#making sure. i still know how to render

[scorchrend]

i like this guy he activates my gaydar but instead of gay people it detects filipinos

and also gay people but that’s besides the point

[wackywatchdotcom]

ive posted so much every single day on this blog for weeks now i feel weird having barely posted today . ive been busy but uhhh heres a random image i never posted from my tadc art folder?

[kyurochurro]

exploring the woods with some little buddies!!🌿

[thedailyvio]

Day 253

[ourstarsystem]

even though i feel like i can confidently tell when a piece of art is generative A/I, i really don't feel inclined or really even justified calling someone out for it due to the precedent it sets - especially when artists who DO make their own pieces get caught in the crossfire for being inexperienced or making the choice to be more free-form when it comes to character design / consistency...

[freakalot]

letting gojo fuck you raw might have been a mistake, especially now that he wants kids..☆

(part 1 here)

yes—it felt good. heavenly, even. feeling him fill you up without a contraceptive barrier between you might overlap an ego death on the life-altering-experiences venn diagram.

but now your boyfriend throws a tantrum whenever you tell him to wrap it. he pouts and whines and stamps his fucking feet like a child at your child-preventative measures. he’s too tall to act like a toddler—if you didn’t secretly enjoy the pining you’d hit him upside the back of his head and tell him to stop sulking.

“we’re too young to be parents,” you’d tell him as he rubs his uncovered cock through your folds, from your entrance up to your sensitive clit and back down.

his counter? “the earlier we start, the longer we have to try for more.”

“maybe youre forgetting the whole ‘jujutsu sorcerer, could-die-at-any-moment' thing?”

“are you forgetting that i’m the strongest? plus, i think i’d look hot saving the world wearing a baby carrier… not that i would endanger our kid like that. bad point, ask me a new one.”

“we aren’t playing trivia.”

“cmon,” a tap of the head of his cock to your clit. “humour me.”

“alright, children are fucking expensive.”

“babe, you’re not serious—you do know i’m filthy rich, right? capitalism fears me. i’m like that rich disney duck with the top hat and—”

you point a finger in his face. “put a goddamn condom on or you’re banned from sex for a month, scrooge.”

and he blinks, pretends to be offended at how responsible you are, and then falls into an easy smile because sex with you is more than enough for him. when he sinks into you, condom-covered or not, he falls a little bit more in love each time.

but it is not the same and you know it.

the weight of him on top of you is the same. as is the snapping thrusts of his hips into yours and the gentle circles he traces over your clit and the way he moans your name once he’s sheathed fully inside of you. it’s the same.

but it’s not the same as taking him raw. it’s not the bulge of his veins against your velvet walls. nor is it the beading precum at his tip dripping inside of you, or the filthy fucking drawling moans he lets out when he fills you to the brim.

“you’re so beautiful,” he's moaning like he's in heat. completely enthralled with every aspect of your being, satoru groans and moans and snaps forward into you like he's trying to breed you regardless.

and you're so full, stretched to your limits with his cock pulsing inside of you, but you don't feel satiated like you could. you've tasted it once, the feel of his cum spilling into you, the knowledge of what it could do to you. to him. he would look good as a dad. god, him holding a baby in his arms...

"pull out."

gojo stops immediately at your words, blinking the lust from his eyes in an immediate shock change of expression. he's looking you over, making sure you're not in any pain, before pulling out of you completely with no questions asked. he's always been good like that—sure, he'll whine about wearing latex but he'd never push you past your spoken limits.

"you wanna stop?" he asks gently, already reaching for a washcloth to wipe you down with. his eyes watch you carefully, obsessed with your interest and comfort: you have to stop yourself from laughing at his panic. "we can watch some TV or go to bed or i could make you—"

his words die in his mouth when you reach down to his still-hard cock and slowly pull the condom that covers it from the top. it slides from his length with a little resistance before finally pulling over the head and snapping back at your hand with a subtle sting.

"fuck me," you meet his eyes.

"what? you said—"

"satoru. fuck me. breed me, even. how many other ways do i have to put it? i want you to fuck a baby into me."

he blinks again. no witty comment, no awful smirk or joke about being a dilf. you've gone and rendered satoru speechless. when he does finally move his lips, it's not to dirty talk you like expected.

"we aren't married."

you can't help but laugh. "what?"

"i'm going to marry you first, and then you are going to make me a dad. i have it all planned out, babe, we can't have drunk honeymoon sex if you're pregnant. though you would look fucking beautiful on a beach somewhere with a baby bump. god now i'm conflicted."

"you have it planned?"

the thought of satoru planning this out hits you, him thinking about a future with you, a ring on your finger, embracing the stress of parenthood together so well that when the kids move out and you're old and grey, you abhor having a silent home.

"so are you going to propose or not?" you look at him.

again, he blinks. "right now?"

"why not? do you have a ring?"

satoru looks at you, smiles, and slips off the bed—still naked—to reach into the bedside drawer. a small black box sits in his top drawer, ironically under a pile of condoms. he holds it in his hand and returns to you with a kiss to your knee, and then one to your inner thigh, and another just above your clit. he works his way up your stomach, of course stopping to bite at your nipples when he reaches your chest, and then presses himself fully against you once his lips find yours.

when he pulls away, you're met with the sight of a ring you had pointed out to him months ago. had he really been planning this long? "i knew i was going to marry you on our first date," he says, but then counters, "actually, that's a lie. it was when i tasted that sweet pussy of yours for the first time, but that's not as romantic."

you smile, bracing yourself for a long-winded speech when satoru suddenly pushes the tip of his now-uncovered cock inside of you. you gasp, and he swallows it with a kiss before taking your hand in his and slipping the ring down your finger with a breathy; "will you marry me?"

"yes," of course, is your answer. which warrants a sudden deep thrust from your now-fiancé as he bottoms out inside of you.

"yeah?" he nips at your neck. "you'll marry me? gonna make me a dad too, huh? gonna fill you up, baby, gonna breed you out and—"

"i thought you said—"

"changed my mind. now, lift your legs up: you're not leaving this bed until i've knocked you up, pretty."

[gossamyrrh]

noncon recording, fem!reader.

no thoughts, just grimy fling!toji fucking you on your back, meaty limbs caging your own, breaths heavy and warm against your heated, sensitive flesh as he wildly ruts into you—

and he thinks, fuck, it can’t get much better than this. until it does, somehow, and you’re throwing your head back with a moan, spongy walls clenching around him, clamping down as you shudder beneath his bulk and force him deeper inside your poor, weeping cunt.

grimy fling!toji feels pleasure humming behind his eyes—in his toes. he’s pulling air harshly through his nostrils, grip slackening as he rides out a wave before it crests and he starts grinding shallowly again, heavy pants slipping past his lips as he focuses on that telltale twinge in the pit of his belly.

(and pointedly ignores the itch in the back of his head, the one that tells him to cross boundaries: to take and take and take—)

“ah, toji,” you moan. “fuck me harder, please, need you—aah, nngh—!! fuuuck, don’t stop—s-shit... i want more of you, wanna take everythin-nghh...”

but all his inhibitions go out the window as he decides you’re the best lay he’s had in a long time. probably ever. and well, toji wants to cherish the moment—savour it. and he decides he won’t let such a precious thing slip past his fingers—not without something to remember you by.

so, grimy as he is, he shimmies his phone from his pocket (an old, beat up thing that can only make calls and texts. record, too!) and turns it on with eager, trembling fingers.

he keeps you distracted with his lips in the crook of your neck, teeth grazing against your skin as he clicks the camera icon and you pop up on screen: writhing, sweating and mewling. his cock hilted deep inside of you.

it’s entirely debauched, he knows that. for him, that was the thrill of this sort of thing—that forbidden nature; the danger and taboo. oh, how it fucking turned him on…

he moans deeply against your skin as your sopping, wet cunt fills the screen, echoes throughout the room. he can feel that familiar pleasure coiling tight and hard between his hips, rendering his rhythm erratic—so deliciously haphazard—with its quick jerks and throbs—your bodies practically becoming one in tandem.

