#tangle and dangle

[oftwodarkmoons]

I was tagged by @norashelley to post four non-selfie images. Thank you! There's only my yard and the cats on my phone.

I'll tag @aryasnow @botticellis-primavera @mermurations @holmesandwhatson @gothicmaiden @mirahcles @lily-of-elysium. I know a lot of you don’t do tags, but it's my duty to pass this on, so just in case, here you are!

[theriu]

Was thinking about King David's son Absalom from the Book of Samuel and had an epiphany:

So anyway from now on I'll be imagining Absalom as famous 80s cover model actor Fabio. and I bet you all will too.

[mogseltof]

I'm watching an older horror movie (the tunnel, from 2011 lmfao) and god bless I was expecting kind of schlocky found footage but the expert lampooning of aussie film news styles is delightful

[canthandlethishit]

pick so many vegetables gotta pickle

[pleaseget-out]

Did u know that not having to fight ur hair out of the way to go pee improves your quality of life by at least 60%?

[dmitriene]

cw: omegaverse, mating.

simon ghost riley knows well that you're a really skittish omega, his mate, too, which makes it all only more problematic, but it's shouldn't be an issue for him, not at all, he's sure that if he'll treat you right, pamper and stroke over where you tense in defense, you'll rub your face against his neck and purr sweet little sounds only for his ears alone, so he makes it his mission.

he let's you hiss and scratch all you want, slap his outstretched, offered hand, rumble like a fierce thing when he brushes a thumb down your neck, thumbing over the sensitive curve where your gland hides, blooming ripe and mouthwatering with the most luscious scent ever, and when you see the way his searing, amber eyes eclipse with dilating, opaque darkness, tracing a path of shivers over your skin from his gaze alone, you flee.

you make simon stalk you all around, to dig in the littlest corners you hide in to make sure you're nourished and feeling alright, no fever, no heat, no bite mark from someone who would dare to try, and the unmistakable care that sizzles calmly in his softened eyes makes you warm up, just a little bit, enough to not bite his hand off when he smoothes a palm over your head, or brings you some food he thinks you should have in your ration to be a healthy omega.

reluctantly, he get's to court you, as much as it can be called so, holding his hand barely from touching the small of your back as you walk beside him, the distance between you two getting smaller and smaller, but still there, when you glare daggers at him should he try to smell you, or tense as he touches you accidentally, only a brush, yet, you shiver and lean away, suppressing the flutter of warmth that creeps up your belly.

simon learns that you panic at the permeating scent of alpha pheromones the hard way, when he let's them out, noticing the lingering gazes of the unruly mutts around him that eye you like some bone, and he can't stand it at all, the lurking gazes, how oblivious you are, walking around unmarked, not mated probably, a shame to him, but he tries to be gentle, to take his time with you, yet he can't control the menacing sourness of his scent, acrid against your sensitive sense of smell.

it's scares you, the tang of menacity you pick up on, the way his lips pull up in a snarl, and when he growls, gravelly and loud, you let out an uncontrollable, instinctive whimper, shrinking in the bow of your body, trying to curl, hide, shield yourself with a sharp distress to your pleasantly sweet scent, whirling around your shivering form in waves that reach out to simon, distracting, forcing the haze of an possessing anger dissipate, leaving behind a pang of a quilt.

simon would apologize to you in private, properly, where he'd be able to persuade you to let him show how sorry he is for making you so uncomfortable, with your quivering legs spread wide, dangling at his broad, stretched out shoulders, and his drooling mouth devouring your sweet cunt, pulsing and soppy all over his twisting tongue, the pitch high keen of your voice a delight to his ears, and maybe, just maybe, you'll let him stick in with a tip, perhaps.

he just wants to make sure you'll be safe if he's suddenly wouldn't be any near you, and he was acting so good all the time, even with his gums aching to bite into the tender flesh of your neck, lick over your scent gland, make it swell, and when he does makes you gush in his mouth, swallowing gulps of your slick until dry, limbs boneless, toes spasming in a curl, you don't fight off the feel of his crooked nose digging in the curve of your sweaty neck.

your glassy eyes flutter shut, nails clawing up from simon's shoulders to his cropped hair, sharp, unsure, trying to pull him away and as close as possible, listening to the gravelly, almost purring coo of his voice, soothing your tangled, wracked nerves, and you let him, garbling, mewling, until his sharp canines pierce deep in, chapped, tissued lips suck down to soothe the sting that makes you sob, spine arching painfully, until your body sags completely, useless.

he'd wait for a next, better time to warm you up to try and take his knot, there's no pleasure in forcing you, rushing things, for now, his inner alpha is sated enough, seeing those imprinted dents of his teeth bruising over your neck like a brand, your body cradled close, deep asleep and letting out unguarded, barely audible purrs, humming something illegible as his palm cups over your gland, face nuzzling in the crown of your head, and yes, it's more than enough.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[vampjaeyun]

PARK SUNGHOON FIC REC LIST

s, smut | f, fluff | a, angst | suggestive is noted

my laptop is fried from all the tabs lol, but these are my fav psh fics, or at least the ones i have liked/remember ! its LONG lol > word count lowers as you go down the list! (not in order)

grocery store receipts [ hot neighbor!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s,f,a

to the boy: who took me to prom [ best friend's brother!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s,f,a

harvest of purity [ innocent!sunghoon, strangers to lovers ] s,f,a

stupid in love [ bestfriend!sunghoon, summer au ] s,f,a

we'll always have this summer [ summer au, strangers to lovers, city girl x country boy au ] s,f,a

gods & monsters [ step-brother sunghoon x fem!reader x stepbrother!heeseung ] s,f,a

park sunghoon: the boy next door trope [ shy figure skater!sunghoon x popular extrovert!reader ] s,f,a

king of tears [ chaebol husband!sunghoon, second chance romance au ] s,f,a

crossroads romance [ ex!sunghoon, suprise return au ] s,a

unlucky girl syndrome / part two [ grumpy x sunshine au, love triangle au ft. jake ]

sex for dummies! [ academic rivals au, university au ] s,f,a

tangled desires [ enemies to lovers, rich kids au ] s,a

the dollmaker [ husband & dollmaker!sunghoon, gothic/supernatural elements au ] s,f,a

love next door [ childhood bsf!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s,a

teacher's pet [ professor!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s,f,a

you're such a brat [ arrogant!sunghoon x bratty!reader, enemies to lovers ] s

cherry pits [ dad!sunghoon x fem!reader, dilf au, neighbors au ] s,f

three weeks & three days [ best friend's ex!sunghoon, halloween au ] s,f,a

lucifer [ fallen angel!sunghoon x virgin angel fem!reader ] s

first date etiquette [ neighbor au, first date au ] s

dior girl [ designer!sunghoon x fem!reader, dark!sunghoon ] s

night-shift / day shift (pt.2) [ boss & camboy!sunghoon ] s

give up heaven [ ex-bestfriend & hockey player!sunghoon, friends to lovers ] suggestive,a

get you better [ boyfriend's best friend!sunghoon, cheating au ] s

urs [ situationship!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s,f

say my name [ neighbor!sunghoon, enemies to lovers ] s

star-crossed / part two [ prince!sunghoon x servant fem!reader, greek mythology ] s,f

cherry [ outcast!sunghoon x class president fem!reader, enemies to lovers, 90's au ] f

bittersweet teeth [ brother's best friend!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s

past wounds, present hearts [ ex bully!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s,f,a

heavenly [ playboy & ex bf!sunghoon x fem!reader, fake dating au ] f,a

forbidden attraction [ wizard!sunghoon x witch!reader, hogwarts au ] s

hidden desires [ brother's bestfriend!sunghoon ] s,a

traditionally nontraditional [ husband!sunghoon x wife fem!reader, newly married au ] s

bed [ fiance!sunghoon x fem!reader, mini honeymoon au ] s,f

tides and temptation [ siren!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s,f,a

on the rebound [ babysitter!sunghoon x fem older!reader ]

the pussy eating competition! [ munch!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s

dangerous when wet [ virgin loser!sunghoon, best friend's little brother au ] s

lovers in the night [ friend!sunghoon to fake dating au ]

nudes i can't send [ toxic ex!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s,a

forbidden [ brother's best friend!sunghoon x spoiled fem!reader ] s

mark me yours [ idol bf!sunghoon x idol fem!reader ] s

late night rendezvous [ spiderman! sunghoon, established relationship ] s,f,a

don't wake dad [ stepbrother!sunghoon ] s

fixed comfort [ drunk bf!sunghoon x fem!reader ] f

cabin fever [ established relationship au, ski resort au ] s

wet [ established relationship au, pool sex ] s,f

pretty best friend [ bsf player!sunghoon x nerd!reader ] s

girls need love [ best friend's brother!sunghoon ] s,f

such a mess together [ academic rival!sunghoon x ] f

dangling charms / cat and mouse (pt.2) [ nerd!sunghoon x fem!reader ] s

spring snow [ exes to lovers + strangers to lovers, accident au ] f,a

horror [ bf!sunghoon x fem!reader, movie night au ] s

loyalty [ hockey player!sunghoon x class president!reader ] s

birthday sex [ established relationship au ] s

kiss me more [ friend!sunghoon, first kiss au ] s,f

ceo sunghoon who loves taking care of you because you're his [ ceo!sunghoon, age gap au ]

post argument [ bf!sunghoon x fem!reader ] f,a

i found your blog [ best friend!sunghoon x tumblr writer fem!reader ] s

right to the core [ bf!sunghoon, esablished relationship ] s

jealous over a bunny? [ established relationship au ] s

ms. & mr. president [ student council vice president!sunghoon, frenemies to lovers ] f

intentions [ popular!sunghoon x fem!reader ] f

nasty sex [boyfriend!sunghoon ] s

panty sniffing [ perv!sunghoon ] s

porn star material!sunghoon

perv!sunghoon

[sixeyesonathiel]

pirate!satoru who has a bad habit of picking up shiny things and an even worse habit of teasing the sweet mermaid he meets every sunset.

