#he knows how to take care of it and HE DOES

[pichichuu]

Abby Headcanons!

Kpop demon hunters, n$fw/suggestive, so mdni! mostly gender neutral but a few fem reader pieces here and there

a/n: i am such a freak for abby this man has me so inspired i need him kashkjfh... let's pretend that he wouldn't get like completely canceled for some of the more... public aspects of this

possessive man. if you go out in public together he ALWAYSSSS keeps a broad hand on your lower back. sometimes he'll stand behind you and hold you against him with two hands on your hips.

he's such a tease too. i mean we see how he acts with his abs for his fans but if you two are involved?? he does not hold back. will walk around the apartment shirtless constantly, band of his boxers peeking from his sweats. will stretch and manspread and lay back on things like crazy because he knows how his v-line draws your eyes to his bulge

he's also the type to keep a towel on for a little while after his shower, a smaller one laid across his head or around his neck. desperately wants you to notice the water dripping down him and catch you staring. will for sure tease you about it if he does.

touchy touchy touchy touchy man. will stand with his arm propped on your shoulder, put his legs on your lap on the couch, pull you into his lap, lay on your shoulder and groan about how bored he is, wrap a hand around your waist to pull you wherever he wants to go, and if you're shorter than him he'll put his chin on your head in conversations with others, hugging you from behind. he just loves the contact and having something to lean on

he drives you CRAZYYY how he looks at you, especially from between your legs. bro has a lethal stare and loves how you squirm under his gaze. he'll hold your hips close to his face with a firm grip, knowing you aren't intending to wriggle away from him

i just know he's such a smooth talker. he'd curl long fingers inside of you while flirting as if he hasn't already gotten you into his bed

loves shower sex. i can't explain why but i just know this is the truth

i feel like he would bite you occasionally when he cums. definitely is into marking aside from that, though. he likes leaving hickeys on you, but LOVESSSS when you give him hickeys. would for sure wear an almost completely unbuttoned top the next day to show off your scratches on his chest and the bruises littered across his neck

he's so cocky. feeds on the questions and looks he gets from the other saja boys when they see your artwork. he's a secret exhibitionist... honestly, he might not even realize it himself.

probably steals panties let's be honest... i just know he has a crazy sex drive and fs takes care of it himself pretty often. he likes to surprise you with it sometimes, shamelessly leaving his cum in them on top of your laundry hamper.

finally, he's more obsessed with you then he is with himself lol. he knows he looks good but he also knows he'll never look better than when you're standing next to him. he's so whipped and so horny for you.

[niccolites]

a gouge in the wood - unfinished 1.7K words came back wrong au, simon 'ghost' riley x reader cw. violence

The thing wearing your ex-husband’s face stands in your living room and watches you.

You map out where he’s standing, the muck on his boots, flaking off and sticking to your wooden floors. There’s a mad moment where you think it may not be him - might not be Simon. Some other threat, that is raising the hair on the back of your neck. Some faceless military grunt, here to string you up, just like Simon had always feared they would.

You know him though, even when you cannot see his face. Something beyond knowing just the curve of his shoulders, like how he holds his right just an inch further back than his left. Where your amygdala takes over at the sight of him, like you know what he is before you think of his name.

You also know that it cannot be him, when you identified him on that cold autopsy table just a few hours ago.

You hover in the open doorway, eyes on him as if that will stop him from moving, and consider your options. You could run out the door, screaming, but you know his bulk belies his speed. You may make it back onto the step behind you before he caught you, but you wouldn’t get further than that.

You flex your keys in your hand before you step inside and let the door swing shut behind you. His eyes track your movement, dead on, centre. You wonder if you should stop thinking about it as a ‘he’ but rather something else. Something unknown, something that’s alive and grown and decided to invade your home.

“If you’re trying to intimidate me, can you knock it off,” you say, voice slightly tilted as if you want to make it a question. It doesn’t move. “What do you want?”

Now, that generates a response. Tiny, but a slight shift of his head. You’re too far away, but you like to imagine you can see his pupils flex. So, it does want.

Something about that, desire in something that you do not understand, has your body choosing flight. You flinch back, hare brain kicking you towards the door, and it’s on you.

You’re knocked back, skull rattling back against the door, its forearm braced against your chest and the other around your jaw. Thumb pressed into bone, catching sound there and stealing it.

You blink up at him, restrained. It’s Simon, you know it now that he’s closer. His dark eyes, you’d thought he still had his paint on his skin but you can see that it’s a bruise now. It’s also not. Maybe Simon was a little heavy handed in a way that you knew your friends wouldn’t like if they found out, but this was a new level. Simon always knew that the best way to corral you was to create the perimeter around you and let you tire yourself out. Patient, in the way that predators are when they crouch in high grass.

“Simon?” you wheeze, dots around your vision. A question.

The thing wearing your ex-husbands skin says your name. An answer.

You swing your hand up and only feel a brief satisfaction as it cuts the side of his shoulder. The feeling disappears when he doesn’t even flinch as he yanks your keys out and lets them drop to the floor with a terrible clink.

You shriek, muffled under the paw of his hand and he rattles your skull against the wall.

Your vision goes blurry, as if you have been submerged underwater. Pain blossoming out with each thump of your pulse, weighted and red.

You crumple but you’re caught and dragged upwards. You feel like you’re made up of static, as if someone has yanked the station and you’re hovering in some no man's land, an irritating buzzing noise that needles until it's fixed.

Given the way that you’re being carried, tossed over a shoulder and limp, you are placed on your couch with a lot more care than you expect.

You slump to the side, and the black lump that must be Simon - or whatever it is - shifts up and slants a cushion under your head.

He’s saying something, but you feel groggy, sickly. Unable to do anything other than stare at your coffee table as the sounds filter through to you. Water through paper, soggy and ruined.

Simon reaches up and takes off the balaclava, and he looks like he did on that cold table. Stubble grown out, you know he must be complaining about not being able to access a razor. Bruises cutting across his temple to his eyes. They said a bullet to his head. The way that you put down a dog.

“Fuck off,” you slur. He doesn’t crack a smile. He crouches down further in front of you so that your faces are level and you feel peculiar about being so close to his bare face. There had been a layer of deniability that you hadn’t truly believed when he’d been wearing the mask. At least you could maybe start to kid yourself that it isn’t him. The wrinkle of his brow, unbearingly intimate, this close to your eyes.

He reaches his hand out and into your hair. Pain whites out your vision - station found and blaring - and you whimper. “What -”

“Do you feel nauseous?” he asks, pulling his hand back, a jerk in his at your pained noise. He squints at his fingertips, the back of his hand against your cheek. His skin is so cold against your own, a block of ice against your fever.

The pain beats like your heart, and you can barely formulate a thought to force it out as a sentence. You blink at him, dumb and mute.

He shifts his hand and cups your cheek to hold your head steady. A balm, drawing sickness out of you and into him. You shut your eyes, inhaling deeply. A smell of dirt and moss lingers on him, the outside, dragged into your living. “Do you feel nauseous?” he repeats. The LT voice, commanding.  You grit your teeth against it, petulant.

“Yes, you fuck,” you groan, refusing to open your eyes again before you sick up all of the food that you ate that day.

He’s satisfied with your response, hand still as steady but melds into the curve of your face. Thumb on your temple, smooths your baby hairs out of your face. Like an apology, like you're a stunned bird in his hands and he didn't mean to break your wing.

“You’re dead,” you say, when he doesn’t move. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your face, but refuse to open your eyes to the rollercoaster that your body is on.

He grunts in response, knees clicking as he shifts on the floor.

No comforting response is forthcoming. You think of the bullet rattling around in his skull. No death will take, not even the real, permanent kind. It’s so ridiculous that you feel a manic laugh start to bubble up in your chest but you stifle it before it can escape.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he barks, shaking your head to jostle it until you cry out.

“Fuck you, asshole, I hope I fall asleep and die, you fuck,” you whimper.

He doesn’t have a further response to that, but stares you down until you stare back. Awake, against your will.

You drop your gaze to his shoulder, can see the cut in his jacket, where you managed to dig your keys in. You reach a hand up and press your thumb into the fabric, trying to part it to reach his flesh.

He lets you, his gaze still heavy on your face as if waiting for you to suddenly fall asleep. The look in his eye is different, but the weight of his attention is the same as it was before. Encumbering, to be loved by Simon. He had clutched on with both hands, but always had the stiff back as if waiting for the command to curl up and die.

You realise that you’re seeking something here that you cannot find in his hands. Some type of truth that touch will provide when your eyes won’t confirm it. His hands could be that cold for any reason. But here, in the meat of his shoulder, this is where you used to tuck your head under when it was cold at night.

There’s no comfort here. Simon is a stiff wall of flesh under your palm. Goose-flesh rise up all over your skin, your body finding a truth that you don’t want to acknowledge. Unsettling, like seeing something out of the corner of your eye and actually catching it in the full of your vision. 

You drop your hand, unsettled, and stare at a point over his shoulder.

Once he’s satisfied that you’re not going to drift off and get yourself killed, he gets up slowly. It’s unnerving, watching him move out of your vision and he completely disappears. He’s soundless, the faint shuffle of clothes as he moves before that disappears as well. If it wasn’t for the wet smell of mud that he’s left, you wouldn’t have known that he was in your home at all.

You stare out at your wall, unseeing. Fear of the thing in your home stops you from closing your eyes like you desperately want to. Sleep like molasses that drag your limbs down and leave you heavy. Drift downward like a weighed anchor, drowning.

Time slips away, meaningless. Memories feel like silk, forming in your mind before fluttering away, entire minutes forgotten. One moment Simon isn’t there, and then he’s back. The time between smacks together until it is thin enough to wear through in your mind. “It’s you,” you slur, although you don’t think he is.

He grunts, and reaches beneath you and hoists you up into his arms. The world takes a sharp turn and takes your vision along with it. You groan unhappily, but he ignores you and slings you around until you’re across his shoulders.

A mountain of a man, you had thought once. The view from the top is horrifying now that you’ve reached the peak, you tuck your head into his shoulder to hide from it. You wish he would hit your head again, you don’t remember your last journey up here just a few minutes ago.

“Where we goin’?” you ask, mouth choked in the cotton of his jacket.

“Out,” he says, helpfully. You throw your leg out in a pathetic attempt to kick him, which is so sad that he doesn’t even acknowledge it.

He opens the door of your car and places you in the passenger seat. His hand on your throat as he steadies your head.

It’s starting to rain, fat droplets that smack against the roof of your car.

“I’m going to pass out,” you let him know, polite, at least. The shift of his brow as he goes to snap at you again, but you’re yanked down into a pillowy darkness and you much prefer that company to this one.

[lomlsatoru]

BACK TO YOU — JINU ࣪ 𖤐.ᐟ

summary: he comes back home. to you.

content: fem!reader, angst, happy ending, a kiss, ~800 words, i dont really know what to feel abt this but lmk what you think!

a/n: he lives!!!!! (i yelled as they dragged me inside the asylum)

★☆ ★

Heart heavy. Eyes puffy. Mind foggy.

Why did you decide to get attached to a demon in the first place?

Sucks on you.

