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The Avengers 2012 era was the best time ever in the fandom

Thor loves pop tarts, Clint lived in the vents, Bruce and Tony did science together, Steve was the mom friend of the team and did art in his free time, Natasha was cool aunt of the team, Loki was there too and a bunch of other characters like Peter, Sam, Bucky, Vision and Wanda all lived in the Avengers tower together

It was a much simpler time where everyone in the fandom was chill and having fun together

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I absolutely need NEED anime fanfic writers to make more fanfics on Bleach characters because what do you mean there are zero to none fanfics about some of the hottest anime characters like wtf???

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rip 2012-2014 tumblr, you would have LOVED thunderbolts*

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How they react to your praise during sex...

UA Part 1 / UA Part 2 / Pro Heroes / Villains

How would they react to your sweet words of praise during an intimate moment?

Featuring Pro Heroes: Toshinori Yagi/All Might, Shota Aizawa/Eraserhead, Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic, Enji Todoroki/Endeavor, Keigo Takami/Hawks, Mirai Sasaki/Sir Nighteye, Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fatgum, Snipe, Shinji Nishiya/Kamui Woods

Toshinori Yagi (All Might)

Toshinori craves validation—especially post-injury, when he feels like less of a man.

He’s embarrassed to admit how much your praise affects him, but the second you whisper "You're so strong," his breath hitches.

If you tell him "You make me feel safe," his hands tremble with emotion.

The moment you moan "You’re perfect, Toshinori," he completely breaks.

Toshinori hovered above you, his breath uneven, fingers shaking as they traced over your skin.

"You feel so good," you whispered, hips rolling up against his.

His entire body tensed. "Y-you really think so?"

"You’re perfect, Toshinori," you gasped.

His hips stuttered, his forehead falling against your shoulder as a deep, wrecked groan escaped him.

"God," he muttered, his movements turning desperate, needy. "Say it again—please."

You did.

And Toshinori completely lost himself in you.

Shota Aizawa (Eraserhead)

Aizawa acts like praise doesn’t affect him, but it absolutely does.

If you say "You feel so good, Shota," he grits his teeth and thrusts deeper.

If you whisper "I love when you take control," he tightens his grip on you.

The moment you call him "my strong, perfect man," he lets out a deep, broken groan.

"You feel so good, Shota," you whispered, fingers tangled in his messy hair.

His hips stilled. His breathing grew ragged.

"You’re my strong, perfect man," you moaned.

Aizawa growled, gripping your hips tighter.

"You really think that?" His voice was low, husky.

"Yes," you gasped.

Aizawa let out a deep groan before snapping his hips forward, his restraint completely shattered.

Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic)

Hizashi is cocky and playful at first—but praise completely breaks him.

If you moan "God, you feel so good, baby," he grins but blushes hard.

The moment you say "You’re my rockstar, Hizashi," he literally whimpers.

Call him "good boy," and he completely melts.

"You feel amazing, baby," you moaned, rolling your hips against him.

Hizashi choked on his breath.

"You’re my rockstar," you whispered, trailing kisses down his throat.

His hips jerked.

"Holy shit," he gasped, his grip on your thighs tightening.

"You’re such a good boy for me, Hizashi."

A wrecked whimper slipped from his lips before he completely lost control.

Enji Todoroki (Endeavor)

Enji acts unaffected, but he desperately craves praise.

If you say "You feel so good, Enji," his jaw clenches, and his hips stutter.

The moment you whisper "I love your strength," he groans deeply and grips you tighter.

If you call him "the best," he snaps and completely loses control.

"You feel so good, Enji," you moaned.

His hands tightened around your waist.

"You’re so strong," you whispered, trailing your fingers over his broad chest.

A low growl rumbled from his throat.

"You’re the best," you gasped.

Enji’s control shattered.

His pace turned rougher, deeper, desperate— as if he had to prove himself to you right then and there.

Keigo Takami (Hawks)

Hawks loves praise—it feeds his ego and wrecks him at the same time.

If you moan "You make me feel so good, Keigo," he grins but bites his lip.

The second you say "I love the way you touch me," he groans and moves faster.

Call him "my good boy," and he completely breaks.

"You make me feel so good, Keigo," you moaned.

Hawks smirked, but his breathing grew heavy. "Yeah?"

"I love the way you touch me," you whispered.

His hips snapped forward, his smirk faltering.

"You’re my good boy," you teased.

Hawks let out a wrecked moan, his wings twitching violently, as he completely surrendered to you.

Mirai Sasaki (Sir Nighteye)

Nighteye pretends to be unaffected, but praise destroys him.