(and he makes sure to capture this: the union of your bodies. the way the dark, curly hairs at the base of his cock mingle with your own—meshed together by proximity. and fuck, he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. second to you.)

as he feels you quiver beneath him, he takes the moment to watch your face contort with pleasure: eyebrows lacing together, nose wrinkling, plush mouth parting in a moan so ungodly in its desperation.

he lifts the camera to your face. (you’re far too blissed out to notice, face scrunched tight.)

and when you cum—his cock still inside your pliant and wet heat—your walls clench like a vice. you pull him further with your insistent drags, coaxing his orgasm to spill from within him in a long, shuddering sigh. your hands running over his meaty thighs until they curl in his hair and pull.

pleasure ebbs over his skin like a flush. starting from his face and dipping down past his jaw, neck and chest.

the roll of his hips stutters, and he groans as the coil unravels, as he pulls out and releases a thick, syrupy white load on your tummy, and he captures all the facets of your expression with a weak click: the arch in your back, your jaw locked open in a soundless scream, eyelids fluttering weakly as your hips buck helplessly.

grimy fling!toji goes home afterwards and jerks off to all (and i mean aaaalll) of the videos and pics, thick fingers smeared in cum and spittle and sweat as his voice drops to a ragged whimper as he cums for the umpteenth time, eyes burning and palm numb.

and of course, grimy fling!toji is showing his friend shiu the next day, prattling on and on about the chick with the heavenly pussy that he desperately wants to fuck again ;(

[ratherchili]

 𖹭 cw: suggestive, edgy, mdni

part one | two | three | four | five ‹soon›

You can't say you weren't warned about your big brother's friend sukuna, but nothing could have truly prepared you for him.

"Funny looking how?" You ask, arching an eyebrow.

"Just go to your room while he's here," your brother Toji urges. "Don't need you feeding his ego, goddamnit."

"He's funny looking and somehow my presence will feed his ego?" You deadpan, with zero inclination to forfeit your comfy spot on the couch. "Make it make sense, Toji. Or better yet, fuck off so I can finish this cover letter," you gesture at the open laptop sitting on your thighs. "Faster I can get out of this shithole, the better," you grumble.

Although, your brother's place is far from a shithole, in truth. You know better than to ask how he affords it doing nothing but fucking around with the sinister assortment of thugs he calls friends. In turn, he doesn't ask you about the unfortunate circumstances that landed you in one of his spare rooms... again.

Toji groans. "Yeah he gets off on scaring people. Especially girls. Especially hot girls. And, I suspect, especially girls who are related to me."

"Gross," you say, directing you attention back to the screen. "I'm not scared of your asshole friend and I'm not moving."

Toji opens his mouth to protest further, but too late. There is a loud knock on the door followed by it crashing open and thunderous footsteps coming down the hall.

Despite more than a little curiosity regarding your brother's funny looking friend, you manage to keep your eyes on your work.

Toji is grumbling some weak attempt to direct the visitor toward the "stuff" in the garage when a shadow falls over you. Still, you continue typing.

"Who's this?" A deep voice growls. "Not gonna introduce me?"

"Just my little sister. Leave her alone, Sukuna. She's a bitch anyway."

"Fuck you, Toji. And a preemptive fuck you to you, too, whoever you a- hey, ow!" You exclaim as the newcomer slams the laptop closed on your fingers. "What the h-" the exclamation dies on your lips when you finally raise your eyes to see the largest man you have ever seen looming over you.

He is a lot to take in. You silently curse Toji for not warning you properly. "Kind of funny looking" does not even begin to describe the thing standing before you. Four crimson eyes stare back at you, two of which are set in a twisted mass of keloid scar tissue that takes up most of one side of his tattoed face. Eyes aren't the only anatomical feature he has extra of, you notice. Two sets of muscular arms protrude from the cut off sleeves of his t-shirt.

It takes a lot to render you speechless, but the sight of him does the trick. Although, you can't help but think that the smirking bastard somehow makes the odd look work for him. Yeah. 'Circus sideshow level freak but kinda hot' would've been a better descriptor. Although you manage to hold the man's gaze, you're sure your eyes are as wide as saucers. To your horror, you feel heat creeping up your neck as your lip twitches in search of something - anything - to say that might lessen the humiliation you feel. And Toji was right, this jerk is eating it up.

"Toj said you were ugly, but jesus..." you say, when you finally regain your composure.

Sukuna laughs, flashing a set of pointed canines before he abruptly turns to follow your brother towards the garage.

"I like her," he says, hooking a thumb over his shoulder in your general direction, which, for some reason, makes your heart beat a little too hard.

"No, man." Toji groans. "Just no."

part one | two | three | four | five ‹soon›

[digitald0rk]

OVERSTIMULATING YOUR ALIEN BOYFRIEND !

pairing — mark grayson x gn!reader.

synopsis — what the title says 👅 stumbled upon this on twt and immediately thought of mark grayson. [ the link is porn btw so yeah fair warning ]

warnings — uhh porn with no plot :p

a/n — first post really nervous, i don't really write nsfw a lot so yeah mb if this is bad :( i just really had to get it out there LMFAO. i need him so bad it's actually insane. mark grayson get out my head challenge : impossible!

thinking about mark grayson being a good boy for you <3

jerking him off after a particularly stressful mission, his small moans turning into full blown whimpers and whines as he tries not to blow his load right then and there because he's a good boy, he knows better.

"baby please, please"

please just let him cum already! why are you being so mean to him, he's your sweet boy isn't he? :(

and when you give him the permission he'd been aching for, begging for, he blabbers small thank you's over and over in his whiny voice as he reaches that sweet relief, painting your hand in his sticky hot release.

he breathes heavily, eyes fluttering shut, practically panting as he tries to calm down from that intense orgasm- wait wait no, don't touch him there he's still all sensitive!

he groans, his eyes snapping open when he feels the familiar rhythm of your hand stroking his pretty cock :( he lets out embarrassingly loud noises, he can't do this again! but god it feels so good he can't help himself from bucking his hips up into your ruthless hand, wanting more.

"i can't, oh god i- i can't!" he whimpers, his body seemingly moving on it's own to chase that release again despite his words.

praise him, coo at him and he's all putty in your hands in an instant, willing to give you whatever you want, even if it renders him to an overstimulated pathetic mess, anything for his sweetheart.

his back arches off the bed, leaning into your touch, eyes all glossy as he loses himself in the pleasure you give him. another loud groan of your name rips from the back of his throat as he cums again.

he nearly cries when you don't stop jerking him off, are you trying to milk him dry? mindless babbles and sounds leave his pretty mouth as you use his previous load as lube, gently kissing his tears like you aren't the one overstimulating him.

he squirms and twitches under your touch, giving up on controlling his noises. the pleasure he feels bordering on painful but it only adds to the bliss, it feels so good he swears he sees stars, the only thing on his mind is you.

and when you pinch his nipples and tease them with your tongue, he knows he's done for.

his tears don't stop and neither do his moans of your name, just like your hand against his cock. he makes an effort to not scream your name when he cums for the third time in the span of such a short time by biting down on his bottom lip, he bites down so hard it draws blood. the muscles on his abdomen clenching and unclenching and you swear you've never seen a sight so beautiful.

your boyfriend looks so good like this, it's actually downright unfair how pretty he looks all blissed out like this.

the strongest man on the planet all pliant and needy under you is sure an ego boost.

and absolutely none of that helps with your own growing arousal.

his body writhes harder when you kiss him, everything feels so intense, even the kiss. with his brain turned almost all to mush he tries to sloppily kiss you back, all tongue and teeth accompanied by his soft whimpers which make you giggle.

and normally he'd laugh with you too if he wasn't all flushed and sweaty and acting like a dog in heat. his eyes still glossy as his chest heaves with the uneven breaths he takes.

and to no one's surprise he's still somewhat hard, viltrumite genes do wonders to your libido it seems.

"can you give me another one mark?" my god are you fucking crazy?! let him breathe!

but how can he deny his baby? especially when you look at him like that, but he's not even sure he can cum anymore and-

"please?" you bat your eyelashes at him.

and yeah, he's a goner.

it's gonna be a long night.

