#swapping bodies... holding hands... being sweet...

[yourangle-yuordevil]

Our side ❤️

[innerfare]

Nudes - Part 1

Summary: Their favorite nude photo of you.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // nudes (obv), oral sex, light food play with Luffy, unprotected sex with Daddy Zoro, and light cum play with Ace

——— 

Luffy: 

Your naked body with whipped cream is Luffy’s wet dream boat, and the best gift he ever received was a pair of photographs featuring just that. In one of them, you posed with the sweet white substance smeared across your naked chest, all messy and in desperate need of being licked up. And the second, you had a neat trail of it in the shape of a heart just above your naked cunt, ripe for the taking. Needless to say, you had to recreate this little photoshoot with Luffy as soon as he laid eyes on the photographs. 

Zoro: 

He’s an ass man who’s obsessed with creampies, and his absolute favorite snapshot of you is from behind, your pussy flushed and swollen from him pounding into it, his cum dripping out of your little hole, and that pink, heart-shaped plug in your ass. The sight of it makes him salivate, and he usually ends up clutching his cock because the throbbing is actually painful. He’s gotten into many a bar fight after having one too many and pulling it out to stare longingly, only for some creep to gawk over his shoulder at your perfect ass and pussy. 

Sanji: 

You feigned illness one day and waited for the crew to leave you alone aboard the ship before sneaking into the kitchen in your bathrobe and swapping it for Sanji’s apron, snapping a few pictures of yourself wearing it with nothing underneath. One, in particular, turned out quite well, with your tits popping out the top and your hand pulling the bottom half to the side to reveal your naked little slit. That’s the one Sanji keeps in the back of his wallet. 

Ace: 

It’s horrible, really. It’s disgusting. But when he’s away from you, there’s nothing that brings him more pleasure than that photograph he took of you naked on a beach somewhere, his hat on your head and sand in your hair, his cum on your pretty face while you smile up at him and laugh, his hand tilting your chin up. It’s not just how sexy it is, though. You just look so happy, so pretty, and so very his. The photograph serves as a reminder of how much you smile, how happy you get, when he fucks you, and it always leaves him grinning like a fool. 

Sabo: 

He was sitting sprawled on the small sofa in his bedroom, and you were kneeling between his knees, his pretty cock in your hands, your tongue on the head. He had one of his hands tangled in your hair, the other holding the camera. He’d been away for two whole months, and the two of you hadn’t left his room for three full days and nights. It was day two when he took that picture, fresh out of the shower. He’d never seen so many hickies on your skin, had not known just how long the two of you could go until then, and he was determined not to forget. 

Law: 

Law’s a simple man- kinky, but simple. When he found a photograph tucked into his hoodie one day, he didn’t realize what it was at first. There wasn’t a face, just a body, but after a second, he recognized that body. And he recognized the loose t-shirt covering it, sliding off one shoulder and breast, revealing a single pert nipple, a hickey beside it. And the way the hem rode up, he could see you weren’t wearing any panties, though he couldn’t see between your legs with his pillow stuffed between them. The love note scribbled on the back begging him to come home safe only cemented it as one of his most prized possessions. 

Kid: 

He has a couple on the wall in his workshop where anyone could see, though nobody but you, he, and Killer really go in there. By far his favorite one, though, is the first one he ever took, before he even pierced your nipples, before you had even decided to stay on his crew. You were naked on the deck of the Victoria Punk, not posing in a particularly scandalous way, just staring up at the moon while Kid documented your nudity for his own selfish desires. He’d pinned you to the deck and fucked you for the first time after that, and he had a little keepsake from it. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[ghostfacesvalentine]

Princess treatment only - MultiMuse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not many, some mentions of killing, but nothing graphic. Kind of fluffy

Type: HC’s

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Some HC’s as to how the muses would give the reader the princess treatment.

Notes: I don’t know where I was going with this, but this is mainly fluff, maybe sometime I’ll spice it up. I just had to get my writing juice brewing. Not proofread at all just go.

Jason Voorhees: Honestly, would treat you like a princess regardless. Will pick flowers for you when he’s outside. Always lets you borrow his flannels. Always walks in front of you to make sure there’s no danger, but looks back constantly to make sure there’s no danger behind you?? lmao. You won’t ever have to lift a finger when you’re with him. Literally at your beck and call. Will try his best not to kill in front of you, but sometimes it just ?? happens lol. Tries to be soft when touching you because you’re literally the most perfect thing that has ever crossed his path.

Michael Myers: Is your literal bodyguard. Will follow you anywhere and everywhere, you might as well call him your shadow. Lets you hug him and climb onto his lap whenever. Won’t hug you back yet, working on it. Nobody comes near you, no exceptions. Sorry. Stares at you most of the time. Can’t say it, but you’re literally flawless to him. Will use his body as a shield for you. Would kill anything for you. Eventually learns to put his palm against your cheek and that’s his second greatest accomplishment, the first being bagging you, literally and figuratively.

Tiffany Valentine: You won’t ever have to worry about a thing when you’re with her. Always gets her hands dirty for you. Lots of cheek and neck kisses. Praises your looks all the time. She will always brag about you whether it’s what you do, how you look, anything and everything. She would always make sure you have the latest clothes. She’d make sure you always had your staple make up pieces available. When it comes to killing, she’d get creative, that way you guys will never have literal blood on your hands, especially you, never you.

Billy Loomis: Lots of nicknames. Kinda only has a soft spot for you. Can never ever tell you no and stick to it. Won’t hesitate to kill anyone who makes fun of him for this. Drives you everywhere. Ties your shoes. Always makes time for you. Will help you pick out your outfits and tell you which one he likes and which one he doesn’t. Will wear the bracelets you make him. Anything in his closet is yours, help yourself. Always touching you, holding your hand, holding your waist, you’ve infatuated him enough to have him carelessly cover you in soft kisses, laying his head on your shoulder. Kinda creative with dates tbh.

Stu Macher: You will forever be his princess. Will carry you across puddles. Lots of cheek and forehead kisses. Would learn how to paint your nails for you during class. Always makes sure you have a good grade on your exam, whether he has to swap out the papers after class or make sure you get the right answers, you can absolutely count on him. You don’t have to use your brain around him, no worries. Thinks you look adorable in his sweaters, especially oversized. Loves when you sit on his lap. Prioritizes you over anything and everything. Even if you don’t like horror movies, Stu would absolutely find something else for you to watch.

Patrick Bateman: Honestly, when he falls in love with you, it’s princess treatment only. Will give you a skin care routine and help you follow through with it. Kind of makes you feel dumb, but not like a stupid dumb, more like a ‘oh dear sweet baby you are a little dumb but pretty, but dumb, let me help you’ Same thing if you fall asleep with your makeup on, Patricks on the way with the micellar makeup remover. Will speak up for you if you don’t like a service, he won’t be mean about it unless he has to. Always makes sure you’re hydrated (also part of your skin care routine). You will be a housewife/girlfriend. Feel free to splurge, you are his trophy princess after all. Will take you anywhere you want. Will make things up for you if he has to be at work late.

Leatherface: I don’t ever see a scenario where Bubba does not treat his s/o like a princess. It’s like part of the deal. Either way, expect wild flowers all the time. It’s his favorite thing to do for you. He even makes you a vase and makes sure your flowers are always fresh. Will literally die and kill for you without any hesitation. At his knees for you. Bubba will crawl to you across pins and needles if you asked him to. He’s always making sure you’re comfortable and safe, never hungry or in your mind for too long. Melts at your touch. Would learn how to dance just to dance to your favorite songs. Always gets awestruck with you.

Harley Quinn: Will absolutely take you anywhere you want, no matter how random it is. Always dazed when looking at you. Keeps pictures of you all dressed up in her bag or car or wherever she goes. Selina gave her a heart shaped locket once and yeah, you guessed it, the cutest picture of you is in there. Doesn’t hesitate to shoot any man for you. Leaves your face covered in red kisses. She would do anything to make you laugh. Anything you want, it’s yours! Just point at it.

Poison Ivy: Pamela will always spoil you, regardless of how you act. You’ve heard of people growing gardens for their s/o, she would grow forests for you. She’s the most gentle with you, gentle caresses and soft kisses. Paints your nails, brushes your hair while adding flowers into the locks. Always admires dressing you up and putting make up on you. Almost never wants you to leave. Slow dances with you. She’d do anything to keep you out of danger. You think Michael is a good bodyguard? Pamela is the bodyguard.