If you whisper "You’re amazing, Mirai," he lets out a low groan.

If you say "You make me feel so good," his glasses fog up.

Call him "perfect," and he completely loses his rhythm.

"You’re amazing, Mirai," you whispered, fingernails trailing down his back.

His muscles tensed.

"You make me feel so good," you moaned.

Nighteye let out a ragged breath.

"You’re perfect," you gasped.

His hips faltered, his hands gripping you tighter. "D-don’t say things like that," he muttered, completely wrecked.

Taishiro Toyomitsu (Fatgum)

Fatgum melts at praise—he loves knowing he’s making you feel good.

If you say "You feel so good, Tai," he lets out a deep groan.

If you whisper "You’re my favorite," he gets rougher.

"You feel so good, Tai," you moaned.

His arms tightened around you, his movements slowing.

"You’re my favorite," you whispered.

A deep, rumbling groan left his chest as he snapped his hips forward, overcome with emotion.

Snipe

Snipe likes control—but praise makes him falter.

If you whisper "You make me feel amazing," he breathes heavier.

If you say "You’re so strong," he tightens his grip.

"You make me feel amazing," you whispered.

Snipe groaned softly.

"You’re so strong," you moaned.

His hips stuttered, his control slipping as he snapped forward, desperate for more.

Shinji Nishiya (Kamui Woods)

Kamui tries to be gentle, but praise makes him needy.

If you whisper "You feel so good," his branches tremble.

Call him "my strong man," and he completely breaks.

"You feel so good," you moaned.

Kamui’s breath hitched.

"You’re my strong man," you whispered.

His arms coiled around your body, pulling you flush against him as he lost himself completely.

Ko-fi / Masterlist

blairxbear © 2024. do not copy, modify, or translate my work. you do not have permission to share my work outside of tumblr!

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Breaking Contract (Yandere Lobo x Reader)

Request: Request for: Yandere Lobo from DC (comics or that one movie superman man of to-morrow) with fem reader as a bounty that he won't gives up. You still couldn’t believe that he had caught you. Sure, Lobo may have been one of the most renowned bounty hunters in the galaxy, but after running from the law for so long, you had grown to think that it would always be that way. That Lobo would always be nipping at your heels as you raced from planet to planet, the two of you forever dancing dangerously with each other but never letting anything come to fruition. Even now, as the Space Hog flew through the black abyss of space, you were still desperately working on an escape plan in the back of your mind. There was no use trying to jump from Lobo’s motorcycle, you reminded yourself. Even if you did somehow get out of the shackles chaining you to the damn thing, the sec-ond that you were out of the Space Hog’s protective radius would put you at the nonexist-ent mercy of the vacuum of space. And as for trying to get Lobo off of the motorcycle so you could take it for yourself, you highly doubted that the functionally immortal biker would be very happy with you once he whistled for his motorcycle to return to him. Your only option then would be to wait until he landed. That meant that you would have to deal with both him and the Graxions who had hired him to capture you, but you didn’t see much else of a choice. And hey, maybe it would be fun. Now if only— “Hope you’re not thinking too hard back there, princess,” Lobo chortled, blindly groping behind himself for your chains and yanking you right into his broad back when he found them. “Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.” “And yet I seem to remember you hurting me plenty.” “Well, hey, a chick’s gotta expect to get a smack on her ass when she tries to run off on her man.” “Is that so?” “Course,” he grunted. “Didn’t figure when I got hired that you’d be such a little firecracker. Can’t say I’m too mad about it though.” “I know,” you sighed theatrically. “I’m just too charming to be angry with.” “That’s for fucking sure, babe.” The two of you settling down into a comfortable—or at least, a relatively comforta-ble—silence, you contented yourself with watching the stars as best as you could so long as you were being squished against the Czarnian brute. As the minutes passed, you start-ed to wonder just how much longer it would be until you reached the Graxions anyway. As far as you could tell, you were nowhere near their planet, but in thinking it over, that wasn’t too surprising. You highly doubted that they would want Lobo anywhere near their planet, and really, you could hardly blame them. “Hey, how much longer until we get there?” “Just a few more hours.” “Hours? As in plural? Just how far did the Graxions ask you to go?” Shaking his head in amusement, Lobo chuckled, “Princess, what did I say about thinking too hard? I’m not taking you to the fucking Graxions. I’m taking you home.” “My home?” “It’ll be your home once we get there. You’re gonna love it, I got the place all ready for you.” “You mean you’re taking me to your home?” you asked. “You can’t!” Finally starting to feel suffocated in the vacuum of space, you vaguely wondered if you should try jump-ing from the motorcycle after all. “Why the hell not?” “Well—well what about your contract?” “Now that’s a funny fucking story,” he said, twisting around to grin wildly at you. “I was able to uh, convince, this guy to make a counter contract for even more money to just ignore the Graxions. Sure, I convinced him by pointing my gun in his face, but that counts. So now I’m all in the clear. It’s cute for you to worry about me though. The Main Man’s got you now, so you can just relax and let me take care of things.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you turned your eyes up towards the stars, wishing that you were up there with them. You couldn’t believe what you had gotten sucked into here. In all of the time that

