#asks and requests are needed and appreciated

[nanamisgirly]

hey gorgjus, I have a request 😛

Lads men when reader is ovulating and all she wants to do is..well her man. Doesn’t matter where or when she’s just super needy for multiple rounds to the point where maybe even they’re a bit shocked, but up for the challenge~ ofc u don’t have to but I’d die if u did 🤭💕

୨୧ — a/n HIIII it took me so long to write, I was turned on each time HELPPPP, anyway I gave my whole hope you will enjoy!! ALSO sorry I yapped so much (as per usual 😔), COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED MA GIRLIIIIES <3333 (especially comments I love talking to you 💋)

୨୧ — FEAT bestfriend!Caleb, boyfriend!guitarist!Xavier (have the vision IT'S CANON IDCCC), boyfriend!Rafayel (day at the beach), boyfriend!Zayne (grinding on him), boyfriend!Sylus (on mission duuuh) x fem!reader

୨୧ — cw multiple position (prone bone, matting press, cowgirl,..), cumplay, rough & messy sex, degrading (calling her a whore, needy), praise, pet name, p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink in Caleb, creampied, cumming dry, oral sex (Caleb giving, Rafayel receiving), squirting in Caleb, cumming on face in Caleb, size kink, big stretch, big cock, masturbation, semi-voyeurism (Xavier, Rafayel, Sylus), Caleb just won't shut up, unashamed reader, fighting for dominance, sub Rafayel, Sylus is down bad for her, mean Zayne, teasing, belly bulge (Xavier), lot of spit and drool, overstimulated reader and men!, they do moan bc as long as I live my men WILL moan!

𓂃۶ৎ CALEB

Caleb is sprawled out beside you on the couch, legs widely open, one ankle resting lazily on the edge of the coffee table. His thighs are stretching the grey fabric of his sweatpants, making your case much worse and making you impossible to focus on the movie playing on the TV.

And the way his hoodie is pushed up to show those big veiny forearms, golden skin stretched on muscles…

You shake your head, trying to stop the thoughts, you’re his best friend for fuck’s sake. You’re supposed to be watching a movie and maybe eating popcorn, not fantasizing about straddling him and grinding against his muscular thigh. You’re not supposed to salivate for the bushy happy trail picking under his ridden-up hoodie.

It’s useless…your skin is so hot, your pulse is thudding behind your ears, and you’re so wet it’s uncomfortable how your pantie is clinging to you. 

“You okay?” he asks, as he saw you shift for the nth time. 

And it’s unfair, unfair how pretty his face is. Soft, boyish lips, tenting you, with a stubble he didn’t bother shaving this morning making you wonder how it’d feel between your legs. And no need to talk about his big round purple eyes, making you go insane. 

“yeah” you say standing way too fast. “I just…don’t feel well. Gonna head to bed early.”

“Oh…” he blinks those giant puppy eyes at you, making you grow wetter. “Okay. Do you need anything?” 

“No, don’t worry. See you tomorrow.”

“Alright. Sleep tight, babe.” His follows you with big concerned eyes. 

Babe.

Babe?!

You swear you’re about to slam your head against the wall. Why is he making everything so hard? Your pussy is pulsing, in need. So in need to be stuffed it actually hurt.

It’s unbearable.

And really, is it wrong to take matters into your own hands?

To grab that big, veiny dildo you keep stashed in your bedside drawer and sink it into your dripping cunt while your best friend sits just meters away in the other room?

Is it really wrong to tweak your nipple with your free hand, imagining it’s his rough palm twisting and tugging, his voice in your ear telling you how tight and messy you are for him?

You gasp as you push it in, slow at first, then desperate. You’re already soaked and your walls clench around the toy greedily. Your eyes flutter shut, jaw slack, hips lifting off the bed as you start to fuck yourself faster, harder.

And all you have in your mind is Caleb. His purple eyes, his strong and big body that could easily manhandle you—roughly. 

You moan—loud, unashamed—and arch off the bed, back taut, lips parted as the waves build fast and wild.

You don’t hear the door creak open.

Not until—

“I keep hearing you making noises, I’m worried you—”

You freeze—only for a second—when your eyes, heavy and glassy, blink toward the doorway.

Caleb is frozen mid-step, one hand on the doorknob, his brows dawn in confusion that melts into something darker. His mouth parts, his eyes drop to the way your legs are spread, how your hand is working that dildo inside you like you need it to breathe.

But at this point? You truly don’t care. Your hips keep jerking, desperate and out of control, slick coating your thighs in glossy streaks. Your gaze meets his—blurry with tears of frustration—and you let out the most fragile, needy whine.

He doesn’t move, he simply stares—like he’s watching the holiest, dirtiest thing he’s ever seen. You can only see his chest rises and falls, nostrils flaring.

His eyes drop to the soaked sheets, the obscene squelch of the toy still buried between your legs and your fucked-out eyes begging him to do something are driving him into oblivion. His cock already hard and painful.

“you’re fucking yourself…” his voice is low, “lying in here whining for me like that. Thought you were sick.”

You watch as he approaches—slow at first, like he’s afraid the dream will vanish—before he kneels at the edge of the bed. He grabs your wrist, almost gently, and yanks the toy from your cunt with a wet, messy pop. You keen at the loss, hips bucking, slick spilling onto the sheets. 

“You needed this bad, huh? So bad you couldn’t ask me? So bad you were ashamed to sit next to me on the couch?”

You can’t answer—just nod through the haze, cheeks flushedyour walls clenching around nothing, feeling so empty it hurts.

His gaze drops to your empty hole and how your hips keep twitching.

“Are you in heat or something?” his eyes are still fixated on your cunt, almost like he’s talking to her. “You smell like it. Like you’re ready to be bred.”

You whimper, spreading your legs wider, offering yourself. “Caleb... Fuck, do something ���bout it. I can’t... it’s too empty... I need—I need—"

That’s all it takes.

Caleb lunges, hands bruising on your thighs as he pulls you down to the edge of the bed. 

“fuckin’ hell.” He buries his face between your legs with a groan that sounds like agony and bliss all at once. “This pussy’s crying for cock, babe.”

You gasp when he wraps his arms under your thighs and locks you in place, dragging his mouth through your folds—tongue’s everywhere sloppy and greedy, licking everything you could give him.

“mmmh such a sweet taste.” His voice’s muffled by your puffy lips. “You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Please, let me have it, please. I want you to mark me. Wanna be drenched in you. I’ve waited so long to be covered in your cum, your sweet liquid all over my face, hot and warm.” 

His lips suck on your clit, hard—creating suction.

“No more toys. No more hiding in your room touching yourself when I’m out there. All this cum going to waste? Not in my watch.” You’re lips part in a silent scream when he suddenly inserts two long fingers into your soaked pussy, curling them just right—just onto your spongy spot.

“Caleb, don’t stop—ah!—feels so good,” you pant, rocking into him. “Your tongue—oh! Right here! Yes, fuck—need more…”

“You’re gonna get it—mph keep tugging on them—” Caleb’s eyes roll back as your fingers grope his hair, pushing him deeper in your cunt. “gonna give you the real thing if you make a pretty mess on my face. You can do that right?”

Your heart is pounding so hard, and your walls keep clenching and clenching. At this point, you’re gushing all over his face. 

The pleasure overwhelming your sense. “Caleb move your fingers faster..”

And he does just as you asked. His fingers soaked, filthy sounds escaping your pussy every time he moves them in, they’re white. White of your arousal.

And when he sucks on your clit once again, you cum harder than ever. Back arching, scream ripped straight from your lungs as you convulse around his fingers.

But when you collapse, breath ragged, the ache in your core only gets worse. Your body aches, womb throbbing—begging for him and only him. A hunger that no toy, no fingers and no tongue could satisfy.

You prop yourself on your elbows, eyes blown wide and pupils sharp as you look down the thick, flushed length already in his hand. Veins running up the shaft, the tip swollen and deep brown. So pretty your mouth goes dry. There’s probably drool coming out of the corner of your lips. 

“Need you to fuck me.” You rasp. “Fuck me so deep I could feel you for days.”

His jaw clenches, knuckles going white around the base of his cock. “You’re not ready—”

“You smell me, don’t you?” you grab your knees and pull them up, wide, exposing everything. “You said it—I’m in fucking heat. I want to be stuffed. I need to be bred. Caleb, please…” you look up at him with teary eyes.

“Fuckin’ mine.” He snarls, yanking your hips down until your ass is flush with the edge of the bed and he’s lined up, cock head brushing over your soaked entrance. You arch up into him panting and almost crying from the pressure building under your skin.

Caleb moves his cock head up and down your entrance, circling your sensitive clit with his fat tip—smearing all his precum across your folds.

“Caleb…stop the tease. Put it in.”

He leans over you, face twisted in lust and longing. “As the lady begs.”

And in one brutal thrust, he’s deeeep inside you. Your cunt stretches wide around him, to its maximum, it’s borderline with pain. His cock’s so thick you swear you can feel every tiny twitch, every fucking pulse against your walls.

His forehead presses to yours, one hand fisted in your hair, the other locked under your knee to keep you open. “You’re so tight. . like so fuckin’ tight—shit, hiding this perfect pussy from me, you some of selfish girl, ain’t you ?”

“Caleb,” you cry, tears leaking from your eyes. “If you don’t move—”

He lets out a guttural sound, something animalistic—cutting you off—and starts driving into you, fast. The bed creaks under his thrust, wet slaps echo around you.

“My needy little fuckdoll…” he whispers against your ear, “So so wet and desperate, how long have you been walking around wanting this pussy to be fucked properly?” He pants, thrusting harder, “My cock’s the only thing that’ll help you, mhh? Say it.”

You sob, words crumbling in your throat, your pussy gripping him so tight it’s like you’ll never let him go. “Forever.” The word rips out of you, cracked and breathless. “I thought about you every night. Wanted this cock in me so bad I couldn’t fucking sleep—please, Caleb, I need it.”

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, thrusts getting messier. “I knew it. Knew you were touchin’ yourself thinkin’ about me—slippin’ fingers into that sloppy little hole pretending it was mine.” 

“Yes!” you cry, choking on it, back arching off the bed.

Big rough hands suddenly slam into your hips, holding you down—pinning you on the mattress as his thrusts becomes more and more sloppier. And when his fat tip hits something wicked inside you—

“Holy fuck,” his voice wrecked, pausing only a split second to look down at the mess you just made. “Did you—did you just…squirted?” his eyes are still on the white liquid all over his pelvis, his balls and thighs.

You nod, a bit ashamed, a bit too fucked-out to fully comprehend.

“Gonna make you do that again.” He shifts your legs up higher, hitting now at a deeper angle, hips pistoning without mercy. “Wanna see that pussy gush all over me again, spill for me—paint my cock with it even. Fuck that’s so hot, you have no idea.”

𓂃۶ৎ XAVIER

Are you a whore for wanting to fuck Xavier’s cock buried deep in you again? And right before his big concert, no less.

He’s waited for this moment for so long, going on and on about how excited he was to perform with his band at this famous festival — a major turning point in their career.

And it’s not like Xavier didn’t satisfy you before coming here. He knew you were ovulating and was more than happy to fuck you for who knows how long—long enough to cum dry, reduced to those weak, poor little spurts.

But it is his fault for looking so damn sexy in the back stage waiting room : pretty makeup, painted nails, and some mouthwatering outfit—if we could call even call that an outfit. It’s just tight leather pants and a jacket with nothing under it, his abs—and the tattoo down his hips—plus his pink nipples are right there in front of you. and watching him run through his setlist on guitar wasn’t helping one bit. His long fingers gliding over the strings, teasing the cords…

“Hey, you good?” Xavier’s voice pulls you out of your trance. “You all flushed and…shifting in your seat.” He tilts his head, clearly concerned. “If you need something I can call—” 

“No!” you respond too quickly, making him furrows his brows. 

When he smirks and his pupils dilate more, you realize he knows exactly what’s going on. “You really are one horny girl.” He laughs softly, shaking his head in disbelief before turning his attention back to his guitar. 

“God forbid a girl wants her man all over her.” You mutter, crossing your arms with a fake pout.

Xavier hums, amused—only making you even more irritated. 

You cross your legs. Then uncross. Then squeeze your thighs together, desperate for relief. 

“Something wrong with the seat?” he asks, still pretending to look at his guitar, rings flashing under the light.

You shoot him a glare, but it only fuels him. He lets his eyes roam over you for a long second, slow and unashamed. “You really are squirmy tonight. Is it the pants?” he gestures lazily to himself. “You don’t like leather, maybe?”

Before you can answer, someone passes by the open door of the backstage lounge, tossing Xavier a quick, “Five minutes, man!” 

He waves a hand without looking. His eyes stay on you. “I’ll make it quick,” he shouts back—but you don’t know if he means it to him or…to you.

More people start moving outside—crew, staff, the bandmate walking past, making it much worse. The room doesn’t even have a door, just a curtain half-drawn. But it might as well not be there at all.

And Xavier starts tuning again, lazily, strumming slow, deep chords. It’s like foreplay with a guitar. Every sound, every note, synced to the rise and fall of your breath. Like he’s playing��you.

“Touch yourself,” he says quietly.

Your head snaps up. 

“No one’s looking. Just a little. Over the pants.” He adds like that’s supposed to help your case.

“No need to tell me twice.” You shift, subtly, rocking your hips the smallest bit where you sit.

“Rub your clit a bit, get some relief before I go out there.” He whispers for only you to hear, his pupils have eaten the deep ocean blue of his eyes. “I’ll be thinking about it the whole time.”

You bring a hand to your clothed pussy, cupping it, your thumb coming to your swollen bund, pressing and circling it—you whimper at the sensation, a deep exhale leaving your lips.

“Fuck this.” He groans.

He drops the guitar onto the couch, grabs your wrist and pulls you up like you weigh nothing. You stumble into his chest, dizzy with the contact, with the heat radiating off his skin. He looks left, right and practically drags you out of the lounge, down a narrow hallway and around the corner. 

There’s a supply closet. Barely lit. barely big enough to stand in—but it will do.

He shoves the door open and pulls you in.

The moment it shuts, he slams you against it—hard enough to rattle your bone in the best way—and cages you in with both arms.

“You couldn’t wait,” he breathes against your cheek. “My cock is still sensitive from earlier and here you are. Shifting in your seat like a brat. Was it not enough?”

“Well, you wore leather,” you tease, smiling fully—but it disappears as fast as it appeared when his mouth crushed onto yours.

His tongue licks your lips, kissing you with all he got. One thigh sliding between yours and pressing against your aching core. His hands move down your hips, forcing you to grind down on him, adding more pressure as his tongue invades your mouth.

The kiss is filthy—both of you fighting for dominance. Nothing sweet or gentle. Just teeth, spit and bruising heat. Wet sounds echo in the cramped closet—muffling the world behind the tiny door—drool dripping down your chins.

“I swear you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says once he pulls away to take a needed breath. “My cock is barely functioning, and—fuck” his eyes rolls back when you arch to reach one of his strawberry-colored nipples with your mouth, teeth tugging enough to make him hiss. 

“We gotta be quick, okay? Don’t be too loud—”

“I’m not the one who’s loud, Xavier,” You snap, hands already on his belt, pulling his cock free. “Pull my pants down now, would ya? It’s not like we have time to lose, mh?”

You nuzzle into the side of his neck, kissing the sensitive spot under his ear while his thigh presses back and forth against your soaked panties.

His hands move fast, yanking your pants and underwear down in one go—then flipping you around so your bare ass is pressed flush to his leaking tip.

“I don’t need to be prepared—”

“So greedy,” he cuts you off, slamming his hips forward and sinking into your warm, dripping cunt.

“Oh, fuck.” You moan, palms flat against the cold wall, pushing your hips back, desperate to take all of him. Xavier’s cock is curved perfectly to hit that throbbing, aching spot that had your vision going white within seconds.

He holds you tight, grinding his hips into yours in a punishing, frantic rhythm. His mouth crashes to your shoulder and his bites into it. “How’s that?” he pants, breath hot and wild. “Is it a good fuck? Do you like being fucked like this?” one of his hands grabs a handful of your ass, fingers digging in hard. 

“That’s what you wanted? My fat cock inside your needy cunt.” his hips clapping against yours with filthy, echoing slaps. You can feel it. Every inch. Every stretch of him.

And you feel so full—the pressure is insane. Your belly is tight, heat coiling in your core and crawling up your spine. When you glance down, just barely, you can see it—a faint bulge at the bottom of your stomach every time he slams in, punching the air from your lungs.

“Fuck,” you gasp. “You’re so deep—I can see you inside me.”

His rhythm stutters, a choked moan ripping from his throat as he presses a hand flat over your lower stomach, right where his cock is visible. “Stuffing this tight pussy all nice.”

Your head tips back, a broken moan ripping from your throat as your back arches, hips rocking to meet him halfway. “So good—ah!—really good Xavier—don’t you dare stop,” you cry out, voice trembling. 

And just as his other hand comes to twist your nipple, hard fast, just how you like it—

“Has anyone seen Xavier?” a voice cuts in, rushed and far too close.

Your head whips toward him, but he’s already looking at you—his face stricken for a second, then overtaken by that same unhinged, hungry need. 

“He was in his room, like, two minutes ago.” You distingue one of his bandmate’s voice.

“Shit, shit—we gotta hurry,” he grits out, barely louder than a breath. He’s still buried in you, still chasing that last high.

