xynoford

[xynoford]

HELL YEAHH

invincible is dragging me back by the ankles

thinking about a human!reader who has lived a pretty decent, normal existence. at least, as normal as it could be with all the hero's trying to exterminate world ending threats daily, and leaving major cities in ruins afterwards. the death of the guardians made the threats worsen over time.

one day, as you were taking your usual midnight stroll, you were stopped by the one and only, omni-man. his only excuse? he said and i quote.

“human, it has come to my attention that you’re releasing strange, aphrodisiacal pheromones; and it has become a problem for me.”

you blink once, twice, thrice, and you’re eyes widened as you finished processing his sentence. you were releasing sexy pheromones?? where was it during your days in college? your vision on omni-man’s flushed face trails down to his pelvic region, where his ragging boner was making itself known beneath his suit.

cue to nolan dragging you to an empty alleyway, stripping you both butt naked, and riding you until you left his hole gaping and filled to the brim with your cum. he let out an uncharacteristic, longing moan as he painted your chest in white.

turns out he’s been wanting you for a while ever since he first caught whiff of your scent that one afternoon a week ago as he was defeating a kaiju.

as for the “aphrodisiacal pheromones” you seem to unknowingly release daily: it only seems to affect nobody else but nolan. you don’t have a problem with it though, as long as you continue to fuck the number one super “hero,” you don’t need anything else.

that’s until mark appears before you with an embarrassed grin and a hard on of his own. then his other variants appeared like beasts in heat, and now conquest. yeah, you’re a viltramite magnet.

[xynoford]

clark has to be absolutely pathetic during sex. he has to be. i cannot imagine that the guy who says "what the hey, dude" to a dog is anything but entirely embarrassing when he's being fucked

eyes wide, diligently watching your face. and only your face. it'd be far too much, too humiliating? arousing? dirty to watch your fingers slowly sink into himself. it's already so much just feeling it. so he watches you. your face. how your brow evens out and lips break into a smile, huffing out a laugh after he gives a deep, breathy "wow" to how full he feels around you. your hand. only your hand

"feel that good, huh?"

he knows, somewhere in his brain he knows. knows you're just teasing him. but he's clark and he's always so painfully earnest. all he can do is numbly nod along to your teasing, because it does feel that good. you always feel good

it's so easy to forget sometimes that he's superman, with his eyes big, watching you. like you're doing something incredible. like you're a hero. saying things like "gosh" and "oh dear", like you're doing anything more than desperately stuffing your fat dick as deep as he can take it, desperately trying not to snap your hips and fuck into him rough and relentless.

because he has to like it slow - raw and intimate. fucking him always feels like the first. i can't imagine him ever getting used to the feeling of sex. it's not quite new everytime, not that you'd be able to tell from how he sounds. clark is quiet, on a technicality

he's not screaming. he's panting through it all. groans come out, deep and harsh. and with how tightly he holds onto you, holding you close, it's impossible for all of his noise not to be the only thing you can hear.

he's vanilla and sappy and his presence is all-consuming during sex. god fuckinh i need him. baadly

[xynoford]

Legit thought this was abt dorian grey

do you have any NSFW dorian headcanons? :3c

I do!!

Dorian.

Big dick, quite thick too. Also big balls.

He doesn't have a high libido, can go without sex for a very long time. Although if you wanted to have sex frequently he'd probably be up for it.

Despite his big frame, he's used to bottoming because of his past relationship with Keith. Although he didn't have romantic relationships before or after that, he did use to top.

Really likes being choked. And if you have the strenght you should manhandle him, he gets flustered extremely fast.

He doesn't like degrading too much. He is much more of a praise guy.

Even though he can either top or bottom depending on your taste, he will mostly be submissive. He can dom, but he's so used to always being on high alert and looking tough that it's calming for him to just let go.

VERY into pet play. He loves being muzzled. If you get him a custom collar he will melt. Doggy bed? Plug with a tail? He's in heaven. He also likes sleeping in your room outside of the pet play thing because he's right there to protect you.

A bit of a humilliation and masochist tendencies. Yes, he doesn't like being degraded, but make him do humilliating stuff and he gets subby very quickly. Spanking him as a punishment also gets him inside sub space very quickly.