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All The Stars~ PT.3

BAKUGOU X SECRET ADMIRER PT.3

A/N: I love this part n I love writing for y'all, you guys are so sweet. I know I said this part would come out a few weeks ago, but my kitten contacted parvo virus. I hope you guys understand :<

P.S: I'd like to add that one of the next parts will have slightly suggestive themes, nothing too descriptive.

ALL THE STARS PT.1 | ALL THE STARS PT.4

You groaned, jolting awake from what you thought was a short nap. The sun was blazing, hot on your skin now. Your head and throat throbbed- you were dehydrated and miserable. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you took in your surroundings.

Bakugou shut the door to his dorm so hard the walls shook. His muscular back rested against the wooden door. He closed his eyes, panting. The book in his hands felt like concrete, heavy and cold. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself down. Opening the book, he took in the pages- pages and pages of sketches of himself sitting idly in class. He had to admit, you had some real talent there. He looked so calm, taking notes while resting his chin on his palm.

Meanwhile, you pulled your knees towards yourself, taking a minute to recall the past few hours. Eyes widening, you frantically searched around as you remembered you had set your sketchbook down- it would be no short of a disaster if anyone opened that book. Maybe it wasn't THAT great of an idea to carry said book out of your dorm room. Shit. Bakugou pulled Kirishima into his dorm room, his heart beating in his temples now. "Woah, I didn't think L/N would be the one who was putting those gifts in your locker! I can't say I'm surprised though, you guys are so thoughtful with each other." Kirishima nodded. "Thoughtful with wHO, I can't fuckin stand her. She's so annoying and dumb and stupid, almost stupider than Deku." Bakugou shouted, hands on his cheeks.

"Yeah, totes bro." Kirishima deadpanned, patting Bakugou's back. "So, when're ya asking her out? There are a couple good movies in the theatre or that new cafe down the street... We should ask Denki, he looks like the kinda dude to have this kinda experience", Kirishima rambled on and on, which all went over the blond's head, too busy calming the thumping in his chest, his head steaming.

Shaking his head, Bakugou took a deep breath in. "Fuck that, We have training at Ground Beta in half an hour. We'd better start heading over and warming up." Bakugou said, ushering Kirishima out of his room. Closing the door shut, He put his forehead to the cool wood at the thought of facing you at the Ground- knowing you, you must be having a panic attack at the mere thought of your sketchbook being missing- fuck- now that he thought of it, that was fucking selfish of him to do. He wondered if he could slip it into your dorm room while you were on the ground- he could fake an injury or a fever or something, he'd just have to convince Aizawa Sensei. A tough task in itself.

☾

You stood next to Uraraka at Ground Beta. You shifted your weight from one foot to another as your fingers fiddled with your hair, still anxious over how you couldn't find your sketchbook this morning. Bakugou was stretching with the boys in some distance, taking note of how you couldn't hide how anxious you were. Almost in tears, you thought about the possible scenarios. What if someone had taken your book? What if they'd shown Bakugou? What if they'd leaked it all around UA? Your hero career was as good as over.

Aizawa Sensei walked onto the ground, patting your back as he took notice of how down you were. Aizawa Sensei started reading off the pairings for training. You shook your head, taking in deep breaths while steadying yourself to get your head in the game. UA wasn't for the weak and you weren't going to let something as small as this drag you down- they were just sketches and you could always claim the book wasn't yours, un-named as the book was.

"YN/LN and Bakugou Katsuki, please make your way to the centre of Ground Beta."

You physically flinched as you grimaced at the pairing. Uraraka gave you a small push, urging you to step forward. Aizawa Sensei gave you the side eye, wondering what kind of argument you and Bakugou had again, prompting this kind of reaction from you. Little did he know, huh?

TAGLIST: @lovra974 Thanks so much for keeping up with the series~

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“Enjoy what you like..” they say

“Except THAT or THIS thing, that’s immoral and wrong.” They say immediately after

“is this character good or bad” “is this ship unproblematic or not” “is this arc deserving of redemption or not” girl…

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I can’t bring myself to unfollow those amazing writing blogs, knowing damn well they haven’t been active in YEARS

Maybe they’ll come back.. 🥲

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The halls of U.A. were bustling with students, all eager to finish the day and head home. You walked at a brisk pace, mentally reviewing the notes from your last class, when a familiar voice called out to you from behind.