he first saw you while chasing a storm. his crew had warned him of cursed waters ahead, thick with fog and stories about drowned men who never sank. sea birds had stopped circling, and even the wind seemed to hesitate—but satoru liked cursed things. they were usually interesting. and interesting things always led to fun.

what was more fun than a girl in the sea, glowering at his ship like it had insulted the ocean herself?

he remembers that day like salt on skin. ropes whipping in the wind, the creak of the ship’s old bones groaning beneath his boots. gulls screeched overhead, barely heard over the crack of thunder. and then—your eyes, breaking the water like two shards of moonlight, locked onto his with that same look of unimpressed calm, as if you’d already judged him and found him deeply, deeply annoying.

you were tangled in another crew’s net, fins thrashing, hands cut red from rope. he didn’t free you out of chivalry—no, he wasn’t that sort. he just hated the other pirates. loudmouthed, greedy, and smug, like they were owed the sea’s bounty. they caged you like a prize pearl in a box. and that pissed him off.

“i owe you a favor,” you’d said afterward, voice soft like seafoam clinging to a quiet shore.

“you can owe me your company,” he’d replied, tipping his hat like a man far too confident for his own good.

turns out, getting under your skin was impossible. your metaphorical skin might’ve been made of coral and old secrets. he teased. you smiled. he flirted. you tilted your head in confusion. he poked. you thanked him.

like now.

he lounges at the edge of the ship, one leg dangling lazily over the side. the sun’s lowering behind him, turning his white hair gold at the edges, glinting off the pale sweep of his lashes. the breeze lifts the ends of his coat, fluttering it just enough to add flair. in his hands, he twirls two mismatched seashells between calloused fingers, idly rolling them together with a click.

a few crewmates are scrubbing deck nearby, trading quiet gossip about strange tides and the price of fish. none of them look over. they know better. at sunset, the captain talks to the sea—and she talks back.

then you arrive.

rising slowly from the waves like the ocean herself breathed you out. droplets cling to your collarbone, shoulders glistening under the fading sun. your hair, wet and clinging to your cheeks, frames the serene warmth in your eyes. you blink at him with that same quiet anticipation, like this ritual—this meeting—is the most natural part of your world.

he smirks, holding up the seashells. “oi, these yours?”

your brow furrows as you float closer, curiosity blooming across your face. “mine?”

“they look like your bra,” he says casually, letting them swing between his fingers.

you tilt your head. “bra?”

satoru leans forward on his elbows, grinning like the smug little shit he is. his eyes gleam with mischief, watching your expression intently.

“you know. the thing you wear over your chest?” he makes a vague motion toward your own shell top, then glances down at the ones in his hand. “though these—” he eyes the tiny shells, then very obviously eyes you, “—are definitely snack-sized. yours are, uh. not.”

you look at the shells, then down at yourself. then back at him. your smile spreads slowly, luminously. “they’re very shiny. thank you.”

he freezes. “wait. no, that’s not—”

your fingers break the surface and take them gently, like he’s handed you something precious. your touch is cool, damp, and feather-light against his knuckles. he tenses, a little startled by the sincerity of the gesture.

“i will wear them tomorrow,” you say, delighted. “they’re beautiful.”

he sputters. “they’re too—wait, you’re serious?”

you nod, already lowering back into the waves, cradling the shells like they’re pearls from a lover. “thank you, satoru.”

the sea folds over you in one smooth motion, and you're gone—your tail flashing silver in the last bit of sun, leaving only ripples behind.

satoru stares at his now-empty hands. then drops his face into them with a groan. “i was teasing, you little—”

that night, he doesn’t sleep right.

he tosses in his hammock, arms crossed behind his head, boots kicked off haphazardly on the floor. moonlight drips through the porthole like spilled milk, casting pale lines across his wall. every time he closes his eyes, he sees the way yours sparkled. hears your voice echoing in the back of his skull. "i will wear them tomorrow."

“they’re too small,” he mutters. “they were for crabs. or like, decorative. who even makes shell bras that size?”

he flips over and buries his face into the pillow with a frustrated grunt. wills himself to sleep out of sheer frustration.

satoru wakes with a start the next morning, tangled in the hammock’s netting like a man caught in his own trap. the wood above him groans softly with the sway of the ship, but inside his skull, everything is loud. echoing. relentless.

"i will wear them tomorrow."

the memory hits again, not so much a whisper as it is a war drum. a cursed prophecy. his breath catches, and he blurts out—“shit.”

he nearly tumbles out of the hammock, lurching upright like he’s missed roll call at death’s door. his coat is thrown over his bare shoulders in a crooked mess, one sleeve still twisted from sleep. one boot is half on, heel dragging noisily across the floorboards as he bolts for the deck like a man late to his own wedding. his hair is a disaster—white tufts sticking out in every direction, the ends tangled like salt-kissed seaweed.

his crew parts like startled fish, wide-eyed and wary. some lift their heads from mugs of lukewarm grog, others pause mid-scrub, the morning sun casting halos over buckets and ropes.

“what’s gotten into the captain?” a deckhand murmurs, still holding a mop dripping seawater.

“maybe the mermaid did curse him,” another offers, leaning on the railing with a skeptical squint.

“more like blessed,” a third snorts, biting into an apple with the smugness of someone watching a romance unfold.

satoru hears all of it. ignores all of it. his boots clack against the wood like thunder rolling toward a storm.

his strides are frantic, yet deliberate. his shoulders tense. his expression, usually carved from smug marble, is twitchy—like a man walking into his own trap with his eyes wide open. he rakes a hand through his hair—more chaotic than usual—and curses softly when it tangles between his fingers.

the morning air is salty, thick with gull cries and the faint scent of fish stew wafting from the galley. behind him, the sun has barely begun to climb, painting the deck in long gold strokes and casting shadows that stretch like sleepy cats.

and there you are.

rising from the sea like a myth rewritten.

your silhouette breaks the water with ethereal grace, droplets clinging to your skin like borrowed starlight. your hair, soaked and glinting like pearls, drapes around your shoulders, framing your face with moonlit strands. your eyes—curious and bright—search the horizon before landing on him. and there, nestled over your chest in all their misplaced glory—those fucking seashells.

tiny. ornamental. utterly useless in the face of reality. they barely cover what they’re meant to. they sparkle obscenely under the sun.

satoru’s spine locks like a rigged pulley. his pupils shrink.

he pivots too fast—then smacks directly into the mast.

thunk.

“ow—! dammit—” he hisses, stumbling back and grabbing his forehead like he’s been cursed by the gods themselves. one eye cracks open, pained and watery, just in time to see you waving.

“satoru! good morning!”

your voice is sunshine poured over seafoam. you tilt your head, cheeks dewy and glowing, sea breeze brushing through your bangs.

he spins again, half-hiding behind the mast, gripping it like a lifeline tossed from a lifeboat. his mouth is dry. his pride is dissolving. he forces a grin—shaky, stretched thin like fraying rope—and manages, “h-hi.”

his voice cracks in the middle like a boy in love. a boy in trouble.

“the shells fit nicely!” you call, hands floating over the water’s surface as you paddle closer. “they’re a little snug, but very shiny. i like them.”

his brain just stops.

“i—i figured you’d—uh—you didn’t have to actually—I was just—just teasing—”

his words trip over each other like drunken sailors on a tipping deck. his hands flap helplessly in front of him, like he can push the moment away through sheer air resistance.

you blink, thoughtful. your tail flicks behind you under the water, sending a ripple that bumps gently against the ship. “teasing?”

he breathes in too fast and immediately regrets it, choking on his own spit. he bends slightly, hand over his chest like he might physically keep his soul from bailing.

he looks at you. really looks.

the way your brows knit together softly in confusion. the way your fingers cradle the shells like they’re delicate offerings. how your skin glows, kissed by the morning light, shimmering where droplets cling to you. how the innocence on your face is devastating.

he drags a hand down his face, fingers smearing across his cheeks. his pale strands falls over his eyes. “you’re gonna kill me.”

you look genuinely concerned. “with seashells?”

he gives a defeated nod, letting his forehead rest against the mast like he wishes it were a guillotine. “yes. exactly that.”

you hum thoughtfully, still watching him. “do humans often give shells like that to show affection?”

he chokes again. this time, violently.

“w-what?! n-no, i mean—sometimes? not like—i wasn’t—it’s not—”

you smile, pleased with the answer you’ve crafted from his gibberish. “then i’ll treasure them. thank you again, satoru.”

you say his name like it’s a charm, a secret tied to your tongue.

he might actually die.

