio 💖 I was wondering if i could req a headcanon or a scenario where him and the reader were engaged or arranged marriage, and the reader feels a lil left out in their home bcz he seem to not GAF 😮‍💨 I'd love to see how he'd open up to the reader, feel free to ignore this req or decline it, and of course take your time, thank you! ♡♡♡

Aaaa thankuu so much for supporting mee !, tbh Ratio is the only character that I want to write rn ahahahaʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

Fluff & Angst | Angst w comfort because I refuse to write angst without comfort !!!

It’s not a secret anymore, your engagement with Veritas is widely spread throughout the Intelegensia Guild, even the Genius Society heard about the news, how can it not spread ?. You’re both highly respected scholars although both have different approaches to teaching you both still excel in your respective fields. However, no one knows that this arrangement of yours is out of convenience, but you and he agreed that it’ll be mutually beneficial if you both marry

“Let’s marry, I know well that this proposal lacks romance since I’m not marrying for love it’s just I’m quite tired of people pestering about my personal life and it seems you too are tired of people pursuing you, even if it is a loveless marriage I would take care of you and be loyal to you till the end of my breath, so please do think about my proposal because to be frank I can’t seem to imagine spending the rest of my life with someone else,”

That was what he said while you were in the middle of discussing a project with him, the sudden proposal shocked you of course but after mulling it for a week you decided to agree with his proposal, you weren’t expecting a ring but he did give you one, surprisingly it first your ring finger perfectly

You know very well that love is out of the equation in this future marriage of yours, Veritas never seemed to be interested in pursuing love and you respected that but now it seems like you’ve been craving more than you signed up for, it’s started when he first asks you to live with him, it was shocking of course but you’re going to be his wife anyways so why not start early to assimilate to the new environment and dynamic

Things start to go downhill from there since he does these little things. For example, all of the cutlery, knives, plates, and spices were high up on the shelves when you first moved in. He noticed that you struggled grabbing simple things from the shelves, hence he redesigned his whole kitchen to make things more accessible to you

Well the other thing that made you develop feelings for him is your sleeping arrangements, he made you a room inside of his house fully furnished with your favourite books and even your own office inside, the room is hand painted beautifully with your favourite colour when you ask who decorated the room he bashfully replied that all of the things inside your room is fully constructed and decorated by him, is this a loveless marriage you keep pondering over and over as you lay your restless body on the couch

Veritas promised you that he would come home early today to help you with your dissertation, but it seems he’ll be late again. You can’t help but wonder if he has someone out there, but it can’t be he told you himself he would be loyal to you, but you can’t seem to dismiss such a thought

You knew what you signed up for but you still can’t help but fall for him, how naive. Your eyes crystallised as you tried to conceal your feelings, the warmth of your cardigan couldn’t help to warm the loneliness you’ve been feeling, if Veritas was here he would laugh at you, you thought to yourself

You fell asleep on the couch, tired from the stress of your upcoming dissertation. It seems that when you’re already blissfully unaware of the real dimension Veritas comes home. He calls your name to no avail only to see you sleeping soundly on the couch, your cheeks wet from the tears you shed, it tugs a string on his chest as he examines you curled up all by yourself to produce some kind of warmth

Without much thought he quickly took off his coat and put his briefcase on the coffee table in front of you, he sat beside your head before slowly lifting it and resting it upon his thighs. He had always hated to admit his feelings towards you, he thought it was a weakness for him to have, but he has always liked you

He finds it hard to express himself and find it harder to acknowledge that he wants more than this loveless marriage, he was too afraid that you’re not keen towards the idea of loving someone with his track record, and he certainly does not have the best qualities to possess as a husband, yet he would try to become better to make you happy

But it seems he fails to do so, he silently gazes upon your expression, his thumb wipes away the tear stain of your soft skin, he can’t help but question himself, if you wake up would you hate him for this ?

He quietly sighs as he drags his coat and covers your body with it, his hand brushes through your hair softly while grabbing your dissertation off the table, he feels worse than before seeing that you prepared a hot drink and snacks for him before you accidentally fell asleep

So the least that he could do is to let you rest while he reads the contents of your dissertation, your hair feels soft so soft that he can’t seem to focus on your dissertation without petting it

Reading your dissertation is like reading what’s inside of your captivating mind he loves so much, he can’t help but feel lucky that you’ll have his last name soon, that he could flaunt you as a partner as someone equal in future events because he truly thinks that you are his other half

You both have disagreements on certain things yet somehow complement each other so beautifully that he can’t help but feel like he was made to be yours, feeling your skin against his palm as he cups your cheek further proves his hypothesis that his hands are made to hold you, love you, worship you

But his foolish ego seems to restrict him from such necessities, his inability to profess his love verbally would cost him you sooner or later, he just hopes that you could feel how he cares

He never explicitly told you about his adoration for you, yet he’s willing to show you instead hoping one day you’ll see how badly he has fallen for you

He kept lightly tracing your cheeks as he continued to read your dissertation, that’s when you flutter your eyes open, feeling ticklish from the light touch, “Veritas ?,

“Yes dearest ?,” once your eyes meet with his, he knows very well that’s the moment the walls he built and the ego he has dissipate into thin air

[mythicalninjas]

Hello lovely person!! I was wondering if I could get some headcanons for the bay!turtle with a reader who really struggles on their period? Terrible cramps, constantly cranky, always craving something, the whole shebang. If you only want to write for one turtle, then please Leonardo. I’m #struggling on my period rn, and need some comfort from the turtles. Thank you for your time! ��

Hello, my sweetie! Sorry for taking too long. I got your request right when I was on my period as well (I am right now 🥲). I choose to write for Leo this time because I had too much ideas for all of them; it would be a big scenario for each one and I'd take years to finish them 😮‍💨

Rate/Warnings: SFW, receiving care from the leader in blue, menstruation, educational.