Scratch him, bite him, mark him. He is usually fully clothed but knowing the marks are there make him feel loved.

Likes both overstimulation and Edging, but prefers edging just a bit more. For that, you can get him a custom cockcage. He'll wear it for as long as you want him to... but deal with an extremely needy Dorian afterwards.

Throat king. That's it.

Used to quickies, but prefers to have normal sex as he can have more time to please you.

I'll think of more... but that's it for now!

[xynoford]

Homosexuality is a spectrum:

im both

[xynoford]

Micro dicks 141, all of them got 1-2 inchers when hard bc I make the rules.

Dni: minors, fem aligned (idc if you read just don't let me know), no pronoun or no age anywhere accounts

CW/TW: overstim, oral, fingering, cock worship, ball worship, sissification (kinda, you call their cocks 'clits' or 'cocklets' or 'dicklets'. You may call their asshole a 'cunt' or 'pussy'. You may also call them girly things like "pretty girl" etc), praise, condescending praise, humiliation, virgin implied (kinda) 141 because why tf not, crying, screaming, "trying" to get away but not actually trying (like leg closing, crawling away, but wanting to be pulled back to do whatever reader wants bc they would safeword or push you off otherwise).

Reader is GN but can be read as implied masc-aligned, and implied able-bodied!

Sorry if this is buns, I'm outta practice and still recovering, BUT I just want micro dick 141 around me right now. Need dat!!

Price-

"There you are, pretty girl." You smile at the way he shudders beneath you, eyes wide and glassy - as if in disbelief that he likes this - likes what you've convinced him to do.

John's all dolled up in a long skirt, the flowing type that ends near the ankles. His upper body in a loose sweater, something long and soft, the type that reaches past a person's fingers and covers them completely. His lips got a subtle shine to them, his eyelashes darkened and curled up. He didn't let you go too feminine, but perhaps one day you'll have him in an all pink outfit.

"Not a girl." He hisses between his teeth, pressing his lips into a thin line when your fingers push up against his prostate. His feet are planted on the bed, his knees up and spread just so, his skirt riding up just to end at his knees - yet still, it bares everything to your gaze - especially that cute little cock that's leaking like a broken faucet between his strong thighs.

"No? Then why you've got a clit, hm? Dressed like a proper woman, modest and sweet." You hum, barely holding back a smile at the way his walls clench around you. His eyes tear up a bit more, in a way that has you cooing at him meanly.

"Should just keep you at home stuffed full all the time, princess. You haven't a need to use that brain of yours, when you've got a perfect hole and clit for me to use." He sobs at your words, his pathetic cock twitching and letting out watery spurts of cum - his thighs closing around your pumping fingers - trying to get them to stop for just long enough to catch his breath.

"Pl-please," he chokes out, feeling your other hand grab his knee - forcing him open by maneuvering yourself - using your own knee to press down on his leg, your body keeping his legs spread wide. His skirt rides up, and his sobs get worse as your free hand starts to rub his dick. Shaking from overstimulation, the sensitive drag of your fingers against his walls that rhythmically squeeze around your digits.

"Got to make my little whore satisfied, yeah? You can give me a few more, can't you?" And he sniffles, having no other choice but to let the pleasure rebuild on his sensitive body. Course he could push you off if it's too much, but it's so much more fun to be brought to the edge over and over until he's a blubbering mess.

Gaz-

"Fuck, I can't-" Gaz rasps, body glistening with sweat from how fucked out he is. Your mouth is hot, wet, and suckling down his third release. Your fingers are curled deep inside of him, pressing against his prostate as much as you can.

You pull off with a hum, pressing a kiss to the small tip of his cock - delighting in the way he jolts - too sensitive, nerves too fired up and jumping at every brush.

"You can't? Can't take another moment to cum? Another rise of pleasure? Oh that's just too bad, huh, sweetheart?" You pout at him with mock sympathy, watching the way he gears up to say something - only to scream when your free hand flicks his cock.