[luvyeni]

🪽… ( reaction ) have you ever tried this one ? ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 스트레이키즈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ straykids favorite positions to fuck you in  ヾ

boyfriend!스트레이키즈・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ unprotected sex, oral sex ( F ), dirty talk, nsfw links. wc ・‎ ‎1.2k ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 tried something new today and added links no i cant make longer drabbles for any of these …

﹙ 𐙚 : bangchan ﹚ .ᐟ

wants you to feel all of him; he wants to be as deep as he can possibly be, that’s why nine times out of ten chan will have you folded in a mating press, stretching you out with his big cock. “fuck!” you screamed as the man above you fucked into you , holding your legs up to your chest. “deeper please.” no matter how deep he is , you want more — you want him to breed you. “fuck baby im already in your guts, how deep do you want me.” he grunted, feeling his cock twitch inside you. “want me to breed this pretty pussy.” you scream out, answering his question. “fuck yes!” moaning out feeling your cunt tightening around him. “sh-shit , that’s what you want? for me to fill this pretty pussy?” you moaned. “fu-fuck yes chan.” you moaned out. “fuck im gonna cum.” he hissed.

“gonna cum inside this pretty pussy.”

﹙ 𐙚 : lee know ﹚ .ᐟ

we all know lee know is an ass man, he’s revealed this on numerous occasions. when he fucks you, he wants you ass up so he can watch your ass recoil against him. “that’s it.” cursing , holding your hip with one hand , rutting into you. “shit keep moving that ass.” he was hypnotized by the way your ass moved. “fuck minho!” you screamed into the pillow. “fuck don’t stop.” he didn’t either , the grip on your waist tightening as he moved his hips faster. “fuck I’m gonna cum.” he breathed out. “gonna fucking cum.” he groaned , pulled out stroking his cock. “fuck im cumming!” he howled as he came all over your ass. “shit baby.” he slapped your ass, you helped out

“god i fucking love your ass so much.” 

﹙ 𐙚 : changbin ﹚ .ᐟ

changbin loves to show off his strength; he doesn’t spend his days in the gym just for fun. showing you how manly he his, lifting you up and fucking you in the air. your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, his hand firmly grasping your ass holding you up as he pounded into you. “oh my god changbin!” your legs dangling on the side. “fuck me!” he held you up like you were nothing. “so-so strong.” he smirked. “yo-you like that?” he stuttered out, his voice deep. “shit , you like how i can lift you up and fuck you on my fat cock. nodding dumbly, babbling nonsense. “y-yes.” he cursed , bouncing you on his cock. “pl-please be careful.” you stuttered. “do-don’t worry baby im not gonna drop you.”

“gaining these muscle just so i can fuck you like this.” 

﹙ 𐙚 : hyunjin ﹚ .ᐟ

hyunjin fucking loves morning sex , rolling over on his side , spooning you pulling your clothes down, his cock hard as a rock as slid inside you, sighing in relief. “so-so warm baby.” his sexy morning voice in your ear as his hand came up u onto your boobs , feeling up your body , squeezing your boobs. “fe-feel so nice baby.” he rutted into you. “so fucking nice , i love you so much.” his hands in between your legs, rub your clit — the sun was bleeding into the room. “hy-hyune im gonna cum.” you moaned out , he opened your legs , rutting into you harder. “cum for me princess.” letting you cum, him following right after. “sh-shit baby.” he let your legs go , kissing your neck tenderly

“good morning princess , you felt so good.” 

﹙ 𐙚 : han jisung ﹚ .ᐟ

just put him in between your legs and let him do his thing, han jisung certified munch ! he doesn’t care whether he’s on top or if you’re on top. as long as he can taste your sweet cunt and feel your soft tittes in his hands , he is in heaven. “shit baby keep doing that.” you moaned, hands tangled in his hair , pushing him deeper into your mound. “fuck more.” hips moving against your will, he was that good , lapping at your cunt. “fuck im gonna cum.” he hummed as you came on his tongue, coating his tongue. “fuck you taste so good.” he pulled away. “like candy.” he bought his fingers to his mouth, bringing them back to your slit. “wanna make you cum again.” he rubbed your bud.

“wanna make a mess of you.” 

﹙ 𐙚 : felix ﹚ .ᐟ

ride him in his gaming chair and his life is yours. he loves this shit — you “ innocently “ sitting in his lap , which ends up with you both naked , his game long forgotten as you milked him for everything he had. “sh-shit.” he held your lower back letting you do what you wanted before he pulled you flush against him , pressing down on your lower stomach. “lixie.” he squeezed your boobs. “lo-love you feel so good wrapped around me.” he moaned. “so fucking warm.” he kissed your boobs , bucking his hips up. “lix I’m gonna cum.” you whined , he rubbed your clit. “cum for me.” he whispered into your ear. “cum for me like a good girl.” releasing all over him.

the game was long forgotten after that , he was ready to make you cum all over again.

﹙ 𐙚 : seungmin ﹚ .ᐟ

you’re always on top, but he’s always in charge. his legs flat against the bed fucking up into you , his hands yanking your back , making you scream. “sl-slut.” he growled. “letting me fuck you like this , you’re so nasty.” his thrust were brutal , your ass bright red from his previous slapping. “you like being fuck like a whore?” he asked , knowing you can’t ask. “whose whore are you.” he yanked your hair. “i asked you a question , whose whore are you?” you were a mess , trying to get the words out. “yours -fuck!- im your whore minnie.” you let out a pornographic moan. “fuck I’m gonna cum.” he let your cum , holing you down as he emptied his load inside of you , holding you close to whisper in your ear.

“that’s right , you’re my whore.” 

﹙ 𐙚 : jeongin ﹚ .ᐟ

your body pressed flatly against the bed, arms pinned behind your back , jeongin kissing the sweet spot on your neck as , the kisses sweet and soft — a completely different from how deep he was inside you. “i-innie.” you babbled , he let your arms go , his hand wrapping around your neck, choking you lightly. “yo-you feel that -fuck- that’s my cock deep inside your pussy.” he grunted in your ear. “so-so deep.” he kissed your cheek. “i know baby , i know.” he moaned. “going dumb on my cock aren’t you.” your eyes rolling to the back of your head, his strokes were slow but deep. “just take it , that’s all you can do.” his hand tightening around your throat. “you can’t take it.”

“take it like a good fu-fucking girl.”

©️LUVYENI

[botanicsoul]

Knock Next Time

Timeskip | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Room: dark. Door: locked—he swore he locked it. Clothes: everywhere.

His hands were under your thighs, spreading them wider on the couch, his hips grinding against yours, both of you breathing hard and fast, lost in each other, your hands buried in his hair while his mouth was on your neck, moving lower, hungrier, rougher.

“Katsuki,” you whispered, gasping when his hips rolled against yours. “God, you feel so—”

Click.

Door opens.

“Yo, Bakugou! Have you seen my—”

Silence.

Eye contact.

Chaos.

Denki stood frozen in the apartment doorway. Bag in hand. Keys still dangling from his fingers. And eyes locked on the absolutely-naked, very-much-mid-fuck position happening on the shared living room couch.

Bakugou didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Then—death.

“DENKI, I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU.”

“OH MY GOD—OH MY GOD—”

“WHY DID YOU COME HERE?!”

“DUDE WE SHARE THIS APARTMENT!!” Denki screeched, flinging his hands over his eyes. “I SIT THERE, MAN! I EAT CHIPS THERE!”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE GONE FOR THE DAY?!”

“DO YOU KNOW HOW EXPENSIVE THERAPY IS?!”

You were desperately trying to cover yourself with a throw pillow that covered nothing, blinking in humiliation as Bakugou lunged for his hoodie and yanked it down over your body while simultaneously launching a remote control at Denki’s face.

“You don’t KNOCK, you don’t TEXT, you don’t even say you’re COMING BACK—WHAT THE FUCK, DUNCE FACE?!”

“I WAS GONE FOR TWO HOURS—I CAME BACK FOR MY PHONE CHARGER BECAUSE I FORGOT IT!!”

“WHICH IS TWO HOURS TOO SHORT AND FUCK YOUR PHONE YOU CAN CHARGE THE BITCH YOURSELF!”

Denki shrieked as a second throw pillow flew past his head and slammed the door shut. You and Katsuki sat there panting, tangled together, his hands clenched into fists like he was going to physically hunt Denki down.

You burst out laughing.

He whipped his head toward you. “The fuck is so funny?!”

You wheezed, pressing your face to his neck. “The look on his face. You could’ve cooked an egg on it.”

“He saw your tits,” he muttered, voice like gravel.

“Oh my god,” you teased, cupping his cheek. “Is the big bad Dynamight getting all possessive?”

“I’m gonna kill him,” he muttered darkly, already reaching for his phone.

You snatched it before he could text a death threat. “How about round two instead?”

His red eyes flicked to yours. Heat—instant. Rage softened into that lazy, smug smirk you knew way too well.

“Yeah,” he said, dragging you back into his lap. “He’s already traumatized. Might as well make it worth it.”

——

It was a few days after that incident, and you were both still trying to ignore what had happened.