Bruce Wayne: hhnnnngh. Ok. No but you are the Princess Wayne. Spoiling you rotten goes without saying. Anything your little heart desires is yours. Helps you get dressed. His favorite is helping you with your stockings. Gentle kisses everywhere. Brushes your hair. Lifting you up constantly when there’s a crack in the pavement. Always the driver. Your safety is always first, always. No because whatever you want means whatever you want, which is why there are hello kitty plushies scattered across the Wayne manor. You’ve somehow managed to get your own cozy theater in there too. Princess treatment also means Bruce having to lay back just a teeny bit on Batman just to guard you too while you sleep.

Jason Todd: nmmnnmf YES. I don’t see him treating his s/o any other way. Lots of pet names. Loooves to help you get dressed. Sits you on the counter as he cooks. Never lets you out of his sight. Anything you want it’s yours. Always buying you cute socks and letting you wear his clothes. Forehead kisses. Oh man it’s so disgusting how much Jason loves his princess. Always taking pictures of you, no matter the angle. Would 1000000% tie bows into your hair if you asked.

Billy Hargrove: Honestly if he’s in love with you, princess treatment is granted. Always giving you his jackets, especially when you wear skirts or dresses out. Lifting you over mud and puddles. Subtle kisses on the head while you’re out. Body guard mode activated. He kinda becomes your shadow, appearing out of nowhere and greeting you with a kiss on the forehead. Ties your shoes without asking. Wiping any tears or smeared makeup off your face. Winks at you all the timeee.

Steve Harrington: Kind of similar to Stu, he always makes sure you pass your class. Poor princess doesn’t use her brain in school, too busy trying to stay awake. Always gives you his jacket, even if you don’t want to wear it, he’ll wrap it around you. Finds any excuse to carry you or pick you up. So affectionate. Kisses on the cheek, lips, forehead. Sometimes he will miss and kiss your eye but ugh it’s so fucking cute. Only has eyes for you. Tying your shoes, putting your socks on, literally just dressing you in general is a must. Literally will take you wherever you want, whenever. Drops everything when you call. Such a sucker with the nicknames for you.

Steve Rogers: Ugh another one. Think of him as a body guard who you get to kiss and sit on his lap. Always drops everything to make sure you’re okay. Cannot take his eyes off of you. So smooth with the reassurance. Kisses on the forehead constantly. Always tucks you in. Would help you bathe if you asked. Pulls you onto his lap every time you both sit down. Whatever you want, you’ll get. If he can’t do it, he’ll find a way. Cups your face in his hands when you cry, kisses your tears away. Ugh he’s your literal teddy bear, if you don’t like to be smothered? Pick another muse.

Bucky Barnes: Similar to Steve, he’s your shadow, but he’s a little more … upfront with it. He’s constantly wrapping an arm around you, eyeing anyone who’s eyeing you. He’s so gentle if you’re sensitive. Kissing your cheek is his favorite. Always lingering his fingertips around your crevices. Makes sure you’re never hungry. Always up before you are. Lets you sleep in. If you fight, he will never raise his voice at you. Ready to carry you if you’re too tired to keep walking around. Slow dances with you just because. He’s always worried for you, making sure you’re okay, you’re not sick or hungry. Pet names with him are a must.

Loki Laufeyson: Okkkk and in what situation did you ever think loki was not going to give you the princess treatment??? You are literal Princess Laufeyson. Though he, and Sebastian maybe, are the only ones who can probably, maybe, say no to you, if you pout enough maybe he’ll come to a compromise with you. He never wants to upset you though. Would literally wipe out a small world for you. Or a few. Ok even betray anyone for you. Always cleaning your smeared makeup, fixing your hair, wiping you because you spilled your drink. He’s so devoted to you, im going to throw up. He devours you with his eyes from a distance, you’re never leaving his sight.

Cloud Strife: Ugh ok. Literal bodyguard, as he’s hired to be at times. At your beck and call, though he’d never admit it. Such a sucker and can never say no to you. Though it may take time, he can start calling you ‘baby’ ‘sweet girl’ ‘love’ he’s so infatuated with you and doesn’t know how to handle it. Your safety is his priority. Always listens to you ramble on and on. Brings you flowers for no reason other than he was thinking of you. He’s such a sucker for you. Follows you everywhere.

Sebastian Michaelis: He’s probably the most tame out of everyone but that doesn’t mean he’s not a sucker. There are rules he’s willing to bend for you, literally willing to kill anyone that has the slightest interest in hurting you. Always makes sure you’re fed and if you want a sweet treat, he’s on it. Listens to you talk, even if it’s silly. Dances with you almost every night. He’s so graceful with it. Dressing you and feeding you is his favorite but he might throw in a few teases “poor sweet baby, you haven’t woken up yet to tell your left foot from your right” as you rub your eyes with the wrong shoes on. Of course he’s willing to help, even if he has the idea that you do this on purpose, he's more than happy to oblige.

Spencer Reid: Though his job wouldn’t encourage it, he still drops almost everything to answer you. Always finds a way to share time with his job and his attention to you. Reads to you all the time, whether in person or over the phone. He’s always making comparisons of you being the princess in most fictional stories that you both come across. He’s so gentle with you. Caresses your face all the time. You lay your head on his lap or sit on his lap as he reads away. Always making sure to keep up with your well-being before his own. Would 10000% pick up a habit of writing you little notes or picking flowers for you or taking Polaroids or something to remind you of your everlasting presence in his mind.

[crescenthistory]

Where Padfoot Lays His Head

Summary: Inspired by @thewriterghost's reblog of my last animagus!reader fic, this is just a sweet drabble of Whiskers comforting Padfoot:,)

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, your marauders/animagus name is whiskers, walburga black, black family dynamics and trauma, vaguely implied abuse, sirius spiraling into self-loathing, platonic physical affection, romantic!regulus x reader but platonic!sirius x reader is the main focus, background platonic!moonwater

Note: this is based on the same reader from Feline Touches, Sweet Like Honey and Padfoot vs. Whiskers, sirius' beloved almost-sister-in-law that he has frequent (loving) sibling squabbles with

Sirius pretended he didn’t feel the humiliation burning through his veins from his friends’ worrying looks.

Stop looking at me, stop caring so sodding much.

His internal begging was all for naught; this was apparently what he signed up for when he strolled into the train compartment that housed the largest smile Hogwarts had ever seen and his pack of make-shift slightly-fucked-up-but-lovable friends.

Most days, Sirius was grateful to the bone for the family he had been able to assemble at Hogwarts, stretching from his boyfriend to his boyfriend’s childhood best friend to his biological brother and the boys that became his brothers. However, on days that Walburga Black, the hag to end all hags, sends him a Howler berating him for leaving home over the summer, few sentiments besides anger, self-loathing and isolation remained in the young boy’s body.

When he eventually stops reeling and wallowing, all this attention would make him feel warm once more, especially when he sees they didn’t stop showering him in it even as he retreated perhaps a bit rudely from it. Right now, though, it just kept the wound open and Sirius was sure the infection would kill him this time around.

He was sure of that every time.

It became evident quickly that he would not be able to get away from his friends. James was practically glued to his side from the moment he left the Great Hall after Walburga ruined everyone’s lunch. His brown eyes were so wide beneath his glasses and Sirius was sure he could almost see tears in them as he swung his arm around Sirius’ shoulders and kept telling jokes like his life depended on it. Remus was not much better. He had learned by now not to soften his touches when Sirius was in these moods – on the contrary, harsh, direct touches helped ground him – but his hands rarely left his being, as if he would fall apart without him. Even Lily tuned down her playful banter with him, swapping it for concerned questions and checking in on him throughout the day. Sirius loved them all, but he hated it.

Even Regulus showed him more compassion than normal, though he didn’t say much. His entire being seemed to radiate I get you, I understand more than anyone, because frankly he did. Even as hearing Walburga’s voice must have rattled Regulus too, he didn’t show it, instead holding space for Sirius, carrying what was supposed to be his burden.

Humiliating. 

All of which to say, Sirius did what Sirius does best; he ran from them all, in the one form none of them would be able to hold a conversation with him in.

Padfoot had turned out to be a blessing that way. Sirius picked up on it from you, who only ever was in your animagus form when you felt particularly well or horrifically poorly. Difficult to ask how a dog is feeling, yeah? 

He laid in front of the common room fireplace, stretched out in a position that showed he was ready to pounce should anyone try to pet him. Around him, his friends were cuddled up on the sofas and armchairs, chattering lowly amongst themselves and playing the occasional game of wizarding chess. Padfoot had his head placed on his front paws as his gaze flickered all over the room, unable to settle. His nerves always seemed to transform with him, manifesting as the most anxious dog Gryffindor had seen.

Perhaps the only one, but the sentiment remained.