"Oh, poor baby. Did that hurt? But you're such a good girl, you can take it yeah?" He shudders, chest heaving as your fingers keep curling and stroking his inner walls. The flick to his cock hadn't hurt, but it damn sure sent a flash of a prickly sort of pleasure through his exhausted body.

"You fucking pric-" he quickly cuts off when your mouth is on his cock, his hands pushing at your shoulders as he shakes hard. You're not being gently, your sucking at his small cock like it's a hard piece of candy. It has his hips bucking uncontrollably, all sorts of keens and sobbed out noises leaving his lips.

"Let's be nice, sweet girl. You don't want to be tied down and have a bullet tied to your clit now, do you?" Your murmured words around his flesh has him letting out a scream, the vibrations doing him in, watery cum hitting the back of your throat as he sobs through his orgasm. The fourth one just too much for him to handle, so his slick body slumps, lax against the bed. (You take care of him of course).

Soap-

"Fuck, are you going to stay between my legs all night?" He grunts out, thighs shaking on either side of your head. Your hands are clasping at his thighs to keep him from crushing you, from stopping you from worshiping the most sweetest part of his body.

You hum in answer, feeling him jolt at the vibrations running through his sensitive veins. You've got your mouth enveloping his cock and balls together, cradled in your mouth, your tongue laving away at his skin.

"Jesus fuck! Don't-don't hum. Nearly brought me to tears." He breathes out hard, pupils dilated and cheeks flushed a rosy red - he's never seen someone so enthusiastic about his cock, small little thing that it is - has had too many people turn away from him.

But you? Ever since you've gotten your hands on him, his cock and balls are practically dripping with your spit daily. He swears that any moment there's a lull in activity, you just-

"FUCK!" He cries out, thighs squeezing in a way that has you doubling down, knowing he's close. "Please, fuck, oh God please, wait, shite-" he babbles out, watching with wide eyes are you hum and suck around his cock nice and firm. It's too much, especially as you chase his cock when his hips buck, refusing to let up.

"Baby, please ah can't-" he sobs, tears slipping down those flushed cheeks. He can't even see you through his tears, but from the blurriness, he swears he can see you smiling around his cocklet and balls. And the thought of you enjoying his squirming and crying, it's enough to make him spill into your mouth, damn near squealing at the way your tongue greedily coaxes out more as you swallow it all down.

Ghost-

Ghost doesn't know how this has happened. Well, that's a lie. He does know how he's got himself in this position, but he doesn't feel like reminiscing much. Not when your fingers twist inside of him in a way that has him keening in an embarrassingly high way.

"Good girl, did that make your cunt feel good? Having fingers touch your sweet spot?" Your voice is sickly sweet, yet so endeared towards him. It makes him shudder, burying his face into your neck to pant, to have a moment's reprieve from the embarrassment he feels.

"Aw, don't be shy now, lass. You're so pretty f'me, even sound so sweet like the bird you are." Your lips press against his temple, your fingers twisting again to make him whimper.

Ghost shouldn't be sat here like this. On your lap, dressed in girly clothes you bought in his size. Some soft pink, pastel crap that's not like the dark and rough fabric he's used to when deployed. With some skirt that barely covers his ass when he stands, but covers his cock since... well...

"Back up a bit, baby girl. Can't reach your pretty cocklet if you're clinging to me, yeah?" Your words, ironically explain just why the stupid skirt keeps his cock hidden. Tiny little thing on such a big man, yet you adore it, calling it sweet yet degrading names like 'cocklet'.

But he listens, shaking on your lap as he pulls back. He's straddled there, shakily beginning to ride your fingers while your other hand blessedly rubs against his cock tip. His gasp must be music to your ears, because your grin has his hips stuttering.

"There's my pretty little dove. Do you feel good? All dolled up and letting me give you the pleasure you need. A full cunt, and fingers on your dicklet." Your voice makes him shudder, but he nods, even if you can see the pure embarrassment he feels. He's sure his face is all red, and from the way he's sniffling, he just might be close to tears. It's humiliating, but so fucking freeing to be brought to this level. To be made feminine, to be made soft and taken care of.