Your beloved man would go above and beyond for you to not see you suffer. He understands what is going on because he, along with his brothers, was educated with everything that matters for their lives, basic things everybody should know, right? Thanks to their father; and April.

Under no circumstances he'd think your cramps are sillies or bullshit. Pain is pain. It doesn't matter what kind it is or how it came about.

As you rest on the sofa, you see him out of the corner of your eye approaching with something that looks soft in his hands; it sounding like water. "How are you feeling?", he asks as put the hot-water bottle on your stomach to. You don't even have to ask. "Terrible". Leo smiles out of the corner of his mouth.

Spending some time in bed is all you need after a long day of work, bemoaning the fact there are no laws allowing rest for those who undergo the "bloody days" of the month. You try to snuggle up between the covers, trying every possible position to make the cramps go away. Leo, who is right next to you, notice an agitation. "What's going on, love?" he asked, concerned. You sigh. "I cannot find a comfortable position to rest".

You barely notice the moment his arm circles your waist — until you're pulled gently against him. "What are you-". The leader didn't say anything, he just adjust you in his strong arms untill you fall asleep. He relivied to see how confortable you are right now.

"Honey?" you called, looking up at him. "I feel like eating something sweet-". "Chocolate? I'll get it for you". He knows what to do. Snickers, KitKat, Nestlé; every chocolate or candy he could find (which he grabbed some from Mikey's cabinet hidden behind the fridge, in the kitchen. The orange-clad boy wouldn't mind, at all).

After an entire day of stress and pain, this man is there to make you relaxed, cared, and loved. You can't help but be happy for being with someone who really cares about you.

☆☆☆☆☆

(If you enjoyed it, reblog it to let more people see my content ^^)

[diejager]

if you don't mind can i ask for your take on civilian s/o and yandere makarov? i wonder how he behave around an s/o who's like the opposite of him (like they're kind, gentle and has not known violence ever). hcs or short scenario or anything depends on you i don't mind (there's a drought of makarov content tbh 😮‍💨).

thanks for considering this and please take your time. have a good day 😚.

”Love” Cw: manipulation, obsessive behaviour, delusions of love, humain training, forceful taking, verbal abuse, tell me if I missed any.

Makarov doesn’t love. He knew how to, but he never truly did. He couldn’t with the heart and mind he grew up cultivating, to build his empire and strength, dwindling his heart’s empathy. Ironically, such ignorance towards love only increased his obsession, the amount of it that would only climb higher and higher, because in a sense, the loss of such emotions lead to a loss of a limit, driving him to insane lengths to achieve what he had his mind on.

He only knew death and bloodshed, the destruction of the mundane and corruption of the innocent, being the source of the rot and decay in the cells of a flower, to make it wilt and dust. Perhaps that’s where his interest in the normal stemmed, that curiosity that would someday bloom into obsession. He searched for an object of obsession, something - someone - to put all this attention on, something tangible, solid under his hands and malleable to his intentions. Despite his lack of time to dawdle, to spend on meaningless affairs, he found the perfect subject, someone so starkly different from him and his world.

There was a dichotomy in Makarov’s world, the harshness of war, battle and conquering of countries, and the deceptive softness in his eyes, the gentle touch of his scarred and calloused hands, and the coo with his sly tongue. You were the only softness in his life, a civilian he -one day - decided to pick up from the streets, bright-eyed and innocent to the horror he saw and spear-headed. Your tired eyes untouched by his mind and your scarless body free of any conflict that he could start with a simple wave of his hand.

There’s a need in his mind to see this innocence wilt away, to pry your mind of any autonomy and freedom you’ve lived with. Makarov wanted a doll, something soft and precious he could corrupt with words and ruin with his hands, deceptively gentle and loving, a poem spilling from a cruel smirk and eyes gleaming darkly. He has his ways to turn you into a thing of his imagination, to make you into his willing Russian doll, layer over layer of maliciousness and subservience.

He’s a man of culture, letting the people under him do all the dirty work. Despite all the viciousness and madness in his being, he doesn’t hit, he doesn’t abuse the object of his obsession, that was reserved for men lower than him, poor and mindless men. Rather, he preferred manipulation, well-thought words used in right situation to have you crawling back to him for safety, protection and comfort. He wanted you to come to him on your own, to make your pliant and uncaring of the wider view. He, after all, took you for himself, to endure himself in a second source of power.

Makarov has a silver tongue, whispering words into your ears that take root, your doubts and fears growing in the depth of your heart, bringing you closer to the man who promised to protect you. His fingers wiping away your tearful cheeks, pearly gems rolling down your cheek as he teases you about being worried. You shouldn’t be so fearful with him beside you, he’s your warden, your all-powerful and dependable lover.