Their stares were still on him, penetrating and with downturned frowns over their faces. Stop it, stop it, stop it. He couldn’t string too long sentences together in his dog brain – part of its fantastic appeal right now – but that sentiment remained steadfast.

You were sat in Regulus’ lap opposite the fireplace, murmuring something in his ear as you both intermittently looked at Padfoot. Your hands were playing with his hair, lips almost grazing his skin as you talked, even pressing the occasional kiss to his cheek, his jaw, his ear. Love. Padfoot loved love and he loved his little brother getting to experience it so wholly, even as he laid here, destroying the moment with the same misery that haunted any children raised by the Black family. He felt as if he was sucking the joy out of the room with his wallowing, yet he couldn’t stop himself.

Padfoot couldn’t help the low whine that escaped him at the darkness swirling around inside him. Upon fearing having to meet the gazes of anyone who caught the noise and see the goddamn sympathy and pity in them, he brought his paws up to cover his eyes, pathetically hiding within himself.

Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad.

In his internal chanting, he didn’t notice when the chatter died down a bit, nor did he see the glances exchanged. He felt the footsteps reverberating through the floorboards, suggesting somebody was walking away, but he didn’t register its true implications. Leave, was all he could think. Good, leave. Go.

What he did notice to its fullest extent was when a few moments later, soft fur collided with his own as something was rubbing against him.

A bit too quickly, almost too violently, Padfoot’s head snapped up from beneath his paws to see what this intrusion was – only to come face to face with a white-and-grey cat, blinking slowly at him. His mouth fell slightly open, and he thought a complaining bark may be on its way out, but then you – Whiskers – butted your head against the side of his neck, caressing him with your feline body.

The adventures of Whiskers and Padfoot were a running joke, especially one Remus and Regulus loved to team up to tell. Whether it was chasing each other around, hunting rats – preferably Wormtail, but any would do – and mice or playing with the house elves, you two loved to conduct mischief together in the one form you could never be properly caught in. There had been the occasion where you cuddle or pet one another, but it was rare and usually unspoken, attachment growing deeper and softer without either properly addressing it. 

So, this was not necessarily out of left field, but it surprised him nonetheless. He couldn’t say it wasn’t quite welcome, though.

You had started purring as you walked up and down his body where he was laid in front of the fire, soaking up the warmth he was bathed in and oddly calming the vibrating nerves within his own body. Whenever you reached his head, you bumped your snout against his, rubbing the space between your ears all over his face.

Cats are weird, Padfoot thought. Like it.

Mere minutes ago Sirius had been surveying his friends and his effect on them intently, digging himself deeper into his self-inflicted hole. Now, his attention was captured by the much smaller animal beside him, and he didn’t see how most conversation had stopped to witness the interaction. Lily and James looked at them in almost shocked awe, both having been snapped at and ran away from when they attempted to pet Padfoot themselves. Regulus and Remus, however, sat there with soft, knowing smiles – seeing the girl they loved most go for it with no fear and comforting their favourite dog. Remus would deny it to anyone who asked, but there were tears in his eyes.

The next time Whiskers came up beside his face, you stayed there, leaning yours against his. You laid your body down over the paws Padfoot had previously rested his own head on and made yourself comfortable in a position no one but a cat could possibly conjure up. From there, you began cleaning his fur like you were his personally-assigned cat mother, licking the strands in their correct direction. When his face was too far away, you lightly brought your paw up to his snout to bring him further towards you.

Despite being placed in front of a fire, warmth didn’t truly spread through Sirius before now. When he brought his head down, he laid it on top of you and let it rest there across your midsection, careful not to hurt you, as your upper body curled around his head. You continued cleaning up his fur as you purred loudly, easing the tension from Padfoot’s poor body.

A cuddle only animals could come up with, an embrace Sirius would deny anyone today, yet like this, it just worked.

When his eyes became heavy, Sirius let them fall. You continued your ministrations without hesitation, carefully and slowly tending to Sirius face, only stopping occasionally to nuzzle your forehead further into his fur and purr even louder. 

He didn’t quite fall asleep, he rarely did as Padfoot, too alert and awake in this form, but he let himself fall into a place of tranquillity. Walburga’s harsh words seemed almost funny in their anger now, and Sirius’ own spiral was becoming a thing of the past. 

Would he still be red-cheeked tomorrow and avoid his friends’ eyes for the first half of the day? Perhaps, but they would reel him into their arms and hearts regardless. Would he sputter and fall back into his evil cycle of thoughts if anyone brought this specific moment up? Without a doubt, but that’s why they would not, at least not before he settled. 

Padfoot was suddenly safe in the Gryffindor common room. He was safe with this warm weight over his paws and beneath his head, he was safe with love being quite literally carded into every strand of fur on his body. He was safe with the hearth behind him and his pack in front of him, quiet voices further lolling him further into a state of peace.

Padfoot was safe – maybe even loved.

Across the room, Remus and Regulus had gravitated further towards one another, as theirs were the only eyes who never left the scene of cat-dog-solidarity displayed before them. 

Regulus bumped into Remus’ arm with his elbow and whispered, “He doesn’t like cats, he says?” with a knowing smirk.

The other boy huffed a laugh at that, lips remaining softly upturned. “I believe he has an exception or two to that rule.”

[actuallysaiyan]

Can we have 36 with Dante?

warnings: smut, lewd content, alcohol mention, size kink, oral sex(fem receiving), idiots in love, any Dante can fit this role(if you want a specific Dante, just lemme know in your requests) prompt: "That looks too big"

Being good friends with Dante always meant toeing the line with him. He’s a flirty kind of guy. You fell for his boyish charm fairly fast, so to speak. He always made you feel so good about yourself. Despite all that, you were way too shy to even admit to him that you had a bit of a crush on him. Well, a big crush actually.

It all started after a night out at the bar and returning to the office. Dante turns on the jukebox and lets some high energy music fill the room. He sits at the desk with you on top of it, and the two of you are chatting about all kinds of things.

In this state of mind, you almost feel like you could tell him how you feel. Maybe even make a move. Sure, you’ve tried before but you’ve always been way too nervous. Despite how kind and sweet he is with you, you just can’t quite go all the way and even just show him you’re interested. Dante knows though, and he’s kind enough to keep it to himself for the time being.

He’s desperate to fall in love with someone. He wants that real kind of love. This is part of the reason why he doesn’t say anything, because he really doesn’t want to scare you away.

He smirks as he looks up at you. “You look pretty cute sitting on my desk like that.”

You giggle. “Oh yeah? You like this? Is this the type of fantasy you have?”

Dante gets up on his feet and soon he’s towering over you. Gone is the boyish charm, replaced with smooth confidence given to him by the liquid courage. He cups your cheeks, making you gasp and blush. You want to look away but his eyes are full of tender need.

“Maybe it is,” he says softly.

It feels like time passes slowly as he captures your lips with his in such a sweet kiss. It’s soft and it makes you long for more. You hold onto him, making sure not to just fall off the desk from how dizzy he’s making you feel. When he pulls away, you return the kiss.

It’s a blur of making out, swapping spit and hungrily reaching for each other’s clothes. When he’s finally pulled his pants down and his cock is bobbing out from his underwear, this is when you pull away. You expected him to be well endowed, but not this big.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, genuine concern in his voice.

“That,” you swallow hard and point to his cock. “That looks too big.”

Dante smiles and he kisses you again. You feel his rough hands on your body, gently caressing and kneading your flesh. Then he sits back down on the chair, pulling himself closer. You whine when he pushes your thighs apart and rests your legs on his shoulders.

“Well,” Dante begins as he kisses your mound. “I guess I’ll just have to prep you properly, won’t I?”

You barely have time to respond before he latches onto your clit, sucking on it. You thread your fingers through his hair, practically humping his face already. Though his cock is throbbing and leaking, Dante ignores it in favor of pulling pleasure from you.

Because it’s you, and he will always put you first.

Pick a prompt and send me a character and I'll write a Drabble!