"M'gonna cum if y'keep talkin' t'me like tha'." He whispers, jerking on your fingers when they press against his prostate harder - and your other hand rubs at his cock like it's a clit - firm little circles that have him panting harder, shaking even more.

"Then squirt on my fingers f'me, love. Wanna see my sweet little thing feel good." Is all Ghost needed to hear before he's going still, eyes rolling back into his head while fat tears slide down his cheeks. He's letting out high pitched sounds he didn't know he could make, whimpering when he hears you praise how much like a sweet little bird he sounds as he cums.

(I need to have Ghost as my giant fem boyfriend. NEOW!!!!!)

[xynoford]

Thinking about pushing an old bottom to the edge and seeing how much he take. In the beginning he’s all “go slow, boy” “be gentle” “haven’t done this in a while only to end up spread wide in the most obscene way joints aching in protest practically skewed onto your fingers. You’d think he’d break at this point but instead he’s got his hand locked onto your neck, and sneering in your face, telling you “you’re gonna break this old man is that what you want huh? Well then you’re gonna have to try harder“ Voice faltering as you start pounding your fingers into him

[xynoford]

superbat but put me in between them ❗️

[xynoford]

sub male character x dom amab!reader

there's nothing i love more than feminizing the shit out of an older man. he's spread wide open on the bed, cock leaking pathetically against his stomach as you finger his soaked hole open. he can't even look you in the eyes, cheeks flushed red down to his chest because he can't believe he's letting someone younger than him turn him into this much of a mess. he keeps trying to cover his face with one arm, panting into his elbow like he isn't moaning with every thrust of your fingers. "don't get shy on me now," you coo, curling your fingers deep in his ass. "look at you—pussy sucking me in so good. such a good fucking girl." he whimpers, hole clenching down hard around your digits at the praise. "say it," you murmur, pressing a kiss to the inside of his thigh. "say you're my good girl." he chokes, sobbing into the sheets. “i’m—i’m your good girl,” he moans, shaking. “please…fuck me like one—fill my pussy up—ruin me—” you smile, dragging your tongue along the base of his cock. you spread your fingers in his tight ass, working him open. "yeah that's right, doll. gonna fuck you real good 'cos good girls get their pussy ruined, right?"

[xynoford]

He really hated your hands.

Especially in moments like those, when you got him seated on your lap like some plaything, making out with him. His arms wrapped around your neck as little sobs and whimpers escaped his throat. Your hands wandered all over his body, groping at him however you wanted. The way you held him, touched him, made him let out shameful noises with them… despicable.

It took a while until you broke the kiss, stealing his breath without permission, leaving him a panting mess. Such an addicting and dizzy feeling, he had to close his eyes and take a few deep breaths before opening them again. By that time, your hands were already wrapped loosely around his throat.

When and how did that even happen? And why— why were you slowly digging your thumbs into his trachea?

His eyes searched for yours, filled with tears and shaking. Those hands that were holding onto you moved to claw at your wrist, cheeks flushed like always. “You mentioned you are into choking once.” That was all you said in your defence, and he just felt a shudder run down his spine, straight to the heat in his crotch.

He was shaking with excitement, after all.

This was becoming unbearable, you moved so carefully after all. At first he could still breath, it was just more difficult to do so, but by the time you were truly squeezing, he was gagging and whining as his tongue lolled out. His voice was a meek and needy whisper as he said, “n-no, waaait~!! ♡♥︎ s-stop, hnNghh~ or m’gonna c-cum all over your shirt~!!”

Every instinct of his was screaming to push you away or yank your hands off, yet he refused to put up a resistance. He trusted you, he knew you wouldn’t hurt him. Besides it felt so good, his heart was pumping so fast and his brain was malfunctioning, shutting down on him. The sensation of it all was overwhelming, he couldn’t help it, it was pure ecstasy.

And that’s how he ended up cumming all over your lap in hot, white stripes. Mind and body melting from nothing but kisses and a little choking. When you released your grip, he slumped against you, panting, gasping for air as he twitched all pathetically. “Ah- hmm..! Ha-nghh, I-I told you… I’ll make a mess…♡♥︎♡” That might have been his most intense climax yet, now he’s wondering how good it will feel doing that while making love—?