His thrusts grow ragged and sloppy. He grips your hips tighter, slamming into you harder, deeper—the slap of skin on skin is loud and soaked with all the slick leaking down your thighs.

“Please, come with me, sweetie…” his voice’s raw, fucked-out against your shoulder. One hand fumble between your legs, fingers finding your clit, rubbing fast, messy circles.

Every thrust slam into your sweet spot with punishing accuracy, and the pressure in your belly coils tighter and tighter. You can’t think—can’t breathe—his cock is pulsing inside you, so hot, so hard—

“gonna come—I’m gonna —” you whisper, eyes fluttering, completely gone.

“Do it,” he groans. “Let go. Come for me. Make a mess on my cock—make this pussy gush, baby.” He demands, fingers pressing tighter to your clit—coaxing your orgasm, his thrusts getting more erratic and rougher.

Your walls locking down around him, gushing, your legs shaking. The orgasm crashes into you like a fucking truck. Your body convulses, clit pulsing under his fingers, your cunt fluttering around his cock—the bulge in your stomach pulses with every thrust.

Xavier hisses through his teeth, losing control the second your walls squeeze once too hard around his wide length. “Jesus—fuck, yes!—j-just like that—oh shit…” he chokes out, burying himself deep inside as hot ropes of cum fills your womb, cock twitching.

His head drops to your shoulder, forehead slick with sweat against your skin.

For a second, it’s just your breathing—ragged, tangled, all-consuming.

“Xavier! You coming or what?” someone shouts, just outside the door. 

“Goddamn it.” He mutters, pulling out of you with a protesting whimper, trying to steady his breath. His cum starts dripping down your thigh as he stumbles back, moving fast and try to shove himself back into his boxers, one hand fumbling with his zipper.

You stumble a little, legs shaking as you fix your clothes, heart still hammering in your chest. 

Before he can fully turn away, you grab his jaw—his breath stills, eyes snapping to you.

You pull him into a filthy, wet kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. Going on your tiptoes, you bring your mouth to his ear and murmurs “Don’t forget…we’re not done, pretty boy.”

Your tongue flicks against the shell of his ear­—goosebumps parkouring down his neck.

You smirk and purr at his reaction. “And don’t forget who you belong to when girls start throwing their bras at your face, mh?”

His eyes widen, hungry, and then he’s gone—rushing out the door, jaw still tingling from your grip.

𓂃۶ৎ RAFAYEL

It was such a hot day. .

The kind of heat that slicked your skin in sweat before you’d even moved, the kind that left the air heavy and unbearable. 

So, when Rafayel suggested a beach day, with that shy little tilt of his head, you had almost laughed. Not because it was stupid idea, but he thought it would cool you down.

He didn’t know better.

You were absolutely a wet mess for his cock. Your body was way more much hotter than the sun hitting on the sand.

So, of course, when you found the hidden cove—all shadows and crashing waves—you were on Rafayel before he could even make a comment on the view. 

“Please, Rafayel,” you whispered, breath ghosting hot across his lips. Your chest heaved against his, pinning him effortlessly, and your fingers curled around his wrist.

His breath hitched, pupils blown wide, violet eyes barely visible through the haze of lust and disbelief. Even his lips were still kiss-swollen.

“I—I don’t think I can even fuck you properly,” he stammered, voice cracking so cutely. “Even If I wanted to. I’m still—God—I haven’t recovered yet…”

And indeed, you’d both spent most of your times in the hotel’s bed sheets, fucking all night all day from the kitchen floor to the bathroom’s sink. His mouth and dick buried between your thighs pulling so many orgasms out of you, and him. Non-stop.

Your body pressed tighter, practically purring against his as you leaned into his neck, nipping just above his collarbone. He gasped—so easily startled 

You could feel his pulse against your lips—frantic. You took your chance and slid your hand down his toned stomach until it reached the front of his swim shorts. When you cupped his length with your palm, he twitched violently.

“For a man who says he hasn’t recovered, you’re quite well-functioning y’know.” You mock. 

You slowly lift your gaze from his cock to his face—eyes glassy with hunger—and you whisper, “you only have to be here. I can do all the work…please, Rafayel. I need to soothe the ache.”

He blinked, breath stuttering hips already betraying him with a slow roll forward. “I can’t take much more—”

You cut him off with a grind of your hips, dragging your soaked bikini bottom over the swell of him, letting him feel exactly how needy you were—your folds stuck to the fabric, your slick a mess between you both, and he whimpered.

“Just keep looking pretty,” you murmured, licking into his open mouth. “That’s all you ever have to do.”

You sank to your knees, hands tugging at the waistband of his shorts with zero patience. His cock slapped up against his stomach—flushed an angry pink, throbbing, soaked in precum—his tip redder than usual from the overstimulation.

You let out the most pornographic moan ever, head tilting as you watched the fat bead of slick drip from his slit. He twitched under your gaze, a pitiful whimper slipping from his bitten-red lips.

You flattened your tongue against the underside of his cock, dragging it cruelly from the base to the tip, savoring the salty-slick taste of him. You circled his swollen head with the tip of your tongue, smearing his own precum around it, watching his thighs tremble.

“F-fuck—ah, I—” he choked, fingers scrambling against the rock behind him, eyes wide. “P-please—please, baby, don’t tease—” 

You laughed against his cock before sinking down, swallowing him in one wet, choking glide, shoving your face until your nose pressed into the soft curls at his pelvis.

His back arched.

One hand clawed helplessly at the rock wall behind him while the other gripped your hair in a panic-tight hold, trying to either stop you or pull you deeper—he didn’t even know.

You moaned around him, loud and guttural, your thora vibrating around his cock, drool bubbling at the corners of your mouth. Your ruined bikini clung to your body like a second skin, soaked clean through—fabric bunched between your folds, practically dripping as you rocked your hips against nothing.

You pulled back just to spit thickly onto his cock, watching it mix with your slick and his precum, running down your chin, stringing between your lips and his tip as you licked back up with filthy abandon.

“I—I can’t—” he sobbed, head slamming back against the rock. “Y-you’re too—fuck—it’s too much, I can’t—”

“You can,” you snarled, fisting the base of his cock with one hand, pumping him hard as you licked his tip with quick, sloppy little flicks. “You will.”

The second he came—spilling down your throat, twitching in your mouth, voice broken and wrecked—you climbed on top of him. Still on your knees in the sand, bikini bottom shoved aside, folds glistening and dripping with need.

He was still softening when you straddled him, and he looked at you with dazed, glassy eyes—eyes that screamed mercy.

But you were past hearing it.

“Fuck, I need you,” you rasped, nails digging into his chest as you guided him back to your soaked, pulsing heat. “I don’t care if you’re not ready. I can’t—I can’t wait anymore, Rafayel. I need to cum or I’m going to lose my fucking mind.” 

“I—I just came…and maybe, your pussy needs to—”

“I’ll make it fit,” you snapped, grinding his oversensitive cockhead through your swollen clit. His body tried to flinch away from the contact, but you caged him in—legs strong, body relentless—and pushed.

His mouth fell open in a silent moan, his whole frame spasming beneath you. “Oh God—it’s too much, I swear—”

You dropped onto him fully, hips slamming down as you bottomed out in one desperate stroke—not listening to what he was saying, driven by lust.

Even softening, his cock was stretching you full, he still reached deep. 

“Rafayel, babe—I need it,” you whimpered, already riding him, pace feral. “Need to cum sooo bad.”

Your cunt was making noises to the point of indecency, your juices squelching loud and obscene, splashing everywhere around you—on you. His hands gripped your hips weakly. 

“You’re milking me—I can’t, it hurts—please, fuck, I—oh fuck!”

“you’re gonna take it,” you snarled, sweat dripping down your temples, your ruined bikini top falling askew, tits bouncing with every thrust. “I want to cream on your cock, Rafayel. You want it too, right? Lemme pretty, be a good boy.”

His hips bucked up once, involuntarily, and you screamed—your clit grinding against his pelvis, your pussy fluttering, sucking him in deeper like your body knew nothing but this hunger now. 

With tears in his eyes, cock twitching helplessly inside you, he whispers “I’m gonna cum again—”

“Fucking do it,” you panted, riding him faster, rougher, losing all rhythm, chasing your orgasm like a woman possessed.

And no long after, you felt hot long ropes of cum filling your cunt, his fingers bruising your thighs as his eyes closed shut. Cumming harder than before, body completely at your mercy.

You followed seconds after, cunt spasming wildly around him, milking him through his own overstimulation. 

You collapsed forward, chest to chest, both of you soaked in sweat and cum.

𓂃۶ৎ ZAYNE

you squint at the red glow of the alarm clock on the nightstand.

4:00 am.

You stare at the ceiling like it might talk you down. It’s fine. One day. You can do it. You’re not a sex addict, right? One day is fine. 

You tell yourself that. Over and over. For over an hour now. Since you woke up, heart pounding hard against your ribcage, panties soaked. 

You’ve twisted in the sheets, rolled from side to side, trying to calm it, trying to wait it out. 

No use.

You sigh as your turn your head toward Zayne. You watch the slow raise and fall of his back as his breath steadily. He’s out cold, like someone completely exhausted can be. And you get it—he had a brutal shift at the hospital. He has… What? Twelve or thirteen hours on his feet? Probably more. And he’ll be up again in ninety minutes. 

He needs this sleep. 

But the way his back stretches in the moonlight, muscles taut and perfect like someone sculpted him out of sleep and sweat—it makes you ache. Makes your thighs clench. Makes patience feel like a joke.

He’s always giving so much. To his job, to everyone. Always putting in more than he has to. Always chasing better. And he deserves rest. He really does.

But unfortunately, there’s this pulse between your thighs, stubborn. A knot of need that won’t untangle. Your panties feel like a tease, there’re soaked to the point it feels like they’re mocking you for trying to be patient.

You turn toward Zayne once again. Your gaze shifting between the ceiling and him.

He hasn’t moved. His lips are parted just slightly, his skin’s warm under your fingertips as you brush his hip.

You bite your lower lip as you mentally curse yourself for what you’re about to do. 

You swloly slide closer to him, careful not to wake him up, your legs slips between his, and you press in, grinding your needy core against the strong curve of his thigh—it’s solid and so perfect… exactly what you desperately need.

You bite your lip, hard. It’s the only way to stop the sound that nearly escapes when your clit drags just right across his thigh.

His skin against yours, the faint scent of him clinging to the sheets, the little flex of his leg when he shifts ever so slightly in his sleep—it’s so freaking good.

There’s nothing cute or sweet with what you’re doing.

You’re rutting against your boyfriend’s sleeping body like some feral thing, chasing your orgasm in silence, praying he doesn’t wake up and see you like this—panting, wide-eyed.

You’re so wet it should be illegal—slick soaking through the lace, leaving his thigh all slicky with your arousal. 

Every roll of your hips sends sparks through your core, your face twists.

Stop. You should stop. Just go to the bathroom. Use your hand. 

But you can’t. even with all the will power of the world. 

You can’t.

His body, his warmth, his strength. There’s something so Zayne that only him can do.

Even if he doesn’t touch you back, even if he’s deep in some dream far away from you—you’re still losing your mind grinding on him. 

Quietly.

Your thighs tremble as the pressure builds, heat coiling low and tight, your body twitching for more, more, just a little more—

You bury your face in the pillow, teeth sinking in, trying to smother every sound.

You’re right there—hips twitching, whole body shivering around the friction, balancing on that thin, shaking edge. One more grind and—

“Mmh…” Zayne stirs, a low grunt rumbling from his chest as he moves, disoriented.

“what time is it…?”

Shit.

Heart in your throat, you stop moving entirely. 

Too drenched in need to think straight, too mortified to breathe.

You don’t say a word. Maybe he’ll roll over. With a bit of luck…maybe he won’t even notice.

His thigh flexes, your slick clings to his skin. And he goes still too.

A long pause.

“…are you grinding on me?” his voice is thick with sleep, raspy—making your clit throb. 

You press your face deeper into the pillow, cheeks burning, shame crawling down your spine. “I—I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you whisper, voice cracking. “I just...I couldn’t sleep.”

His gaze drops. To your hips. Then your ruined panties. His thigh wet with your arousal.and even though he looks like he’s still trying to process the image, his body reacts faster than his brain.

“Jesus.” he mutters, voice rougher. “…How long have you been doing this?”

“…a while.” You reply quietly.

That pulls a breathy, stunned laugh from his, still half-asleep but definitely hard. Zayne props himself up on one elbow, eyes adjusting, blinking—trying to pull himself out of the sleep.

“I tried not to wake you.”

He watches you for a long second, hair messy, “You were gonna cum on my thigh and not say a thing?”

You nod, barely, ashamed and aching.

“Fuck. You’re actually serious.” His hand reaches out, thumb brushing the curve of your tummy. “You needy little thing,” His lips twitch in a mean smile. Way too amused for someone who just woke up to his girlfriend fucking herself on him.

“You’re so fucked.” He drags the words out in that wrecked, sleepy voice of his—the one that send a shiver down your spine.

“Take ‘em off.” 

You blink.

He tapes your panties, eyes glinting. “Go on. Take those ruined little things off. Since you’re already this far.”

You hesitate, heart pounding.

“Aww, now you’re shy?” his tone turns sharp with mock sympathy as his golden eyes fix yours. His hands come to your hips, and he rips your panties off.

The sharp sting causing you to gasp. “Here we go…wasn’t that hard.”

 He leans in, breath warm against your cheek, that grin still curling his lips. “You gonna finish what you started?” he murmurs. “Gonna show me how bad you needed it? Since you couldn’t even wait for me to wake up?”

You can’t even answer—just a shaky whimper as you straddle him again, your body obeying even as it trembles, already too raw. Zayne leans back, propping himself up against the headboard, spreading his legs wide. “Atta girl,” His voice’s thick with sleep and arousal. “Show me.”

But the second you drop your full weight onto his thigh, your body jolts. Your hips twitch instead of rock, thighs squeezing as your head falls back in a helpless arc.

It’s too much.

You can’t move. Can’t even breathe right. The slick drag of skin-on-skin against your pulsing clit is sharp and unbearable—like pleasure and pain got tangled together and started burning.

Zayne notices instantly.

“Ohhh,” he breathes, tilting his head to the side, lip caught between his teeth. “You really were fucking losing it, huh?”

Your mouth falls open in a pretty O, eyes fluttering shut as he flexes his muscles under you. 

“Look at you,” he laughs softly, darkly, pressing a kiss to your jaw as his other hand threads into your hair and pulls—not hard, just enough to make your throat arch for him. “Fucked yourself out all alone, like a big girl. What, thought you’d just hump my leg and sneak off to sleep after?”

He kisses lower, breath brushing hot against your neck as his mouth drags over your skin. One hand grips your ass, the other holding your hair tight to keep your neck bared as he leaves kiss after kiss down the curve of it—open-mouthed and wet.

Every part of you is sensitive. Your cunt’s throbbing, leaking onto his thigh, your whole body barely stilling with every tiny shift of friction.

“Lemme take this off for you,” he whispers onto your collarbone, hands slipping beneath your shirt. “There we go… You feel much better like this don’t you?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer. He just smirks at the sight of your bare chest, nipples hardened and flushed, completely at his mercy.

He leans in, blows softly onto one—just enough to make you shiver—and the sensation shoots straight between your legs. You whimper, hips bucking as one of his hands returns to your waist, forcing you to grind your drenched pussy against the firm muscle of his thigh.

“Go on,” he murmurs, voice muffled as his mouth closes around your nipple. He nips at it, then sucks

“Be a good girl. Cum on me. I want you to make a mess on me.” he flexes his thigh just right beneath you and you can’t hold it anymore.

A loud moan escapes you as his teeth close again on your nipple, this time a slow aching chew—your body locks up—back arching, nails digging into his shoulders as you cry out. Your climax rips through you, messy and unrestrained. 

Before the tremor even leaves your body, he’s moving.

You feel his hands slide beneath your thighs—rough, commanding—and in a blur, you’re flipped onto your stomach, face buried into the pillows, ass lifted high.

You barely catch your breath before he’s behind you, spreading you open with no hesitation, breath hot, voice gone dark.

“You will take this like a good girl, ‘kay?” He murmurs, almost too gentle for how he manhandles you. He peppers kisses across your shoulders—probably apologizing in advance. 

His weight settles over you, chest pressing into your back, caging you between the mattress and his wide, unrelenting body. His hands keep your ass in the air, firm and unyielding, while his cock brushes teasingly against your soaked, oversensitive center.

“Gonna be a bit rough,” he warns, breath warm against your ear. “That okay with you?”

You whimper, nod, and he grins—low and sharp.

“Yeah… I know it is. You love being fucked like this. Like a dirty little whore.” He slaps your perfect little ass before adding, “Hold onto the pillows, love.”

And in one brutal push, he’s all the way in. his cock buries to the hilt, stretching you wide open, the sudden fullness knocking the breath from your lungs. His hips are flush to yours, pubic hair brushing your holes, his body locked tight against yours.

“Fuck!—Z-Zayne…’s lot—ah!—”

“That’s okay,” he pants, mouth at your neck—almost drooling over your skin. “You’re my strong girl. You can take it.”

And then he moves—thrusting into you like he’s lost to it, all control burned away. Each stroke is brutal, deep, precise, pounding you into the mattress with relentless force. The bed slams against the wall with every thrust, the headboard rattling loud enough to drown your cries.

