#Big jobs too but sometimes he just likes taking whatever catches his eye

[cxpperhead]

🍍& 🍋

Random Headcanons

🍍 - What is an event that seemed of minor consequence to them when it occurred, but ended up impacting their life/development in a bigger way?

The first time he stole something non-essential. Copperhead had stolen many times before, usually necessities like food or articles of clothing but the more he continued taking what wasn't his, the bigger the thrill it became. Shoplifting graduated to pickpocketing, then full-on breaking and entering with Copperhead honing his skills over the years to take whatever caught his eye. At that point it was more about the challenge than actual need, since he was living as a drifter and could only carry around the bare essentials. His humble beginnings as a petty thief left him craving greater challenges to feel that rush of adrenaline once more. Murder may slake the dark thirst brewing within but thieving was always a personal pleasure, and a great side business when good assassination contracts are far and few in-between.

🍋 - Is there anything special about their diet, and how do they manage it? If they were to gain/lose a lot of weight suddenly, how would they react and adjust?

As a Serpent Metahuman, Copperhead doesn't require frequent meals. In fact he prefers eating only a few times a week, preferably small meals that are quick and easy to digest. A full belly makes for a slow snake so Copperhead avoids consuming large amounts of food in one go, finding he grows too sluggish on the occasion his greed gets the better of him. He can subsist entirely on meat but Copperhead likes fish and fruit too, having a highly refined palate what with his sensitive tongue. Shellfish like crab and lobster is something he goes wild for but he always tries to avoid gorging no matter how tempting a spread is. Contrary to popular belief, he does not eat rats.

[ceilidho]

prompt: construction worker ghost and his elementary school teacher neighbour who made the poor decision to start feeding him (nsfw, 2k) [based on this old ask] [on ao3 here]

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They say not to feed wild animals. 

It makes them grow soft, lazy. Alters their behaviour. Takes an animal previously capable of finding its own food dependent on humans for sustenance. Makes them lose their natural fear of humans and nearly always results in an increase in human-wildlife conflicts as they start to seek out people. It’s a known fact. You can’t go to a park without seeing it plastered on posters in the bathroom and on the sides of the vending machines under the gazebos where you purchase your post-hike iced tea and veggie roll to eat on a nearby bench. 

You know this. So you really don’t know what possessed you to leave a cooler full of sandwiches on your neighbour’s doormat before turning in for the night. 

He wakes up preternaturally early and leaves every morning around four-thirty or five o’clock on the dot. Sometimes in the fog of sleep, you wake to hear the door to the apartment beside yours crack open and slam shut, and then the sound of lumbering footsteps down the hall towards the staircase before that door opens and slams shut too. 

He never comes home before four o’clock at the earliest. That’s around when you come home from work as well, meaning that you sometimes catch him at the door, him covered in grime and reeking of old sweat while you come flouncing down the hall in whatever colourful dress you’d donned that morning, inevitably paint-splattered by the end of the day. Always something appropriate to wear at an elementary school but colourful enough to keep the kids’ eyes and attention on you. 

You’ve caught his name in half-whispered conversations with the property manager, but aside from that, all you know about Simon Riley is that he works in construction. He certainly looks the part: big, calloused hands with blunt, dirt-caked nails and cut up fingers, knuckles always swollen and thick. Body all strength and brawn. Hard hat tucked under his armpit and decorated with countless stickers from old job sites, the same way his forearm is covered in tattoos. 

You’ve even passed by his current job site once or twice—some new condo complex going up by the canal that’s forced you and hundreds of other commuters to leave an extra thirty minutes early to account for the road closures. You pointedly don’t bring that up in conversation though. That would just be rude. 

At least it would be something to talk about though.

It’s not like the two of you talk. You’re not close by any means. Though you moved in a few months ago, you haven’t had much luck mustering up the confidence to squeak out more than a hi to him in passing. When he grunts back something approximating a hello, it’s all you can do not to break your key in the lock when you hurry into your apartment and slam the door shut behind you, heart beating frantically in your chest. 

It’s humiliating. You’re a grown woman and you’ve talked to plenty of men before. You’ve dated plenty of men before. Just because this one speaks in monosyllables and stares at you with an intensity that makes your stomach churn and your palms grow sweaty doesn’t change anything. Just because this one is built like a redwood with wrists thick enough that you’d need both hands to wrap around doesn’t make him any different than any other person.

And yet, when Simon asks you for your name on a rainy June afternoon after you’ve come in after him for a change only to find him sifting through letters at the mailbox, you garble out something that sounds nothing like your name before scurrying up the stairs to your flat.

It’s humiliating. It’s humid outside and your dress is sticking to all the wrong places (namely, your nipples and the inside of your thighs when the skirt swishes between your legs with each stride) and now you’ve made an ass of yourself in front of the only hot guy in your building. There are serial arsonists with more charm than you. 

So maybe the sandwiches are an apology letter or an olive branch. Or maybe it just makes your heart race to think of Simon opening up the cooler and finding four wax paper-wrapped sandwiches tucked neatly over ice packs. 

All you know is that when you step out of your apartment the next morning, the cooler is empty on your doormat, the lid propped open. He must have taken them with him. 

You smile. A job well done. Apology served fresh, with cucumber slices in the middle. 

The problem starts when you don’t leave him another cooler full of sandwiches on his doormat the next day. 

You didn’t consider that he might think you’d make it a habit. Perhaps that’s partially on you for not leaving a note on the cooler the first time to explain that it was just a one-off; just a way to apologize for being less than chipper around him. But instead of shrugging it off, you come home after a long day to find him standing right outside your apartment, arms crossed over his chest, thick biceps straining against his sweat-stained shirt. 

“Open the door,” Simon commands, nostrils flaring as he glares down at you. He jerks his head towards your door when you just frown, not following. “Been starving here waiting for you to show up.”

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. You’re at a loss for words, never mind that your whole job involves talking. He leaves you speechless though. 

Simon doesn’t move when you step close enough to unlock the door. You try to keep your body angled away so as not to brush up against him, but it’s inevitable. He doesn’t move when the door opens either, forcing you to squeeze by him. 

He goes straight to the kitchen and drags a chair out, letting it scrape across the floor like men always do before taking a seat. You follow after him nervously, apprehensive at having a man in your space. Not just a man, but Simon Riley. It feels sacrilege—not like he has no right being in your space, but you can’t imagine him here, sitting at your tiny dining room table like he comes over for dinner every Sunday. 

When he catches you standing under the archway to the kitchen just staring at him, he barks, “Well?”

That has you scurrying over to the fridge to pull out the cold cuts and pickled red onions. There’s a loaf of bread already on the counter, the bag twisted and tucked underneath because you had to leave in a rush this morning. You don’t know half of what you pile on the sandwiches, but whatever you serve him must satisfy him because Simon digs in with gusto, finishing the plate off in only a few bites while you wash the cutlery in the sink. You watch him out of the corner of your eye the whole while.

He leaves not too long after that, only a light warning for you to not miss tomorrow’s lunch before heading back over to his own apartment. You don’t even get a word in edgewise. 

It becomes something of a routine after that and not one you have any control over. Every night before bed, you leave him a cooler full of sandwiches and other things like cut up fruit or slices of cheese on his doormat, and every afternoon you rock up to him waiting on your doorstep, demanding to be let in. 

He takes to giving you a wet kiss before he leaves, all tongue and his fingers curled around the nape of your neck, holding you in place. When you try to cover his mouth with your hand, he nips at your fingers until you move them and let him slip you some tongue. 

The day you make him a casserole for supper, he bends you over the back of your couch and eats you out. Simon eats like a man starving, glutting himself on the wetness between your legs, licking even over the furl of your asshole and chuckling under his breath when you squeal and flail, your toes just brushing against the floor. 

In the aftermath, you sit panting in his lap while he eats. He gets up only briefly to get the bowl of strawberries and cream you left chilling in the fridge before lifting you up and putting you right back in his lap. You stare bleary-eyed when he holds a finger covered in cream up to your lips.

“Clean me up, pet,” he says, then watches you with half-lidded eyes while you lick his finger clean. 

He makes you suck his fingers too, to keep things even. He does it when you’re angled half off the bed, thick digits stuffed down your throat until your eyes leak big, fat tears that he licks away, hungry for those too. The man is always hungry, always keen to fill his belly. 

The arrangement continues on long enough to become normal, even routine. Simon shows up at your door every day after work waiting to be fed, and then makes you come a couple times before he leaves, a little thank you to repay you for the food. He never really says all that much when he comes around, not a conversationalist of a man. His preference is to eat, fuck, and leave, which you’re happy to accommodate, still too tongue-tied yourself to broach a real conversation. 

That’s all before he starts helping himself to your bed for a quick nap after a big supper. Then for naps that turn into a full night’s sleep, snoring like a chainsaw under the covers with you tucked under his arm, naked breasts pressed against his side, keeping you awake most of the night until you pass out somewhere around one A.M. 

Just as you suspected, Simon gets up at around four or five to be at the jobsite on time, but at your place, he gets up a bit earlier to help himself to breakfast. He doesn't even bother waking you up, just turns you over onto your tummy and spreads your legs before sinking his dick into where you're still stretched out from the night before. If you wake up or squirm, he just leans down and murmurs, “S'alright, pet…just need a pick me up before work. Go back to sleep, you’re okay,” and ruts between your thighs until he comes inside you and leaves you all wet in bed with one last messy kiss to your temple. 

The door slams shut on his way out. 

Because you feed him, he keeps coming back. The workday passes in a blur: attendance, a spelling test, recess, maths in the afternoon, and then you’re driving home in the same daze that has you slamming on the brakes before rear ending an old woman who stopped two cars behind the truck at the redlight ahead. 

You’re home earlier than him for a change, so you unlock the door quickly while there’s still a chance to avoid him. No such luck. When Simon turns up, he pounds on the door until you let him in. And you do. 

It’s a wonder you haven’t come apart at the seams, horny and pent up after this morning. You were too sleepy to come after all, rode hard and put away wet. Still, you flit nervously around the apartment, looking everywhere but at him. 

He always smells rich after working all day in the sun, like sweat and dirt. It's not a particularly nice smell, but it still kind of gets you going. He goes for a shower and then collapses on the couch after, beckoning you over to you crawl into his lap and grind yourself on his thigh because he knows of course. Simon can probably smell it on you, the ache. He shushes you when you whine about it, big hands fitting around your hips and pressing you down until your clit rubs deliciously against the muscle of his thigh and your head goes cloudy, cheek mushed against the pillow of his chest. 

When you come, Simon tips your chin up with his knuckle and murmurs, “Knickers off, love. Haven’t got my fill.”

He feeds you your own slick from his fingers when he kneels on the floor in front of the couch, your legs draped over his shoulders. Your fingers scratch helplessly over shorn blond hair, buzzed almost to the scalp. It’s prickly under your fingertips. 

Simon’s a messy eater. Your slick dribbles down his lips and glistens on his chin. It makes the blood roar under your skin, feverishly hot. 

“Please, Simon,” you whine, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “It hurts.”

You feel his lips quirk up against the folds of your pussy, the flat of his tongue running up the seam and flicking over your clit. He chuckles when your hips jerk. “Greedy aren’t you, pet? Didn’t even say thank you for getting on my knees.”

“You didn’t make me come!”

His voice borders on mocking when he coos, “Poor little thing. It’s gonna be a lot longer ‘til she gets to come if you don’t say thank you.”

Your brain goes staticy, fingers twitching on his scalp. His words echo back in your head. It’s rubbish, is what it is. All this time and he’s never said thank you once for the countless meals you’ve fed him. Indignation bubbles up in you, rising to the surface like fat on the cream, and you raise a hand to rub the tears from your eyes, a harsh rebuke on the tip of your tongue.

The protest dies on your lips when he meets your gaze. It’s hungrier than anything you’ve ever seen. Whatever animal lives under his skin stares back at you with black eyes, drool leaking from its jowls. It’s mindless, intent only on slaking its hunger. Filling its empty belly. And it is not afraid of you anymore. It knows you’ll feed it until it’s full. It knows you won’t let it go hungry anymore. 

So, always leery of the bigger animal in the room, you mumble out a chest-thick, “Thank you,” and shiver when he grins. 

There’s a reason they tell you not to feed strays. They often come back for more.

[sttoru]

boob obsessed!gojo please!!

oh absolutelyyyy !

tags. gojo satoru x female reader. breast play, teasing, semi-public, satoru’s v touchy, uhh cum play, mention of blow job, boob job.

satoru , who you have labelled as one of the most shameless people you have ever dated. you’ve known the guy had a thing for your tits the moment the two of you had gotten intimate.

his big hands were all over the swell of your breasts, long fingers kneading and squeezing the flesh. you can always spot the way his pupils dilate whenever he gets the chance of touching them. if you squint well enough, you might even see him drooling a bit whenever he notices the flesh of your breasts and how it bulges when the two are pressed together. and if it isn’t his hands touching those beautiful tits? it’s his tongue.

“mm, god—need ‘m in my mouth. need to taste those tits of yours, princess. c’mon. lemme suck on those nipples.”

satoru , who’s favourite position to cuddle is when he’s laying on your chest. his head will rest between your breasts, one cheek squished against the flesh and fingers usually tracing the shapes of your tits. if you’re not wearing a bra of some kind, he’ll definitely take the opportunity to tease you and circle one of your nipples through the fabric. he just loves the feeling of making you shiver due to his touches.

also, always finds a way to tell you how he ‘loves how squishy and soft they are’. claims they’re even softer than any plushies you own as well.

satoru , who you’ve caught many times staring down at your breasts whenever you’re wearing something skintight or revealing. he can’t help it, it’s his favourite part of your body. somebody needs to save that man, because he’ll literally get lost in thought and won’t even realise he’s ogling your tits.

if it’s not you catching him staring and playfully scolding him for it, it’s his students (who’d probably be disgusted by their teacher’s behaviour in front of their poor eyes). and yes—even in public, satoru’s a complete fool for you and your figure.

satoru , who loves to suck on your tits one way or another. whenever he’s fucking you, he always prefers a position where your chest is facing him. that way, he can see, touch, squeeze and suck on those breasts of yours. he doesn’t waste a single second and immediately latches onto your nipples, wet tongue gliding over your areola, eyes closed and throat making whiny noises.

one thing that never fails to make him rock hard is when you’re walking around the house without a bra on. for you it’s a simple decision; your bra sometimes gets too suffocating on your body. for satoru on the other hand, it’s impossible to ignore the urges in him once his eyes fall on the shape of your nipples that poke through the fabric of your clothes.

that’s also how you end up with his hands all over you every time. one day it’ll be his hands gliding under your shirt to grope your tits, the other day he’ll be more direct and yank your shirt off, put you on the counter and suck on them like there’s no tomorrow.

