#~devils lap cat~

[iron-hearts-ablaze]

Plotted starter with @dvilsdesire

Karlach often felt she was only a part of this group for her prowess on the battlefield. Because it certainly wasn't to have her insight on the likes of Devils and their ilk. How in all the Nine Hells did she manage to be stuck in a camp with an incubus? And not just any incubus; Raphael's personal pet. The very idea of this creature prowling around their tents filled her with disdain.

She didn't believe a word from his mouth - and certainly not from Raphael's. No-one should. Devils are only ever out for something to gain, not from the goodness of protecting even each other. Let alone others. Karlach could barely sleep. Not only was she used to little sleep from living in a day-less horror scape, but also due to her excessive paranoia. She needed answers... And Haarlep was going to give them up whether he wanted to or not. Karlach knew how this would go. Incubi were slippery creatures, but Haarlep was not the first she dealt with.

Once everyone else was seemingly asleep, or at least out of sight, Karlach approached Haarlep's tent, axe in hand and a bloodlust in her eyes. "You know who I am. What name I made for myself in that cesspit of shit. You know what I'm capable. So...are you going to play nice and answer my questions, or am I gonna have to show you how I got the name Demonsbane?" Karlach snarled.

[teddybeartoji]

actually idk if rin would see me as a cat hmmm

[invincibledc]

Toddler!Al-Ghul Twins meeting Toddler!Jon and the super is already clingy and sweet with Twin!Reader (Dami trying to bite and hit him off his sibling)

Get off my Sibling!

Pair: Toddler! Twin!Al-Ghul Twins x Toddler!Jon

Summary: When a certain super gets so clingy, that a twin is annoyed.

It was an average play date with the twins. You and Damian being held by Tim who smiled at Kon who held the shy boy with blue eyes. Kon and Tim put you three down at the sam time. Watching what you both will do.

What first happened as you rushing to Jon with a wide smile, “Hi. I’m Y/N! What’s your name.” You smile at the boy whose eyes seemed to light up at your approach. “I…I’m Jon..” he held his tiny hand out to you. You giggle holding his hand and shaking it.

“Nice to meet youuu!” Damian held a scowl on his chubby face as he stood beside you. Glaring at Jon who seemed to immediately cling to you.

Jon and you started to play around, most of the time when playing, Jon held his hand in yours and even wrap his arm around yours.

Jon was rubbing his cheek against yours still Damian hit Jon in the middle of his face. “Ouch!” Jon yelped and moved from you. But Damian pushed the poor boy from you, hugging you as he glared at Jon like an evil cat. Jon pouts and pushes Damian back.

You yelled for Tim, making Damian get put into timeout as you and Jon continued to play as Damian planned to destroy Tim’s comics when he gets home.

After a few more games with Jon, you both finished playing hide and seek when Damian is out of timeout. Walking to the play pen, watching you with a neutral look.

You got easily tired and laid down on the floor of the pen, Damian’s eyes light up as this was his moment to cling to his twin. Damian sped over with a wide smile on his face before Jon had super speed onto you. Laying his small toddler baby onto you, laying his head into your chest.

Damian felt an arrow struck his heart, his pouting with a deep scowl as his green eyes stared into Jon’s blue eyes. You softly snored not caring in the world. Your breathing soothing Jon who closed his eyes.

Without hesitation, he pulled at Jon’s black hair. Jon jolted with a yelp as he tries to pull from the hold of Damian.

“Off my sissy/bubba! Off! Off!” Damian chanted as he grit his teeth. Pulling Jon’s hair more.

“No! No!!!!” Jon cries as Tim and Kon. rushed in confused but alerted.

“Damian no!” You woke up to Tim trying to pull Damian from Jon’s hair as Damian screamed like the devil he is. Jon was still crying and holding onto his hair as Kon was nervously looking at Tim.

“What do you guys feed that little thing!?”

“I don’t know?! I’m so sorry Kon..” “it’s fine Tim.”

Damian was soon off of Jon and huffed his chubby cheeks. But then, he lays his head onto your lap. You nervously fiddle with your small fingers. “Dami…” you say softly as you looked at Jon who sniffled. He just wanted to be by you… he loves your heartbeat.

Damian huffs, not even wanting to talk as he closes his eyes. Jon waited a few minutes before walking over to you and sitting down quietly. You looked at Jon who smiled sweetly at you with a hint of blush on his cheeks.

Jon hugs you from around your neck as you lean against him. But sadly you both didn’t notice a jealous twin who glares at Jon.

Opening his mouth as he sat up, he gets ready to attack.

“DAMIAN NO!” Tim yelled as he runs over to the small demon.

There were no more play dates til Damian learned how to share you.

[bambisnc]

      KISS A KITTY   wherein % your bf is jealous . .

            ST✮RRING───Y.JW ☘️ 744 && WR. none! ˖ ✧

[ 陰 ♡ ] : im THE "save a cat and kiss jungwon" agenda truther

                        𝖢𝘓𝗂𝖢𝖪     🖇. 𝗀𝗈 𝗍𝗈 𝙁𝗶𝗟𝗘 ᰈ̠ 𝖭𝘈𝖵𝗂

yang jungwon likes cats. usually.

they’re cute. adorable. the picture of playful innocence, even, one might say. 

pft. yeah, right.

that was one propaganda your boyfriend was not falling for.

the tabby kitten you'd taken in as a new member of your apartment was anything but innocent.

why else would that tiny little creature that you had christened sir meowington, the third be so intent upon stealing all of your attention from its rightful owner, i.e. jungwon?.

he’s certain sir meowington’s doing it on purpose, the cunning devil. 

and you keep falling for its antics.

jungwon would be annoyed at you if it wasn’t for the fact that the way you fussed about the kitten and its whereabouts made his heart melt. 

but! he’s still very firmly against the kitten’s presence. all the little menace has to do is swipe his paw “cutely” in your direction for you to pull out your phone and devote yourself to taking 10+ pictures of it per second.

which is the exact moment wherein your boyfriend decides something must be done to fight back. 

his best (and only) idea at that particular moment however, is a staring battle. sir meowington doesn’t back down, though, green eyes firmly fixed towards his own. 

the two of them seem to be one step away from communicating and you almost can’t stifle your giggles at the scene. jungwon directs an expression towards you which is so utterly betrayed that it finally makes you laugh out loud.

“stop that.” he mutters in response to the sound, sounding only slightly defensive.

easily ignoring the plea, you scoop up sir meowington from where he’d been settled on the carpet. then sitting down on the sofa next to jungwon, you hold up the kitten in front of him, not unlike that scene from lion king, the movie. “do you need to have a little chat with sir meowington?”

“no,” he looks contemptuously at the feline’s green eyes and then back up at you,  “i most certainly do not.”

“then, do you mind stopping staring at the poor baby? you’re scaring him.”

he scoffs. of course you’d take the kitten’s side. did you not understand that he needed to assert his dominance?

“assert your dominance?”

and you’re laughing at him again. oh, damn, did jungwon say that out loud? oops.

“i think i will in fact be taking sir meowington’s side if you’re gonna be this dramatic about the whole situation.”

“i’m not being dramatic! and you just don’t get it. this creature,” jungwon points accusingly at the tiny fur ball now positioned comfortably on your lap, “is an evil mastermind.”

you’re too busy biting your lip to stop your continued laughter to be able to deign that with an appropriate answer. 

your boyfriend is still staring down at said offending ‘evil mastermind” with all the conviction of the world when the kitten yawns.

yawns.

the audacity.

it’s like jungwon’s being mocked.

“oh i know what this is about,” you pipe up, scratching sir meowington’s head lightly as he purrs contentedly at the action, “you’re jealous!” 

your boyfriend stiffens beside you, wordless.

“jungwon. you’re actually jealous of a kitten?”

he just looks away. how adorable. you’re gonna have fun with this.

“baby,” you lean into his side, resting your head on his shoulder so he doesn’t see the amusement on your face, “did you want some attention too?”

“yes.” he replies a tad bit too fast but he really couldn’t care less right now. “... i’m so much cuter.”

“hm… that’s debatable!...” you tease, yet still lean upwards to press a kiss to his cheek.

he lets out a low gasp, as if scandalized at the mere thought that you could possibly find sir meowington cuter than him. before he can retort however, 2 things happen which distract him completely.

one, the kitten which had been so far laying on top of your thigh, stretches languidly—smugly, with ease—and two, it then promptly proceeds to pad over to jungwon, curling into a ball on his lap instead. 

you coo at the sight yet again, “aww, see he does like you. not so evil now, is he?” 

he just rolls his eyes. this is obviously just another new tactic, duh.

but for now, jungwon will make his peace. it would be hard not to, really, with how warm and fuzzy he feels with you cuddled up into his side and … the tiny creature who, admittedly, is rather cute. 

fuck, he was not supposed to fall for this propaganda.

𐙚 . regulars : @chrrific @jessxxxfwd @evanesceki @soobundle1009 @weedatthegasstattion @flipitkickit @douqhnxtss @soona-huh @amoressb @nicholasluvbot @manariee @rinrinninnin @ddeonuswife @douqhnxtss @lovenha7 @amatariki @i-am-not-dal @liyahhhh620 @elleetlalune @eunwonji @s0shroe @wensurr @unhakies @starniras @calabaeri @athenaisonlinee @weepingsweep @itsactuallylina ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k25

[pixie-felix]

a/n: inspired by @hyunjinx42 (specifically this), suggested by @arestoucries

-as you sink down on his c*ck after a long day of work- @hyunjinx42

Just a short little something something to try break feed the absolute chokehold Railway Chan has us all in. Inspired by @hyunjinx42, suggested by @arestoucries. As always, smut under the cut, minors dni.

Content warnings: breeding kink, daddy kink, size kink, ancient vine references (just the one, let me know if you found, I made myself laugh and then I couldn't take it out). 1.9k

I accidentally posted this earlier today when I was still working on the draft 🤣 this is the complete version, so if you were disappointed earlier hopefully this will make up for it

T a k e a S e a t

You know exactly what Chan wants when he sits down in that chair. 

Tie loosened, hair mussed, eyes dark as he looks you over like a cat eyeing the most delicious bowl of cream.

“So, you were watching me all day.” 

“Of course I was watching you. It was your MV shoot.” You keep your voice light, but the intensity of his gaze is making you tingle all over. Not to mention the hint of the devil in his smile, quirking the corner of his mouth.

“Well, I was watching you too. Come here.” He beckons you over, that familiar come hither motion of his fingers sending a strong jolt of arousal to your belly and your mind straight into the gutter. 

It might just be because he's been playing a vampire all day but you feel powerless to resist him. Walking towards him, and that chair, like a woman hypnotised.

That devil's smirk spreads as you move into arms reach, shivering as he reaches out a hand to stroke your leg. Just the inch of bare skin, above your knee and below your skirt.