He keeps you pinned, keeps your hips arched just right, locked in that perfect angle. All you can do is hold on—fingers twisting in the sheets, face pressed into the pillows, body trembling with the force of it all.

“’S right,” he rasps, pleasure thick in every breath, sweat sticking his chest to your back. He’s nearly gone, nearly forgetting he’s got to be up in less than an hour. “Takin’ this dick so damn well… you’re perfect.”

Your body responds on instinct—tightening around him, walls clenching like a vice. It hits him like a punch to the gut.

“Fuck,” he groans.

You whimper beneath him, nearly sobbing into the pillow. You can feel everything—every thick ridge, every puffy vein, the way his cock drags and stretches you just a little more with every deep thrust. It’s overwhelming. Too much. Not enough.

He hisses through his teeth, hips stuttering for half a second.

“Shit,” he grits out, golden eyes locked to where your bodies meet—where you’re dripping, splashing, making a soaked mess with every slam of his hips. “You tryin’ to choke my cock or somethin’, huh?”

His hands move from your hips until both palms are cupping your breasts. He squeezes onto the soft plush, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples as his thrusts keep slamming into you from behind—only to hear your pretty ‘Ah! Ah!’ followed with ‘Deeper Zayne!’

“Can’t stop clenching. So sensitive—these fuckin’ tits—” he groans again, rolling one nipple between his fingers. 

You arch into him, helpless. His cock driving into you, his hands pulling at your chest, his mouth licking your neck—all of him wrapped around you, inside you.

“Hold still,” he growls, voice barely human now, hips picking up pace, bed slamming again. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock with my hands all over you.”

𓂃۶ৎ SYLUS

“Again?” Sylus’s voice comes raspy, broken in the edge. 

“Pleaaaase,” you purr, letting the word rolls on your tongue, hands firmly pressed on his chest—pushing him against the cold wall.

His head falls back with a dull thud. “Kitten…” he breathes, his ruby eyes dropping to look at you as you press your body against his. “We’re on a mission… I don’t think that’s the moment—”

“You’re sweating,” you whisper, fingers dragging down his forehead, lips ghosting the corner of his jaw. “That’s not like you.” You’ve seen him calm in gunfire, unfazed in blood—it was uncharacteristically of him to have an uneven breath.

“I just think…” you trail off, rising onto your toes, mouth brushing his ear, “if we make it quick… no one has to know.” You bat your lashes, voice a soft, sultry question. You already know the answer. You know you got him wrapped around your finger. You only needed to find the right arguments. It was just a matter of seconds.

Sylus exhales hard through his nose, like it physically hurts to resist you. His jaw ticks.

“You’re insufferable.” He snaps as his hand fists in your shirt, dragging you down the hall without a word. 

You smile like crazy. He’s just so cute, isn’t he? 

You pass doors. Equipment crates. A stack of mission gear left behind. His body is tense, every step coiled like he’s keeping himself from pinning you to the wall right there and tearing into you in front of anyone who might walk past.

Once he finds a room, he shuts the door with his boot and pin you against it. Dim light filters through a single wall panel, dust swirls in the air, it’s abandoned, quiet and safe.

His hands cage your jaw, his forehead presses to yours. He's panting like he just fought someone off.

"You drive me insane," he growls.

“Is that so?” you blink up at him, biting the inside of your cheek to stifle the laugh. You play dumb, “didn’t notice.”

His hand shoots up, fisting the collar of your shirt. And before you can even gasp, his mouth crashes into your—bruising, teeth clicking, no space to breathe between the kiss and the punishment.

There’s nothing delicate.

His lips crush yours, dragging your bottom one between his teeth until you whimper. The heat of it stings the ache spreading deliciously down your spine. He kisses like’s he’s mad at you, mad at him for not knowing how to tell you ‘No’. 

And you kiss him back just as hard. Your fingers tangle in front of his shirt, twisting fabrics tight in your fists. One hand slip between your bodies, palming him through his pants firmly.

He jerks in your grip, groaning straight into your mouth. His hand flies to your hip, squeezing hard enough to leave a bruise. The other grabs your wrist, stopping your hand mid-stroke.

“I don’t think I can cum.” His eyes are heavy-lidded when he looks at you. 

“As long as you can get hard,” You smirk, lips swollen and heart racing. “that’s all I need.”

With a growl, Sylus moves fast. He drags your pants down your legs with urgency. Your panties don’t stand a chance—he doesn’t even pull them off, just pushes them to the side, fingers grazing hot and rough against your soaked heat.

You’re already undoing his zipper, not bothering with finesse. His pants stay on, barely shoved down enough to free his cock, thick and flushed in your hand. 

He lifts you with no more ceremony, strong hands under your thighs then rapidly under your knees so your legs could rest on his wide shoulder. The position locks you open, exposed—your back pressed to the cold door, legs draped high and wide against his warm body.

His cock drags upward through your slick folds, heavy and hot, teasing that swollen ache with just enough pressure to make you whimper. The contrast of his warmth against the door’s chill makes your skin burn.

Teeth graze along your jaw, and his voice comes out low, “Gonna fuck you all nice and good, promise. Hold on tight.”

You don’t even realize you’ve grabbed two fistfuls of his white hair until he thrusts forward, so hard that your entire body tightens, already bracing for the stretch, the slam, the mess.

His forearms warp around your thick thighs, holding you in place with an iron grip as he piston into you. You’re suspended between the door and his chest, barely able to think—let alone speak.

When he moves it’s rough—slow but deep. The weight of his pants clings to his hips, the waistband scraping your thighs every time he thrusts in. 

His mushroom cock head kisses your cervix each time he brutally bottoms out, drawing a raw cry from your throat.

The sound of the scrape of wood behind you is almost louder than your own voice breaking. “Is this how you wanted it?” he rasps against your mouth, his breath hot, sharp. “On a mission—still begging to be stretched wide?”

Sweat beads at his temple. His jaw’s clenched. And all you can do is take it.

“Yes-Yes! Exactly…you’re so—oh shit!—good to me Sylus.” You pant, head hitting the door behind you as your eyes roll back. The way he’s still mostly dressed, the grind of fabric and heat—it's driving you to the edge faster than you’d admit. 

His jaw tightens when you yank on his hair again, and he groans—low and ragged. A bead of sweat rolls down his temple. He keeps you pinned high, panting into your neck as his pace builds—fast now, reckless. His gaze flickers down to the way you’re clinging around his length.

His arms flex with the effort. He resumes his pace to quick deep strokes. Wanting you to reach your orgasm.

“I—I think I’m going to cum dry...” he chokes out against your ear.

“That’s okay Sylus, j-just don’t stop—” You can feel his cock twitching violently against your gummy walls. 

“You feel so—so—fuck!” He drops your legs from his shoulders, almost trembling himself, he doesn’t let your feet hit the floor. He keeps you flush against the door, panting into your neck. 

His hips keep moving, slower but no less intense—the friction of your ruined panties, pressed awkwardly between you, makes everything more unbearable.

His hands slide under your thighs, lifting you again to tilt your hips, to find that devasting spot that has your vision white out at the edges.

“’m gonna cum, kitten—’m sorry—” he rasps. 

You feel the stuttering of his hips, the soft broken sound he makes into your shoulder as his body goes taut and shudders hard. What little he has left spills in weak, pulsing ropes.

But you? Sylus’s long fingers slip beneath what’s left of your panties, finding your clit instantly. He presses and flicks in quick, messy motions. He’s still coming from his high as your pussy paints his cock white.

^⌯𖥦⌯^੭  

[himasgod]

hi hello how are you? uhm this is probably my first time requesting to you

but could I request on twst characters reacting to reader actually having wings but the reader actually hides it underneath their hair(like behind their ears iykyk) to not cause that much attention (because the last time they did it made a huge commotion and had to resist to not throw hands at everyone who keeps touching her wings-) and the boys ONLY noticed when a wind blows their hair aside to reveal it(you can change the way of revealing the wings since I have no idea-)

I don't mind how many you put in this, in fact everyone is fine! just please put Leona and riddle these boys hold a special place in my heart.

and btw pls take your time, I'll be waiting for you. tysm! 🫶

LEONA AND RIDDLE X READER

Where they discover you have wings behind your ears

I hope I understood correctly what you meant, something like this, right?

You were sitting under one of the flowering trees in the Botanical Garden, book in hand, half-lost in thought while Leona lazily lounged beside you.

It was supposed to be one of those rare peaceful moments between classes where he didn’t grumble about being awake. You always appreciated his quiet presence— even if most of it was spent napping.

You reached over to pluck a petal off his hair when the wind picked up suddenly, a gust brushing your long hair to the side.

You didn’t realize anything had happened — not until you noticed Leona had cracked open one eye.

No, not cracked open.

He was staring.

Not in his usual cocky way — but focused.

“...Huh,” he muttered, sitting up just enough to get a better look.

“You’ve been hiding those this whole time?”

“Wha—?” You reached up instinctively and felt the soft edges of your wings, peeking out right behind your ears. You cursed under your breath, immediately trying to fix your hair to cover them again. Leona grabbed your wrist.

“Why hide them?”

You glanced away, ears burning.

“Because the last time people saw them, they wouldn’t leave me alone. Touching, whispering, some wanted to pluck a feather like a souvenir. I don’t need that again.”

Leona’s emerald eyes narrowed.

“People are idiots,” he muttered.

“Touching you without permission... you should’ve let me deal with them.”

“You’re not... weirded out?”

Leona gave a exhale, almost like a laugh.

“You’re at a school full of beastmen, fae, ghosts, and literal magic. Wings are the least strange thing I’ve seen. Still… it suits you.”

“What does?”

He smirked, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.

“That skyborn look. Like you’re from somewhere higher than the rest of us. Regal.”

You gave him a long look.

“…Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe.” He leaned back down, arms crossed behind his head.

“If people try touching you again, just say the word. I don’t mind throwing hands.”

You were standing beside Riddle, helping with the attendance sheet and budget files, when a gust of wind whooshed through the hall.

Your hair lifted — just enough.

Just barely enough to reveal something delicate fluttering behind your ears. Feathers. Soft, unmistakably wings.

Riddle turned, eyes wide.

“Yuu,” he said lowly, tugging you aside, away from the rest of the group. “Your hair—behind your ears—those… Are those wings?”

You froze.

“…Please don’t make a scene,” you whispered, glancing around. “They’re real. I hide them for a reason.”

“A reason?”

“The last time people found out, they treated me like a pet. Asking questions, touching me, even trying to name them like I was some exotic showpiece. It was humiliating.”

Riddle’s eyes softened with immediate understanding— perhaps even guilt. You expected scolding, or questions. But what you didn’t expect was how gently he stepped in front of you and said, quietly:

“You don’t need to explain yourself, but… if anyone treats you like that again, tell me.”

“Would you collar them?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He gave a small exhale— a mix of a sigh and a laugh.

“Only if they touch without asking. That's grounds for decapitation by Queen of Hearts rules.”

You smiled despite yours. “Riddle—”

“I mean it,you don’t need to hide what makes you different. But if you choose to, I’ll respect that. Just... don’t shut me out.”

You paused, then nodded.

“Thanks. For not freaking out.”

He adjusted his collar, trying (and failing) to look composed.

“I’m allowed one freakout. But only because I think… you're beautiful.”

You blinked.

“...The wings. I mean! The wings—!”

“Right,” you teased, “just the wings.”

[martygraciesversion381]

NO I'M NOT IN LOVE

lando norris x piastri!reader

warnings: allusions to smut, fluff, angst, flashbacks and that's all

summary: you're Oscar Piastri's little sister and you and Lando always hated each other. So how did you end up in this weird situation with him? That's what you're asking yourself too

song: no i'm not in love by tate mcrae

a/n: this is the chapter that i've been waiting to write since i first got the idea for the series i'm so excitedddd!!! It's a bit shorter but i hope that you guys liked it!!

COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED!!

requests[closed for now]

masterlist

series masterlist

11pm....you were still wide awake lying in your bed under the sheets. It was one of the usual times when you couldn't sleep, the only thing going through your mind were thoughts....existantial ones.

You thought about Lando, his smile, his eyes that made your heart beat faster every day. You didn't like him, that's what you told yourself. Because it was platonic wasn't it?

It was platonic when he held you after you got a nightmare when you stayed over at his house. And how he made sure that you slept pacefully all night in his arms.

"It's okay sweetheart it's not real...I'm here nothing's gonna happen to you" he wispered.

You kept shaking in his arms holding onto him tightly as if afraid that he'd disappear if you let go.

"Ssshhh....just go back to sleep I'm here I'll protect you."

It was platonic when you had a fight with Oscar and came to him crying and he held you until your sobs stopped.

"I'm not going to come between the two of you but if you need me I'm here okay?" he said kissing your hair.

You nodded agaisnt his chest feeling his arms tighten around you.

It was platonic when everytime that the two of you found each other in the same back he'd alway check on you

"So good sweetheart...you good yeah?" he moaned while he shoved his dick down your throat.

"I'm not hurting you am I?" he asked while he was pounding into you, bent over the counter.

"You sure you're okay?" he whispered while tracing the marks that he had left on your body

It was platonic when he kept you wrapped in his arms until daylight.

You tried to get out of his arms but it was nearly impossible. You felt him stir next to you and groan.

"No. You're not leaving." he grumbled pulling you back down into his arms.

It was platonic when the two of you had cooked together.

He was throwing pieces of bread at you while smirking.

"Lando stop! I have to cook dumbass!" you squeeled running away from him.

But a few minutes later, you were making pasta with his arms around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder.

It was platonic when he had came over and found you sick. It was platonic how he took care of you.

"God sweetheart....are you okay?" he asked as he walked into the living room finding you under the blankets.

You didn't even have the force to talk because of your sore throat so you just shook your head.

Lando took a shower with you, helping you wash before tucking you into bed. 'I'm just gonna stay until you fall asleep', he had said but instead the next morning you woke up with his arm around your waist.

It was platonic when he made you feel better after a day of uni.

You had a shitty day at uni. Studying was always hard. When you reached Lando's house you immediately let all of your body weight on him. He held you for a while on the couch until he decided to make you laugh while throwing awful dad jokes at you.

"Oh my god Lando stop! I'm going to throw up if i keep laughing!" you said not managing to stop the loud laughs echoing into his living room.

It was all platonic in the end wasn't it?

God you had fallen for him...and you had fallen hard.

tagglist:

@cinderellawithashoe @itzzgillianj27 @motorsportbarbie13 @gorgeusreputation16 @swiftlyconehead @g00d--vibes @linnygirl09 @itsleslie1998 @rd14 @safeplaceholland @f1fantasys @rendezvoushn @lilorose25 @softhyunieeee @powerlinevallies @imboredway2much @joannaln4 @mckalala @ln4girlie @charlesgirl16 @graceln4 @mimisweetz @lavande3 @wilmonyibo7 @ks001 @ayap4paya @jule239

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Down Home 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The world’s most famous heroes walk into a small town diner and change your life.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Because of this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all to Jupiter and back. Take care. 💖

Bucky yawns as you take his plate. He rubs his eyes as Steve blinks long and hard. You look out at the dusty old road. Tumble Down’s a long way out from anywhere. 

“Y’all gonna drive all night?” You wonder aloud. 

Steve sniffs and Bucky grumbles. “Gonna have to,” the latter says. 

“There’s a motel ‘bout two hours down. Truckers stop that way to rest but the last one came through, he was scratching from the bed bugs.” You cluck. “Those men work hard, ya know, but they just don’t make nothing easy."

“Two hours?” Steve echoes with a nod. You put his plate on the other as you pull your focus back. 

“Won’t be far,” Bucky sounds unconvinced. “I’ll just close my eyes a little. Tell me if I swerve--” 

“Buck.” 

The man chortles. “You know I’m kidding.” 

You look at the plates and then them. You don’t know if your ma and pa will believe you when you tell them. Wouldn’t it be better to show them? 

“Well, ya know, there’s spare rooms at my place. If it’s not forward of me,” you smile. “Oh, gosh, it must be, huh?” You cradle the plates against your stomach. “But it’s a lot closer. Twenty minutes or so.” 

Steve scratches his jaw and Bucky combs his metal fingers through his hair. They share a look you can’t decipher. The Captain looks at you. 

“That wouldn’t be too much?” He asks. 

“I don’t think so. I can call ma and pa, let them know. They love company.” 

“Hm,” Steve tilts his head. “Don’t feel like you have to be so nice.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be? Y’all are so nice and you’re heroes. Least I can do is put the bill on the house and get you a good night’s rest,” you beam. 

“Now that you won’t do,” Bucky takes out his wallet. “Girl like you’s earned a big tip.” He slaps bills down on the table. “Buy yourself something pretty.” 

“Maybe just a bag of feed for Cindy Lou,” you chuckle, “thank you, sir.” 

“Bucky,” he looks at your full hands. He scoops up the bills and reaches to tuck them in your apron instead. “We’ll take the rooms. I need to lay down.” He leans back and rolls his shoulders. “Someone has to work on their aim.” 

“Or you need to work on your reflexes,” Steve scoffs. 

You chuckle and leave them to bicker. It’s cute. Like Mrs. and Mr. Owens. You swear they could argue about the colour of the sky. 