"Hey! Wait up!"

You barely had time to turn around before a pair of strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a warm, tight hug. It was Mirio Togata, of course. Who else would it be? His hugs were always so sudden, yet they never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“Mirio!” You managed to gasp, trying to calm your racing heart. His broad chest pressed against you, his hands resting comfortably on your back as he held you close. The warmth of his body seeped through your clothes, sending a wave of heat rushing to your cheeks.

"Sorry," he laughed, finally releasing you, his hand lingering on your shoulder. "I saw you walking so fast and had to catch up."

You offered him a shaky smile, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered you were. "No worries, I was just trying to get to the dorms."

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, his usual cheerful grin lighting up his face. Without waiting for an answer, he slung his arm around your shoulders, steering you in the direction of the dorms.

You nodded, trying to focus on anything but the weight of his arm draped so casually around you. It wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this- hugs, pats on the back, holding your hand when you were crossing the street. These gestures were all second nature to Mirio, so casual and friendly that he probably didn’t even realize how they affected you. But each touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, leaving you flustered and struggling to keep your composure.

As you walked, he chatted about his day, recounting some hilarious incident with Tamaki during training. His voice was bright and full of life, and you couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. But your thoughts kept drifting back to the warmth of his arm, the way his fingers absentmindedly played with a strand of your hair as he spoke.

It was driving you insane- in a good way, of course. Every touch, every brush of his fingers, made your heart flutter. And the worst part? He seemed completely oblivious to the effect he had on you. Mirio was just being himself, warm and affectionate as always, never noticing how your pulse quickened or how your face heated up every time he got too close.

You reached the dorms sooner than you expected, and Mirio finally let go of your shoulders, much to your simultaneous relief and disappointment. You paused by the entrance, trying to steady your breath.

"Thanks for walking with me," you said, hoping your voice didn’t betray how flustered you felt.

"Anytime!" He gave you one of his signature grins, then ruffled your hair affectionately. "See you at dinner?"

"Yeah, see you then," you stammered, trying to ignore the way your heart was hammering in your chest.

As Mirio turned to leave, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Your head was spinning, a mixture of giddiness and frustration bubbling inside you. How could he be so touchy, so close, and not see what it did to you?

But then again, this was Mirio. He was always warm, always kind. It was just who he was. And you couldn’t deny that, despite the way it drove you crazy, you didn’t really want him to stop.

masterlist

a/n why is he literally my husband guys, like we’re actually married no joke

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Big beefy himbos are mentally incapable of understanding how huge their cocks are compared to your little holes and I think that's beautiful

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// WHAT THEY JERKIN TO?

quick hcs of what porn bnha men watch / +18 mdni

includes: dabi, tomura, keigo, aizawa, and mirio beneath the cut

dabi 

watches porn with the same amount of shame as one does watching the news. very unashamed and explorative with the shit he consumes: bondage, gangbang, cucking, free use, role play, but what he loves most is amateur twitter videos posted by horny perverts because it’s all from lust instead of money

constantly on the edge of unveiling his own age gap kink to himself… always finds himself clicking videos of much older leads touching on younger ingenues but has not yet had a realization on it

tomura 

average hentai/eroge enjoyer

jerks it to everything EXCEPT casual porn he needs it crazy style and obscure. degrees of lewdity, cloud meadow, xvideos gameplay of pixelated girls fighting off zombies and deranged men just to get violated

heroines defeated and at the clutches of wild masked villains also

on the times he does consume actual people porn, he very much likes bimbo-ism in his leading ladies. all the weight that should be in their brains gone down to their tits with pouty red lips

keigo 

PERVERT

loooooves surprise cumshot vids but cannot admit it bc the kind he likes isn’t exactly. kosher�� he likes the kind where women are sunbathing or reading or watching tv when some vile, gross man runs up splatters all over her face and hair

gloryholes also get him hot and bothered: sloppy sluts drooling on anonymous cock always get a click from him

men on men when outside of a gloryhole has to be one big, buff dude manhandling a smaller guy (no it’s not related to his admiration of endeavor, no he will not take anymore questions) 

aizawa 

sicko watches girl on girl every business week and cannot explain it, he just keeps coming back. straps, tribbing, cunnilingus, double dildos

doesn’t watch a lot of crazy outside of that, he finds the basic amateur stuff to be more than enough. all he wants is that genuine heat, to really hear the wet schlicks of every thrust

every now and again he will treat himself to something public. a little train groping or movie theater romp if he’s extra pent up

mirio 

the craziest he’s gone is step-son/step-mom and only the kind done by big studios with ads in the middle of the video

very much still kind of afraid to explore… he needs someone to hold his hand and show him size diff kinks, please

watches and rewinds creampies -sometimes is shameless enough to time out his orgasm

also likes bigger partners getting dommed by their smaller counterparts - teasing and edging and making little tears go down their flushed cheeks (yes it’s because he wants someone to do that to him)

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The First Time || Dante Sparda ||

A/n: Part two of Dante fingering the reader but now you two fuck!