In the end, you got yourself a trembling ruin who still haven’t recovered from the pure bliss you put him through, and scratch marks on your wrists and palms which he licked at like some cat.

Really, he hated adored your hands.

[xynoford]

Big dicked bottom whos so used to having ppl compliment his dick only to meet you who love to shame him for his size flicking the tip like it’s nothin telling him you can barely see anything might as well be a pussy asking him if he’s fucked anyone with it of course he hasn’t they wouldn’t be able to feel anything either way

[xynoford]

Simon Ghost Riley wants a souvenir (and I'm not sure if it makes sense in english)

MDNI | FDNI

Simon Ghost Riley x Top male reader 

Warnings: Alcohol, cumming out and Simon/Ghost is kinda out of character? maybe? idk his just sensitive ish but it's described that he isn't like that usually so yeah lol

Word count: 923

Doubtful english and grammar (idk if it makes sense I only put it here cuz english is not my first language so it may have some mistakes)

All content contained here is the intellectual property of @zombieloid on Tumblr. Do not copy or repost. ask before translating.

The task force and the soldiers it commands are camping on a mission. It's dawn, and you've just arrived at camp after another three-week mission, which you led. Ghost is your cabinmate (and fuckmate) and apparently doesn't care about your terrible smell, like a man who hasn't had a proper shower in almost a month.

You're sitting on the cabin's deck, staring at the fog shrouding the other cabins. It's almost 3 a.m., and the only sound is the rustling of the camp trees that shield you from the view of your adversaries, and the sound of your throat swallowing the old, straight whiskey from your canteen, the taste burning your empty stomach.

You were absorbed in your thoughts about the mediocre mission you had commanded, but not absorbed enough to not notice the weight behind you, creating a wall of sound in relation to the wind. "Lieutenant," you greet to let him know you noticed his presence without needing to look back.

You can identify it is him by the size and height of his presence. He approaches silently, and you stand to greet him more properly, but he ignores you, taking the bottle from your hands easily because you don't object. "I-" you begin, but he doesn't let you finish, pulling you into a kiss over his mask, which soon becomes wet with your drool.

It's been a while since you two last did this. You've been fuck buddies since your first months on the task force, but for about three months now, Ghost has been avoiding you profusely, always dodging you even when you approached him with questions about missions and military work in general.

You ended up accepting him, even though you were sure he hadn't found anyone else to sleep with. He couldn't trust anyone, and it was extremely difficult for you to even earn his trust.

But well, here he was now, kissing you desperately and rubbing his erection against your thigh, desperate for some friction as he pulls you into the shared cabin and pulls the mask up to your nose.

You could see his lips, almost purple from the masked kiss... His skin red and hot all the way to his neck... His blue eyes pleading in a silent plea. You know what he wants, but you don't know if you can give it to him. After all these months, he must be so tight, and you don't even have lube. "Simon—" you begin, but he interrupts you as if reading your mind. "I'm ready... I got ready while you were gone... just—please," he pleads, his voice cracking as if he's about to cry from lust.

You pull him into a kiss and push him onto the pallet and straw bed in the cabin, careful not to hit his head on the wood; he's already dazed enough without a concussion. You position yourself between his legs, which open for you like the Red Sea parts for Moses. You kiss a little longer before he's whimpering and begging you to fuck him. It's weird. It doesn't feel right.

Simon isn't usually like this, so needy for you, so vulnerable... It feels wrong to do this to him now when he seems so affected by something you can't quite put your finger on.

His legs wrapping around your waist pull you from your thoughts. You know you won't be able to talk to him in this state, so all you can do is give him what he wants and hope he'll be more receptive to conversation in the morning.

You pull down his sleep pants, throwing them on the cabin floor, and lower your own enough to pull out his cock. Your hand goes to his hole, and well, he wasn't lying when he said he'd prepared himself, but you decide to open him a little wider to make sure there's no discomfort.

He moans and begs, all he wants is your cock deep inside him. He groans at the feel of your fingers inside him, burying his head in your shoulder to muffle the noises and moans he makes.