“Did you choose this outfit just for me, sweetheart?”

This outfit being a not-quite-knee-length pleated skirt, a silk shirt buttoned up to the neck, and what the fashion magazines might describe as a smart casual blazer. It's giving “slutty schoolgirl meets business casual.”

Had you chosen this outfit especially for Chan, knowing about his purity kink and the fact you'd be in his eye line but just-out-of-reach all day?

You bet Chan's sweet ass you did. 

And he knows it too, knows it in the way you shiver as he lightly runs those fingers, a barely there feather touch, up your leg. Under your skirt. Slowly, closer and closer to where all that want is bubbling in your gut.

“I thought so. Such a tease.” Under that playful tone there's something low, something dark. Something that makes itself known when scrapes his nails back down your thigh, not quite hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough that you know if you were to look there’ll be five red lines marking your flesh. Dragging his fingers away from where you want them, where you need them, taunting you with a smile that tells you he knows how your cunt is clenching over nothing.

“I wasn’t the only one watching you though, was I?” Marking. He’s fucking marking you. 

“Channie…” 

“That’s not my name.” 

“...Chris?”

“Not today sweetheart.”

Oh. Oh. 

Oh boy.

“...Daddy?”

“Good girl.” His voice is all low and growly, and he tugs you forward by your knees until you’re standing astride his lap and hands are running up the backs of your thighs again, alternately stroking and scratching as he smiles up at you. 

“Do you even know what you do to me? What it’s like having to pretend you’re not mine. Having to watch guys like that following you all day, flirting with you, eyefucking you, and not being able to do a damn thing about it?”

Ah, so that’s what this is about. Chan is jealous. You were training the director's new PA today, some guy who’s name you’ve already forgotten. And Chan is jealous. 

As if he isn’t the most gorgeous man on the planet, a professional wet dream, and your long term boyfriend who’s been dicking you down dumb for the last 4 years. 

And if he wants to talk about unfairness, let’s talk about work. Watching him film that scene today, in this very chair, where an orgy of dancers were writhing on him. In fucking handcuffs. And he was sitting there with that look on his face. Yes yes, work is work, and acting is acting, the hazards of dating an idol etc etc…

But watching your man sit with a crowd of strangers slithering on his lap, that special expression on his face you only see when you’re sinking down on his cock after a long day of work, in that goddamn chair…

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” The question is innocent, the look in Chris’ eyes is not. He's completely Chris now, all signs of sweet Chan gone, replaced by the hungry, almost feral creature that likes it when you call him daddy. “Are you thinking about all those dancers from earlier, sitting on me, touching on me…”

“Yes, Daddy…” you whisper, blush creeping across your ears. It's like he's staring right into your soul, reading your thoughts and revelling in how you put up no resistance. He can invade all your private places and you let him, you're an open book to him

“Did it drive you crazy?” His voice is a low whisper, heavy with lust and wanting. “Did you want to come and sit on my lap instead, come and claim what's yours?"

You're too turned out to speak, your voice a whimper rather than words. “Daddy… don't tease…”

He smiles slowly at you, reaching up your skirt and slowly dragging your panties down your thighs.

“Then come warm this cock my love. Daddy's been waiting all day.”

It's almost musical, the sound Chris makes as you sink down on his dick, somewhere delicious between a moan and a grunt. It's almost too much, the way he stretches you. You cling to his shoulders and hide your face in his neck as you whine, nipping at his neck as you desperately try to ground yourself.

“Mmm… so good…” Chris has his hands on your hips, guiding you until you're settled on his thighs, his cock fully sheathed inside you. “Such a good girl. So perfect for me.”

He's almost too big to fit, your pussy stuffed fuller than full, at it's absolute limit. Teetering on the cusp of what feels good and what doesn't.

He's mercifully gentle, running his hands up your back, stroking your skin in slow, soothing circles.

“You're doing so good, baby. Just relax, relax for me baby.” He hisses when you lean a little more forward, mewling into his neck into his neck and holding him tighter as the change in angle causes your pussy to spasm and stretch, barely able to bear it.

“I want.. I…”

“What do you want, babygirl?” Concern creeps into his turn, worried that maybe his dick is too big, maybe you’re not enjoying it. “Am I hurting you? We can stop if it's too much.” He presses kisses into your hair, brushing some out of your face as he tries to look you in the eyes.

“No Daddy… please don't stop. You feel… so good…” Chris sighs in relief, stroking your face tenderly. “Will you… will you…”

“Yeah, baby? What do you need?”

“I can't… I want…” You shake your hips lightly, barely moving but Chris' dick is stretching you so full it feels as intense as if he was pounding you out, hips snapping as he tried to fuck you through the mattress.

Chris makes a strangled sound, the drag of your velvety walls almost driving him to madness.

“What do you need, babygirl.” His voice is hoarse with the effort of holding still. “Just tell me. Tell me baby, please, you're driving me mad…”

“Daddy,” your voice is almost a sob, “Daddy, please… It feels so good. You feel so good, inside me…” Chris has to bite his lip to keep from swearing at how good you're making him feel. He loves is when you talk dirty.

“Baby, if you keep saying things like that…”

“Breed me, Daddy. Please. Please.” Chris presses a shaky, kiss to your lips, gentle and tender, trying to distract himself from how every single muscle in his body tenses up and he's pretty sure his balls just turned blue.

“You sure…” He has to be sure, has to check, before the last strip of his sanity is stripped away and he loses control.

“Please Daddy. Breed me. Claim me. Make me yours… please.”

“Okay baby, okay.” He starts moving, gently, rolling his hips slowly, tantalisingly, doing his best not to go too fast or too quickly. “Daddy’s gonna breed you, okay? You're so tight baby…”

He's not sure what's gonna explode first, his heart or his testicles.

It doesn't take long, every tiny thrust driving both of you closer to the edge,Chris closing his eyes and urgently trying to think of something unsexy. Socks with sandals. Being called “Bang Channie”.

That one weird nude Han accidentally sent him at Christmas. What the hell was he doing with all that BBQ sauce on his titties?

But not even deep philosophical musings on the strange behaviour of Han Jisung can distract Chris from how you've started to bounce on him, your pussy finally adjusted to his cock enough that you can ride him a little, thighs tight around his waist.

He almost loses it, when the little gasps and moans spilling from you get so loud he has to muffle them with his hand. No badly how much he wants everyone to hear how good he fucks you, you're still supposed to be keeping this a secret… Definitely not fucking on stage props quickly relocated to a nearby dressing room. Thank fuck the door locks.

But then you bite his hand, losing control of your sanity and bouncing on his dick like a rabbit, whining, so close to cumming but you just can't quite reach it by yourself.

The sting of your teeth on his fingers pushes Chris over, all restraint gone, hands snapping to your hips as he bucks up into you, holding you still so he can pound your pussy.

He feels you coming undone on him, your pussy spasming, clenching, sucking his dick in deeper until he could swear he's pressing against your cervix.

It's not until you collapse in his arms, shaking, trembling, that he finally gives in and lets himself cum. And he cums hard, the aftershocks of your orgasm making your pussy twitch, milking his cock until he's got nothing left to give.

Balls empty, dick aching, cocksore and thighs shaking, Chris holds you close, his seed dribbling out as his cock starts to soften inside you. You both moan when it finally slips out completely, clinging to each other tightly as you both come down from your respective highs.

“I think… I think we might have ruined the chair, Channie.” You giggle as you look up at him, all blissed out and happy.

“Oops.” He shrugs, before leaning forward and brushing your noses together in an Eskimo kiss. “I guess we'll just have to smuggle it home.”

You rest your head on his chest, happy and sated. Eevelling and how quickly Chris can switch back to Channie, all cosy and cuddly and sweet.

“So…”

“So?” Chan is already starting to look sleepy, all fucked out and giddy. He tilts his head at you like a curious puppy, like he didn't just fuck you into th fifth dimension.

“...are you still gonna try tell me the song is about trains?"

Chan blinks, and you can see the cogs in mind turning as he tries to figure out what trains have to do with anything that just happened.

He flushes bright red when the penny drops, eyes going wide, mouth opening and closing as he tries to think of a good comeback. In the end he just hides his face in your neck and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like a whiney “shut up”.

You laugh and snuggle down in his arms. He groans, knowing you're gonna tease him about trains once the post orgasm contentment passes.

That's what he gets for being a liar.

Okay, I'm just about happy with this one. This isn't even the No Thoughts/Hard Thoughts fic, but apparently I have breeding kinks on the brain. Oops. Hope you guys don't mind two in a row. In other news, Channie’s big dick problem is the subject of another fic. Yay size kink? Anyways, thanks for reading, reblogs and comments are so much appreciated and motivating and stuff, let's enjoy this highly educational science gif of Channie to end the post:

tagslist: @sthaay @arestoucries , @chrizzztopherbang, @avnche, @kemkem33, @mikaelless, @lvrgrl-xo, @eevenus , @furioussheepluminary , @sheerfreesia007 , @aasthamoon , @amazinglystay @delulustardust (I got my lists mixed up, I only post skz fics on this account so lemme know if you want me to take you off)

m.list

[realcube]

⋆˙⟡ KEEP IT ON

doing it in your halloween costume

characters ☾ all pro-heroes! bakugo, todoroki, izuku & iida

tws/tags ☾ fingering, oral (receiving) // plugs, vaginal // oral (giving) — MINORS DNI

BAKUGO KATSUKI ☾ x playboy bunny

you're straddling his lap while he's sat on the couch, bodies pressing into each other as your lips weave together.

his hand moves from fiddling with the black cotton tail of your bunny costume, to groping the flesh of your exposed ass, making you yelp slightly at his harsh touch. he kneads the skin in his palm, growling against your lips, "slutty fuckin' outfit."

just as you were about to deepen the kiss , he spins you around, then pushes down on your back so you are bent over with your ass up. he delivers a stern slap to your thigh, and the fiery sting causes you to gasp. "no tights or nothin'. whole ass out." he grumbles, idly slipping a finger underneath the fabric of the costume that was covering your pussy, pulling it to the side.

"and you thought i was gonna let you leave the house looking like that?" he scoffs, narrowing his eyes and wetting his lips at the sight of your tight cunt in front him. so damp and needy, begging for him already. he runs a calloused thumb over your soft folds, admiring your sweet form.

his hot breath tickles your sensitive skin as his face nears your pussy and soon, he plunges his tongue straight into your sopping hole. your back arches as he does so and a high-pitched whine is strung out of your throat. you can feel him smile at your noises, before he starts to feverishly thrust his tongue in and out of you.

relentlessly eating your pussy. the only time he pulls out is when he senses you are getting close, then he'll pull away to utter coarsely, "you're lucky you look hot otherwise i would've blown that costume right off you." even then, his tongue is instantly replaced with his thick fingers stuffed into your hole, fingering you impossibly fast until you come undone over his hand.