The air in your apartment was chilling, making you fall farther back into your mattress. Blanket covering your body as you stare at your ceiling.

The girls have come knocking, wanting to make sure you’re still alive because of how long you were cooped up.

You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything after the incident.

Part of you almost feels stupid, how are you letting his death affect you so much? You haven’t even known him for that long.

“Then, why does it hurt so bad?” you whispered to yourself, tears streaming down your puffy cheeks.

Suddenly, the sliding door to your balcony opened, adding the cold wind sweep across your room. You startled awake, rubbing your eyes to get your vision in focus as you walked to the balcony. The city looks almost ethereal with the golden honmoon.

Your body jumps in shock when you notice the huge pair of bright eyes staring at you. “Tiggy?” crouching down, the tiger slowly moved closer, snuggling closer to your hand and chest, “What are you doing here baby?” 

“Why? A guy can’t see a pretty girl anymore?” 

Your heart drops. Fingers stopping scratches on the tiger’s head, not brave enough to look up. 

His voice. No. No way. Your head is playing tricks. 

Shaking your head, you muttered to yourself, “Nope. No. I’m just dreaming.” hiding your face in the tiger’s fluffy fur, “This is so not funny.” 

Jinu’s chest clenched at your voice, taking slow steps until he is crouched in front of you, “Hi, sweetheart.” 

You blinked your tears away, hugging the tiger tighter, “Go away.” voice so fragile, so tired. 

The man leaned forward, his hesitating hand hovering above your head. “Hey, look at me.” slowly dropping his hand to the back of your neck as his thumb grazed your skin comfortingly. 

You shook your head, “You’re not real.”

His eyes softens, realising how much pain you are in, “Yes I am. I’m right here.”

With all the courage that you possess, you brought your head up. He’s right. 

He is right here. 

Right in front of you. 

He smiles warmly, gazing at your face, “Oh, princess.” he brings his palm to the side of your face, heart clenching when he notices your tear streaks, puffy eyes and runny nose. 

You sniffle, leaning into his warm palm, “I miss you so much.” a pout forming on your lips.

Jinu has to stop himself from grinning at how cute you looked, choosing to peck your cheeks instead, “Missed you too.”

A moment passed by as you stared at each other. Before the whole situation crashes on you fully, anger and grief overcome your system. 

Everything was so overwhelming. 

Shoving his shoulders back, “Where the hell did you go?” you yelled, standing up and stomping inside your bedroom. Picking up the pile of clothes on the floor and putting them inside of your wardrobe. 

He didn’t even move when you pushed him. He understood. He would be in pain too. 

He sighed. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. 

“I had to take care of some stuff before I can see you.” carefully moving into your room, he surveyed the mountain tissues on the side of your bed, “You really missed me, huh?”

You scoff, “Shut up.” stumbling when the tiger tried to cuddle to your leg, making you smile. 

Jinu softly grins at the sight of you, nose still red and sniffling, hoodie engulfing your figure. You look soft, sweet, vulnerable. 

He stops right behind you, body so close you can feel how warm he is, “I miss you too.” he whispers. 

Letting out a shaky breath and biting your lip in nervousness, you slowly turned around and looked up to meet his eyes, 

“There’s my girl.” he smiles, rough fingers caressing your cheek. 

“I never want to feel like that ever again.” you lean into his warm palm, holding his wrist. 

He leans in, your breaths mingling with each other, “May I?” his thumb not stopping grazing your cheek.

You nod, letting him lean down to slot your lips together. The kiss was slow, calming your screaming thoughts, as you scrunch his jacket in your hands.

“Fuck.” he whispers against your mouth, moving more desperate, his hands moving to grip your waist to bring you closer. “Missed you so much, sweetheart.”

Giggling, you break apart to take in more breaths, hands now on the back of his neck, fingers grazing his skin making him shudder. “I might go on a wim and say that you missed me.”

He laughs and kisses your forehead, pulling your head to rest against his chest and hugging you as he lays his head on top of your head. 

For a demon he has a really loud heartbeat.

“Your heart is beating so fast.” you chuckled, wrapping your arms around him, fully melting into his embrace. 

Jinu’s cheeks went warm, he coughs, “Shut up.” backing away and meeting your eyes again, “I’m not going anywhere.” a pause, “Promise.” 

“You better not.” you shove his shoulder.

He laughs, pulling you closer.

“I’m home, already.”

reblog for a kiss 😛😛

[lazysoulwriter]

you strip for him like he owns the air you breathe ── .✦

smut · dom!pedro· power dynamics · stripping (reader performs)·

You didn’t expect him to just… sit there.

But he does. Slouched in the chair, thick robe gaping open, white briefs doing nothing to hide how hard he is already. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move.

He just watches.

And that’s the worst part. Or the best.

Because his gaze is heavy. Dark. Hungry. And you feel it like heat on your skin — every time your hands glide over your own body, every time you drag that strap off your shoulder slower than necessary, every time you roll your hips just to see if he reacts.

He doesn’t.

But his cock twitches, and that’s all the confirmation you need.

“Take off the bra,” he finally rasps. “Nice and slow. Let me see what’s mine.”

You do.

And he groans.

“Fuck. Look at you.”

You reach for your panties next, but he stops you — voice firm, eyes sharp.

“No. Crawl here. I’ll do it.”

Your breath stutters. But you obey.

You drop to your knees and crawl to him, heat pulsing between your legs, every nerve in your body lit up with the way he looks at you like you’re dinner and he hasn’t eaten in days.

When you reach him, he cups your jaw.

“You know what gets me off?” he whispers. “Not the way you strip. Not the way you moan.”

You blink up at him, panting. “What, then?”

“The fact that you’d do anything I say,” he growls. “That you like being my good fucking girl.”

Then he rips your panties down and makes you ride him, slow and messy, robe pushed off his shoulders, his hands gripping your waist while he fills you to the hilt, whispering mine over and over into your mouth like a fucking prayer.

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

[excusemyobsessions]

This has been roaming in my head for way too long.

So we all know The LaDs men are hella big, right?

What if it cant fit in (some) reader/s mouth s they end up choking a bit or needing to only go through it halfway bcs their gag reflexes arent reflexing so now we feel bad 😔 💔

Well, my dearest, you got my mind racing with this one 🙈

Here are my thoughts about this:

(Explicit sexual content below)

Zayne

Zayne doesn't like you straining yourself. Yes, he's okay stretching out your sweet little hole but when you want to take him whole in your mouth, he's very careful.

He'll tuck your hair behind your ear, push it away from your pretty face.

And his hand is a heavy, guiding weight on the nape of your neck. When you start going too far and start choking around his length, he'll pull you back by the back of your neck.

"Honey, slow down. You're going to bruise your throat."

But you just want to make him feel good :(

"You already do. And your hands are enough," he assures you.

When you're being very very stubborn, he'll pull you off his cock and kiss the air out of your lungs.

"Slowly," he'll tell you, in a deep, firm voice.

Rafayel

Okay but hear me out.

Rafayel but in heat. Merman form. And he's got two. Yes, of course, two.

And obviously you want both in your mouth.

But they're big and they're two and you can barely fit one, of course your can't fit two.

So, you're so whiny because you want both in your mouth :(

And he's so beautiful, so flustered, ears bright red, breathing labored. He does these delicious hip rolls when you stroke him. Gorgeous tail hanging off the side of the bathtub.

"Please, princess, it's okay, don't pout like that."

"Please, just your hand is okay... please, baby..."

And of course you wrap your hands around both his cocks, and take turns sucking on both heads like a lollipop. Until he's moaning out your name, with his head thrown back, covering your hands and face with his cum.

Sylus

Sylus...

This man would train you to take him.

Very slow and patiently, full of sweet, loving praises.

"Shhh, kitten, it's okay. You're doing great."

He just loves you so much he'll indulge you anytime. Guide you through it.

"Hollow your cheeks a little."

"Hmmm... that's it, sweet thing, you're taking me so well."

If you have long hair, he'll wrap it around his hand, occasionally tug on it if you're being impatient. Short hair gets tugged on too.

And he'll click his tongue.

"Tsk tsk, kitten, you're going too fast."

He'll cup your cheeks with his long fingers.

"I want you to take it nice... and... slow..."

Xavier

A lover who chokes around his length would drive Xavier insane.

Oh, he's not gonna be gentle about it because he loves, loves seeing the tears cling to your lashes, your lips stretched out around his cock.

He loves seeing your efforts.

His hand is always on the top of your head, sometimes gripping your hair. And he holds you down on his cock every now and then. (With consent, of course. If you don't like that, he definitely won't.)

"That's it, princess. Look at how pretty you look, with your mouth around my cock."

He has to hold back so he won't thrust into your throat when you gag. He doesn't want to hurt you, of course. He wants you to feel good too.

He cums in your mouth and you struggle to swallow it all, just like you struggled with his length.

"You're so messy, my starlight. So pretty."

Caleb

Caleb wants your mouth around his cock so bad but he doesn't want you to hurt yourself :(

"Take it slow, pips, you don't have to take it whole."

He'll try so bad to keep his hips still for you.

And he's so full of praises. He pets your hair through it.

"You look so pretty."

"You're taking me so well."

"Your mouth feels so so good."

"I've thought about this before. Yeah, you, with my cock in your mouth. You look even prettier than I imagined."

He catches the tears that fall from your eyes. Thrusts into your mouth only when he's sure he won't hurt you. He's very eager to let you use him, let you suck on his cock like a popsicle but the way you want it.

You swallow him down once and he's done for, cumming down your throat while letting out the prettiest moans.

[jj-one]

i’m having thoughts that desperately need sharing

who in skz would most likely love an inexperienced partner because they would loveeee the idea of teaching them everything and guiding them through their first time?

i have had these thoughts for so long now and i need somebody to share my delulu with 😛

you’ve come to the right place bestie, let’s be delusional together 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ i feel like chan, minho, & seungmin would absolutely love the idea of having an inexperienced partner the most but i’m not opposed to the idea of all the members being into it. here’s my little list that i compiled hehe <3

chan:

he’s too fucking gentle with you at first, like he treats you as if you’re some delicate flower and is hesitant on corrupting your innocence— especially when it comes to fucking you bc he suffers from big dick syndrome and doesn’t wanna hurt you </3 but once he knows you wanna be taught, it’s game over. he’s the world’s biggest tease so ofc he loves pressing the head of his cock against your untouched folds, not entering, just showing you what’s coming. makes you say “please” until you’re crying. he gets off on having all the control, dragging you down his filthy little rabbit hole with soft praises and unbearable pressure. he wants to be the only one who’s touched you. every gasped whimper, every flutter of your pussy around him as he pushes in for the first time, he memorizes it all. his strokes are always agonizingly slow, deep, claiming, but the more you both get into it the more rough he’d get, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you like it’s nothing to him.

“you already came twice baby, i know you’ve got one more left in you.”

minho:

pretends that he doesn’t care (spoiler: he 100% does), he jerks off to the idea of being your first more than he’d admit. especially when you’re looking up at him with those big, doey eyes, lip trembling, legs spread but uncertain— he makes you say it, “i don’t know what i’m doing.” you’ve told him that you’ve never watched porn before and have rarely ever touched yourself, you were a novice, but that’s what he’s here for, to teach you the ropes ! he corrupts you deliberately, one filthy lesson at a time. first lesson? how to suck him off. second? riding until your thighs give out. third? letting him film you crying around his cock. he’s now become fully obsessed with stripping you of your purity, shaping you into the perfect little slut just for him. can’t help but smirk as you beg for more, knowing he’s the reason for turning you into this.