“nhhh, stay still— ah, shit.. so fuckin’ good. these things were just beggin’ to get sucked on. hm? ‘sensitive’ you say? even better.”

satoru , who enjoys the way your tits glisten when he’s cumming all over them. he loves to see the white liquid drizzle down the curves, over your nipples down to your stomach. if you’re giving him a blowjob, he’ll probably tap your head softly to signal that he’s about to reach his climax. that way you know that he wants to cum over your tits instead of down your throat.

probably instantly gets hard again at the sight of you covered in his sticky cum.

“mm, look at you, sitting there on your knees with my cum all over those pretty tits. aht aht, don’t move now, need to take a picture of the sight for future use.”

satoru , who turns into a trembling and moaning mess whenever you offer to give him a boob job. he’ll let shaky curse words escape the back of his throat, his hands clutching onto whatever he can find, his head thrown back a little but enough for his eyes to still be able to gaze down at you. he gets so turned on and will probably lose the ability to speak whenever he looks at how his cock is engulfed by your tits.

“jus’ like that, baby— oh fuck! look at those fuckin’ tits, mmh, makes me wanna cover ‘m with my cum so bad— shit, can i? may i?”

[saintsugu]

BROTHERLY LOVE. KINKTOBER DAY 1

rating: Mature; mdni

pairing: Step-brother!Megumi x reader

word count: 3.6k

contents: step/pseudo cest, heavy dub con, manipulation from megumi, megumi’s obsessed with purity, rich boy!megumi, vouyerism, masturbation, no prep, slight choking and coercion from yuuta at the end, megumi’s referred to mostly as reader’s brother.

author’s note: first thing i’ve fully written in over a year and it’s a kinktober post…😵‍💫 thank you to all the lovely people who beta’d this for me<3 @dilfhos @iwaasfairy @bunparade

You hear shuffling on the other end, presumably as he gets up to get the door for you. 

Taking advantage of his three day weekend, Megumi invited you to spend the themat his apartment off-campus. You haven’t been able to see him much since the start of the semester, so you were glad to take him up on his offer. 

You’d only met Megumi three years ago, the night his father and your mother announced their…impromptu engagement. Neither of you were really thrilled, but the entire situation was brightened infinitely when you started to get to know your soon-to-be step brother. 

He was always so sweet to you. He would take you out for food, or on shopping sprees— using his daddy’s card to buy you whatever you so much as glanced at. A lot of the time, it was just the two of you at home and he always made sure you weren’t lonely. Honestly, he spoiled you rotten, so how could you be upset with the arrangement?

Toji, though, was a bit…off-putting. He was a lot meaner than his son. You would hear him make comments about how ditzy you were, and it hurt a lot. Thankfully, Megumi was always there to cheer you up. 

You were so upset when he started university. He only visited on the holidays— sometimes not even then. The house felt so empty. You couldn’t help but miss your big brother. So when he came back for the summer, you were beyond grateful. Suddenly, your schedule was full again as the two of you spent every second together. 

Naturally, you were overjoyed when he reached out. Life was getting boring just staying at home, and besides, you just missed him so much. School had never really been your thing, so you didn’t follow your step-brother to college— despite wanting to —and your step-father was kind enough to let you live at home for free, so you didn’t work a job. It was a mostly stress-free life, but without your brother around, it’d gotten a bit…dull. 

When he called you, you were quick to throw a few outfits in a suitcase and catch the soonest train. You made sure to leave a scribbled little note for your mother to inform her of your whereabouts before taking off. 

The train ride is hellishly long, but it’s all worth it when you see your step brother outside the door. He’s smiling warmly, wearing a sweater and some gray sweats as he greets you.

“Hey,” he’s quick to pull you into his arms. He smells good— like freshly sprayed cologne with hints of cedar and vanilla. You’re far too enthralled by his warmth to notice his hands creeping down a little further than warranted, or the way he lifts up the hem of your skirt, his dick twitching a bit as he takes note of your panties. “Come on in.”

The second you step foot into the spacious apartment, you’re met with a pungent smell. It’s so strong that it makes your nose scrunch up. You’ve smelled it before— at a few different parties, but why is it in your brother’s apartment? 

“Sorry about the smell. My friends were just here a bit ago.” It’s not exactly a lie, but the red tint of his eyes is more than enough to prove that he was indulging, too. 

You spend the afternoon catching up with Megumi, listening intently as he tells you censored versions of what he’s been up to. He can tell how starstruck you are as you listen with bated breath. It might make him sick, but he loves how you’ve always hung off his every word. 

Ever since he was young, Megumi has watched his father go through women like they were nothing more than objects. The same rang true for the friends he started to gain in high school, and it wasn’t just the boys. He found that all of the girls were quite…promiscuous. 

He never thought there was anything necessarily wrong with it— until he met his sweet little step-sister, that is. 

That night at dinner, you were just so kind, nothing at all like the girls at his private school. They were all snobby and too good for him, but you, you were perfect; you are perfect. You’ve always been so malleable and kind hearted. He knew from the first time you went to get ice cream in his Cadillac, the way you apologized until there were tears filling your sweet eyes over a bit of spilled sprinkles. God, you’ve had him wrapped around your dainty little finger from the moment he met you.

“I was thinking we could go to brunch tomorrow.” He pats the spot next to him on the couch as he leans back, his ankle coming up to drape across his other knee. On cue, you pad over from where you are in his kitchen, plopping down right next to him. “There’s a cute little joint nearby that I know you’ll love.”

His kind words warm your chest, making your cheeks rise into a smile. He’s always looking out for you or thinking of you. He’s even sent you a few dresses while he’s been away! They’re a bit….small, but you figure he just got your sizing wrong. Either way, it’s the thought that counts, right? 

“Tonight, though, I was wondering if you wanted to meet some of my friends. They were all excited when I told them you were visiting.” Too excited for Megumi’s liking. “It won’t be a lot, just three or four guys coming over for a bit. Only if you want, though.” Even before you answer, he knows that you’ll say yes. You’d never deny him anything, but it makes him look good if he gives you an out. 

“Oh that’ll be fun!” You grin innocently. “We can watch movies.”

God, he loves the way you beam at him. Your innocence is such a refresher. But, as much as he loves it, you also make him want to tear it away from you before anyone else can. Sometimes, he just wants to break you down and build you back up from scratch. He knows it’s sick— that he shouldn’t feel like this towards his supposed sister, but he can’t help it. It’s just the way his mind works. 

As the clock starts to slip into the evening hours, there are continuous knocks at his front door, all one after another. Yuuji Itadori is the first to arrive. You’ve met him once before, during Thanksgiving break when Megumi brought him along. His rambunctious voice and laugh fills the air of Megumi’s, otherwise, stale apartment. A girlish giggle erupts from your lips when Yuuji slaps your step-brother on the back a little too hard, causing him to swear in pain and you both laugh at the scowl he shoots his way. 

Yuuji is quickly followed by Kokichi Muta. He’s much more timid in comparison. It’s a bit…confusing when you notice the light dusting of pink on his cheeks when he lays eyes on you. 

Next, Noritoshi Kamo, and lastly— and arguably the most important out of the four— Yuuta Okkotsu.

Megumi has been trying to find himself in Yuuta’s good graces since his first semester of his freshman year. Not only is Yuuta two grades his senior, but he’s the vice president of the fraternity Megumi has been wanting to rush since his junior year of high school.  

Megumi’s kind enough to introduce you to his friends, but you can feel your cheeks heat up when their eyes linger for a little longer than you’d expect. They all make themselves comfortable on the two couches, hands wrapped around the beer’s bottleneck while they snicker amongst themselves. You’ve been keeping Megumi company in the kitchen, but not paying enough attention to notice the amount of drinks he had brought to the couch. When he finally sits down, you’re close behind him.

“Here, have some,” he opens the bottle of beer and hands it to you, despite the confused look on your face. He knows you don’t drink, but he also knows that means your tolerance is nonexistent and that it's going to make his life a lot easier. 

Any words of rebuttal get stuck in your throat. Your eyebrows pull into a frown, but you sheepishly take the drink anyway. You don’t like being intoxicated; Megumi calls it an irrational fear, but you can’t help it. The drink feels foreign in your hands, but he’d never do anything to hurt you, right?

Despite the sour taste of the beer, you swallow it anyway. You don’t want to embarrass Megumi by acting like a fool in front of his friends. Yuuji starts a conversation and soon enough, you’ve finished the bottle. Unfortunately, you’re too preoccupied running your mouth to notice when Megumi sets another in your hand, and you obediently continue sipping. 

You don’t even know how many you’ve downed by the time you pause and realize your head feels dizzy. Megumi finds it adorable— the way your face flushes and your words start to slur. You try and fail to whisper to him about how tired you are, and it earns a snicker from Yuuta. Good, he thinks. I need to keep his attention. 

“C’mere.” You don’t think much when Megumi pats his lap. Your movements are much more sluggish and there’s a surge of warmth in your chest that you can’t quite place as you climb onto him, nuzzling your head into his neck. Everything feels so overwhelming, especially when you hear his friend whistle. You don’t know why, and you’re too out of it to ask or even guess why. Little do you know, it’s because your tiny skirt has been flipped up for everyone to get a glimpse of your ass. 

“Shit, y’gonna share, right?” There’s a nasty grin on Noritoshi’s face as he takes a long sip from his beer. 

“You wish,” Megumi mumbles lowly, a dark and possessive tone underlying his seemingly nonchalant words. Strong hands slide down your body before landing on your hips. “Hey, pretty.” His voice is just a whisper, but you know that he’s talking to you. 

“Yeah, ‘Gumi?” You ask sweetly. He loves when you call him that. Despite it just being a variation of his name, he finds it so fucking adorable that his cock jumps in his pants every time he hears it. 

“I need you to do something for me, okay?” He feels you nod and he can’t help but smile at how pliant and ready you are to please him. “Nothing new,” he whispers, and you can’t help but shiver a bit. 

“We’re just gonna do what we usually do—play how we do when it’s just us,” a soft hand traces hearts on your bare thigh. “And we’re gonna pretend like my friends aren’t here, okay?”

What?

This all feels…weird, and a little scary. But you know that your big brother would never hurt you— of course not! But what if he’s friends with bad men and doesn’t know it? What if…what if something goes wrong?

His words confuse you. Usually, when you’re playing together in the way he means, he always tells you not to do it with anyone else, that it should be reserved for your brother only, so why is he changing his mind?

“I asked a question, baby.” His once soft touch turns firmer until you squeak out an unsure okay, the sound muffled against the crook of his neck. “Good girl,” he purrs. “Y’always so good for me.”

You’re no longer able to think about how anxious and unsure you are as your step-brother pulls you into a soft kiss. Soon, he’s filling up every one of your senses. He’s the only thing you can feel, smell, or hear, and it’s nearly suffocating. 

It’s simple, really. He knows every single thing that turns you on and drives you insane; hell, he created those things. When you met, you were a virgin who didn’t even know what oral was. 

Despite his overwhelming touches, your attention isn’t stuck on him. His friends are all slumped back on the couch and staring straight at you. Their gazes make you feel trapped. There’s a tightening in your chest before Megumi's stern voice breaks you out of your trance. “Don’t look at them,” he scolds, a soft hand redirecting your jaw. “C’mon, baby, look at me.”

Nothing in the world can get him as hard as he is when he sees that look on your face—those big, near tearful eyes that are just begging for him to make it all better. 

As much as he wants to take care of you, there’s still a part of him, a sick and twisted part of him that sits right beneath the surface, too deep down to ignore. That's what’s making him do this. Megumi believes that these feelings can only be attributed to his father’s genetics. It’s not his fault that he wants to ruin you. He knows someone will take advantage of your naivety one day, so why can’t it be him? He deserves that much, doesn’t he? 

“You know I’d never hurt you.” You wouldn’t know the difference, he thinks to himself. You look so worried, but he can’t figure out why. Most of the time, there’s not a single thought in that pretty little head of yours, so what’s running through it now? Honestly, he doesn’t care too much; instead, his hand continues to slide down your back with no regard for your anxiety. 

Despite his words, he can tell you’re anxious. It irritates him a bit, but instead of letting it show, he just leans back against the couch. “Go ahead, baby. Take that shirt off for me.” The thumb rubbing circles into your inner thigh encourages you. 

Your throat feels dry as your big brother puts you on the spot. Nerves shoot through your body at the mere prospect of upsetting him. The thought of him being disappointed in you is a quick way to get your shaky hands pulling at your skimpy tank top. 

Manicured nails tug at the hem of it, eyes trained only on Megumi as you pull it over your head. The air feels bitter when it hits your skin but heat from Megumi’s burning gaze warms you. 

“Good girl.” His praise makes you melt, especially with all that booze in your system. You can’t even remember how much he had you drink. Every time you even began to try and protest, he would just press the rim to your lips and tell you to drink.

A hand on your waist pulls you in, and it’s not long before he has his tongue halfway down your throat. You’re so overwhelmed with simply trying to breathe that you don’t see Megumi pull his cock out. It’s already hard— pretty much has been since you arrived, and he’s not at all sly as he pulls your panties to the side. 

In contrast to yours that are screwed shut, his eyes are wide as they meet with Yuuta. Fuck, Yuuta’s gaze is piercing. It’s so clear that he’s judging him. Yuuta is leaning back into the cushion, his ankle crossed over his leg and his expression reads as if he’s bored. And that only spurs Megumi on further. He’s so desperate to show off in front of the man. 

He won’t admit it, but he’s had a slight crush on the man since he started University; honestly, it’s evident in the way his cock pulses simply from Yuuta’s judgemental stare. 

“G-Gumi..!” You gasp into his open lips, taken completely off guard. In the past, he’s always talked you through it. He would make sure you were prepped thoroughly before trying to nestle deep inside of you. Now, though, you can’t help but feel he’s being mean as he lifts your hips, just to force you down on his cock. 

“Shit,” Noritoshi laughs, palming himself through his sweats. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Fushiguro.” His words earn a disgruntled scowl from Megumi. In turn, you feel his hands grip you impossibly tighter, as if he’s visibly laying claim to you.

He ignores his taunts, far too focused on his baby sister’s sweet and tight cunt. Fuck, it’s tighter than he remembers. Knowing you, you never did so much as finger yourself while he’s been away. This past summer, he told you that he’d know if you had. Thankfully for him, you were naive enough to believe him. 

Soon enough, you’re tucked against his chest as he grinds you over his cock. You squeeze the fabric of his shirt between dainty hands; your hold is so tight he’s worried the threads will snap. The shirt’s quite expensive, so he should care about you potentially ruining it, but he can’t bring himself to when he’s balls deep inside of you. 