Warnings: p in v , virginity loss , cream pie

Dante carried you to the bedroom like you weighed nothing, arms strong and steady. The adrenaline of earlier had faded, leaving behind a pulsing, aching desire that settled deep in your belly. Your thighs still trembled from your climax, and yet you clung to him, craving more.

You could practically feel your heart pounding rapidly in your chest. Nibbling your bottom lip, you clung to the man looking up at him as he laid you down on the bed—his bed—soft sheets brushing your skin as he hovered over you, eyes scanning every inch of your face.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he murmured, fingers brushing your cheek.

You nodded. Nervous, breathless, but aching to be touched again.

Aching for him

He kissed you slowly—deep, but unhurried. No rush now. Just the two of you in the quiet dark, the world outside silenced for once.

But when his hands slipped down to your waist, fingers hooking into your panties, you froze.

He noticed it instantly. That tiny flinch. The small intact of your breath.

“Hey,” he whispered against your lips. “Talk to me.”

You hesitated, then barely breathed the words, “I’ve… never done this before.” The words slipped out and suddenly you regretted it because why would he ever want a virgin?

His body stilled above you. His expression didn’t shift—no mockery, no surprise. Just something deeper in his eyes. Gentler. Protective.

“You mean—” he started.

You nodded quickly. “Y-Yeah. I’m a virgin.”

There was a long pause. His thumb gently stroked your hip, grounding you.

“You should’ve told me,” he said softly, voice low and sincere.

“I didn’t want you to stop...I just…” Your voice trailing off for a moment.

That made him smile. Slow. Dangerous. But full of something almost sweet.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your throat, “I’m not stopping. But I am going to take my damn time with you.”

You whimpered as he kissed lower, lips tracing a path between your breasts, down your stomach, slow enough to make your skin burn.

“No rushing,” he murmured, settling between your thighs, his breath hot against your inner thigh. “No pain. No fear. Just you, melting for me.”

He removed your panties with reverence, like they were delicate silk. Then he just looked at you, lips parted, gaze dark and awed.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he said, dragging a knuckle slowly down your slit, making you arch into his touch.

“D-Dante…”

“Shhh.” His fingers were back—one at first, rubbing slow circles over your clit. Then slipping down to tease your entrance. He didn’t even try to push inside yet—just circled, coaxed, explored. “I’m gonna stretch you nice and slow, baby. Gotta make sure you’re ready to take all of me.”

You moaned, legs falling open further for him. Your body finally relaxing as you bucked your hips against his fingers.

His finger dipped in—just the tip. Then back out. Then a little deeper. Patient. Gentle. Torturous.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned. “So warm. Your body’s gonna drive me fucking insane.”

You whimpered, hips lifting to chase his finger.

“I want you,” you breathed.

He looked up, eyes heavy-lidded and intense. “You have me. But I’m not just gonna fuck you, sweetheart.”

He crawled back up, kissing your neck, your jaw, brushing his cock—hard and hot—against your thigh.

“I’m going to make love to you. Slow. Deep. Until you forget you were ever untouched.”

And with one hand laced through yours and the other guiding himself to your entrance, he watched you carefully.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he murmured, lips brushing yours.

Your legs were already wrapped around his waist, his tip nudging against your entrance, teasing. Every nerve in your body was lit up like fire under his touch.

“Yes,” you whispered. “I want you.”

“Then you’ve got me,” he said, voice low and rough. “All of me.”

He pushed in slow—so slow you could feel every inch of him, stretching you open with a delicious ache. Your breath caught, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as he eased deeper. He paused halfway in, his forehead resting against yours.

“You okay?” he asked, voice strained.

You nodded, already trembling around him. “It just… it’s a lot.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, baby. I’m not small.”

You laughed breathlessly through the sting. He kissed you, a deep kiss to swallow the small gasp and then moved he again—sliding deeper, inch by inch, until his hips met yours. You gasped, full to the brim, the stretch sharp but slowly melting into pressure, pleasure, him.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “Taking me so damn good.”