“look at you— used to be so innocent. now you’re drooling on my cock like it’s all you’ve ever known. and it is, isn’t it? ‘cause i made you this way.”

seungmin:

is completely deadpan. quiet, yet dangerous. he acts unimpressed until you’re crying from just taking his fingers. then he’s leans close, voice low, and says, “you really don’t know a thing, do you?” he thrives off being the one to show you. the only one. has you arching off the sheets just from his mouth with the most smug look on his face at how easily you come apart. he doesn’t just teach, he literally reprograms you. makes sure no one else will ever satisfy you again. just watches with dark eyes as you stammer through every new sensation, feeling so overwhelmed and desperate, too shy to even say his name without whimpering ;( makes you go crazy from the way he touches you slowly, taking his sweet sweet time with you like he’s got all day bc if he’s gonna ruin you, he’s gonna relish in it. calls it “training” when he makes you practice sucking him off until your throat burns, when he fingers you for hours just to watch your mind melt from how overstimulated you are. records you babbling nonsense while your legs shake as proof that you belong to him now; have you crying, clinging to him, begging to cum again.

“good girl. you’ll take whatever i give you, yeah? ‘cause i’m the only one who knows what you need.”

changbin:

he’s your coach, absolutely loves teaching !! makes it interactive. pushes two fingers into your sopping cunt and says, “now clench. hold it. yeah, like that.” he takes utmost pride in watching you learn, fucking you in different positions until you find the one that makes you scream. makes you cum over and over again just so you understand your body better. he’s so proud of the mess he makes out of you <3 talks you through it like he’s guiding a workout— except you’re trembling, soaked, tears streaming down your cheeks bc it’s soso much but he’s still not done. makes you mirror everything he does when he eats you out, wants to hear you use your big girl words and tell him what it feels like. spreads your thighs wider with every session, the pad of his thumb circling your clit nice n slow just to watch you squirm from the simplest touches. he gets off on your innocence, gets harder every time you ask, “is this okay..?” bc it means there’s still more to ruin. makes you sit in his lap and bounce until your legs give out from shaking and your voice breaks from how many times you’ve begged. he won’t stop until your body responds to only him, trained and wrecked to perfection, even when you’re dazed, drooling, and completely fucked out.

“told you i’d make a good girl outta you, we’re just getting started.”

hyunjin:

sensual, slow, & obsessed. he calls you “innocent” like it’s your name. thinks it’s the cutest shit ever how shy you get when he’s got your legs sprawled and whispers where everything is. fingers you while describing in grave detail how he’ll fuck you and makes you repeat it back to him. “say it, baby. tell me what i taught you.” he corrupts you with elegance, artful degradation, slow-melting kisses between instruction. every night becoming another slowburn chapter in your ruin. he memorizes every little reaction, every gasp, every twitch, every time your breath catches when his lips brush your ear. he keeps you perched prettily on his cock, producing slow, diluted strokes at first, watching your brows pinch and your thighs quiver, whispering all the dirty shit he wants to do to you in a reverent tone like he’s reading poetry. paints bruises down your throat like he’s leaving his signature. tells you what a masterpiece you’ve become under his hands. won’t let you cover your face when you start to cry, he wants to witness it all. wants to see beg with those soft, needy whines that he loves as he holds your hips still and fucks you through another orgasm, praising how well you’re taking it, how much you’ve changed, won’t stop ‘til you’re boneless and spent, tear-streaked and writhing in his arms.

“you used to blush when i kissed you, but now look at you, ruined and addicted. all mine.”

jisung:

he lives for the fact that he’s your first. the way your whole body shudders just from him breathing on your cunt. how every moan you let out sounds like pure heaven to him— raw, unsure, and desperate. he’s obsessed with how new you are to everything, fingers soaked from just teaching you how to grind properly. “good girl, just like that- fuck, you’re learning so fast.” he craves to taint your innocence than anything else, saying all types of nasty shit as he makes you beg to cum for the first time. he corrupts you sweetly, patiently; until you’re reduced to nothing but a cockdrunk and clingy mess. he likes it best when you’re shy about wanting more, when you squirm under his gaze and whisper that something feels weird, and he has to gently coax you through it, telling you it’s completely normal. lets you ride his cock for the first time with your hands on his chest, telling you exactly how to move. gets so hard watching you unravel from the smallest things, his thumb on your clit, a filthy word in your ear, the soft drag of his tongue over your nipples. adores how overwhelmed you get, how easy it is to ruin you with nothing but gentle pressure and a few well-placed moans. your innocence is like a drug to him, and he’ll spend all night undoing it, slowly and thoroughly, until the only thing left of you is the pretty little mess he’s created.

“you’ll never come this hard for anyone else, baby. they didn’t break you in— i did.”

felix:

surprisingly filthy. like he’s the sweetest, most wholesome boyfriend ever in public but when it’s just you two? yeah, that’s a whole different story. that first hit of dopamine fucks him up when he finally gets a taste of you, the way your body twitches from the first brush of his tongue, he already knows he’s gonna be addicted to your pussy. he worships every shaky moan, every uncertain grind of your hips, loving how easy it is to mold you. showers you with praises while he breaks you, tells you how perfect you look when you’re so lost in pleasure you’ve never felt before. treats your virginity like a gift, but one he fully intends to unwrap, piece by piece. kisses you slow and deep while his fingers slip lower and lower, letting you get used to every inch of him before he gives you more. he coos over every nervous whimper, smiles when you get too overwhelmed to form proper words bc it means he’s doing his job right. his cock swells in size the more you cling to him, eyes glossy, lips jutting out as you beg for something you don’t even have the words for. takes his time stretching you open, his husky, commanding baritones in your ear telling you how good you’re being, how proud he is that you’re letting him ruin you. and when you’re spread out beneath him, flushed and trembling, you’re so far gone that all your shyness sheds away.

“you’re so sensitive, angel. no one’s ever touched you here like this, huh?”

jeongin:

a total freak in denial. like he’s shy and gets all blushy when you call him your first, but the moment he realizes you’re letting him guide you? a switch flips in his horny brain. he’ll make you touch yourself in front of him first, watching you intently, fingers gripping the base of his thick cock as he corrects your movements with breathy commands. is all red-faced and whimpery when he finally fucks you, drunk off the way your pussy swallows him whole every time he thrusts in a little deeper. gets a little timid when he tries to talk you through it all, voice shaky but firm— tells you where to place your hands, how to tilt your hips, what to say when you want more. just can’t help but get so worked up by you, overwhelmed and messy, looking up at him like he’s the only one who’s ever made you feel this way. feels kinda bad for how much he loves it when you cry a little from how good it feels, when you babble that you don’t know what’s happening and he gets to say, “it’s okay, baby… i’ve got you. just let me teach you.” drinking in the scenery of you falling apart under him, frenzied and blissed out for the first time.

“no one else gets to have you like this, yeah? i’m the one who ruined you.”

[lexiputellas]

The Real Victory

You’re horny. Like, dangerously horny.

Alexia is on the pitch, locked into the Champions League match against Manchester City. She lost the last game, and you know how badly she wants this one. You should be focused too. Supportive. Cheering.

But you're six months pregnant and your entire body is buzzing.

And all you can think about is her.

Not the game. Not the score.

Just her

The way her thighs flex when she sprints, thick and powerful. The way her brow furrows when she’s concentrating, that sharp little frown. The way her hands settle on her hips when something doesn’t go her way, fuck.That posture alone sends a direct electric shock to your clit, like a livewire.

It’s unbearable.

You can’t hear the crowd. You barely notice the plays. It’s just her, her, her.

“Oh, that ref is shit. He should’ve called that a foul,” Alba mutters beside you, snapping you out of your haze.

“What?” you blink.

“The ref,” she says, nodding at the pitch.

“Oh. Right. Yeah,” you say, pretending to care. She’s already turned back to the game.

But you? You’re dying.

This feeling is consuming you, melting you from the inside out. You feel like you’re going to burst. Your hands are clenched in your lap, trying to behave, but your legs keep pressing together. You're sweating under your dress, soaked through your underwear, every shift in your seat making you want to whimper.

You can't take it anymore.

You grab your phone and open Alexia’s contact, fingers trembling as you type:

— if after 30 minutes of the game you don’t fuck me and give me at least 2 orgasms i will expose you to the internet. i’m not joking. i’m feral.

You hit send.

She won’t read it now, obviously. But when she gets back to the locker room, when she finally checks her phone, you want her to know what she did to you.

You type again:

— i’m a mess. i’m so wet it’s probably running through my dress and dripping onto the fucking seats. this is 100% your fault.

You stare at the screen, your heart pounding harder than the crowd’s chants.

Final whistle.

Barça wins.

The stadium erupts. People are screaming, waving flags. Fireworks. Hugs. Applause.

You don't care.

Finale. They’re going to the goddamn finale.

And all you want is her.

All you want is home

All you want is to be touched.

You turn to Alba. “Let’s go.”

She glances at you, a little surprised. “Already?”

“Help me up.”

She does, and you wobble a bit, pregnant belly leading the way. You make your way to the VIP lounge and ask for a bottle of water. Your heart is racing like you played 90 minutes.

“You having dinner with us?” you ask Alba casually, your brain screaming please say no please say no please say no—

“I don’t think so, actually. I promised Julia I’d have dinner with her tonight. Been a while.”

YES.

“Oh, okay,” you say, masking the desperate joy clawing at your throat. “I just thought—”

“I’m sorry!” she smiles. “We can have dinner later this week.”

You nod, but your mind is elsewhere. All you can think is: Where the fuck is Alexia?

Why is she not here yet? Is she still giving interviews? Talking to people? Laughing with teammates while you’re over here throbbing?

Then, finally, she walks through the doors.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Your entire body clenches. She looks so fucking good. Post-game glow, loose ponytail, jersey stuck to her skin, thighs still tense from running. She’s flushed. Confident. Unreal.

You bite your lip. Hard. Press your thighs together again.

You love her. You hate her. You want to murder her and climb her at the same time.

“Oi, bebé,” she murmurs, kissing your cheek, arms wrapping around you.

You give her a dry peck back, but your eyes are blazing. She hugs Alba next.

“Hey, you coming to dinner?”

“Oh, can’t. Was just waiting for you to show up. I’ve got plans.”

“Okay,” Alexia nods. Alba leaves.

“Dinner out or do you want to order in?” she asks, turning to you with that too-casual tone.

“Order,” you narrow your eyes. She was really about to take you to a restaurant like she didn’t just read those texts? Is she insane?

Then again, she is insane. She's mean. She's hot. She’s yours. So so yours.

“Okay, let’s go,” she says, grabbing your purse and holding out her hand.

You walk with her, past a few teammates. She says her goodbyes. Opens the car door for you. Puts her gear in the trunk. Starts the engine.

She’s humming along to the song on the radio. Calm. Collected.