You put the dishes in the window and stand on your toes to see Darnell. He’s got a paper back bent as he reads the curling pages. He glances over. 

“I’ll get ‘em in a sec,” he assures. “Wanna finish this part.” 

“Sure thing,” you chirp. 

You turn and stop short. You spin again and head down to the tiered shelf. You slide the pie from the middle and put it to the side. You turn and take two of the scalloped plates from the stack. You cut two slices and carry them to the only occupied table. 

“The apple pie’s going to go stale if it doesn’t get ate,” you put the plates down. “Can ya help me out?” 

Steve’s check ticks as his lips curve. “Apple pie? Well, don’t get much more American than that.” 

“But nothing’s cheesier than the Cap,” Bucky snorts. He gets a sharp look from his lifelong friend. 

“Enjoy,” you chime and retreat. 

You rock on your soles patiently. You don’t have much left on your shift. Amy will be here soon for the night shift; the truckers tend to come by after midnight. 

“Mm, the cook make this?” Bucky asks. 

You drag yourself from your thoughts and pop your head up. “Um, no. I did. I bake ‘em at home. Owner lets me sell them here.” 

“As he should. It’s very good,” Steve praises. 

“Gee, really? It’s my granny’s recipe.” 

Steve hums in pleasure. “You know, think we’ll finish this and wait for you outside before anyone else shows up.” 

“Good idea,” Bucky gulps. “I don’t got that energy right now.” 

“Fair enough. I’ll let y’all be in peace,” you say. 

You go into the kitchen and swipe up the plates. Darnell looks over as the door swings shut. “Said I’d get to ‘em.” 

“It’s no worries. I don’t mind. Nothing else to do around here.” You bring them to the sink and place them inside. You crank on the faucet and scour the porcelain. 

All in all, it’s not been a bad day. But now that you think about the night, you’re nervous. Ma and Pa sure will be surprised, but what about after? They might not be so impressed that you offered them to stay. 

🥧

“Y’all just gotta follow me,” you stand by the open door of your pa’s truck. “I’ll drive slow.” 

“Think we can keep up,” Bucky says. 

You smile and turn back. You grab the door and the seat. “You need help?” Steve offers. 

“Nuh uh,” you lift your foot onto the metal step, “got it.” 

You haul yourself up and pull shut the door. You give a thumbs up through the window. The men watch you as the stand by their motorcycles. You must look a little silly to them. The few city folk you’ve met, seem to think the people around her are simple. Maybe you are. 

You back out and spin the wheel. You head down the gravel road, two hands on the large ridged wheel as you steer into the rising night The closer you get to home, the more restless you are. 

As you pull in, you see your pa on the front porch where he always in. In his rocking chair. You shift into park and kill the engine. You get out as the bikes rumble up behind you. You hope down, the keys jingle, purse bouncing on your hip. 

“Hey, pa, is ma inside?” 

“What’s that racket?” He growls, squinting past you as he leans to one side.  A headlight gleams back at him. 

“It’s uh... company?” You stop at the bottom of the steps, just within the yellow sheen of the porch light. The mosquitoes buzz past your ears and your swat them away. A moth’s shadow circles over you. “Some diners...” 

“We ain’t running no hotel,” he harrumphs as the roar behind you quiets. 

“I know, pa. It’ll be my responsibility. Just wanted to talk to ma--” Footsteps crunch closer behind you. 

“Sir. I wanted to thank you myself for your hospitality. Your daughter’s been very kind to me and my friend.” 

Steve steps up beside you. You glance over at him nervously then back to your father. He stops his chair from rocking and leans forward. He blinks. 

“Heavens, your ma’s right about my glasses. Best start wearin’ them,” your pa shakes his head. “I can’t be seein’ straight.” 

“Pa,” you breathe, “It’s him.” 

“Steve Rogers, sir,” the blonde climbs the stairs and offers his hand. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Captain,” your father stands and shakes his hand emphatically. “An honour, if I ever known one. My wife’s grandfather, he was a service man. My own granddaddy too. Over on the islands.” 

“It was a big effort, for everyone,” Steve says. 

“Sergeant,” your pa slips his hand free. Bucky steps up, much less bold than the other man. 

“Sir,” Bucky responds quietly. “Hope it’s not too much. Just for the night.” 

“Make yourselves at home,” your pa insists. “I’ll go get Yvette. She’ll be over the moon. She ain’t gonna believe me.” 

“I’ll get her,” you offer. 

“Okay, okay,” your pa stands marveling at the Cap. “That shield is shiny as it looks on the TV.” 

Steve reaches back to unstrap the shield and presents it. You flit inside just as your eye meets Bucky’s. He nods before he turns to the other men. 

The floorboards creak as you go inside. You put your purse on the narrow table against the wall. You can hear the TV in the kitchen scratching through the old speakers. 

Your ma’s in there, at the table with the small box TV and it’s crooked antenna. You recognise the voices of the old soap characters she adores. She likes the ones from the nineties, only complains about the new ones. 

“Hey, ma,” you greet her. 

“Where’s your pa? Still outside?” She doesn’t look away from the small screen. 

“Uh huh. He’s uh... chatting with our guests.” 

“Guests?” She sits up tall and peels her eyes away from the TV. “Who’s that then?” 

“Ah, er, it’s uh--” 

“Yvette, you best not have nothing on your dress. We got some fine gentleman here,” your pa stomps down the hallway. “Some heroes.” 

“Heroes?” Your ma stands and rubs her hips. “What’re you on about, Ger—Oh, my lord! Is it—It’s-- he’s so blond!” 

She fans herself and bounds toward Steve as he stops behind your father. “And he brought that other one, didn’t he?” She peeks behind him. “And you look mighty beat. You need some food and some showerin’ and some beds.” 

“Maybe the last two,” Steve says. “Your daughter fed us down at the diner.” 

“Good girl,” your ma praises. “Well, then, we’ll go get them beds made up and Ger can show you where to wash up. Ah gee, henny,” she calls you by her little nickname. “You didn’t say, did ya?” 

“I was trying,” you murmur. 

“Come on, I gotta air out the rooms.” She grabs you and takes you past the super soldiers. They seem bigger as you pass. 

Your ma drags you upstairs. She stops you at the linen closet and takes out a stack of bedding. She dumps it in your arms and snaps the door shut. You follow her to the guest room at the end of the hall. 

She opens it up and flicks on the light. It’s been a while since you used the space. Not since Great Aunt Dorothea came and got in that spat with your ma. 

“You’ll have to get the old ones of,” she dabs her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’ve been sweatin’ my wig off all day.” 

You chuckle and go to work. You unhook the corners and gather the old bed in a ball. You pull on the fresh sheets and a quilt. You fluff the pillows too. You open the windows, shaking out the curtains. 

“Have to do the other too,” she girds. 

“Yes, ma.” 

You go into the next room. She lingers at the doorway. You watch her trying to listen to what’s going on below. 

“They came down to the diner?” She wonders as she leans on the frame. 

“Yep. I was just as surprised. They just rode right up lookin’ for a side of bacon,” you cheep. “They’re very polite, ya know?” 

“Well, they’re the old-fashioned type, ain’t they? Respectable too. Handsome,” she feels along the collar of her old farm dress. 

“Ma,” you chide as you heave the old bedding toward her. 

“You can’t deny it, can ya, sweet girl? Two of ‘em, too. What’re they doin’ in Tumble Down?” 

“Doin’ what every else does. Pass through,” you shrug. 

She nods and her face falls. “Yeah, it’s always the same old ‘around here, isn’t it?” 

“Same old,” you agree as you gesture past her. She lets you into the hallway and you grab the other disposed bedding. 

“Doesn’t have to be, ya know? Them boys are single.” 

“Ma,” you guffaw. “Don’t be silly.” 

“Well, I think I’m a bit past all that. But you--” 

“Ma,” you repeat. 

“Oh, you’re always so picky. First, you won’t go out to the fair with Jacob, then you won’t let Leslie take you on a picnic--” 

“Jacob spat on me in grade school and Leslie only wanted to make Corrine jealous,” you huff as you carry the sheets down the hall. “I’m happy as I am, ma. It’s nice to get a bit of excitement, but I’m not dreamy-eyed. I know where I belong.” 

She tuts. “You’re a good girl, henny. Too good for yourself.”  

You go downstairs and turn down the hall. The pipes thrum as the shower runs. As you enter the kitchen, you see Bucky at the table by the small television. Your dad’s hovering by him, yapping about what he saw on the documentary channel. 

“And they went to Belgium. You could see the broken trees, some of em...” 

Bucky glances over as you near the laundry room door. He brightens up as he watches you. You dip your chin down. You want to apologise to him. Your dad’s not much of a talker most of the time but when he latches onto something, he sure can get carried away. 

Oh well, it’s one night. One night and they can go back to being heroes. And you can gossip to Corrine about how you met most famous men in the world. 

[saturns-smut]

Spotted In The Crowd (Miyeon, i-dle)

Pairing: Miyeon x Male reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: The princess of K-pop spots you in the concert crowd and immediately knows she has to have you.  

Tags: Idol x Fan, Lingerie, Boob Play, Penetration, Oral Sex, Deep Throating, Daddy Kink, Fingering, Hair Pulling, Begging & Squirting.

Word Count: 1.2k

Notes: I don’t really like this if I’m being honest. So please tell me any feedback or advice you may have, I’d really appreciate it. This was a request by anon, so I hope you like it! If you liked reading this, please like, comment, reblog or follow to help a small writer!

———

Miyeon and her group performed their latest songs with energy and dedication. The corners of her mouth moved into a flirty smirk and her hips persuaded all fans in the audience to stare at her shamelessly.

Miyeon has been your bias ever since (G)I-DLE debuted. You loved her. Her eyes. Her nose. Her lips. Her reactions. Her waist. Her tits. Her ass. 

At the end of the concert, you stayed back a bit to soak it all in. But a short woman approached you. 

“Excuse me? You need to come with me.” She said, showing you her staff wristband.

“What? Did I do something?” You asked worriedly. “No, you didn’t. Miss Cho Miyeon wants to see you.” 

This could not be real. The Miyeon? Your ultimate Miyeon? It has to a joke.

“I’m not joking. We should hurry, she doesn't like waiting.” She said, grabbing your arm and taking you to the staff reserved area. Scanning her wristband and walking in, receiving some weird looks from her coworkers, to which she just responded by mouthing ‘For Miyeon’ to them. That seemed to make it. 

She guided you to a room, unlocking the door and handing you the keys. “Miss Miyeon is waiting for you inside. Lock the door once you get in so nobody walks in. Oh and a piece of advice, Miss doesn’t get tired easily.” She informed you and you nodded. This was really happening. Like those stories you read.

You opened the door carefully, locking the door behind you without even looking at the room properly. When you turned around, there was Miyeon. Laying in the small bed wearing only a baby pink lingerie set that barely covered anything.

Its form was made by tiny, thin straps and only had lace to cover her nipples and her pussy. The lace gave an innocent illusion, though nothing there was innocent at all. 

“Are you gonna say anything or just stare?” Her voice, giggling, broke your train of thoughts and you didn’t know what to say. “Um… hi?” You tried.

More of her cute giggles echoed through the room. “Hi, baby boy. You like what you see?” 

“Uh… Fuck— Um, yes.” You said, taking a moment to scan the room. The small bed Miyeon was laying at, a table which you thought was for make-up, considering the beauty items and the led mirror. Also a clothing rack that included her stage outfits, a black lingerie set, and casual clothes. Next to the bed, a small nightstand with its drawer opened, which let you see the variety of sex toys in it. You widened your eyes. 

Miyeon smiled at your reaction. “Come on, come sit with me.” She pat the space beside her and you walked over sitting down.

The woman climbed quickly into your lap, her tits right in front of you while she hadn’t settled yet. Your hand instantly went to her waist, squeezing out of instinct. She wrapped her arms around your neck.

“So… You caught my eye at the crowd… And I saw you couldn’t stop staring at me. So I figured you should be the lucky one I invited backstage tonight.”

“You do this every concert?” You asked curious.

“Not exactly. It depends. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is right now.” She said, leaning in so her chest was closer to you. One wrong move and the fabric could slip off and show you everything. “Take it off me, please.”

And you did. Unclasped the bra teasingly slow. “Play with my tits, please, daddy.” 

And you did. Sucked her left nipple while fondling her right breast. Then switched while taking off her panties.

Miyeon had met a few guys that were this confident with her. And when she saw you enter the one? She thought you would be one of the shy, sweet innocent ones. She regrets thinking that.

Your free hand slipped between her legs, feeling the wetness and spreading all over her pussy and inner thighs. She loved it.

“You’re gross.” You whispered while pinching her clit. “Bringing random guys here just to let them fuck you. Gross.” 

“Yes! Yes I am, daddy! Your nasty girl!” She cried out.

Miyeon’s breaths were uneven, even if you hadn’t even gotten yourself inside her yet. She was sensitive. For some reason, especially with you.

You entered her welcoming hole with two fingers, speedily moving them, making the woman moan out loud. 

“Your cock! Need your cock inside me!” She begged. I mean, you’re just a man. Miyeon begged and she had what she asked for.

Hurriedly, you took off your pants and boxers, fondling with the zipper and having her help you.

You flipped her in the bed, laying her down. You held yourself up with one hand on the bed next to her hair, while the other hand lined up your member with her entrance, bottoming out her inside her clenching pussy.

“Oh gosh! Oh my God! Daddy! You’re so big!”

“Yeah? Daddy’s deep inside you?” You groaned into her ear, never slowing down your thrusts into her cunt.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum, daddy! Daddy! Gonna cum!” Miyeon screamed, her back arching off the mattress. 

“Daddy’s gonna cum too, baby. You’re so tight. Been fucked so much and you’re still tight. Cum for me, Miyeon. Come on.” 

The idol in front of you followed your directions and reached her peak with a loud, very porn-like moan. You quickly pulled out, also cumming but in her stomach, painting her beautiful body with your own release.

“Come on, pretty girl. How ‘bout you get on your knees and make me feel even better? Get me deep in that throat?” You suggested.

Miyeon was quick to get into her knees on the floor, looking at you with those eyes. A need to obey and satisfy her daddy.

The woman wet her lips before leaning in to lick your whole length, pressing a small kiss to the tip. She wasted no time to completely dive in, taking all of your cock in her mouth and throat. 

You pulled her hair, controlling her head. Miyeon bobbed her head up and down, taking you deep in her throat just as requested. 

She pulled out briefly, just to have her sweet, faux-innocent voice ask you if you were close. You nodded, letting out a groan and pushing her head to continue sucking you off. 

After a few more thrusts, you came once again, this time in her mouth. Miyeon swallowed all of it, opening her mouth at the end to show you. “Was I good, daddy?” She asked, words so sweet and innocent considering the not-so-sweet-and-innocent act she had just finished. 

“So good, baby. Deserve a reward, okay? Lay back on your back for daddy.” You instructed.

Miyeon followed obediently and you made yourself comfortable between her spread open legs. 

You leaned in, placing a kiss to her inner thigh, which was wet from your combined juices. She breathed harder at the sensation of your warm breath against her.

Your flattened tongue licking her cunt from her used hole to her clit made her moan out. Oh, such pretty moans. You could get used to them. Waking up to them. Living with them.

“Daddy!! Don’t stop!! Just like that!! Cumming!!! Ah, ah, ah! Gonna cum!” She screamed out.

Then she came, juices wetting your chest and her whole body. “You squirt, baby?” 

“I— I didn’t know I could do that.” She said.

“Well, now you do.” You said, kissing her lips and laying down with Miyeon.

[theamberparadise]

Hello, This is my first time making a request on your block.

Can you do a NSFW and dating headcannon for Jeff the killer and ticci Toby x Jessica Rabbit like s/o ( separately ) , please

HI HONEY IM SO SORRY THIS WAS SO LATE TUMBLR DELETED MY 2K WORD DRAFT AND NOW I HAVE TO DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN IM SO SORRY

TICCI TOBY AND JEFF THE KILLER X JESSICA RABBIT READER

SYPNOSIS; How would Jeff and Toby react to reader who looks like Jessica Rabbit?

TWs; toxic relationship, blood

A/N; hi hon!! welcome to my blog!! im so sorry this was sooo late tumblr hates me sm, i hope you like this as much as i liked writing it!

ps! i assumed reader is also a killer.

"Seriously, what do you see in him?" "He makes me laugh."

TICCI TOBY

The first time he saw you, Toby was beyond bewildered. Were you real or were you another figment of his twisted imagination?

Nonetheless, his eyes were on you now. And he needs your eyes on him.

His first instinct? Flaunting his muscles at you whenever and wherever he can. Getting a glass of water? His shirt is suddenly off. Fixing yourself in front of the living room mirror? He mutters it’s hot then slowly rips off his jacket. Seeing him during training? He flexes his muscles a bit more.

He thinks this is a widely accepted way of getting girls when really it’s so awkward when he does it.

Second instinct? Getting as close to you as he possibly can just to sniff your scent. Even if you’re just leaning gracefully against a counter, he might walk in, head high, shoulders back while he leans right beside you. Not across, not near, beside. Like there aren't any more spots for him to lean on.

“Toby, hon,” you cleared your throat. “You’re getting a little close.” “Am I?” he cocks his head to the side. “My bad, I’ll move aside.” 

He moves literally three inches away.

His third and final attempt? Leaving you gifts! Although it does leave you confuzzled.