You prepare him quickly, as he's already stretched out and too irritated to wait. He moans in anticipation when he feels your fingers pull out of him and his cock enter right after. You almost roll your eyes at the sensation.

He's so tight even after being prepared. You bottom out while Simon seems to hold his breath to keep from screaming in pleasure. You stay still for a while until he starts moaning and whimpering again, begging you to move, which you do.

Your thrusts are slow and controlled, and it seems to be driving Simon crazy. He cries and begs for you to go faster, which you eventually do, pushing you both closer and closer to orgasm.

Your thrusts become sloppier and lose rhythm as Simon's moans turn into whimpers and a bunch of "please, please, more, don't stop!" until you hit his sweet spot, making him scream while painting his chest white, and his grip on your cock becomes unbearable. Making you pull out to cum on his chest, which he complains about, unsure if it's because he doesn't want you to dirty him or because he wants you to fill him with your cum.

Either way, you fall next to him, dazed and breathless, before getting up to grab some tissues and clean yourself, throwing them in the trash, and throwing yourself back on the straw bed while Simon snuggles into your chest. "I missed this," you murmur against his hair. "I missed you," he whispers against your chest before falling into a deep sleep.

Well, you'll definitely have to have a serious talk about this confession in the morning, but for today, you're content with having Simon cuddled in your arms and feeling his heartbeat.

[xynoford]

Hi! I saw your hcs on your other blog, and I loved them!! I’m excited to see longer fics from you, if you feel motivated of course!<3

Could I get a Daryl x M!Reader where they discover that Daryl had a praise kink?

daryl with a praise kink — nsfw, top male reader

synopsis: title/req says it🙏 pure smut, possibly slight ooc

word count: 770

writing this during very late hours of the night.. haven’t really looked over it so might b a bit drabbleish but enjoy anyway :p

ALSO THANK YOU!!! i’m so glad to hear that, requests always motivate me to write

daryl panted under your touch. you hovered, your chest barely an inch above his. your hips slowly rolled into his, making him feel every thread of your jeans brawl.

his mouth hung open with an arm around your shoulders, the other hand gripping your tricep like his life depended on it. you massaged the back of his thigh, fingertips tracing little circles before you pushed his legs further apart. daryl’s hips stuttered as they bucked into yours, his head reeling back.

“sensitive, ain’t you?” “shut up,” he muttered back, barely above a whisper. “the hell’ya doin’ this for?” he squirmed as your breath ran down the side of his neck. “doin’ what?”

“makin’ me wait,” he hissed. “you wanted this in the first place, yer bein’ such a tease.” “this is for you, hun, you got it twisted.”

he pulled his head back, and looked at you with narrowed eyes, pushing for an explanation. “don’t see how this is f’ me.” “calm down, y’know how good i’m gonna make you feel?”

he let out an exasperated sigh.

“be patient, dixon. just sit there ‘n look pretty for me, okay? you don’t even have to try to do that.”

his stomach turned at your words, despite the mocking tone. his hips jolted, searching for more friction, and he prayed you wouldn’t notice his face flush.

just that, you did. your eyebrows scrunched before slightly raising. toughest guy on earth and he’s flustered at “pretty”?

his eyes caught the way yours were fixated on him, and immediately darted a different direction, anywhere but you.

“you—” “don’t.”

you couldn’t help but grin at his embarrassment. you brought a hand up, gently brushing the hair away from his face. he tried to turn his head to the side, but you held his chin and turned it right back. he couldn’t hide from you.

you pressed your lips against his, messy and excited. his cheekbones felt hot before he reciprocated. the grinding of your hips grew rougher. in response, he let a mix of a gasp and a groan seep onto your tongue.

he rolled you over so he was on top. you shifted up, your upper back resting against the headboard. he straddled your lap and ground his hips down to yours, uncoordinated.

your hands held his waist, trying to guide his movements to a rhythm. it took a second, but he gave in, and let you guide him without resistance.

you jumped your hips in sync with his rolling down, pressing the right amount of pressure to his dick. his head dropped as he sharply inhaled. crescent shaped indents scattered on your shoulder from his nails digging into your skin as he held on, in attempts to ground himself.

one of your hands drifted to his lower back, putting more force in the contact. he rested a hand against the wall above you and panted, struggling to catch his breath. you let out a small moan just at the sight; it was almost too perfect. you tucked the outgrown bangs behind his ears.