You look at her. Really look.

What kind of monster leaves their pregnant, needy, drenched wife like this?

The way her fingers grip the wheel. The muscles in her forearms. The little furrow of concentration on her brow.

It’s criminal.

“What?” she says suddenly, catching your stare.

“You’re so mean,” you mutter, crossing your arms.

“What? How am I mean?”

“You read the messages. And you chose to ignore me. You ignored your pregnant, unholy, unsatisfied wife”

“I didn’t ignore you,” she smirks. “I just wanted to see when you’d break.”

“When I’d— WHAT KIND OF MONSTER SAYS THAT? I hate you!” you yell, dramatic and breathless.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes I do! I hate you so much!”

She looks at you sideways, eyes dark and smug, and then slowly lets one hand slide off the wheel, straight to your thigh.

You gasp.

Her fingers press into your skin, spreading a little warmth, a little promise.

“You don’t hate me,” she says, low and certain.

And god help you, she’s right.

Her hand stays there hot, firm, steady on your thigh. Not moving. Just existing. Like a warning. Like a fucking claim.

And you're trembling.

“You don't hate me,” she says again, softer this time, almost teasing, like she already knows you're seconds from falling apart. “You’re just mad I made you wait.”

You twist toward her in your seat, glaring. “I wasn’t mad. I was dying. There’s a difference. You left me like that for ninety minutes. In public.”

“In a stadium,” she corrects, her thumb now rubbing slow, maddening circles over your skin. “While my team fought for the Champions League.”

“I fought for my life. ”

She laughs, actually laughs, and you nearly claw at her. “You think this is funny?”

“I think it’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” you nearly shriek. “I threatened you. I explicitly said two orgasms and you acted like I said two cappuccinos,”

“I saw that,” she says, grinning wider. “And the one after. The part about your dress. And the seats.”

Your mouth goes dry.

“And?” you snap, voice shaky.

She hums, dragging the tip of her fingernail up and down your thigh now. You shiver. “And I guess we’ll see if you were exaggerating.”

“I wasn’t.”

“I hope not.”

You make a noise that’s somewhere between a groan and a growl. Your hands are fisted in your lap again, trying not to beg her in traffic.

The city blurs outside the window, but all you see is her profile, focused, gorgeous, unfazed. Your whole body is throbbing and she’s just…driving. Calmly. Like you’re not about to crawl into her lap.

You glance down at her hand on your leg. Her thumb is drifting closer to the inside of your thigh now. Dangerous territory. Too close. You spread your legs slightly without thinking.

She doesn’t say anything. Just flicks her eyes toward you with a slow smirk.

You clench your fists tighter.

“You’re a menace,” you mutter.

“You married me.”

“I was tricked.”

She chuckles again, completely in control, and your pulse is in your ears. She's wearing that smug, satisfied post-match look, jersey still sticking to her skin, and all you can think about is how much you need her on you, in you, now now now.

“Alexia,” you whisper, desperate.

She exhales through her nose, leans forward to turn down the music, then returns her hand to your thighs, this time higher, much higher.

“Shhh, bebé. Almost home.”

Your hips twitch toward her.

“No, not shhh. I’m going to die,” you say breathlessly. “You’re going to have to explain to the paramedics that you edged your pregnant wife into a cardiac event.”

She grins. “I’ll just say it was hormones.”

You whimper. Actually whimper.

“You’re evil.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she says, but her voice is lower now, quieter, slipping into that tone you know means trouble.

Then she turns onto your street.

Your breathing stutters.

You’re seconds away from sobbing, from tearing the fabric of your dress apart, from climbing her while the engine’s still on. She parks the car and the moment it clicks into place, you undo your seatbelt and twist to her.

She hasn’t even opened her door yet.

You lean toward her, breath warm, hands shaking.

“I swear to God,” you whisper, “if you make me wait one more second,”

But she’s already moving. Turning to you. Hand slipping behind your neck and pulling you in for a deep, hot kiss. It hits you like fireneedy, claiming, hungry. Her tongue sweeps over yours and her fingers dig into your skin and just like that, you’re gone.

Your moan gets swallowed in her mouth.

She reaches down, pulls the lever, and shoves the driver’s seat all the way back.

Your breath catches.

“Come here,” she says, low.

“What?”

“You heard me. Come here.”

You scramble over the center console, breathless, messy, belly in the way, everything awkward and unhinged. But she helps you, strong arms around you, guiding you to straddle her lap. Her hands slide under your thighs, lifting you so you’re not too heavy, easing you down until you're sitting right against her.

The moment you're seated, your soaked center pressed against the firm muscle of her thigh, your arms around her neck, she kisses you.

Hard.

Messy.

Open-mouthed and fucking relentless.

You moan into her, rocking instinctively, already rolling your hips against her. Her hands slip up under your dress, grabbing the back of your thighs, your ass, your hips, tugging you closer until you're gasping into her mouth.

“Ale, fuck, I’m gonna explode”

She pulls back just enough to look at you, lips wet, eyes glassy.

Her hand slides between your legs. Straight under your underwear.

And when she feels how wet you are?

Her jaw clenches.

“You’re soaked.”

“I told you,” you gasp.

“Sit up,” she orders, and you barely register what she’s doing before she slides her fingers inside: slow, deep, no warning.

Your whole body jerks.

“FUCK”

Her other hand grips your hip, grounding you, holding you in place.

“You gonna ride me like you threatened to?” she breathes into your neck. “Or do I have to make you beg for it?”

You’re already moving. Hips grinding down, your belly tight against her chest, your thighs trembling with the effort.

“God, yes, yes, please, Alexia”

“You’re so desperate,” she whispers. “So messy. You wanted to come in my car so bad? Do it.”

Her fingers are already soaked, dripping, knuckles buried in your cunt as you grind against her like you’ve forgotten how to breathe. She’s letting you do the work, just watching, controlling the rhythm with the slow flex of her hand.

“You’re so fucking perfect like this,” she mutters, voice low, forehead pressed to yours. “Dripping all over me. Can you feel how wet you are?“

Your jaw drops. You moan, raw, desperate and she doesn't give you space to recover.

Her fingers curl inside you, deep and mean, rubbing against that swollen, electric spot that sends sparks flying up your spine. Her palm drags hard over your clit. Again and again and again.

You fall apart.

Your back arches, your belly tight and shaking, and then your cunt clenches down so hard on her fingers it hurts. You don’t just moan, you wail, the sound tearing from your throat like a sob. Your head tips back, body locking, thighs trembling uncontrollably.

She’s right there, whispering filth into your skin.

“That's it. Give it to me, bebé. Let me feel it. Let me feel all of it.”

You try to breathe, but your lungs won’t work. Your whole body is twitching, seized by the orgasm, soaking her wrist, her palm, the fucking seat. You’re gushing, crying, shaking in her lap like your body’s been possessed.

She holds you there through it gripping your ass with one hand, still inside you with the other, riding it out until you're limp and clinging to her.

When you finally collapse forward, she’s panting against your ear, voice rough with praise.

“Good girl,” she whispers. “You came so hard for me. Fuck.”

Your whole body buzzes. You’re not sure if you’re still crying or just breathless, but her jersey is wet with sweat, and your thighs are shaking.

“That’s one,” she says, slowly pulling her fingers out, wet, slick, obscene. She lifts them to her mouth and licks them clean while you just stare, wrecked and speechless.

Then, with a grin that’s all teeth:

“You still owe me another.”

“And I haven’t even ripped your fucking dress yet.”

[springismss]

ᱬ⛧ jealousy, jealousy ~ k. bakugou

sum: just some jealous! bakugou thoughts

pairing: katsuki bakugou x girlfriend! reader

content: 18+ - mdni. jealousy p in v, language, dirty talk, possessive talk, implied/suggested multiple rounds, marking, cream pie, brief cum plugging, reader gets called princess/baby/good girl, general NSFW content.

a/n: a rework of a request from my wattpad days, and another instalment in the jealousy, jealousy series! this time featuring our favourite explosive boy. as always likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated!

word count: 1.2k

links: jealousy, jealousy masterlist | bnha/mha masterlist | masterlist

jealous! bakugou who will be more than happy to show when he's in a jealous mood. who'll not back down without a fight where you're concerned.

jealous! bakugou who'll not hesitate to send explosions towards the poor soul who's entered your personal space. who lets out a growl as he stomps towards where you're standing.

jealous! bakugou who wraps a hand on your hip and pulls you to him, not too hard to hurt you, just enough to make sure the other extra gets their hands off you as soon as possible.

jealous! bakugou who'll grip a hold of the poor soul's collar, pulling them close, close enough for them to flinch when he yells at them. "oi extra. what the fuck do you think you're doing?", "care to tell me why you're touching my girlfriend?" and "she's my girl, got that?".

jealous! bakugou who once the person he's grabbed a hold of agrees, lets go of them as he feels you tugging on his arm. who huffs out before grabbing your hand and stomping off with you in tow.

jealous! bakugou who'll slam doors once he reaches his room, to let your roommates know he's pissed off. who knows that they'll keep clear if they value not only their lives but their hearing as well.

jealous! bakugou who picks you up and throws you onto his bed, chuckling deeply when you gasp in surprise. who'll slowly crawl over you until he has you caged between his arms and body. "people think they can touch what's mine" and "they're fucking wrong, you're mine".

jealous! bakugou who loves to place rough kisses on your neck, biting and sucking to make sure he marks you for everyone to see. who'll always favour leaving a huge love bite with smaller ones dotted around it. "looks like i'll have to remind those fuckers and you, my peach, who you belong to".

jealous! bakugou who mutters to himself while he does this. who likes to press his body into yours, groaning at the way you push back into him. who loves the way you grind yourself against him.

jealous! bakugou who likes to get your clothes off you as soon as he possibly can. who practically rips the fabric of your underwear and bra off your body, chucking them in the room, not giving a fuck where they land.

jealous! bakugou who likes to trail his fingers over your skin, making sure to tease your nipples with ghost-like touches. who smirks at the way you gasp and arch your back to try and get him to touch you more.

jealous! bakugou who'll move his mouth to your chest, taking each of your nipples into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the bud. who likes to bite down on them as you squirm below him, tugging them slightly as you hiss.

jealous! bakugou who'll move his hand down your body, stopping at your cunt as he gives it a slap. who'll move his fingers along your slit before pressing them knuckles deep into your waiting cunt. who loves how wet you already are, slick helping his fingers scissor you open.

jealous! bakugou who'll kneel up when he gets bored after a few moments, bringing his fingers up to his mouth to clean your juices off them. who chuckles when he sees you trying to hide your face behind your hands. "how cute, peach, but i need to see your eye roll back when i stretch you wide".

jealous! bakugou who grabs hold of your legs and presses them against your chest with a smirk. who doesn't give you a chance to prepare when he lines the tip of his cock against your wet cunt and thrusts himself in fully in one go.

jealous! bakugou who loves how your walls spasm around him, and the look of pure bewilderment on your face. who doesn't give you a moment to breathe before he's pistoning his hips into you, driving his cock further into you.

jealous! bakugou who gets more harsh with his thrusts when you whimper out. "need to remind you who this pretty pussy belongs to", "damn extras thinking they can touch you", "need to mark you in a way only i can".