One moment your Versace heels are there, and the next second, you hear your door close and now it’s gone. The next day, you wake up to see your Versace heels back again, with a pair of sword heels from Paciotti– in your size.

More of his gifts would include a sketchy brand of lotion from a drugstore, a cracked eyeshadow palette, and a seemingly used lipstick.

You appreciate his efforts but you couldn’t help but feel perplexed.

Once he notices you haven’t been saying “thank you” to him like you should be, he trudges to your door post-mission holding a bundle of snapped flowers that looked like they were pulled from a couple’s anniversary date (it was) with his breathing awry and ragged.

He keeps his eyes steady on yours. And as soon as you asked what was wrong, he shoves the bouquet in your face, like he didn’t cause you to have an allergic attack.

“Fuh–flowers. For y-you.” You gently press the cloud of petals down. “Okay, Toby– Okay, honey.”

He would still press his gaze onto you like you owed him something (which you did) and after about five minutes, he speaks once again. “Why ha-haven’t you wearing m-my gifts?”

You stay silent, backing away as your heel meets the floor again, your face looking to your side.

You feel his thumb and index gently hold your face in the right direction– where he is, and leans even closer than ever.

“I wa-want you. Do you want m-me t-too?”

Ever since you said yes to him, his ego had been fueled to the MAX.

If somebody even slightly mentions you, he’s on them and joining the conversation he had nothing to do with. “Oh, h-her? Yeah, I pu-pulled her. Not li-like you g-guys can do anything ab-about i-it,” that statement earns Toby a nasty black eye, of which he thankfully didn’t feel, but caused his face to swell for a week. He crawls back to you seeking validation even though it was him who started the mess.

He does anything and everything for you if it means he won’t lose a part of his pride like he did last time with Clockwork. Complaining about the heat melting your makeup off? He’s installing a new air conditioner. Notice a rip in your oh-so-glittery dress? He’s suddenly suitable as a surgeon. Need to detangle your hair? He’s treating it like a frail animal.

It’s the same when you’re on missions together. A rowdy victim scuffs your shoe? “That little sh-shit,” he’s off hacking the poor guy to hell.

He blushes shamelessly when you call him "my boy" or "my good little champ" while pinching his cheeks, makes him feel like one of those guys back in his middle school that would steal his crushes.

And although all of this seems sweet, it doesn’t mean it won’t have toxic tendencies.

His jealousy problems can overwhelm the relationship. He immediately jumps to conclusions every time he sees you hanging out with someone who’s not him. “Why were y-you looking at h-him? You’re not th-thinking of talking t-to him, are you?” “Did you go for a smoke with them j-just now? You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

It hurts, yes, but try to actually pursue another guy and he’ll come crying floods with his knees on the floor, gripping on your dress like it’s his life line.

"Toby, baby, no pulling, please." You try to snag the fabric gently from him. "No, no, no, no, don't leave me-- p-please no, I'm s'sorry," he chokes out, "Never again, hon, please,"

NSFW 

The reason why he takes care of your hair so gently and attentively is because he likes to pull on it whenever he’s fucking you from behind or receiving a blowjob from you. Seeing you wince in pain while you’re so used to being taken care of by him is like cocaine.

He memorizes all the spots you like to reveal in your outfits just by him staring at you for hours on end. He uses this to his advantage and cheekily leaves bites on there.

Purposefully buys you makeup that isn't kiss proof just to see your lipstick stain his lips and his cock. Sometimes, he takes pictures of them and sends them to whoever was bullying him recently.

Have a meeting with the major proxies and need to orgasm in the middle of it? No worries, he’s under your dress sucking your clit like there’s no tomorrow.

Loves it when you wear heels during sex. He cums in his pants by the thought of you stepping on his dick with them.

Once he gets home after a particularly frustrating day of missions, he drops down to his knees and starts humping your leg with his bare cock while massaging your hands and arms through your silky gloves.

He circles his thumb on the seams of your long dress while you give him the best titjobs of his life.

Lives for the idea of you having a wardrobe malfunction in front of him and the other proxies. Lowkey a cuck.

Bites every cellulite line he finds, every stretch mark he finds, kisses every scar you might have and thanks you for even letting him.

Moans a little louder than he’s supposed to when you suck on his adam’s apple.

He finds cumming in your hair so enchanting, seeing milky white beads of his honey absorb into your smooth hair has him groaning.

JEFF THE KILLER

“Holy shit,” were the first words that escaped his mouth when he first saw you. 

I mean, how could he not? Look at you, all shiny and pretty, it’s like you were made by an angel from heaven. He’s seen his fair share of hot supermodels and sexy porn stars, but none of them even come close to a creature as beautiful as you.

His approach for you is… not great.

Catcalling, whistling, and pervy pick-up lines were his first thoughts. “ *wolf whistle* Nice tits, dollface!” “ *imitates animal clicking* Here, kitty, kitty.” “Over here, sweetcheeks!”

He does this especially when he knows others are watching. It’s his twisted way of calling first dibs.

Jeff loves how you play hard-to-get with other guys in a smooth, jazzy way. Even more when you do it to him.

When he feels as if you were ignoring him (which you were) he likes to leave twisted drawings of you taped on your door. Nothing too crazy, just you in your usual outfit of glamour and heels, but this time your boobs are way bigger than they are and your butt is wider than they should be. You figure that it’s how he looks at you.

You crumpled his drawings and threw them away? That’s fine, he’ll just go a little bit further and bring you a severed finger in a ziploc bag with a ring still on it. Surprisingly, the ring is actually a real diamond worth fifty thousand dollars. And it fit perfectly, too!

You thank him a day later and he thinks he’s the sexiest man in the world.

He then takes it even more up the road– weirdly just touching your hair with his grimy hands until you turn around and gently ask him to stop. Taking extreme observation of your face like it’s an art piece. Even stealing your perfume and spraying it on him even though he has never come close to even hugging you.

After Jeff feels like it’s time to go in for the catch, he breaks inside your room while you’re sleeping and hovers over you, caging you with his body. You’re still sleeping, face freshly moisturized and pretty. He lets his ragged, heavy cold breath blowing onto your face to wake you up, and once you do he grins even wider than humanly possible.

“Y’know, you coulda been sleepin’ in my bed.”

Once you said yes, he was on top of the world. He got cockier than he should really be.

He makes uncomfortably loud grunting and throat clearing noises to make everybody look at him and you, with his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, beaming wildly like he just caught a bear.

He purposefully makes out with you in public view, not caring about your lipgloss absolutely coating his face

For his bit of toxicity, he isolates you whenever too many people serve as competition.

This stems from his insecurity of not protecting what he should be protecting, so to keep your eyes only on him, he either locks you up in his room or a wide plain full of nothingness.

He ventures and finds you pretty daggers to keep on a garter on your thighs especially if you have a dress with a huge slit, both for show and for protection, even though he’s there beside you practically 24/7.

Goes crazy for you in red. Going out in an all-red outfit for a date? He’s insisting you stay at home.

He lets you use his blood from his mouth slit as lipstick.

Speak to him in that sultry voice of yours and he’s in love forever.

"Jeffrey, baby. Get me my eyelash curler, will you?" "Oh, shit," he groans, throwing his head back. "You sound like sin, sweets."

NSFW

Remember him dragging you back to the house because you wore red? Well, you’re now on the floor, getting plowed into next week.

Also goes crazy for you keeping your heels on during sex, especially when you can’t take it anymore and you’re pushing him off with them, just for him to push your legs up to your ears and fuck you deeper.

He likes it when you keep your dress on while you ride him. It makes the whole thing feel risky– forbidden.

Jeffrey likes you to get messy. One time, you come back from a rough mission looking like utter shit. Hair tangled like matted fur, dress ripped at the seams, stockings ruined, makeup smeared to hell… It took him everything from within to not pounce on you right then and there. Instead, he drags you by the arm, skin bruising under your glove to his bed and makes you look even worse the following morning.

He loves it when you have a full face of makeup and a pretty outfit before you have sex. It’s like a trophy to him– mascara stains on his pillows, your poor dress ripped to shreds on the floor.

Remember your sultry voice? Use it on him when you order him around and his heart will stop. He might cum in his pants without you touching an inch of his pale skin.

He likes making you stumble out of the door, limping out with his cum still inside and your panties in his pocket, leaving you to pray that your dress doesn’t fly up in the wind.

Do you like your bra being stolen from you? I hope so. Because he’s not going to return it after making you strike up a conversation with everyone while your tits threaten to pop out.

He purposefully messes with your clothing, cutting the seams just right so when you put it on it rips at the most ridiculous places. A huge rip from your clavicle to just under your tits. The seam at the slit of your dress lets go when you take a little step.

Loves watching your usually tired and sexy eyes shoot open when he hits that sweet spot.

[fear-is-truth]

idk if requests are still open i hope i’m here in time!!!

do you think the evans have a type, if so what is it?

good luck with university!!!! ^__^

❛ THE EVANS & THEIR "TYPES" ❜

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ kyle spencer ‧ james patrick march ‧ kai anderson ‧ austin sommers ‧ ೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝗢𝟭 ⠀ᰋ

𝓐/𝒏 : i didn’t include physical attributes… so this is more like a psychological profile of their romantic references!

꣑ৎ ‎ :‎ masterlist﹒꒱

⟢ 𝓣𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝓛𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.

tate is most drawn to individuals who exist slightly outside the social current. introverted, often mislabeled as “the misfit”, “the hopeless romantic,” or the “manic pixie dream girl”.

he admires people who are private about their suffering, but are deeply perceptive when it appears in someone else. sensitive soul <3

morbidity appeals to him; though he prefers it genuine rather than stylised/ edgy on purpose. dark humour, fatalistic (or even nihilistic) outlooks, offhand comments about death. he finds solace in those who have made peace with alienation.

tate is intensely touch-starved. he also tends toward enmeshment, and becomes very distressed by perceived distance or emotional ambiguity. (remember the hurt on his face when he tells violet she’s ‘changed’. )

though he doesn’t seek a caregiver consciously, tate is hypersensitive to subtle maternal gestures and leans heavily on anyone who offers emotional containment. #mommyissues

conflict-avoidant to a fault. arguments (even minor ones), raised voices, direct criticism, or visible anger will cause him to spiral entirely. his ideal partner communicates passively or through suggestion—someone who soothes & forgives in advance.

the deeper bond tends to form with whose household is steeped in neglect or control. these dynamics mirror his own and allow for a level of unspoken mutual understanding.

⟢ 𝓚𝐈𝐓 𝓦𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

kit is a family-oriented man, and his romantic instincts are shaped by practicality.

he’s drawn to women who are unapologetically themselves—flirtation and self-promotion don’t really register with him. kit values competence and care, especially when it’s habitual.

i think what matters most to him is moral clarity. a consistent sense of what’s right, and a willingness to live by it.

he avoids drama in every form. emotionally volatile partners, people who escalate unnecessarily, or expect emotional availability on demand… he can’t manage that.

not good with passive-aggression. he appreciates clarity, even if it’s blunt. actually, he prefers the latter.

⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝓚𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝓢𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

despite his environment, kyle doesn’t fit the mold of the archetypal frat boy. he participates in the rituals (e.g. parties, team loyalty, surface-level camaraderie) but emotionally, he’s kind of out of sync with the culture /pos. the traits that draw him in are not status-based or sexually performative, but emotional depth.

emotional intelligence appeals to him. a genuine capacity for perspective-taking. he takes notices on how someone treats people without seeking social reward: how they speak to waitstaff, whether they listen to strangers without interrupting. kindness registers to him as real when it isn’t selective.

empathy matters—but only when it’s sincere. he’s quick to pick up on disingenuous behaviour.

socially, he’s wary of cruelty disguised as humour. he avoids women who mock others to gain approval. it embarrasses him, and it diminishes his interest.

he’s intellectually open, but not academic. what interests him is curiosity, not expertise. a girl who’s an avid reader, asks questions, talks social awareness matters to him.

he’s drawn to girls who are a little introverted, maybe bookish. if she’s artistic, even better—especially if it comes with some awkwardness around her own talent. he’s quick to admire what others are modest about.

romantically, kyle needs emotional reciprocity. he gives a lot—attention, affection, physical closeness—and what keeps him invested is a partner who matches that energy.

⟢ 𝓙𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝓟𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝓜𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

he seeks out a partner who embodies control. he’s most intrigued by those who treat their own emotions as private property.

he loses interest quickly in those who are eager to please. worship bores him; as easy surrender offers no challenge.

sexually, his dominance is complicated by a masochistic streak ! he’s most aroused when his partner withholds, or even better, humiliates him with elegance. his interactions with the countess illustrate this split clearly. in fact, her contempt only serves to excites him. her dominance doesn’t emasculate—it heightens his obsession for her. in other words, pain from someone exquisite is inherently sexy.

artifice doesn’t count as a flaw in his book; it’s a virtue. he associates restraint with superiority.

he’s not looking for emotional reciprocity. what he wants is mutual fixation and obsession.

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝓚𝐀𝐈 𝓐𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

his attraction to women is deeply conflicted. ideologically, he positions himself above them and frames women as emotionally erratic and biologically inferior. but emotionally, he attaches to women who are complex, articulate, and honestly difficult to manage. this paradox defines most of his romantic behaviour. he wants control, but control over the inert bores him. he needs the illusion of struggle.

his misogyny is quite behavioural. he disrespects women as a class but places immense value on individual exceptions—women who have proven their absolute loyalty. his ideal partner is someone who’s articulate and politically engaged, emotionally resilient, clever enough to contribute to the cult, but never eclipses his brilliance.

kai is drawn to strong-willed women, particularly those with a history of trauma that hasn’t flattened them. he values resistance, but only when it precedes submission. women who’ve survived ruin and still function provide him with two essential rewards: fuel his saviour complex and validate his self-image as a transformative force.

his attraction is laced with power anxiety. he wants intelligence in his partner, provided it’s passive. perception, not direction. he admires confidence, but punishes disobedience. the ideal partner maintains a delicate balance: she challenges him just enough to make things interesting, but yields so that his dominance is never in question.

his ideal partner is someone in ideological flux. (e.g. former idealists, lapsed feminists, disillusioned activists) people who once believed in something larger, only to lose it. that absence becomes an opening. he positions himself as a replacement for that lost belief system.

what appeals to him is the aftermath: women who’ve survived ruin and are still functional, still sharp. trauma that didn’t flatten them but stripped away their naïveté.

he values resistance, but only when it eventually bends. strong will is attractive to him insofar as it can be redirected. the perfect partner is someone difficult to win over—to make her eventual submission feel meaningful.

as we all know, kai intellectualises dominance. he couches it in rhetoric, in order to avoid confronting its emotional core: a profound, (often repressed) desire for being ‘mothered’. domesticity is deeply erotic to him when it’s offered without emasculation.

most of his relationships become power experiments—escalations of psychological stress followed by intensely intimate reconciliation. he’s a deeply toxic lover.

being the tension-filled mf that he is, kai needs ideological pushback, emotional distance, sexual withholding—but only until he wins. and he always intends to win.

⟢ 𝓐𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝓢𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒

austin is attracted to people who mirror parts of himself back at him. he seeks provocation, brilliance and theatrical friction. he’s most alive around people who can match his freak.

intellect is a prerequisite, but only when paired with flair. he’s deeply charmed by verbal agility.

he’s drawn to ambition. not just careerism, though. he respects people who want to be exceptional, and resents those who orbit greatness without cultivating their own. his ideal partner isn’t simply a lover but a rival, a muse, a co-conspirator. someone with questionable morals, impeccable taste, and a flexible sense of shame.

aesthetically, he likes androgynous beauty.

 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑-𝐈𝐒-𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 2025 — all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my content. ꕀ

[bewitched-hours]

Hello again, i hope you don't mind another request similar to to the alien! chance and elliot. bc i was inspired by someone's design on Alien Two Time, its made by Two Tylerrr on X.

So here it is...

Yandere! Alien! Two Time x Scientist! Reader.

Fluff and a Oneshot please.

Plot: Where the reader is a scientist and has heard from that the mysterious alien creature was roaming around the city, stealing food and as well leaving slime behind as a prank. so the reader was hired to investigate it.

but little did they know, two time wants them and tends to stalk them at home, and especially keeping them to themselves and then take them to their home planet by turning them into an alien too.

so when they get back home, they get ambushed by two time and gets kidnapped. therefore being with them as an alien forever in space.

Yeah, two time is my fav after all, so yeah

Anyways bye!

this is the link to the mentioned profile by who owns the alien! two time's design btw:

https://x.com/tookiediscs?s=21 (idk if it works, so if you have X, search the username instead)

DAMMIT RHAINE, WAS MY APOLOGY NOT ENOUGH- JK JK, I love yandere alien requests and you taking up Two Time makes it even better~ Had to scroll quite a bit to find the design but it was work it because they look so adorable-

Reader's getting She/Her because I want more women at the top~

You've dedicated your life to science.

You needed understanding and to move humanity forward to greater heights.

Your co-workers knew you as a respectable but overworking person, trying to remind you to take breaks and whatnot because you'd forget time when you were so focused.

Little did you know that your latest work incident would be your last.

Your co-workers were kind and practically dragged you to the break room to include you in their conversations, even if you never talked much. They still appreciated your input because they looked up to you.

But today was different.

"Oh- [Reader]- Have you heard about that alien roaming around?" One of your co-workers quietly asked as you sipped on your morning coffee.