TODOROKI SHOTO ☾ x scary black cat

after you showed him your paws, cat ears, tail and tiny black dress, it was only natural that he'd have you bent over the bed while he hit it from behind.

his teeth grind together from so suppress the deep moan that was brimming in throat from how your tight cunt devoured him. his hips moved steadily against your ass; a moderate pace yet his thrusts were powerful enough that they would cause your body to shake if he didn't keep a hold of you by the hip.

with one hand, of course. as the other one was tempted by the fluffy black tailing laying on your leg. originally, he assumed the tail was clipped to the bottom of your short dress, but while he stroked it, he accidentally pulled a little too hard. and instead of unclasping from your dress, a staggered gasp was forced from you and your whole body tensed, as he could tell by your pussy clamping down on his dick.

his lips curled into a smile as he realised how that tail was connected, and he continued to toy with you, giving it a small tug every now and again, then relishing in your cute, flustered reactions.

"that good, kitty?" he teased in a low, hoarse voice.

you roll your eyes, partially at the stupid nickname but mostly due to the fierce sensations his cock was blazing through you repeatedly. the pillow your face was buried in muffled your sweet noises, so he was quick to grab a fitful of your hair and pull you up, so your face was hovering over the sheets and he could hear every single lewd moan that dripped from your sultry tongue.

you groaned in protest, as his harsh grip on your hair stung your scalp, but he was quick to redirect your attention by yanking your tail again.

TENYA IIDA ☾ x latex devil

as soon as tenya saw your costume, he was opposed.

he raved on about how offensive and profane it is, and how — as his wife — you are closely associated with him and therefore, if you are seen wearing something with such sacrilegious overtones, it will reflect poorly upon him and the entire ingenium lineage.

though it was hard not to notice the growing tent in his pants. a part of you suspected that his discontent was coming from a place of jealousy; maybe he just didn't want to admit that he doesn't want other guys seeing you in such a raunchy outfit.

regardless, you enjoy teasing him so when he demanded you take that costume off, you retorted saying that he'd have to rip it off your body.

he was taken aback at first, yet then he apprehensively tried; shuffling towards you so he could slowly undo the zipper at the back of your suit. but it only made it around halfway down your torso before you roped him in for a heated kiss.

he reciprocated for a while, and you were intimately locked together, moving in sync. your hands even began exploring each other's bodies and wandering astray, as he fumbled with your bra strap and you worked on undoing his belt buckle. albeit, the second you both part for air, he rasps, "i sitll think it might be a good idea for you to rem—"

as you throw his belt to the side, you drag down his trousers and drop to your knees, "please be quiet." you whine, then without warning, you welcome his whole length into your mouth, wrapping your smooth lips around his base and causing a deep moan to cough right out of him.

IZUKU MIDORIYA ☾ x nurse

he's sat on the couch and you're straddling his lap, facing him as you give him a check-up.

with the the metal part of your fake stethoscope pressed against his forehead, your eyebrows knit together in concentration as you listen to the silence, then you nod solemnly and drop it and let it dangle from your neck. "i see. you're heartbeat sounds fine." you politely inform him.

"thank you, nurse (y/n), but what's my heart doing in my head?" he chuckles, awkwardly clutching his scalp.

"you know, i'm not sure either." you shrug, as you both titter at the silliness of your whole charade. seeing him smile, you can't help but lean in and engage him in a long yet gentle kiss. equally, upon seeing your legs spread in that short nurse's dress, he can't help but hook an arm under your thigh, under the guise of pulling you close to deepen the kiss, while his true intention is to slip his fingers up your dress and massage the damp spot on your panties.

the feeling of his fingers stimulating your desperate heat causes you to moan into the kiss, prompting him to continue and tug your panties to the side, allowing his fingers to plunge right into your needy hole.

eventually, you fall back from the kiss and meet his heavy gaze, staring longingly into each other's eyes while you bounce steadily on his thick fingers, "you're giving me a check-up now?"

"guess so." he mouths.

[hyuniemyunie]

Clinical Signs of Affection

gregory house x reader

nsfw

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(ФωФ): domestic fluff, work day softness, kiss sneakery, annoying couple behavior, eventual sex, riding house into oblivion, afab reader. no pronouns mentioned, reader calls themselves a "hot housewife" but is referred to as houses "partner" no prns, just a mention of readers clit n hot housewife🙏🙏🙏🙏

tbh its mostly sfw, the nsfw comes at the end

i love this soggy old man sm.

i might repost this on ao3 too, i have ONE fic on ao3. its a house fic.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･

You don’t technically belong here.

You’re not on the clock. You’re not on call. And the front desk nurse definitely gave you the stink eye when you flashed your visitor’s badge and breezed in like you owned the place.

But you do own one very specific thing in this hospital.

Well. One person.

One disaster of a man currently on his sixth hour of ignoring basic human needs like food, water, and common sense.

So you walk through the halls of Princeton-Plainsboro like you’re on a mission, lunchbox in one hand, water bottle in the other, and a familiar devil-may-care smile curling on your lips. You even wore the hoodie he pretends to hate—the one that’s technically his but smells like you now.

A few nurses smile at you. One intern stares like she’s seeing a unicorn. You’ve visited enough times that people know you, but still rarely enough that your appearance turns heads.

Especially when you burst into Diagnostics without knocking.

House doesn’t look up immediately. He’s lounging in his chair, feet on the desk, twirling a pen between his fingers with all the grace of a bored cat. His team—Chase, Cameron, and Foreman—are mid-bicker, voices overlapping, something about liver enzymes and blood cultures and, probably, the meaning of life.

“Tell me someone brought coffee,” House says without looking up.

You don’t say anything.

You just walk in, slow and deliberate, and place the lunchbox right on top of the folder in his lap.

And then the water bottle.

Then, you lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Hi,” you say.

There’s a pause.

Then he finally blinks, looks up, and sees you.

And for a moment, the mask slips.

His eyes soften—just a flicker—and his lips twitch into something less sardonic, more fond.

“I didn’t order a personal chef with boundary issues,” he says.

“No, but you’re getting one anyway.”

Chase coughs awkwardly.

Cameron pointedly avoids eye contact.

Foreman mutters, “Every damn time.”

You ignore them all and pull up a chair beside House like you own the place. Which, emotionally speaking, you do.

“You haven’t eaten,” you say, flipping the lunchbox open. “I know you haven’t eaten. And if I don’t shove food down your throat myself, you’ll subsist on nothing but ibuprofen and rage.”

House narrows his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitches.

“Romantic,” he says dryly.

You smile sweetly. “Chicken teriyaki. And a granola bar, because I know you forget dessert exists.”

He squints at you. “You’re enabling my childish avoidance of nutrition.”

“I’m preventing your body from eating itself.”

He eats.

Grumbling, mock-insulting your cooking, muttering about sodium content—but he eats. And when no one’s looking, you slip your hand under the table and lace your fingers with his.

He squeezes once, hard. Doesn't look at you.

But he holds on.

You give him his water bottle with your other hand and wait until he rolls his eyes and takes a sip, just to shut you up.

When his team clears out—some excuse about test results, but really, it’s because no one wants to witness this—he finally glances at you properly.

“You know,” he says slowly, like drawing out each word, “you could’ve stayed home. Slept. Watched trash TV. Painted your toenails. I’m not exactly prime lunchtime company.”

You lean in, pressing another kiss to his jaw. This one lingers.

“I know,” you murmur. “But I missed you. And I like bothering you.”

He grumbles something unintelligible, but his arm slips around your waist. Just a little.

Just enough.

“Also,” you add with a cheeky grin, “I thought you might appreciate a few stolen kisses between patient charts.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are we in a 90s romcom now?”

You lean closer. “Only if you kiss me back when no one’s watching.”

And sure enough, when Cuddy passes by five minutes later, glaring through the glass with a look that screams Gregory, do your actual job, you’re sitting innocently beside him, lips kiss-bitten, cheeks warm, and House is chewing thoughtfully while looking suspiciously satisfied.

When the office empties again, he leans in and kisses you without a word.

Deep. Slow. Almost hesitant.

“You’re disgusting,” he mutters when you smirk.

“You’re making out with me in your workplace.”

“God help me.”

You grin, smug, resting your head on his shoulder. “Don’t need God. You’ve got me.”

He makes a show of groaning dramatically, but his fingers trail lazily up and down your arm. Like he can’t not touch you. Like he needs to be reminded you’re here, real, breathing beside him.

You stay like that until his pager buzzes again.

He sighs.

You steal one last kiss before he pulls away.

“Bring me leftovers tomorrow,” he calls over his shoulder as he limps out.

“Tomorrow’s your day off.”

“Exactly. I’ll be hungry.”

You roll your eyes fondly, but your heart is full, stupid and warm.

You’ll bring him lunch again tomorrow.

And sneak another kiss, too.

Because even if he never says it in those exact words, you know the truth:

He works best when he knows you’re somewhere nearby—keeping him grounded, fed, loved.

..And hydrated.

---

The moment House’s cane tapped against the hardwood of the front hall, you were already in position like a military strategist. He was home. Finally.

You’d spent all afternoon preparing. Not because you were the type of person to wait on him hand and foot—House would’ve teased the life out of you if that were the case—but because you knew the way his shoulders slumped just a little lower after back-to-back shifts, the way his sarcasm came out slightly more biting when he was actually running on fumes. And because, somewhere deep inside his perpetually grumpy self, he would never ask for what he needed.

So, you gave it to him anyway.

He barely got through the door when his nose twitched.

“Something smells edible,” he grunted, tossing his bag to the side and half-stumbling into the living room. “And here I was expecting the usual ‘eat air and cry’ menu.”

You poked your head out from the kitchen doorway, wiping your hands on a towel dramatically. “Excuse me, I’ll have you know I slaved over a hot stove for at least thirty minutes. That’s premium effort.”

“Mm. You must love me or something,” he said dryly, dragging himself toward the kitchen by the scent alone. “Poor taste.”

“Absolutely tragic,” you agreed, grinning.

When he got close, you could finally take him in—creased button-down under his blazer, the stubble that had grown longer over the last few days, the weary creases by his eyes even as he smirked. He smelled like hospital soap, exhaustion, and the faintest trace of antiseptic.

He leaned in without a word and buried his face in your shoulder, the side of his nose brushing your neck. You didn’t even hesitate—your arms were already around him, pressing him close, fingers slipping up under the back of his shirt to stroke over his skin.

“You always smell better than the hospital,” he mumbled, voice muffled.

“I should hope so. I don’t exactly rub against the ICU on the daily.”

“Might be missing out.”

You laughed against his hair, squeezing him tighter. “You’re disgusting.”