He won’t let a shred of suspicion towards him fester, it’ll be dealt with swiftly with the call of your name, breaking down your vulnerable mind and building it back up in his image, his opinions were yours, his thoughts were yours, his goals were yours. So much so that you were his, knowing fundamentally that whatever he said goes.

”мой маленький цветок,” he mumbled, pressing his lips against yours, hands soft but wandering, laying down chains over your waist, around your dainty wrists and tightening the collar around your neck, keeping the hold on your mind, “You did so well, I’m proud of you.”

Positive reinforcement. He often used positive reinforcement to deepen his hold, to sink his teeth into your clean soul. Sweetened words with a voice he taught you to crave and possessive touches of bloody hands with intentions that he blinded you of, finding a way to make you want them.

“What do you say?” His hand traveled up your jaw, featherlight fingers cradling your ear and cheek until it stopped under your chin, tilting your head to look at his narrowed eyes, proud and dark.

“Thank you, Vladimir.”

He smiled, a thin-lipped grin.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia

[gulnarsultan]

Jaehaerys Targaryen’s reign.

Yandere Aemon: Y/N, I’m marrying Jocelyn, will you join us in the wedding?☺️

Yandere Baelon: Y/N, I have claimed Vhagar. Come on, I want to show you my new tricks!☺️

Yandere Alyssa: Y/N, I’m going to marry Baelon and I hope you will join us in our wedding.☺️

Immortal modern Reader thinks they want her to marry them: I DON’T WANT TO MARRY YOU! 😾

Yandere Aemon, Baelon and Alyssa confused: No, we were asking if you would be present for our wedding.😶😶😶

Immortal modern Reader: Oh… thank goodness you don’t want to marry me.😶😌😮‍💨

Yandere Aemon, Baelon and Alyssa: Do you want us to marry you?👀👀👀

Immortal modern Reader: Absolutely not!😾😡

I mean… Immortal modern Reader was married to the Conquerors, somehow tolerating Maegor and Rhaena and now she has to deal with romance from Jaehaerys’s and Alysanne’s children? No thanks. She’s an old tired cat who just wants to live peacefully.

Imagine Immortal Modern Reader scolding Jaehaerys and Alysanne for their children’s romantic gestures.

P. S. To avoid confusion, call me (Immortal modern anon).

Reader

Hello dear. Thank you for this beautiful scenario. Poor reader. She is an old grumpy house cat. The children should leave her alone. She was already difficult to deal with the three Conquerors, Maegor and Rhaena. She was especially tiring to deal with Maegor. I imagine that Jaehaerys and Alyssana might have romantic feelings for the reader. Jaehaery and Alyssane's children are also romantically in love with the reader, and they happily embrace the triple marriage. However, the reader is reluctant to deal with them.

[leejenowrld]

Trying to catch up on all the back to you asks bc that is my favorite world in this universe you created (but h2h might change that teehee) ✨ saw that horny asks are welcome and giiirl my mind is all about giving a good suck right now 🤭 i love how unpredictably wild y/n and jeno can get with each other, even with kids! Like what do you mean y/n and jeno can go from reading a book to their babies to dirty talking and humping in the hallway the next minute 🤩 i love iiiit

These are just thoughts my brain wants to imagine for my favorite couple, can you let us know if the couple participates in these kinks?

-jeno and y/n’s mommy milkers, does he love the view…and the taste?

-tongue sucking 😩 “stick out your tongue baby” 😭😭

I was trying to think of a kink that has to do with an unpredictable inanimate object, and oh my frick, this is the freakiest thing i can think of and i’m getting so horny just trying to picture it:

-jeno drinking from a beer bottle, y/n stealing the bottle and rubbing her juices on the bottle tip while giving him a good blowie, then giving jeno back the bottle for him to taste 🤭😮‍💨

first of all, thank you!!! genuinely—i’ve been waiting for an ask like this, and you honestly just made my night. it’s so fucking attractive how your brain works, how you’re not just asking for the same tired tropes but actually coming in with unique filthy ideas that make me wet just reading them. i swear, the moment i read your message, i had to bite my lip—there’s something so real and honest and unfiltered about your fantasies, babe. this is the stuff i wish more people would ask for: playful, messy, a little wicked, a lot of fun. it’s so sexy to me when someone knows what they want and doesn’t hold back.

seriously, don’t ever stop sending me these kinky, out-of-pocket, one-of-a-kind prompts. give me the details, give me the mess, give me the “we’re parents but we’re still filthy for each other” energy. you want dirty milk play in the kitchen? the thrill of sneaking around the house, risking it all for a quickie in the closet while the kids nap, or using household objects in ways that would definitely get you side-eyed at playgroup? i want it all. tell me more. make it weird, make it feral, make it us. i mean it—there’s nothing hotter than being surprised by a wild new kink or a creative setup, so if you’ve got them, keep them coming, babe. let’s make this little world even filthier together. give me your wildest scenario, and i promise i’ll turn it into the dirtiest thing you’ve ever read.

oh babyyyy, you really said “let’s go feral” and my brain is thrumming. i’m obsessed with how you get the jeno and y/n dynamic—because it’s never just vanilla missionary in the dark, it’s a whole damn symphony of chaos and filth and laughter and “how fast can we get away with this before a kid wanders in?” i live for it.