"Alien roaming... No??" You were confused, wondering if they were pulling your leg or something.

"Oh yeah!" Another co-worker chimed in, promptly bumping glasses with you as a greeting. "There's this weird alien that escaped from the government's top scientists and it's apparently roaming the streets and leaving weird slime trails."

Your curiosity only heightened. "Okay, gimme the full run down."

You all promptly sat down at the big table as you began to give them your full attention.

"It's spreading over the news but they're trying not to reveal it's an alien. They're just advising people not to go near piles of blue slime out on the streets and if they see one, they have to call the police." One of them started off, catching your interest even more.

"I have a buddy up there who was studying this alien and he says they have to catch anyone who makes contact with it and wipe their memories of it like in a sci-fi movie." Another co-worker piped up.

"This sounds so fake..." You muttered, though you knew it wasn't. Your co-workers aren't exactly good liars...

"I also heard you're supposed to be pulled aside soon for a special promotion, [Reader]~" Another co-worker teased, batting their eyelashes as you promptly spat out your coffee in shock.

As if on cue, the door to the break room opened and your boss stepped inside. "[Reader], please meet me in my office after your break." She sounded serious but had a rare smile on her face, making you believe this was what you've been working for.

Your co-workers waited until she was gone to congratulate and celebrate with you. They were all ecstatic to see you're getting your well-deserved payoff for all your hard work.

And you were quick to follow orders.

"You wanted to see me?" You entered her office a bit sheepishly, although you knew your boss to be a kind woman. You were also trying not to show too much excitement since you couldn't predict if this was really that promotion you were aiming for.

"Yes, please take a seat, dear." She nodded, motioning to the two chairs in front of her desk where you promptly sat down.

She took a deep breath and took off her glasses before continuing. "As you may know, there's an alien escapee leaving trails of slime behind... And our office has been asked to send them our most trustworthy employee to help them investigate where this alien is and what their slimy trail is made of... So I wanted to ask you if you'd be open for the job."

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest.

"I-I'd be honoured!" Was all you could get out without jumping up from your seat. It made the boss laugh a little as she nodded.

"Very well, you'll be working from home for a few days while we get your stuff over to your new workspace. How about you take the rest of the day off to prepare?" She smiled in that sweet way again...

The sweetness that said "I'm telling you, not asking you, because I don't want you overworked again" and you just agreed, considering you knew she saw you as a friend.

"Tell the kids at least I said hi." You chuckled as you headed out to say goodbye to your co-workers. They were all in a celebratory mood and wishing you well, some even tearing up as you said goodbye.

Overall, you couldn't complain. It was only noon and you were heading back home, noting that the streets were surprisingly empty during this time.

But once home, you couldn't help but be alarmed at the traces of slime by your front door and made a quick call to the police. They surprisingly already knew of you from your boss and told you they'd come by to remove the slime immediately and to avoid making contact with it.

So you had to carefully step over it, entering your house and quickly grabbing the pepper spray in your bag as your steps echoed through your home...

It was way too silent for your liking but you eventually sighed. "Paranoia... Maybe some sleep will do..." You muttered, still keeping up your guard as you put down your bag and hung up your coat.

But while kicking off your shoes, you spotted something out of the corner of your vision.

You quickly turned around to spot it but...

There was nothing?

You groaned, thinking you were going insane as you put down the spray and headed upstairs. Today is such a weird day...

You managed to prepare yourself a bath while you made yourself some lunch, sighing in contentment as you felt proud of your cooking.

And a bath right after eating was just what you needed to relax, letting all the tension in your body fall while the warm water gently carried you.

Enveloping you like a safe blanket as your vision goes-

Wait- why was your vision going dark-

By the time you woke up again, you were somewhere else completely, enveloped not by water but the same slime that you remembered... Wait, where did you remember it from?

It was hard to remember much. most of your life became a blur in your mind but at least you remembered your name...

Confusion warped around your brain in a hot flash, making you panic as the weird cocoon you were stuffed into suddenly opened to have you greeted by a strange blue alien.

"[Reader], I'm so glad you're okay!" They chirped, practically dragging you out onto a cold floor and steam all around. It was actually a little hard to see with the steam and the slime that was still covering you from head to toe.

You were too fuzzy in the head to really ask anything and just gave them a confused look. "Right- Sorry- You're probably still trying to remember." They chuckled a little awkwardly.

"I helped you be reborn into being a higher lifeform like me!" They declared so cheerfully as if they did you a favour...

Did they...?

"We'll get you cleaned up and into some clothes now and I'll answer any questions you have- Though you're probably still a bit overwhelmed and feeling your head spin from your new body." They led you off to a small pool of water where they helped you shower and get rid of all the slime you had on you while you were still getting used to this unfamiliar body.

It didn't hurt or cause any discomfort... Like it was really made for you...

"I'm Two Time by the way! I'll be taking care of you and helping you adjust to your new and improved life!" They spoke so proudly that you almost forgot you were still being cleaned.

You felt light... Like you were floating...

But for whatever reason, you reached out to Two Time, causing a light blush to spread across their face but their grin was never gone.

"Ah... Haha- Do... Do you wanna hold hands..?" They asked quietly, sounding hopeful as they took your hand in their own and instead used their tail to continue helping you.

You didn't protest or move away. Something about this felt right and they were happy you seemed to enjoy their presence. "Why... Don't I... Remember...?" You eventually managed to get out in your foggy state.

Two Time chuckled softly, setting aside the shower head they were using to wash you and gently patting your head. "You don't have to worry about that, my dear~ See it as an ascension! You no longer need to remember what held you back from your full potential and can live in eternal bliss~"

Their words carried an odd sense of comfort in them, making you believe it was for the best as you simply nodded and didn't question them further. You were getting more curious about your surroundings as you noticed you were in some sort of bathhouse.

How did you know that? Probably the memories. Oh well-

They led you out of the bath eventually and showed you a couple of outfits that matched their own. "Choose whichever you like, my dear! I had them specifically made for you!" Their tail wagged behind them all excitedly as you went ahead and picked one you thought was cute, your smile making them squeal a little.

"You'll love it here! You can live with me and be my partner~" Their eccentric attitude made you giggle, an odd warmth spreading over your face as you continued to hold their hand and follow them off to show you around their home planet...

Everyone was nice and welcoming, not a single soul here seemed to even be neutral about you...

Maybe this new life would truly be better than the one you had long forgotten...

Hey, did you know I based this off of a dream I had recently

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[i-dared-myself]

Nicely and Politely

Seonghwa x reader x Hongjoong

Requested sequel to this

18+

Cw: Hybrid au. Smut. Overstimulation, penetrative sex, threesome, heat cycles, mxm smut as well as the mfm.

You’ve settled into life with the cat-hybrid, Seonghwa. You get along with him just fine, and have ‘supervised playtime’ as Hongjoong calls it.

One of Seonghwa’s favourite things is to wait for Hongjoong to come home. He’ll stare at the door in the thirty minutes up to Hongjoong’s arrival, glaring at you every time you tease him for it.

Hongjoong laughs and ruffles Seonghwa’s hair affectionately. “I love seeing you when I come home. I appreciate you waiting up for me.”

You look up from your book with a small sigh. “He’s so desperate. He always thinks he’s better than me, too.”

Hongjoong arches an eyebrow at you. “At least he’s a good kitty. Now you aren’t even happy to see me.”

“I am!” you protest, crossing your arms to pout. “He’s just-“ You cut yourself off before he can hear the rest of that.

“He’s just what?” Hongjoong sharply asks, expression smoothing out. But you know he’s not pleased. This is the calm before the storm. “Well-behaved? Respectful?”

“He’s a suck-up,” you mutter, ducking your head. You hear Seonghwa’s laugh as he glides out of the room, knowing that Hongjoong is absolutely furious.

Hongjoong doesn’t speak for a moment. He stays silent, letting the tension grow. Then he lowly says, “I think you need to learn some manners, bunny.”

You huff and roll your eyes, although your stomach twists nervously. You’ve been punished by him once, and once for a reason.

Hongjoong’s punishments aren’t fun. They’re punishments for a reason.

Hongjoong tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, grinning from ear to ear. “Little bunny, you can run along now. I’ll call you for dinner.”

You frown a bit in bewilderment before padding away, just as he said. Usually his punishments come immediately. You’re never left on edge like this, and neither has Seonghwa.

But maybe that’s the point.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You find Seonghwa in his room, reading a manga. You vaguely recognize it as some romance he had been trying to get you to read.

“Hey,” you softly say, sitting next to him on his bed. He shifts, uncrossing his legs so you can sit on his lap. You settle on him comfortably, leaning back. “You’re reading this again?”

Seonghwa hums, nuzzling against your cheek. His chest rumbles against you, a sign of his contentment. “Yeah. I think you would like it.”

You glance at the pages curiously, snorting in amusement. “That’s just nasty. What are they even doing?”

Seonghwa laughs, closing the book gently before rolling over, pinning you beneath him. He leans down to nip at your throat, no doubt leaving hickeys.

You squirm and try to push him off without putting any actual effort into it. He ignores your half-hearted attempts and sucks a mark beneath your jaw.

A knock at the door interrupts the moment. Hongjoong stands in the doorway, a smirk playing at his lips as he watches. “Oh,” he says, cocking a brow. “You two want to play?”

“Yeah.” Seonghwa grinds against you, making a soft sound of pleasure. His eyes flutter a bit before he’s dragged away from you with a confused whimper.

“Nuh-uh.” Hongjoong clicks his tongue. “Kitty, our bunny here has been acting up. She doesn’t appreciate us, does she?”

Seonghwa licks his lips, tongue darting out quickly. He glances at you before returning his attention to Hongjoong and shaking his head. “No. She doesn’t.”

Hongjoong releases Seonghwa, who falls into place beside him. He strokes his face fondly. “But you’ve been good. You deserve a little something.”

Seonghwa swallows, his throat flexing. You see his Adam’s apple bob. “Uh-huh. I do.”

You glare at them both. You’re not too overly fond of being denied anything, especially not attention. 

Hongjoong sits on the bed and shoos you away as he bends Seonghwa over his thighs. You can only stare as Seonghwa’s pants are dragged down and a bottle of lube is uncapped. The cat-hybrid moans as a lubed finger presses into his ass.

“More,” Seonghwa mewls, lifting his head up to see Hongjoong’s face. “Hongjoong- Sir- More, please!”

Hongjoong smiles fondly, patting Seonghwa’s cheek with his clean hand. You can only look on with envy. “Just give it a second, okay? We need to stretch you a bit.”

Seonghwa nods, wetting his lips. He lets Hongjoong take his time until the next finger pushes in, causing him to shudder.

“Relax,” Hongjoong murmurs, running his fingers through Seonghwa’s hair. He thrusts his fingers in and out, no doubt finding Seonghwa’s prostrate when he trembles and moans. “You need to let me make you feel good, alright?” 

You trudge closer, settling down to your knees next to them. “Hongjoong…” you softly plead, grasping at his forearm as he pumps his fingers in and out of Seonghwa. “Hongjoong, please.”

“Yes, bunny?” Hongjoong doesn’t look at you, focusing his attention on Seonghwa. He pulls his digits out for a moment, examining the slight gape before plunging them back in. “Do you need something?”

You dig your fingers into his flesh, whining softly. “You know what I want…”

Hongjoong makes Seonghwa cum, white smearing across his pants. He helps the hybrid up, kissing his forehead softly. “Did she ask politely?”

Seonghwa glances at you with glassy eyes, nuzzling into Hongjoong. “N- No. she didn’t.”

“So does she deserve attention?” Hongjoong prompts as he strokes Seonghwa’s hair away from his forehead. His touch is soft and affectionate.

“No,” Seonghwa whispers, avoiding eye contact with you. He knows that you will absolutely beat his ass for this later. “She doesn’t deserve it.”

“You’re right.” Hongjoong plays with Seonghwa’s hair, helping him come down from his orgasm. “She doesn’t.”

You let out an irritated huff and clench your hands. “This isn’t fair! Fine! I don’t need you! I don’t need either of you!”

Hongjoong shrugs. “Fine. It’s your choice. But when you realize that you do need us, I expect perfect manners.”

“Well I don’t need you,” you spit out before turning on your heel and marching out of the room. You refuse to give in.

Hongjoong smiles widely, and Seonghwa tilts his head in confusion. “Hongjoong?” Seonghwa gently says. “What’s that look for?”

Hongjoong pats Seonghwa’s thigh. “Bunny doesn’t realize her heat is coming up. She’ll come scrambling back to us in no time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stay strong for two whole days as Seonghwa laps up Hongjoong’s attention. Seonghwa curls up on Hongjoong’s lap when you watch television, you’re often woken to banging of headboards, and the cat-hybrid even tries to eat you out when he misses you.

That gets him a stern spanking as he’s scolded for going against Hongjoong’s orders. You watch with a smug expression, glad that he gave in before you did.

But on the third day, your thighs are sticky and your stomach feels tight. You wander downstairs in the morning, rubbing your eyes and searching for them. Either will do. You just want to be full.

“Good morning, bunny.” Hongjoong kisses your forehead before gliding into the kitchen to make breakfast. He ignores the needy whine that you let out.

Seonghwa’s pupils dilate as soon as he sees you, and he rushes to you. He pushes you over and lays his body over yours, touching every part of your skin that he can. His hands slip beneath your sleeping shirt as he licks your throat.

“Kitty,” Hongjoong warns from the kitchen, cracking eggs into a pan. 

You gasp and shiver as Seonghwa’s teeth sink into your neck. You writhe beneath him and let out a moan as he slots his knee between your thighs, grasping your shirt with his fists.

Seonghwa lets you grind down on his knee, leaving as many marks as he can on your flesh. He’s sucking a hickey onto your shoulder when Hongjoong finally has enough.

Hongjoong throws Seonghwa over his shoulder, leaving you flushed and leaking on the floor. He lifts an eyebrow at you. “So? Have you finally had enough? Gonna admit that you need us?”

You shake your head, squeezing your thighs shut. The movement gives away your desperation and Hongjoong laughs.

Seonghwa reaches for you, but doesn’t fight Hongjoong too much. He doesn’t want to be punished like you are. “Have to- I have to help her. She’s in heat!”

Hongjoong shushes him, placing him off to the side so he can deal with you. Seonghwa grumbles but stays still. 

Hongjoong crouches next to you, watching you for a moment before his lips curl into a smile. “Still have nothing to say to me? I have all the time in the world. But you…” He reaches down to collect some of your slick onto his fingertips. “You won’t have as much fun waiting as I will.”

You whine and rub your thighs together to create some friction. But you’re too wet for it to work and your head falls to the side. “Hongjoong! Please!”

“Ah, there it is.” Hongjoong shoves Seonghwa away as he tries to crawl to you. Seonghwa gets a sharp smack to the thigh and yelps in pain before giving you both space again. “Seonghwa! Enough!”

“But she needs me,” Seonghwa murmurs, eyes locked on you. “She needs me, she needs me, she needs me.”

“And she’ll get you when she asks nicely!” Hongjoong snaps, hooking his fingers into Seonghwa’s hair and holding him away from you. “I’m punishing her. Do you need one too?”

“No,” Seonghwa mutters. “I’ll be good.”

Hongjoong releases him before facing you again, sighing heavily. “Bunny, just use your manners and ask nicely. Admit that you need us.”

Your lower lip trembles, but you still shake your head. You’re suddenly grabbed under the armpits and lifted up to your feet.

Hongjoong herds you to his room, placing a hand between your shoulder blades. “Bend,” he orders, stern voice leaving no room for argument.

You bend at the waist, laying your front over his bed. You clench around nothing as you glance over your shoulder at him, gaze hooded. You won. He’s giving in, and you won.

Hongjoong keeps you like that for a moment, staring at you with an unimpressed look. Then he slaps your ass, humming lowly when you let out a cry. You try to squirm away, but he places a hand on the back of your neck, using steady pressure to keep you in place.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong calls, easing your pants off your legs. “Come here, kitty.”

Seonghwa enters the bedroom, forehead creased and lips slightly pursed. His gaze immediately falls onto you. “Yeah?”

“Are you still loose enough from this morning?” Hongjoong asks, tightening his grip on you as you try to get up again. When Seonghwa nods, Hongjoong sighs fondly. “I remember when you thought you were dominant… Wow, it feels like it was so long ago.”

Seonghwa shifts his weight between his legs. “Uh-huh…”

“Anyways,” Hongjoong says, breaking himself out of his thoughts. “Come here. You can hump the bunny.”

Seonghwa’s eyes light up and he scrambles closer. “I can help her? I can make her feel good?”

“No penetration though,” Hongjoong tells him as Seonghwa lays himself over you. Hongjoong lifts his hand from your neck to help Seonghwa undress his lower half. “Have fun, okay? And don’t worry if she gets all needy. That’s just part of the fun.”

Seonghwa’s hands latch onto your shoulders, and he rocks his hips. You can feel his cock drag between your legs, gliding through the slick.

“Oh, she’s so wet,” Seonghwa moans, digging his fingers into you. His hips thrust faster and he buries his face against you, gaspy little breaths hitting your skin.

You whine, scrunching your hands up in the sheets. “Seonghwa! Want it- I- I need it, please!”

It feels like you’re burning, sweat and slick dripping onto the bed. Seonghwa whimpers and glances at Hongjoong. “Can’t I help her?”