A vicious grin finds his face when he takes in the state of his apartment. Noritoshi and Kokichi shamelessly have their cocks out, jacking off lazily to the sight in front of them. Yuuji, on the other hand, takes a more…reserved approach. His lip is tucked between his teeth, nearly quivering as he not-so-discreetly palms his painfully hard cock. 

As you near your orgasm, Megumi takes advantage of your fucked out state. Usually, he’s so sweet and gentle, but tonight, he can’t help but be a little rough as he forces you into a new position. He manhandles you until you’re face down, with your tits pressed into the glass table. 

As much as he loves your tits, Megumi’s always been a sucker for this angle. With his hands having free reign of your ass, he could never get tired of the view. 

You’re pulled out of your near orgasmic high and thrown into the reality of who’s watching. “I-I…” you stammer nervously, still whimpering as Megumi fucks into you. 

“Hey, pretty,” Noritoshi teases, leaning in slightly. “You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you?”

You’re quick to deny his accusation. “‘Gumi says ‘m a good girl…” you turn your head to look at your big brother. “…right, ‘Gumi?”

“Yeah, you are.” He’s groaning as his pace picks up, making your toes curl as you grip onto nothing. He’s fighting back the urge to cum with every thrust. “My good girl.”

Your eyes roll when he hits deep inside of you—the sight is something straight out of a porno as your tits slide against the glass surface. All you have on is a skimpy little bralette, one that any of these guys could snap with ease. With your tongue lolling out, every single guy in the room, with Yuuta being the exception, is groaning and pumping just a bit faster. 

Yuuta, on the other hand, is just watching. Not once as he adjusted himself or even re-situated on the couch. He almost looks…bored, and that worries Megumi beyond belief.

“Fuck, Fushiguro, y’gotta let me get in on this. At least let me take her throat or something.” All Noritoshi’s doing is running his mouth and it’s starting to get on his nerves. In no world is he letting any of these vile men get their greedy hands on his baby sister. You’re too pure for that. 

“Be quiet,” he snaps, rough hands tugging at the fat of your hips. His eyes cut at his friend, a sinister look in them. The boy backs off, if only for now as Megumi gets closer to his high. 

You feel something brewing in your lower stomach. It’s not unfamiliar— you only get it with Megumi, but it’s more…intense this time. Instead of the slow and gentle buildup you usually get, this time it’s hurtling at you. 

“Gumi,” you stammer out, eyes still rolling as your acrylics scrape at the table. “D-don’t know what’s happening….!”

He’s quick to shush you. The last thing he needs is your whining ruining his orgasm. “‘S okay, baby,” he purrs, a firm hand wrapping around your neck as he pushes you cheek-first into the glass. “Gonna feel good, I promise.”

His pace grows erratic with his approaching orgasm being so close. His dick pulses inside of you and with one last groan, he pushes deep inside of you as his orgasm washes over. 

His entire body shivers in its wake, and that feeling is only amplified when you start to twitch as well. Your cunt grows impossibly tight as your pleasure peaks, and your walls milk him of every drop of his cum— so much so, that it’s starting to leak out and drip down your inner thighs.

“Good girl.” He’s completely out of breath, but he knows the praise is what you need. The small sobs and hiccups that escape your lips are clear indicators of the praise you’ll need from your big brother. “Did so good, baby…”

A soft hand traces up and down your body and he can’t help but feel a little smug when he sees that three out of the four men came as well— Yuuji, unfortunately in his pants. 

But that’s only three, he realizes. It seems that Yuuta disappeared between now and right before his orgasm hit. Where could he have gone—

“That was good.” His voice is low in Megumi’s ear as he leans over the couch. Megumi freezes and he swears that the hairs on his neck stand up. His nearly soft cock twitches a bit at the praise. 

“Now why don’t you let me have a try and I’ll see what I can do about extending a bid.”

tagging: @pussydrunkfyodor @kkittycries @saintriots @chaoticmoonave @enchantedforest-network

[realjungkook]

Too Busy Being Yours

Keigo Tamaki (Hawks)/Reader

Note: first smut (except that one omegaverse i did with my friend on Ao3, but please bear with me, this is probably bad.) Anyway!

Warnings: 18+ (pretty vanilla), Not proofread

Summary: You don't like Hawks, until a late night of unexpected, Passionate events take place.

Word count: 1857

Enjoy!

Your heels click on the floor as you try to follow Hawks’ quick steps. His long legs makes it difficult to follow him while wearing stilettos. The pile of papers are tightly pressed against your chest, as you desperately try not to drop them. You’re barely looking where you’re going, and almost hit two people. Hawks is pulling you along by your arm, and he’s the only reason you haven’t hit anything yet. 

“Can you slow down?” You hiss between your teeth. He turns his head, a cocky smile perched on his lips. 

“Can’t keep up?”

You roll your eyes. Hawks was always teasing you in the worst situations possible, when you were least in the mood for it. 

“I told you we had to leave earlier.”

“Whatever you say.” He turns back. You’ll be there soon. 

Hawks always had a tack for being late. Being his assistant was by far the most stressful job you’ve ever had. And his constant jokes and cheerfulness were draining sometimes. Even if it was uplifting when you’d had a bad morning. 

You finally get to the interview, in a small apartment on a street corner. You stop to catch your breath, sweat immediately collecting on your brow. Of course, Hawks was irritatingly unaffected. 

“See ya later, darling,” he winks, and you shake your head, ignoring him. You were stressed. This interview gave you a bit of time to focus on all the paperwork you were behind on. 

You of course, don’t see Hawks’ smile quickly fading when he realises you weren’t really affected by his teasing. Funny. He wasn’t used to that. 

Hawks rising in popularity meant more paperwork for you. And paperwork for a top 3 hero wasn’t something that could wait until morning. A headache had been forming behind your forehead for the past two hours and it was simply getting too hard to ignore. You sigh, pushing out your chair, getting up to get yourself another cup of coffee. Was this your fifth today? Your seventh? It doesn’t matter, anyway. The only thing filling your brain is heroes, interviewers and media. The tiredness wasn’t allowed to nudge its way in. You couldn’t afford that. 

You’re so lost in thought, you don’t feel the presence sneaking up on you. Only when two warm hands grab your shoulders and you shriek, heart jumping in your throat. 

“What are you doing here so late?” And oh, it’s just Hawks. You groan, pushing his hand away. 

“Fuck off.” 

You turn to walk away again, suddenly forgetting what it was you came for. But Hawks isn’t giving up so easily. 

“Aww, come on, humour me.”

You’ve had enough. 

You turn around, grabbing his collar in anger. Of course, he doesn’t budge an inch. But it certainly feels good, and you’re tired and irritated, frustrated and angry. And you just… explode. 

“Don’t test me! This has been too long of a day… a week… a month… a year for that matter. You’ve tested my limits every day, for however long I have worked for you, I’m so fucking sick of being your plaything. You don’t respect me, you don’t respect my work-”

“Y/n.”

“You don’t seem to care for how I’m doing, just constantly putting more pressure on me. You never take a moment to stop and think. Maybe you’re not the fucking only person in the world.”

“Y/n.”

“Maybe, for just a second, could you care about someone that isn't you. And maybe, just maybe, would you think it isn’t my job to take care of you when you’re alone or sad, I’m your assistant for god's sake, you big!… fucking!… man baby!”

“Y/n! Oh my god, listen!”

You push him back. “But you never listen to me!”

Hawks’ eyes are wild. He looks flabbergasted, as surprised as you’ve ever seen him. But his open mouth slowly forms into a smirk. Your stomach drops. Whether it’s in anticipation, fear, or maybe even excitement, you don’t know. 

“Oh but I do. About the things that are important.”

You tsk. “What things?”

He looks too smug, as he starts to speak. 

“I know that you deeply hate the guy from block 1.”

You stare at him with wide eyes. 

“I do not-”

He laughs. “Don’t play smart. You frown everytime he opens his mouth during meetings, and always object when he has an idea. It’s obvious.”

Obvious, yet only you’ve noticed. 

It’s your turn to look flabbergasted now. 

“Okay, so maybe he’s not my favourite person in the world, you’re right about that.”

Hawks smiles. 

“And you never wear your hair up. I take it you don’t like the sensation.”

It had never really caught your attention, just how much notice Hawks took of you, compared to how little you took of him. You’re borderline speechless. This always happens to everyone around you. His fans, coworkers, but never you. You 're never affected. The man takes notice, and he suddenly seems closer than before. 

“Cat got your tongue?”

If this were five minutes ago, you would’ve sighed and rolled your eyes. But now, you’re silent. 

“I just- I didn't know.”

His fingers find Your neck and goosebumps travel through your whole body. 

“Didn't know what? That I like you?”

Your immediate reaction is of course, denial. 

“That doesn't make any sense. Why would a pro hero be into someone like-”

But you don't get to finish, as he suddenly pulls you close. 

“I’m going to kiss you. That okay?”

 You’re so surprised that you just freeze, staring up into his big, owlish eyes. You can’t tell what kind of emotion hides behind them. 

“Okay,” you whisper, feeling the desire pull in your chest, more intense than you’d ever experienced. Before you get to take another breath, Hawks lips are on yours, soft and wanting, like this is the last time he’s going to kiss you. You really hope that’s not the case. 

Breathing is the last thing on your mind as your mouths passionately move together. You’re clutching his shirt hard, and you can feel his erection growing against you. 

“I wanna eat you out,” he says, biting your earlobe. The surprisement from all of this has still not entirely passed, but you’ve decided to just go with it. 

“Please,” you moan, and it comes out a lot more desperately than you’d anticipated. You clumsy move towards your desk, his lips sucking eagerly on your neck as you both try to unzip your skirt. He hits a spot on the end of your neck that feels incredibly ticklish and good, and you moan a bit too eagerly as he desperately pushes all of the papers off of your desk in one swipe. 

You feel a stab of irritation in your chest, and is about to give him a piece of your mind, before he pushes you down with practised ease. His incredible strength really comes to sight in a situation like this. It turns you on a lot more than you’d thought it would. you seem to get surprised a lot today.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

You’re pretty sure he’d be able to spread them just fine himself, but you still listen, flinching a bit when the cold air hits your aching cunt. You’re so wet already that it’s almost embarrassing. 

He grips your thighs securely, kissing up your inner thighs. You’re so wet that you can feel the slick dripping down to your asshole. 

As soon as he gets started, Hawks is unstoppable. He eats you out like he’s starving. You’re too gone to be embarrassed about the wet squelching sounds, as he eagerly sucks your clit with the confidence of an experienced man. Your legs are shaking, and you’re sure that there will be marks tomorrow from where his fingers grip your thighs tightly. 

“Don’t, ngh- don’t stop!” you loudly breathe out, voice trembling as you, to your utmost surprise, suddenly cum. Everything feels overwhelming as he stops, lifting his head, his whole underface covered in your wetness. 

“You’re acting like I would ever,” he says, a bit out of breath. You can’t deny your attraction to him anymore, especially in a moment like this. “You taste too sweet,” his voice drops an octave as he leans closer to your face, breathing against your lips. “You can’t imagine how long I've wanted to do this. I could go on all night, until you’re completely dry. And then in the morning, I want to fuck you until my body gives out.”

That would take a while, especially with the incredible stamina he has, you think, feeling as if you’re in some kind of pleasant haze. 

“You don’t know how feral I am for you, y/n. It’s scaring even myself.”

You stare up at him in surprise, suddenly unsure of what to do. But you don’t need to be sure about anything, as Hawks leads you through it. 

He pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you, as you wonder how you’re even able to take this. On an uncomfortable desk at that. But true to his word, you’re riding him like you’ve never ridden anyone ever before in his apartment a few hours later as the earliest sunlight start to stream through the curtains. 

Hawks face is pulled back in pleasure as he slides his hands up your hips, shamelessly studying your bouncing breasts. 

“You’re so good for me,” he grumbles, and you let out a pleased whine at the praise. The sheets under you are soaked, but with the way Hawks is praising and caressing you, you feel like you could go on forever. 

His mouth drops open, and you can tell that he’s about to cum. You increase your pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin getting impossibly louder. You just hope the neighbours won’t complain tomorrow. 

It’s incredibly thrilling, having the famous pro hero in the palm of your hand like this.

“I’m going to cum,” He warns, and not even a second later, warmth suddenly fills your belly as his white seeds coat your walls. You cum yourself only seconds later, resisting the urge not to scream as you feel his cum dribble down onto the sheets, your body spasming with the shocks. You hold back a wince at the distant thought that you’d maybe scratched his back a bit too hard. You’ll have to remember to ask him later if he’s okay. But for now, you can barely keep your eyes open. 

“Can we stay like this for a little while?” He asks, and you nod faintly, resting your head on his shoulder. Not a single thought passes behind your eyes, only the warmth of your bodies sticking together and Hawks, Hawks, Hawks. 

You didn’t care about the mess. Right now, you only cared about him. And that was enough.

[noyasmashing]

Not sure if you've written for Iwaizumi yet, but all the fics I see have him as the dominant one and I can't help but want to big spoon that man. Like what if he's totally whipped for the reader? What if he just needs to be taken care of? All that's to say can I request an Iwaizumi fic where he's the one being taken care of for once? You can do whatever you want with this request since it wasn't overly specific!

A/N: Okay, so I originally planned to write just a short drabble about this, but my fingers got ahead of my brain and now it’s turned into a whole fic. I promise I’ll write a thirst piece later that focuses entirely on spoiling him. I hope you enjoy this!

CW: iwa has feels but no established relationship, sub iwa, gn!dom! reader, college au, cuddling, praise, lots of it, hand job, crying, and a bit of edging

WC: 3.8K

Iwaizumi always took pride in his assertive, no-nonsense attitude. It sometimes made him come off harsher than he intended. Yet, here’s the thing: his usual sharp words seemed to evaporate in your presence. You were just so warm and comforting. He couldn’t help but feel a lump in his throat when you smiled at him or placed your hands on his hips to slide past him. He was supposed to be the one doing that to you, damn it!

He decided he had to avoid you. It was the only way to stop these confusing feelings from intensifying. It had become worse lately; just last night, he had a vivid dream about sucking your breasts as you praised him.

Iwaizumi's eyes involuntarily squeezed shut, as he tried to suppress the embarrassing memories that flooded his mind. But before he could regain his composure, your voice pierced through the haze, "You alright, Hajime? Here, take this." He snapped his eyes open, catching sight of you sitting across from him, munching on a protein bar and offering him one. The sight of you, so calm and collected, only made him feel more flustered. His cheeks grew hot as he struggled to maintain his usual stoic demeanor.

“O-oh, uh, thanks. Just a little tired, that’s all,” he mumbled, trying to downplay his awkwardness. He took the protein bar, his hands fumbling with the wrapper as he attempted to appear nonchalant. Inside, he was mortified. Why did you have to approach him now, of all times? He felt like such an idiot. Seeing him all alone like that would surely draw your attention to him.