jeno and the “mommy milkers?” devastated. you think he doesn’t spend half his nights face-planted between your tits, murmuring, “let me, just let me, please—”? it’s almost a compulsion—one hand under your shirt, cupping, stroking, brushing his nose across your nipple with that low, desperate moan that means he’s the one ruined by the view, not you. there are entire mornings where you’re just trying to get dressed, but he’s kneeling at your feet, shirt pushed up, mouth greedy, teeth gentle, eyes hungry as he latches and pulls, tongue warm, hands spanning your ribs—sometimes he whines, “need it, fuck, can’t get enough, let me taste,” and you just laugh, cradling his head, whispering, “good boy.”

sometimes it’s not enough—he needs to be ruined, wrecked, your legs braced on his back as he suckles harder, so greedy and messy, drool slicking your skin, desperate little whimpers echoing, “please, mama, want all of you, want your milk, please, let me come—” and you let him rut against your thigh, his cock hot and leaking, grinding, frantic, all his pride gone, just your fucked-out pretty boy gasping for permission, eyes glazed and begging, “please, mama, let me, need to cum, need you so bad, please, fuck—” and you shush him, one hand in his hair, the other wrapped around his throat, low and dangerous, “good boys wait for their mama, don’t they?” and he nods, wrecked, shuddering as you squeeze, body trembling, sobbing out, “i’m your good boy, please, let me, let me—” until you finally let him, his orgasm breaking over him like a storm, ruined and shaking, desperate and so fucking yours.

oh, but “stick out your tongue, baby”—jeno is so depraved with it, you don’t even get a warning. you’ll be brushing your teeth, or standing in the kitchen, and suddenly his thumb’s in your mouth, parting your lips, voice rough: “let me see that pretty tongue.” he’ll tease it with his own, sucking, biting, rolling it in his mouth until you’re squirming, giggling, heat burning between your legs—sometimes he gets so into it, he just has to fuck you with his tongue right there, dropping to his knees, spreading your thighs, eating you out so slow and filthy that you’re sobbing, grabbing his hair, while he’s humming, “so sweet, wanna taste you all day.” he’ll drag you back from the edge with a smile, your lips and chin slick, breathless, and then start all over just because he can.

the beer bottle? oh, that’s child’s play compared to the shit you two get up to. picture this: you’re at a backyard party, everyone around, and he’s tipping a cold bottle to his lips, smirking at you across the table. you watch him swallow, tongue darting out to lick the rim, and your thighs clench. later, in the hallway, you grab the same bottle, slide it up under your dress, grind against it—wet, needy, shameless—until it’s slick with you. you push it into his hands, lock eyes, and purr, “taste me.” he brings it to his mouth without blinking, tongue flicking over the glass, sucking every drop, groaning, “fuck, that’s mine, you’re mine,” pulling you close for a messy, open-mouthed kiss.

and unpredictability? it’s your whole thing. reading stories to the kids with his hand under the blanket, tracing slow circles on your thigh. humping in the laundry room, dryer humming, you perched on top of the machine while he eats you out with the door open, both of you grinning at the thrill. shower sex, you pressed to the glass, steam everywhere, water running down your bodies, his hands in your hair, breath hot against your ear, “want you, right now, fuck—bend for me.” outside in the garden, the wind teasing your skin, giggling as you straddle him behind the shed, teeth marks blooming on your collarbone, grass stains on your knees, biting down on his shoulder just to keep from screaming.

sometimes you pull him into the nursery, locking the door, his palm flat over your mouth as he fucks you hard from behind, low and fast, your bodies shaking with the effort to keep quiet. there’s the thrill of maybe getting caught, the secret smiles over breakfast, the way you both have to bite back laughter when serin says, “why mama’s hair messy?” and jeno just grins, “because your mama’s too pretty, that’s why.”

and always, always, it’s the push and pull—the quick, dirty handjobs under the table, the way you ride him in the back seat while the kids nap, gasps muffled in his neck. sometimes he just has to watch you touch yourself while he strokes himself, eyes locked, filthy words whispered between you—“that’s it, baby, show blue how you like it, fuck, you’re perfect, all mine.”

you’re wild for each other—still, always, forever—and the world could be burning outside, but as long as you have this heat, these stolen moments, these bruising, beautiful, filthy nights, you’ll never lose each other. now tell me what kink you want next, and i’ll make it even filthier.

[yeahxsurexokay13]

forget about us, mason mount

summary: yn and mason have been broken up for 5 months and both have apparently moved on from each other but then yn's unexpected new single happens

warnings: the song mentioned is 'forget about us' by perrie because i have been obsessed with it ever since it came out !!!! but for the sake of the smau i have decided to completely ignore the parts where she talks about not wanting to go back to where they were lol

y/n.y/l

Liked by taylorswift and 1.075.733 others

y/n.y/l well, here's the truth of it

view all 3.130 comments

fan1 spill the tea bestie we're all ears ☕☕☕👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼

fan2 we're getting nEW MUSIC EVERYBODY

jackgrealish Reckon this one will make the pre match playlist?

y/n.y/l we'll have to see if it passes the vibes check 🥸

fan6 so it's a break up song 🥲 confirmed.

fan3 are these lyrics? 👀

user1 looks like we're about to get the inside scoop on the breakup

fan4 don't bother zooming in on slide 3 it doesn't work

jobebellingham 👩🏽‍🍳

y/n.y/l 🤫

fan7 WHAT DOES HE KNOW

fan8 not jude's brother commenting.........

selenagomez Love seeing you in your element 🫶 liked by y/n.y/l

fan5 Here come the tissues 🤧🤧

y/n.y/l

Liked by perrieedwards and 1.790.201 others

y/n.y/l big thanks to @/edsheeran for helping me put my heart into words and to the amazing @/allieavital for directing this mv with such brilliance and kindness.