© digitald0rk 2025. please do not steal my work, thank u. interactions, like and reblogs are highly appreciated. tysm for reading and i hope you have a good day / night >:3 want more? click here ★

[dakusan]

BDSM Profiles

stray kids ot8 x reader | eight men. one mission: ruin you beautifully.

🖤 synopsis: Eight profiles. Eight archetypes. One shared goal: your complete, consensual destruction. What began as a playful exploration of kinks spiraled into a curated BDSM character study of Stray Kids—each rendered with precision, filth, and psychological flair. You’re not just being fucked. You’re being understood.

💌a/n: you all already knew i was going to hell. this is just the velvet rope section. so… this spiraled. violently. what started as “hahaha chan’s kink profile” turned into a full BDSM dossier series featuring eight men who are clearly out to ruin us delicately. inspired by this post I wrote , i decided to make it worse. better? worse. let’s say both. i hope you enjoy this descent into the beautiful, depraved psyches of these chaotic domcore men. i wrote it so you’d feel ruined and cherished. just like they’d want. p.s. if you see this on your dash at 2am, drink water. and stretch. they'd want you hydrated. p.p.s. if you send me your bias... i might tell you how he’d destroy you personally. for science. 🕯️ p.p.p.s. reblogs = aftercare. likes are foreplay. do the right thing.

⚠️warnings: 18+ ONLY (MDNI) — explicit BDSM themes, kink content (degradation, overstimulation, bondage, sadism, praise, fear kink, aftercare, etc.), dom/sub dynamics, filthy language, emotional intensity, and possessive behavior — all fictional and consensual.

🎶now playing: "Criminal" – Taemin

📍credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

Bang Chan // 방찬

Dominant | Caregiver | Primal (Dom) Core Archetype: Daddy Dom ⟡ Soft Dom ⟡ Service Top Vibe: “You’re mine, and I’ll prove it slowly.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Daddy kink — You don’t call him Daddy for fun. You do it because his voice drops an octave and your legs give out when you do. Rules. Rewards. Discipline that sounds like worship.

Overstimulation — He’ll edge you until you’re sobbing. Then make you cum until you’re begging him to stop. And he still won’t.

Praise + Degradation — “Such a good girl… even when you’re dripping all over Daddy’s cock like a filthy little thing.”

Mirror play — Makes you watch. Makes you see what you do to him. “Look at yourself, baby. Look how desperate you get for me.”

Bondage — Silk ties. Leather cuffs. His belt. His fucking voice is a restraint.

Obsession kink — He won’t admit it out loud. But the way he tracks your every breath? You’re not just his. You’re his religion.

🔗 DOM STYLE

Emotional dominance — He reads you like a book mid-scene. “You’re not saying anything, angel. Color?”

Controlled cruelty — He’ll ruin you so slowly it feels like mercy. Then smile when you break.

Service-focused — Yes, he’s in charge. But your pleasure is the mission. Even when he’s wrecking you, he’s cataloguing what makes you melt.

Off-scene control — He won’t let you text your ex. He will pick your dress. He does feed you aftercare snacks like you’re his beloved brat.

💦 FILTHY FAVOURITES

Positions: Bent over the studio desk. Knees on the mirror floor. Legs over his shoulders while he praises you through tears.

Dirty talk level: 8/10 – Degrading Devotion

“That’s it, sweetheart. Take Daddy’s cock like a good little mess.” “You said ruin you. So don’t cry now.” “Look at you. Fucked dumb and still begging. Say thank you.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Gold-standard. Warm towels. Gentle hands. Voice dipped in honey.

“You did so well for me, baby. Let me hold you.”

Lee Know // 리노

Sadist | Brat Tamer | Primal (Dom) | Owner Core Archetype: Elegant Sadist ⟡ Possessive Dom ⟡ Pet Play Daddy Vibe: “You're mine. And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Brat taming — He lives for the defiance in your eyes right before he breaks you. You roll your eyes? You’re face-down, ass up, and not walking tomorrow.

Impact play — Leather belt. Open palm. Riding crop. He doesn’t just leave marks—he signs his name in bruises.

Orgasm denial — “Did I say you could cum?” / “Cry about it, kitten.”

Pet play (dom side) — You’re his kitten. He’ll collar you. Make you beg prettily or not at all.

Sadism + precision — Pain with a purpose. Every slap, choke, bite is calculated. He’s not cruel by accident—he’s an artist.

Choking kink — One hand wrapped tight around your throat, the other tracing your trembling lips. “Breathe, baby. You’ll need it.”

🔗 DOM STYLE

Quiet, unshakable authority — No raised voice. Just narrowed eyes, calm hands, and complete ruin.

Owner dynamic — He owns your time, your pleasure, your body. You misbehave? He retrains you. You obey? He rewards filthily.

Degrading praise — “Such a pathetic little slut for me, huh? But mine.”

Control freak, but make it sexy — His rules apply outside the bedroom. That outfit? Approved by him. Your leash? In his coat pocket.

💦 FILTHY FAVOURITES

Positions: Collared and kneeling. Bent over with your leash tugged. Pinned against the mirror as he marks your throat with his teeth.

Dirty talk level: 9/10 – Velvet Ruin

“Keep crying. It makes your moans sound prettier.” “Say you’re mine. Say it while I ruin you.” “You’re my good little toy, even when you’re being bad.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Subtle but intentional. He won’t coo—he’ll clean you up, kiss your bruises, and tuck you into his hoodie with a quiet, “Told you not to act up, didn’t I?”

He doesn’t talk about how much he cares. He just shows it—in the way he pulls you into his lap, or brushes your hair off your sweat-damp forehead like it’s sacred.

Changbin // 창빈

Soft Dom | Primal (Dom) | Caregiver | Service Top Core Archetype: Devoted Dominant ��� Power Top with a Heart ⟡ Strength-as-Love Dom Vibe: “I’ll ruin you gently. But you’ll never forget how safe it felt.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Strength kink — Tosses you like you weigh nothing. Pins you down, holds your wrists with one hand, fucks you deep while moaning like you’re the one in control.

Praise kink (extreme) — You’ll cum from his words alone. “So good for me, baby. Look at you. Look how well you take me.”

Overstimulation + tears kink — You cry? He twitches. You sob? He praises harder. You break? He holds you.

Body worship — He kisses every inch of you like he’s memorizing your skin. Like you’re the altar, and he’s kneeling to serve.

Breath play + control — Gentle but firm. His hand on your throat doesn’t scare—it steadies.

Whimper kink — Your little sounds make him feral. He’ll go slower just to hear more. Then ruin you harder when you beg.

🔗 DOM STYLE

Service Dom disguised as a primal top — He’s giving "Yes, I’m pounding you into the mattress, but I’m doing it for you, angel."

Emotionally invested dominance — The eye contact? The moaned affirmations? He means every word.

Possessive but soft — He doesn’t growl unless someone touches what’s his. Otherwise, he’s wrecking you while telling you how proud he is.

💦 FILTHY FAVOURITES

Positions: Against the wall. Held in his lap. Pinned with both legs over his shoulders as he whispers, “I’ve got you.”

Dirty talk level: 8/10 – Degrading Devotion

“That’s it, baby. Cry for me. So good… so fucking perfect.” “You were made for me, weren’t you? Look at this. You’re trembling, but you’re still taking all of me.” “Don’t hide from me. I want to see all of it—all of you.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Warm. Heavy. Gentle. He’ll carry you to bed, run you a bath if your legs can’t work, then pull you into his chest and kiss your hair like he didn’t just make you forget your name.

He whispers:

“You did so well, angel. I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.”

Hyunjin // 현진

Soft Dom | Rope Top | Primal (Sensual) | Caregiver Core Archetype: Artistic Dominant ⟡ Poetic Power Exchange ⟡ Shibari Siren Vibe: “Let me ruin you slowly—beautifully—and then kiss every broken piece.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Shibari-adjacent bondage — He doesn’t just tie you up. He laces meaning into every knot. His silk scarf is a ribbon, a weapon, a promise.

Sensory play — Blindfolds. Tracing fingertips. Whispered filth so low it makes your spine arch. He builds tension like he’s painting with it.

Praise + degradation blend — “You’re such a desperate little thing… but so good for me, angel.” His voice never raises—but your pulse does.