He didn’t move yet. Just stayed there, buried inside you, his hand brushing your cheek, his lips kissing the corner of your mouth. Letting your body adjust. Letting you feel him.

Then he pulled back, just slightly, and thrust in again—slow, smooth, grinding against your walls.

Your moan was soft, involuntary. Your thighs squeezed around his waist.

“That feel good, baby?” he whispered.

You nodded, gasping. “Y-Yeah. So full…”

He kissed you again, deeper this time. His thrusts stayed slow, measured, like he had all the time in the world. He hit spots you didn’t even know existed, and every time he rolled his hips just right, your body shivered under him.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he praised, voice all gravel and heat. “So tight, so wet. Like your body was made for mine.”

Your nails dragged down his back, and he groaned—like he loved the way you clung to him, overwhelmed.

“Dante, I—I think I’m close,” you gasped, the heat inside you coiling fast.

“Let go for me,” he murmured, rocking into you. “Come while I’m deep inside you, baby. I want to feel it.”

His thumb brushed your clit at the same time, and your body shattered—back arching, mouth falling open as your orgasm rushed through you like a wave. You clenched around him, and he swore, hips faltering.

“Fuck, that’s it—god, you feel so fucking good—”

He thrust deeper, faster now, chasing his own high. Still controlled. Still gentle. But with that primal edge.

“I’m gonna fill you up,” he growled. “Gonna claim this sweet little pussy.”

You moaned helplessly, still riding the aftershocks, and with one final thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and came with a low, broken groan—his warmth spilling into you, his body collapsing against yours.

For a long time, neither of you moved. You just lay there, wrapped around him, completely full and completely his.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were soft. Tender.

“You okay, baby?” he whispered, brushing hair from your face.

You smiled, dazed, and nodded. “More than okay.”

He kissed your forehead. “Next time,” he said, smirking again, “you’re riding me.”

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Good Girl || Dante Sparda ||

A/n: Let me know if ya'll want a second part with actual smut.

Tag List:

@scribbles-main-blog

The air reeked of gunpowder and demon blood. You were still trembling from the chaos—clutching your arms around yourself as you sat stiffly on the dusty couch in Dante’s office. He had saved you, again. No big deal to him. Another night. Another demon. Another close call.

You flinched as he kicked the door shut behind him.

“Relax,” he said, voice gravelly and low as he tossed Ebony and Ivory on the desk, cracking his neck. “You’re safe now, sweetheart.”

Your eyes followed the way his coat hung off his shoulders, the way blood streaked across his exposed chest. You swallowed hard and looked down, cheeks burning. Why did he have to be so… like that?

He walked over, boots heavy against the wood floor, and knelt in front of you. “You alright?” he asked, more gentle this time. His gloved hand reached up, brushing your hair from your face.

You nodded, though your heart pounded louder than any demon’s roar.

“You’ve got that look again,” he said, cocking his head with a smirk. “Like I’m gonna eat you alive.”

Your breath hitched. His hand hadn’t left your cheek.

“Dante…” you whispered, but there was no strength behind it. Just heat. Nervous heat pooling low in your stomach.

“You like this, don’t you?” he murmured, eyes fixed on your lips. “Watching me tear through monsters, then act all shy like you’re not soaking through those panties.”

You gasped, face burning hotter than hellfire, but your thighs instinctively pressed together.

He caught that. Of course he did.

“Oh, baby…” he chuckled darkly, lips brushing your ear. “You’re not innocent. You’re just aching for someone to ruin you properly.”

You whimpered as he pushed you gently back onto the couch, hovering over you—his hand sliding up your skirt, calloused fingers ghosting over your inner thigh.

“Say the word,” he murmured. “Say you want it.”

“I… I want it,” you breathed, eyes wide, voice trembling.

Dante grinned like a devil, pulling your panties aside. “Then you’re getting it.”

One finger slid between your folds, slow and deliberate. “Shit… You’re dripping.”

Your back arched, a moan escaping your lips before you could stop it. His thumb brushed your clit, sending sparks through your whole body.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growled, adding a second finger, pumping into you slowly, then faster—filling the room with the obscene wet sounds of your need. “Such a sweet little thing, falling apart just from my fingers…”

Your hands gripped his shirt, hips rocking against his hand as he curled his fingers just right—finding that spot that made you cry out.

“Let go for me,” he said, voice a low command, lips grazing your neck. “Come on my fingers. Don’t hold back.”

And you didn’t. Your body shattered beneath him, writhing against his touch as your orgasm ripped through you—his name a breathless chant on your lips.