“Your disgusting. You love this disgusting. And speaking of things I love—what did you make me?”

You finally let him go with a dramatic sigh, motioning toward the table. “It’s all ready, Dr. House. Go sit. Or fall. Either works.”

He dropped into his chair with a groan of relief, rubbing his thigh out of habit while you set the table. Pan-seared steak, garlic mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and a tiny bit of something green you knew he’d push around but at least look at. You slid a beer beside his plate with a flourish.

“Who are you and what have you done with my partner?” he asked.

“I killed them. Now I’m the hot housewife.”

He took a sip of the beer, eyeing you over the rim. “You do realize this makes me want to skip dinner and go straight to dessert, right?”

You gave him a sly look and sat across from him. “Eat. Or I’m not letting you see the apron under this shirt.”

“You’re wearing an apron under the shirt?”

“No.”

He choked on a laugh, and something about the softness in his eyes when he finally started to eat made your chest squeeze. His sarcasm never went away, but when it was you, he let it soften at the edges. He let himself feel. That was more than he gave anyone else.

The meal passed with the usual banter—House throwing roasted carrots at you for being “a rabbit,” you threatening to “accidentally” pour gravy in his lap, both of you laughing like idiots over things that probably weren’t even funny. You cleared the table together, and when you were finally done, you leaned back against the sink and raised an eyebrow.

“Now,” you said, arms crossed. “Are you ready for me?”

He tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Was this all just foreplay?”

“House. I literally lit candles. Do I ever light candles?”

“Only when something’s on fire.”

You threw the dishtowel at him. “I ran a bath. And I’m letting you shower with me. Which is generous, because you’re grabby.”

“You say that like it’s a complaint.”

He slid off the counter and limped toward you slowly.

“You’re mine to be grabby with,” he said as his hand snuck around your waist, tugging you in. “Domesticity looks hot on you.”

You leaned up to kiss his jaw. “Shut up and get naked.”

—

Steam curled against the mirror, blurring the edges of your reflections as House stepped in behind you under the stream of hot water. You gasped slightly when the water hit your shoulders—he had cranked the temperature all the way up. He always liked it too hot, and you always let him win.

“You’ll boil me alive one day,” you mumbled, grabbing the soap.

“Mm. Tenderized and ready to eat.”

His hands slid around your waist again, but this time they didn’t stop. Palms flattened against your stomach, fingers dipping low, tracing lazy circles that made you lean back against him. He kissed your shoulder, then your neck, and the scruff of his beard scraped lightly against your skin. One of his hands moved up, cupping your chest shamelessly.

“House—”

“I’ve been dealing with blood, idiots, and Cuddy all day,” he muttered against your ear. “Let me feel something good.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop him, leaning back further into his chest as both of his hands roamed. Not rough—just possessive. Comforting.

You turned in his arms finally and kissed him slowly. He tasted like beer, toothpaste and exhaustion, and he kissed you back with the hunger of a man who’d been living on bitterness and hospital coffee.

“Love you,” you whispered.

His forehead pressed to yours. “You’re an idiot.”

You smiled. “Takes one to love one.”

He grinned, and the way he looked at you in that moment—naked, wet, sleepy, and grinning like a man in love—was worth every moment you’d spent waiting for him to come home.

---

It started, as it often did, with you waking up to something pressing insistently against your backside.

You were warm. Wrapped in soft sheets. Limbs tangled with House’s. The air smelled like morning and him—skin and shampoo and something vaguely medicinal. You didn’t even open your eyes at first. Just exhaled a breath and shifted slightly in bed.

That was when you felt it again.

Thick. Hard. Warm.

Pressed right up between your ass cheeks, like it was meant to be there.

You didn’t need to turn to know House was still fast asleep. His arm was slung over your waist, his breathing even, that low rasp of sleep just starting to fade into wakefulness. But his body was already several steps ahead of him.

Typical.

You smiled to yourself, still barely awake, and wriggled a little closer. That earned you a low grunt.

“…if you’re gonna grind on it, at least commit to the bit,” he muttered sleepily into your hair.

You snorted, turning in his arms until you were face to face, and yup—there was that morning glare. Eyelids half-closed, hair a mess, scruffy jaw, and the world’s most unrepentant erection trapped between you.

“Not my fault you’re pitching a tent,” you whispered, grinning as your hand slid under the covers to palm him through his boxers. “Wanna tell me what you were dreaming about?”

“Medical malpractice.”

“Sure it wasn’t about me in nothing but scrubs?”

He opened one eye, his mouth twitching upward. “You in scrubs is hot. You out of scrubs is hotter.”

You slipped your hand past the waistband and wrapped your fingers around him, slow and firm, and his breath caught, teeth dragging across his lip.

“I could help,” you said softly, giving him a lazy stroke. “Before breakfast.”

“Are you the breakfast?” he asked, voice still gravelly, eyes now glued to your mouth.

You leaned in and kissed him softly. His hand tangled in your hair, and when you shifted to straddle him, his hips arched up immediately into your palm.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he groaned.

“Mm. I’ll revive you. Doctor’s orders.”

You reached over to the nightstand and pulled out a condom from the drawer—because House was a bastard, but he was always careful. You opened the packet, and he watched you like he couldn’t look away, like the very sight of you half-naked in the morning light had short-circuited every sarcastic neuron in his brain.

You rolled it onto him with slow, practiced care, and he hissed softly, hands gripping your thighs. Once he was sheathed and you were slick enough to take him, you eased yourself down onto his cock with a breathless moan.

“Jesus,” he muttered, brow furrowed, “how are you this warm already?”

“Your fault,” you whispered, rocking your hips. “You started it.”

His hands found your waist, guiding your rhythm even though he barely had the strength to lift his head. His mouth fell open as you moved—slow, deep, lazy like Sunday mornings should be. No rush. No urgency. Just the warmth of skin, the roll of your hips, the softness of your hands on his chest, your fingers laced with his.

“God, I missed this,” he muttered.

“You had me last night.”

“Not like this.”

He let you ride him in silence for a few minutes—aside from the low, broken groans he couldn’t hold back when you clenched or angled just right. His thumb brushed your clit in lazy circles, coaxing pleasure from you with that same knowing touch he used in diagnostics—only now it was you he was unraveling.

When your moans started to climb and your thighs began to tremble, he bucked up once, hard, and you gasped.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Come on. Come with me.”

You barely had time to nod before your orgasm hit, crashing through you in a wave of heat and release. You clung to him as you came, shuddering, and he wasn’t far behind—his grip tightened, and he thrust up one final time as he spilled into the condom with a low groan, forehead pressed to your chest.

You collapsed against him, both of you breathless, your bodies tangled and sticky with sweat and satisfaction.

For a while, neither of you moved.

Then, House grunted. “I think I broke a rib.”

“You’re such a baby.”

“You rode me like I was a prize bull.”

You laughed and kissed his shoulder, nuzzling against his neck. “Worth it.”

He reached up, brushed your hair back gently, and kissed your forehead with surprising tenderness.

“Definitely worth it.”

---

After a shared shower—filled more with sleepy kisses and soft touches than anything dirty—you both ended up back in the kitchen, dressed in soft pajamas, your hair still damp, House’s limp a little worse than usual.

“I blame you,” he said, sipping coffee while flipping a pancake with surprising skill. “I’m gonna need my cane just to sit down today.”

“You always need your cane.”

“Not the point.”

You leaned against the counter, watching him. He was still bleary-eyed, still grumbling, but there was something in the way he moved—lighter. More at ease.

When you handed him a plate and he brushed his fingers over yours, you smiled. He didn’t say thank you. He didn’t need to.

It was all there in the way he looked at you over his coffee mug.

Grumpy. Sated. Home.

And as far as mornings went?

You couldn’t think of a better one.

[guiltyandashamed]

headcannons: MC who is easily flustered

Face turning red, stumbling over words, eyes darting away at the smallest teasing gesture—you’ve basically handed each of the brothers a brand-new obsession on a silver platter. Here’s how they react:

Lucifer

He notices immediately. The first time you stammer under his gaze or blush at a compliment, he files it away like valuable intel. He doesn't exploit it constantly—he has standards—but every now and then, he'll lean just a little closer when speaking, drop your name in that low voice of his, and smirk when you freeze.

“You’re very reactive tonight, MC. Something on your mind?”

It's not just amusement, he likes how honest your reactions are. In a world of lies and masks, your flustered state is a rare kind of sincerity. He treasures it… quietly, and with a hint of pride.

Mammon

Absolutely obsessed. The second he realizes you get flustered easily, it becomes his new favorite pastime. He lives for it. Winks, sly touches, cocky grins; it’s game over for your composure.

“Wha—did ya just blush? Hey! Don’t hide your face, c’mon, let me see!”

He gets all flustered himself after teasing you too much, though. Like he short-circuits watching you squirm and then goes red too, stammering, “A-Anyway! Quit lookin’ at me like that, damn…”

He’ll deny it to death, but he thinks you’re adorable.

He short-circuits right alongside you. The moment you get flustered, he mirrors it with double the intensity.

Leviathan

“You—you’re blushing?! Because of me?!”

Then he spirals. “W-wait, does that mean you actually like me?! I mean, you must a little, right?! Oh my god, this is just like in My Demon Prince Falls for a Human!”

He’ll still tease you, but only after he recovers from his own internal meltdown. Expect mutual embarrassment, accidental hand-holding, and a lot of him shrieking into a pillow later.

Satan

He finds it fascinating. And completely irresistible. He loves testing the boundaries, an innocent compliment, a whispered phrase near your ear, brushing your hand with his fingers just to see you twitch.

“It’s so easy to read you… You’re like an open book.”

He’ll tease gently, never cruelly, but he’s definitely studying your reactions like he’s trying to write a thesis on them. And if someone else flusters you? Expect narrowed eyes and a possessive arm around your waist next time you pass him in the hall.

Asmodeus

He lives for this.

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed! Look at that blush! Is it me? Or is it just my presence?”

He’ll take you apart with fluttering lashes and sultry praise, draping over you like a satisfied cat. He thrives on your every squirm, every nervous glance. And when he’s feeling generous, he’ll soothe you with a soft smile and a gentle, “Relax, darling… I’ll be gentle.”

(He absolutely won’t. But the way you react? Worth every second.)

Beelzebub

At first, he’s confused. “Are you okay? Your face is red.”

Once he realizes it’s just you being flustered from his closeness or compliments, he goes quiet for a second… then smiles softly. “I think that’s really cute.”

Beel doesn’t tease much, but he’ll do little things intentionally once he knows it flusters you, standing closer, resting a hand on your shoulder, casually lifting you out of the way with one arm (feeling his muscles, you almost pass out). He’s a walking fluster trap and doesn’t even mean to be.

Belphegor

He finds it hilarious. The second you blush at something he says, he’s grinning like a devil.