Power exchange (calm control) — You obey not from fear, but from awe. His command is velvet-gloved and irresistible.

Oral fixation — Your mouth, your whimpers, your moans—he worships them all. But he’ll also fill that mouth when he wants you silent.

Marking kink — He paints your body in bruises and kisses both before and after. Art doesn’t just hang—it stains.

🔗 DOM STYLE

Slow, immersive dominance — His pace is agony. He draws it out until you ache for him. “You’ll thank me later,” he murmurs as you beg.

Silent control — One glance. One breathy command. You’re on your knees before you realize you moved.

Worship-as-destruction — He praises your pain. He kisses through your tears. He breaks you with devotion.

💦 FILTHY FAVORITES

Positions: Tied and kneeling. Bound on the bed, legs parted, arms laced above you as he teases every inch. Back arched over a pillow as he takes his time.

Dirty talk level: 9/10 – Velvet Ruin

“You look divine like this—ruined, tied up, crying for me.” “So messy… so mine.” “Give yourself to me, sweetheart. All of you. I’ll handle the rest.” “Such a beautiful little slut.”

💌 AFTERCARE

A ritual. He unties every knot with purpose. Massages every mark he left. Cleans you slowly, lovingly. Holds your face in his palms like it’s priceless.

“You did so well. Still so beautiful. Let me take care of you now.”

He doesn’t detach after scenes—he sinks deeper into you. His care is soft, sensual, and sacred.

Han // 한

Switchy Dom | Brat | Exhibitionist | Degrader with a Praise Problem Core Archetype: Chaos Dom ⟡ Hyperverbal Power Bottom Energy ⟡ Clingy Corruptor Vibe: “You’re my dumb little slut… and my favorite person in the world.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Degradation kink — “Say it. Say what you are. Louder.” He calls you a cumslut while moaning like it’s a compliment.

Praise kink (panic edition) — Five seconds later: “Wait no you’re literally perfect and I love you.” The filth is real. The feelings? Also real.

Exhibitionism / public risk — Fingers under the table. Whispering filth in your ear during dinner. Gets hard watching you squirm in public.

Mutual corruption kink — He wants you just as desperate as him. Wants to make you a mess, and get ruined by you. You fall together.

Spit kink / facefucking — Obscene. Unhinged. Will make you gag and then kiss your forehead.

Hand-over-mouth kink — To tease you. To control you. To hear your muffled whimpers while he whispers: “Shhh… someone might hear.”

🔗 DOM STYLE

Filthy, clingy, unpredictable — He doms with both chaos and heart. You might get ruined with words, then cuddled like he missed you all day.

Talks. So. Much. — Teases, degrades, praises, begs while inside you. His voice is constant—like a vibrator in word form.

Emotionally devastating possession — He’ll say, “You’re mine,” like a command—then nuzzle into your neck like a lost puppy.

💦 FILTHY FAVORITES

Positions: Face down, ass up, his hand over your mouth while he moans how tight you are. On his lap, while he whispers filth into your ear in public. Spread out on his bed while he talks you through your own breakdown.

Dirty talk level: 10/10 – Unholy Scriptures

“You like being my little fucktoy, huh? Can’t even think straight without me.” “So messy, so needy—god, I love you like this.” “You wanna be my dumb little slut forever? I’ll keep you right here. Ruined and dripping.” “Mine. All mine. Say it again.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Clingy. Emotional. Sticky with love. He wraps around you like a koala, kisses your cheeks, and mumbles shit like, “You still like me, right?” while brushing your hair back.

“You were so good. So, so good. Still want me to hold you?”

And he will. For hours.

Felix // 필릭스

Soft Dom | Caregiver | Sensual Primal (Dom) | Service Top Core Archetype: Angelic Dominant ⟡ Velvet Daddy ⟡ Praise-Filled Overstimulation Addict Vibe: “You’re so good for me, baby. Let me ruin you gently.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Praise kink (religious tier) — “You’re perfect, baby. So good. So beautiful.” He says it like he means it. Because he does.

Overstimulation kink — He doesn’t stop until you’re shaking. Then he kisses you and coos, “One more for me, sweetheart.”

Breeding kink (lowkey feral) — You think he’s soft until he growls, “Gotta fill you up, yeah? Want it dripping out of you.” Cue the whiplash.

Sensory control — Blindfolds, cockwarming, silk ribbons. He knows what your body responds to—and he uses it until you’re sobbing.

Touch obsession — Always holding you. Always. Hand on your waist, fingers on your neck, lips on your shoulder. Even when he’s pounding you? He’s still gentle with his hands.

Cockwarming + thigh riding — Wants to feel you constantly. Will murmur, “Just sit on it, love. Stay still. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

🔗 DOM STYLE

Soft-spoken, full control — He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t need to. His words go straight to your core.

Emotional domming — You cry? He gets harder. Not from your tears—but from how much trust it takes to let him see them.

Velvet-daddy energy™ — He might not say it—but you feel it when he calls you his, edges you for hours, and kisses your forehead after he ruins you.

💦 FILTHY FAVORITES

Positions: Riding his thigh while he whispers, “You can cum just like this, can’t you, love?” / On your back, blindfolded, arms tied in silk, as he fucks you slow and praises every sound you make.

Dirty talk level: 8.5/10 – Degrading Devotion with Angelic Edge

“So good for me, baby. Look how beautiful you are like this.” “You can take more, can’t you? Just one more. Be good for me.” “Mine. Every part of you. Say it.” “Want me to fill you up? Hm? That’s it, pretty thing��beg for it.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Unmatched. Cuddles you into his chest, wraps you in his hoodie, brushes the hair off your damp face, and murmurs endless praise into your skin.

“You did so well. So, so well for me.” “I’ve got you now, angel. Just breathe.”

He makes you feel not just safe—but wanted, in every possible way.

Seungmin // 승민

Hard Dom | Degrader | Master/Mistress | Brat Punisher | Emotional Sadist Core Archetype: Calculated Cold Dom ⟡ Verbal Sadist ⟡ Reluctant Caregiver with Control Issues Vibe: “You wanted this. Don’t start crying now.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Verbal humiliation — “Pathetic.” / “You think you deserve to be touched?” / “Keep moaning like that and maybe I’ll consider letting you cum.” He speaks like a knife. And he means it.

Orgasm denial + punishment — You came without permission? He edges you until you're begging, shaking, sobbing—and still doesn’t touch you.

Face slapping (light but sharp) — Not about pain—about control. “Focus. You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Degradation kink — He’ll call you a toy. A whore. A mess. And he’ll say it like it’s your title.

Control kink (extreme) — You don’t get to speak unless he says. You don’t get to breathe fast unless he allows it. This isn’t just domination—it’s discipline.

Emotional sadism — He wants you ruined and grateful for it. “Say thank you,” he’ll mutter after he breaks you. And you will.

🔗 DOM STYLE

Cold and calculated — He’s not chaotic. He’s methodical. He watches your reactions like data and uses them to push you further.

Power-obsessed — Not for ego—for structure. He needs to control the scene, your pleasure, your thoughts. It’s how he stays sane.

Emotionally detached… until he’s not — He acts like it’s just sex. Just dominance. But his hands never falter during aftercare, and the look in his eyes when you're falling asleep? That’s not nothing.

💦 FILTHY FAVORITES

Positions: Forced to kneel. Bent over with your hands tied behind your back. Restrained and denied until you sob.

Dirty talk level: 10/10 – Unholy Scriptures (Ice Edition)

“You’re lucky I even want you like this.” “Keep whining. That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it?” “Say you’re my toy. Say it, or you don’t get to cum.” “Beg properly. Or we start over.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Soft. Devastatingly so. He doesn’t speak much—just pulls you into his chest, covers you with the blanket (burrito style), and holds you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. He’ll clean you up with quiet, precise movements, kiss the inside of your wrist like it’s instinct, and whisper only when he thinks you’re asleep:

“You did well. I’m proud of you.” And if you stir? He clears his throat and says, “Go to sleep. I’ll be right here.” Because he will. He always is.