“Stay up too late partying? Let me guess, Toru has a hangover and skipped,” you mused aloud with a small eye roll at the setter’s dramatics, taking another bite of your snack.

Hajime smiled, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “I told that dumbass he shouldn’t be taking so many shots, but he doesn’t listen when he’s drunk,” he said, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and exasperation as he tried to maintain a composed demeanor.

Hajime's face fell as you let out a giggle at his remark, his embarrassment evident as his face flushed. "When does he listen to you, though?" you teased, a playful smile spreading across your lips.

Hajime's hand rose to his hair, his fingers raking through the strands in a nervous gesture. "Sometimes I feel like all I do is yell at him," he said, his voice laced with frustration as he reflected on his tumultuous history with Oikawa.

You couldn't help but indulge in a sympathetic coo at his confession. "Sounds like you need a break, huh?" you suggested, your tone gentle and understanding. Hajime's eyes widened as he drew in a sharp breath, trying to stop the blood now rushing to his lower regions.

“W-what do you mean?” Hajime asked, his voice low and husky, his words barely above a whisper. You bit back a smile, trying to maintain a neutral expression as you gazed at him. His attempts to hide his emotions were laughable, his face a picture of confusion and embarrassment. You could read all the emotions he was feeling right now, and it made you lick your lips.

"Aren't you tired of always being the one in charge?" you asked, your voice soft and enticing. "I bet it would be nice to be pampered, hmm?" You spoke the words slowly, letting them hang in the air as you subtly shifted your position to brush your foot against his leg. The gentle touch sent a shiver through his body, and he couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest as your ankle teased against his own.

"I-I mean, yeah. It would be nice, considering exams are approaching," Hajime replied, his tone cautious as he struggled to decipher the intentions behind your words. He wasn't sure if you were genuinely trying to be helpful, or if you were just being playful or even flirtatious. As a result, he decided to err on the side of caution and keep his response neutral, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to read between the lines.

"What are you doing for the rest of the day?" you asked, your question innocuous enough, but your foot's subtle withdrawal from his leg sent a pang of disappointment through him.

"Well, my afternoon class got canceled since my professor is sick, so I don't have much to do," His voice trembled slightly as he asked the follow-up question, "W-why do you ask?" but he made a conscious effort to hide his emotions, not wanting to reveal the flutter in his chest that had accompanied his words.

"Hmmm, I don't have any more classes either," you said, a thought suddenly occurring to you as you looked at him. "Why don't you come back to my apartment? I don't think I've ever shown it to you," you suggested, a sense of surprise and awareness washing over you as you realized the truth - you'd never actually invited him over before.

"Wha—?" He cleared his throat before speaking again. "Sure," he said, adopting a polite tone to mask his surprise. "What time would be best for you?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to gauge your intentions.

"Right now, silly!" you exclaimed, standing up and tugging him along by the hand. He let out a surprised gasp as he had no choice but to follow you, his eyes fixed on your retreating back.

"Don't worry, I'm only a five-minute walk from here," you teased, leading him out of the campus. You finally released his wrist, and he fell into step beside you, his pace relaxed.

A small chuckle escaped his lips as he gazed at you. "I wasn't worried," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh yeah. You probably run long distances for cardio conditioning, right?" you chattered as you two turned a corner on the sidewalk. "I hate running; I couldn't imagine," you added.

"It's not that bad, for me anyway," he replied carefully. Normally, he would have scoffed at someone who complained about a particular exercise, but with you, he found himself strangely indifferent. In fact, your aversion to running had suddenly made him less enthusiastic about it himself.

"Really?" you pondered. "I like mountain biking more; the views are so pretty," you said, your eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

The conversation flowed effortlessly between you two as you strolled through the bustling streets, the sounds of the city serving as a pleasant background hum. Before long, you led him to your apartment, and you began to prepare a soothing cup of tea. He sat nervously on the mat in front of the table, his eyes fixed on the surface as he awaited his next move.

The soft melody of your humming drifted from the kitchen, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He got up from his seat on the mat, his movements slow and deliberate, and made his way into the kitchen, where he found you busy preparing tea.

"You need any help with that?" he asked, standing in the doorway, his tall frame looming over you as you stood at the counter, his eyes meeting yours as you looked up.

You flashed him a warm smile, one that seemed to stir something deep within him. To his surprise, his legs felt like jelly, and he felt himself shrinking under the gentle warmth of your gaze. "Don't worry your pretty little head, I'm almost done anyway," you said, trying to play it off as a joke. A silly way to let him know you didn’t require his help. But as you looked up at him, you noticed his face had turned a bright, burning red.

He felt his face grow hotter by the second, his mind clouding over with a strange, fuzzy sensation. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he felt so helpless. He had no idea why he was suddenly so overwhelmed, but the feeling was suffocating him.

“Oh-hajime, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”you said, concern etched on your face. You thought he was upset, maybe he had an insecurity you didn’t know about. But as you set the pot down and approached him, he surprised you by wrapping his arms around you.

The hug was sudden, and it caught you off guard. "You don't know what you're doing to me," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. The words were meant to be strong and confident, but they emerged as a soft, anguished whisper.

Your hands instinctively settled onto his hips, and you paused for a moment to gather your thoughts before speaking. "You're right, I don't think I do," you said, a hint of curiosity in your tone. "Do you want to show me?" The words were barely out of your mouth when he began to whimper in your ear, his voice trembling with emotion.

"Please, can we go somewhere... more... more..." he trailed off, his words dissolving into a vulnerable silence. You could sense his raw emotion, and it seemed like he was searching for a way to express himself.

“My bedroom is right down here, sweetie,” you guided him towards your bedroom, leading him by the hand down the hallway. He clung to your hand nervously, his eyes fixed on the door ahead.

"Can I ask what's going on?" you asked, settling in beside him on the bed as he shifted his weight onto your lap. His larger frame was now enveloping you, his larger body practically in your lap.

"I-I don't know," he stammered, his voice trembling as he struggled to articulate his emotions. "It's just your voice is so... warm, and it makes my head spin," he admitted, his words faltering as he relived the intensity of the moment.

You chuckled softly, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "Sounds like you like being spoiled," you teased, leaning in closer to him. As you did, his nose was met with the sweet scent of your perfume, and his gaze was drawn to the plump, inviting curves of your lips. He couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest as he wondered what it would be like to taste them.

"Would you like to cuddle for a bit?" you asked, he nodded without hesitation and he instinctively nestled into the curve of your neck, his body sprawling across yours. Your head sank into the soft pillows as he settled in, his hands awkwardly adjusting the blanket.

“You comfy?” your voice was muffled by his hair, but he felt the gentle touch of your fingers tracing the contours of his back. He shivered in response, his voice barely audible as he murmured a grateful "yes, thank you" into your neck.

Your fingers wandered through the silky strands of his hair, tantalizingly teasing them with a gentle pull every now and then, just to coax out a plaintive whimper from his lips.

Before you knew it, you became aware of a subtle, yet unmistakable, presence against your leg. It was warm, hard, and throbbing with an unmistakable rhythm. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized that Hajime was now subtly moving his hips against your thigh, his body seemingly trying to find its own rhythm.

“Hajime?" you whispered, easing yourself up slightly on the pillow. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you were struck by the vivid flush spreading across his cheeks and the sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.

"Are you turned on right now?" you asked, your voice low and husky, as your hand wandered down to his hips, grazing the sensitive skin. Hajime's eyes widened in surprise, his pupils dilating as he struggled to process the sudden intimacy. He couldn't meet your gaze, his face flushing with embarrassment as he stuttered out an apology.

"Y-you're just so... so pretty," he stammered, his words faltering as he attempted to put distance between you. He edged away, his body language screaming discomfort and embarrassment, as he tried to regain his composure.

You couldn't help but coo as you took in his flustered state. “Let me take care of you.” You purred gently, making him melt.

With a gentle yet firm grip, you guided him closer, until he was seated between your thighs, his back pressed against your chest.

“Relax” you commanded at his tense frame.

“Right-sorry.” He nodded, doing his best to stop his thighs from flexing when you touched him.

Your fingers danced across his lower abdomen, their slow and deliberate movements sending shivers of anticipation down his spine. As your palms brushed against his skin, his hips instinctively lifted, his body responding to the subtle touch with a primal urge.

"So sensitive," you whispered huskily into his ear, your hot breath sending a thrill through his body. Your fingers drifted down, delicately tracing the outline of his cock still confined by his pants, and he felt his pulse quicken in response.

“'m sorry," he whispered, his voice laced with desperation, as he reached out to grasp your thigh, his fingers digging into your skin as if trying to anchor himself against the impending storm.

"Don't be pretty boy, it's adorable, you're adorable." The words were a gentle taunt, making him let out a pitiful whine. You took advantage of his vulnerability, reaching out to gently grasp his chin and turn his face towards you. His eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of pleading and shame, as he struggled to process the softness of your words.

His eyes welled up with tears as he gazed at you, his breathing quickening as a sudden gasp escaped his lips. Your hand, like a gentle thief, slid around his waistband, pulling down the fabric that had been hiding his most intimate secrets from your gaze. The soft fabric slid down, revealing the red puffy cock to you. A lewd slapping sound was heard as his member sprang forth landing on his abdomen, vulnerable and exposed.

He pinched his eyes shut, his eyelids trembling as he desperately tried to block out the reality of the situation. He couldn't believe you were asking him to make eye contact with you as you performed that intimate and revealing act.

He became suddenly aware of a refreshing sensation trickling down his length. He looked to see you expertly applying a lubricant from a bottle, its smooth glide easing onto his twitching shaft. You whispered softly, "This will help," and he nodded in assent, his voice barely above a whisper as he murmured, "It's cold."

You softly cooed, taking a moment to slowly spread the lubricant along his red, swollen cock. His head arched back in a sensual moan as your fingers delicately brushed against his tip, sending shivers through his body.

"I-I think I'm going to come." he slurred, his hooded eyes straining against the pressure of your closed palm. However, the warmth was short-lived as you suddenly pulled your hand away from him, leaving him feeling momentarily deprived and frustrated.

Instead, he was left gasping for air, his cock angrily twitching in frustration. "I can't have you coming too soon," you said, your tone matter-of-fact. "Where's the fun in that?" Your hand returned to his cock, and he sat there, unable to muster a response, his head nodding dumbly in agreement.

You resumed your gentle strokes, and he let out a low groan as he buried his face into your neck. As your hand moved faster, his voice rose to a higher pitch, his pleasure growing more intense. His thighs began to tremble beneath your touch, and despite his efforts to resist, they involuntarily closed in on themselves, betraying his mounting arousal.

You let out a soft sigh, pausing your movements to gently coax his thighs apart once more. "Keep this up and I'll have to invest in a spreader bar," you teased, shaking your head in amusement. With a gentle smile, you resumed your task, your hand moving once more.

“I’m sorry, don’t mean too.” he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of embarrassment. But the truth was, he secretly preferred the brief interruptions when you had to pause to re-spread his legs. The momentary respite gave him a chance to catch his breath and regain control. And if he wasn't careful, he risked losing himself entirely, on the cusp of a climax that threatened to overwhelm him.

His abs rippled and flexed as he writhed in your grasp, his body responding to your thumb teasing his tip that seemed to be endlessly leaking with pre cum. The sensation was too much to bear, and he let out a horse cry, his body instinctively jerking and clutching at your wrist as if seeking release from the mounting pleasure.

“fuck-fuck… fUCk. I can’t keep d-doing th-this.” he cursed under his breath. Your own body responded to his reactions, your stomach fluttering with anticipation as you watched him. The way his chest heaved with ragged breaths and the sounds he made sent shivers down your spine, leaving you aching with desire.

"I'm here to help you relax baby. You can come." you whispered softly, your voice gentle and reassuring. Your hands moved in a smooth, steady rhythm, as if guided by an unseen force. Your fingers danced across his skin, exploring every contour and curve. You couldn't resist the urge to experiment, and your fingertips grazed against the sensitive skin of his nipple, still hidden beneath his sweaty shirt.

As he let go, a torrent of white liquid burst forth from his head, splattering his shirt and leaving a visible mark. The cry that escaped his lips was a raw, high-pitched sound, filled with a mix of relief and release. The pent-up emotion seemed to pour out of him, like a dam breaking, as hot tears burned down his cheeks.

“Such a good boy, I didn’t think you would listen so well.” you praised, slowing your strokes. All he could manage was to slur his thanks and catch his breath wearily. It was endearing how overwhelmed he was from a mere handjob. You were going to enjoy having to taking care of him from now on.

[yelenasdiary]

Don't Chicken Out

Pairing: Kate Bishop X Fem! Reader.

Summary: Kate gets upset thinking you’ve started dating somebody. 

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, 

Type: Fluff & Angst

AC: This is a request from my old

“Pizza is here!” Kate excitingly jumped up from the sofa and ran to the door, “I’ll get the beer!” I said as I walked to the fridge. I grabbed two bottles and opened them, “What are we watching tonight?” I asked Kate as I made my way back to the living room. Kate and I have been friends since she joined the Avengers and I loved having another person to hang out with who was close in age. Don’t get me wrong, I love hanging out with the others but something about Kate makes her my favourite. 

“Whatever you want?” she replied, placing two slices of pizza on a small place for herself. I handed her a bottle of beer as I sat down next to her. “Uhm…what about Blended?” I suggested. “That one about Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore going to a resort?” she asked. I nodded, “yeah, it’s pretty funny!” I added. “Let’s do it!” she smiled. 

It was normal for Kate to cuddle up against me while we watched movies, it was in her personality. She was bubbly and sometimes annoying but in a good way, you feel? 

“These love movies are so corny, but I love them” Kate spoke as I gently played with her hair. “Look how sweet he looks at her” she added. “I guess so” I replied. I wasn’t too big on the romance side of the movie; I just enjoyed the comedy of it. 

“I guess so? You don’t want somebody to look at you like that?” she sat up. I looked at her, confused, “I mean, sure?” I shrugged as she raised an eyebrow, “What? I like comedy, I don’t really look at the romance” I added. “Have you ever seen titanic?!” she asked.

“No no no!! You have a mission we have to train for tomorrow, we are not watching a 3 hour movie tonight” I shook my head. “Fine… party pooper!!” she groaned as she returned to her original position. “How long will you be gone for this time?” I asked, returning to play with her hair. “However long Clint needs me for I’d say” she replied. 

After the movie, we cleaned up the living room before Kate walked me to my room. “6am tomorrow morning Kate, be ready!” you said to her as she walked down the hall to her room. “7!” she called back, “6!!” I shook my head to myself before closing my bedroom door. 