'forget about us' song and mv are yours at midnight!!! 🌃

view all 3.802 comments

fan1 aaAAAAAAAHHHHHHH ASFJK

niallhoran YES! Been hyped for this release. Let's goooo!

y/n.y/l thank you! this means so much coming from you!!! x

fan2 i've been trying to make out what the song might be about by this 5 second video and it's safe to say i have nothing

fan3 like wth is she supposed to be seeing on those tvs?

fan4 CAN MIDNIGHT HURRY UP PLZ AND THANK YOU

edsheeran It was an honour to work on this with you. Can't wait for everyone to hear it 🙌 liked by y/n.y/l

fan5 can't wait to watch and listen 💖

fan6 already preparing myself emotionally for this song bc if it's about Mason idk if i'll survive 😭😭😭

fan7 yn's music always hits differently when it's inspired by real life experiences 😮‍💨

y/n.y/l

Liked by masonmount and 1.507.893 others

y/n.y/l fuk sad feelings

tagged: madelyncline

view all 3.410 commets

fan1 a negroni… sbagliato… with prosecco in it

y/n.y/l oh stunning

fan2 MASON IS BACK IN THE LIKES EVERYBODY MOVE

fan4 what if he heard the song?

fan2 he DEFINITELY heard the song lol

madelyncline Did you know i am obsessed with you?

y/n.y/l giggling and kicking my feet i love u bb

fan3 I spy with my little eye... Mason in Y/n's likes 🚢🚢🚢🚢🚢🚢🚢

fan5 this has me imagining all sorts of scenarios please let this mean something

fan6 my babies @.y/n.y/l @/madelyncline 😍❤️

fan7 UR SO PRETTY WTH

y/n.y/l

📍 portsmouth

Liked by sophiaaemelia and 2.390.276 others

y/n.y/l writing about how much i want one direction to get back together next

view all 4.376 comments

fan1 AS SOON AS I SAW THE LOCATION I KNEW OMFG

fan2 my heart is so happy 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

user1 You and Mason are too cute! But seriously, we need that One Direction reunion song.

declanrice ❤️

fan6 "but when I hear your name, it's still so raw. do you ever feel the same way too?" looks like he did!!!

fan3 okay this wins for the most creative way of saying 'we're back together' lol so happy for you two 💕💕

user2 i'd stream that song on repeat until it happens

fan4 mum and dad arE BACK TOGETHER YAY

fan5 if your song works, I'll be forever indebted to you!!!

user3 been rooting for you two since day one!! so happy to see you back together 🥰

masonmount Your biggest fan forever ❤️

y/n.y/l my number 7 ♥️

[serpentsillusion]

**MC shows Sebastian and Ominis her pet cat.**

MC: Dis my cat *holds cat up like a baby*

Sebastian: Aw, look at the kitty! Ominis: Uhm...

MC: Pet him.

*Sebastian goes to pet him* *mreowwwww..... CHOMP!*

Sebastian: OW! HE FRICKIN BIT ME!! 😨😫

MC: awwww! So cute! 🥰

Ominis: Maybe he just doesn't like you Sebastian, animals are good judges of character you know. Let me try. 😒

*Ominis puts his hand out to pet da kitty*

*Mreowwwwwwww....hiss*

Ominis: Nevermind. 😐

MC: Aww! He likes you guys! 🥰Sebastian: That cats frickin feral!! What the hell?! Oh my Merlin what if I have rabies now?! *Glares at MC* 😤😮‍💨

Ominis: it's MC's cat, of course it's going to be feral. We should have known. 🙄

MC: He spicy kitty.🙃

Sebastian: Just like you. 😒

Apologies guys for being MIA! I've been battling a huge wave of depression and taking care of medical stuff. I've got plans to unleash a booty ton of content here soon, but the climb is exhausting. 💔 Thank you to everyone who's supporting me and remaining patient as I get through this hump in my life! You guys are the real MVP'S. 💚

Here is a random thought scenario of spunky Jess and the boys. Also, is a Garreth fetish becoming a thing?

Absolutely!

Stay tuned.

🐍✨💚✨🐍

[xxsugarbones]

-as a kite 🪁

-just 🍃smoking🍃 with your fave character

cw- implied afab!reader but no terms used, heavily implied plus size reader, dr*g usage (weed), brief mention of oral (reader rec.), brief mention of p in v, shotgunning at the end

wc - 1.1k

|| an - hello!! this is my first post so pls be nice because i am terrified of posting this lmfao. very clearly inspired by the fact that i am currently high as a kite and these are just my cheeky little delulu ramblings 😭 This is obviously very self indulgent because all i can every think about doing while high is these kinds of scenarios 😮‍💨

pls enjoy!!

Lately I’ve been thinking about smoking with my faves- or even just getting high with them in general. Whether it be edibles, smoking joints, or smoking cones.