I.n // 아이엔

Soft-Spoken Power Dom | Sadistic Tease | Brat Tamer | Control Obsessed Core Archetype: Gentleman Sadist ⟡ Corruptor-in-Chief ⟡ Angel-Faced Devil Dom Vibe: “You can’t handle me. But I’m going to give it to you anyway.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Corruption kink — He lives for your firsts. First moan, first sob, first orgasm wrecked by him. “You’ve never done this before? Good. I’ll ruin you nicely.”

Brat taming (quiet but lethal) — You mouth off? He just smirks. Next thing you know, you’re tied down and begging. He doesn’t yell—he calculates.

Control kink (total) — He doesn’t just dominate—you become his choreography. Every angle, every movement, his choice.

Mocking degradation + obsession — “Look at you. Trying so hard to be good. It’s cute.” All said while kissing the tears off your cheeks.

Fear kink (light) — Not true fear—just that breath-catching, wide-eyed, holy-shit-what-did-he-just-say look he gets off on.

Chin-gripping + eye contact — He forces you to meet his eyes. "Don’t look away. I want to see every second of you breaking."

🔗 DOM STYLE

Silk-gloved sadism — He speaks soft. Touches slow. But everything he does is designed to destroy you. And you let him.

Emotionally loaded power play — He doesn’t say he loves you during scenes—but he looks at you like you’re sacred. And wrecks you like he can’t stand how much he cares.

Master of pacing — He can stretch one orgasm over an hour. And make you thank him for it.

💦 FILTHY FAVORITES

Positions: On your knees, chin tipped up by his fingers. Tied open on the bed as he circles like a predator. Bent over while he whispers filth directly into your ear.

Dirty talk level: 9.5/10 – Velvet Ruin with Sadistic Edge

“What’s wrong? You were so confident earlier.” “Keep shaking. It makes you feel tighter.” “You look beautiful like this—ruined, teary, mine.” “I don’t care if you beg. You don’t cum until I say.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Gentle. Reverent. Almost too tender—like he’s trying to make up for what he did to you. He wraps you in his arms, brushes your hair from your face, presses soft kisses to your skin. But he never apologizes.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you now.” His voice is the same one that destroyed you—except now it soothes. And somehow, that makes it even more dangerous.

[tender-rosiey]

lock jaw — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: when I said silence, I meant it literally btw <3

it starts the way it always does—with him talking.

satoru loves to talk. he thrives on it, really.

his voice fills every space he enters, a mix of cocky and teasing remarks, words tumbling out of him like they were just waiting for an audience.

he has no problem being that audience himself, either, monologuing even when no one’s listening.

and right now? right now, he’s very much talking at you.

“—so obviously, I had to step in, because nanamin was totally going about it the wrong way, y’know? I mean, the guy’s got skill, sure, but zero flare. no pizzazz. no—hey, are you even listening?”

you are. technically. but you don’t give him the satisfaction of confirming it.

instead, you tilt your head up at him, one brow raised in that way that always makes his grin twitch wider.

satoru doesn’t like being ignored. that’s why you do it.

and, sure enough, he scoffs. “oh, I see how it is. you think you’re cute, huh?”

you hum, noncommittal.

his fingers drum against the table, restless energy leaking into movement. “it’s a good thing you’re married to me, ‘cause—”

you lift a hand.

it’s not much. just a simple flick of your wrist.

the moment your fingers move, his words catch, cut off like someone pressed pause on a song mid-verse. his mouth is still open, brows furrowed like he can’t quite believe it.

oh, but he believes it.

your technique has always been a thorn in his side. you don’t know what makes it work, just that it does.

no one else can silence him like this—literally silence him, rendering every word, every noise, completely null the second you decide you’ve had enough.

it drives him insane.

you let a few beats of silence pass before you drop your hand. his voice snaps back into existence, mid-word.

“—ain’t no way you just did that again,” he grumbles, like this is somehow the first time.

his mouth pulls into a pout, the corners twitching with the threat of a smirk. “y’know, most wives enjoy hearing their husband talk.”

“I do,” you say, because it’s true.

satoru leans in, one hand propped beneath his chin. “so? why do you keep shutting me up, then?”

you lift your fingers again, just slightly, and watch the way his whole body stiffens in response. he goes silent before you even activate it, eyes narrowing.

“I swear—”

your fingers twitch.

nothing.

his mouth slams shut anyway, like muscle memory has kicked in. his whole face scrunches up, torn between irritation and reluctant amusement.

it takes him a second to realize you never actually used your technique, and when he does, his eye twitches.

“oh, you suck.”

you smile. “I know.”

satoru groans, dragging a hand down his face. “how’d I get stuck with you?”

you just hum, pretending to think. “bad luck?”

he snorts.

and just like that, whatever annoyance he was pretending to have dissolves into something else—something warmer. his head tilts, his voice dropping into that low, teasing hum. “or maybe good luck.”

you don’t let yourself react, but a wave of warmth rushes through you anyway. his eyes gleam behind his glasses, sharp and knowing. he feels it, too.

it’s always been like this with satoru—this push and pull, this game of who can get under whose skin first. he hates being shut up. but he loves being shut up by you.

that’s probably why he keeps trying.

the next time he catches you alone, it’s in the kitchen.

you’re getting water, half-distracted, when arms loop around your waist from behind, a chin dropping onto your shoulder.

“whatcha doin’?”

“getting water,” you deadpan.

“oooh. riveting.” his arms tighten just slightly, like he’s trying to keep you there. “y’know, I was thinking.”

“that’s new.”

satoru gasps, scandalized. “rude!”

he nuzzles closer, all dramatic offense and fake hurt. “as I was saying—I was thinking about how unfair it is that you get to shut me up whenever you want, but I can’t do the same to you.”

you sip your water, unimpressed. “sounds like a you problem.”

“exactly! and since we’re married, your problems are my problems—so really, we should fix this together.”

you know where this is going. you don’t like where it’s going.

“…no.”

“but I didn’t even—”

“no.”

his arms squeeze tighter, his voice dropping into that saccharine lilt. “c’mooon. just one little pact—no more silencing me, and in return…”

“in return what?” you ask, humoring him.

“in return, I’ll—uh—” he pauses. “I’ll try not to annoy you as much?”

you turn your head just enough to squint at him. “you could just not annoy me in the first place.”

“pfft. impossible.”

you roll your eyes, setting your glass down. “then no deal.”

satoru pouts. “you’re no fun.”

“I’m plenty fun.”

“not to me.”

you lift a hand.

his mouth clamps shut instantly.

“…I hate you.”

you drop your hand. “no, you don’t.”

his pout deepens. “no, I don’t.”

and because he’s satoru—because he’s infuriating—he suddenly dips forward and presses a kiss to your cheek.

it’s quick, but deliberate, with his lips lingering just enough to tease you. by the time you turn to scold him, he’s already slipping away, whistling like nothing happened.

the sneaking doesn’t stop.

if anything, it gets worse.

he tests you in public now, dropping snarky comments just to see if you’ll silence him mid-sentence.

he tries to get the upper hand, too—kissing you without warning, murmuring things low enough that only you can hear, things designed to throw you off balance.

and it works. sometimes.

but the thing about satoru? he talks a lot.

he always has.

and that’s exactly why you win.

it happens in front of his students.

which, really, is something he should’ve seen coming.

you’re standing off to the side, arms crossed, watching as megumi practices his stance. nobara is stretching. yuji is bouncing on his feet like he’s ready to fight someone on the spot.

it’s peaceful. quiet.

and, naturally, satoru can’t have that.

he claps his hands together. “alright, kiddos! who’s ready for an essential, life-changing lesson?”

yuji perks up immediately. “ooh, what kinda lesson?”

“the most important kind,” satoru declares, straightening his posture like he’s about to reveal the secrets of the universe. “a lesson in style.”

megumi exhales sharply. nobara groans. you don’t even have to look to know they’re both already tuning him out.

but he’s not done.

“you may think you know fashion, but you don’t. not like me. there are levels to this—depths of drip, if you will—like an expertly curated wardrobe of absolute perfection.”

he gestures grandly to himself. “and lucky for you, I am both your teacher and your fashion icon.”

nobara shoots you a look. “this is every day for you, isn’t it?”