“Oho? You’re that easy, huh?”

Belphie teases in a lazy, low voice, usually while lounging across your lap or invading your space in that way that makes your brain short-circuit. He lives to watch you cover your face.

But he also finds it... weirdly endearing. You’re soft around the edges in a way that makes him want to pull you close and bury his face in your neck.

“Don’t worry,” he’ll murmur when you’re red and hiding. “I like you like this.”

[coupsiedaisee]

the devil that he is | a companion | c.sc

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader genre: smut, just pwp warnings: kissing, mentions of alcohol, uses of daddy and good girl, oral, unprotected sex, creampie wordcount: 1.8k a/n: because @hannieween demanded it, here it is, a companion piece to pulse. please go and give that a read first if u can, though i don't think its necessary to understand the smut in this lmao (v don't get it in ur head that if u start demanding more ill write more this was an exception!!!!) Im really quite new to smut and not that great so pls let me know what u liked what u didn't like etc etc. uwu ily all, pls enjoy!

You're cuddled into Seungcheol's chest, sitting on his lap, eyes closed as you listen to the steady beat of your boyfriends's heart. He'd pulled the blanket up to cover you fully and was now rubbing soft circles into your waist.

Seungcheol presses a soft kiss on your cheek, smoothing your hair away from your face, "Are you tired baby?"

"No," you murmur.

Seungcheol's fingers pause, "Do you want to have some more fun?"

You look up at him, "Here?" Again?

"No not here, love," he chuckles.

"Then where?" Not that it mattered. Though you couldn't voice it in the open living room, you were feeling extremely unsatisfied from before.

He raises an eyebrow, "Is that a yes?"

"Yes ," you whisper. Anticipation of what he has planned makes your race.

Suddenly, you feel a cool sticky liquid seep onto your legs through the thin blanket. The liquid slides down your ass.

You throw the the blanket off you, "What—"

"Oh shit, sorry!" says Seungcheol. You see him holding an empty Corona bottle upside down , looking less like he was sorry, and more like a cat who caught the canary. He sets the bottle aside an hooks an arm under your legs, lifting you off his lap bridal style.

"Shua, I spilled beer on us and the couch, I'm gonna go grab some of your clothes to change into!" Seungcheol yells behind him as he carries you up the stairs, setting you down when he gets to a door. He opens the door and pushes you through it, locking it behind him once he's through.

There's a queen bed in the middle of the room with a thick grey comforter, and matching grey pillows. A guitar leans against the wall in the corner, a small shelf with a record player and vinyls next to it. Recognition lights your eyes and you whip around smacking Seungcheol in the chest. "Seungcheol!" Smack! "This is Josh's room!"

"Yeah, it is," Seungcheol's got a cheeky glint in his eye.

Your jaw drops and you smack him again, "We are not doing anything in here! I thought you were taking me to the bathroom." A fresh new blush blooms on your cheeks as heat rushes to your face.

"You want me to take you back downstairs to the bathroom?" Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, smirk growing and eyes darkening. He grabs you by the back of you neck, pulling you towards him, and using his other hand to slide up under you skirt to fondle an ass cheek. Your hands stay on his chest as his hot breath fans over your face, "Do you want everyone to hear the beautiful sounds you're about to make when I fuck you?"

You close your eyes and shudder, imagining people's eyes as they follow you and Seungcheol going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. Imagining Seungcheol bending you over the counter so you can watch him in the mirror as he rails you from behind. The way your loud moans would reverberate off the bathroom walls and echo down the hallways to the living room, kitchen, and game room.

Seungcheol tightens the grip on your ass, "Oh, you do, don't you baby?" His face is so close your noses touch, but he doesn't close the distance between your lips. "You want everyone to hear how filthy you actually are, my shy shy girl." You clench you fingers around the fabric of his polo, and nod the faintest of nods. "I need to hear you baby. Do you or do you not want everyone to hear how drunk you are for Daddy's cock?"

You whine, nodding and grazing your lips against Seungcheol's. He tightens the hold on you neck, holding you back, "Words, babygirl."

"I-I want, you t-to—" You stumble over the words, still too shy to verbalize what you need from your boyfriend.

"We're not going anywhere until you can say it, babygirl," Seungcheol murmurs, moving his hand to cup your jaw.

You swallow before trying again, keeping your voice steady, "I want you to fuck me."

"And," he rubs his thumb back and forth on your cheek.

"And?" You falter, looking into his deep brown eyes.

"And, you know what else." He goads you on.

"A-and," You think . Then, you understand and, your thighs rubs against each other on their own accord, seeking friction. "I want everyone to hear," you whisper.

Seungcheol is unrelentless though, the devil that he is. "Hear what, baby?"

You whine and try to lean over to catch his lips with yours.

"Come on," he takes his hand off your ass to smooth your hair out of your face, using the hand on your jaw to force you to look at him. "Say it and I'll give you exactly what you want." Your eyes glaze over at that.

"I want everyone to he-ar," you voice cracks but you keep on, "how filthy I am for Daddy's cock." You wince at how needy your voice sounds.

Seungcheol presses the sweetest, softest, kiss to your lips and smiles at you, "Good girl. Now, that wasn't so hard baby, was it?"

His hands are warm against your cheek and you shyly shake your head no. He pats your cheek, "Go get on the bed, love."

You go to sit on the end of Joshua's bed, perhaps a little too giddy as the bed bounces a little from your weight. Seungcheol follows close behind, unbuttoning his jeans, not once taking his eyes off of you. "Take your shirt off for me, and your skirt," he says, and you don't hestitate for a second to take them off. Seungcheol mirrors you, pulling his polo over his head and stepping out of jeans, leaving him in just his tight black boxer briefs.

His hard cock strains agaisnt the tight fabric and you wonder if he feels just as needy as you are right now. Unable to decipher the look on Seungcheol's face, you decide it resembles something akin to a lion waiting to pounce on a gazelle. He licks his lips, looking down on your nearly naked body.

"For me?" his voice is gruff. Oh, your lingerie set. You'd almost forgotten about it. Deep red and lacey. Bra barely covering the swell of your breasts and panties already ruined from earlier.

You nod, chewing on your lip before asking in a small voice, "Do you like it?"

Seungcheol groans, running a hand through his hair, muttering, "You're gonna be the death of me."

He brings a hand up to up one of your breasts, thumb running over the top. You shiver in anticipation when his thumb grazes your skin.

It doesn't take even a second before Seungcheol's got you on you back against the bed, attacking your throat with kisses. You'll take that as a yes.

You snake a hand up into his hair, fingers tangling into his soft strands, giving it a tug when he mouths at the sensitive spot right under your jaw.

Seungcheol pushes a hand up under your bra and you let out a breathy moan when he swipes over a pert nipple. Your hips buck up into him, craving friction, and he grinds his clothed hard cock over your clothed cunt.

Seungcheol kisses down your neck, and your chest, lower and lower, until he reaches your soaked panties. He rips them off, tossing them into an unknown corner of the room, and uses his hands to spread your legs apart, holding them down firmly at your thighs.

Your breath hitches when you feel Seungcheol lick a fat, wet stripe up your cunt. But he doesn't give you a chance you even think about it, instead attacking your pussy with his mouth, switching between licking at it and sucking your clit. Your head rolls back in pleasure, and any move to grind against his face is halted by his firm hold on your thighs.

"Seungcheol," you whimper, as he sucks roughly at your clit. You pull on his hair, biting back a moan as pleasure builds within you. You need more.

Seungcheol lifts his head, your arousal dripping down his chin. He looks smug at how much you've come undone on just his tongue alone.

He leans up to kiss you, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth, letting you taste yourself. You moan into his mouth and he ruts agaisnt you. You grind up against him, or at least try to, with his hands still firmly holding you down. "Seungcheol," you whine, "I need you."

Seungcheol groans again, nipping at your bottom lip. He sits up on his knees, still situated between your legs, and pulls out his cock. It's hard and leaking so much pre-cum out its red tip. You nearly drool at the sight.

He rubs his cock against your entrance, letting your arousal smear all over it, and with no preamble, starts to push in.

You gasp at the feeling of his girthy cock slowly stretching you out, "Seungcheol." With one final push, he bottoms out, and god have you never felt so full.

Seungcheol leans down to kiss you and then he starts to move. Slow and languid at first but faster as he starts rocking his hips against yours.

He grunts with every snap of his hips and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand to hide your moans.

"Baby," Seungcheol's breathing hard, but so are you, "Baby, don't cover your mouth, let them hear you." At that, your pussy clenches around Seungcheol's cock, and Seungcheol stalls for a moment, letting out a choked, "Oh my god."

You slip out your own sweet little cry as Seungcheol picks his pace back up, your orgasm starting to build. Seungcheol moves his hand down to your clit and starts rubbing circles on it. "Come for me baby, cum all over Daddy's cock, yeah?"

You let out one final echoing moan as your orgasm comes crashing down around you, Seungcheol following after you with a quick fuck fuck fuck. You whimper from pleasure as you feel Seungcheol fill you up with his cum, the excess leaking out and down your leg onto the bed.

There's a knock on the door, and you both freeze. A moment. And then another knock, this one sounding more hesitant.

"Yeah?" Seungcheol yells, voice raspy.

Another moment, then a pained voice softly floats through the door, Dino, "Um, the guys told me to tell you that we can hear you? And, uh, Shua says to burn the sheets before you come back down?" There's a incomprehensible yell. "Um, actually he says don't come down just—I'm not telling them that!" There's more yelling and Dino sighs, "He would like you two to unkindly jump out the window please."

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO CTRLALTDAISEE I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS, OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ON THIS OR ON OTHER WEBSITES

[gay-dorito-dust]

I just can’t get out of my head the headcanons that the sparta boys (dante, vergil, maybe nero?) just acting like cat demons

Dante

this man in his devil trigger looks impossing, so intimidating, yet the moment you call his name, his wings perk up in the similar way a cat or dog's would

his eyes would dialiate upon seeing you as loud purrs would eminate from him, chirps would soon follow also that are just the cutest things you've ever heard.

he's that excited to see you that hes constantly chriping, purring as he makes his way over to you excitedly as his wings flutter and his tail vibrating at a rate of which your eyes could hardly keep up with. and soon your within his arms as he's purring loudly, content with you being in his arms.

only for it to be a heaping pile of dead demons stacked ontop of each other and he's looking at you as though waiting for your approval.

dante's devil trigger is extremely talkitive, especially towards you in the forms of chittering, purrs and trills as he tries to show you something he had found that his demon mind thinks will impress you even more.

just give his head a rub between the horns and his tail is viberating once more and his wings are outstretched to their fullest wing expansion.

and they are fucking huge! a good couple of feet on each of them as a matter of fact.

dante is the equivient of an orange cat, always craving chaos and doing shit he's not supossed to and for some reason you'll find him on the rafters of some abandoned building, lounging there as he naps.

he takes alot of naps, most of which are on your lap and he doesn't let up for a long while, seriously if you were to move he'll get pouty and be vocal as demonic screams that you assumed were akin to yeowling, will occur until you come back to him.

he will also show you his tummy, however unlike Vergil -who will rare do this- he will want you to rub his tummy, it's a weakness of his and you'll be rewarded with the loudest of purrs and one of his tail latching onto your wrist, keeping you there as he basked in the affection being given to him.

he pushes your hand down in means of being playful, he want's to exert some energy, so play with him for a bit until he tires himself out.