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

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dividers: @adornedwithlight

taglist: @cherryblossombankai, @erebus-et-eigengrau, @thestarsystemsworld

[fuckingmyboyfrienddumb]

as much as i crave fucking him into the mattress and hearing him cry from both overstimulation and my cock being too deep in his pretty little cunt, i genuinely want to just make love to him for hours and hours on end.

i wanna kiss every inch of his skin tenfold. starting from his right hand. i’d kiss each finger, each knuckle, his palms, the back of his hands, then his wrists, front and back. every part of him until i make my way to his shoulder. at that point, i’d tip his head back a little and kiss across his collarbone until i’m at his left side. then i’d start from his fingers once more. repeating it all until i’ve kissed my way up to his collarbone once more.

from there, i’d kiss down his chest, focusing tenderly on each nipple, taking one in my mouth as i cup his breast with one hand, squeezing gently to keep it stimulated before swapping sides, taking the other in my mouth and sucking it eagerly as it hardens against my tongue. until his back’s arching into me from how good such a simple touch is making him feel. my free hand would move to his hip, rubbing it softly as i mumble praise and comforting words around his nipple. telling him how much i love him and how good he’s being for me. how patient he is.

after a few minutes, once i’m sure he’s going to be completely and utterly soaked, i’ll slowly kiss down his stomach, leaving marks all the way down until i reach below his belly button. i’d slowly pull down his pants while holding eye contact with him, enjoying how pretty he looks all blissed out and desperate from my attention. i said i wanted to worship him, and that’s exactly what i plan on doing.

once his pants are off, i’d lean in just enough so he can feel my breath on his pussy, opening my mouth like i’m about to take a swipe at his clit, only to turn my head and kiss his thigh. letting out a soft chuckle as he lets out a choked whine, clearly desperate for any friction.

“patience, sweet boy. let me savour it.” i’d whisper as i kiss down to his ankle on each leg, only to kiss my way back up to his face. moving to straddle him as i kiss his neck, taking my time since i know he’s extra sensitive there. focusing on all of his sweet spots. the spots i know’ll drive him crazy. while of course leaving marks all over. claiming him in a way everyone’ll see.

by this point, he’d be panting. his face bright red and his eyes half closed and rolled back as beads of sweat drip down his forehead, creating a soft shine over his skin. my poor boy so deep into his happy place as i savour every inch of his perfect fucking body. my beautiful boy.

i’d kiss down his jaw, both sides receiving equal attention before kissing his chin. then both cheeks, his temples, his forehead, his nose, both corners of his lips before finally kissing him deeply. my tongue swiping over his bottom lip, asking for permission before i go deeper. all the while my hips rock back and forth as my fingers run through his hair.

finally, after a few more long, long minutes, i’d pull back. his lips and chin covered in our spit, but i’d just leave it there.

“such a sloppy boy, honey.” i’d mumble. a whimper in response, nothing more. knowing he’s too blissed out now to even think i’d move back down to the foot of the bed, gently spreading his legs to get a good look at his dripping cunt.

“oh sweet boy…” messy would be an understatement as i look at the sight between my lovers legs. “you’re so pretty like this, honey. so so fucking pretty. so nice and wet for me.”

after what would feel like hours at that point, i’d finally press a kiss to his clit, enjoying the almost guttural moan he’d release as the sudden contact jolts him back to life before licking and sucking as my tongue laps at his pussy. instead of holding his legs open, i’d let his thighs squeeze my head for once as he moans almost pathetically, too overstimulated to make any noise.

“that’s it honey. cum for me, just like that sweet boy. such a good boy. i’m so proud of you.”

[hyperfixating-rn-brb]

The Good Omens Fandom has had a lot of fun recently with the knowledge of Aziraphale and Crowley holding hands on the bus at the end of season 1.

Soo here's everything that went through my head as I learned of it for the first time.

For that entire scene, Aziraphale is really far gone. He's dissociating so hard he can't even realize he's been sitting on a sword. Crowley is probably the only thing keeping him grounded.

They just narrowly stopped Armageddon after a showdown with literally Satan, and still can't let their guard down. For the first time ever, they're completely on their own side. Now they have to orchestrate a body swap to save both of them. They wouldn't just be killed, they'd be completely destroyed. Everything must go exactly according to plan, but how often does that actually happen?

And on top of that, his bookshop, his home, his safe place with the demon he has to pretend not to love is burned and gone.

Crowley is so incredibly gentle and reassuring this entire scene. He's been through so much trauma himself and has spent a lot of his existence shielding the angel from it, hoping to protect some of his innocence and naivete. Crowley is absolutely familiar with every symptom of PTSD and anxiety.

Now he has to see his sweet angel see such a small bit of the horrors of heaven and hell and start to crumble inside. He's going to do his dam best to try and help Aziraphale through it. Speaking softly, ("the bookshop burned down... remember?) slowly and carefully, gradually helping to pull the angel back to reality, reminding him that he's there and will help ground him.

They get on the bus, and sit next to each other. 11 years ago, they sat nearby but separated while Crowley begs Aziraphale to help him prevent the Apocalypse. Now they are sitting together. Both an act of reassurance and unity.

Crowley sits first, Aziraphale could so easily just sit across from him, behind or in front. But he chooses to sit right next to him. And hold his hand. Aziraphale desperately needs to be near to the *former* demon he loves, to hold him, to make sure they won't be separated.

In the book, their famous lines of "none of this would have worked out if you weren't, deep down, just a bit of a good person" and "just enough of a b*stard to be worth liking" came as Satan rose from the earth, as a goodbye in case they were destroyed.

Luckily, that didn't happen and they survived. Armaggedon was stopped. But the angel is still so anxious of losing Crowley. So he chooses to reach out, to anchor himself and reassure himself that Crowley is still there beside him and that they are okay, at least for a few minutes.

And Crowley let him. He knows how badly Aziraphale needs him, he needs the angel just as much. He knows how badly he craved an anchor and support system as he was first abused and traumatized by his Fall, then further by Hell. So he's going to continue being there for Aziraphale, doing everything he can to make his angel feel safe and comfortable.

Over the next few years, Aziraphale would become so much more comfortable reaching out and touching Crowley. Leaning into him, resting a hand on his shoulder or briefly touching his chest. Somehow both reassuring himself that the former demon was still there, and reminding Crowley that he's still there for him at the same time.

Then Crowley becomes more comfortable with the touch, leaning into the angel by himself. No longer flinching at a sudden graze of a hand or reassuring squeeze.

That one moment of the two holding hands on the bus cemented so much of their relationship. "The last few years, not really..." all started on that bus the moment Aziraphale chose to sit down next to Crowley.

edited: at first this said "new knowledge" because I just found out about this all the other day, and wrote this up at 3 AM, and didn't really fact check when this knowledge became well known. I've only really been a GO fan since maybe 2021, and only really started being active in the fandom during the last few months, so a lot of info that is fairly well known is still generally new to me. soo yeah this was edited :)

source for anyone asking for it!

[tteokdoroki]

aali how do u think jock yuuji makes out with u 👉👈

࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #11. makeout sesh.

about. the jock boyfriend convinces his girlfriend that making out is always more fun than studying. m.list ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! suggestive, nsfw, making out, consensual groping lmao, weird / fem!reader, jock bf!yuuji.

makeouts with jock yuuji never start how you expect them to.

you’ll be doing nothing at all; studying together in your dorm or holding hands in yuuji’s jeep on the way to a meet up or something else just regular and mundane. if it’s studying, for example, you’ll reward yuuji with a kiss — to his forehead, between his eyebrows, his cheeks or the corner of his mouth every time he spends an hour focusing on work.

“what about here?” he’ll say, tapping the fullness of his lips, blinking up at you innocently.

and in response, you’ll barely look up from your laptop and books. “what about there?”

“you’re no fun.” he pouts back, as usual. “c’mere.” makeouts with jock bf!yuuji never start the way you expect them to, but they almost always end the same. this time with him pulling you into his lap, chest to chest and hearts in sync as he lures you into a sweet and simple kiss. “i like it when you kiss me here…” there’s a shift in the stuffy air, yuuji’s dark lashes soft against your features as his eyes flutter and hardly look away from you. from your lips.

if you’re careful enough you can catch the way the corners of his mouth twitch up into a coy smirk for a split second before his large, dominant hand slides up from your waist to the back of your head — pulling you in for more than just a rewarding peck.

yuuji’s tongue is patient when your lips meet again, swiping over them as an ask for entry. the mewl you let out when his pink muscle finally swipes over yours is music to your boyfriend’s ears — he shudders wholly, with his entire body, and tightens his grip on you. lets it slide down to your plush ass, squeezing it hungrily.

you’re close but not close enough, even with your noses nudging and becoming next door neighbours as your lip locks grow more feverish. intense. yuuji fills you with a different kind of heat that builds up, swapping spit with you like he’s pouring molten lava and wrapping it around your internal organs. your lungs burn with every breath between every kiss, you need yuuji as though he’s your oxygen or your air.

“you taste s’good, baby, so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles into your mouth, against your bruised lips — groaning with thanks to the higher power above when you cup his throat with your dainty little hands and squeeze. yuuji’s mind grows hazy, his touch more and more inappropriate (pinching your ass, your tummy, thumbing the skin where your breasts meet your ribs) while his appetite for you becomes ravenous.