jealous! bakugou who only gets spurred on more by your moans and whimpers. who'll groan when he feels your fingernails drag down the smooth skin of his back, red marks sure to appear. "kats, h-ah, please, so deep". "be a good girl and take everything i've got to give your pussy".

jealous! bakugou who'll pull out and run the tip of his wet cock against your cunt, tapping it against your clit as you writhe beneath him. who'll chuckle deeply before thrusting back into you. "you like that princess? fuck, your pussy feels so good squeezing my cock like that".

jealous! bakugou who'll use every single surface imaginable to his advantage when fucking you. who'll bend you in ways you don't even remember being able to get into in the first place. "such a good little princess, taking all of me".

jealous! bakugou who'll bite your neck as he spills his cum deep within you. who'll mark you in any way he possibly can so you don't ever forget who you belong to, that he's the one who stole your heart. who'll press his hips close to you as you let a broken cry of his name pass your lips.

jealous! bakugou who'll pull out of your puffy pussy slowly just to see ropes of his seed still attached to his cock, who loves to watch how they break the further he pulls out. who watches how this cum slowly seems out of you, pussy clenching to try and keep it in.

jealous! bakugou who'll take a moment to gather up his cum on his fingers before slipping them inside, pluggin you for a moment as he feels the way your walls still pulsate around him. "such a greedy little cunt".

jealous! bakugou who'll pull you into his arms as he lies down with you. who pulls you closer to him as he absentmindedly draws patterns on your torso.

jealous! bakugou who's actually fearful! bakugou. who's scared to admit he's worried you'll up and leave him one day. who'll spend most of his time alone, thinking the worst of any situation.

fearful! bakugou who watches how you interact with people, how you smile and laugh with them so easily, yet it took you a while to warm up to him. who knows, deep down, you wouldn't leave him, but he's his own worst enemy at the best of times.

fearful! bakugou who spends time watching you as you lie on his bed, chatting away about your day. who sees the way you look at him with a sincere smile as you turn and cup his cheek. "it'll always be you, kats".

fearful! bakugou who finds himself softening up to your touches as you make sure to make him feel more secure in himself. who'll close his eyes as you reassure him you love him for who he is, mean looks and all.

jealous! bakugou who when it comes down to it, wants to show the world you belong to him with his marks. it's the only way he can until you're both a bit older and comfortable with your lives together in a few years at least.

© springismss 2025 - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

[owe-143]

From my grave I arise with a humble request hajshsjs

Plz this movie got me so hyperfixated, I haven't felt this in like soooo long and reading ur works after watching is just hehehe yes I love it

Anyways! What if like saja boys with like reader who has a pet like a cat/dog/bird and like how wud they interact with them hehehe

Have a nice day!!! Thank you for feeding the us 🫶🫶🫶

~Pets and Saja!!

A/N: Ty for requesting pookie!! I LOVEE FEEDING YALLL. and this is such a cute request hehe. You have a nice day/night too

Warnings: swearing, honestly a silly ahh fic

Fluff☁⭐

Saja Boys (separate) x reader

Jinu!

-LOVES YOUR PET SMMM

-considering that he has his own lil buddies i feel like he'd totally be cool with yours

-ESPECIALLY IF YOU GOT A CAT. HE'S A CAT DAD GUYS

-he'll take care of your pet as if it's his own

-talks to the animal like constantly

Abs!

-DID NOT like your pet at first

-''Who this animal think they is stealing my pookie?'' ahh

-But quickly warmed up to it becuz its just that cute like hellooo

-If you have a dog, he will be so obsessed with it to the point of stealing the cutie

-laughs his ahh off when the animal does dumb shi

Romance!

-Hates your pet lowkey💔😭

-He tolerates it anyway because he loves you

-flips em off (to which you beat the shit outta him because wtf)

-if you have a bird, he'll mock the damn thing

-eventually warms up to your pet but in secret. never in front of you

Mystery

-Is a little confused on why you have a pet in the first place when you have him (LMAOOO)

-YOU JUST KNOW HE BE BARKING BACK AT THE DOG. NEVER LETTING YALL FORGET THAT SCENE

-overall likes the silly pet

-will teach it tricks or skills

-prefers cats. He will stare at it for hours on end without saying a word like it's the most interesting thing on earth

Baby

-need to get this out. if you have a damn parrot. DON'T LEAVE IT WITH HIM. THAT THING WILL BE SWEARING LIKE CRAZY😭

-loves your pets really. has no reason to beef with them. they cute. he cute-mutual understanding

-Always ready to entertain/play with them

-doesn't know when to leave em alone tho💔

-expecting you to baby him like how you baby that pet

[rawme-price]

ghost and artist!reader who asks to paint his portrait.

he agrees, and this is already a major show of trust. showing his face to you for hours on end, where you can see his every flaw and oddity. its torture, sitting there and just thinking about what you see. but he doesnt want to break up the session, knows he wont come back if he does.

when simon actually sees the painting? hes...unsure what to think. its him, undeniably him. his short blonde curls, his crooked nose from being broken, his myriad of scars. you painted each one, meticulous. but...it doesnt feel bad, seeing his face how you see it. the scars are there, you dont try to disguise them, but you dont make them look gruesome or 'cool' either. they are simply another part of him, painted with the same care as his freckles and soft lashes.

he tears up a bit, seeing himself not as a monster or a victim, but just the man you love. each brushtroke reverent and true. ur in the middle of telling him how you plan to get it framed but wont display it without his permission, when he asks "can i kiss you?"

ofc you comply, pressing into him soft and warm. theres no rush when you lead him to bed, you take your time tracing the planes of his face with ur thumb the same way ur brush had not long ago. when u sink down onto simon, he whines, eyes closing tight and whispering so small you barely hear it "thank you...thank you. i love you."

[rainrot4me]

Creepypasta Men Twitter Links - Part 2

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── .✦ dividers by me. links belong to their respective twitter users. please notify if any links mess up or become deleted!

๑ jeff the killer

Jeff knew he was right to kidnap you, you were just too pretty to not take home. It’s been a week now, do you think anyone’s still looking for you? Do you even care?

Jeff loves when you try and run. When you think you even have a chance of getting away from him. He might let you get a few feet away, but he’ll he dragging you back onto his cock with a laugh before you can get your hopes too high.

Jeff isn’t a graceful man. The most gentle he can get is when he’s fingering you open for his cock, holding you down and prepping you just how you like it.

Jeff loves when you get all nasty and depraved. You’re so desperate to cum you’ll do whatever he says whenever he wants it. He always makes sure to reward you for being so filthy.

Jeff gets so hard when you let him go as fast as he wants. You don’t try and stop him, just lay there and take it like he knows you can. You’re nothing but a fleshlight to him anyway.

The people in the room next to you could probably hear every knock of this headboard against the wall. But Jeff didn’t care. If he was going to have to spend his night in a filthy, two-star motel, then he was going to find something to make it enjoyable.

๑ ticci toby

What was Toby supposed to when you kept grinding back on him in your sleep? He couldn’t just ignore it, not when your panties are already soaked and leaving wet-spots on his boxers. Was it cause you were dreaming about him?

Toby only wore a condom because you were nervous about getting pregnant. But proxies can’t reproduce, no matter how many times they cum deep in your cunt. Looks like you finally figured that out…

Toby can’t believe he’s never done this before. How has he never fucked you when it feels this good? When you grip him so tight. He doesn’t think you’ll be able to stay just friends after this, not now that he knows how wet you get when he touches you.

Toby knew you climbed onto his lap because you wanted his cock, but he was going to make you work for it first. If you could come on his fingers, then he might just give you what you want. If he’s still up for it.

Toby who doesn’t know how to touch you yet. Doesn’t know where’s he’s supposed to put his hands or how he’s supposed to hold you. But what he does know, is that moving his hips like this makes you get really tight on his cock.

Toby knew this was bad. But when the proxies accidentally gave you too many sleeping pills, he was put in charge while the others went to find something to reverse the effects. He’d be quick, he promises. You’ll never even know he used you like this.

๑ eyeless jack

Jack always enjoys making you watch yourself cum in the mirror. Forcing you to look at every expression, every noise, every lewd thought that comes out of you. Be careful not to look away, he likes to stop and make you beg him to start going again.

Jack knows exactly how to angle his hips so he hits every sensitive spot inside you. You’re falling apart on his cock, barely making a sound from how choked out you are, body completely at his mercy.

Jack knows his way around your body. Every inch, every curve, every spot that makes you cum so hard you’re drooling. He always loves what pressing right there does to you.

Jack knows you can’t fit him inside yet. That’s alright, he’ll make sure you both still feel good.

Jack won’t always admit to his oral fixation, but when you’re dropping to your knees and begging to suck his cock, he can’t help the growl that tears from his throat. Just how much spit can you get all over yourself, huh?

Well good morning to you, too. Jack can barely get his hollow eyes open before he’s looking down and seeing your panties hooked around your ankles. At least let him wake up first so he can really show you how good he can make you feel…

๑ masky (tim wright)

It took forever for you to stop crying every time Masky broke into your home and dragged you out of bed. But when you finally stop begging him to stop and start begging him to go faster, he can’t help but reward you for being so good.

Masky hates when your stupid panties get in the way. But he doesn’t have the patience to take them off, so it’s not his fault if he ruins them.

Masky and you were supposed to take a quiet little getaway trip to his cabin near the lake. So when you stroll out from the bathroom in a tiny little lingerie set, he can’t be held responsible for just how loud he makes you. There’s no one around to hear you cry anyway.

Masky said he was sorry. He didn’t mean to make you upset. There had to be a way to make it up to you, he’d do anything. Anything.

Masky can’t help himself. Not when you’re laying on the motel bed across from him and arching so sinfully in your sleep. You keep shifting your hips, spreading your legs like you know what you’re doing to him. He’ll be gentle, but he just can’t resist it anymore.

Masky is starting to second guess taking that viagra. He didn’t know it would affect you so bad, he can hardly keep up when you’re riding his cock so fast it’s practically going numb. At this rate, he’ll cum before you do.

๑ hoodie (brian thomas)

Hoodie loves it when you can’t stop. As soon as he quits thrusting, your hips are moving to make up for the lack of stimulation. He could almost laugh, he’s got you so cock-whipped you don’t even realize it, or maybe you just don’t care anymore.

Hoodie always wonders when the two of you leave his bedroom why you get so many stares. You’re not being that loud, right? It doesn’t matter to him when you feel this good anyway. You can be as loud as you want when you cum on his cock.

Maybe this will teach you to talk back to him. Hoodie only wants what’s best for you, but if that means being bent over his lap and getting spanked so hard you’re crying, then that’s just what he’ll have to do.

Hoodie never would have thought being gone for so long would’ve made you so eager. It was only a couple of days, but apparently that was enough for you to push him into the coach and have your way with him. Maybe he should go on missions more often…

Hoodie can’t hide the boner in his jeans any longer. If you’re going to walk around town in those nasty little shorts, then he can’t be held responsible for what he does when he drags you back to the truck.

Hoodie knows he can have you any time he wants. He’s earned that right. It doesn’t matter how busy you are, if he decides he wants your cunt, then that’s what he’ll get.