Denki, of course, made it his very own mission to ruin your lives the moment you showed up at dinner that night. With a wide grin and the most ridiculous level of enthusiasm, he leaned toward you both, his voice way too loud.

“So, how was the private time, huh? Did you guys, uh—” he wiggled his eyebrows. “Finish what you started?”

Bakugou nearly shot up from the table, his fist clenched, ready to beat Denki’s face in.

“I WILL END YOU, YOU DENSE BASTARD—DON’T FUCKIN’ TALK TO HER.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess we’ll just have to be more careful next time.”

Denki threw his hands up. “All I’m saying is… that was way more than I bargained for.”

“Yeah?” Bakugou growled, glaring at him with murder in his eyes. “Well, you better learn how to knock. Next time, i’ll shove that charger straight up your ass.”

⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

[sinkuna]

୨୧ ― CHOSO

Choso's grip tightens, biceps flexing as he pins your spent body beneath him. The squelch of his cum oozing from your gaping hole mixes with your shaky breaths. "A-Are you alright? I didn't mean- I got carried away but you- you felt so good." he rasps, lips grazing the bite marks littering your shoulder. His cock twitches inside you, still rock-hard, shoving his seed deeper as you whimper. "You did so good for me. So good... L- let more me take care of you- get… you some water." His voice softens, a jarring contrast to the animalistic growls he'd snarled earlier while splitting you open, teeth sinking into your tits like he wanted to brand his name into your skin.

The mattress dips as he pulls out, your cunt schlucking wetly around nothing. Cold air hits your sticky thighs when he staggers to the bedside table. You hear the crinkle of your plastic water bottle from this morning, his calloused hands tilting your chin up to drink from it. But the second the bottle empties… He’s riled up again, who could blame him though? It’s the first time he’s ever fucked- first time he’s ever felt the sweet inside of your pussy wrapped around him…

His fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise as he flips you onto your stomach, "Need to breed you deeper," is all Choso says before slamming back into your sloppy hole without warning.

Your back arches as his cock rams that spongy spot inside, the slap-slap-slap of his balls against your clit reverberating through the room. Previous loads of cum froth around his thrusting shaft, the smell of sex thick enough to taste. "Going to pump you so full you'll taste it." he grunts, hips pistoning like a machine. His thumb circles your swollen clit, rough and relentless, as his other hand yanks your hair back, "Still so hungry for more."

Hours blur. The room reeks of sweat and sex, sheets tangled around your ankles. Your pussy throbs, raw and oversensitive, but Choso's obsession doesn't waver. His release floods you again, gushing hot as his teeth clamp onto your neck, "Going to keep you full of cum until it's dripping done from every hole."

When he finally collapses atop you, his cock still twitching inside your battered cunt, the sun's bleeding through the blinds. His breath gusts hot over your ear, Not… Hnngh… done," he pants, hips stuttering weakly, "Need...more."

୨୧ ― GOJO SATORU

Those piercing blue eyes bore into yours as Gojo's grip tightens, those long fingers yanking your head forward until his cock rams past your gag reflex. A wet choke rips from your throat, spit pooling under your chin as he hums in approval. His free hand palms your cheek, smearing tears across your flushed skin while his hips roll upward, forcing another inch down your poor straining esophagus.

"You can take it all. I know you can, babygirl," You try your best to nod, but his hold pins you in place, the thick veins along his shaft throbbing against your lips. The slap of his balls against your chin echoes through his room as you finally bottom out, nose crushed in his white pubes. "Such a good girl for me," he praises, holding you there as your throat contracts around him. Your jaw burns, drool soaking the carpet beneath your knees, but doesn't let up. Instead he continues grinding deeper as your throat flutters helplessly. The slick noise of withdrawal makes you gasp, but he's already shoving back in, the tip of his cock nudging past your uvula with each thrust.

love seeing the way you choke me down, pleasing me with that tight throat~" he coos, thumb hooking under your chin to force eye contact. His irises glow like arctic fire, pupils blown wide.

Your vision blurs, nails clawing at his thighs as he uses you like his personal fleshlight, your choked gags blending with his ragged breaths. When he finally pulls out, the pop of your lips releasing him, you think you’ve finally earned a break- a pause to catch your breath…

Cold air floods your raw throat as you cough, strings of saliva dangling from his flushed cock to your swollen mouth. Satoru only tuts, dragging his slobbed up length across your face. His swollen head catches your eyelid, leaving a sticky streak of saliva and precum before he smacks it against your lips, "Clean it up. Then maybe I'll let you breathe."

⋆｡˚꒰ঌ 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ໒꒱˚｡⋆

[ninisdollie]

boyfriend ni-ki thoughts 𓈒ིུ ❤︎ ˖ ݁

⁺ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❤︎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⊹　₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ͏͏✧

imagine boyfriend Ni-ki sleeping peacefully in your hyperfeminine room surrounded by all your plushies and your sweet vanilla smell while wearing his dark clothes that contrast so hard with the soft pink bedsheets he’s tangled in. his black hoodie’s riding up a little from how he’s curled around your favorite oversized bunny plush, long legs dangling off the edge of your frilly duvet because he’s too tall to fit in your bed. there’s glitter on his cheek from your throw pillows, one of your silky sleep masks pushed up into his messy hair, and your signature body spray has totally clung to him by now.

he would always mock you playfully about how you need to grow up but then later, when you’re not looking, he’d quietly slip one of your sparkly Sanrio keychains into his hoodie pocket. or that tiny bow hair clip you left on the nightstand? yeah, it ends up clipped to the corner of his speaker back at the dorm, no explanation given.

he’d never admit how much comfort those tiny pieces of your world bring him. the sweet vanilla scent clinging to the bow, the pastel charm dangling from his keys, it’s like carrying little pieces of your softness with him wherever he goes. It reminds him that even if he acts cool and detached, there’s a pink, plush-filled, heart-shaped space in his life that belongs only to you.

he would also make love to you so lovingly. he’d be so gentle with you there, in your own dreamy sanctuary where everything smells like you and feels like home. the same boy who teases you for your plushies and pastel everything suddenly turns so soft the moment he has you beneath him, surrounded by all the things that make you you.

he’d take his time, whispering things like, “you’re so pretty here, baby… look at you in your world,” brushing your hair off your face as he moves inside you like he wants to make a home out of your body too, like can’t get over how good and perfect you feel around him. his dark clothes bunched around his hips, his chrome hearts chain glinting faintly in the fairy lights as he presses kisses to your collarbones, your cheeks, your lips, treating you like the most fragile, beautiful thing in the world.

and afterward, when you’re curled up in his arms, the room quiet except for the hum of your little pink fan, he’d play with your hair and murmur, “i love being in here with you, just spending time together. it feels like home”

even in his sleep, Ni-ki’s brow is faintly furrowed like he’s dreaming about something intense, but the way he’s wrapped around your plushies like they’re you? yeah, he’s completely at peace in your ultra-girly, candy-scented sanctuary. it’s your world, and somehow this dark, brooding boy fits into it like he was always meant to.

[cupidsworstcrime]

70 Things I think about Boyfriend!Jason Todd

(f!reader)

i am so so so normal about him, I swear

1. He doesn’t bring work home

Jason has a strict no Red Hood talk in the apartment rule unless it’s absolutely necessary. You know when he’s been out rough- he limps a little, his knuckles are raw, but he’ll deflect with, “Guy at the bodega tried some shit.”

You don’t ask. He doesn’t offer. That’s the deal.

2. He’s pierced and quietly punk about it

Yeah, his ears are pierced. Probably has been since he was a teenager trying to look cool in Crime Alley. You caught him wearing your tiny silver studs one morning and when you asked about it, he grunted, “Didn’t want the holes to close.” But now? He steals them on purpose. Your favorite heart-shaped pair? Gone. He’s wearing them on patrol.

3. Jumpy as hell

You’ve learned to call his name gently if his back is to you. Sudden touches get a reaction- nothing violent, but fast. Too fast. His shoulders tense. His eyes flick to every exit like muscle memory. Sometimes he apologizes under his breath like he hates that part of himself. You just squeeze his hand and remind him he's safe here.

4. Lives on black coffee, toast, and junk unless you intervene

Left to his own devices, Jason will literally survive off diner coffee and cold toast- or worse an unholy amount of energy drinks. You started slipping protein bars and cut fruit into his bag like you were packing for a grumpy kid. He acts annoyed. He eats every bite.

5. He smells like leather, gunpowder.... and your shampoo

He started using your shampoo one day “by accident” and now he just does it on purpose. You don’t even complain because the mix of him and you is better than any perfume.

6. Stole your bracelet and won’t admit it

A dainty chain bracelet you lost months ago? It's looped around the base of one of his pistols now, dangling like a charm. When you spot it and raise an eyebrow, he just shrugs:

“Must’ve fallen into my bag.”

“You expect me to believe-”

“Guess you shouldn’t leave your stuff lying around, sweetheart.”

He’s never giving it back. That’s his lucky charm now.

7. Clings in his sleep

He’d never admit it, but he’s a stage-4 clinger. Arm around your waist, face tucked against your shoulder, legs tangled. If you get up to pee, he’ll grumble in his sleep and roll into the warm spot you left behind like a human furnace.