“don’t stop,” you sigh, purring at the weight of your boyfriend’s tongue in your mouth. “don’t stop kissin’ me…”

itadori cherishes each and every single one of your kisses, treating them like they’re gold and basking in your reactions to them. your hand around his neck, your whines, your other hand tugging on his air. you want yuuji as much as he wants you. you want his taste, touch, attention.

he wants it all from you too.

it’s only when your chest begins to burn from the lack of air that you unwilling part from your strong boyfriend — sitting back in his lap so that you’re only a breath’s width apart, panting heavily as you recover. “we um…we got a little distracted,” you laugh airily, steadying yourself on yuuji’s broad shoulders. “this is exactly why you don’t get kisses on the lips when we study.”

in the end, all yuuji ever does is smile, linking his fingers with yours happily. “so whaddya say? let’s give up studying ‘n get a little more carried away, yeah?”

making out with yuuji always ends with you being putty in his hands, or perhaps underneath him instead.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[bodhiscurls]

clean cut. ( bodhi durran )

bodhi gets tired of you feeling ticklish anytime he comes near to kiss you. barber yn activated, ready with a dagger to save the day and restore balance in the world (i.e he finally gets a kiss)

main pairing: bodhi durran x reader (gn)

themes: fluff

your laughter is like sweet honey, so warm and deep if he could bathe in it, bodhi durran decides he would.

"just one," he groans into your cheek but your hands come up to stop him immediately, forming a barrier between you and him. the distance is palpable and if it weren't for the sound of your loud giggles then he would have torn them down within seconds.

"well i'm sorry," you manage to get out between the fits of you heaving for air. "and how is this my fault?"

it's most definitely his fault.

as sharp and as quick witted he is, brave and determined to no fault. in the last few days, bodhi durran has become lazy with himself. you'll give him grace and draw this down to his extra training hours and drop off schedule stealing his time that the only few minutes he gets involve sleeping by your side to get whatever rest he can. he never imagined that the low hang of his curls draping over his chocolate eyes or his overgrown stubble that would tickle you anytime he drew close to you to steal a kiss would be such an inconvenience to him.

he tries again and pointedly fails. this time, instead of meeting your palm when he fights to place his lips on yours hes met with your shoulder as you turn away.

"stop it!" he complains, annoyance etched into his usual features. if you didn't find this so funny then maybe the sight of him would have scared you slightly but its bodhi. your bodhi who desperately needs a shave.

"nuh uh mister," you scoff, "you know i'm ticklish" you glare, body aching in a warning- that if he tries again you'll have to find a dagger.

"fine," he mumbles lowly and rolls off of you in an instant. the heavy weight of his body and warmth is immediately missed and you sit upright on his bed.

"where are you going?" you call after him as you catch the edges of his curls disappearing into the direction of his bathroom. when he doesn't respond, only huffs with annoyance you slide out of his covers to where your lover is hiding.

"bodhi," you call and you miss the step below leading into the bathroom and crash directly into him.

"hi," you whisper, face inches apart as he catches your body with such ease, holding you flush against him.

"hey," he whispers back, the fuzz of the hair tickling your skin once more and you bite back the urge to wiggle free. he lifts you up and places you on top of the cabinet where you sit comfortably and he stands between your legs. in the quiet of his bathroom he hands you his sharpest dagger and you quirk a brow quizzically.

"what are you waiting for?" he leans his forehead against yours. "do your worst," his breath warms the small air between you. slowly you work your way around his hair, just trimming each of the curls gently so that you're able to see the sliver of his forehead peak through and the brown eyes you've grown to love oh so fondly.

"much better," you smile, "maybe now you can actually see the world before you try and save it, executive officer durran."

he sticks his tongue in his cheek, grinning at you before rolling his eyes gently. "and here i thought long hair was a look."

"with hair that long i don't think you could even look at your reflection nevermind anything else," you tease and a burst of laughter explodes from his chest. he's buzzing and in this moment, he's easily the most radiant being you've ever seen in your life.

"come on hairy, let's fix that beard now," you swap the dagger for a razor and gently glide the blade along his cheek. you're so focused intently on trying not to cut him that you don't realise your holding your own breath. he stares at you, heart swelling and melting under your intensity and he can feel the love that settles between you. this domesticity couldn't feel any more natural. having all your attention on him makes him feel as if truly, he's the luckiest man to ever exist.

you hold his jaw with one hand and narrow your gaze, working your way around his face. slowly and surely, the fuzz is erased and the shadows of its existence begin to lie. you trace it gently, a clean slate, you muse. and tap the blade into the sink, running clean water over it.

"perfect," you mumble, admiring your hard and careful work. he's perfect, you think. and before you can slide off the cabinet to fetch a clean rag to wipe off the residue he grips the side of your hips, holding you in place.

firmly he presses his lips to yours and for the first time in days (read: forever) he isn't met with your stream of giggles and barricade of hands pushing him away. the kiss is soft, slow but still holds the longing he's carried this last week of missing your embrace.

"one more," he promises when you break free from his hold and plants a soft peck to the corner of your lips again. he grins at the flush creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks, a rosy glisten- evidence of his adoration and effect on you and you sigh into his hold, resting your chin in the gap where his shoulder and neck meet, wrapping your arms firmly around him.

but of course one more turns into a thousand more and you wouldn't have it any other way.

note: i dont really like this one but i'm determined to at least get something out. incoming next: hot bodhi nerd who takes his glasses off in the middle of a heated kiss. read: i am sleep deprived after working nonstop and need actual rest or i will slip into this delusional state permanently :)

[myjjongie]

☾ CLOSE YOUR EYES ── p.jongseong

IN WHICH: your telepathic powers spiral out of control after a mission, and the only person who can anchor your mind is jay.

PAIRING: cyclops!jay x jean grey!fem reader GENRE/WARNINGS: lowercase intended !!, one shot, minor skinship, fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, slight slow burn WORD COUNT: 1.3k ₊⊹♡ EVIE'S NOTE: very very late bday post for my number 1 man. this au pairing has to be like my favorite thing ever for jay, and no its not because i'm a scott summers girlie (lie its cause of that). love the x-men sm growing up, so this is everything to me rn.

the mission was over.

laughter filled the hangar. as young students—as well as the dignified x-men—walk out from the blackbird. the mission party was small, but that didn’t mean a celebration wouldn’t be in place for everyone.

yet, you were the last one to exit the plane. a searing headache etching into you. you were quick to slip out of everyone’s view—almost everyone. your trembling hands pressed against the wall, in hopes to steady yourself.

finding a secluded hallway to breathe, the pain only worsened. palms rushing to the side of your head—hoping to ease the growing noise.

living at the institute within the last couple of years allowed you to foster control over your gift. yet, it was moments like this where your said gift became unbearable. as a telepath, your mind was sensitive. your thoughts effortlessly became an echo chamber of voices and emotions.

you could feel the hair on your skin stand—the chaotic mix of noise ringing inside you. so lost desperately helping yourself, you didn’t notice the approaching footsteps.

“yn?”

you could hear your name being called, but all it did was mix with the noise inside your head. the sudden yet soft, warm touch of someone’s hand is what brought you back, allowing the heavy fog within to briefly clear.

eyes focusing, you looked up to see jay. combat visor already swapped out for his signature red-tinted sunglasses. even if was hard to see his eyes, you could tell he was worried.

“jay it’s okay. i’m fine.”

your voice came off as a whimper, the noise heightening as you spoke. jay took notice of your demeanor, his hand finding its way to yours, holding onto it tightly. helping to ground you down—even if it was for a short moment.

your relationship with jay was different. out of everyone in the institute, jay was the only person that helped quell the ringing headaches. due to this, over the years, you both grew closer.

you didn’t think you needed jay’s help this time around. yet, as the minutes went by, the voices only got louder. your hand tightened around jay’s. lips trembling, unable to bear the pain anymore.

“it’s too loud. it hurts.” your voice cracked, the pain doubling at this point. tears began to brim your eyes, unable to hold back everything.

“yn it’s okay. i’m here.” his voice was soft as he rubbed his thumb on your hand.

jay helped settle you down to the floor, hoping to ease your weak body. once sitting down, he kneeled in front of you.