He pulled back slowly, fingers glistening, eyes dark.

“Next time,” he murmured, licking them clean, “I’m not stopping at fingers.”

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Hello! Can you make some yandere head canons for white rabbit in the dmc netflix? (There's a fine man beneath that rabbit mask hehe🤭)

He is fine with and without the mask.

Pairing: The White Rabbit x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, yandere behavior, choking, threats, possessiveness, rough kissing, marking, being protective

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I was kind of disappointed that he was a human in a furry mask. But still good looking underneath.

Yandere!White Rabbit always has an arm possessively wrapped around your hip and whenever he can he steals a kiss from you, lifting his mask to feel the warmth of your lips on his before pulling down the mask again

Yandere!White Rabbit holds you as his precious treasure, the most precious possession he has and that he must protect at any cost, even at the cost of lives

Yandere!White Rabbit teaches you everything he knows about survival and his experiments just in case something happens to him

Yandere!White Rabbit can lose his temper even around you, he hurt you in the past, leaving fingermarks around your throat when he choked you out of frustrating since you just weren't listening to him and all he wants is to keep you safe

Yandere!White Rabbit stalked you for a while before starting to date you, he needed to make sure you were the right woman for him

Yandere!White Rabbit wanted to be a better man because of you, he wanted to be a man worthy of the love of a woman like you and often thought he couldn't fulfil those expectations

Yandere!White Rabbit feels entitled to your kisses and takes them without asking, bruising your lips, biting them to the point of bleeding and then kissing them better in a faux apology

Yandere!White Rabbit puts your safety before anyone else including his own and will kill even his own allies if he feels you're being threatened in any way

Yandere!White Rabbit grins when he sees the marks left behind by his hands and mouth and teeth, those need to be on full display in both worlds, everyone should know you're not free to look at

Yandere!White Rabbit lets his guard down around you but can put it back up just as easily, his voice low and threatening as he asks you not to leave him because if you did you might break what's left of his heart and sanity

Dividers by: @/aquazero

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All I’m saying is, if you have a such a problem with how ppl are writing characters terminology, or sick of how writers on here write the reader as a quote, “black women stereotypes” (which is odd but that’s not my main topic of discussion), be the change you want to see in the world or stfu.

Idk what be possessing y’all to yap but not write. Like get in Google docs and write what you feel would be correct. Y’all be trynna dog out nggas and get them back in their shell every damn day even though this app supposed to be the outlet.

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𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 || 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚 ||

A/n: Feral Dante ( with a touch of him being a soft husband )

The twins were finally asleep.

The shop was quiet again — not from silence, but from peace. That rare, golden kind of calm that only came at 2 a.m. when baby bottles were rinsed, lullabies were hummed off-key, and Dante had checked the perimeter twice just to make sure nothing even thought about coming near his family.

You were curled up on the bed in the back, skin bare beneath the soft blanket, warm from the bath, belly soft and healed, hips fuller, body changed by motherhood and absolutely perfect to him.

Dante stood at the foot of the bed, watching you.

Not as a man.

As something deeper.

Something devil.

His form shimmered in the dark — red and black and power incarnate. Wings half-unfurled, eyes glowing low like embers, chest heaving with quiet restraint. His claws flexed at his sides, aching to touch. To take. To feel you again.

“You sure?” he asked, voice distorted — gravel-smooth and dark like velvet wrapped in fire. “I won’t be able to hold back. Not like this.”

You lifted your gaze to him, heart pounding, thighs already pressing together.

“I don’t want you to hold back.”

The second the words left your lips, he moved.

One blink — and he was on the bed, over you, heat rolling off him like a stormfront. His hands braced on either side of your head, claws sinking into the mattress, wings sheltering you in shadow. But when he leaned down — lips brushing your jaw — his touch was reverent.

“You’re still mine,” he growled, voice low and shaking. “Even after all this. Especially after this.”

You arched up, pressing your mouth to his, and he groaned — deep and animal — before kissing you with a hunger that bordered on worship. His fangs grazed your lips, but he didn’t bite. Not yet. He kissed down your throat, over your collarbone, down your belly — pausing there, his palm resting flat.

“This body gave me everything,” he whispered. “Let me give it back.”

Then he was between your legs — not gentle, but slow, tongue dragging up your folds like he was starving. The ridges of his demonic form only added to the sensation, rough and overwhelming. You cried out, hips bucking, thighs clamping around his head, but he just growled and pushed you open wider.

“Let me hear you,” he snarled. “I want every sound.”

By the time he slid into you, you were already wrecked — wet, open, throbbing for him. His cock was thick, barely human, stretching you wide as he eased in with an almost trembling control.