Hongjoong clicks his tongue. “In a second, kitty. But she needs to ask a bit nicer. She’s so close.”

“Please,” you beg, looking up at Hongjoong with watering eyes. “Please, sir, I need it. I need you. I’m sorry- I’m so sorry, but I need you.”

“There we go,” Hongjoong murmurs in satisfaction, removing his belt. He tosses it to the side, along with the rest of his clothes. “Seonghwa, you can fuck her now.”

Seonghwa lets out a sound you’ve never heard from him before, somewhere between the lines of hunger and frustration. He shoves his dick into you, forcing you to take the stretch.

You moan loudly, legs trembling. Seonghwa pushes you further up the bed and starts rolling his hips into you. His fingernails dig into your back before Hongjoong presses him down, the cat-hybrid’s body flush against yours.

Seonghwa doesn’t even seem to notice, lost in helping you achieve an orgasm. He wants to- needs to- help you. You’re his, after all.

“More,” you moan, hiccuping with each desperate thrust into you. You’re consumed by the need for more, more, more.

Seonghwa suddenly freezes, moaning softly into your ear. You feel more weight pressing on you before you hear Hongjoong breathlessly say, “You were right, kitty. Still stretched out nicely for me.”

Seonghwa’s body jolts, and he whimpers pathetically. “No! N- No! I- I can fuck her! I can do it, I promise! Don’t need- hnghh- don’t need the help!”

“Sh, sh, sh,” Hongjoong soothes, stroking Seonghwa’s hair. “Just be quiet, okay? I’ve got you.”

Seonghwa rocks his hips into you, but is only able to get so far with Hongjoong inside him. He huffs in irritation and bites your shoulder as Hongjoong thrusts into him, effectively thrusting into you as well.

“No!” Seonghwa protests, lifting his mouth from your skin. “Hongjoong! I don’t need help!”

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong warns, bracing his elbows near your head. “I thought you were the well-behaved one? Good pets take what they’re given.”

Seonghwa lays his head in the crook of your neck, grunting as he’s fucked. You can still feel it, and the building heat in your abdomen is a welcome delight after so long of nothing.

“Close,” you find yourself gasping out. You twist your neck to see Seonghwa’s expression, wide eyes and parted lips as he takes Hongjoong. 

“Don’t- s’too much,” Seonghwa splutters, overwhelmed by your warmth clenching around him, and the utter fullness in his ass. He scrunches his face up as he cums, cock twitching inside you. “Hongjoong- Hongjoong, sir!”

“Let the bunny finish, huh?” Hongjoong rubs circles into Seonghwa’s back, grinning down at you. “I thought you wanted to help her? Take it and help her.”

Seonghwa moans and drools onto you as he endures more, eyes rolling back until you can only see the whites of his eyes. You finally hit your climax, entire body trembling. The thrusts slow and Hongjoong steps away, grabbing a nearby cloth.

“Not done yet,” you weakly say, spreading your legs again. Seonghwa’s spent drips out of you and his eyes narrow.

“Uh-uh,” Hongjoong chides, grabbing Seonghwa’s wrist before he can sink into you again. “First we need water. Let the bunny rest for a moment.”

Seonghwa only protests a little as you’re given time to rest. He sips at his water and makes you drink, much to Hongjoong’s amusement.

Then he descends upon you again.

Taglist:

@jinnie-ret @velvetmoonlght @hansmic @imeverycliche @iwuberic @mbioooo0000 @ourtimeisrunningouttt @lezleeferguson-120 @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @radioheadlovers @yutasbutterfly02 @fallingclose2u

[springismss]

my needy ass is here again im sorry because your writing has me in a chokehold and the way you portray dabi is just UGGHHH has me salivating each time I read your content 🙏🏻😩

especially the jealous!dabi content 👀 i just love me a possessive man omgomg-

I had a situation at work where this dude who works at the IT department had been hitting on me for a while, (and of course i was clueless) until he decided to ask me out n stuff, all while insisting for me to accept it even when i refused. Not a very pleasant experience cause ugh … men 🤢 but likeeee… I couldn’t stop thinking of Dabi’s reaction to this situation~ casually telling him what happened and him going batshit crazy, or maybe he has an unusual calm which gives you the chills because you have no idea what he will do next? But you can see it in his eyes, the burning inferno of jealousy~

ALSO TAKE YOUR TIME W THIS ONE, no rush at all, remember to take breaks, rest and hydrate yourself 🩵 mwah

ᱬ⛧ only you ~ dabi

pairing: dabi x girlfriend! reader

content: 18+ mdni. work place toxicity (persistent coworker), marking, p in v, slight fingering, implied cum pluging, implied multiple rounds, implied multiple positions, reader is called doll/princess/sweatheart/good girl/baby/cock sleeve/slut (not in a derogatory way), general NSFW content

word count: 2.5k

links: request masterlist | bnha/mha masterlist | masterlist | jealousy, jealousy (dabi's version)

a/n: second post in one day, back with another request. this is kind of linked to the dabi version of jealousy, jealousy (which is linked above). i hope you enjoy this b, my love! as always likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated!

Drumming your fingers on your desk, you rested your chin in your free hand and sighed. Yet again, your work profile wouldn't accept your password despite typing it in correctly. You'd even taken your time, pressing each key and waiting a few seconds to make sure it was typed in correctly.

'The referenced account is currently locked out and may not be logged on to'.

"You've got to be kidding me". Rubbing your temple, you reached for the phone on your desk and pressed one of the buttons near the display. After a few moments, the number dialled and a voice rang out, making you smile slightly. "Hello there, my most favourite girl in the world! What can I do for you?".

"Ryōsuke, I might have locked myself out of my computer. Could you give me a hand?". The line was silent for a moment, causing your eyes to glance at the phone screen, seeing the number still being called. "How have you managed that, angel?".

Raising your brow, you took a moment to catch up with what he said, the sound of his voice bringing you back to reality. "Sweetheart, are you still there?". Blinking for a moment, you swallowed thickly. "Huh, yeah, I'm still here. I may or may not have entered my password incorrectly".

A small chuckle on the other end of the phone sounded. "I'll be right there".

The clacking of your keyboard sounded as you stared at the screen, the jumble of numbers and letters of the code made your head hurt. "And there we go, you just need to enter your new password, okay, darling".

You noticed the pet name again. Chalking it up to him being friendly, you hummed out and tapped your fingers on the keyboard, inputting your new password, completely unaware of the eyes watching what you entered.

That's how it all started to snowball. The constant problems you had that only Ryōsuke could solve. The IT problems that you seemed to have, no one else did.

Then came the pet names. Names that you brushed off as being friendly. The compliments soon followed. How your outfit looked good on you, how your makeup suited your features, how the one particular shade of lipstick seemed to make your lips look even fuller, how the way you wore your hair a certain way really complemented your beautiful face.

Everything seemed innocent enough until one day, you found yourself in a situation that you didn't feel all too comfortable with.

Groaning out, you stretched in your chair, sighing at the popping you felt. It was nearly finishing time, and you were thankful the day had flown over. "Ahhh, there's my girl! I've got something to ask you".

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Ryōsuke standing at your cubicle. "Oh, Ryōsuke, what can I do for you?". Turning in your chair, you faced him and tilted your head, waiting for his question. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out on a date after work tomorrow? Have something to eat and drink, get to know each other a little better?".

The words caused your throat to dry, a lump forming as you felt your stomach drop. "Oh erm... Thank you, but I'd like to just keep this a workplace friendship if that's okay".

Keeping your gaze fixed on him, you saw his brows furrow, features scrunching up as he walked forward, stopping in front of you. Leaning over, he placed his fingers under your chin and tilted your head, his eyes scanning over your features. "Oh, come on, beautiful. I'm sure I could persuade your pretty face to come with me".

The heat in your face increased as you tried to move your head, tried your best to get away from his touch with little success. "Ryō, I....".

"Oh, come on, beautiful, I'll make it worth your while". Pushing your chair back, you took in a breath, hands shaking slightly. "Let me think about it and I'll let you know after work".

While not the answer he wanted, Ryōsuke accepted it and stood, walking away from you, leaving you alone with your racing heart and erratic thoughts. Not before looking over his shoulder and smirking.

Rushing to turn off your computer, you grabbed everything you needed and rushed out of the office. All you wanted to do was get home, get back to the safety of the four walls. Most of all, get back to him, the only person who you'd ever give everything of yourself.

Slamming the door shut, you leaned against it and sighed out, throwing everything to one side as you finally broke. Hand clasped over your mouth, you stifled your sobs, not wanting to alert the other person to your current emotional state.

Only it was too late. The sound of heavy boots thudding caused you to look up, tears slipping down your cheeks as you felt a wave of relief wash over you. "Who the fuck made you cry doll?".

Rushing forward, you gripped ahead of his top, burying your face in his chest as you sobbed out. "Touya, he's gotten worse". At those words, the raven-haired male wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. "Tell me all about it, baby".

Tilting your head, you looked up at him, eyes slightly puffy as you told him what Ryōsuke had said. How he wouldn't take no for an answer, and how he expects you to give him the one he wants tomorrow.

Closing your eyes, you calmed yourself for a moment. Opening them once more, you cast your gaze up, fully expecting Dabi to be wearing that face he does when he wants to get revenge on someone.

Except he wasn't. He looked as calm and nonchalant as ever. And that unnerved you.

The next day came quicker than you wanted it to. The nauseous feeling spreading throughout you. You spent your entire shift purposely avoiding Ryōsuke.

Once it came time for you to finish, you quickly logged out and rushed out, pressing your back against the wall as you sighed out in relief. You'd gone the entire day without seeing him, and you were finally home free.

Or so you thought.

"Ahhh, there you are, my darling!". The sound of the voice made you stiffen up. Your throat drying up, and your palms beginning to feel clammy. Glancing to your side, you saw him. The way he walked towards you made you turn, quickly walking away as fast as you could.

Turning a corner, you thought you were home free until a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you back. Gasping, you stumbled slightly, hand grazing the wall as you tried to steady yourself. "Where do you think you're going? You owe me a date, don't forget, darling".

Tugging your arm, you tried to pull yourself free, the grip tightening more as you struggled. "Ryōsuke, please, I just want to go home". Moving closer to you, he smirked, eyes darkening. "How sweet. You're going on that date with me. Willing or not, the choice is yours".

Opening your mouth to retort, you took in a breath only to hear words being shouted from behind you. "Let her go or my face is the last thing you'll ever see".

Glancing over your shoulder, your eyes softened as you saw Dabi walking towards you. Hands stuffed in his pockets but ready to strike if he needed to. "Get lost, patchwork, this has nothing to do with you".

The heavy footsteps stopped beside you as you shivered. "Don't make me repeat myself. Let her go or I'll be the last person you ever see". Ryōsuke snorted, grip tightening as he pulled you to him. "Don't think I will. She's coming with me".

Feeling a hand grip yours, you looked to your side to see Dabi holding your hand. With a grin, he moved quickly, too quick for you to register.

The pressure on your arm disappeared as a grunt was heard. Looking at the ground, you saw Ryōsuke lying on his back, a bewildered look on his face. It took you a moment to catch up before you felt fingers under your chin, turning your gaze. Looking up, you saw those turquoise eyes you fell in love with staring back at you.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you wrapped your arms around him, face burying in his chest once more. "I'll give you one more chance. Either you leave my girlfriend alone and never bother her again or...".

You felt yourself being moved, back pressing against Dabi as your head was moved to the side. Hot breath fanned the sensitive skin of your neck. Biting your lip, you let your eyes flutter shut as he began placing kisses on your neck. Gentle at first, getting rougher with each passing kiss.

The pressure you felt on your skin shortly after made you suck in a breath, biting back a moan as you pushed yourself into Dabi. Your body relaxed as you gripped onto his arm that was wrapped around you.

With a small pop, you felt the pressure on your neck leave. A dull throbbing left in its place. Eyes burning into your soul as they stared at the mark they left. The same eyes turned their attention back to Ryōsuke. "...I'll make sure my face will be the last thing you see for all eternity".

Before he had a chance to respond, to say what he wanted to, you felt your body being turned and lifted up, thrown over a shoulder as you yelped. Reaching down, you gripped onto his jacket as you tried to get your bearings.

You didn't know how long he'd been walking until you felt yourself being dropped to your feet, and the blood rushing back down your body made you feel woozy. "Fuck sake Touya, you can't just do that".

Placing a hand on the wall behind you, you felt yourself being caged in. Eyes glancing around to see where you were. Rolling your eyes, you huffed. "Of all places, an alley. Really?".

"What can I say, doll, think I need to show you who you belong to". Before you had a chance to retort, you felt your skirt being hiked up, the thin material of your underwear being pulled to one side. "Don't you dare".

You knew it was foolish, Dabi did what he wanted when he wanted. The smirk on his face said it all as you felt him sink two fingers knuckle deep into your cunt without any prior warning. The stretch you felt made you gasp out, biting your lip to hold back the moan wanting to sound out.

"I think it's about time I remind you that this pretty little pussy of yours is mine, and mine only".

Whining out at the loss of his fingers, you gripped hold of his jacket just in time to feel your body being hoisted up, legs spread open as your underwear was ripped. Dripping cunt on display for your boyfriend to see. "Such a needy little slut, already dripping wet for me".

"Fuck, Touya, I need you". Closing your eyes, you arched your back, trying to push yourself down. "All in good time, doll, but remember what I told you to call me when I'm in this mood?".

Chewing your lip, you slipped your hand behind his head, fingers threading into his hair as you pulled his face closer to yours. "Need you to fuck me Dabi, stuff me full and show everyone who I belong to".

Pressing a rough kiss to your lips, Dabi gripped your hips and brought you down onto his cock. The mushroom head splitting your cunt open as he buried himself to the hilt, a moan of pleasure mixing in with the kiss you shared.

Pulling back, a thin trail of saliva connecting your lips together, he took a moment to look over your flushed face. "If it gets too much, remember to tell me, okay, princess".

Nodding your head, you smiled softly, free hand gripping his shoulder as he began pistoning his cock into you. Skin slapping against skin, lips clashing in desperation as he fucked your cunt.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him closer to you, a soft moan passing your lips as he slipped deeper inside. "Fuck, Dabi, feel so good...". Of course, he knew it did; he could tell by the way your walls were clenching around him, trying to milk him of everything.

"I know it does doll, fuck, your pretty little pussy is mine and mine alone...". His thrusts slowed down, dragging his cock out of you slowly before thrusting it back in hard, chucking at the way your back ached as you moaned out. "...Now, let me fill that pussy of yours. Need to have you dripping all of me while we walk home".

Pulling out again, he dropped your legs to the floor as you moved your arms from him, fingers untangling from his hair. Turning you around, he manoeuvred your body before sinking you down once more on his cock, hands keeping your arms pinned behind your back as he quickly thrusted into you.

Mushroom head of his cock repeatedly slamming against that spongy spot inside.

With a desperate cry of his name, you felt your walls clamp around him, as you reached your euphoria. Jaw going slack as you stiffened. "That's my good girl, milking my cock beautifully".

That was enough for him to give in, to paint your insides white as he slammed his hips into you. Cock twitching as he shot ropes of his cum deep inside. Savouring the way your pussy kept him there, keeping his seed inside you.

Letting your arms go, Dabi pulled you against him, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "Well done, doll, but we're just getting started". Running a hand down your back, he smirked at the way you shivered.

"When we get back home, I'll fuck that cunt of yours as many times as I need to. As many times as it takes for you to remember who you belong to...".

Pulling your head slightly, he looked over your flushed face, making sure to etch the image into his memory. "...As many times as I need until youre stuffed so full of my cum, you'll be dripping me for days. I'll mark you so everyone knows who you belong to".

The very thought made your pusys twitch, much to the delight of the male still buried inside you.

And by the time you got home, you found yourself face down against the mattress, fingers gripping the sheets as your knuckles turned white. Tears lined your eyes as your jaw stayed slack.

Whines and moans of desperation and need leaving your throat. Eyes rolling back at the feeling of Dabi's cock stretching your cunt open more. Marks littering your skin and your body trembled, crying out his name for anyone to hear.

"That's it doll, take my cock like the good little cock sleeve you are. I'm going to fuck this pussy of yours all night".

© springismss 2025 - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

[godoreo22]

Saja boys x Manager reader: Part 1

A loss can lead to a gain.

(Name) walks past a few missing persons posters and frowns before entering the cafe they works at. "Sorry (Name) but we're so short staffed I'm gonna have to close this place down but i appreciate all the time you've put into working here." Mrs. Yoon hands (Name) their last paycheck with a sad smile.

"Thanks Mrs. Yoon" (Name) bows her head before walking out the front door and turning back to see Mr.Yoon flipping the closed sign and holding Mrs.Yoon close with a deep frown.

(Name) sighs before walking back home to their small apartment to look for another job. (Name) pushes her apartment open and crashes onto their couch with a groan.

"Poor Mr and Mrs. yoon. Poor me, how am i gonna stretch my last paycheck to cover my rent and food. I can more than likely kiss those Huntrix tickects goodbye." (Name) sighs before going on their phone and looking through job offers and applications.

They scroll for what feels like hours but was realistically ten minutes.

They groan in frustration because all the jobs they see are either have crazy hours, seem sketchy, or have unrealistic qualifications. They prepare to put their phone down but come upon a job offer that catches their eye, Band manager.