“yn listen to my voice. everything is gonna be okay.” jay was now at eye level with you—even if his eyes were obscured by his sunglasses. you knew his focus was only on you in this moment.

shutting your eyes tightly you listened out for jay’s voice—that sweet voice which always helped pull you from your mind. the exact thing that became your anchor over the years.

to help jay continue talking, he began to reminisce on moments. moments that were only of you. “do you remember when i first came to the school? to be honest, at that time i was so afraid of my powers i kept my eyes shut the whole time. even after the professor told me many times to open my eyes, i was still scared. yet when i finally did i caught a glimpse of you, before i practically blew up the professor’s favorite tree.”

you softly laughed at him. remembering the way jay had split the old oak tree in half. “even if it was brief you were the first person i say after my abilities manifested.”

your smile grew at jay’s words. you could feel your headache clear. the buzzing of noise slowly dying down. yet, when jay began to recall another memory, the pain came back. the memory it’s self wasn’t a direct recall, but more so, a trigger to something you remembered.

a while ago, you had lost control of your powers—enough to almost blow up the school. it took a little over a month for you to feel comfortable again with yourself, as well as your gift.

jay noticed the regression. “come on yn. i’m right here.” he tried to ground you, but this time you were in too deep.

your powers began to fluctuate. now you were scared. not of how things were playing out, but yourself. your mutant gift was the biggest fear you had in life. afraid you’ll never be able to truly perfect your innate abilities.

“jay i’m scared. i don’t know what to do.” too weak to speak, you used telepathy to communicate.

“yn it’s okay. you’re so much more stronger than your powers. don’t let it control you.”

“but. what if i hurt you. hurt every again…”

“you won’t do that. i know you won’t. you could never hurt us yn. if you don’t believe me, look inside my head.”

your breath hitched, uncertainty clouding your decision. jay wanted you to look inside his head. he invited you so freely—so openly, he trusted you more than you could ever know.

with trembling fingers touching your temple, you reached out, not physically, but with your mind. jay didn’t flinch. he didn’t guard his thoughts from you or raise any defenses. simply put, he let you in.

you saw flashes of memories rush by. your laughter echoing through the mansion’s halls, your hand brushing against his in the garden, the way he watched you when he thought you weren’t looking. everything that jay had showed you—every flicker of feeling—held something deeper that you didn’t dare to name.

jay trusted you. even when you couldn’t trust yourself.

you felt more at ease now, finally understanding everything. “but. i’m still scared. what if i lose all control one day…” your voice trembled out.

“yn. you’re more powerful and in control than you think. i want you to prove you can.”

you looked up to him, a questionable look creasing your brow. “what do you—“

before you could continue on, jay’s hand reached for his glasses. your eyes widened. “jay—“

“i know you can do it. i want you to understand why. i believe in you so much.” he voice softened as he reassured you, comfort washing over you.

you hesitated for a slight moment. as you brought one hand to your temple, the other was placed at jay’s. “i’m ready.”

taking the queue, jay began to remove his glasses. eyes still closed just incase. your eyebrows wrinkled as you focused deeply. then you found it.

“you can open your eyes.”

you watched as jay opened his eyes. a faint flash of red slipped past his eyelids—then faded. and there they were, deep brown eyes you had never seen before.

for the first time jay wasn’t looking through a crimson tint. he was able to see the world’s natural color. he was able to see you outside of all that red.

“see, i told you, you could do it.” jay gave you a cheeky smile, his eyes staring into yours. savoring the moment, wishing it would last forever.

jay quickly retrieved his shades, not wanting you too overexert yourself. before any words could be shared, you leaned forward and hugged him.

“thank you. really… thank you, jay.” your arms tightened around him, holding him closer. jay’s hands moved gently along your back, his touch warm and comforting.

before anymore words could be exchanged, a voice called out from above—the announcement that dinner was almost ready echoed through the hallway. you both pulled away from the hug, quickly standing up as the weight of the moment lingered.

“we should start heading up stairs. i’m sure everyone is wondering where we are.” you frantically spoke.

jay nodded, a shy smile tugging at his lips. as you walked down the basement hall, your hand brushed against his—just for a moment, but it was enough. without a word, you both reached out, fingers finding each other in quiet understanding.

perm taglist ( open! refer to this post ) . . . @ikeulove @leehsngs @ijustwannareadstuff20 @enhanextdoor @zaycie @dylanobr1ens @miraeluv @ancnymcnzjy @lvvrikss @treasureteez @sunghoon-cam

[writingwisterias]

Might be a weird request but could you do eras leon reacting to you telling him you wanna keep your shirt on during sex because your insecure?

Heyyy!

I can do this! I hope you have a great day 😘💕

Warnings: NSFW, Insecurities, Fluff, Comfort

Gn!Reader

RE2:

A sweet heart about it honestly

He would go to remove it at first, his hands itching to touch the skin underneath it but when you grab his wrist he instantly stops

His head is shooting up to look at you with concern thinking he's done something wrong

When you tell him his features falter slightly not in disappointment but just hurt that you feel like that

He'll make it his mission to show you how much he loves your body keeping the shirt on.

He wants you comfortable and if that will help then he's fine with it

Maybe eventually you'll feel comfortable enough

Re4r:

I like the idea that Leon is also haunted from his own scars,

no he's not bothered by them enough to keep his own shirt on but he understands more as to why you don't like it

He's not going to push you in anyway, he wants you to feel comfortable and fully be in the moment

So if having your shirt on is going to be the way that works for you then he's cool with that

He can kiss your breasts through the shirt anyway

Infinite darkness:

As soon as you let him know he'll respect it

but he's whispering sweet nothings about how much he loves your body and find it's so sexy

I'm talking like in detail about the effect you have on him and a simple thought it enough for him to get a raging boner

You are blushing mess by the end of the sex but he has helped you gain back some confidence at least

He won't try and find the route of your insecurities and just understand that everyone has them.

He wants you to know that he doesn't care and it's okay to be vulnerable with him

Damnation:

Might offer to swap out your shirt with one of his so it's looser

He doesn't care at the end of the day he just wants you comfortable

If you did swap to one of his shirts then at least the material is thin and breathable (thinking of his compression shirts) so you can still feel his touch and lips on your breasts through the fabric

His hands might slide underneath to hold you as I think he just enjoys skin to skin contact

If you don't like that then he'll just stop and hold you over the shirt or your thighs etc

RE6:

Places his hands either side of you away from that area

He doesn't want to draw attention to your insecurities only really make you feel good.

He'll avoid that area completely if you want him to

After sex he will sit and talk about it, opting to come up with ways that work for you in sex

I think Leon likes the skin to skin but is willing to sacrifice that are if you really don't want to.

There's always other ways he can gain the same contact.

Vendetta:

With his headspace I think he wouldn't really think about it

There's a lot happening in his head so its fair for him to respect your issues just like you respect his.

It would worry him, you are currently his main source of happiness by simply being happy

So hearing this he will work to make sure you appreciate yourself and know that he does as well.

He wont force you to do anything though, he's just going to make sure you are happy

He doesn't need the world ruining you too

Death Island:

I think he's the most compassionate one with the subject out of all of them

He's really going to nail it in your head that you are perfect, whilst still respecting your wishes

He's going to whispering and chanting to you everything he loves (Which is all of you)

Might occasionally pay extra attention to the area but only if you are having a good day, he wants to show you how much he loves it

Maybe leaving marks on your stomach so when you do look at it, you think about him instead of all the imperfections

[thesvnandthemooon]

short n’ sweet au

💋 💋 💋 💋 💋 💋 💋 💋 💋

natasha romanoff x fem!reader, college!au

cute headcanons bc i can’t stop thinking about them

• nat watching you take off your makeup. every night, without fail, she’ll sit on the edge of the bathtub and watch you (once niko is born, she’ll obviously hold him in her lap so he can watch his mommy too <3)

• nat will adjust your necklaces/straps/rings/whatever just to have an excuse to touch you

• pinky promises!! always holding out her pinky for you to intertwine it with yours

• natasha doesn’t get nervous often, but when she does, it’s adorable. she’ll grab your hand and play with your fingers, twist your rings and massage your palms. if there’s a sharpie nearby, she’ll draw little shapes and hearts, too (and a dick, just to add the cherry on top)

• your legs/heels are killing you? she’s definitely carrying you on her back, especially after a long night out and especially once you’re pregnant. the best part is that it doesn’t even faze her. you’re tiny compared to her, so she can easily carry you around. and if you want to sit on her shoulders? hell yeah. she’s used to the feeling of your thighs around her head anyway

• also defo picks you up and puts you on random surfaces. the kitchen counter, the table, the sink in the university’s bathroom. she doesn’t even know why, she just does it

• pulling nat in by her jersey when she gets jealous and watching her melt into a fucking puddle like yes she’s an actual softie <3

• sitting/napping between her legs when she’s playing video games and noticing how her voice gets softer when you doze off. she’ll still trash talk her teammates but at least she won’t wake you doing it