Vergil

this man will probably act the most cat like in his devil trigger, the biggest.

he could be in your lap, this hulking blue demon but his claws would be running over your head, over your arms

as though he was trying to groom you in some sort of way without accidently hurting you with his sharp claws.

Vergil had told you about demon courting and how they'd tend to groom one another to show a deep bonding between the two, an excuse to spend time together as well as affection.

he's terratorial. so expect him to suddenly come up to you and rub himself against your body, making sure your covered in his scent.

even if you were about to fall flat on your ass everytime this hulking mass of a devil presses himself against you constantly, even burrying his large head into your chest for good measure.

he chirps or clicks at what he views as prey, he could be content in your lap, your caressing his scaley/leathery skin until his head is up, eyes are dead set on something you can't see and suddenly he is chirping/clicking as he gears up for a hunt before hes back in your lap and you are left bafled at what has just happened.

sometimes he'll be gone for a while, just completely unexpected, though then again how can you loose sight of a blue demon in the first place? anyway he'll worry you sick with how long his absence continues, so much so that when he does come home, he'll carry himself in a way that extemrely unlike him.

his head is lowered as he appoaches you stealthily and slowly, his tail between his legs as you tell him how worried you were about him, fearing that he might've gotten hurt. he knows he's done wrong and will seat himself next to you in hopes you'd pet him or scratch his horns, anything, he's begging you with those massive demon eyes for your affection.

but he has come prepared, with a gift and no it's not a dead demon, but instead a small gift that he found while he was out, a really pretty broach that must've been dropped somewhere. you accept the gift and vergil is purring as he pushes his head against yours, happy that you have accepted his appology.

bonus: this sassy little bitch will push your hand away when you've petted him too much and will look you in the eye while doing so.

Nero

his devil trigger will show his affection by slow, prolonged blinks in your direction, to show he loves you and that his trust was very much intact with his demonic form.

nero, much like his dad, in his devil trigger is terratorial, so don't be surprised when he makes sure your covered in his scent as much as he can whenever he can.

pushes his head against your lips when you give him kisses.

the first time you do this as the moment you kiss his forhead, he's still as though comprehending your actions before huffing and pushing his head against your lips for more kisses, so congratualtions youre stuck there for the next few hours.

he kneeds you quite often, it doesn't matter where you were or if you were sitting or standing, you're going to get kneeded by him regardless as a show that he was perfectly content with you.

same thing when he's making buiscuits on your thighs, tummy, chest or back before he goes to sleep cuddled on your chest, it's him being content and happy that you were here with him and is more then wanting to show you.

he -unlike Vergil- moves your hand when petting him is to guide you towards an area he wanted petted more then the area you were focued on petting.

nero doesn't give you gifts to appologise like Vergil does, he gives you gifts out of a need to keep his mate feeling appreciated.

not that you needed anything to feel appreciated, nero did that enough with his affection and actions alone, but he felt as though he should at least find you something and he manages to scavange a few pretty gifts for you. he makes little chriping noises when he sees that you like them, this only encourages him to do it even more.

[bellsbookshop]

give me attention [i need it now]

pairing: matt murdock x reader

a peek at the cat-coded tendencies of matthew michael murdock ⋆🐾°

author’s note: my writing partner and i had a silly little chat about how matt is truly an orange cat at heart, and this was born ! warnings for a concerning amount of fluff, the tiniest hint of angst re: matt’s upbringing, and a dash of suggestiveness જ⁀➴ as usual, any feedback [likes, comments, reblogs + asks] is appreciated and welcomed ! title comes from where the lines overlap by paramore. reader is not explicitly gendered in this !

wc: 960

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

the evening light trickles in through the apartment windows, only slightly overshadowed by the neon of the billboard just outside them; everything is painted in hues of purple and orange and red, hazy and soft in the quiet peace. matt’s draped over one end of the couch, a stack of papers in his lap and a furrow in his brow as his fingers dance over the braille engraved there. you’re at the other end, book in your hands and a blanket draped over your tucked up legs, keeping him company while he works. the week has been long for the both of you, work bleeding over into the domestic time you two usually share, so you’ve taken to sitting with him while he slogs through paperwork after dinner. it’s not the most exciting, but its still quality time, and you’ll take whatever you can get.

every so often you’ll look up at him, admiring the sharp cut of his jaw, the way the light splashes patterns over his face; even with the exhaustion under his eyes and the stress lining his forehead he looks handsome, a stained glass painting that’s all yours to gaze upon. sometimes you like to tell him he reminds you of a church window, larger than life and beautiful to match it, just to watch a rare blush dance over his cheeks. usually it’s matt flustering you with his cheeky flirting and charm, so on the rare occasion that you get to turn the tables on him you take full advantage, warm with affection for him.

one of his hands stills on the page he’s reading, fingers twitching almost involuntarily as if wanting something he can’t voice, and a small smile lifts the corners of your mouth. in the months of dating matt, you’ve come to realize that for all his late night deviling and daytime lawyering he’s truly just ….

catlike.

he craves attention but never knows how to ask for it, the words always at the tip of his tongue. he’ll wrap an arm around you silently, squeezing you in a hug so tight it takes your breath away, resting his head against your shoulder and burrowing his face into your neck. he’ll deny it till he’s blue in the face, always brushing off your questions and sidestepping your concern, but he melts the moment you touch him, a puddle of repressed catholic goo in your hands.

you muse to yourself that it’s likely due to his childhood — the loss of his father, growing up in the church orphanage, seeking out the world with his hands open only to find it just out of reach. it’s put a muzzle on his ability to voice the need, the deep seated longing for intimacy that doesn’t involve heated touches beneath silk sheets. thankfully you’ve taken it upon yourself to study him, master the language that is matthew michael murdock, and you know all his tells when he’s in desperate need of affection.

setting aside your book, you look for the rest of his tells; the tightness in his jaw that means he’s clenching his teeth, the way his shoulders seem heavier despite being out of his work clothes and in a cozy sweater that doesn’t irritate his skin. the most obvious one is his hands, the restless way he’s tapping them against his paperwork, smoothing out invisible wrinkles on the pages. it’s enough for you to decide he needs a break, and you sit up enough that you can tug the work out of his hands and set it on the coffee table, pulling him in close to your chest with an exaggerated pout.

“i need a snuggle, c’mere. i feel like the mistress to law right now,” you tease, leaning back against the cushions and tugging him with you till he’s laying against you fully, head against your chest. one hand gently rubs patterns against his back, soothing away the stress in his shoulders little by little. your other hand goes to the back of his neck, nails lightly scratching at the hair there till he’s all but dead weight on top of you, like a matt-sized weighted blanket.

“i do have to review those last few witness statements before bed,” he manages to protest after a moment, but there’s no urgency in his tone; he’s perfectly content to stay right where he is forever, paperwork be damned. you do your best not to laugh, pressing a light kiss to his temple as his hands snake their way up your shirt, warm palms holding your waist to ensure you don’t wiggle away.

“sure, matty. after our cuddle.”

bit by bit he starts to crumble; his eyes close, the fingers drawing circles on your skin moving slower and slower till they stop, just the warmth of them there. his shoulders drop, the tension bleeding out of them easily, and his complaints about needing to get up come less and less frequently till they die off altogether, nothing but little huffs and mumbles when you talk to him like he’s purring, rumbling low from his chest.

he falls asleep like that, face in your neck and his arms around your waist, keeping you flush against the couch, and you don’t wake him. like this he’s peaceful, all traces of worry gone from his face, and you love it when he’s like this — sleepy and warm and pliant, not afraid to take what he needs. affection and love, that’s what he needed, and you’ll happily give it to him for as long as he’ll let you.

even if you had to trick him into thinking it was your idea. such a cat, you laugh to yourself, brushing his hair off his forehead.

maybe you should get him a bell. ✮⋆˙

[sh4nksslvt]

shanks x reader with a cat-like or cat based zoan devil fruit?

sounds cool www

Claws, Cuddles, and Catnip Chaos

Shanks will do anything to win over the crew’s mischievous cat-like Devil Fruit user—even if it means competing with Benn and surviving a sneak-attack nap.

shanks x reader | ONE SHOT tags: fluff, sfw, light romance, nap cuddles, clingy antics, catnip a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ff a bit cringe, akward, and confusing word count: 991

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

There were exactly three things the Red-Haired Pirates learned about you very quickly:

You were a certified menace in a cat’s body.

You had zero respect for personal space—unless it was Shanks’s.

You absolutely, unapologetically favored Benn Beckman.

"She purrs for you, Benn?! I've fed her, I've scratched her ears, I even gave her that weird fish jerky from Dressrosa!"

Shanks was sulking—again—as you laid sprawled across Benn’s lap like a lazy feline sunbathing, flicking your tail with royal indifference while he casually stroked between your ears.

“She lets me pet her when she’s in a good mood,” Benn replied calmly, taking a drag of his cigar. “Maybe try not throwing her off your shoulder when she lands there mid-meeting.”

“She knocked over seven mugs in ten seconds!”

“I was clearing the table for snacks,” you muttered, not opening your eyes.

“You yeeted a map. Into the ocean.”

You rolled onto your back, belly up, tail flicking toward Benn’s arm. “Benny understands me. Right, Benny?”

Benn chuckled, slow and satisfied. “You’re a little gremlin, but you’re my gremlin.”

Shanks practically burst into flames from jealousy. “That’s MY gremlin!”

"Ownership implies consent," you said, still not moving.

“You SLEPT ON HIS DESK FOR THREE HOURS!”

“I was asserting dominance.”

Shanks’s eye twitched.

Flashback: The “Desk Incident”

You’d sauntered into the war room mid-strategy meeting, tail high, whiskers twitching with curiosity. No one questioned it. You did this all the time.

Except this time, instead of knocking over a globe or licking a compass like a weirdo, you simply walked across the table, plopped down on Benn’s open map, and curled up into a ball.

Then you snored.

For three hours.

Shanks tried to nudge you off gently at first.

You bit him.

When Benn reached over and scratched your chin, you purred like a motorboat and flopped onto your side.

"Traitor," Shanks muttered.

Back to the Present

"Alright, that's it," Shanks declared, standing on a barrel dramatically. "From now on, I'm enacting Operation: Make Cat Fall in Love with Me."