8. Won’t say “I need you,” but he shows it

He fixes your sink at 2 a.m. because it dripped once. He tracks your location “for safety” (but it makes him breathe easier). If you’re late texting back, he spirals internally but never shows it- just casually drops by, “coincidentally,” to check on you.

He won’t say “I need you.” But he shows it. Every damn day.

9. Sings along to old records while cleaning

You caught him once deep-cleaning his guns while singing quietly to a scratchy vinyl playing old blues rock. You didn’t say anything. Just listened. It felt like church.

10. Says “I’m not good at this” but is good at this

He thinks he’s bad at love. He thinks he’s bad at being normal. But he kisses your forehead when you’re sick, folds your laundry weird but tries, and reads the same book five times because it’s your favorite.

He’s good at love. In all the ways that matter.

11. “I love a man in leather” ruined him forever

It started as a joke- you said it with a wink, barely teasing. But Jason? He froze. Blinked. Filed it away. And then that night, lying in bed, stared at the ceiling thinking about all the tactical leather he already owned.

The next time he came home from patrol, he stood awkwardly in the doorway, helmet in hand.

“...Do you like it when I wear the jacket?”

You smirked. He blushed. And that was the beginning of the end.

12. He was pretty sure he was vanilla. He was wrong.

Jason always thought he was a “lights off, soft kisses” kind of guy. And he still is- but now there’s rope in his bedside drawer, wrist cuffs under the bed, and a vague working knowledge of Shibari. He’s not saying it’s all your fault.

But it is.

13. He only lets himself explore it with you

You’re the only one he trusts enough to see that side of him. He’s not used to feeling safe being vulnerable- even when he’s the one in control. But with you? He can breathe. He can ask. He can learn.

And when you look up at him with love and hunger in your eyes, he doesn’t feel like a monster- he feels wanted.

14. He absolutely panicked the first time he said “Good girl”

It slipped out. He didn’t plan it. He just said it in the heat of the moment and you moaned. Hard.

Jason’s brain blue-screened.

He froze for a solid three seconds and whispered, “...Did you like that?”

You nodded.

He never stopped saying it after that. Still says it like it’s sacred.

15. But outside the bedroom? He's still the shyest little freak about it

You: *teasing him at dinner with a wink*

Jason: *choking on his water and glaring at you like he’s been caught committing crimes*

You: “Baby, you literally tied me up last night.”

Jason: “Keep your voice down!”

16. Leather jacket is now permanently associated with you getting handsy

It’s your fault. Every time he wears the jacket, you get a look in your eye like you’re about to climb him like a tree.

Now he can’t put it on without a smug smirk and the quiet thought: She’s gonna pounce.

17. He’ll never go to a sex store in person, but he’s got a burner account online

Jason Todd has a burner account with expedited shipping and privacy wrapping because he’s too much of a shy little freak (to everyones suprise) to risk being seen browsing handcuffs in person.

You caught him once comparing reviews on two different floggers, reading so seriously you'd think it was a medical journal. He blushed hard when you snuck up behind him.

18. Aftercare king

No matter how dark or rough it gets, he’s the most tender man afterward. Holds you close. Kisses your shoulders. Runs you a bath and washes your hair like it’s a ritual.

“Did I go too far?”

“No, Jay. You were perfect.”

And he just melts, forehead against your shoulder, whispering: “Okay. Good.”

19. Still folds towels wrong. Still starts fake fights about it.

He'll tie you up with perfect knots but can't fold a towel for shit. You don't know how the two coexist. He’s a contradiction you’re obsessed with.

20. One time he called himself your “bad boy” and immediately cringed

He was trying to be flirty.

He meant it ironically.

He said, “You like your bad boy in leather, huh?” and then groaned halfway through it like he regretted every word.

You burst out laughing.

He kissed you to shut you up.

He's 'Bad Boy 🎀' in your phone now and he hates loves it.

21. He is so dramatic when he’s sick

This man has literally died. He’s been shot, stabbed, blown up.

But give him a head cold? And he is bedridden. Blanket burrito. Groaning like he’s on his deathbed. Whispering, “Tell Alfred… I fought bravely…” before blowing his nose with your nice hand towel.

22. “I’m fine.” - a blatant lie

He’ll cough so hard he bends over double, then straighten up like nothing happened.

“You need rest-”

“I’m fine.”

“You sound like a dying engine.”

“I’ve had worse.”

Yeah. And? That doesn’t mean he should be eating cereal for dinner and refusing to take cold meds.

23. He won’t admit it but he’s needy as hell

He doesn’t ask. Not directly. But his head ends up in your lap. He “accidentally” falls asleep curled against your side. He mumbles your name mid-fever dream, eyes fluttering open and searching for you.

You bring him soup, and he blinks at you like you’ve just saved his soul.

24. Absolutely pouts if you leave the room too long

He’ll be half-asleep, but the second you get up to do anything- laundry, pee, breathe -he’ll grunt, shift dramatically, and mumble,

“…Thought you left me to die.”

You roll your eyes. “I was gone for two minutes.”

“Could’ve been the end.”

15. He’s warm. Like a human furnace

Fevers don’t just make him sick- they make him clingy and overheat-y. He’ll wrap himself around you like a weighted blanket and then get mad when you complain about sweating.

“I’m literally melting, Jason.”

“I’m dying, but go off I guess.”

26. Gets oddly philosophical when medicated

One dose of NyQuil and he’s pondering the meaning of mortality and if souls really go to heaven.

“You think if I died again, you’d still love me?”

“Jason. Baby. Please take a nap.”

27. Claims he doesn’t remember any of it once he’s better

You mention how cute he was? The way he asked for more soup with a soft “please” and big sleepy eyes?

“I don’t recall,” he says.

You show him a video? “Deep fake.”

Catches you giggling? “You’re making shit up. I’m a menace. I don’t cuddle.”

28. But secretly? He loves how you take care of him

He didn’t get this, growing up. No one ever rubbed circles on his back or checked his temperature with a kiss. He doesn’t know how to ask for it… but god, he soaks it up when you give it anyway.

It’s healing in more ways than one.

29. When you get sick later? He panics

Oh suddenly he’s a nurse. Full-time. Soup. Blankets. Calls in favors from actual doctors he knows.

“Baby, it’s just a sore throat-”

“No. No. I’ve seen this before. It starts with a sore throat. Next thing you know, you’re in a Lazarus Pit.”

30. One time he sneezed in his helmet and you never let him live it down

He didn’t take it off in time. It echoed. It was tragic.

You laughed so hard you cried.

He glared at you with the most long-suffering expression of his life and muttered,

“This is why I work alone.”

31. He warns you the first time things get serious

It’s not the mask that’s hard to take off. It’s the shirt.

The first time you're undressing each other, he pauses, hands shaking slightly as he pulls back.

“I should warn you,” he says.

And then quieter:

“It’s bad.”

32. He avoids mirrors when he’s shirtless

Not just because of the usual trauma- but because sometimes he catches his reflection and flinches. The Y-shaped autopsy scar down his chest is brutal. Surgical. Cold.

It reminds him of what he was: a body on a slab. A lost cause.

Not a man. Not a lover. Just evidence.

33. He expects you to look away

Even as he undresses, he’s already bracing for it- for the flicker in your eyes, the pity or horror or discomfort.

He stares at the wall. Waits for the silence. Waits for the shift in the way you breathe.

34. You don’t look away. Not even a little.

Your touch is reverent. Your lips follow the trail of old scars like a prayer.

“You’re beautiful,” you say.

Jason’s chest stutters, and he doesn’t believe you- not really -but he wants to.

God, he wants to.

35. He never turns the lights on during sex. Until you ask him to.

He’s okay in shadows. He’s safe in them.

But one night, you whisper, “Let me see you,” and something in him breaks open.

He lets the light touch all the places he hides.

And your hands never flinch.

36. His scars are sensitive

Especially the big ones. Sometimes they itch. Sometimes they burn.

But when your fingers trace them? It’s grounding. Calming. Makes him feel like maybe he can own this body again.

37. One time, you kissed his chest and he teared up

He didn’t mean to. It just happened.

You didn’t say anything- just held him while he breathed through it. And that silence? That softness? It meant more than any words could.

38. You bought him a new mirror one day. He stared at it for weeks before using it.

It was taller. Nicer. Framed in soft wood. When he finally stood in front of it with you, he didn’t look away.

You stood behind him, arms around his waist, and he whispered,

“…I don’t hate it as much. When you’re in the picture.”

39. He traces your body the same way now

All the places you’re soft, he worships. All the places you’ve ever been insecure- he sees none of it.

“Look at me,” he says.

“If you can love this,” he gestures to himself, “then you better let me love you.”

40. You never treat his scars like they make him broken

Because they don’t. They make him Jason. And you wouldn’t trade a single inch of him- not the roughness, not the past, not the damage.

Because under all of it, is a heart that still dares to love you back.

And that's more beautiful than anything you’ve ever seen.

41. Letting it slip about the Waynes

One day, while in the middle of an argument (as one does), Jason just blurted it out.

“Okay, fine, maybe I was adopted by the Waynes!”

You froze.

“Wait. Hold up—WHAT?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a Wayne. Big surprise, right? Have fun with that one.”

"...BABY, FUCK YOU MEAN YOU'RE RELATED TO BRUCE FUCKING WAYNE?!?"