The next morning I help Kate train before she left with Clint for her mission. “So clint, how long you taking my best friend for this time” I joked. “Looking like a 2-3 month job kid. Don’t worry, she’ll be fine” he replied. “Oh, it’s not her I’m worried about old man” I joked as he rolled his eyes. 

“We’re watching Titanic when I’m back, you know that right” Kate spoke to me as she entered the conference room. “Really? Do I have too?” I groaned. “Yes!” she smiled. I rolled my eyes playfully at her and then hugged her tightly, “be safe okay” I said softly to her. “Always” she replied, hugging me a little tighter this time. I watched as her and Clint walked out the room. 

Kates POV:

“Let’s go home kid!” Clint spoke as we entered the jet. Finally, the mission is over, I’m tired and score from combat but so ready to make Y/n watch movies with me again and relax. “How’s those feelings for Y/n going?” Clint asked, catching me off guard. “Sorry..what? I don’t.. no…she’s my best friend” I stuttered. Clint chuckled to himself. 

“What?? I don’t. We are just good friends, plus I don’t even think she likes me if I did..like her… and im not saying I do because I don’t.. I mean I do but not like that” 

“Oh boy, you’ve got it bad kid!” Clint looked at me. “Shut up!” I spoke at my defeat. 

“Why don’t you just tell her? Save her from watching Titanic” he laughed.

“I think she’s seeing somebody else…”

“What makes you say that?”

“Her Instagram account…”

“Oh god, Social media is going to fry your brain kid. If she is seeing somebody, she’ll tell you but don’t just assume” 

“I’m not assuming but she did comment the word babe on this woman’s photo” 

Clint rolled his eyes and didn’t reply. 

Once we got back to the compound I went to my room and had a shower before I walked to the living room where I saw Y/n sitting on the sofa, texting. “Hey” I smiled, she looked up from her phone for not even a second, “hey you’re back!” she said, still typing. 

“Yeah…” I sighed. Her attention still glued to the phone in front of her. “So… uhm, do you wanna watch a movie or play a card game or something?” I asked. 

“Yeah sure, whatever you want” she spoke, still glued to her phone. I rolled my eyes in frustration, “actually, I’m kinda tired so I might just go lay down” I explained. “Okay, we’ll do a movie later then” she spoke without looking at me. 

I turned and walked to my room, pashing clint on my way. “Woah, are you okay?” he asked, stopping me in my tracks. “Told you she was seeing somebody” I sighed and continued to my bedroom. 

*2 week time jump*

Y/n’s POV:

“Clint, what happened on your mission a few weeks back with Kate?” I asked him as he sat reading the newspaper. “What do you mean? It went well” he looked up at me. “Well… Kate, she hasn’t been the same since she came back. She’s basically been ignoring me for like 2 weeks. All I get from her is grunts and mumbles” I explained, taking the seat across from him in the kitchen. 

“Ahh, right. Maybe you should talk to her about this” he spoke.

“Did you not just hear me? She won’t talk to me”

“You’re a smart kid, you’ll get through to her. Go talk to her, listen to her mumbles, maybe that’ll tell you something” he explained. With a sigh, I got up from the table and made my way to Kate’s room. 

I knocked gently and waited for her to open the door. 

“Go away, I have a headache” her voice travelled from the inside. 

“Kate…it’s me, please open the door” I spoke. I heard her grunt before the door opened. “What do you want?” she asked. 

“To talk…are you okay?” 

“I’m fine”

“Kate, you’ve been ignoring me for like 2 weeks, you don’t seem fine” 

“I’m not ignoring you, I just want some space”

“Kate. I know something’s wrong… please talk to me, I’m here for you”

“Fine… come in” she sighed as she opened the door for me. I walked in as she closed the door behind me and flopped herself back on her bed. “Did I do something to upset you?” I asked. 

“No.. I mean…not really”

“Not really?” 

Kate sat up and looked at me. “When I came back you basically ignored me, you were too busy texting your new girlfriend and couldn’t even look at me and it just bothered me because…bec- it just bothered me.” She explained. 

“Because why?” I slowly sat down next to her and took her hands into mine, rubbing my thumb over her knuckles gently. “Because I like you…I really like you. I like you the same way I like when you play with my hair and I like you the same way I like pizza on a Friday night and I know you’re seeing somebody so I’m sorry for dumping this on you but-“

“Kate… I’m not seeing anybody” you cut her off.

“You’re not?” she looked up at me with a soft smile, I shook my head softly, “I already like somebody else” you told her. Her smile dropped, “oh” slipped form her lips. “You” I said softly. She looked back at me with her big brown eyes. “You don’t think I notice how you look at me?” I added causing her to smile. “I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting….I wasn’t sure how to tell you and whenever I tried I just got overwhelmed and chickened” she chattered. 

“You fight all these bad dudes and stuff but you couldn’t tell me you liked me? That’s cute” I smiled at her. “When you put it like that…I sound weak almost” she chuckled. “Are you going to chicken out or kiss me already?” I asked. Kate looked at me for a moment then to my lips, slowly she leant in closer. “Nope, I’m going to chicken out” she laughed. “Oh, come here” I cupped her face and kissed her tenderly. 

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[castieltrash1]

I'm desperate for any content with Driver or K, maybe just how'd they treat you as their partner? Love your work!!

driver is a bit of a chameleon boyfriend. he’s used to blending in and attracting as little attention as possible, which extends to his personal life. whatever you’re interested in, so is he. if you like to eat somewhere, he’ll suggest that place every time you mention being hungry. as long as you are happy, that’s all that really matters to him. if you want to plan dates, he’ll follow your schedule down to the second. and if you’re more spontaneous, he’ll have his jacket and car keys nearby to take you wherever you want. 

he’s protective, of course, but he also loves seeing you be successful in whatever endeavors you pursue in life. whether that’s a mundane 9-5 or a niche passion that doesn’t pay the bills, he will cheer you on for every milestone you cross. ideally, he’d take care of you in every way that matters (financially, emotionally, mentally, physically, etc.) but he doesn’t want to stifle you, either. that doesn’t mean he won’t silently fix any of your problems behind your back, though! bitchy manager bothering you? you’ll never believe it, but she switched locations! low on rent? you must’ve forgotten those couple hundred dollar bills you left haphazardly tucked between your mattress! too tired to cook dinner? well, your boyfriend just texted saying he’s off work and would love to grab something and swing by your place to eat!

safe to say, one of his love languages is acts of service. including the ones you don’t know about, he takes care of every problem in your life. he’ll catch every bug, fix every leaky sink, install your new curtains, reconnect your router, change your oil, etc. speaking of cars, if you’re insistent on driving yourself everywhere, driver will check your car every five seconds to make sure it’s safe.

+ driver isn’t big on pda, but if you’ve just arrived or are leaving, he will pout without a kiss hello or goodbye. if you forget (or purposely avoid for the sake of teasing) either, he’ll follow you, grab your wrist, and use his other hand to hold your jaw steady while he kisses you. only then will he smile, let go, and pretend nothing happened.

-

OFFICER K UNDER THE CUT!

k can be insecure, sometimes. he knows it’s already hard enough dating a replicant, but his dangerous job doesn’t make it any easier. all he has to offer you is his plain apartment and the nights he’s not working, neither of which he finds particularly appealing. he’s not really sure why you like him, but he’ll be damned if he gives you any reason to break it off. every second that he can devote to you, he does. 

since he’s out in the city most of the time, k enjoys spending time indoors. of course, if you want to go anywhere while he’s home, he’ll be stuck to your side like glue, glaring at anyone who even gives you a second glance. but, what he loves most of all is curling up beside you and listening to the rainfall. nothing makes him feel more human than doing nothing for the sole purpose of it. he’s made to perform tasks, so there’s something rebellious about enjoying the silence of your apartment, counting each beat of your heart, and feeling the warmth of your skin against the synthetic of his. knowing that he doesn’t have to service you or offer anything for you to want to spend time with him makes him ecstatic.

while k can’t afford lavish gifts or, really, much at all, he does come into contact with a large collection of rare items at work. he’s always excited to bring evidence home since he knows you’ll get a kick out of seeing and touching a real flower or piece of wood. while the scarcity of the item intrigues him, he doesn’t have the same desire to connect to humanity’s past the way you, understandably, do. where he sees just another part of an ongoing case, you see years of ancestry and a forgotten world. secretly, the excited glint in your eyes has started to make him feel something similar.

+ k loves pet names. the first time you called him babe/baby, he stilled and stared at you in shock. he’d heard humans referring to other humans that way, but the names people usually called him were very different. whenever you call him a pet name, he smiles, almost unconsciously. he’s tried every combination of affection terms with you, but his favorites are the personalized ones that he knows no one else ever has or ever will call you. they remind him that, for now, at least, you’re entirely his. when you use them in return, he feels unique, like a human. he feels like he finally has a real name. out of the well-known ones, however, k’s favorites are sweetheart, dear, flower, and pretty. flower and other pet names based on things that are now rare feel especially fitting to him, since someone “as perfect as you is hard to find.”

gosling sleepover sunday

[niyabiblioteca]

nsfw ablpabet: choi yeonjun

A: AFTERCARE

- i feel like yeonjun is the type to go from the most sexy and degrading (if you’re into that) dominant ever to the softest man alive for aftercare. he wouldn’t even take long to get into it because he feels like a minute wasted will make you feel unwanted or used and that’s the last thing he wants. will finish and immediately jump up to clean you up and then cuddle and praise you incessantly afterwards.

B: BODY PART

- yeonjun is definitely a thigh or waist kind of guy to me. i feel like he likes groping your thighs or belly when he gets the chance while fucking the cognitive thought out of you. even when you’re not having sex he can’t keep himself from touching them. he really could die with his head between your thighs and would honestly fuck his hard length between them if given the chance. but of course would get you off right after.

C: CUM

- yeonjun, no matter where his dick actually is during sexy time, will almost always find a way to finish all over your face. he doesn’t even care if it gets in your mouth or not. just seeing your gorgeous face covered in his thick release as you smile adorably back at him is enough to make his knees week. the sight of you looking so happy, blessed even, to receive it even while catching your breath is a sight he could never get tired of. hell, he might bust again just from seeing it.

D: DIRTY SECRET

- yeonjun kinda sorta definitely wants to fuck you in front of an audience. is it a power thing? is it his need to always show out and perform? even he doesn’t know. he just knows that he has thought about spreading you out on the coffee table in the living room and fucking your brains out before the eyes of all his members far too many times than he would ever admit. and it would be even better if his members got as turned on watching as he is imagining it. but alas, unless you bring it up yourself, we will take that to the grave.

E: EXPERIENCE

- yes, i am aware that this may be cliche or whatever, but i definitely think that yeonjun is experienced. i think he’s very well versed in all the ways to make a woman tick in all the right ways and has honed his skills to where he goes into every sexual encounter with unwavering confidence. he’s not shy about it either, i feel. but he’s also not the type to be cocky about it or act as if its a job. he enjoys the experiences just as much as the women seem to and is always happy to properly please.

F: FAVORITE POSITION

- anything that involves intense eye contact. more recently, doggy in front of a mirror. there’s many reasons for this train of thought. number one, those deep seductive fox eyes of his could probably make anyone melt in his hands. you know it, i know it, and in this case, so does he. he loves to see the way your pupils dilate and gloss over every time he pushes into you and especially loves to see your eyes roll back when he brushes against that sensitive spot inside of you. seeing you struggle to hold eye contact is also a huge ego boost as well.

G: GOOFY

- while i don’t think he’s too serious, i don’t think he would be a full blown clown during it. i mean, hes not childish, he understands that it’s sex and sometimes funny things can happen. he has no problem dropping the act to lightly giggle at something that happened, as long as you’re laughing with him too. he doesn’t want to make you embarrassed or uncomfortable because he doesn’t take it that seriously and feels that you shouldn’t either.

H: HAIR

-i think that yeonjun doesn’t really care about how you handle your hair down there. i think he’s definitely big on minding his own business (like a LOT of these people should) and never tries to tell someone what to do with their bodies, even if he is sleeping with them. as for himself, i don’t think he feels that going completely bald is necessary but he does keep it trimmed for maximum comfort on both ends.

I: INTIMACY

-how romantic yeonjun is really depends on the atmosphere and it is so easy for him to adjust. if your intention is to just chase a mind-numbing orgasm that you know he can provide over and over, he’s able to cater to that need and will call you whatever name you please during it. but let’s say you’re feeling down or need some affection, he will definitely become a soft love maker instantly. he wants to make it crystal clear that he loves you and worships your body to make sure that the message gets across.

J: JACK OFF

-i think that yeonjun is the type to rush when it comes to masturbating. while he would usually take his sweet time when ravaging your body like he does so well, he wouldn’t take the same care with himself. he needs to be able to nut and walk out the door, and i feel he has become great at that. i don’t think he needs an ambience or even porn to watch, although he will occasionally. he gives most of his energy when he is intimate with another person.

K: KINK

- yeonjun is totally down for overstimulation (giving and receiving). one one end, he loves to make you shake and quiver after making you cum more times than you even thought you could. nothing gets his blood flowing like seeing your tears build up from the overwhelming sensation (dacryphilia sneak too). but on the other end, if you make him cum with your mouth for instance, but you don’t pull off right away? oh he could combust right then and there. he would probably go so far as to overstimulate himself.

L: LOCATION

-now i personally think that for maximum comfort on both sides, a bedroom is ideal to do anything sexual. but, as i said for him being a bit of an exhibitionist, he wouldn’t be opposed to anywhere public, but not exactly out for everyone to see. so car, fitting room, bathroom, kitchen, and other places people could just walk up and come to.

M: MOTIVATION

- i feel like it isn’t exactly easy to get yeonjun riled up, but he’s not a stone either. sometimes it really depends on the day. some days just you wearing a short skirt will get him as hard as a rock, and other days it might just get an ass grab and a kiss. he doesn’t come off as a brat tamer to me, so i don’t think you acting out will do much either. he’s just a regular guy with regular turn ons.

N: NO

-now because i see yeonjun as a very open-minded person in terms of sex, i don’t think he would have any hard limits. but i will say i don’t think that he would want to be hurt in any way and i feel like he also wouldn’t be too much into pet names (for him). he prefers his name.

O: ORAL

-now i think we as moas can all agree, those lips are poppin. they’re always so soft and plump and moisturized, so he HAS to be good at using em!(my logic is weird but i gotta segue this somehow) i think he knows all the tricks of the trade when it comes to eating pussy. he knows all the techniques of licking and sucking and rubbing and flicking and the whole shabang. he loves going down on you before and after you guys actually fuck. as for receiving, he seems to be the type who doesn’t mind it getting sloppy or messy. in fact, it turns him on even more, and your gags also give him a lil ego boost.