• sleeping in just her letter jacket. literally nothing else. just the jacket. and it kills her

• lipstick smudges everywhere. her neck, jaw, abs, thighs. pressing your lips against every part of her body until she’s breathless and so hard she can’t form a single coherent sentence

• biting her bottom lip while kissing just to hear her moan. bonus points if you’re grabbing the front of whatever she’s wearing

• nat kissing you while you’re in the middle of talking, but especially if you’re rambling or close to starting a fight. yes, she can end a fight that hasn’t even started

+ pregnancy/baby bonus 🍼

• nat kissing your cramping legs and massaging them and actually feeling so so bad

• nat cannot cook. like, at all. but when everything was making you nauseous during the first few weeks of pregnancy and you couldn’t eat anything without throwing it back up? she was in the kitchen all the time, trying new recipes, swapping ingredients, perfecting the seasoning, until she found a food that was safe

• kissing your belly pre-basketball game for good luck 😭 and if she feels the baby move, it’s basically guaranteed they’ll win

• using nat as your personal heater and her being more than happy to let you do it

• nat downloading a contraction timer app but panicking and pressing the wrong buttons when you’re in labor

• you leaving lipstick kisses on niko’s cheeks because it’s adorable (and nat wondering why the fuck you’re painting her son)

• natasha carrying niko around like he’s a football. not because she doesn’t know how to properly carry him, but because she thinks it’s funny

• bringing him to practice and games and nat carrying him onto court. her teammates love him and always give him little high-fives (even if nat has to help him with those)

• you told natasha not to swear around the baby. she forgets every time, though. you get mad every time as well. especially when your toddler drops the f-bomb one day

• nat definitely talks shit about other babies at least once, even if you tell her not to do that (though you can’t really disagree when she says: “ours is cuter”)

• her lifting him into the air like simba (picture cam from modern family but less dramatic)

• niko helping you get ready once he’s older: pretending to put your lipstick on you, holding your jewelry…and being all like “mama pretty” (the baby fever oml)

• he’s a mini-nat and it shows. putting his hands on his hips, raising one eyebrow, saying “watch it” when he’s mad at someone

• matching jerseys!!

[innerfare]

Smutty Shanks Headcanons

Summary: a collection of NSFW Shanks headcanons

Genre: pure smut

CW: oral sex, penetrative sex, slutty Shanks

———

Has a habit of asking people to join his crew when he wants to sleep with them. Beckman no longer wastes his breath trying to stop it, has simply resigned himself to the reality that his captain is a whore because… well, he is a whore. 

More than happy to share with others.

Has so much game, it’s unreal. Nobody had to teach this man how to pick people up at a bar, he was just born that way. And he has perhaps the most colorful body count of anyone in any of the seas, a list of past lovers that include pirates, marines, aristocrats, bureaucrats, and many a bar maid (there’s a green-haired one in the East Blue whom he is particularly sweet on and often finds himself reminiscing about). Gender, appearance, profession- none of this matters. If Red Hair Shanks has you in his sights, he’ll have you in his bed soon enough. 

Not the biggest dick, but above average and on the thicker side; definitely has a nice curve in it. Has never manscaped in his life, would be deeply offended if you suggested he should. He’d probably be offended if you shave, too. This man likes it natural and nasty. 

Kisses like he’s trying to swallow your tongue. Seriously, the messiest, sloppiest kisser, aims to swap as much saliva as possible with you; the type to share chewing gum with you. This holds true for when he goes down on you, too. 

Speaking of going down on you, he’s religious about it. He swears your pussy is a hangover cure and he’ll have a headache all day if he doesn’t get to taste you. You’ll end up with a rash on your inner thighs from his stubble, but if that’s the case, he’ll just bend you over and lick your cunt from behind to give your inner thighs a break. As much as the stubble bothers you at first, you quickly reach a point where you don’t think you’d be able to cum if a clean-shaven man put his face between your legs. 

Sometimes gets a case of whiskey dick (happens far more often than he’d ever admit), but he always makes it up to you come morning- to the point you’ve assured him repeatedly there’s no need (help, you’re so sore), but he feels he has something to prove. His whiskey dick isn’t even straight up dysfunction because he can still get hard, he just can’t cum, so even though he’ll fuck you good and make you cum, he feels like you haven’t been fucked properly until he’s finished inside you. 

Has a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde thing going on in that there are two versions of him in bed: 1) the easygoing drunk who is more than happy to lay back and let you do all the work while he watches your tits bounce (Shanks is a titties man, it’s practically canon), and 2) the pirate emperor who will pound mercilessly into you from behind, hands digging into your hips so hard they leave bruises. 

You always know when the pirate emperor is going to be the man waiting for you in bed that night based on how many jokes he cracks over dinner/drinks. If he’s in rare form, making even more jokes than usual, leaving the entire crew keeled over in laughter, he’ll be bending you over and snapping his hips against yours for a solid hour; basically, if Lucky Roux laughs until he cries, you are about to get fucked. Once you notice this pattern, you realize he makes eye contact with you while the crew is distracted by whatever joke he just told, and he always has a wicked gleam in his eye, as if his Conqueror’s Haki might just rear its powerful head. 

Pirate emperor Shanks is willing to risk it all, too. He’s not going to wait until his cabin door is shut to start tearing your clothes off. He’s not going to tell you to keep it down in case the crew overhears. He’s not going to double check you took your birth control that morning. He’s just going to fuck you, and you’re just going to take it. 

That being said, he’s never rough with you when you blow him. Blowjobs actually bring out the sweetest version of Shanks there is, the version who tells you to pace yourself and smiles brightly when he cums. He’ll hold your hair back for you, being very careful not to tangle it, and be sure not to thrust his hips forward; not into face fucking. 

Has the most ridiculous nicknames for you outside the bedroom, and these carry over into the bedroom, too. His favorite is to call you his red panda. Sometimes uses these silly nicknames to break some of the tension. 

Your most common position is with you on top, but his favorite position is prone bone. He likes your body flat against the mattress with his on top of you while he bottoms out inside. He’ll make you cross your ankles, too, so he can get even deeper. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[v6quewrlds]

I’m the bday girl… I still have hope for homiesexual 3 for the future… but do you have anything currently written for Joe that you haven’t post yet

happy birthday, bestie! pls don't look too closely lol <3

read more⠀⁎⠀joe burrow masterlist.

Joe paused, eyeing the racks of clothes and the wall of shoes. He widened his stance, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the landscape of your side of the walk-in closet. "No, the patterns would clash," he murmured to himself.

You laughed to yourself. You knew Joe was taking this task to heart, and you loved that. Though he could have questionable choices of his own, you had to admit he had an eye that surprised you from time to time.

He held up an olive green mini-dress that caught the soft light of the closet perfectly. "This one," he said to himself decisively. It was a color you hadn't worn in a while, but Joe thought it would bring out the warmth in your eyes. "Okay, shoes..." He bent down, squatting to rummage through the neat rows of heels and flats. His eyes scanned the options, and after a moment, his hand shot out, grabbing a pair of strappy black heels. They were tall but not too flashy, elegant and simple with enough detail to make a statement without overshadowing the dress.

He returned triumphantly to the bedroom, holding out his selections to you. You took the dress and shoes from Joe, your smile growing as you stood to look at yourself in the full-length mirror. You held them up to your body, visualizing the outfit. "If this football thing doesn't work out, I might hire you to be my assistant," you teased, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Joe smiled wide, his face lighting up with a rare blush. "I'd settle for being your personal stylist," he quipped back. "What are the jewelry vibes tonight?"

You tilted your head thoughtfully. "Gold," you said, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "Go crazy." You pulled on the dress, swapping your sweats for what he'd picked. Joe watched your transformation with a sense of satisfaction, his eyes tracing your silhouette.

He rummaged through your jewelry box, his gaze darting over the various necklaces, earrings, and bracelets. He paused at a gold plated necklace and a pair of dangling gold hoops. He held them up to the light. "These," he nodded, placing them aside.

You slipped into the bathroom to finish getting ready, the smell of your favorite perfume filled the room as you sprayed a fine mist of it behind your ears and along your neck. The scent was a warm, inviting blend of jasmine and vanilla that Joe always seemed to love. He entered behind you, handing you the hoops before draping the necklace around your neck. His hands lingered for a moment, his thumb gently brushing against your collarbone.

He stepped back to admire his handiwork. "Perfect," he murmured, his voice low and filled with admiration. "What do you think?" he asked, eyes sweeping over your figure as you fastened the earrings.