Jason just stares at you, clearly unprepared for this reaction.

“I-”

“JASON. WHAT. THE. FUCK.”

42. He immediately regrets saying it

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Jason wants to claw them back. He’s not ready to unpack that- it’s a can of worms he’s been keeping sealed tight.

But then there’s you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, looking at him like he just dropped the biggest bombshell.

“Shut up, okay? Just—just don’t bring it up ever again.”

But he knows that’s never going to happen.

43. He insists on not using any of Bruce’s money

The second he found out about the inheritance, Jason made it clear:

“I’ll never touch any of that money. It’s not mine.”

Bruce offered him more than enough, but Jason’s pride wouldn’t let him. He’d rather suffer on his own than take a single dollar from the man who, in his mind, could never truly be family.

Yet, when you need something- he can’t help but slip you a debit card once in a while, eyes narrowing as if daring you to question it.

44. Off-brand snacks and drinks, forever

You’re sitting at home one night, you reach for some chips, and Jason’s hand slaps yours away.

“No. Not those.”

He reaches into the pantry and pulls out a bag of “Chipperoni Crunchies,” not the name-brand chips, but the generic stuff. The ones that come in weird, colorful bags with cartoon characters on them.

“They taste better.”

You give him a skeptical look.

He just shrugs.

“They do.”

It’s the same with his drinks. He’ll turn his nose up at anything with a fancy label on it and will only go for store-brand cola that comes in an off-color can.

“You can’t taste the difference,” he insists, as he sips from a glass bottle, wiping the rim like he's a secret connoisseur of trash beverages.

45. He keeps a stash of “guilty pleasures” in your kitchen

No one else is allowed to see the true extent of his obsession with cheap snacks. If Alfred found out, he'd be disappointed. So he keeps it secret.

When you’re not looking, he’ll stockpile all of his guilty pleasure foods in your kitchen: neon-colored candy, microwave pizza, and prepackaged cupcakes with sprinkles that stick to your teeth in the worst way.

“Don’t tell anyone about this,” he mutters, but you both know it’s inevitable.

He’s just Jason. No amount of money or Wayne prestige can make him stop being Jason.

46. The first time you tease him about it, he’s defensive

You laugh at the ridiculously large bag of "fake Cheetos" he’s just brought over.

“Don’t laugh,” he growls. “They’re better, okay?”

“Really? The fake version of Cheetos?”

“It’s called being resourceful,” he grumbles, crossing his arms like he’s trying to defend his honor.

It’s just a bag of chips, but the Wayne pride is stronger than he likes to admit.

47. He will never be caught at a five-star restaurant

You’ve tried. You’ve dragged him to fancy places, tried to get him to “treat himself” to something nice.

Jason? Never steps foot in a place like that unless it's on business- and even then, he’s glaring at the rich patrons like they're the real criminals.

His idea of a perfect date? Fast food, a cheap diner, or just takeout from his favorite hole-in-the-wall pizza place. That’s his comfort zone.

48. If you ever bought him something fancy, he’d get weird about it

You got him a really nice leather jacket once- smooth, premium quality, sleek black.

He took one look at it and immediately said, “You didn’t need to get me this, babe. I’m good with my old stuff.”

But when you weren’t looking, he stroked the soft leather and secretly loved it.

The jacket still sat in his closet, perfectly untouched- just waiting for a moment when he’d admit that maybe he deserves nice things. But he’s not there yet. Not really.

49. He low-key loves your "bougie" (normal) snacks, but won’t admit it

You try to introduce him to your more “refined” tastes. Maybe it’s a fancy cheese, or high-end chocolate, or a real coffee drink that’s not just “instant” powder.

At first, Jason’s all about his junk food. But you catch him secretly swiping the expensive chocolate bar from the fridge.

“I hate these,” he says, but you catch the way his eyes flicker with a guilty pleasure.

“Then why do you keep eating them?”

“Shut up.”

50. He’s proud of his independence

He may hate the whole Wayne legacy, but he’s still proud of how he’s carved his own path. His tastes, his choices- even his snacks -are just another way of proving that he’s not defined by his 'family' name.

And somehow, that’s the part that makes him feel the most like himself. Not the Red Hood. Not “Wayne’s adopted son.” Just Jason Todd.

51. You call him “daddy” in front of someone- an accident to be fair

One morning, you’re in a rush to leave for work and casually call out, “Bye, daddy!” out of habit before heading out the door. You don’t even think twice about it.

But when you shut the door, you turn and see Damian sitting on the couch, looking at you like you’ve just committed the most cardinal sin.

Silence fills the room as you realize what you've done.

Jason, meanwhile, is trying not to laugh while Damian stares him down, and there's a whole "You told her to call you that?" conversation that never gets resolved. Damian just gives Jason the side-eye for the next few days.

52. The first time you meet his family- Oh boy…

When Jason finally takes you to meet his family, you almost choke at the sight of that massive, impressive mansion.

You’d been hearing about them for a while, but nothing could prepare you for the pure opulence of the place.

Jason, trying to play it cool, introduces you to his siblings. But deep down, you can see the unease in his eyes. He’s hoping his siblings don’t completely embarrass him in front of you.

Spoiler: they totally do.

53. Jason’s siblings stealing you away to tell you embarrassing stories

Once they know you’re there, his siblings (usually the most asshole-ish ones) quickly whisk you away to the kitchen or garden, telling you the most embarrassing Jason Todd fucked up stories.

One talks about the time he tried to sneak out as a kid and got stuck in a tree for an hour. Another shares the story of when he lost a bet to Damian and had to wear pink for a week and he cried.

By the end of it, you’re laughing so hard, you can’t tell if Jason’s going to explode or just sit there trying not to die of embarrassment.

54. Jason’s family finds out you’ve been living together for a year- a whole year?!

At a family dinner, you and Jason casually mention you’re planning on moving apartments soon.

That’s when his siblings drop the bombshell.

“Wait, you’ve been living together for a year and never told us?”

Jason looks at them like he’s been caught in a mildly embarrassing situation. “What’s the big deal? It’s not like I owe you a rundown of my life.”

His family is way too interested now, and Jason tries to play it cool, but you both know it’s one of those awkward moments that will haunt him for years to come.

55. Jason’s protective side when it comes to his family and you

If his siblings start messing with you too much or saying anything too embarrassing, Jason’s response is instant.

“Knock it off. You wanna deal with me?”

He doesn’t threaten them, but the way he says it? Yeah, they take a step back.

And when it’s just the two of you later, he’s like, “If they ever make you uncomfortable, I swear, I’ll-”

You reassure him, but you appreciate how seriously he takes your comfort with his family.

56. Jason buys you a ridiculously expensive gift, but it’s low-key, and you’re both uncomfortable

One night, Jason comes home and hands you this insanely expensive necklace with a diamond 'J' charm—way out of your usual price range.

"What's this?" you ask, giving him a confused look.

“Just... because,” he says, scratching his head awkwardly. “I saw it and thought you’d look good wearing it.”

You’re immediately touched, but you can tell Jason’s acting a little weird about it. It's one of those moments where he wants to spoil you, but his pride gets in the way.

57. Jason finds it way too easy to spoil you now though

At first, he fought it. He thought, “Nah, I’m not the type to just throw money around.”

But now? Oh, now it’s second nature.

If you even hint at something you want, Jason’s on it like white on rice.

He knows the moment you mentioned a new phone, you’re gonna find it waiting for you at home. Because Jason was already ahead of the game.

58. His family doesn’t understand his quiet obsession with you

At some point, his siblings ask him directly, “So... when are you gonna admit you’re in love with her?”

Jason almost chokes on his drink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But everyone knows. His family can see how he softens around you, how he’d do anything to make sure you’re comfortable and happy.

And Jason’s so not used to this, so he just acts all defensive about it, even though his family’s already figured it out.

59. Jason doesn’t actually talk about his family that much

It’s not that he’s embarrassed. It’s just that Jason doesn’t want you to see him through the lens of his family’s wealth and drama.

Sometimes he lets little things slip, but mostly, he keeps his family life under wraps.

He doesn’t need you to like them. He just wants you to like him, and to him, that’s what matters most.

60. Jason’s family low-key approves of you

Despite all the chaos, his family starts to realize that you’re a good match for Jason. You challenge him, make him laugh, and somehow manage to keep him grounded when his ego gets out of hand.

At the end of the day, they know he’s better with you.

That doesn’t stop them from occasionally teasing him, of course, but they can see what he sees in you.

61. Jason panics to pick the perfect ring

Jason spends days- days -agonizing over the perfect ring. It’s not that he doesn’t know what you’d like, it’s just that this is a huge decision. He doesn’t want to screw it up. So, of course, he recruits his sister for help, who takes you out on a ‘girls day’ to get your nails done and do some shopping. You have no idea why, but Jason’s silently breathing a sigh of relief the whole time as she helps pick out a ring that he’s sure will make you say yes.

62. Jason cries while talking to his brothers

Jason never thought he’d be talking about marriage to anyone- let alone his brothers. But here he is, pacing back and forth in front of them, confessing that he’s about to propose. And he's... crying. Not because he's weak, but because he's terrified. “I’m actually doing this,” he whispers, shaking his head. “I’m about to propose to the woman I love. Holy shit, I’m actually doing it.”