But to be very specific, instead of having edibles or smoking a joint, you two are sharing a bong. Short, but slender, the perfect little “pocket rocket” as you liked to call it. Perfect for travelling, and for moments like these, so he doesn’t burn himself too easily.

He’s got you straddling his lap, one of your hands holding the bong up to your lips and the other resting just atop his wrist, holding him still. One of his own hands held the lighter to the cone piece, allowing you to take the deep inhale, while the other made sure to keep your loose hair pushed back with two fingers, almost cupping your face in the process. He could feel the heat from the lighter on the thin skin of his wrist, but he paid no mind to it, instead watching the way the thick white smoke filled the chamber. You almost finished the entirety of the pull but had to pull back just towards the end, eyes closed and head quickly throwing back. Thick, rolling ‘o’ shaped puffs of smoke were blown from your mouth, and he watched them rise up, rolling for a good few seconds before they slowly dispersed.

“Ooh, nice ones, baby. Think they’re the best ones you’ve done so far.” He praised, moving the hand from your hair down your neck, running it gently along your torso and hip, until letting it come to rest on your thigh to keep you steady. Which turned out to be a good move, because a few seconds later you moved the hand from his wrist, tucking your mouth into your elbow and coughing. He chuckled, shaking his head and taking the bong from you, setting it to the side and raising his hand to carefully help rub over your chest to try and soothe the burning feeling with his warm palm. The coughing fit lasts for a few seconds, before you can finally relax, letting out a shaky sigh. You opened your eyes, little tears from how rough the fit was wetting the corner of your bloodshot eyes, and a sheepish little smile pulling your lips upwards. He laughed and just how high you actually looked.

“Oh honey.” He cooed, reaching for the little bottle of water he’d kept by his side just in case. He slipped it into your hands, and you thanked him sweetly, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. He watched your throat bob ever so slightly as you swallowed the water, and he hummed out a lazy “no worries” in response. He watched you fully relax again, screwing the cap back on and setting it back down and your sides.

“Y’feelin’ better now?” He cooed, his hand sliding down the centre of your chest, making your cheeks flush at the intimate touch, and smoothing it down your stomach, your muscles twitching a little at the almost ghostly touches. You weren’t ticklish, but that particular spot, just above your pubic bone, the soft pudge of your stomach was sensitive to his touch. He enjoyed the feeling of the flesh subtly twitch under the palm of his hand, and it always made your breath shudder at the same time.

“Y-Yeah. I’m good.” You breathed, just watching his eyes take in your slightly dopey expression. He chuckled, carefully grabbing your jaw and pulling your face forward towards his own. You angled yourself down so he could connect your lips in a sweet kiss. You cooed against his lips, your hands gently cupping the sides of his neck to keep him close to you. A few soft kisses ended up turning into a slow make out session, your arms thrown around his neck, a hand carefully tangled into the roots of his hair at the back of his neck, nails scratching nicely along his scalp, while his hands rest on your ass, squeezing and very occasionally smacking the thinly covered flesh over your little pyjama shorts. His tongue lapped slowly at yours before carefully pulling it into his own mouth, giving it a little suckle that made you whimper against his lips. He returned it with a chuckle, letting your tongue go after one last gentle lick of his own against the tip, and you pulled back for air, panting. He reached up, using the palm of his hand to carefully swipe away some combined spit that had dribbled from the corner of your mouth. He looked cocky- he always looked cocky when you were like this, flustered and needy, just for him. It meant he could play with you just how he liked, and hell, you were not complaining. Sometimes he would lay you on your back, head between your thighs and licking and sucking you like you were the sweetest treat on earth, your sensitive body writhing under his ministrations while he had his fill. Or he’d have you on your hands and knees, face pushed into the pillows and your back arched, kneeling behind you and fucking you absolutely dumb until you had forgotten your own name, and could only recite his like a mantra. And you loved every single second of it.

But as you whined when he didn’t move for a moment, he simply reached over for the bong, plucking it back up once again and carefully tucking it into your hand again, and snatching up the lighter off the couch cushion. He smirked at your slightly surprised expression.

“Aren’t you gonna have any, baby?” You questioned softly. He hushed you, watching you slot your lips into the glass, and sparked the lighter up again, watching you once again inhale, the smoke rising quickly into your mouth, and into your lungs.

“‘s fine, I’ll have some after you finish yours, pretty. Just thought you could use a top-up.” He taunted, eyes half lidded and seductive. You pulled the remainder of the cone with relative ease, pulling back from the bong and once again leaning down, holding the smoke in your mouth, until you were close enough to softly blow it onto his face. He wanted to tease, so could you. He let out a sound between a sneer and a purr, quickly nearing his lips to yours as he inhaled the smoke you blew into his face.

“Little minx.” He growled, smacking your ass again, making you jump, then giggle, blowing him a kiss.