P: PACE

- i personally think that yeonjun enjoys going hard and fast because he wants to get you drooling and cumming as quickly and as much as possible in record time. doesn’t mean he can’t switch it up and go slow or sensual, though. he just feels more comfortable pistoning into you at unforgiving speeds in order to get you making a mess around him.

Q: QUICKIES

-i feel like he would only choose quickies for two reasons: one, because he’s busy as hell and is often booked up but doesn’t want to leave you without any relief at all, and two, because he gets randomly horny in places where you guys can’t exactly take your time, so he decides to be a fuckin jackrabbit about the situation. outside of those two reasons, i don’t see him preferring quickies.

R: RISK

- i hate to keep coming back to the exhibitionist thing, but i just love it so much. unless he realizes that you’re into it too, he will remain 50/50 on doing sexual things in risky places. but if you are into it and let him know, he would probably choose to do risky shit in semi-public places on purpose. he likes to make it into a game: can you be quiet long enough to get us both off and get out of here before anyone notices, or will you ultimately get us banned from wherever the hell we are. and trust me, he’s fine either way.

S: STAMINA

- now one thing about us extroverts, we do not get tired easily. you may find us awake in the wee hours of the morning most of the time. so given that information, i think that he would probably perform without faultering for quite a long time. if he can do so while performing on stage, he can make that translate to the bedroom. as long you’re up for it, he can go all night.

T: TOYS

- i think whether or not yeonjun has toys heavily depends on if he’s in a relationship or not. if not, i doubt he would have one, if any at all. and if he did it would be something simple and mundane like a fleshlight or something. but if he is in a relationship, he would have a drawer designated for toys used between the two of you. i don’t think he would be into bondage so nothing of that nature but definitely some basic vibrators and things like that. i think the most extreme would be a cock ring or nipple clamps or something (the restricting one).

U: UNFAIR

- i think yeonjun can be a little shit when he wants to be. he would do some grimey shit just to get you squirming in your seat occasionally . but then again, just look at him. look at that fucking face. more often than not, he’s not even trying to tease you, it’s just your body working on it’s own. not that he’s complaining of course, it’s all the more fun for him in his book.

V: VOLUME

- yeonjun is a relatively loud person in and out of the bedroom. he knows when to shut up and when he can really let loose. if he’s trying to stay quiet then he would really just breathe heavily and maybe whisper some curses here and there. but if he’s allowed to be as loud as he wants, whew he’s swearing, praising you, degrading you, grunting, and sometimes just little whimpers because he knows how much those turn you on.

W: WILD CARD

-my personal headcannon for yeonjun is that i think he likes to record. not record the actual act of you and him fucking, but just the audio for him to use when he’s away from you and needs some material. your moans and his groans mixed with the heavy breathing and skin slapping and bed creaking all make for a hell of a jerk off session. once he gets permission from you, he would quickly get to work on an illustrious spank bank.

X: X-RAY

- now i’m not gonna be one of those who immediately say they’re fave has a fucking colossal dick because i don’t think he does. not saying it’s small either, but i’m just saying it’s probably average at most. he’s never been insecure about that though, mostly because he prides himself on his “motion of the ocean” and truly hates that whole ideal that big dick equals amazing sex. he is living proof that that is bullshit.

Y: YEARNING

- his sex drive is regular to him but absolutely insane to anyone else. he wakes up, wants to fuck. eats breakfast, wants to fuck. sits in an uber while listening to music, wants to fuck badly. with the way his sex drive is, you’d think he doesn’t get much action at all.

Z: ZZZ

- again, us extroverts don’t get tired easily. he uses that to his advantage when it comes to aftercare. he can do so much for you after the deed that by the time he’s done, you both are sleeping while cuddling together, which he honestly prefers.

————————————————————————

how dare i leave for 2 damn months and come back without a proper fic. anyway, not too much on me please, im a new moa as of a week ago sooo yeah

[larcenywrites]

What are some "husband doing husband things" things that you think Tony would always do? lol

💠Well for one he’s always tapping and touching your butt 🤭 but let’s see 🤔

💠You’d think he’s putting stuff higher up in the pantry on purpose (assuming you’re shorter), but like 80% of the time he legit just does it 😭 he pulled it off the middle shelf, but he just sets it on whatever shelf is eye level with him instead when he puts it back! But he does like it when you ask him to help you out 😌 and also gets to smack your butt again when you’re on the step-stool 😌

💠I’m sure he’s also always leaving the toilet seat up, but when you try to complain he just asks you why you always leave it down 😤😤😤😤😤

💠Cannot resist trying to make dick jokes, or just giving you that look and you know exactly what he’s trying to say. Oh, the doctor said you need vitamin D supplements? You can’t decide which meat to have for dinner? Oh that ones too big? That’s what she said 😏😌

💠But of course he’s also a romantic! Always draping his suit jacket over you when you leave the building and the night is a little cool. Always giving you random kisses to your hand or forehead wherever you are, even if you’re just waiting at the register in like, a Kroger

💠Rarely he forgets to put his ring on when he leaves the house if he’s super busy and in a hurry, and when he suddenly goes to play with it when he’s anxious or bored it’s not there 😐 and he’s freaking the hell out but like, you cannot know that he may or may not have lost it 😐 he’s asking JARVIS if he sees it at the house but he’s absolutely not allowed to let you know he’s looking for it! And when he gets home it’s obvious something is wrong bc he’s trying to make a beeline to a very specific part of the house without even hardly greeting you 😭

💠He also likes to act like he’s never met you in his life when you’re in public. Like, sending you a drink from an admirer from across the bar and it’s actually just him, or if you separated in the store he’ll come back to you acting like a sleazy flirt 🤧 Also calling you Mrs. Stark but then flirtingly taking your hand and being like “oh where’s Mr. Stark?”

💠When you’re cooking in the kitchen, he’ll absolutely distract you so he can sneak a few bites before it’s even ready. And also doesn’t do a very good job at hiding it honestly 🤭 and when you catch him he just tries to feed you too 😭

💠He’s also a horn dog like 24/7. As soon as you finally get in bed, he rolls over to cuddle but immediately starts kissing your neck or hinting not so subtly… even in public! Sometimes you have to pry him off of you!

[royalsweetteaa]

Good intent

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Homeless!Reader

Chapter 1

ONLY 18+ | MINORS DNI

WARNING - This story contains the following: dark & suggesting themes such as kidnapping, non-con, explicit smut, obsessive behavior/possessive behavior/delusional behavior on Ransom’s part, Ransom being a creep in general, unbalanced power dynamic, Stockholm syndrome on reader’s part, classism, size kink, manipulation, angst, a bit of sad!Ransom, eventual fluff.

Ch. | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

Summary: Ransom is going through a mid-life crisis where he’s miserable and he wants to change things up to make his daily life more interesting. The change involves taking the freedom of someone who he deems is beneath societal suitability.

Narrator POV

For the past few weeks, Ransom Drysdale had taken notice of a new piece to his repetitive - and quite frankly, boring pattern of a routine.

Every Saturday evening, he and a couple of his so-called friends, who conveniently only hung out with him on occasions where he felt like wasting a lot of money, would go to the nightclub to get drunk, sometimes snort cocaine given the chance, then go their separate ways to hook up with whores when the evening came to an end.

This used to be Ransom’s highlight of the week, and it still was compared to what he did any other day.

He didn’t do much else at home other than occasionally picking up girls to go on a ride on the Beamer - one of his most precious possessions, to then end up at his house to hot sex. His sex drive had been indefinitely high ever since he started his trust fund of a life style. Being alone in a big house with too much money and no job to keep him occupied had led him to feel lonely, frustrated and lastly concluding - lust.

He used to love the attention he was given by the women who so easily spread their legs for him, but eventually he felt empty from them. Because despite how much they would beg him to use them like they were his personal sextoys in the heat of the moment, he knew deep down they didn’t rely on him as much as he relied on them. They were just as much after a good fuck as him, but as soon as he kicked them out of his house the morning after, they were off doing whatever ‘normal people’ do.

They probably had family, friends,…- he on the other hand was left to ponder on what to do next to entertain himself. He had yet to find that one thing that could bring some sort of stability and could satisfy his thirst for a lifelong entertainment. Getting a job was not one of them, no matter how much he sometimes considered it. He only had to remind himself of how miserable he was the few weeks he worked for Harlan at the publishing company.

No, he wanted something else.

And tonight, he thinks he might have found it.

A young woman had caught his eye each time he drove past the street that led to the nightclub. It was obvious enough that she was homeless, given that he had seen her laying against the wall of an apartment building, snuggling in her sleeping bag - reasonably so because it was the end of October. The nights were only getting colder as winter was right around the corner. She wasn’t wearing anything appropriate for the weather either - a thin jacket with no gloves and a hat barely covering her ears to keep her warm.

Her appearance alone wasn’t something he found eye catching. It was simply how there were rarely, if any homeless people around. This small town was known for people of high class, with the exception of lower classes visiting the area to spend the little extra money they had earned from their minimum wage paying job to have a once in a life time experience in the 5 star restaurants or in the luxurious nightclub. The few homeless people who did end up here would be kicked out days later, due to complaints from the rich of how they were ruining the reputation the town tries to uphold.

Ransom couldn’t stay more neutral on the case as he cared little to nothing about what the town decided to do with the less fortunate - as long as his money and property wasn’t personally affected, it didn’t matter to him.

But for once, he couldn’t help but be a little confused as to how this woman had lasted as long as she had. It had been more than a week, and she still hadn’t moved from her spot. Maybe the people who lived in the apartment didn’t mind her presence, or were too occupied to even notice her. She kept her spot pretty tidy too, making sure to not let any trash she may have to spread out on the pavement. She wasn’t the average homeless man who would beg for a penny either, which led Ransom to assume she had some money to cover a few basic needs but not enough to sleep somewhere.

These thoughts kept him preoccupied while he slowly downed the whiskey he had kept in his hand for the longest time. His friends seemed to take notice of how quiet he was the whole time, and tried to ignite his usual enthusiasm.

“See that chick over there? She’s come all this way from Missouri and I heard she gives the best head. Think it’d be good for you to let off some steam and give it a shot, pal.” One of the guys said smugly and pointed to the blonde who seemed to have already been checking out Ransom as she bit her bottom lip seductively.

Ransom sighed and sunk his shoulders. “Sure, why the fuck not.”

He walked up to the woman with a smirk on his face to keep up the same facade he’s had for a while. They flirted with each other - Ransom commented how her filthy words coming from her mouth was turning him on, though it was hardly the truth, and the woman replied with; “wanna see what other filthy things my mouth can do?”

One thing led to another, and he found himself in the handicap restroom with the woman between his legs sucking him off. It was good, - great even, but he felt nothing. This has been going on and on - he practically knows how the night is going to end and it makes him feel miserable. How would this spiral ever end if he kept on letting it happen?

“Fuck-! Stop, just stop.” Ransom said hastily while pushing the woman off of him. “I can’t fucking do this right now.” The blonde had an offended look on her face, but he paid no mind as he tucked his dick back in his boxers and zipped up his trousers. As he left the restroom he could hear her shout after him “you piece of shit!”

It caught the attention of one of his buddies, and they asked if something went wrong, to which he muttered: “I’m leaving. M’tired of this fuckin’ place.”

None of them bothered to go after him after that. Of course they wouldn’t.

He walked towards his car that was parked only feet away from the nightclub entrance. The little alcohol in his system wasn’t enough to make him not sober, so he was confident to drive home safely. Though, his plan wasn’t to drive straight home even if he tried to convince himself it was all the reason he left early.

Driving closer to the all too familiar street, he scanned alongside the pavement, grinning mischievously when his eyes landed on the mysterious homeless woman.

There she is.

Slowing the car down, he came to a full stop when his car reached alongside her. She seemed to have awoken abruptly from the car’s rumbling engine, and glanced up to be met by the driver’s eyes. His gaze was on her through the whole process of him turning off the engine to him stepping out of his car.

He has never been this close to her, and so he took his time to study her face. Upon a closer look, he found her to be quite pretty. Cute even. Dare he say attractive if it wasn’t for the dust on her cheeks, her greasy hair and fashionably outdated clothes. In a sense, he felt dominant as his tall frame seemed to threaten her. Maybe it was the cold temperature, but he liked to think her sudden stiff composure was because of him.

“What’s your name?” Ransom asked, deciding to finally break the silence.

She gave him a cautious look before mumbling her name. One could easily miss it, but Ransom had sharp ears when he really wanted to listen.

“Y/N, huh..pretty name. Name’s Hugh Drysdale. I live not far from here and have seen you a couple times while driving by. Care to tell me how you ended up here?”

“Why? Do I bother you?” She asked condescendingly.

He frowned, slightly irritated. “No, just wanna know because I might be of help. No need for the attitude.” He said. Ransom surprised himself by saying the word ‘I’ and ‘help’ in the same sentence. Guess there’s a first time for everything.

Y/N’s face softened immediately at the mention of help, lowering her guard. “Oh, I see.. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I just assumed the worst coming from a guy who has just been at a nightclub.”

So she’s noticed me too. Neat. He thought to himself. “Yeah, I go there from time to time but decided to leave early. Didn’t feel up for it today and I’m still sober, which led me to you.” Ransom explained himself. “You were gonna tell me what happened?”

Y/N sighed and lowered her head as though the mere reminder of her life story made her tired. “If you insist….- I got kicked out from my parents’ house two years ago when I turned 18 because they thought it was the perfect opportunity to let me go without legal consequences. I never had a good relationship with them to begin with as I was always seen as a burden than anything else. I then moved in with an ex-friend but it didn’t work out in the long run. Never found a job either which refrained me from finding a place and paying pay rent. I moved around a lot, from state to state. I used to live in my car but eventually had to sell it to have money for food and other things - and that leads me to where I am right now.”

Ransom shook his head, “Damn, you’ve been through a lot. All this time…having to deal with so much on your own. Must have been hard.” He said, leaning against the same wall beside her with his arms crossed. Deep down he scoffed at how little he could relate to her.

The only thing Ransom felt like he could personally relate to was on the topic of having a troubling relationship with parents. Sure, he wasn’t kicked out of his parents’ house without a bank account containing a large sum of money, but he felt the part where he was also unwanted by his parents, - not to mention by his whole family.

They all hated him and saw him as the black sheep of the family. Harlan was more patient with Ransom compared to the rest, since He was still getting his monthly allowance to continue with his foolery. In the end however, he was left by himself, which led him to realize another thing -

She has no one. Just like me.

He looked down at her from where he was standing, taking in how fragile she looked. How small and weak she was compared to him. He has - and could have anything he wanted, while she has nothing. The contrast between them made him feel something he has never felt before.

“Yeah, it sucks...I don’t want you to feel bad for me though. I have been very lucky to not have been robbed or experience…worse things. People seem to be too busy here and haven’t bothered me. It has made my time out here so much easier. I know I’ll find my place once I get out of here.” Y/N said with a smile.