“Fuck,” he rasped, shuddering. “You’re still so tight…”

You could barely breathe. “Please, Dante—just—”

He snapped his hips forward and bottomed out, both of you gasping at the sudden fullness. His wings stretched above you, clawed hands gripping your thighs, and he set a rhythm — deep, slow, devastating.

Every thrust hit something sacred, like he was reaching into your soul. His chest pressed to yours, sweat slick between you, and when he kissed you again, it was soft.

“You gave me a family,” he whispered into your mouth. “Now let me remind you who you belong to.”

He sped up.

The room filled with the sound of skin on skin, of growls and whimpers, of whispered I love you’s tangled with snarled claims. He gripped your hips, lifting you, angling deeper, and you screamed when he hit that spot only he could ever reach.

His voice broke. “Gonna cum inside you. Fill you again. Not to breed this time — just to stay.”

You nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks from how full, how loved, how completely his you felt.

“Do it,” you begged. “Mark me. Claim me again.”

And he did.

With one final thrust, he roared into your neck, fangs sinking in, knot swelling just enough to keep him locked inside as he came — deep and endless, cock twitching as he poured everything he had into you.

You clung to him, shaking, breathless, ruined in the best way.

And as he held you there — still joined, still trembling — he whispered against your skin, softer than he ever had before:

“You’re not just the mother of my kids. You’re my home.”

The only sound was your breathing.Still shaky. Still shallow.

But slowing.

Your heart retuning to its normal rate as you held a blissful daze on your face.

Dante hadn’t moved — not more than he had to. His cock was still nestled deep inside you, softened now, but the warmth of his release still cradled inside your body, claimed. His wings curled protectively around the both of you, sheltering the room like a cathedral of shadows and breath.

You were laid out beneath him, bare and boneless, your fingers lightly trailing the thick ridges of his demon spine, tracing the softest touches down his back.

He was heavy on you. Not crushing. Not uncomfortable. Just present. Solid. Real.

And when he finally lifted his head, his eyes weren’t glowing anymore — not in the violent, deadly way.

They were glowing with something else.

Devotion.

“You okay?” he asked, voice gravel-deep and husky, just above a whisper.

You nodded, lips brushing the curve of his jaw. “More than okay.”

He leaned down and kissed you again — slow and reverent, tasting you like you were something sacred. His fangs barely grazed your bottom lip this time, gentle now, no bite in them.

Just want.

Need.

Love.

You ran a hand through his silver-white hair, pushing damp strands back from his face. “You didn’t have to hold back that much.”

He let out a soft, huffed laugh, resting his forehead against yours.

“That was me holding back.”

You giggled sleepily and he smiled, eyes closing for a moment, as if savoring the weight of you beneath him, the feel of your skin against his, your heartbeat syncing with his. "Maybe next time you can really let go:" you teased.

A soft but playful growl escaped his lips as he gave your neck a small nip“I missed you,” he murmured after a pause. “Not just your body. You. Like this. Us.”

You pressed your hand to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm beneath your palm. “I missed this too.”

He slowly pulled out of you with care, kissing the spot just below your ear when you gasped at the sensation. Then, without a word, he rolled onto his side and pulled you with him — your back against his chest, his arms circling your waist, hand resting instinctively over your lower belly again, like some part of him still couldn’t stop guarding you.

Even now.Even after everything.

You tangled your fingers with his. “Still protective?”

“Always,” he murmured into your hair. “It’s not about the babies. It’s about you. You’re everything.”

You felt his lips brush your temple, then your shoulder, then the spot he’d bitten earlier — now just a tender mark, fading.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said softly. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving you’re right to.”

You sighed, safe and full, wrapped in warmth and wings and the slow, steady heartbeat of the devil you’d made a home with.

And long after sleep began to pull at your limbs, you heard his voice again — low, ragged, honest.

“I’d give up"

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Cherish those fic writers and blogs that are currently still active and posting.

I’ve been on this hellsite since 2016 and I’m always saddened to see another user deactivate so suddenly.

They have their reasons for leaving and opting out tumblr. Sometimes it can be overwhelming or stressful to maintain the blog. But regardless, just cherish them while they’re still here.

Send in anon message, comment on their recent post. Just say that you like their work. Nothing too crazy. A simple ask that says: “I love your works/writing” means the world to writers.

Fanfiction is the backbone of tumblr right beside cat posting and gif sets, I truly believe that. Many fandoms go dead without fanfiction at the pulse. It goes hand in hand (at least in my opinion)

So give some love to your favorite writer if you can.

💞💞💞