His brothers? They’re all smiles and a little bit of laughter, making fun of him, but deep down, they know this is a big step for him, and they support him.

63. Jason gets on one knee, and you don’t say anything

When he finally proposes, it’s simple. In the park where you had your first date. Jason goes down on one knee, holding the ring out in front of you, but you’re so quiet that for a second, he thinks you’re going to say no. Panic sets in, and then you start sobbing, whispering over and over, “Yes, yes, yes.”

Jason’s heart nearly explodes, and he kisses you right there, the world disappearing around you both.

64. Hes... a dad?

A few months after the proposal, you show him the ultrasound picture, and Jason freezes, his eyes tracing the dates. He counts back, and a realization hits him like a ton of bricks. “Oh fuck,” he mutters to himself, panic rising. “That was the night we-”

It takes him a minute, but he’s almost certain. That was the night you conceived. It’s terrifying, yet beautiful, but he’s more scared than he’s ever been. He wants to be a dad, but can he actually do it?

65. Jason moves the wedding date up

Jason may not be traditional, but once he found out about the baby, he made a decision. The wedding date was moving up. He wasn’t going to have his daughter born to parents who weren’t married, and damn it, he wasn’t waiting any longer. He wants to make sure that little girl has the kind of family he never had growing up.

66. The wedding is simple but perfect

The wedding is small and simple, just how Jason wanted it. His brothers are both his best men, and they give him so much shit about it, but Jason wouldn’t have it any other way. You agree to let his sister be your maid of honor, and though there are a few moments of tension, everything falls perfectly into place. Jason, in his suit, looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters. You both say your vows, and there’s no turning back now.

67. Jason holds his newborn and sobs

When you give birth to his daughter, he holds her in his arms for the first time, and Jason just breaks. He’s never been so overwhelmed in his life. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and when he presses her tiny body against his chest, he cries. Big, ugly, full of love tears. "I’m gonna protect you with everything I’ve got," he whispers. "I promise."

68. The Wayne family spoils her rotten

It’s not surprising that Jason’s daughter gets spoiled by the entire Wayne family. Every time they visit, she gets showered with gifts, new clothes, toys she doesn’t even know what to do with. Jason watches it all with a soft smile, knowing how much this little girl is going to be loved and protected. They can spoil her as much as they want, because she’s his little princess.

69. Jason being the ultimate girl dad

It’s her fourth birthday, and Jason’s letting his daughter paint his face with play makeup, sitting there patiently as she dabs the brush all over his face. It’s the kind of moment that makes Jason feel like the luckiest man alive. He’s so in love with her. No matter how messy or goofy things get, he wouldn’t change a thing. She’s his little girl, and he’ll cherish every second.

70. Jason Todd has never been happier

As chaotic and sometimes overwhelming as his life has been, nothing compares to this moment. Sitting on the couch with his daughter on his lap, his arms around you, Jason can’t help but think that this? This is happiness. The love he never knew he needed has found him, and for the first time in a long time, he feels like everything is right. He’s a husband, a father, and for the first time in his life...

He feels at home.

And that leather jacket you got him years ago? He's finally wearing it.

RAHHHHHHHH I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT HIM

[sugarcherris]

Headcanon: Ghost Watches You Sleep (But It’s… not in a cute way)

Gn reader x ghost, ghost is a creep…but what’s new? Suggestive themes. 18+ mdni. You threatened to lick Simon’s eyeballs. You’re just so done with him.

You’ve gotten used to a lot of things in this relationship.

The tactical gear dumped at the foot of the bed like a body.

The skull balaclava dangling from the coat rack like a cursed relic.

The knives tucked beneath your shared pillows like bedtime buddies.So many knives. Tucked in your underwear drawer, one time in the freezer for reasons you’ll never ask.

But what you haven’t—cannot—adjust to… is waking up to the deranged, soul-penetrating gaze of one Simon “Ghost” Riley.

He doesn’t sleep when you’re around.

Not because you snore.

Not because you sprawl.

(Though you’ve absolutely elbowed him in the chest and groin, and once, mid-dream, dug two fingers so deep into his nostrils he gagged.)

No—he doesn’t sleep because he’s watching you.

Studying you.

Memorizing every twitch of your eyelid like it’s scripture.

Like full-on, creepy Victorian ghost-in-the-corner style.

You’ll be deep asleep, drooling slightly into the pillow, limbs tangled in the blanket like a noodle in a colander, and this man is just hovering.

Perched—elbows on his knees, hands together, forehead slightly tilted down, dead silent, just drilling holes into your face. He’s doesn’t breathe. Possibly not even alive. He looks like a victorian ghost who learned about love from taxidermy.

He just squatting there.

Besides your bed.

Like a gargoyle.

Mask still on.

Half-dressed.

His eyes are unblinking under that damn skull balaclava. Eyes locked on your sleeping face like he’s decoding the coordinates of your dreams. Like if he stares long enough, he’ll enter your dreams.

Join you in them. Colonize them.

It’s the third time this week.

You stir awake from your dreams of jellybeans and explosions, but you feel something in your spine first—the primal sixth sense. The “there’s a large man-shaped entity breathing in sync with your REM cycle” kind of dread.

Your eyes cracking open to find… yep.

And there he is.

Staring.

Lovingly?

Motionless.

British.

You blink. He doesn’t.

You blink again. Still no reaction.

“…Hi,” you whisper, voice croaky. Trying to register if this was another dream, or a sleep paralysis demon.

He nods solemnly like he’s been expecting you to wake and holds steady eye contact.

“You muttered something about cheese. I was intrigued.”

You groan. Slide towards him.

In a dramatic act of love and exasperation. You cup his masked face and smoosh a loud kiss right where his stupid cold nose should be. Mwah.

“Go sleep, you’re scaring off the spirits.”

“Wanted to make sure you weren’t kidnapped in your sleep.”

You blink. “By who? Bed bugs?”

He shrugs. “Could be sleeper agents.”

“You are the sleeper agent and possibly the cause of my kidnapping.”

Then, like a fed-up grandparent tucking in an unruly toddler, you reach up. And manually push his heavy, stubborn eyelids closed with 2 of your fingers like you’re powering down a weird haunted animatronic possess by an eldritch demon from Manchester.

“There. Did you know normal people usually do this when it’s bedtime?”

…

POP. Open again. No hesitation.

You pause. Try again. Shut those brown eyes like elevator doors.

He lets you close them this time. You start to relax—

POP.

His eye widening as if to mock you.

“…I swear to God,” you mutter, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at his head. It hits him with a dull thud, and he doesn’t even flinch.

“Keep it up, Riley,” you threaten, voice dry, “and I’m gonna lick your eyeballs. Unmask you and tongue your corneas. One by one. Slow. Wet. ”

You expect horror. Maybe act offended.

Instead—

He beams.

“Fffuckin’ hell.”

His hand twitches toward his crotch.

This sick bastard lighting up. Like you just proposed. Like you just whispered the filthiest fantasy known to man. His shoulders tensing. You can feel the arousal radiating off him like a dirty microwave.

You’ve never seen someone perk up at the threat of eyeball licking.

“…How thorough we talkin’?” he purrs under his mask, voice rough, low, and so horribly interested it should be illegal.

“What—”

“Go on then,” he murmurs, voice wrecked. “Do it. Lick ‘em. Left one’s sensitive. Right one’s for dessert.”

“You’re disgusting,” you hiss.

He leans in closer—breath hitching, a raw, frayed rasp sliding from behind the mask, voice barely human.

“Use tongue,” he breathes, soft . “Nice n’ slow.”

You throw another pillow at him so hard it knocks the lamp off the table.

He doesn’t even flinch.

Pupils blown wide.

Cock likely leaking beneath his jeans. Probably been hard since the moment you stirred awake.

He is pervertedly euphoric

This man has no boundaries. None. You threaten ocular assault and he’s ready to write his will and hand you the deed to his soul.

He calls it “foreplay.”

You call it “psychological warfare.”

Eventually you flop back onto the mattress, defeated. Curling up tight. Trying to sleep again, knowing full well he’s still staring.

Plotting.

Daydreaming.

Probably imagining if your eyeballs would taste like strawberries…

…or sin.

You shut your eyes tight just in case he decides to lick first.