Benn raised an eyebrow. "That’s the name you’re going with?"

"YES," Shanks snapped. "Step one: catnip. Step two: fish. Step three: ultimate snuggles."

"She’ll see right through it," Benn said, but he was smirking.

You stretched and yawned loudly. “I can hear you, you know.”

“I’m not hiding it!” Shanks declared. “I’m wooing you.”

“Woo me and you die.”

“You’re saying that now,” he said, pointing dramatically. “But just wait.”

Operation: Catastrophic Success

Step one was—predictably—catnip.

You were wise to his games this time, narrowing your eyes at the sprig he dangled like a bribe.

“I’m not falling for it again.”

“Come on,” Shanks wheedled. “Just a sniff.”

“Nope.”

Shanks leaned in, holding it under your nose like a shady merchant. “High-quality, imported, no sticks.”

You hissed and batted it out of his hand.

Then you lunged and stuffed it in your shirt.

“…I said I wasn’t falling for it, not that I was above stealing it.”

Shanks blinked. “...Fair.”

Step Two: Fish Diplomacy

Shanks cooked. Personally.

The crew avoided the galley like it was on fire.

When you walked in, the smell of something vaguely edible reached your nose. Shanks stood with a crooked smile, apron inside out, face smudged with flour, and a suspiciously burnt fish in hand.

“For you.”

You sniffed it.

You stared.

“Did… did you use rum instead of oil?”

“I panicked!”

You padded over to Benn and took the jerky he always kept in his coat pocket.

Shanks’s soul left his body.

Step Three: Ultimate Snuggles

It happened completely by accident.

You were curled up on your usual sunspot near the helm, tail twitching softly as the Red Force cut through calm seas. You’d been lounging near Benn earlier, of course, but he’d gone to smoke and you felt… restless.

The sun was warm.

The wind was soft.

Shanks was lying in the hammock like a lounging idiot, one leg up, book on his face, softly snoring.

And for some reason, your legs just walked over. Your ears twitched. Your instincts went haywire.

And before you could even think, you leapt into the hammock like a heat-seeking missile and curled up on his chest.

Shanks woke with a loud OOF.

He froze.

He blinked up through his book… and found you, kneading his chest absentmindedly, eyes already half-lidded, clearly ready for a nap.

“Wha…”

“Shh,” you mumbled. “You’re warm. Good pillow.”

He nearly died on the spot.

She’s on me, he thought. She chose ME. Over Benn.

He let his arm slowly wrap around you like he was defusing a bomb. Then he just laid there, stiff as a board, trying not to breathe too loudly.

When Benn walked by and raised a brow, Shanks grinned like a victorious maniac.

“She came to me,” he mouthed.

Benn just puffed his cigar and said, “Try not to scare her off.”

“She’s purring,” Shanks whispered smugly. “She likes me now.”

“I give it five minutes before she sneezes and claws your face.”

Five Minutes Later

You sneezed violently.

Your claws came out.

“OH GOD MY NIPPLE.”

Later That Night

You sat on the railing, brushing your tail as the moonlight washed over the deck. Shanks sat nearby, nursing his dignity and some scratch marks under his shirt.

“…Still worth it,” he mumbled.

You side-eyed him. “You’re a masochist.”

“I like a challenge.”

You flicked his forehead with your tail. “You’re annoying.”

He grinned. “But you like me.”

“…No comment.”

You hopped off the rail and stretched. Then, casually, you flopped down and laid your head in his lap.

He froze again.

“…Are you trying to kill me with happiness?”

You yawned. “You’re comfy. Better than your fish, that’s for sure.”

He beamed.

“You like me more than Benn?”

“Don’t push it.”

“But—”

You shot him a glare. “I will go scratch his beard and nap in his bunk again.”

Shanks shut up real fast.

“…I’ll take the win.”

[ddejavvu]

Could you do something for cat animangus reader x Sirius where they're older like order of the phenix older during winter time and Molly makes a comment to Sirius about him having a sweet cat and when he turns to corner he finds reader cuddled up to Remus again do to his body heat and Sirius just reacts to a "really this again?"

Things between Molly and Sirius are still frosty, but the same stuff that chills between them glazes over the windows, and the winter air serves as a healing balm while everyone huddles around the fire for warmth.

The heating systems in Grimmauld Place are functional, but ancient, and it's much easier to stay by a roaring fire than to huddle by the floor vent on one of the upper levels. Sirius has insisted, as the owner of the house and as the man unwillingly cooped up inside of it for years, that he will make the cocoa, because if he goes any longer without making himself useful he will begin yearning to touch the fatally cursed objects his mother hoarded before her demise.

Molly relents, if only to keep his callused hands away from a music box that will kill him if the tune reaches his ears.

"Oh, that's lovely," The woman coos, peering at your feline form curled up on Remus's lap in front of the fire, "Remus, I didn't know you had a cat. I thought the only one we had was Hermione's, but he's orange."

"She's not mine," Remus hums, though he drags a palm flat over your head, letting you butt into it to your own liking, "She's Sirius's."

Molly's brows scrunch; surely Remus doesn't mean the dog man that stands eerily alert at the back door whenever he hears the pitter patter of little paws on the back fence-? But when the aforementioned animagus comes into the room with a tray of cocoa, she confirms Remus's words straight from the source.

"Sirius, your cat is lovely." She muses experimentally, watching the way the man's eye twitches slightly.

"Oh? And where is the little devil-?" Sirius peers around the room, and when his gaze lands on you lounging on Remus's legs, he shoves the tea tray haphazardly onto a side table with a scoff. It makes a cacophony of sounds; most of them unpleasant as glass-on-glass tends to be, "Oh, you're joking."

"Sirius, it's warm here," Remus attempts to calm the man, but it's no use as he steals a mug of cocoa and makes a break for the staircase. You're glad to see that prison never took his flair for dramatics, but he's being a tad ridiculous. Remus keeps explaining, "You're welcome to take her if you want to sit by the fire! She's just getting warm!"

"Keep her! Keep her," Sirius calls from the ledge of the second floor, "And Moony, why don't you just take the deed to the house, too! And my things, you can steal the clothes right off of my back next time."

With a huff and a flourish that are aided by his chin-length curls, Sirius turns to beeline for his room, and the slam of a door that rattles the paintings on the wall is your confirmation that your husband will be sulking until you pad upstairs and settle on his chest.

"Well, that was fun while it lasted." Remus drawls, scooping a hand beneath your belly and hoisting you out of his lap. He sets you on your feet, and you mourn the loss of the fire's warmth.

"Go humor him, love," Remus nudges you towards the stairs, and Molly watches bewildered as you begin your ascent.

"We've been having this fight for over a decade," Remus muses, sipping at his cocoa and skillfully avoiding a whipped cream mustache, "When your children aren't eavesdropping with that extendable ear, I'll tell you about the time he found her curled up in my bed instead of his."

[ayumip]

𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮…𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬?

boyfriend!rin x reader

word count: 0.6k

rin, your boyfriend, is jealous of the stray cat you recently adopted. so what's he going to do? get it away of course!

recently, rin's been wearing a permanent scowl on his face, not that he didn't scowl at everyone before, but now it was wayyy more obvious.

you, on the other hand, were living your best life. for the past month, you've been feeding this stray cat in your neighborhood, bringing it milk, cat food and water from the nearby connivence story everyday. it took you a while to confirm that it was indeed a stray, and not a cat roaming around using its cuteness to lure passersby to give it more food. nevertheless, you begged rin to allow you to adopt it into your shared apartment. using your puppy dog eyes, and some other forms of convincing, he relented with a "i don't care as long as it doesn't bother me"

little did he know, that cat would be the death of him.

"here kitty kitty~!" you would coo at your new pet with that bright smile of yours, showering it with love and affection. you cuddled with it on your chest every morning, every afternoon, every evening; even when your were working late at night, it was either on your lap or on your desk. (that was his privilege! though he would never admit it, he thrived off your touch. if he could, he would glue himself next to you, never letting go)

rin wasn't the best at voicing his emotions. this past week, you've been all over your cat! gushing about it, playing with it, taking care of it...how about him! he was itching for you to cuddle with him again, or lay his head on your lap as you gave him his head scratches that he oh so adored; even a quick touch would mean heaven for him at this point!

deprived of your touch, rin has begun to utterly despise your cat. oh, to him it was the definition of the devil itself —nuzzling up to you all the time, taking your attention away from him, your boyfriend, squishing itself in the middle of you two in the middle of your horror movie nights, or even worse, evicting him away from his spot in your arms. he was getting crankier, but he wouldn't say anything! he just gave you fleeting touches hoping you'd get the hint, which of course, you didn't.

tonight, it was the night. he wanted your touch back, no, he needed it back! it's been a week, a week away from you (not really, rin's exaggerating here.) the three of you were sitting on the shared couch, watching yet another horror movie. instead of you cuddling up to him, you were instead petting your cat! softly stroking it's fur and scratching just behind it's ears. it let out a content purr, satisfied with your ministrations. rin, could not focus on the movie at all, despite horror being his favorite genre.

when you momentarily left to grab some water. rin pounced on the chance to give your cat his signature death stare, it hissing back in response to rin's hostility. rin didn't falter, he cupped the cat's cheeks 'gently', glaring into it's eyes:

"get away from my girlfriend, you lukewarm creature." he muttered, only to be met with your cat's sharp paws smacking his face.

you were watching from afar, biting back your laughter at the hilarious exchange between your cat and your boyfriend. joining them back at the couch, you picked up your cat, prying it away from rin, who was moments away from god knows what, nuzzling into your arms as it glared rin down.

"...rin- are you picking a fight with my baby?"

"i'm your baby."

authors note: god i wish i had a cat too :( there may be some mischaracterization here but i had this idea and wrote it in like 30 mins...might write a pt 2 where rin gets along w ur cat at last!

[r0-boat]

So we're all losing it over the new whb characters right? But I keep thinking about being belphegor's pillow on accident. like he falls asleep standing during a fight or something and lands on us. I wouldn't even try to move him, I'd just be like, ok cuddle time I guess until one of the nobles comes and ruins it.

Aw it's actually super adorable! Orion I absolutely love this!

May I write a little bit about it?

WHB 6 Kingly cuddles: reactions to the MC snuggled up to them

Satan

Doesn't sleep but will gladly cuddle you while you sleep.

Once you fall asleep he will not move. He will just hold you close; smiling at how vulnerable and cute you look as he scrolls on his phone. He is at peace with you in his arms cuddling into his chest until trouble strikes...

He sees snickering devils whether it be his subordinates, nobles or Even some of the kings. While Satan is quietly cussing them out, threatening them, But still holding you in his arms. They better pray to Lilith: you don't open your pretty little eyes because it will be their funeral.