It looks sketchy but it is the best they can find so they apply and put their phone down hoping to get a confirmation soon only for their buzz a second later. "Okay, that was a little too soon."

They pick up their phone and see their application was approved, and they received an address and a time to be their. "This gets sketchier the more i get into it but I've gotten this far in so i guess I'll be meeting this band tomorrow at noon."

They sigh and put it into their calendar before preparing their dinner.

The next day, (Name) is up and walking to the address they were sent.

"Okay, this is no big deal, just going to a suspicious address that i got from a kinda creepy job add to do a job I'm probably not qualified for... just gonna have the cops on speed dial. just in case of course." (Name) says to herself as she gets closer to the address.

Only for that address to take her to a expensive looking apartment building.

(Name) is starting to have second thoughts about this, but (Name) swallows their anxiety and walk into the lobby and looks around in awe as they extravagent apartment.

"Uh hi i came for a job at apartment, 185... is that the top apartment..." (Name) looks around a little bit anxiously.

"Oooh... those are our new tenants." The receptionist looks off dreamily before clearing her throat. " just show me some identification and proof you know them and I'll buzz you right in."

"oh uh- they didn't mmm... give me ah..." (Name) fumbles now realizing how unprepared and how sketch this job offer was.

"Honey if you don't have any proof im gonna have to ask you to leave or im gonna call security." This only made (Name) more nervous and they try to find some identification in the ad.

Suddenly they feels a warm hand on their shoulder.

"No need to fuss, we'll verify." A husky cool voice fills (Name)'s ears. They look up over their should to glassy smooth skin and deep dark eyes. Those eyes slowly move from the receptionist down too (Name).

"yeah jenny, no need to press our new manager." Said a much deeper voice only for (Name) cute blue eyes and an adorable baby like face. Suddenly more incredibly hot guys appear too.

"Oh of course boys, j-just wanted to make sure they were legitimately here for the manager position." Jenny stammers

The boys move past her leading (Name) up to their apartment.

"So... i got the job?"

OK so that is the full Part one, hope you all like, so i will put out a few more chapters and this story will be my number one priority but i will also be working on all the other stories even if they didn't win the votes. If anyone has any feedback or ideas they want me to use or even little requests just leave a comment and ill see what i can do because i read every comment and i try to reply to every comment.

Taglist: @sparky2020sworld @imaginarydreams

[wingedhallows]

Can u do dancer!reader X nat scatorccio?

𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

━━ -ˋˏ✄┈

ᯓ ✈︎ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 pre crash! nat scatorccio x dancer!reader /0.6k words ᯓ ✈︎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 kissing, making out ᯓ ✈︎ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 thank you so much for requesting this - it's a little something and i hope you like it!

♡︎ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ♡︎

The studio is filled with soft music—a delicate ballet score chosen by your teacher for the upcoming evaluation—and the sound of your quiet, uneven panting.

You’ve been at it for hours. Skipped lunch again, just to nail the damn transition after the arabesque. Your leg moves, the motion familiar and fluid, but something’s off.

The angle, the weight—something. The arabesque lands, but it looks more like a dying swan than anything remotely graceful.

“Last one in the studio again?”

Her voice doesn’t startle you—it washes over the piano notes like silk, smooth and warm. You turn slowly, a smile already tugging at your lips before you even see her.

There she is—Nat.

Still in her soccer jersey, hair tousled like she’s just come off the field, and that trademark smirk curling at her mouth like she was born with it.

“Always,” you reply, tilting your head slightly, letting your muscles finally relax. One hand rests behind you on the barre for support as your chest rises and falls a bit too fast.

You’ve pushed yourself. Again.

“Well…” She strolls across the room, slow and cocky, holding an iced coffee like it’s a trophy.

“I brought caffeine and my company—you’re welcome.”

You push off the barre and meet her halfway, your arms winding lazily around her shoulders. She doesn’t miss a beat—leans in and presses a kiss to your jaw, quick but electric.

Your pulse jumps like it always does when she touches you like that, like it’s the first time all over again.

“You’re a hero,” you murmur against her cheek as she slips the cool drink into your palm.

“Just fulfilling my girlfriend duties,” she teases, her voice low and fond. “Since someone doesn’t know when to take a damn break.”

Her hand finds your waist and she gently steers you down to the studio floor.

You sink onto the wood with a soft exhale, and she settles behind you, legs tangled with yours. You take a sip of the coffee—cold, sweet, perfect—and hum softly in appreciation.

“I’m just caught up in this routine,” you sigh. “It’s impossible.”

Nat hums again, low in her throat, and pulls you into her lap. Your thighs part and fit around hers without hesitation, like your bodies already know the steps.

“Sounds like you need a little distraction,” she murmurs, her hand trailing slowly up your side.

You place the cup on the floor beside you, a smile tugging at your lips. “Do I now?” you ask, your voice quieter now, tinged with teasing.

“Mhm. I think so.”

She leans in and presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw, then another at the corner of your mouth—soft, coaxing.

Finally, her lips find yours, and the kiss deepens quickly—hot, slow, consuming. Your hand slides up to cup the back of her neck as your mouths move in sync, tongues tangling with an intimacy that makes your heart race.

She grins into the kiss when a soft, involuntary sound slips from you.

“There she is,” she breathes against your lips, voice a little smug, a little tender.

You hum softly before leaning back in, lips finding hers again as your fingers slide into her hair, gently tugging at her scalp.

“Eager, are we?” she murmurs against your mouth, her hand tracing slow, soothing lines up your spine.

“I’m done practicing,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. Your lips are kiss-bitten, flushed, still tingling. “Let’s go home.”

Nat tilts her head, gaze lingering on your face like she’s memorizing every detail. That soft, familiar grin spreads across her lips.

“Sounds good, baby.”

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; viktor

requested by ; mod / self indulgent

fandom(s) ; arcane

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; viktor

outline ; “dating hcs for viktor”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

one of the most important things to realise about viktor when you’re dating him is that he’s not shy, he’s just introverted — he has a few select people who he likes and will happily spend time around, but large parties and overpopulated venues just aren’t really his scene (which is why jayce is usually the one sent out to deal with those things). and if you’re one of the people he trusts, loves even, then you’re more than welcome to come and seek him out whenever you want… just don’t interrupt him when he’s actively working on something because there is a very solid chance that it might explode…

viktor doesn’t really do pet names and would rather you both just call each other by your first names instead — but if it’s really important to you then he’ll occasionally, in private, use a more old fashioned pet name like ‘darling’ or something else along those lines

not a very tactile person but is generally okay with hand holding, kissing, and the occasional cuddle if it’s with you — but only when you’re alone or amongst friends as he’s just not a fan of pda (unless you count, like, standing or sitting together as pda because that he’s perfectly fine with)

viktor is an extremely good listener when he’s not… you know… actively working on something that requires his full attention. though you might not necessarily realise just how closely he’s following your stories until he offhandedly asks you about someone or something you briefly mentioned a few weeks after the fact

(and for as sweet as this usually is, it also makes him a complete nightmare to bicker with because he is exceptionally good at proving you wrong)

words of affirmation is one of his major love languages so it almost goes without saying that the praise and assurances viktor gives you are all worded and timed with intention and are never anything short of genuine. he’s not the type to shower you in compliments or anything like that, but he always means what he says and doesn’t give you any room to argue with him about it (especially if you struggle to accept compliments or praise)

his favourite place to be kissed is his hands, but the quickest way to (albeit briefly) fluster him is to kiss the moles on his face

acts of service is another love language that really speaks to viktor and, while he may not always say it aloud, he always appreciates it whenever you go out of your way to look out for and take care of him — especially when he’s so caught up with his research and hextech that he starts to neglect his own health a bit

(and your acts don’t need to be grand feats or exhaustive endeavours to make him smile either, even something as small as leaving notes around the lab to remind him to take breaks or draping a spare blanket across his shoulders when he falls asleep at his desk so he doesn’t get cold is more than enough to make him smile)

doesn’t really get jealous, but he has no problems with stepping in when he notices someone making you uncomfortable and disrespecting your relationship

has a bad habit of getting too wrapped up in his work and kind of just… forgetting about everything else. it’s not that he intends to miss dates or neglect you, he just gets really into whatever he’s doing and before he knows it he’s been stuck up in his workshop for a week — though he is always very apologetic after the fact and does try his best to make it up to you (even if his attempts can come across as a bit clumsy sometimes)

he’s never mean with you — or, rather, he tries not to be too blunt or too snippy with you once you become an item — but viktor will let you know when you’re being stupid. lovingly, of course, and without malice as he’s only trying to stop you from getting hurt or embarrassing yourself in front of others (even if in the moment it feels more scolding and mortifying for you) because he cares

he thinks you look the most cute when you’re super focused on something, or when you’re raving to him about something you’re passionate about

it’s very difficult to catch viktor off guard enough to make him genuinely flustered, but if you time your flirty remarks just right you will get to see his cheeks gain a very faint pinkish hue for a few moments before he regains his composure and shoos you away

[martygraciesversion381]

RUN FOR THE HILLS

lando norris x piastri!reader

warnings: smut, pnv, oral(f!recieving), rough lando, daddy kink, squirting, slight angst, feelings

summary: you're Oscar Piastri's little sister and you and Lando always hated each other. So how did you end up in this weird situation with him? That's what you're asking yourself too

song: run for the hills by tate mcrae

a/n: so.....hope you guys will follow till the end

COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED!!

requests[closed for now]

masterlist

series masterlist

Your feelings for Lando didn't go away, in fact they only grew stronger the more time passed. You spent all of your late nights thinking of him, of how life would be different if he felt the same.

This weekend you were in Austing for the race. USA was a place you've always wanted to visit but with the weight of your feelings for Lando on your shoulders, it wasn't such a good experience.

You kept on a smile so that Oscar wouldn't worry too much before his race but of course, since he was your brother, he saw right through it but decided not to adress it.

It was qualifying day and you walked into the paddock hand in hand with Oscar putting on your brightest smile for the cameras. You went over to the Ferrari garage to see Alexandra before qualifying started.

"Hey Alexxx!" You nearly shouted when you saw her.

She squeeled in happiness and went over to hug you. The two of you chatted a bit of the latest gossip before you had to go back to McLaren.

Oscar found you with your headseat over your ears. He walked over to you and wrapped him in a tight hug kissing your head. You held onto him tightly. He felt like your only light, like home. And even if, like any other brother, he liked to annoy you, he was still the person that made you feel safe and loved all of the time.

He bumped your forehead with his, like you used to do as kids when he karted. Then he walked over to his car. You watched qualifying from his side of the garage.

Lando P1

Oscar P5

Not Oscar's best result in the last races but your brother was okay with it. The drivers had organised a dinner so you both joined them and of course you ended up sat next to Lando.

"What are you gonna eat?" he asked.

"Dunno...." you answered not looking up at him and he frowned wondering what had happened. You hadn't talked to him all weekend and it wasn't usual from you.

Once you all ate, he insisted on driving you back since the both of you were staying in the same hotel room.

When you reached the elevator he was on you, pressing your back against the wall and pressing his lips to yours.

"Lando" you gasped between kisses.

"Need me to take care of you pretty girl? Want to come to my room mh?" he asked and chuckled when you nodded.

That's how you found yourself naked in Lando's bed, with his head burried between your thighs lapping desperately at your clit. You were crying out his name while gripping his hair tightly.

"Y'gonna come for me babygirl?"

"Yes daddy" you answered without thinking.

He groaned into your pussy and thrust his tongue into you furiously making you shaked on the bed, wave after wave of you orgasm crashing onto you.

He climbed back over you to kiss your lips roughly before turning you so you were on all fours before him.

"Look to that pretty ass....all for daddy right?"

You nodded as he fisted his dick in his hand bringing it closer to your dripping pussy. He pushed into you without warning, his hands gripping your hips tightly as yours grabbed the sheets.

"Fuck so tight baby...gonna let daddy use you yeah? let him fuck you full?"

"Yes daddy please" you moaned as he started to move inside of you.

His pace was fast and rough, making the headboard bang against the wall and the bed creak. He was hitting all of the right places like he knew your body by heart. That thought scared you but you quickly brushed it away feeling your high approaching.

But, something felt different, your eyes widened as you realised what happened but it was too late. You were moaning and spasming around his dick as you squirted all over him, drenching his stomach, thighs and the sheets.

"Holy shit that's so hot baby" he groaned as his pace grew more franatic.

He reached his high, burrying himself into you and spilling his seed. He laid there panting before pulling out making sure not to hurt you.

"You okay?"

"Y...yeah just....new"

You both fell asleep in each other's arms.

When Lando woke up you weren't there anymore, it was weird since you always spent the night over. But what was weirder was how you avoided him before the race.

On your side you were thinking back to the night, your feelings for Lando coming back to the surface. You ignored him all day even when, after getting pole he ended up 4th. You knew that he was disappointed but you weren't strong enough for this....at least not now.

Instead you spent your time with Oscar as he celebrated his 5th place knowing that you were complitely fucked.

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[employee070]

Intro?

hmm... yeah I guess I'll call that an intro of sorts... I was made aware of this platform by another employee while in the break room, so I thought I could... give it a try too? especially since it might be easier to communicate with everyone? Even though I... don't talk that much because of my position... as the Archivist, I take notes and add stuff in the archives really... I'm mostly a spectator of all there is to happens in here or... out of bounds if I can say that...

But enough of my rambling...

This is the Archives, my humble "domain" or office if you want to call it that, despite its size.... Here I keep track of all that I find to archive and well, archive them. Employee, entity, objects, or even places, you'll find it and could even access it if you need. Yet I euhm... not all of them are accessible to everyone... and the "Archives" aren't really happy if anyone tries to snoop around to access something they aren't allowed to... so you are warned. Just... please don't try this, they aren't as forgiving as I am....

Anyway, euhm... You can ask me things, I guess, or you can help me by telling me if you find anything worth archiving, I'd appreciate it... You have no idea how hard it is to do it on your own....

Ooh and euhm... here's my ID too, I know it looks a little old but heh... I've had it for as long as I remember... even when I asked for the new one, the higher-ups denied my request :'/

This is an RP blog for the Employeerverse, happily brought to you by @lexumpysfunland :D Yeah I always arrive a little later for these kinds of things, but I'm trying... I might tie this to other things too... who knows 👀

[etclouie]

hey i'm not too sure if this woild be your thing, would you ever write a james x sirius x reader fic? and if you did could you consider this prompt?¹¹⁴⁾ “the dog, for all his failings, did not do that and i’m taking it personally on his part that you’re trying to claim he did ”

title; broken glasses and happy dogs (poly!prongsfoot x fem!reader)

prompts; “the dog, for all his failings, did not do that and i’m taking it personally on his part that you’re trying to claim he did” — from three hundred assorted dialogue prompts 

warnings; established relationship, sirius is a dog joke lol, sirius accidentally breaks a glass + james cleans it up, pure fluff (490 words)

a/n; to say i’m actually so sorry for the amount of time it’s taking me to get to these requests, the uks going through a heatwave and it’s wiping me

one year masterlist | main masterlist

— come celebrate my one year!!

you had been in the living room with Sirius when it happened, his tail wagging with his contentment until he accidentally made a glass fall to the floor. 

it shattered loudly, gaining James’ attention from the bedroom with a confused expression. 

“woah what happened?”

his eyes flicked between you and Sirius, who’s tail was no longer wagging, his head tilted away as you spoke. 

“Sirius knocked a glass”

that made James’ express change, his confusion gone and now replaced with a scepticism. 

“the dog, for all his failings, did not do that and i’m taking it personally on his part that you’re trying to claim he did”

James protested, hands resting on his hips as Sirius moved towards him, paws padding against the hardwood floors. 

he nestled against James’ jean clad leg, as if siding with James against you on the matter. 

“James, i watched him knock it over”

his hands still rested on his hips, sceptical of what you were saying. 

“baby would Sirius ever do such a thing?”

you matched his position, hands on your hips and flashing a look of disbelief his way. 

Sirius made a noise, all while remaining against James’ leg which made you shake your head. 

“i watched him do it James. he just needs to be more careful, or you could put your glass in the sink when you’re finished with it”

his scepticism turned into an apologetic frown, moving towards you and cradling your face in his hands. 

before you had the chance to say anything, or Sirius had the chance to protest, James leaned in to kiss you softly. 

you only pulled back as Sirius moved between your legs, pawing for either yours or James’ attention away from the kiss. 

it made you giggle, one hand on James’ chest while the other scratched between Sirius’ ears. the touch made his tail wag again, slapping against James’ leg with the force of his happiness from your scratches. 

“good boy Siri, know you didn’t mean it”

James huffed, a small pout on his lips and his hands trying to pull you back to him, even with Sirius’ incessant slaps against his legs. 

you couldn’t help your giggles, untangling from James’ hold to sit on the couch. Sirius followed after you, curling into your side while James moved into the kitchen to grab the brush and dustpan to clean up the glass. 

“how did i get left cleaning this up?”

he asked once he swept up the last few shards of glass, carefully disposing of them before coming back to you and Sirius. 

“you went and got the brush yourself, besides, Sirius wanted cuddles. can you blame this face?”

to punctuate your words, you carefully held Sirius’ face, a lopsided grin on his face as he looked up at James. 

he sighed, shaking his head in disbelief before he chuckled softly, settling into the couch next to you. 

“guess not, but you’re cuter love”

reblogs are highly appreciated !