๑ ben drowned

Ben can’t get enough of your new shorts. What is he supposed to do when you parade around in them, leaving absolutely nothing to his imagination. It was only a matter of time before he ripped them off of you anyway.

Ben has worked so hard lately. You think he deserves a little reward for being so good.

You bought this new vibrator for you and Ben to try. But when he takes a hold of the toy, and it starts vibrating at a pace faster than any of its normal settings, you just know he has something to do with it.

Ben always promises he’ll watch a movie together without having sex. But it’s always your hands that start to rub his leg first. The two of you never make it halfway in before you’re completely lost in each other.

Ben can’t believe you’re still cumming. What is this? Round 4? 5? It’s all good with him, he won’t stop until you’re sobbing and he’s shooting blanks. But until then…

Ben is too lazy to put it all the way in. You’ll be fine if he just fucks your thighs, right?

๑ back to my masterlists

── .✦ rainrot4me2025, all rights reserved. ꩜ .ᐟ

[dailyreverie]

Washed away

A/N: You know that moment when you realize "being in the shower with Bucky would solve all my problems"? Yeah... that's what prompted this. I think I've had this idea in my head for around a year and then like two days ago my brain literally started writing it all and I finally got around to it. This was proofread by my dog, if there are any mistakes... ignore them I guess. Enjoy xx

Pairing: Tunderbolts Bucky Barnes x Thunderbolts f!reader

Word count: 2.7k

CW: MNI / 18+ Mentions of canon-related danger and being close to death (no one dies), and angsty feelings over that, anxious Bucky, mentions of blood and injuries, established situationship (i guess?), nudity, unprotected shower sex, oral (f receiving), p in v, reader and Bucky comforting each other, aftercare, Bucky being the sweetest.

Also available to read on AO3

The whole team had looked at you with worry, but you didn’t look back at them. You entered to your assigned room, rushing to the bathroom before anyone could see you breaking, or see how scared you still were. You heard Bucky far away, asking if you were okay from the entrance of your room. “Yes, I am,” was all you replied, and shut the door of the bathroom behind you.

You welcomed the warm water when it hit against your skin, soothing your tense muscles as it traveled down your body. The mission had been rough, intense; you couldn’t remember one that had ended with your body screaming at you to stop as this one had. But being ambushed does that, you suppose, it pushes you over the limit. And maybe a cramped motel shower was not the best place to wind down and recover, but it was what you had for now, and at least you had warm water.

Bucky and you had taken most of the attack, being caught in the middle and covering each other’s backs. He was as battered as you were; super serum healing and all, you could see his hurt in the way he held himself after, in how his hand held onto his ribs and the bright red wound on his forearm. But, yet again, he had the serum running through his veins to help him recover faster. He wouldn’t mind if you took the shower first.

The water turned brown under your feet as you scrubbed your aching body, feeling some relief as your fingers massaged the sore spots until there was no more grime on your skin, standing under the warm water and finally, taking a deep breath, begging your body to calm down the shakiness it still carried. You were alive, you had made it out, and Bucky had too, even when it started to seem that you wouldn’t. 

You had been so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear Bucky knocking - twice, he had done it, and not once had you replied. You only heard him as the door creaked open. “You all right?” He asked, his voice careful and quiet.

“I’m fine,” Your voice almost said otherwise, as it cracked against the words. “I’ll be out in a minute.” You had been in the shower for a while, you realized. And he deserved hot water too. You wondered, then, if anyone had seen him walk inside after you, if anyone else knew you were sharing a room, or if you even cared if they found out.

John would be an ass about it, and Yelena would tease you endlessly. Still, you didn’t care, not right now.

Bucky’s tall frame still lingered on the other side of the shower screen, his silhouette fidgety, moving inside the small bathroom. You didn’t mind, as long as you could stay in the warm water, he could do whatever he needed out there.

And you didn’t mind, either, when the door slid open to reveal him standing there. His shirt had already been discarded, as well as his shoes, letting you look at him properly, at his already-healing bruises and hits, painting his middle and his arms with dried blood and swollen scars.

His skin was ashen as he looked at your beaten body, his features remained neutral as you met his eyes again. He was still shaken, too, but not for himself, you realized, when a sharp breath came out of his nose and his eyes softened for barely a second. Bucky stared at you with something more than just lust, with something that looked like worry behind his eyes as if he wanted to see, with his own eyes, that you were as fine as you claimed to be; as if he couldn’t wait until you got out of the shower to confirm; as if he were still scared too, still on edge after the mission.

His body being so close to yours wasn’t new, but the way he was looking at you was. Bucky’s eyes roamed across your body and parked on your ribcage, where a set of fresh bruises coloured your skin purple and red. His eyes were not intrusive, they never were. You stood under the stream of water, letting it crash against your elbows and chest while keeping your eyes clear so you could see him.

“Buck,” You whispered his name, just realizing then how quickly you could’ve lost each other back then.

There were no labels to what you two were, it had started way too casually, when the tension of training under each other had finally snapped. You wished it was just that, tension, but with every encounter, with every moment his body had found yours for the past few months, it was clear to you there was so much more. But you knew Bucky wasn’t ready - or you assumed so, at least - so you would remain like that. Casual encounters on lonely nights, shared rooms during missions, hidden kisses before heading into danger, and before saying goodnight, too. But no formalities, no labels, just sex - just closeness.

Which is why the look in his eyes sent your heart into a frantic beating, the longing in them that wanted to make sure you were okay, almost making your head spin.

Without a word, he removed the rest of his clothes and stepped into the shower. Soft fingertips made their way to the bruises on your body, caressing them softly as if that would make them go away. “Does it hurt?” his gravely voice asked, his eyes not leaving that spot.

You shook your head with a soft “no”, which seemed to be enough for him. Bucky closed the distance, standing impossibly closer to you, and hovered his lips against yours. He did it slowly, at first, his mouth slightly open and chest heaving, almost waiting for any confirmation, until he couldn’t hold himself any longer. Bucky’s lips crashed against yours hungry, impatiently, ravenous for your taste and the feeling of your skin against his. There, you were there with him. His hands remained soft, thumbs holding your sides as if you would slip away with the soap if he let you go.

“Never do that again,” He said against your skin, with feather-like kisses against every scar, every scrape, and every bruise, old and new.

“Don’t do what?” Your fingers pushed his hair back, as the water had pushed it over his face, and you rested your hands behind his neck. Bucky’s half smile was barely visible when he turned to kiss your palm, in his lifted eyebrow a knowing look that said you know what you did. “Oh… you mean saving your life?”

“I mean, putting yourself in front of danger,”

“Bucky, I swear I’m alright-”

“You got hurt.” He cut you off, giving you a long kiss afterwards. “You got hurt because of me.” His voice shook as his eyes went back to the bruises on your skin, the ones he felt so guilty for, even though he had nothing to do with them. You froze under his stare, his eyes pining you to the cold tiles behind you, not knowing how to calm his anxious mind down.

“Bucky,” You whispered his name again, hoping that would make him look up at you. And he did, for a brief second, looking up at you from under his eyelashes, before he dived to your neck and kissed you there.

His kisses were soft as they traveled from your neck, to your collarbone, to your breasts, taking one of your nipples in his lips and sucking on it lightly. You couldn’t help but arch towards him with a gasp of pleasure, letting him kiss the places that needed to be healed, the softness of his touch a contrast against the aching spots. He needed to feel you, to taste you, to make sure his mind was not playing any games with him and that you had made it out with him.

Bucky kept going down, down, down… kissing every inch he could until he reached your hips. He trailed kisses down your belly as he placed your leg on his shoulder, his kisses mixing with the warm water and heating you more than it. His eyes never left yours as his mouth found your center, tasting you and sending waves of growing pleasure all over your body with his expert tongue. You held onto his hair as you rode against his mouth, soft moans escaping your lips and his name like a prayer on your lips.

“Come on,” Bucky murmured against your clit. “I want to taste you.” He never stopped. Not for a second. Stars blurred your vision when a metal finger pushed inside you and curled against the spot he expertly found every time. 

“Bucky,” You moaned, your head thrown back as a whimper left the back of your throat.  

Another finger went inside you, his own moans from your arousal against his lips making your legs shake. It was enough to bring you over the edge, his mouth and fingers guiding you through it.

You only knew Bucky stood up when his lips found yours again, whimpers still leaving your lips as his tongue tangled with yours. Bucky still held onto your lifted leg as he pushed you further back to the tiles, his metal hand grasping your waist softly as he looked into your eyes. The water splashed against his broad back as it towered over you.

Never, in the months in which you had become closer in whatever agreement you both had, had you ever looked at each other like that, with such a softness that made your knees weak in a completely different way in which his mouth had just done.

He wrapped your leg around his waist, grinding his hips against yours and letting you feel how hard he was. You both moaned at the touch, your hands flying to his shoulders to keep you on your feet. Your eyes never left each other, letting the fear of almost losing this, almost losing him, sink in and wash away at the same time. 

Bucky smirked at the feeling of your hand traveling down his chest and the hard lines of his body until it reached in between the two of you, aligning him to your entrance as you stroked him, his groan a delicious sound against your lips.

You sank onto him at the same time he thrusted into you, the sound of your combined pleasure echoing in the shower. His metal fingers held your waist in place carefully as he pushed against you; his touch, usually hard and hungry, was softer than ever, as if not wanting to give your skin any more bruises to deal with.

“I got you,” Bucky said against your jaw, his breathing getting more laboured. “I got you, and I’m never gonna let you go.” He found your lips as he said that, at the same time his fingers found your clit and began rubbing it. He claimed the little whimpers of pleasure you were letting out, almost bouncing on him as his hips began moving faster. “I got you, you hear that?”

You knew where his words were coming from, the need to make himself sure that he had you as much as you had him. As much as you could hear him, you couldn’t remember your own name, as it was only his that clouded your every thought, let alone any other words. “Yes, Buck,” You finally replied to his pleading. “I’m yours.”

“Fuck, say that again, doll,” His breath sent goosebumps around your neck before he kissed the skin softly. 

“I’m yours,” His head was buried in your neck when you spoke it into the foggy bathroom, the warmth of the pooling pleasure and from his body pressed against yours almost too much for you to be able to form coherent words.

Bucky let out a noise, something between a fuck and a grunt. His thrust became sloppy, but he never once stopped rubbing your swollen clit. You whimpered his name, meeting him halfway as you chased both of your climaxes.

“Cum, baby. Cum with me.” He grunted, his lips crashing on you again. “Wanna feel you all over me.”

When he lifted your leg higher over his waist, reaching a spot further inside, you were sure you were going to die in his arms. You didn’t know what you were saying, what noises were coming out of your mouth, you only knew you were urging him to never stop, a new kind of death clouding your sight as you finally let it explode.

He reached it as soon as you did, sounds of pleasure mixing and reverberating in the cramped bathroom. His body all but melted under your fingertips, still clinging to each other as you came back from whatever paradise Bucky had just made you see. Because he always did, always made sure you felt like you never had before.