Mammon

He is the perfect pillow, it doesn't matter where he is, he would gladly lend his body for you to sleep. While you sleep peacefully his hands will wander mostly just squeezing your ass.

Sometimes, you seem more like a sleeping kitten, especially when you just how much pictures he had taken of you while you slept. He is also very much addicted to seeing you in his oversized shirts for sleepwear. In fact, he likes it so much that he throws out to your old pajamas in favor of his old clothes.

Leviathan

To him sleeping is when you're at your most vulnerable. That's why he sleeps in a He is not used to being so close to you. Part of him is uncomfortable because of it. But another part of him, most of him, is pounding and jittering in. Does this mean you are getting used to him more? Are you falling for him??? He has never seen a human sleep up close like this except for the times he would stalk you and watch you sleep, but shhhh, you don't know that.

His heart is beating so hard it's threatening to come out of his chest. Maybe this can be his chance for his hands to wander and explore your body in ways he could not before. Gently touch and caress your skin and truly love you, something he didn't want to do for pride sake.

Beelzebub

His hands do wonder, They wonder so much that I cannot explain or else this will no longer be sfw. Sometimes it's not because he wants to have sex with you, He just has his hands there because he just likes touching those parts of you. Sometimes he just plays with you again not to get you horny or anything He just likes playing with them. By the time you wake up sadly he's already gone but his coat is over you with little gifts right next to you.

Lucifer

Will almost never indulge in sleepy time cuddling, The most you'll ever do when you fall asleep on him is kiss your forehead before tucking you in bed. Then tell you when you wake up "beds are for sleeping you should use them.". He will almost always move you to his bed before going to work. If you want to cuddle with him you're going to have to ask but he must warn you cuddling is not something he does so he's afraid that he needs some time to learn how.

Belphegor

If you fall asleep, he will almost always be there when you wake up, spooning or cuddling you. No matter where you are as long as he's there and you fall asleep He will seek your warmth and sleep with you. No matter where you are no matter where you sleep no matter how comfortable or uncomfortable he will be there. Laying in your lap, holding you in his lap, laying on top of your back, laying on your stomach, or you on his sleeping on another king. He's not picky.

He is like a cat as soon as you wake up he is already in ear warm spot in your bed snuggled.

[focalove]

Bathing with him

Cw! : gn!reader....... with some mentions of maybe f!/m!reader, mentions of d*ck, nothing too explicit. written before sunday & aven release!

Aventurine

✦ 01 bb come home the kids miss u :(

✦ 02 Though, by all means, Aventurine never or rarely reveal his ✦ bare naked self infront of anyone. So congratulations for achieving this level of intimacy with him

✦ 03 At first he'd be so cocky and teaseful when you asked him if you wanted to bath with him

✦ 04 "Oh? princess/prince-y here wants to bathe with me? well what's the occasion, or are you just that touch starved?" he snickered with a smirk of a devil in his face

✦ 05 I also think he'd also ask you to undress you to like "sweetie… I don't think I can take off my shirt… can you help me?" and he would be dangling his chest window area

✦ 06 and his pants too maybe, to show you his d---

✦ 07 anywayz, when both of you finally get in the bathtub, he'd be so shy

✦ 08 pls lead him!! princess needs his directions on how to do it correctly :<

Aventurine had a big bathroom. Big bathtub, a lot of space, fully furnished bathroom, a complete set of bath commodities. For you, it was like a dream bathroom. And there you are, sitting on the brims of the bathtub. The water tempeture was warm and the fragrance of the soap that had been mixed with the water was devine.

The door opened, revealing Aventurine in a towel around his waist. You can hear the footsteps behind you. An indication he's coming. "The water is set, you can get it in you'd like" you played with the water just a bit.

Aventurine put a hand onto your shoulder and gave you a kiss on the cheek "Mhm sure, arent you getting in honey?"

"I am, i am.. what, you need help with your towel?"

"Is that an offer, sweetheart?"

"…forget I said anything then" he snorted and smirked hearing your retort

As soon as both of you had done removing eachother's towels, both of you get in the bath tub.

Aventurine, gets in slowly, almost like as if he was scared to break the water itself. Adorable, really. To see a man who acts so smug and so sure of himself, express nervousness when he's just taking a bath with his one and only lover. You noticed his nervous behavior and you cant help but let out a light chuckle, "Scared much, Avey?".

In which he reply "Nonsense, lovely." however to contrast his words, he stammered on his words he spoke. It's not that noticeable, so he hopes you don't notice it.

yet ofcouse you would notice it and scooch over to him closer and give him a little kiss on his shoulder and snake an arm on the back of his waist. Just a way to tease him, just a bit.

He flinched slightly by your touch and scoffed "Devil much huh? oh sorry, I meant hell spawn." you laugh, "Not my fault that handsome here is so stiff. Come on, I'll wash your hair and you wash mine"

He let you do as you please with him. It felt oddly nice to have someone taking care of him for once in a lifetime. You do it so gently with him too, now how could he not feel at least slightly emotional when only such a few people have given him comfort and almost all of them have died? And now here you are, taking care of him like he's a stray cat.

He just can't help it but say

".... I'm glad I met you, I love you, sweetheart."

Jing Yuan

✦ 01 Big cat. Very big cat.

✦ 02 Big cat flop onto the bath tub

✦ 03 Big cat will ask u to wash his hair (uncertain he would do the same tho)

✦ 04 Will sleep if u take too long to shampoo his hair.

✦ 05 Cold water can do the trick to wake him up

✦ 06 Would probably pull you in a huge hug too.

When Jing Yuan got on the bathtub, it was almost as if he hogged all the space that were available. "Hey, how come I don't get a room?" You complained. Which he replies with a lazy smirk "you can just sit on my lap?"

An awkward pause fills up the room, and the longer the pause, the more contagious the little pink blush is on your cheeks which he just cannot help himself to laugh. "Well? Would you like to, dove?" In which you just let out a whine.

Eventually, you cave in and give into his whims. It's not like there's any other way to get in the bath tub without any of his body parts being touched by you. Now here you are, sitting on top of his lap, looking like a confused cat, don't know where to leap next.

It was a sight for sore eyes. You looked cute, now he can't help but let out a playful chuckle and bring you forward to him. "Why so stiff? Is it your first time seeing me stripped? I don't think so…" Worst part, he gave you his signature little lazy smile, looking like he has no wrongdoings.

"That's… Irrelevant, just let me do your hair, baobei." Hence, he let his head down and let you untie his ponytail, and do the rest

While you were washing his hair, his eyelids suddenly felt heavy. He couldn't help it, it felt so good to have your delicate yet skillful fingers all over his scalp. It just so happens that you were doing too great of your job.

"Baobei, it's done~!" You twisted his hair and stuck it into the top of his head. "Baobei?" You called him out again. No response.

Out of suspicion, you raise his head to show his sleeping face. Ah, in all of the places in the universe.. he just had to sleep at this moment, you thought. Abruptly, you had a really… Devious plan to wake him up.

Jing Yuan really just needed to rinse the shampoo away and he'd be done. But instead of using the warm water, just use the icy cold water to wake him up. And perhaps instead of using the shower, why not just pour a bucket full of it? That's exactly what you did.

Sure, it's quite literally deceitful, but at least it gets the job done. It's hard to wake up this big general, so a bucket of cold water could do.

You took a small bucket lying around the bathroom and filled it up with cold water. Little did you know, Jing Yuan was already awake when you were done with his hair.

You swear you didn't feel the water vibrations changing, but somehow, he's already in your shoulder while you were still not done filling the bucket.

"Mmnh… What are you doing my Qīn qīn? Not trying to splash me with the cold water aren't you?"

Drat. How did he even—

"No-no… O-ofcourse not.."

"Then what is it for, hm?"

"I…" You decided to give up from the act. Goddamnit, you were so close!

"you know what? yes, I was, now.. have a taste—!" You splashed the water into his face. Yet, no response. Not even a reaction, single flinch, nothing… Literally unfazed.

"Mhm, it takes more than that to even make me flinch, baobei dear."

Sunday

✦ 01 Asking to bath with Sunday isn't really that hard... But he would reassure you if you want to do it, it's a very intimate action to bathe with one another.

✦ 02 But bathing with Sunday is like bathing with an angel in a cloud

✦ 03 He'd be so soft, delicate. As if scared to even hurt you, make a wrong move.

✦ 04 Though, as delicate as he can be, he expects you to do the same.

✦ 05 He would let you wash his wings, but be gentle with them!

✦ 06 Once again, his touch is so gentle. Like imagine him washing your face with his thumbs just circling your cheeks

"Dear, turn your head downwards for me please?" He asked. Your boyfriend, Sunday, couldn't have been more gentler. He's washing your hair and your whole body with firm yet gentle strokes. You did as he asked and turned your head downwards. "Good girl/boy..." and thus felt the warm water wash away all the foam that covered your entire frame.

"Mm... Shouldn't I be the one praising you, angel?" He let out a silent chuckle "And who's being the obedient one here, hm?" It was a somewhat convenient playful banter between the two of you. Convincing the other that they're better.

Once you're done, Sunday gave one last splash of water to your hair and scrub off any remaining shampoo or soap that still be sticking around. "There, all done." He gave a wet kiss on the forehead. Which you unintentionally let out a giggle. "Hey this isn't fair, can't I bathe you too?" You note, it was true, all this time who's getting the royalty treatment is just you. "Do you want to? If so you could do that.."

An unanticipated idea came up from your oh so brilliant head "How about I wash your wings?"

"..." He hesitated just a bit. If truth be told, he was quite... Anxious to lend you his wings. Just what if you accidentally pulled one of the feathers? "How about my.. body, dear? My hair?" He recommended

"I mean— sure.. but can I wash your wings? Pleasee?" You insisted and pleaded. You even crawled your way to his chest, he felt compelled to kiss that face of yours and hug you tight. Just how can he reject you? "Fine, fine... But be extremely gentle." He sighed.

You started on with his right wing. Once you've held it, the wing flinches by accident. You poured the soap into your hand and started caressing the tip of his wing, cleaning all the dirt or dust that was there. "Does this hurt, sunday?" Through which he denies "no, absolutely not, darling. You're doing great" and purred as you do his wings

As you did the other wing, he kept purring like a pigeon being petted. Perhaps it was to imply that he was very enjoying this.

"Enjoying this much, love?"

"Very" he cood "oh, and thank you, I love you darling.." you giggled in response as you rinse both of his wings "I love you too."

✧ XTRA : i fking gentlemenfied sunday dawg :sob: also this was vv rushed, thats why it keeps getting shorter from aven to sunday (Aven is 430 words n sunday is 400 words) but oddly enough jy is 560 words💀 cringed so bad in jy's part tho like i speedrun that shit & gonna write guitarist bf kazuha after this