“unfortunately.”

satoru hears it. of course, he hears it.

he places a hand over his chest like you’ve wounded him. “unfortunately?” he echoes, all faux devastation. “sweetheart, you wound me.”

yuji chokes on a laugh. “wow, sensei. that was fast.”

“you don’t get it, yuji.” satoru points at you, sunglasses slipping down his nose.

“this woman right here? my beloved, my precious, my better half? she is cruel.” he sighs, tilting his head dramatically.

“every day, she shuts me up without a second thought. do you know how unfair that is? the strongest sorcerer in the world, silenced—just like that.”

megumi, who has absolutely witnessed this before, doesn’t even look up. “sounds like you deserve it.”

satoru gasps. “et tu, megumi?”

“yeah,” megumi deadpans. “et me.”

satoru clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “see? this is what I deal with. betrayal. disrespect. my own wife using her technique against me at every turn.”

yuji raises a hand. “wait, wait—so she actually can shut you up?”

“oh, she can,” satoru grumbles. “and she does.”

nobara perks up, eyes gleaming. “no way. prove it.”

satoru freezes.

you see the exact moment realization dawns on him—what he’s just done, the challenge he’s issued on your behalf.

you see it in the way his jaw shifts, the way his weight shifts ever so slightly on his heels.

you raise a brow. “you want me to prove it?”

satoru narrows his eyes. “don’t you dare.”

you lift your hand.

“don’t you—”

silence.

satoru’s mouth is still open, but no sound comes out. nothing. not even the beginnings of a protest. his lips move, forming words you can’t hear, before he snaps his mouth shut entirely.

the silence stretches.

then—

“oh my god,” nobara breathes.

yuji loses his mind.

megumi simply nods. “good.”

satoru’s eye twitches. he points at you, accusing, but there’s nothing he can do. you smile sweetly.

after a long beat, you drop your hand.

“—believe you just did that in front of my students,” he huffs, voice returning in the middle of a sentence.

his sunglasses slide down his nose, revealing wide, scandalized eyes. “my own wife, betraying me in front of my kids.”

“they asked me to.”

“yeah,” nobara pipes up. “that was amazing. do it again.”

satoru splutters. “hey! whose side are you on?”

yuji is grinning. “I mean, sensei, that was kinda cool.”

“it was humiliating!”

“you deserved it.”

“I did not!”

you hum, faux thoughtful. “you kinda did.”

satoru stares at you, horrified. “et tu, my love?”

“yeah.” you smirk. “et me.”

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do not copy or plagiarize or i throw cat hair on your black clothes

check out my buy me a coffee!

[kurokawaia]

hii for ur 3k event could i request bakugou with degrading, baby trapping and size kink pls!! ^_^

Bakugou is slightly Oc here! MDNI / 18+ / Aged up! / TW/CW: Timeskip! Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader, Degradation, baby trapping, size kink, unprotected sex + more / DRABBLE /

3k Event | Master list

If Bakugou looks forward to anything at the end of his hard-working day as a hero, it would definitely be coming back to his wife. His wife who provides for him back home, loving how you always make sure everything is clean, having food prepared for him, doing the washing and all of that. On top of that, your small, so small compared to his massive figure and he loves it.

God, you're so easy to manhandle in bed that he loses it.

He fantasises about it all the time (even though he does it every night to you...) how very very blatant the size difference is and makes it quite obvious when you come to see him when he's working. This includes ruffling your hair, leaning down to you and overexaggerating the action of course and so much more.

Everyone is baffled, you basically jump around him and when they see Bakugou, a big, tall, muscular man who could pummel you to the floor with ease is makes them wonder how your relationship works, by that, they mean in bed.  

And it'll be explained now. There is not a time where you aren't completely engulfed in Bakugou's size, rendering you from any sort of form to move. As he pounds into your dripping pussy at a speed that makes your brain go fuzzy.

Every night the same words leave his mouth, along with the same actions. Filling you up until you can't take a step without clenching your thighs together, making sure that his cum stays tucked up in your womb. There's a chance you could already be pregnant, but Bakugou doesn't care, all he wishes is for you stomach to swell with his child, ensuring that there is no running from this relationship, not that you ever would. 

"Shit- That's it," Bakugou says, letting out a deep moan that made your insides churn with pleasure. "Take it like a good little slut, princess."

"Kats," you whimper, not knowing how to handle the over whelming pleasure taking over your body, you still can't get used to how over whelmed he makes you feel and it's been years.

A sharp thrust of his hips causes you to let out a yelp as you claw at his back, leaving scratch makes all down his back as he constantly fills you up. Good thing it's winter and he has to wear his long sleeve shirt while working... "Shhh," he coos, relishing in how tight you keep sucking him in, like your asking to be having his baby. "Fuck, there you go, such a slut."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

[littlcdarlin]

surprising dbf!Joel with lingerie

warnings: big girthy age gap (unspecified), Joel puts his hand on her throat (no choking), teasing Joel in public, Joel Miller rendered useless by a bit of lace, reader is sort of innocent

note: Can you tell I bought new underwear yesterday? It's crazy how much more confident I feel in it, I just needed to write this. Enjoy, my loves <3

Joel always insists he loves you in your cotton panties, he says nothing is sexier to him than you in your usual underwear

He won’t let you spend your money on expensive lingerie (‘don’t go wastin’ your money on me, sweetheart, I enjoy myself just fine. Sides, ‘s ‘bout gettin’ you out of your panties anyway’) and won't buy you anything himself because that can’t be comfortable, ‘s barely even a string

One night he fucks you in your white cotton bra dotted in cherries, your cheeks warming when you realise you wore your ‘bad’ underwear, and although he sure doesn’t seem to mind, you make a mental note to buy at least one set of hot underwear

So you go on an online shopping spree, picking what your imagine Joel will like the most — nothing too darkly sexy, but rather lots of lace, light and girly colors, cuts that are revealing in a teasing way, that leave enough to the imagination for you to be able to hear Joel’s groan in your ear already

You keep more than just one set, and when you put on a white lace thong and bra, you feel incredibly sexy. It's not too forward for you, teasing and still strangely innocent despite your nipples showing through the thin fabric of your bra and your whole ass being visible. It feels naughty to put on your usual clothes over it

Joel’s eyes are glued to your shoulder during a neighbourhood barbecue when he sees some lace peeking out under your shoulder strap — you adjust your shirt and he drinks his beer quietly, holding your gaze, brows slightly furrowed

Should’ve asked me before buying that yourself, sweetheart, I would’ve gotten it for you, he tells you when you have a quiet moment away from the rest of the neighbours. You can tell he feels guilty for you using your own money, he usually gets you anything you just vaguely mention you’d like

So you tell him you wanted it to be a surprise, a little disappointed he already knows you’re all dressed up for him under your jeans and top, but for the rest of the afternoon his eyes don’t leave your shoulders and you think that maybe the anticipation makes it even more fun

You start to play with him, subtly move your shirt so that the lacy strap is visible. When you go to the bathroom, you adjust your jeans so that the little bow at the front of your new thong peeks out just barely

Joel’s useless when he spots it, he excuses himself from a conversation with your Dad to go to the bathroom, and you think you’re not the only one adjusting your jeans in there

When everyone’s going home and he’s sure it won’t rouse suspicion, you get a text from Joel: my place, 5 minutes. Don’t change

You make up some lame excuse about sleeping at a friend’s place, and leave your parents to it. Joel’s house is only a few minutes away, and as soon as you unlock his door with the key he gave you, he’s in front of you, all 6’3 feet of him

He doesn't even look at your face, his eyes glued to the bit of white lace peeking out from under your shirt, and with any other man it would make you roll your eyes, but something about Joel not functioning the way he usually would makes you excited

Before you can say hello, he starts toying with the the shoulder strap of your top, moving it to the side, his thumb sliding under the lace, tugging at it, his other hand resting heavily on your shoulder and caressing the side of your neck

Already you can feel heat in the pit of your stomach at Joel's quiet admiration, and when he mutters Jesus fuckin' Christ, you clench around nothing and lean up to kiss him, his mouth insistent and impatient on yours. You feel wanted, needed, when Joel leads you to the living room without breaking the kiss, one hand gently wrapping around your throat to stir you in the right direction while you're rendered useless by his mouth

Joel breaks away when you're almost at his couch, wanna look at you, angel, and starts lifting your top for you. All of a sudden you feel nervous he won't like what you picked, that he's a practical man through and through and really does prefer you in your comfy cotton underwear, but his eyes widen and you think he stops breathing for a second when your bra is revealed

He drops your shirt to the floor, and drags his hands over your skin, taking in your tits, which are barely covered by transparent, white lace. His thumb moves over your nipple, and an involuntary whine escapes you, the sensation of his touch over the fabric intense

Fuck, you're gonna kill me, babygirl. Did this for me? His voice is strained, like he's keeping himself from ripping your bra off your body and you know if you were to reach down, you'd find him fully hard. You want him to see your thong before things get too heated, though, so you smile up at him, press a sweet kiss to his throat

Wanted to look nice for you. His fingers are still toying with the fabric of your bra, constantly moving over your body

Always look nice, baby, but this is...shit, I need to fuck you in it.