Ransom hummed contently. He liked her voice. He could get used to hearing her talking about anything her heart desired. “…you know, I can tell you’re freezing just by looking at you. It would be inhumane of me to leave you here for another night. I have a spare guest room and a bathroom you could use for as much as you’d like, till you…figure out where to go from there I guess.”

She looked up at him with doe eyes that made his mind go wild with scenarios - most of them being in a sexual manner. Her in his arms as he kissed her and made her go down on her knees, looking at him with those same eyes while she sucked his-

“Oh, I really appreciate the offer Hugh, but I really don’t need your help. As of tomorrow early, I’ll be on my way to Pennsylvania where I have been offered a place.-“

The fuck?

“Its a shelter for the homeless youth, and the bus I’m taking goes in about…” she checks her watch for a brief moment. It was currently midnight. “..six hours, so I think I’ll do just fine until then. It’s exclusively on its way to where I need to be and it’d be a disaster if I missed it.” She said and chuckled to herself at the mere thought. “But like I said, it was nice of you to-!”

Before she finished her sentence, Ransom straightened his posture, moved away from the wall without sparing her a glance and walked towards his car. The car door was swung open and he slammed it closed once he was behind the wheel. Within seconds, he was back on the main road and drove his way home. His grip on the steering wheel was tight. He was trying to remain calm but he was bad at it. Thoughts and questions were irking him up even more as he got closer to his house.

SHE doesn’t NEED my help? Who the fuck did she think she was talking to? The CEO of charity case? Get the fuck out of here.

Can’t believe she’s picking a fucking homeless shelter over my offer. Ungrateful cunt. Guess she thrives on living in a shithole.

She’s a nobody. She’s nothing. She’s below what is considered a decent member of society, and yet -

she doesn’t need me.

Ransom was fueled with anger at this point. His ego was painfully bruised. He has never offered someone like her any type of service, and when he does for the first time, he’s rejected.

Furthermore, he found himself disappointed that he thought this would go somewhere. He fantasized that if she accepted, he could give her everything and she would see him as her savior from a pitiful life. And in return, he would have her as his thing. The thing that would provide him a satisfactory life. He wanted to be the only reason for her entire livelihood and her to be nothing without him. The mere thought aroused him and made him realize how sick he was, but he didn’t care. He had seen her face and it was enough for him to be sure that he wants that with her. A nobody that had nothing other than him - Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

So what’s stopping him? Who said he had to leave it at her meek rejection? His inner thoughts asked.

It was then when he decided. He was going to get her for his own pleasure, and add good intent to it.

Ransom had taken a few shots at home to calm his nerves while plotting the unthinkable inside his head.

He has had many sinister thoughts in the past during desperate times, but he never acted upon them as he always found a way around it. This time wasn’t like those other times though. It felt like a higher calling was telling him that he had to take action or else he would miss what’s right in front of him. His ticket out of a miserable spiral.

It was 02:30 in the morning, and after taking in careful consideration, he backs out of his driveway and drives downtown once again. A handkerchief and a bottle of chloroform is neatly placed on the passenger seat.

The party at the nightclub had died down by now, and most people had departed. All the lights except for the head lights were off across the whole street where Y/N was resting. She was slotted in the dark between two head lights and could barely be seen from a distance. This was a huge advantage on Ransom’s part. He parked the Beamer a little further away not to wake her. Only for a few minutes did he wait to be sure it was the right time to approach.

He picked up the bottle of chloroform, holding it away from his face as much as possible while opening it and making the handkerchief ready for use. A few drops of sweat had appeared on his forehead, probably from nervousness. This has to go as swiftly as possible or I’m out of luck.

With quiet steps he approached her, with the handkerchief sprayed with a dose of the drug in his hand.

When he was close enough, he shoved the handkerchief onto Y/N’s nose and mouth, holding her body down with his other hand causing her whole body to jolt awake, her eyes wide open and whimpering out of distress. She tried to resist and push him off but her strength was quickly drained from the drug and her eyes twitched, trying to have them remain open.

“Shhhh, it’s alright sweetheart, go back to sleep..” he cooed. Her body started to slump downwards to the ground again, but he held her back steadily and lifted her up with both of his arms. She was completely knocked out, and while he cautiously looked around for any witnesses - only to see none, he hooked her backpack on his arm with her and rushed back to the Beamer, putting her in the passenger seat. He left her sleeping bag behind, secretly hoping that It’ll add fuel to the fire and piss some people off that a homeless person had left their stuff behind like many times before.

While driving back, Ransom took quick glances at the woman he had taken while still maintaining concentration to the road. His thumb reached out to her cheek and he attempted to smear off the dust, unsuccessfully doing so.

“Don’t worry, kitten. We’ll get you all cleaned up.” He mumbled, more to himself than to her.

He laid her body in the guest room and gathered supplies for her to use in the morning. Towels, bottles of shampoo with different fragrances, a deodorant, toothpaste and a toothbrush - everything a person would need. He knew he would have to buy clothes for her too, but he wouldn’t be able to do that until tomorrow. She can wear his clothes in the meantime.

He had these extra supplies stored after his mother complained relentlessly on how little personalized the guest room was. He would argue that the extra stash was useless because he wouldn’t have any guests over in the near future.

Guess he could finally admit he was wrong. Those silly soaps with different scents would come to great use in the hands of Y/N. Or maybe in the use of his own hands roaming around her body.

While he expected her to clean herself by her own when the morning arose, he figured he could do the easy task of cleaning her face.

Fetching a clean cloak and soaking it up in semi hot water, he brought it to Y/N’s face, gently rubbing at the spots where the dust had stained her skin. He touched her hair out of curiosity and leaned in to smell if she had any odor.

He smelled something that he couldn’t quite pinpoint, and upon closer look he noticed her roots were stained with a tint of white. He put one and one together - she had been using baby powder to keep her hair from turning greasy and smelly after assumingely going weeks off washing her hair. Poor little thing, he thought. And she thought she would be better off at a shelter than be with me. As if that would make her life any better. How pathetic.

In a less discreet way, he removed her jacket and unbuttoned her shirt to remove her bra. The countless of women that have been over at his place would always complain leaving their bras on for the whole night, leaving their breasts sore from the restraint. With this knowledge, he had an excuse to take a peek at her breasts.

Once Ransom figured out how to remove the straps, he was met by two perky nipples staring right back at him. His mouth watered at the sight. He felt the restraint of his trousers tightening.

Less than 24 hours ago, he could be found having a threesome with two prostitutes in his king sized bed - yet, this somehow made him more easily riled up compared to the last several intercourses he has had.

His hand reached out to squeeze one of her tits. They were so soft. So beautiful. His other hand reached to his bulge, palming it with slow strokes. His breath hitched and he abruptly stopped both acts.

Fuck, get it together, Ransom. There will be a time to have her, but that will have to be after she has showered.

Buttoning her shirt back together and taking her bra with him to the dirty laundry basket, he left the guest room and went straight to his bedroom.

Through his wardrobe of clothes was an access control panel controlling the level of security he wanted the house to be on. Most doors and openable windows relied on the level of security the control panel was set to. In this case scenario, Ransom had now maximized the level of security - meaning all windows were now completely sealed and all doors leading outside would remain locked at all times - unless he typed in the code. That way, Y/N would be free to roam around the house without him being worried she might run away. The system was secured enough for her to never figure out the code. His house had large glass exterior, but thankfully there were blenders to block the outside world.

He didn’t have to worry about passerby’s seeing Y/N when he wasn’t around to keep her in check. There were hardly any people around where he lived, but he didn’t want to risk it.

He did have a basement he could put her in as well, but that would be too cruel. After all, he’s not a monster. He only has good intentions, even though some of them may be morally questionable.

Finally tucking himself into bed, he kept a smirk on his face as he let his eyes finally rest. The morning excited him. He was prepared that Y/N would be defensive and show resistance, but he was determined to put her in her place and make her see his way. -

Make her realize she needs him, make her crave him for his riches and understand that only through him she can be a somebody.

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3

[n0tangeliccc]

Little things with Kyle Broflovski♡

Kyle x gn!reader

Warning: none, just some good old fluff

A/N: Really need some fluff rn, since yesterday my week has started to get really shit lol (maybe this was a little self indulgent) also I’m so sorry for not posting these past few days

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧˖°.

- Kyle always notices how when you hyper focus on something you’ll forget to take care of yourself and he makes it his job to help you

- Whether that be helping you with whatever you’re doing, cooking for you, or reminding you to take breaks he’s always there for you

- Sometimes when he notices you’re really stressed he’ll take off his hat and let you play with his hair🤭

- Doesn’t really like PDA (mostly because he gets flustered easily) but he’ll sneak kisses with you

- He’ll also interlock your pinkies together because he worries his hands are too sweaty lmao

- So embarrassed to admit it but when he you two started dating he would not shut up about you and he went on a long ramble about you to Sheila (she thought it was adorable)

- Thinks it’s so fucking adorable when you play with Ike (he lowkey gets jealous because you should be paying attention to him hello??) makes him day dream about a future with you🥹

- Side note Sheila absolutely loves you and invites you over all the time to talk and drink tea with her!

- Sometimes he’ll just stare at you with hearts in his eyes and if catch him he’ll all shy about it and say something like “You’re just so pretty sweetheart, I can’t help it”

- This man jumps with excitement every time he sees you text him and will almost always text you back immediately after

- Takes pride in you wearing his letterman jacket around or any of his clothes in general but mainly his jacket because everyone can see his name on it

- Also makes you wear it to all of his games

- Good luck kisses, whether it be for a game or big test or a important presentation good luck kisses are a must for Kyle

- Kyle’s pretty insecure about his looks so anytime you compliment him he’ll get instant butterflies in his stomach and his face will get all red

- Loves cuddling, he’ll almost always be the big spoon

- Forehead kisses from him!!!

- He’s just completely head over heels for you💞

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧˖°.

Think I might do this with the rest of the guys 🫶

[badchoicesworld]

Helloo! Would you be willing to write a Hobie x Spider!reader, gender neutral? Maybe there's a big fight or something, and Hobie just adoringly watches his s/o take down villains before joining in? Up to you, just spewing the thought! Feel free to ignore this, have a nice rest of your day!

hobie admires your fighting spirit

RAAHH thank you, hope your day is going well too :] hope this met your standards !

established relationship ❤️‍🔥

warnings: none

hobie brown x gn!reader

requests: open ! pleasepleasepleaseplea

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

so this can be interpreted however you like, maybe miguel sent you two out on a mission or you two are just out doing spidey-things when you come across some baddies that need a beat down

doesn’t matter how you got there, you and hobie are now choreographing a smack down with a bunch of scallywags

he’ll take the ones on that side, you’ll take the ones over there- easy peasy lemon squeezy, yeah ?

anyway, bing bang boom commences and despite being a little distance apart now, you’re still calling out to each other and probably discussing dinner over each wallop

i imagine hobie has the throatiest laughs for no damn reason so you’re occasionally hearing that from a distance whenever someone cracks a zinger or smthn

Hobie finishes his little dance w the baddies first and now his guitar needs retuning, but it means he gets front row seats to your own fight (tried so hard to think of a better word for fight that i haven’t already used)

mans is so enthralled by you when he swings over

can either be found sitting on the top of a car a short distance away or leaning on some kind of surface while he lets you go ape on these guys

is hiding the most snarky grin but loving eyes behind that mask

watching you swing from place to place, forcing your fist down on someone’s skull before using your enhanced agility to drive your elbow into the next guy- he’d never say it out loud but he’s absolutely entranced by all this

seeing you being all independent and protecting yourself, fighting so well and in such a fluent way, spider-people don’t feel real sometimes with what they can achieve

he’s so smitten by you. watching to be funny turns into this silent adoration while he watches you in your element

labels are restricting but there’s also no other way for him to put into words how he feels about you, so he’s just fucking glad he can call you his partner

if you catch him just watching by the sidelines and ask/demand for his help, it’ll snap him out of his trance

he’ll insist you’ve got it

lifts those lanky ass hands up all defensively and is like “Nah, love, you’ve got it!” you can hear his grin.

his body kinda drapes over whatever his been leaning on the whole time while watching you, he’s just so chill

keeps watching for just a liittle bit longer before swinging in to save the day, he’d never actually deprive his partner of his support

is absolutely cheeky abt it though, saying things like “ay, what can i say? i’m just that good.” “you really can’t live without me,” “no worries love, i’ve got you.”

2vswhatever-the-fuck seems about fair, so you finish the job a lot quicker together, but you did a number on the guys you did take out

if you’re feeling a little insecure by needing his help, hobie’s on it

“nah. you did good, love.” while slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you into one of those side hugs

probably nudging where his lips would be under his mask against the top of your head before swinging off, proposing a race while he has a head start

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

ug so sorry this is kinda short

[tartigglez]

"i know it hurts..."

headcanons of some genshin boys when you have your period (pt.1??)

kaeya, diluc, thoma, childe, zhongli (separately) x afab!reader (pronouns not mentioned)

genre: fluff

word count: 800-ish

tags: periods, no distinct mention of blood, wholesome boys (for the most part), a lottttt of physical touch + petnames, kaeya is teehee, diluc is clueless as shit, thoma is absolutely whipped, childe is also clueless, zhongli is wayyyyy clued in

tw/cw: zhongli is written as genderfluid, mentions of foods/drink (soup + tea), kisses in zhongli's, i don't think there's much else to add here, lmk if i missed smth

a/n: surprise? hi! i've had a very emotional night, so its time for something extremely self indulgent. i wrote this mostly for the genderfluid zhongli agenda. also i'd like to remind everyone that i am genderfluid, my pronouns are they/she/he!!! ty, enjoy.

kaeya’s personality seems to go through some sort of shift when you’re on your period, seriously! he’ll go from being a flirty, unserious captain with an eye catching smirk to a kind, gentle, soft spoken man. he will quietly hold you if you’re in pain, and try his best to distract you. will kiss you softly and assure you that it will pass, without ever making you feel like you’re exaggerating. strokes your cheek and does whatever you want to do in order to stay distracted. 

“darling? are you alright? are you sick?”

“no, just cramps.”

“ahh, here.”

“how does this feel? you okay? comfy?”

“yeah, I’m okay. thanks kae”

“not a problem at all, lovely”

“so, how was work? 

diluc is lowkey confused at first in your relationship. he’s never spent much time around anyone who has a period, let alone having to live with one, so it makes sense (a little) that he really doesn’t understand anything that’s happening to you, or what hurts, or why, or how he can help. the first time he finds you curled up in his bedroom in dawn winery he’ll be really confused and awkward, run to adelinde and try to very discreetly ask her what to do (he doesn’t do a good job), but eventually she gets what he means, and tells him to just ask you, which he builds the confidence to do after hyping himself up for like twenty minutes.