“You are always so good, always take me so good.” He kissed your shoulder, then your neck, and your jaw, before looking for your eyes and staying there for a few seconds, looking at each other and taking you both in “You good?” He confirmed, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

Your head was still spinning, but your smile and nod were enough for him to smile back with a soft laugh, and kiss your lips with so much love. Because that’s what it was, love, even if neither of you were brave enough to risk it all to admit it.

He let you go then, only to grab the cheap-smelling soap and rub it all over your body, even if you were already clean. Even with the lukewarm water, you stood there and let yourself be washed up again. It was your turn after, you took the soap from his hands and rubbed it all over his body, focusing on the swollen places, on the ones that were still burning red. You kissed every spot you could reach: the bruises on his back, the cuts on his arms, the soft skin in between shoulder and metal. All yours to have and to hold, to kiss and mend.

Bucky was quick to wrap you in a towel once he turned off the water, his hands moving up and down your arms to dry you off and to keep you warm. Ever so gently, he rubbed lotion on your ribs and back with a soft massage. You leaned against his touch, your back to his chest as his hands moved up and down your body. 

He guided you to the bedroom, found the softest Henley for you to wear, and made you sit on the bed, putting every pillow and cushion against the headboard so you could be comfortable. You didn’t need all that, since the moment he sat next to you, you collapsed into his shoulder. 

Bucky held you there, with an arm around your waist to keep you close. “I’m glad you are okay,” He whispered against your neck, placing a kiss there.

Your hand reached back to his jaw, holding him close to you. When you looked back at him, you saw that same look in his eyes from before, the one that caught you by surprise in the shower, for there were words that had never been said between you, words that you could see in his eyes as clearly as the blue in them. 

“I’m alright, I promise.” You reassured him, since a speck of worry kept looming over his face as he looked you up and down again.

“I just- I don´t like seeing you hurt.”

“Well then, you better be more careful on the next mission.” You smiled at him, sleepily now, but hoping he could see in your gaze what you found in his. “Because I don’t like seeing you hurt, either.”

His jaw clenched, but he smiled nonetheless when your eyes found each other. He knew better than to get into the I-care-about-you-more argument, he had learned the hard way. So he simply did what he was best at: Bucky pulled you into his arms and tucked you both into the covers, holding you close to his chest, as it was the place he knew he could keep you safe. 

🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it.

[happyk44]

[Text ID: 1. Most of us think about love as something that happens to us. We fall. We get crushed.

But what I like about this study is how it assumes that [highlight] love is an action. [end highlight]

2. love really just is *sharing blankets* *driving together in silence* *this song made me think of you* *I made them for you* *having the most fun just talking* *cold hands warm hearts* *I got home safe* *you said you needed one so I found one for you*

3. I like to cook; I like to sew. They’re peaceful things, and they’re an expression of caring.

4. He loves history. He wanted to write a biography of John Quincy Adams. I, shamefully, knew almost nothing about John Quincy Adams, so I went online and bought every biography of him I could find. One day, he called me, claiming that we wouldn’t work out long term. He said he loved me but that we had different interests. [highlight] “What does love mean to you?” [end highlight] I said. “That’s an impossible question,” he replied. I, however, find love to be quite simple. Love is the stack of biographies on my nightstand with a bookmark near the end.

5. My dad was eating pistachios so I reached my hand out and he just started peeling them and giving them to me. Then suddenly went “I really hope you find someone who loves you a lot” and I went “enough to peel my pistachios for me?” And he laughed and said “yeah exactly” before carrying on giving me more

6. you save me half a bag of skins, the hard parts, my fav, dusted orange with hot

7. you make us tacos with shells I like and you don’t

8. No, baby, that was great, just let me hold you know. Let me run out, it’ll just take a second. I’ll be back before you know it, and then you won’t have to wait until morning. Sure, I’ll look at it right now. It’s no trouble. Sure, I can wait. Just let me know when you’re ready, we can go. Sure, I’ll come over and bring my tools. I don’t mind. Sure, I have time [highlight] I always have time for you. Sure, whatever you need. [end highlight] Whatever you need.

9. I hear my voice repeating what I used to say to my husband: Love is action, I used to say to him

/end ID]

love as action

mandy len catron / @sweetnd / joan didion / julia nicole camp / @honey-fire / danez smith / s. bear bergman / marie howe

[your-bait-and-swich]

Random Date Everything characters NSFW headcanons

Characters featured: Hector, Parker, Lux, Dunk

Ageless/minors DNI

Hector

His favorite part of sex is not actually the sex itself it's the foreplay before anything.

He loves to tease your body by gently moving his hands around your body, and soft kissing anywhere he can like it's some sort of worship. He tries his best to make you squirm and relishes it

This might be a surprise, but most times he doesn't like being a bottom yet he doesn't like to be a dominant top either. He's definitely a soft top wanting you taking the lead, and tell him how to please you

That's not to say that he minds being a bottom but he prefers to help you

Definitely not avoid to be kinky specially if his God wants it. He loves doing anything and everything he can to please you

Except for pain and degrading. He would never even let himself insult you let alone hurt you. the most he'll do is biting and very light choking. Phantom choking basically.

He's actually very silent during sex, and masturbating. The vents aren't really that private you know

Most you'll hear in sex is small panting, and whines but he'll give you more noise if you request

Probably goes without saying, but he loves when you're somewhat demanding. Don't be too cruel about it, but he does love someone that knows what they want

He also wants to know he's doing well. Please praise him for anything he does right for communication sake, and his praise kink

He love's adding temperature play anyway he can to your love making

If you were cold/hot he would make purposeful effort to make his body the opposite so when he touches you, you would feel all the more

Subtly raise the heat slowly forcing you to strip more and more

Occasionally when you're in the middle of sex he'll use the grate on his outfit to blow one thing of cold air to shock you

Aftercare is a must every time. He does not let himself rest until you are clean and taking care of

Lux

(Not sure where to put this but I did give them a dick despite them not having a confirmed sex I think so keep that in mind I guess. I'll keep from doing this in the future tho)

I hate them *proceeds to make these anyway*

When they said you guys only have sex when they wants to upload something on Fans Only they means it. It's hard to convince them when they're not in the mood especially so when they're in the middle of a stream

But if you convince them mostly by sucking up to then they'll end a stream like "I guess that's it for today's stream luxxies! Make sure to check Fans Only soon byeee!~"

Recordings, live and photos are a given.

And if you're lucky enough even outside of Fans Only "Don't count on it"

They're most definitely a grower. A absurdly nice grower bigger than you'd expect. Along with that they're very smooth not having any body hair.

They moans like a pornstar. It's unclear if it's for the recording or they're just like that

Very into exhibition. They don't mind anyone watching honestly they're into it frankly. If they're in the mood it's happening no matter what

Also slightly masochist very into hair pulling and one or two nice slap on the ass

Obviously mostly a bottom, but if they feeling particularly devilish they'll top

When they top they do it to prove a point/a punishment

Favorite "punishment" is you choking on their dick for sure

They love too cum on your face then lay their dick on your tongue. It just makes you so pretty for their Fans Only

They'll say stuff like "good girl/boy/slut" in a condescending way to you after taking these punishments

You will at least have to have a threesome once with some other person Lux choose

Parker Brandley

Good fucking luck buddy

First you got to win that love dice roll and now you need to somehow make board games sex related or it's not happening

Lucky for you strip poker does technically count. Maybe not a board game but it has clear rules and if Uno counts this can count to. He will not let you get away with using this all the time tho

Despite how stingy he can be with it he's very easy to work up. Just a little too much skin and/or touching a certain way can give him a boner instantly

He's quite nervous. Being awkward, and fidget quite a bit for your first time, but he quickly gets into the groove after a bit

When you finally get to the stage of actually doing something he's a feral animal with it

Massive switch! He doesn't really care what way it goes

Bottoming he's very noisy, and reacts very intensely. Unless you gag him the whole house is going to hear his semi screaming

Topping intense, and quick. Boy does not waste a second he acts like it's the end of the world as a plows into you speeding up.

Still a delightful mix of serious and a bit goofy during sex "Ohohoh~! Holy fucking shit!"

When he's more comfortable he'll probably confront you directly for his wants. "Whoever wins tops" he says putting a board game in front of you abruptly.

If you do cheat he will deny having sex outright tho

Nothing sexy like orgasm denial just straight up denying sex maybe for multiple days depending how pissed he is. You only get orgasm denial privileges when you play rightfully and you try to distract him in the game because it's only fair then

He's secretly not really so secretly a pervert his eyes widening cartoonously if you wear a skimpy outfit. Looking over your body secretly whenever he can (it's very obvious)

I feel in my heart of hearts that he is a thighs guy and he wants to be crushed by your thighs so badly

Dunk Shuttlecock

Let's just say it up front and right here you have to tell him if you want sex. He will not and won't catch on to hints or innuendos

His mentality on sports is similar to the mentality he has with sex. He just wants it to be enjoyable doesn't matter how fast, slow, intense, goofy, as long as your both having a great time

Tho if you ask him to give you it to you rough oh he sure will but the chance of you accidentally getting a bruise from it and him apologizing after is higher then maybe preferable(depending who you are) but it's a small risk for a unbelievably great time

However regularly he still has pretty good pace at least enough to make you a little weak after

His stamina is crazy willing to do like 3 to 4 rounds if you're up to it of course. He'll makes sure not to exhaust you too much taking decent breaks in between rounds to get yourself prepared

He's doesn't take sex not all too seriously grinning like a goof, and sometimes giggling

If you're the ticklish type he would definitely tickle you randomly during sex just to hear your laugh

He would be so into funny role play sex. Porno quality stuff as you both try to keep a straight face

Think of stuff you typical would expect like jock and cheerleader, jock and nerd, ect ect. Maybe even a pizza delivery thing too

He's not against a little exhibition. Sometimes grabbing you by the wrist to go somewhere more quiet

Something something shake weight joke

Eats pussy like a champ I know he does. That's not to say he's not good with a dick too [insert shuttlecock joke]

Naked yoga into sex. That's it

Quite a big fan of cockwarming while cuddling in between rounds or after sex

He's naturally a top and prefers being top too but if you ask him cute/sexually enough he'll gladly take the back seat

[daniiiboo]

mv1- every race, every hug

summary - max cant get his gloves on properly, so reader helps him.

dani's thoughts - first fic in my birthday countdown :)) i honestly love max, and this fic is so cute to mee

warnings - nothinn

word count - 610

read the rest of my birthday countdown fics : here !

It starts like it always does.

Max is pacing the floor of his motorhome in his race suit, one glove on, the other dangling from his fingers, his brows furrowed like something isn’t quite right. You’re leaning against the doorframe, watching him spin in little anxious circles.

"Max," you call out. He stops running, glancing over at you with that familiar look, like he requires help but is too arrogant to say so out loud.

You tilt your head. "Trouble?"

He raises his gloved hand in frustration.

"It's stupid," he mutters. "I can never get this one tightened up right. It's as if the glove has a sixth sense and knows when I'm rushed."

You smile and walk toward him, already reaching for the strap. “Here let me help you, I got it.”

Max chuckles under his breath. “You should be on the payroll.”

Pay me in hugs," you joke back to him, already getting the way the glove fits correctly, drawing it up tightly around his wrist like you have a dozen times. It's become a ritual now, quiet, intimate, something known by only the two of you before he faces the paddock storm.