You pop open the button of your jeans, and Joel's eyes snap towards your crotch, his bulge right in front of it, when you drag the zipper down. His hands are on your hips in a second, helping you drag your jeans down

You shaved for Joel, and your new skimpy little panties barely cover anything. What little fabric there is, is already soaked, just from Joel looking at you all hungry

Again, Joel traces the fabric with his fingers, mapping it out on your body, and when he realizes just how wet you are for him, he presses down on your clit, rubbing tight circles with two fingers

Although it pains you, you gasp wait, and he stops, lets you step out of your jeans, only in your underwear now. You take a step back and smile, letting Joel take you in completely

Spin for me, babygirl, he orders and you obey immediately. You hear him curse when he sees the fabric of your panties practically disappearing between your asscheeks, and you've never felt so sexy

When you're facing him again, he squeezes your ass with one hand, and teases your clit with the other once again. Gonna make you come in these before I fuck you in 'em

It doesn't take you long at all, Joel praising you, calling you his good girl, holding you up, before nudging you towards the couch and laying you down on it

He just drags your panties to the side, slips two thick fingers into you, impatiently preparing you for his cock, which is still straining against his jeans

Something about dressing up in lingerie for Joel while he's fully clothed makes you positively ache. It makes the difference in age more prominent – Joel, a greying contractor wearing what he probably wore thirty years ago, and you, his pretty, young, soft babygirl

The contrast is exhilarating – lace against flannel, naked skin against rough denim, gruff groans mixed with soft whines

When Joel slides into you, the stretch is familiar, and you sigh at the feeling. Been waiting for it all day, you whisper, wanted you so bad at the barbecue

It makes Joel curse, fuck into you with more force, shit, baby, y'look so pretty for me

He fucks you deeply, eyes constantly on your bra or panties, watching his hands toy with your nipples, or his cock disappear inside of you, sliding against the thin fabric of your thong

It doesn't take either of you long to come, Joel forcing his cock all the way inside and holding it there while he spurts rope after rope of cum inside of you. You tremble around him, clench and unclench, dragging every last drop from him

Afterwards, he lets you lie on top of him the way you like, strokes your skin, toys with your bra strap and waistband, presses soft kisses into your hair

I've got a light pink set, too, you tell him and yawn, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, and smiling when you feel his spent cock twitch against you. I'll wear that to the next family dinner you're invited to.

Joel swats your ass lightly, and you laugh, feel his own chuckle rumble in his chest. You're gonna kill me, angel. Old man like me, I'll have a stroke.

You rest like this for a while, quiet, enjoying each other's warmth, but after a while Joel's lips caress the shell of your ear, his voice making goosebumps appear all over your skin when he speaks

You know y'don't gotta shave for me or put on something fancy, though, right? You tell him you do, that you just wanted to surprise him, give him something special because of how special he always treats you

I ain't complainin', baby, just don't want you thinkin' I don't love you just as much in those little cherry panties of yours.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Joaquin is trying really hard not to laugh as you lean all your weight into him as he opens your front door.

“You said we were going home Joaquin.”

He chuckles then, “We are home,” he wraps an arm behind him to hold onto your waist as he pushes open the door.

He needs to change that hinge.

“But this is my apartment, I wanted to sleep in your bed.” Your voice catches as you speak. Joaquin can tell tears are near.

He shakes his head, amusement lighting his face as he sets the keys in the dish near the door and sits you on the sofa.

“Amor,” he presses a kiss into your knee, spotting a bruise from the bar that he’s not sure how you got. “We live together.”

Joaquin’s hands are quick as they free your feet from your heels.

A quiet, “Oh,” leaves you at his words.

His hands massage the arches of your feet, chuckling a little when you squirm.

“Want some water?” You shake your head, cheek pressed into the back of the couch as you look down at him.

“Want a kiss,” he sits up and kisses your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. “A real kiss.” You whine and Joaquin laughs now, right in your face.

His forehead touches your chin, “We’re going to bed, nena. Just to bed.” But he lifts his head and gets a glimpse of your puppy dog eyes and he indulges in a quick peck to your lips.

You grumble, “Not being fair.” But Joaquin pretends he doesn’t hear you as he lifts you off the couch.

Joaquin carries you all the way to the bathroom, pushing your hair back with a headband he’s seen you use many times.

He has to remove your hands from neck twice when you pull him flush to your chest, trapping him against you.

“Baby,” he laughs, hugging you back before pulling away a little. You’re pouting at him severely. Joaquin already knows what you want from him.

“Just one.” You plead and he sighs.

He’s not really great at denying you, and presses his lips against yours.

Your lips move lazily and they lack a little coordination, but Joaquin makes it work. One hand cups your cheek, stabilizing you against him.

When he pulls away your lips are a little swollen and glossy.

“Better?” He asks and you nod, a happy smile on your face as you sit still again for him to finish going through your skincare.

His fingers are gentle as they scrub your eyes and face. Circular motions lulling you to sleep.

“You falling asleep on me?” He whispers and you shake your head, all slow and heavy like your head’s weighing your movements down.

“Wanna sleep with you.”

His eyebrows raise, “Oh yeah?”

You open your eyes and Joaquin gets lost in them for a moment. They’re intense pools to stare into and sometimes he wishes he were an artist, so he could render their depth.

“Yeah, we can do it naked.”

He laughs again, kissing your forehead. “As long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

Joaquin doesn’t let you sleep naked, instead you’re wearing one of his old Air Force t-shirts and underwear.

You cuddle up next to him, a vice-like grip on him as he lays beside you. You fall asleep before he even says goodnight.

[science-hoes]

Baby

Michael Robinavitch x Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, breeding kink, slight mirror sex

Description: A text from Robby turns into a heavy request at work.

Michael Robinavitch Masterlist

--

Every now and then, Robby texted you to meet him for coffee while the Pitt was suspiciously calm. Sometimes, he came to your office for a quick kiss and snatched one of the candies from the jar on your desk. But this was a little different.

Meet me in call room 3 in about 10 minutes.

So you finished up the note you were scribing in a patient’s chart and headed downstairs. You entered the on-call room slowly, peeking in to make sure nobody was occupying it. When you found it empty, you stepped in and shut the door behind you. The room had a twin-sized bed, a bedside table with a lamp, and a full-length mirror. You’ve spent many nights in one of these rooms, usually when a blizzard crosses Pennsylvania, rendering it dangerous to travel home. You sat on the edge of the bed, switching the lamp on to bring some warm light into the dark room.

The door creaked open, and Robby carefully slid through before closing it again. “Hey, stranger.” He whispered. He didn’t make his way over to you like you had expected him to.

You smiled and tilted your head. “Hey. Why are we in here?” You asked, not sure of what he had in mind.

Robby stood tall in front of the door, nearly rivaling its height. His gold chain glimmered in the low light of the room as he shifted his weight on his feet. It wasn’t like him to be so quiet or so…timid? His eyes moved from you to the ground.

You furrowed your brow and stood to meet him. “Baby, are you okay?” You asked, reaching your hands to the collar of his worn hoodie.

Robby just nodded, but you could see on his face that the gears in his brain were turning. Like he was actively planning what to say. You rubbed soothing circles on his broad chest, something you did whenever he had a panic attack or trouble speaking. After what seemed like hours, he broke the silence.