[bi-writes]

idk just thinking about seeing your lieutenant for the first time, this big giant dog of a man, and thinking to yourself, "hmmm yeah, i'm gonna make that thing mine." (18+)

like. i'm thinking about seeing him walk into the room for the first time. fresh off an op, still in all his gear. he's angry cause he's been awake off and on for 40 hours at this point, and he sinks down into a chair in the mess hall, and your eyes bug cause the chair fucking bends with his weight.

and you're just like "omg omg omg holy shit" cause this fucking brute is just huge and beefy, and you had no idea this was your type until you watched his hand curl around a cup and make it look miniature. and you're wondering like "fuck i bet those holsters are custom made" cause you don't think you've ever seen them stretch that far around someone's thigh.

ughghghghgh, and he's dumb as shit, too, or maybe he's just fucking blind. you give him every hint in the book, every indication of how you feel other than pasting a giant neon sign on your forehead that says "fuck me."

you wear the tightest cargo pants you can get. you let the buttons on your shirts go low whenever he's near. you make excuses to see him late, delivering him paperwork in the middle of the night, meeting him out for a smoke (and he's never seen you smoke anything), shuffling your way in front of him in line so you can bump into him and graze your ass against his front. he even catches you this way--even curls his hand around your waist and steadies you before letting you go impatiently.

fuck, bending over in front of him, the obnoxious giggling, the excuses to dangle your tits in his face. you want this man underneath you, on top of you, tangled around you and suffocating you with those enormous arms, and he barely side-glances at you whenever you're in his vicinity, and it's infuriating.

what do you have to do to reel this thing in? how many bones do you have to give him?

how many times do i have to flash my bra at you for you to fuck me over your desk?!

you can't eat another cherry in front of him. you can't drop more sauce onto your cleavage. you cannot come out of the showers in just a towel in front of him anymore because you're going to lose your fucking mind--

you even made out with his beloved little sergeant, his favorite little know-it-all that can't stop blowing shit up. that blue-eyed, insufferable, yapper of a scot that kisses all wet, with teeth, who pants like a puppy when he asks if he can 'ave a taste of y'r bonnie cunt, please, please, please--

and you say yes, because maybe he'll finally fucking shut up if you drown him between your thighs and never let him come up for air.

face down, ass up, cargos around your ankles, hips pushing past against that puppy's stubble as he devours you on his knees. his big hands spread your ass for him, and his thumbs flick over your folds as he opens you up, a cackle leaving him before he opens his mouth wide and kisses your pussy all sloppy and uncoordinated.

when the door swings open and hits the wall with a bang, the puppy tries to leave. he tries to move, but you reach back and grip his mohawk, scowling as you shove his face back where it belongs as your lieutenant stands at the door and heaves with anger.

"uh uh," you snap, and your sergeant on his knees whines, his blue eyes a little foggy and wet as he blinks up at you. but he complies, his tongue slurping, and you flutter your lashes at your lieutenant as you keep johnny muzzled in your cunt. "sorry, lieutenant. is this your office? must've read the sign wrong."

you reel from the contact. a big hand grips you by the hair, slamming you down against his desk, and you choke as you try and gasp for air. like a good boy, johnny settles where he is, shoving his tongue down your hole and moaning low when he realizes you're dripping down his chin now that his lieutenant has you.

"y'think this is funny, eh?" ghost mutters in your ear. "y'think i don't know wot y'r doin'? think i 'aven't caught on, think i 'aven't noticed wot a fuckin' insatiable bloody pain in my arse you've been ever since y'got 'ere?!"

you whimper, relaxing against the desk, and ghost tugs at your hair again, shaking his head.

"oi! y'don't get to be stupid just because y'r gettin' y'r cunny played with," ghost snaps. "y'r a right headache."

you laugh, getting up to your elbows, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as ghost scruffs johnny by the base of his mohawk and cups your pussy with one big hand. you gasp, leaning your head back, because finally, yes, it's all i want, please, please, please--

"'f you wanted to be my pet so bad," ghost murmurs, fitting himself behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he spits into your ear, "all ya had to do was fuckin' ask, swee'eart."

when your eyes open, ghost hums, clicking his tongue under the mask.

"use y'r words," he growls. "be a good girl, and say wot it is y'want."

"want you," you whine, and he sighs deeply, closing his eyes, and you drown out the sounds of johnny sputtering at your feet as ghost bends you at the hip a little more, arching your back.

"mmm...tha'sit. was tha' so hard?"

[everrinsly]

life with sae.

where he ruins you bare... except for the anklet he handpicked.

anklet with sae. smut. nsfw. very suggestive. mature. mdni. fem!reader. | not proofread.

more life with sae here!

more reads!

ᯓ⚽ᯓ⚽🩷

You don’t know what’s gotten into Sae lately—

Maybe it’s the fact that he’s been away for games. Just static hotel rooms and hours of pent-up tension with only the sound of your voice over the phone to keep him sane—all soft and sweet, whispering sleepy I miss you's.

Maybe it’s those video calls. The ones where you’re curled up on his side of the bed, wrapped in his hoodie, hugging his pillow like it’s your whole world—your face filling the screen, eyes all bright and shiny.

Maybe it’s that you’ve been wearing his shirts too often. Photos of sleepy mirror selfies in his oversized jerseys, his name stretched across your back, collar slipping off your shoulder like a sinful invitation, bare thighs peeking out beneath the hem—smiling like you don’t know you’re ruining him from halfway across the world.

Or maybe it’s just you—dripping for his attention, duly spoiled, the only person he lets himself feel for, the only one who touches the version of him no one else gets to see.

—because tonight?

He buys you an anklet.

It’s thin gold and barely-there. A tiny charm dangles from it—delicate, tasteful, expensive; it's a small S engraved into a flat coin that glints when you move, like a secret meant just for him. Just subtle enough that no one else would notice. 

No one except him. 

You barely have time to admire it before he’s already peeling your clothes off, whispering, “Don’t need anything else. Just wear this.”

So now?

You’re naked, trembling and flushed. He drags his palm down the length of your body, tracing the dips of your waist, the curves of your hips. Your legs are spread, knees hooked over his broad shoulders—greedy, aching, begging for more.

The anklet captures the low glow of the bedside lamp and sways right by his head.

His is cock buried deep in your soaked cunt as he fucks you into the plush mattress, slow but hard.

And he’s obsessed.

“Fuck—look at that,” Sae groans, eyes locked on your left ankle where the S dangles against your skin. “You hear that? That little chime?”

Clink-clink.

He wants to see it move when he fucks you.

He wants the sound of your moans tangled with the soft, delicate chime of metal.

The dainty gold charm taps against itself every time he thrusts into you—steady and purposeful, rolling his hips so deep you swear he’s hitting your soul.

“That’s mine,” he growls. “That sound? That’s mine. It only happens when I’m inside you like this. You got that, baby?”

Your mouth falls open in a broken moan, all helpless and ruined.

“You know,” he murmurs, voice low and dangerous, “when I bought this…”

He presses a soft kiss to your calf, then your shin—hands grazing slowly up your thighs.

“…I thought it’d look good with heels. Maybe with one of your pretty dresses.”

He leans in, kissing your ankle, tongue darting out to lick the gold S.

“But this?” His lips brush the charm again. “You. Naked. Wearing nothing but this—”

He sucks in a breath.

“—fuck, baby. I think this might be the best thing."

His rhythm stays slow—sensual, unrelenting, dragging out every inch, letting you feel the weight of him, the stretch of him. Your thighs twitch from anticipation, pussy swollen and sensitive from overstimulation. Your ankles are still over his shoulders, legs are still trembling, back still arched prettily as your body welcomes him in again and again.

Your vision is blurred, but you notice a soft twinkling as you shift with his movements.

That damn anklet—

The sound it makes—the soft little tink, the jingle every time he thrusts in—drives him insane.

—Sae doesn’t wait.

He pulls all the way out, then slides in deep, thrusts all the way to the hilt, and your breath breaks.

“Oh—S-sae—y-yes, please—”

“That’s it,” he hisses, grinding his hips into yours. “That sound—”

Clink.

The charm taps against your skin with every thrust.

“—that’s all I wanna hear. Your moans. And that pretty little jingle while I ruin this pussy.”

He pulls out again. Slow. Just to feel how soaked you still are. Then slams back in. Hard.

The anklet bounces.

Clink.

You whine, loud and broken.

“Yeah? You like this?” he grits, driving in deeper, rougher, lifting your hips toward him. “You like being laid out like a fuckin’ gift? Like wearing my initial while I fuck into you?"

Your answer is a sob. A moan. A twitch in your belly. Because that's all you can offer.

“That’s what I thought,” he growls, licking up your thigh. “Fucking made for me. Dripping. Look at this cunt.”

He pounds into you now—cock hitting deep, every harsh thrust makes your breath stutter. His hips roll in and out with precision, stroking every sweet, swollen spot inside you. He bends over you, pressing you into the mattress, your legs still folded high over his shoulders—the anklet swinging, sparkling, catching the light as he fucks you filthy.

You can barely breathe. The angle’s brutal, too deep, and the pressure makes your thighs quiver and your head spin.

But Sae's still talking.

“You hear that?” he pants into your ear.

The anklet chimes again.

Clink-clink.

“That’s the sound I’m gonna get off to when I’m away. Gonna play this in my head on the fucking plane. Picture you like this—spread open, wet, crying my name with this little thing shaking on your ankle.”

You cry out. He slams in.

"You gonna come for me?” he whispers, lips brushing your throat. “C’mon, princess. Soak my cock.”

And when he trails a hand down to press on your stomach, you do. You lose it. it's loud and messy, your moans echoing, charm clinking wildly as your legs spasm around his neck. Your thighs clamp down on his shoulders, limbs shaking under the force of your high. Your cunt flutters, clenches, milks him like a vice.

Sae groans, dark and low, and fucks you through it, pushing deep once more before he finally spills inside you, hot and heavy and endless.

The charm swings gently and settles.

The room goes quiet.

Your body twitches.

He leans in, presses a kiss to your ankle, lips brushing the chain.

“You’re wearing this every time I fuck you,” he breathes, eyes dark and wild. “Understand, baby?”

Because he wants every chime to echo—like a promise: you’re his.