“hi”

“hi, 'luc”

“uh… are you okay?”

“ish?”

“uhm… may i talk to you about something?”

“yeah, of course! what’s up?”

“what is… happening to you right now? it’s painful, i know, but how do i help? what do i do? what do you need? how can i make you comfortable? i don’t want you to be in pain.”

“pah, how sweet. come, sit, i’ll explain”

thoma knows exactly what is going on, and when its going on. keeps track of your periods (with your knowledge and consent ofc) just so he knows what days to bring you whatever you may need. he’s a BIG BIG acts of service and gift giving kinda guy, because he’s always in the city, so he always picks things up for you. this happens even more when you’re on your period. of course, sometimes, his estimates of your starting days will be a little bit off, so he might end up randomly doing something and it seems like its out of nowhere, and he tries to play it off like it is too. 

“thoma? what’re you doing home this early?”

“oh, I thought i’d come home and make you soup!”

“make me… soup? that’s a little strange…”

“no it’s not! it's just because i thought you liked it, especially when…y’know”

“hah, your guess was off darling, you’re two days early. still, i appreciate the thought love. let’s eat?”

childe is clueless. extremely clueless. but he’s also super duper sweet, and a very fast learner. he tries his best to understand what’s happening and what to do, but unfortunately he doesn’t really have anyone to ask about it. so he’ll literally read a book, which is rather rare for him but he would literally do anything for you. if you’re feeling really unwell, he will insist on taking the day off work to look after you. he’s extremely attentive and gentle, which is the side of him his “co-workers” don’t get to see. 

“morning baby! how’re you feeling?”

“mmhh,, morning chi. ‘m okay, a bit crampy”

“okay, i’ll stay here then.”

“what? no, you have work. you gotta go!”

“i’ll call in sick, they can live without me for a day”

“chi you can’t do this agai-”

“i’d do anything for you”

zhongli. understands. everything. okay hear me out. zhongli can take any form he wants, so sometimes out of curiosity he would change into another body. he’d get completely, utterly shocked the first time he got a period whilst in this form (it was unexpected.), but learned how to cope with it, because he wanted to be able to fully understand the struggles that some mortals might go through.

he knows exactly what to do when this happens to you, speaks to you calmly and holds you if you get cramps. will brew tea for you, and get the latest herb combinations for pain relief from baizhu. will snuggle up to you, place his hand on your stomach because it’s warm, and hold you close. kisses your neck gently and asks if you need anything, overall just a big sweetie. if you want him to, he’ll go into his half-dragon form, so he can wrap his tail around you. loves you more than anything and will do anything to make you comfortable. you need something? it’s yours, no matter the extremes he has to go to in order to get it. constantly making sure you take your time with everything, and making sure that you don’t overexert yourself.

“my love, i know you’re in pain, please don’t push yourself”

“i know, i know, i just have a little more work to do”

“i trust you, but i’m staying here with you, just in case. have you eaten? are you comfortable? do you need any pain relief?”

[ladykailitha]

If I Rescue You, Will You Rescue Me, Too? Part 10

The boys spend their day in Indy just having fun and getting to know each other a bit. Also what happens to Steve at the thrift shop actually happened to my husband. He and a group of friends went to a thrift store to find the wildest outfit they could put together and my husband’s outfit shouldn’t have worked, but did.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3  Part 4 Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8 Part 9

*

Steve pulled away from the hotel parking lot and looked over at Eddie. “You ready for the only portion of this shindig that I’m paying for?”

Eddie laughed. “I still worry about breaking your bank, Stevie.”

“I’m using my dad’s ‘emergency’ credit card for this, sunshine,” Steve replied. “And if asked, I’ll just tell him that the earthquake caused minor damage to the house.”

“Steven Alexander Harrington are you committing fraud?” Eddie asked all wide-eyed with mocking shock.

“One, how the fuck do you know my full name?” Steve asked. “And two, it’s only fraud if my father didn’t authorize my use of the card, which he did. Regardless of what the use is for, I can’t commit fraud.”

Eddie laughed. “It was on your medical leave forms. I may have had Robin peek while you were still out from dehydration and low blood sugar. Something I still need to kick your ass for by the way.”

Steve snorted. “Traitors. The both of you. And until you can catch me, sunshine, I think I’ll be fine in the ass kicking department.”

Eddie pouted.

Steve reached out and stroked his cheek. “Did anyone tell you, you have the most beautiful eyes ever?”

Eddie leaned into the touch. “Not usually. Mostly they’ve been called dirty or muddy. Though, I do recall my mother calling them chocolate buttons, but that’s more cute, than beautiful.”

Steve dared to take his eyes off the road for a brief second to smile fondly at him. He turned back to the road. “You are by far the most amazing person I have ever met. But if we’re being honest, I think I was attracted to you before the Upside Down bullshit.”

“Right back ‘atcha, big boy,” Eddie teased.

They pulled up to the first thrift store and it was closed.

“Stupid places being run by religious nut jobs,” Steve groused on their way back to the car. “Don’t these assholes realize that poor people don’t work nine to five?”

Eddie shook his head. “And what would you know about that?”

Steve looked over at him confused. “You do realize that I have a held down a minimum wage job for the last year, right?”

Eddie frowned. “But why? You have access to your dad’s credit cards. Why work if you don’t have to?”

Steve buried his hands into his jeans’ pockets and leaned up against the door of the car. “Until I turned eighteen I was given an allowance to do whatever the fuck I wanted. Usually beer and weed. But when I didn’t graduate top of my class to get into all those fancy schools, they cut me off. The credit card I have access to is for ‘emergencies only’. And paying the house bills.” He cocked his head to the side. “And for making sure I continue to look the part of their dutiful son.” He waved at his clothes.

“But I decided to say ‘fuck it’, you know,” he continued. “Since I’ve turned eighteen I don’t think they’ve stayed in that house more than a week or two at most. And that’s total, not at a time.” He kicked at the pavement scuffing his sneaker. “If they can’t be bothered to come running home when the god damn earthquake was on the national news, then I’m going to go hog wild. I’m going to have fun and give the best, bravest boy a day of fun. Because he deserves it. Because I deserve to give it to him.”

Eddie pulled Steve into a hug. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Sometimes I forget that I’m not a mind reader and can’t actually know what goes on behind closed doors.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist and buried his head into his shoulder. “I just hate that even the people closest to me still apologize for me being a dick in high school or act like I haven’t changed. Like when Nancy and Robin picked me up from the hospital they were teasing me about me about something that Robin thought was misogynistic but it wasn’t. But they acted like they expected me to be. Just because of that’s how I would have been in high school.”

Eddie rubbed Steve’s back. “Maybe it’s because I’ve had time away from you since high school I can see that you’ve changed. You call me brave. But honey, I only did what I had to to save Dustin. But you? Darling, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but most people don’t literally put their bodies on the line for people that hurt them.” He leaned back so that he could see Steve’s face. He reached up and cupped his cheek. “People unconnected to them via blood ties. You and Robin could have walked away at any time. And probably should have after being tortured. But you didn’t. You stuck around. You fought against the toughest bad guy even in fantasy terms and you still stuck around. And that’s worthy of praise in my book.”

Steve let out a sigh and nodded. Eddie pressed their lips together.

“Come on,” he said, pushing Steve to the side so that he could open the door for him. “There must be thrift shop not run by poor people hating bastards.”

Steve laughed and got into the car.

Eddie hurried to the passenger side and pointed at the road. “Tally ho!”

Steve just shook his head and did as he was bid.

*

The next shop was open and while they were looking for band shirts, they also decided to see who could come up with the tackiest, most horrifically colored monstrosity of an outfit.

Eddie won. Even though Steve had picked outrageous colors, wild patterns, and a mishmash of styles when he put it all together, it looked good. Eddie laughed so hard.

“I don’t know what happened,” Steve whined.

Eddie looked around before pulling him close. “I do. You just have this perfect sense of style that even when it’s supposed to be awful, you make it look good.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “I guess so. I wish I brought a camera to take a picture of this, so we can show them back home.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up. “I’ll be right back!” He took off like a shot running around the shop like a gremlin. He came back a few minutes later with an ancient looking Polaroid camera.

He took a couple of pictures of Steve in different poses and then had Steve do the same with him.

They paid for their purchases. Eddie having found and bought the camera at the thrift shop. What had taken the time was finding film for it.

They went out for lunch and Eddie took a picture of the two of them at the restaurant, smiling into the camera.

Eddie took Steve to his favorite record store. They wandered around and abused each of their music tastes. But they both agreed that Depeche Mode brought something new and interesting to the genre. So Steve bought “Black Celebration” on cassette for the ride home.

Eddie looked up at the guitars longingly.

“Wayne told me that he was only able to find your acoustic,” Steve said softly, “but not the Warlock after the earthquake.”

Eddie nodded. “I think it was because it got destroyed in the Upside Down, it didn’t exist in the Top Side anymore.”

Steve gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Eds.”

Eddie nodded and they left soon after.

*

They palled around Indy for a bit. Taking in the sites and just giggling like school children.

They headed back to hotel to shower and change for dinner.

As they opened the door to the hotel room, Eddie said, “You don’t have some other mega star going to meet us for dinner, do you?”

Steve laughed. “Not for dinner, no.”

Eddie eyed him suspiciously. “What do you mean not for dinner? Does that mean Ozzy was the only super star or does that mean I’m meeting someone else later?”

Steve just grabbed his bag and ducked into the bathroom without saying a word.

He just took a short shower and got out quickly. He came back out to see Eddie rummaging around a large black gift bag.

“Ozzy’s team finally delivered,” Eddie said. “You have one, too.”

Steve walked up to the bag that was on the fancy side table near the door. There was a tag that said, “For Steve, the guard dog.”

He just shook his head and took it over to the bed to look through what he got. There were a couple of tour shirts and some cassettes. A signed tour poster. At the bottom of the bag were two small boxes. There was a little note attached to the largest of the two boxes.

“Every good guard dog needs cool sunglasses.” Steve opened it up and on the inside of the top of the box was some designer from England that he only vaguely recognized because his mother had gone on and on about them the last time she was home. The glasses weren’t round like Ozzy’s but they weren’t sharp like Steve’s.

They looked like the guy in the suit’s sunglasses. Carefully crafted to cover the whole eye and rest comfortably on the bridge of his nose. He put them on and holy hell. He could see clearly but through the tint of the glass. They were far superior to fancy sunglasses he bought.

Eddie whistled. “Looking good, Stevie.” He saw the other box. “What’s in that?”

Steve looked down at the smaller box in confusion. “I don’t know yet.” He opened the lid and gasped. It was a simple necklace with a single red crystal hanging from it. The crystal shimmered like a flame.

“Wow,” Eddie murmured. “You’re wearing that tonight, yes?”

Steve could only nod. Not wearing it would feel like he was insulting Ozzy’s tastes or rather his wife’s Sharon’s. But also because it was beautiful in and of itself.

“You think it’s safe for me to take a bath or no?” Eddie asked as he stood up up from the bed.

Steve looked at his watch. “I’d wait until we get back tonight. We still have eat and get into our clothes for the concert.”

Eddie nodded. He got a quick shower and was back out in minutes. They put on clothes similar to the night before, with just the dinner jacket the same.

Steve kissed Eddie sweetly on the lips and Eddie hummed happily.

“This trip just keeps getting better and better, sweetheart,” he said, resting his forehead against Steve’s.

“It isn’t over with yet,” Steve promised. “There is so much more coming. So so much more.”

Eddie sighed. “You are too good to me, baby.”

Steve kissed him again. “I’m really not. It’s the perfect level of awesome for you.”

“But too good for Dustin, right?” Eddie teased, reminding Steve of what he said at the hospital.

“Taking him to Indy for the weekend would have been too good for the butthead,” Steve deadpanned.

Eddie burst out laughing. “That’s certainly true.”

Part 11  Part 12 Part 13 Part 14  Part 15 Part 16 Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20

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[glcnpowell]

post tgm mavdad drabble? or maybe mavdad throughout the years drabble from getting along to fighting to back again

The question is one that’s bounced around Maverick’s head for months now, but he doesn’t let it slip until six months after the mission.

He’s on the patio at the Hard Deck, stretched out in one of the chairs with Bradley seated next to him. Maverick isn’t sure how long they’ve been there, catching up and trading stories after Bradley’s latest deployment – just knows it’s long enough that his back is protesting against the wood of the chairs and his skin feels pleasantly warm from the setting sun and his rum-induced buzz.

Rooster’s talking about something that happened in college, hands moving as he laughs through the story, and Maverick can’t help but laugh along. It’s infectious, hearing Bradley’s laughter again after all of these years.

A little miraculous, too.

When Bradley finishes the story and settles back in his seat, he scratches absently at his cheek and Maverick’s gaze zeroes in on the thin lines there.

“What are the scars from?”

He realizes, about a beat after Bradley does, what he’s said. Immediately, he straightens in his seat a bit and tries to deflect, but Bradley’s already waving a hand.

“S’okay, Mav,” he assures him. “Car accident my senior year. Friend was driving. We both got a little scraped up, but we were okay. Not a big deal.”

Maverick swallows, forcing himself to keep his eyes trained on the ocean. “Not a big deal,” he repeats, snorting out a humorless laugh. “I never knew you were – Christ. What if something worse had happened, and I didn’t…”

“Mav. Stop.”

When Maverick looks over, Bradley’s shaking his head, staring out at the ocean the same way Maverick was moments before. Bradley takes a breath and then tips his head, smiling a little as he says, “Even if you had found out? If you’d shown up at my apartment to check in on me or whatever you’re thinkin’ right now? I’d have told you to leave. I wouldn’t have wanted you there. You know that.”

And Maverick does know that. They weren’t talking back then. Maverick did his best to keep tabs on how Bradley was doing, but he’s always felt like he could’ve done a better job. Like he should have done a better job. This just feels like added proof.

“Still,” Mav starts, jaw clicking when he pauses. “It’s just. I forget sometimes, y’know? I forget how long we went without talking. Doesn’t seem possible.”

“That’s because you’ve got a million lives,” Bradley says dryly, knocking his boot against Maverick’s, “so time doesn’t work the same for you.”

Maverick snorts, rolling his eyes. “Hilarious.”

Bradley laughs quietly. “We’re talking now, Mav. That’s the important thing.”

“Yeah,” Maverick agrees. “It is. You’re right.”

After a moment, Bradley sighs, “But you’re still gonna apologize to me.”

“Yep,” Maverick says immediately, nodding. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, kid.”

“Apology not necessary, man. For the millionth time,” Bradley laughs. Then, his voice softer – “But thanks. For the millionth time.”