Yeah. 😩

[thosefuzzywordfeelings]

slutty saturday anon again; what about making gator/s3 steve/baron whimper for the first time?

loved loved loved what you wrote for the tongue kiss 💗💗💗

omg hi hi nonnie! i absolutely adore these, and thank you! that last one is getting a lotta love & i’m grateful 🤭

CW; smut (18+), mentions of oral (m receiving), mentions of toys 😮‍💨✨

Gator:

Roy is fast, FAST asleep in their house and a good job too, otherwise he’d be awoken to the metal clanking of you and Gator stumbling into the dimly lit stables. A champagne coloured horse lay curled up in the corner of the sand, asleep too and oblivious to the giggles coming from the pair of you. With his hands cupping your face, Gator’s lips had barely left yours since he’d picked you up at 1am, texting you to say he ‘needed you’ and ‘missed your pretty mouth’. So here you were, tongues rolling over each others and teeth clacking together messily as you smiled against one another. Gator pulled away for less than 5 seconds to try and find somewhere to lay you down, knowing he couldn’t take you into his house. But you’d had an idea since he texted you. He’d missed your pretty mouth? He can get it then. You pulled away, gripping the fabric of his black undershirt as you balled it up in your fists.

“What’re you doing darlin’?” Gator chuckled, a crooked smirk on his face.

“Shut up for a minute.” You’d respond, one hand drifting to his belt before using the other to push him up against the bars of the stable gates. His back hit the metal with a soft clank as a small whimper left his mouth.

“What was that, Mr Tillman?” You’d say with a more cunning smirk than his, reaching to unzip his pants as you sank to your knees in front of him.

With a cough to clear his throat, he’d try and regain composure.

“Nothin’, just - keep -“ And there it was again, the soft whimper from his lips as you wrapped yours around the head of his cock softly. You’d smile before taking him in as far as you could, wanting to keep hearing that pretty whine more often.

S3! Steve:

Okay so if you look at the photo above and tell me this man doesn’t whimper, you’re lying, thanks. Anyway, the scenario (slightly familiar because i’ve decided i have a thing for fucking steve at work and just public anything in general oops-) coming to mind is this:

he’s on shift at scoops. sat gnawing on a banana in the back room as he tilts the chair on its back legs and has to put an arm out to catch himself. luckily you’ve come to see him and your torso catches the back of the chair instead, your hands coming out to grip the wood.

“Watch out, you big idiot.” You’d giggle as he sat up straight, almost choking on a lump of banana as he smiled up at you.

“Hi - god, hi-“ Steve would stutter excitedly, patting his lap gently as he held his arms out. You’d settle sideways in his lap, kissing him immediately with urgency, it had been a whole 22 hours since you’d seen each other and that was foul to the both of you.

When you pull away, you’d take a minute to study his pretty face; lips candy pink and a little wet from the kisses. His eyes would be wide as they looked back up at you, chocolate brown twinkling with adoration and a hint of the usual lust he felt constantly for you.

“Look so pretty - Stevie -“ I whispered softly, stroking a curl of hair away from his face. His breath hitched slightly as he shuffled underneath my body, his hands clasping together around my waist.

“Y-yeah? Not as pretty as you.” He stuttered again, licking his lips and letting his eyes flutter down to your chest that really wasn’t too far from his eye-line.

“We can debate all day long, but this angle? The way you’re looking up at me with these little-“ You’d run your thumbs over his cheeks softly, “puppy eyes. You look like you’d do anything I told you to right now.” You’d tease with a slight giggle, not taking it too seriously until the most heavenly whimper left his lips. He wouldn’t even be embarrassed about it, too busy staring up at you to care about what his own body was doing in response.

“I - I absolutely - I would.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Anything.” Steve would say breathily, his voice slightly shaking as you ‘adjusted’ yourself in his lap. Biting his lip so he didn’t let out another whine, your thumb would pull his bottom lip out from the traps of his teeth and he’d chuckle nervously.

“You’ll do anything for me right?” He’d nod.

“So let those pretty noises out for me, okay?”

(barking at sub!steve bye)

Baron:

okay so our sweet baby boy (i always picture sweet baron, instead of cunning clever baron but for sure wanna write about him too one day 😮‍💨).

Baron’s the cute postal guy you see around your town right? You’d spoken to him a few times, being his age and all. Riding his bike with this hazy daydream smile on his face like nothing in the world mattered. He was like a little glittering dandelion, long tendrils flying in the wind as he sped down your lane, occasionally stopping at your house with clothes deliveries or…more adult parcels. Not that he’d have any idea of what’s inside, but you always felt a little shy when he’d pass you a heavier box with his innocent smile.


Like this time. You’d ordered yourself some new toys and lingerie with a discount code your friend had sent over, but it was a new company. One that until the very last moment as the cute boy stood in front of you with the most beetroot red cheeks you’d ever seen, did you understand they had NO qualms about putting the item list on the top of the box.

“Oh, uh hi Baron.” You’d say gently as you opened the door to the sweet boy again. His hands seemed a little shakier than usual as he used both arms to pass the heavy box over, his eyes skimming the top and widening slightly.

“Uh, hi…hi, yeah. This here - this here says toys? Toys? Like as in - I ain’t never seen- you? - anyway they’re yours.” Baron mumbled shyly. You’d nod softly, taking the box and putting it down, thanking him kindly as he began to turn away.

“Hey, Baron?” You’d ask after him. He’d turn slowly, a thumb tucking his hair behind his ear as the other tucked in the pink pocket of his shorts. He’d smile in response as you came down your porch steps.

“You know where I live…incase you wanna find out more about what I ordered…” You’d whisper confidently, stroking the right side of his hair and tucking it away too.