When the glove is on and the strap buckled just so, you strike his knuckles and spread your arms.

"Okay. Now the other half of the bargain."

He comes in without thinking. Arms tight around you, helmet against your shoulder, his whole body unwinds in your arms. The tension before the race melts away to something more concrete.

"I hate how much this comforts me," he growls.

You grin. "Love you too."

The race is chaos.

There's rain on the track, there's a mid-race safety car, there's disaster narrowly avoided in Turn 11. Your heart's racing half the time, but your fingers are still tingling from tying his glove.

And then, he wins.

Not just a win, him dominating. Sprints a blistering last lap, crossing the line with space to spare before the next car even spots the checkered flag. The garage erupts. You're cheering along, but there is only one destination your eyes wander: the screen showing his face, red and flushed beneath the helmet.

You hardly realize he's pursuing you until you turn and see him running along the paddock walkway, helmet already off, rosy-cheeked and grinning.

He doesn't say anything. Just picks you up and holds you in his arms tightly enough that your feet lift off the ground for an instant.

"You were watching?" he asks, still panting.

"Of course," you laugh against his chest.

He belittles you but won't let go. No, he takes off one glove and shoves his fingers between yours.

"You're going to all the races now," he announces.

Your eyebrows jump. "What?"

Max edges closer.

"No more weekend skippings. I need you. The gloves won't fit on properly without you, and I don't win without the hug."

"Max—"

“I’m serious,” he cuts in, smiling but sincere. “You think it’s a coincidence I’ve had my best starts when you’re there? It’s the glove. It’s you. It’s us.”

You blink, overwhelmed for a second by how serious he is.

“But it’s, like… twenty-two races.”

He shrugs.

"Then we'll get you a paddock pass. Your own headset. I don't care. I just—" He stops, looking down at your clasped hands. "I'm better when you're there. And I drive better when I'm better."

You look at him, all windswept hair and pink cheeks and fireproofs unzipped halfway, and your heart actually aches with how much you love him.

"Okay," you whisper. "Every race. Every glove. Every hug."

He kisses your forehead, and your nose, and your lips.

"I'll win every damn time."

[inhuman-obey-me]

do you remember the ask you did for the brothers about mc catching them doing something demonic?? could you do that but with the side characters?

Hi hello this is WAY overdue and I am so sorry it's taken this long to get around to it if you're even still around!! But yes, definitely wanted to do a version with the side characters for this. These...got much longer than the previous ones, so please take that as an apology for taking years to get to this.

Previous post referenced can be found here!

[Mod Cosmos]

MC accidentally catching the Side Characters being Demonic or Violent

content warning: blood, gore, implied body horror

Note: As before, this is from the perspective of an MC that might just not want to necessarily see all this

DIAVOLO

You were staying the night at the Demon Lord's Castle, exhausted after a long day running around with Diavolo. Despite your exhaustion, you find yourself waking up in the middle of the night — and notice that the Demon Prince is no longer resting beside you. Wondering where he's gone and figuring he must have had something to do, you try and fall back asleep, but to no avail. After some tossing and turning, you decide to get up and take a walk to the garden, hoping that its usual tranquility will help bring back the slumber that now escapes you.

On your way, you hear a distant crash, like glass shattering against stone. Remembering the many stories of how haunted the castle was, a chill creeps down your spine. You know its better to leave it be (just go to the garden, you tell yourself) but your curiosity gets the better of you, as it always does. With careful steps, you make your way down the hall from where you heard the crash, the portraits on the wall watching your every move with morbid glee. Every cell in your body is screaming for you to turn back, and you almost do — until you hear a hysterical laugh swiftly cut off by an agonized yell. A muffled voice soon follows, and you recognize it well.

"Your mistake, like all your predecessors, is mistaking my tolerance for weakness." Diavolo's voice becomes clear as you creep towards an archway, and your heart leaps into your throat at the scene before you. Blood stains the walls, a demon you don't recognize made further unrecognizable by the disfigurement of his flesh, as if it was melting from his bones. "A pity it had to come to this, Guthor. I'll send my regards to your little association." The mockery in the prince's voice is rare to hear, and in a flash the other demon is reduced to nothing but cinders.

"—MC?" Your startled at the sound of your name, and before you can blink you find yourself staring into worried golden eyes. "What are you doing here?! You should be asleep." His four wings fully unfurl, as if to block your view of the gruesome remains. "I…I apologize that you witnessed that." He cups your chin, taking in your unsettled expression. "I'll answer any questions you have, but let's first return to my room, shall we? I'll get you whatever you need."

BARBATOS

Your whole body vibrates as bass, drums, and discordant guitar riffs pour out the speakers at Tartarus Hall, a metal show well underway. It's not the usual environment one would find Barbatos, but you jumped at the chance to accompany him to the show when he cautiously offered. It delighted you to see him outside of the stiffness of his day-to-day duties, and although he still doesn't seem to break too much from his usual statuesque nature, you can certainly tell he's more relaxed.

Eventually deciding to take a break from the rowdy crowd, the two of you make your way to the bar for some much needed refreshments. As Barbatos hands you a drink, you notice something grabs his attention — and an ominous shadow falls over his features. Positioning you safely in a corner by the bar, Barbatos gives you a small smile.

"I'm going to use the restroom, so please stay here until I get back."

You nod and wait patiently, enjoying the music from a distance while sipping your drink, wondering what it was that really captured his attention. After a while, you find yourself with an empty glass and still no Barbatos in sight, so you decide you'll make a quick trip to the restroom yourself. After asking the bartender to let your demon companion know of your whereabouts if he gets back before you do, you make your way through the crowd and down a narrow hall lit with neon signs — and that's when you start to hear it. Screams.

At first, you wonder if its just from the vocalist on stage, but it sounds far closer to you than from the speakers. With a gulp, you cautiously turn a corner and can soon make out a familiar voice, muffled behind a door that isn't quite closed all the way. Peering in, you see Barbatos towering over another, a sharp object in his hand glistening with blood. You stomach twists. "I wish I could have more time with you, but I must return to someone far more important." He sighs, ignoring the other's pleas for mercy. "All you traitors sing the same."

In an instant, the other demon is dead on the floor. Before you can even move to take a step back, you find yourself face-to-face with Barbatos, a gasp leaving your lips as his tail captures your waist and pulls you away from the scene and back to the neon corridor.

"You can't help yourself, can you, dear?" Barbatos scolds, though his gaze softens as he checks you over. "I apologize for leaving you for so long, and for having to witness that. Let's go enjoy the rest of the show for now, shall we?"

SIMEON

It had been some time since your last visit to the human world, so Simeon had decided to gift you with a surprise trip — just the two of you, enjoying all that this coastal city had to offer. There was also a local festival in full swing, which meant dragging Simeon stall to stall to try a variety of food and play some games. You both eventually take a break away from all the festivities to enjoy the sunset, the last rays of the daylight disappearing into the horizon as waves crash on rocks below. You turn to smile at Simeon, but notice that something feels…off. In fact, you had sensed a feeling of tension from him since an encounter earlier that day with a less-than-friendly stranger.

"Simeon? Are you okay? You're not still thinking about that guy, are you?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, I'm sorry." Whatever darkness his eyes held a moment ago disappears, his gaze gentle as he looks to you. "Just a little tired, not to worry. Why don't you go look at some souvenirs," he motions to a cute store a few steps away, "…to bring back for the others, and I'll go fetch us some coffee?"

You agree, though can't quite shake off your concern. Watching from the corner of your eye, you see Simeon wander off before turning into an alley. Leaving the souvenir shopping behind, you decide to follow the angel to see what he's really up to. It's quieter in this part of town, and even quieter in the alley with no cafe in sight. You hear a dull thud and quickly follow the noise, peeking around a corner down another alley — only to freeze at what you saw.

It's a dead-end, and a man is backed up against the brick wall, holding a knife out towards Simeon as if in self-defense. You recognize the man as the one who had harassed you earlier, nearly bruising your arm when he tried to drag you off somewhere. You had managed to shake him off and thought that was the end of it, but Simeon clearly had other ideas.

An ethereal glow emanates from the angel, your eyes beginning to sting as your vision becomes slightly warped. The man opens his mouth as if to scream, but no sound comes out, and he drops his knife to the floor. "You are lucky I am only giving you a warning," Simeon's voice seems to echo, his hand now splayed out across the other's chest. "Reflect on your actions and repent, or next time you won't be so lucky."

A flash of light momentarily blinds you, causing you to stumble back. As you regain a sense of your surroundings, you find your face cupped by gentle hands and your gaze met with bewildered celestial eyes.

"MC! I…I'm sorry. That man continued to follow us throughout the day and was intent on hurting you." His voice is full of worry, his fingers flitting across your body to ensure that you were okay. "You weren't supposed to see that."

"Is he—?" You begin to ask.

"He'll be fine, just…terrified for quite some time." Simeon clears his throat, his features showing relief once he's confirmed you're not harmed. "Let's go get something to eat, okay? Whatever you want."

SOLOMON

The last few weeks had been a whirlwind, filled with various events and obligations that had kept you away from your sorcerer studies with Solomon. Far overdue for a lesson, you were finally getting together tonight to practice a few new complicated spells. You decide to stop by the market to pick up a few snacks, texting Solomon to ask if there's anything he wants. A few minutes pass and he fails to respond, so you give him a quick call, assuming he's probably not paying attention to his DDD.

No answer. You sigh and decide to just get what you know he likes before making your way to Purgatory Hall. Taking the more scenic route, you leisurely walk through one of your favorite parks, going over some of the spells in your head — but your mind begins to wander as you notice that Solomon still hasn't returned your texts or call, even though he should be expecting you later. He was usually quick to respond, especially when it came to his "favorite apprentice", as he so often said. He's probably just deep in one of his books or experiments, you assure yourself, but the slight sense of unease forming in your stomach won't go away.

Then, you sense it. A faint warmth on your hand coming from the sorcerer's ring that Solomon had gifted you. He had recently imbued a spell on both your ring and his to let you know when the other was close, but you still were no where near Purgatory Hall. Rather, the ring was pulling you towards another path that went into the forest.

"Stop, stop! I'm sorry, okay?!" You eventually hear a coarse voice, so you quietly hide behind a tree and peer around to see what's going on, eyes widening at what you find. A demon seems to be brutally bound to the floor, blood seeping from his eyes and mouth as he looks up and pleads to the sorcerer who put him in such a position.

"Coming to your senses after you tried to take away mine?" Solomon answers in a mocking and cold tone. "You should have known better than to try your tricks on me, Pinen." He takes a few steps towards the demon, squatting down to get more to his level. "And," his voice is dangerously low and furious, "…you should have thought twice before trying to threaten my apprentice. Have fun getting out of this one."

The demon opens his mouth to scream, but you blink and he's gone. You blink again and find Solomon before you, his hands gently gripping your shoulders and worry in his eyes, a shadow of guilt on his features. Of course, he must have sensed you were nearby.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to get caught up in this." He glances down and scoops up the bag that you must have dropped at some point. "I'll explain what happened and what I did once we're out of here, okay?"