You met his gaze in the mirror, a smile playing at the corner of your lips. "I love it," you said, turning to face him. You leaned in to kiss him, your heart fluttering as his hands found your hips, squeezing softly as your lips parted. "Thank you," you whispered, the warmth in your voice unmistakable.

His arms drew you closer, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume, feeling the fabric of your dress brush against his palms. He kissed your forehead, his eyes still taking in your beauty. "You're welcome," Joe whispered back, his voice soft with affection.

"Baby," you laughed against his chest, "we're going to be late."

He didn't budge, his hold on you tightening instead. "Worth it," he murmured, planting a trail of kisses along the column of your neck. You laughed lightly, attempting to push him gently away.

"Seriously, Joe," you said, your hand finding the nape of his neck, your tone playfully stern. "Our reservation..."

"Is for 8 PM," he finished your thought, his voice muffled against your skin. "We've got time."

[lovelaetter]

a sucker for your sound.

PWP. NONCON + BLACKMAILING.

reader is mean and an asshole, as she should, because ryujin is just as bad.

Ryujin has to increase the screen brightness to properly see whatever shit it’s happening in the video, almost dropping the phone when it’s herself she finds smiling at the camera— definitely herself, sitting at the edge of her bed, in her clothes, smile too loose and relaxed, eyes darting off to something (someone?) outside the frame and coyly biting her thumb.

Her fingers move to the screen to pause it but you are faster, holding her wrist and motioning for her to keep watching. “Nu-uh, we’re not even at my favorite part yet.”

The look on her face has you wishing you had set up another camera to record this moment as well, blood draining from her cheeks concerningly fast as you step into view in the video, saying something that makes her laugh and grabbing her chin to guide her for a kiss that is not at all the big surprise compared to how eager she leans into it, even for you. The Ryujin on the screen is frantic, taking her shirt off in a rush and parting her legs to let you kneel in between, tossing her head back when you slide down her chest, her bra half pulled down as you have your hands too busy kneading at her waist to unclasp it.

In the present world, the eyes and lips of the Ryujin sitting by your side twitch, so much you briefly think she is about to have a stroke. You reach to wipe the bit of sweat which began to form at her forehead but she swaps your hand, tapping to fast forward the footage.

“Wait, wait, go back,” you jump in, taking the phone from her and doing it yourself before dropping it back onto her shaky grasp. “Here, this is my favorite part. Oh, you’re gonna love it!”

Ryujin whines, rightfully disturbed, she doesn’t want to watch any other second too afraid to find out what could be so exciting to you and so humiliating for her and yet, her eyes stay glued to the screen. Contrary to her video-self who simply holds the right side of her face and gives you a daring look, she flinches with the way your hand comes down on her cheek, and again, and again— four times—, gasping shocked enough to make you laugh upon noticing the way her body curls and shakes on the last strike, thighs trapping your fingers in place inside her.

“What did you…” she trails off in a whisper after a moment, the video still going with you manhandling her to her belly, light as a feather, unfortunately looking away before seeing the way you spread her asscheeks open and the mess she made appears in clear sight. A pity, really.

The laugh dies in your chest and your gaze flickers between her and the phone, one more giggle coming up. “Well, you see, there’s this thing two grownups do, it’s called se—”

“Yeah, you motherfucker, but I— I was drunk, clearly! You fucking took at advantage of me!”

“Sure, but I didn’t do anything you didn’t want me to. I mean, you came to me, my name all sugary on your tongue, arms around my neck and everything.” She lets you touch her this time, to brush a stray piece of red hair behind her ear. “Even I was weirded out, baby.”

Her pretty face twists, eyes wide, pale cheeks long gone and replaced by an angry flush, “Do you hear yourself? If you think I’m gonna let this—”

“Quit bitching,” you snap with teeth gritted, tugging at the same strand harshly and not being able to hide the smirk when the ow! she lets out is quite too obscene to be pained, your faces so close you share a singular breath. “I was actually really nice to you, you know? That sweet little cunt was begging for way more than my mouth and fingers.”

Her mouth opens, closes, opens again and Ryujin seems to ponder and so do you. She could, in fact, find some way to fuck you up but there isn’t much use in it when you already have her blush-y, spit smeared orgasm face engraved in your brain. It’s not about the video, it’s about you and her and whatever rivalry game you two have going on.

You give no signs of letting go of her hair and she huffs— cute, you think—, staring into your eyes with a stubbornness that you are too used to and annoyance dripping when she speaks, “What do you want?”

“Only me? Nah, I’m not that selfish,” you eye her up and down, the way she squirms as you settle a hand on her waist not going unnoticed. So obvious, this girl. “I’m sure we will work out a little deal good for both of us.”

[whereserpentswalk]

There was, once in the ancient days, when Rome had conquered the Britians, a faerie prince had left for the day the realms of fae, where all the faeries danced, he left his tree stump palace and his subjects of kobolds and sprits, and his fellow lords of the fae, and he came to the great villas and groves of England and chose to give the ultimate power of unseelie vengeance, to the mortals he'd consider most in need of such things.

And within his quest, he had found two souls more oppressed than most would ever be in their lives, two slaves, who had lived their entire lives mining tin within the mountains. One red haired, one yellow haired, and neither their names recorded by time.

And the faerie came to the two slaves, with moth's wings on his back, and the horns of a great stag, and an armored exoskeleton shining black-green on his body, with fire in his great golden eyes. And he told the two slaves shivering in the cold before him, "Greetings subjects of humanity, have no fear, for I bring today great fortune in exchange for my sweet entertainment. Choose whoever you believe holds the most of gifts deprived from you, and I shall swap your place with them, and you shall live your lives in their luxury and them in your misfortune. and take what time you need to select who stands highest above you, and whose deserves most to be brought down to your place."

After a few moments putting their pickaxes down, thinking about who could be most privileged, and who their greatest oppressor was, the red headed slave suggested, "Well I don't think kindly of the slaves in the gladiator pits now do I! They have it all good, fighting and winning praise down in Rome, while us real slaves up here are working hard for the empire. If we'd swap places with them they'd learn what work really was!"

The faerie, having in all his studies of humanity learned that humans do not like being stabbed, nor chopped into pieces asked, "Our you sure that the slaves in the fighting pits are the most privileged of people you can think of, I'll give you time if you must need it."

The yellow haired slave raised his hand, "The harem slaves! Oh, the harem slaves. They get to live right in the roman's mansions, all prettied up with perfume, all they have to do is lay back and make love. Never had to work a day in their lives!"

The faerie, having in all his studies or humanity known rape to be a crime worse than murder to most, tried to suggest something else; "The romans! Your masters! Yes, you've mentioned them. The people who enslaved you. Consider that perhaps they may factor into any discussion of your oppression, and who stands above you..."

The red haired slave answered, "Well of course! We've worked so hard for the Romans, and because of those slaves more privileged then us, demanding so much in regard to resources and attention, we get treated like dirt. If all slaves were miners and farmers, the Romans would treat us so well."

And the yellow haired slave added, "We keep the empire running. The empire could survive without the fighting pits and harem boys, but they need us for their metals! The Romans should be proud of us! Great Constantine himself, bless his soul, said that hard working men like us would stand with him in heaven..." (That final comment lead into an argument between the yellow haired Catholic and the red headed Arian, as to who was a heretic, and whose hard work would surely be recognized into heaven, the argument being too long and useless to write down here.)

Eventually, the faerie stopped them both, "Have you ever considered what it would be like to not be slaves? I heard that there were some places where slavery doesn't exist at all."

The red headed slave yelled, "Don't you go insulting us slaves, talking about a world without us!"

The yellow haired slave added, "Yes! We're proud and hard working! My father was a slave, and his father, and his father, and his... well his father was a warrior in the army of Boudica, but you get the point don't you."

The faerie said blankly, "I think I do." And, thinking his entertainment was boring him quite a lot, told them, "Just tell me quickly, who you think is more privileged than you, and I'll swap you with them."

And before the yellow haired slave could contradict him, the red headed slave cried out, "The slaves of Alexandria! That city is paved with gold, with pyramids at every street. I've never been there but I've known some slaves who have. Some of the slaves there are even teachers to the roman's children, able to read and write and all that, and its never even winter. Swap us with them, and we'll be the most privileged slaves in the world!"

And so, the faerie did. And so, the red headed slave and the yellow haired slave found themselves in the boiling streets of Alexandria, ready to be shipped off to a copper mine in lower Egypt. The faerie lord had learned too well that one cannot be freed unless the wish to be. And before the faerie stood two slaves from Alexandria, and hoping there were some people within the world of mortals who knew their own oppression, he asked them, "Greetings subjects of humanity, have no fear, for I bring today great fortune in exchange for my sweet entertainment..."