A small mewl left his lips as he looked down across your body quickly. “Sorry, I uh - I need to get back to work, your offer is um, I would love -“ You’d silence him with a finger against his lips, getting real close as he stumbled a little.

“I see the way you stop outside the Donaldson house over there, Baron,” You’d point to over his shoulder at the home opposite yours. He’d stand by their mailbox and look over at your window, hoping to see you past the open blinds. “You stare. Looking for me?” You’d whisper, resting your hand on his chest as it rose and fell quicker by the second with each lust-filled frantic breath.

“You’re so damn pretty.” He’d whimper out shakily. He wanted to kiss you, watch you, taste you. And admire from afar just how it was you’d use those toys you ordered.

(sweating profusely)

[lay-z]

You and Simon having a quiet night watching a movie… which spirals into a slow lax make out session. Your hands are moving over his chest and your finger catches on his nipples, just slightly poking through his black shirt. You can feel him shutter and kiss you harder. A smile forms on your face, this might become a more interesting evening after all.

Why thank you for putting some daydream scenario in my head right before I go to bed 🥰

I just know he has sensitive little pink nips ugh 😮‍💨 Christ...

[urno1luv]

that ningning fic is fucking crazzyyyyy 🙏🏽😭

you wrote ning's character is so interestingly and complex like im just dying to know more about her all throughout the story. like the way she's started to feel. rage, obsession 😮‍💨 honestly I'd pay good money for a book or a movie like this!

i loved it so much and you wrote it sooo well. i have a hard time imagining scenarios sometimes but the descriptions are so clear like i was actually there. 😮‍💨

thank you for this!! i was watching so many dystopian shows and movies, cyberpunk video tutorials so i could get this as accurate as possible, i'm so glad it paid off😭there were lots of things i could've added tbh, like there should've been more progression into the relationship between y/n and ningning instead of going straight to pound town, i should've expanded a little bit more before that, but thanks again i'm glad you enjoyed it🥹

[rebel-moon-snz]

📌 INFO ABT SNZ BOY📌

*PLZ READ*

Hi! I’m Moon :3

I am a 19 yr old college student who’s had a sneeze kink since as long as I could remember! And as I get older and gain more autonomy and free time I wanna dive even further into this kink of mine ⭐️🌙🌟

GET TO KNOW ME

DNI MINORS and NON SNZ BLOGS! I am only here to talk to consenting adults about my kink and don’t want anyone else involved. Thank you!

THIS IS ALSO A VERY KINKY BLOG!!! Please DNI if that’s not your groove! Thank you!

I am sadly very non sneezy :( I have no known allergens

(This just means I’ll have to experiment on how to induce myself what who said that)

I want to start recording WAVs whenever I have free time :3 Send requests!

PLEASE SEND SNEEZY + KINKY INBOX QUESTIONS! Get creative! Get freaky! Basically no limits besides overtly creepy shit. Try your worst dorks!!! There’s an anonymous option for a reason!

DMS OPEN :D

I am bisexual so all sneezes are loved :3 But I definitely still have a preference for women. Still all sneezy guys, gals, and nonbinary pals hmu! 🌟⭐️

I reside in the MOUNTAIN STANDARD TIMEZONE (the best timezone 😎)

Frank Ocean girly ‼️❣️

Cigarettes After Sex girly

TV Girl girly

Snz Likes + Dislikes

*I will try to keep this accurate and updated*

LIKES:

Stifles 🤤🤤🤤

Half stifles 🤤🤤😩

Sneezes that end in “-chuu!!”

Wet sneezes / spray 😩

Caretakingcaretakingcaretakingcaretaking

Girly/Dainty sneezes

Hitches + long buildups

ANNOUNCEMENTS!!

MALE STIFLES / PATHETIC SNEEZES 😩

Male feminine sneezing

MENTIONING ALLERGIES / “Oh my nose is soooo itchy” 😮‍💨😮‍💨

DISLIKES:

Scream sneezes

Overly snotty sneezes / blows

Overly masculine sneezes

“Dad” sneezes 🤢

Most contagion scenarios (unless fictional)

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥KINKY INFO❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Submissive 👑

Switch

Mommy/Daddy

Praise kink

Degrading kink

Masochist

Owner dyanmic

Rope bunny

Brat!!!!!!

*Might be more productive to just list dislikes but-

Ty for reading!! Hope to make lots of dope sneezy friends!

[itchy-nostrils]

5, 7, 19🥺

Thanks for playing 🫶🏻

5 - What are your fav tropes / themes?

Apologetic. Embarrassed. Holdbacks or attempts to suppress how strong the sneeze is. Announcing.

7 - Dream scenario to read/see/hear/experience irl?

WEAK for a man sneezing in a public place that aligns with my fav tropes above 🫠😮‍💨 Slightly embarrassed and trying to turn away/take a few steps away from a group… trying to be polite and suppress the strongest of sneezes… getting bashful and apologetic that he needs to keep interrupting conversations or activities.

PLEASE 🫠🫠🫠

19 - What would you like to see more of, and you are trying to promote / add more of that into the community?

Snz visuals!! That aren’t just mess (selfishly - the mess and spray ain’t my thing 😅)

Give me a nostril 🫠… show me a hand wave and a chest rising with a big inhale 🫠… lay an itchy nose rub on me 🫠

I do a lot of visuals because *I* know I love a visual 😇