“Do you want to have my baby?”

Your hand froze in place on his chest. The wind was knocked out of you. All you could do was stare at your boyfriend in the low glow of the room and blink. You and Robby had been dating for a year and a half. In secret. Nobody within the hospital, especially the administration, knew about it. And he wanted to have a baby? The most public thing a couple could do aside from a big white wedding? Sure, you had come to terms with the fact that you were dating an older man who may be past that point in his life. But even though you wanted it deep down, you never expected him to bring it up. You always assumed it would be a happy accident and-

“I’m not going to ask you again.” Robby’s voice cut through the silence, and you couldn’t quite place the tone.

You took in a breath, realizing you had been holding it this entire time. “You want a baby?” Was all you could whisper.

Robby nodded and scratched the back of his neck, his nervous tick. “I’ve been…thinking about it. For a while now. But I just didn’t know how to say it.” He explained, looking away from your eyes. “We had a patient this morning who was…of my century.” He began, and the edges of your lips curled into a small grin at his storytelling. “He had his wife and two young daughters with him. He kept thanking me over and over because we saved his life. He kept talking about how happy he was to have his daughters, even that late in his life. And…”

You tilted your head so that your eyes met his line of vision. “And?”

He reached up and grasped your hand that still rested on his chest. “And I want that with you. I want to have a family with you, I want to watch our kids go off to college. If I wait any longer, I might not be able to see them go to high school.” He continued. 

You felt tears prick your eyes as he spoke. You squeezed his hand tightly and let out a breathy laugh. “I want that, too.” You whispered.

Robby smiled slowly, and you could see the tears welling up in his eyes. “You do?” He asked.

You grinned and placed your hands on either side of his face. “Yes, Robby. Michael. I really want it.” You assured him, and the tears fell down your cheeks.

Robby grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in close for a kiss. Your hands slid to his peppered hair, pulling him even closer. The kiss was firm and passionate but quickly progressed to one of need. Robby shoved your white coat off your shoulders and tossed it to the bed. You pulled away slightly to laugh at him. 

“Oh, are we doing this now?” You teased.

Robby grinned and unzipped his hoodie, giving it the same fate as your white coat. “Oh, absolutely.” He said before pulling you back in.

He left hot, wet kisses on your mouth that slowly trailed down your neck, dragging his teeth along your soft skin. You felt your skin prickle and shoved your hands under his scrub top, running your fingers across his decently toned abdomen. His hands moved to your ass, and he tapped the back of your thigh, signaling you to jump up. You grabbed his neck and hopped to wrap your legs around his waist. He securely carried you to the bed and laid your body down. He snatched at your scrub bottoms, pulling your panties down with them in one quick motion. While you threw your top off, he removed his.

You pulled him back, relishing the sensation of his burning hot skin on yours. He returned to kissing your lips, your neck, and anything he could get access to while his hand slid down to brush over your core. His fingers barely touched your sopping wet pussy, and he chuckled. “Oh, is all this for me? So I can fuck a baby into you?”

You shuddered at his words and swallowed hard. “Yes.” You managed to say, grasping his shoulders tightly as he teased your entrance.

“Then let’s stretch you out.” He said before shoving one finger into your pussy.

Even that alone made your toes curl and back arch. You shook your head. “No, I want you now.” You pleaded.

Robby shook his head and started playing with your clit with his thumb. “No, love. It takes three before you’re ready. Don’t rush it.” He reminded you.

You squirmed in frustration, wanting more but knowing he was right. He added a second finger, and your walls squeezed around the added diameter. “Robby, please. Please, please let me have you.” You begged.

Robby reached for the drawstrings on his scrub pants and pulled them. “You’re almost there. You’re being such a good girl for me.” He assured.

Your eyes watched his hands pull his pants down and revealed his boxers struggling to suppress his massive cock. You let out a shaky breath as Robby began to tease your slits with the third finger. When it sank in, you squeezed your eyes shut in blissful pain. “Oh, God, Robby. Please.” And you don’t really know what you were begging for this time. Because you knew what was next.

Robby pumped his fingers in and out of your pussy, the squelching sounds filling the otherwise silent room. “I know, I know. You’re almost ready.” He soothed, pressing a kiss against your temple.

The sweat was already beading at your neck. You reached for the outline of his cock in his boxers and wrapped your hand around what you could. Robby let out a hiss as you slowly rubbed the fabric, creating a friction that he was craving. He finally picked you up with his free arm and sat you down in his lap, back to his chest. He shoved his boxers down and spit on his hand, rubbing the saliva on his own cock for extra lubricant.

Your head fell back against his shoulder as he continued to finger you, letting out pitiful sounds of frustration. Robby kissed your shoulder and reached for your face. He adjusted your head to look straight at the wall. In front of you was the full length mirror that came with every on-call room. You were met with the reflection of Robby fingering you open, with his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

“You’re gonna watch while I fuck this baby in you. You understand?” He growled low in your ear.

You shuddered and nodded. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

You swallowed hard, trying to adjust to his three fingers pumping in and out of you. “Yes sir.” You breathed.

And with your answer, Robby replaced his fingers with his cock. He slowly pushed into you, one hand on your lower stomach as he did. You just knew he could feel himself pushing deeper and deeper until he maxed out. Tears fell from your eyes as he stretched you open. 

“Fuck, baby.” You hissed.

Robby didn’t move, and let you adjust to his length. He brushed the hair out of your eyes and peppered kisses along your cheek and neck. “Shhh…you’re doing so good, love. It’s almost over.” He whispered.

Your hands reached back behind you, grasping the back of his neck. The pain began to slowly neutralize, and your labored breaths were more steady. You gave him a small nod to keep going. Robby grabbed your hips and slowly pulled out, releasing the tension in your pussy, just to slam back in ruthlessly. If you had been at home, you would have screamed bloody murder, but all you could do was bite into your bottom lip. Robby repeated his motions, slowly out, pounding back in, creating a steadily faster rhythm. 

Your eyes fluttered open, and the sight in the mirror was too much. Robby fucking you relentlessly, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, the glint from his gold chain glaring off the reflection. You grabbed his biceps and squeezed tightly. “Robby, I-” You tried to say. “I’m gonna come.” 

Robby let out a breathy laugh, maintaining his bruising pace. “That’s right, love. Come for me.” He whispered.

You felt the white hot burning in your stomach explode across your body, walls pulsating around his cock and lubricating even more. Robby continued to whisper a string of praises as you went limp in his arms. He held you up, continuing to pound into you at the same unrelenting pace, but you could tell that he was beginning to falter. With a few more thrusts, he emptied himself into your pussy, grunting as he did. You could feel each rope of cum burst inside you as he finished, and you felt a new excitement in your chest that you never had before.

When Robby was able to catch his breath, he turned your face to kiss your lips gently. “I hope you have a few more minutes before your next appointment.” He said. “Because we’re gonna sit here until I know you’re pregnant.”

[blackkatdraws2]

[ORV] For Han Myungoh, it was probably scary seeing his child's body looking at him but knowing there was another person inhabiting it and not her.

I always feel wistful that their experiences had been kept so vague, but tbh that's also the reason why it's so much fun thinking about the possibilities of what could have happened to them, what they've been though, or how they went about dealing with it.

When the scenarios were over, does Han Myungoh ever just stare at his daughter for a long time just to make sure that she was herself again and not still Asmodeus? Maybe he gives her hugs a lot. He says it's because he loves her lots and lots, but Han Dareum feels her daddy's body shaking more often than not whenever he does it.

The anxiety and fear of the uncertainty, but still having to hide and keep up the front of being okay so Han Dareum, his little darling girl, wouldn't have to worry about him again.

Does Han Dareum remember anything? Or did her mind regression render her unable to recount the trauma that happened to the both of them? So many things to think about

Han Dareum is probably used to seeing her dad kill things. Kill people. A human/demon girl born and raised in a world that's falling into chaos for the entertainment of the stars watching them above is bound to have a mind that doesn't understand the concept of what "normal" was like before the apocalypse.

Rather than being afraid of murderers or bloody scenarios, she'll probably feel more fear with being separated from her daddy or something.