“you’re so damn handsome like this, daryl.” his eyes squeezed shut. your voice was intoxicating, making him chew his lip to silence himself. you spoke again, barely under your breath, “you’re so good for me.”

his hands flew down to your belt, impatient and messy as he undid the buckle. his hips rutted against yours even rougher. “since when do you want it this bad?” you slightly chuckled, his eagerness taking you by surprise.

he paused, ashamed of the rose tint that sat across his face.

holding his chin in between your index finger and thumb, you pointed his head towards yours. he fought the urge to break the eye contact. he couldn’t believe the mess he was because of your compliments.

you spoke low, flooding with tease. “nothin’ wrong with liking a little bit of praise, baby, i want you to know how perfect you are.” “shut up— shut the hell up,” his gravelly voice breathy and strained, trying to swallow sinful noises as he leaked pre.

you slowly undid his belt as you watched him try to deny how he loved it. you inched his jeans down before he lifted his hips, desperate to have them off, impatiently pushing them down.

he tore yours off once his were gone, and immediately closed the gap between your chests as he sloppily kissed you. you thrusted up to him, making a guttural sound rip from his throat from the heat of skin to skin, finally getting the contact he was throbbing for. it was going to be a looong night.

[xynoford]

TAMARANEAN TROUBLE (AND A JEALOUS BIRD)

pairing: nightwing x male reader synopsis: Meeting your boyfriend’s ex was never easy, especially when she’s a literal goddess. But turns out she’s way more charming than you anticipated—and your new friendship with her starts to drive Dick a little nuts.

You had expected to feel a little awkward meeting his ex. After all, how often does someone casually meet the woman who used to date the guy you’re currently in love with—especially when that woman was the embodiment of alien royalty, radiant warmth, and god-tier beauty?

What you hadn’t expected was how nice she was.

“So you are Y/N,” Starfire said, floating slightly off the ground as she smiled at you with a kind of sunshine-bright sincerity that made it impossible to dislike her. “It is a pleasure to finally meet the one who makes Grumpy-Wing less grumpy.”

You laughed a little. “I—uh—thanks? It’s great to meet you too.”

And it was. But damn, she was...everything. Kind, smart, powerful, beautiful. You'd seen the pictures of her and Dick back in their early days—smiling, shoulder to shoulder, picture-perfect in ways that belonged on magazine covers and cheesy soap operas. Even now, years later, they moved around each other like they still shared an orbit. Not romantic—not anymore—but familiar.

And as the three of you moved through the Titan Tower that weekend, helping out with some team reconvening for a threat that thankfully didn’t escalate, you couldn’t help the thought that rooted in your head like poison ivy.

Why did you guys even break up?

They had chemistry. A history. Years of shared battles, shared glances, and emotional highs and lows. And you? You were just the guy Dick dated now. The guy who sometimes stumbled through fight choreography, who needed more coffee than sleep, and who couldn’t fly—unless you counted being thrown by a meta.

You didn’t voice it.

Of course not.

You smiled and teased, joined in the banter. But the seed had been planted. Every time she touched his arm affectionately or burst into laughter at something he said, it watered itself.

And Starfire? She was always so genuine with you.

“You are most humorous,” she beamed after you cracked a joke. “Dick never laughs that way. It is endearing.”

You blinked. “Thanks. I think.”

One afternoon, while Nightwing was busy coordinating with Cyborg, you and Kory found yourselves lounging on a terrace overlooking the bay, bathed in sunset light and quiet.

“You seem troubled,” she said gently, sipping something fizzy from a glass she probably made sparkle with her fingers.

“Nope,” you said. Then: “...Okay, maybe.”

She tilted her head. “Is it the comparison?”

You froze. She was looking at you with those big green eyes, not with judgment, but understanding. That made it worse somehow.

“I—what?” you asked, a bit too fast.

She smiled. “It is a natural thing. I have known Richard since he was very young, but that is no threat to what you share. If anything…” she leaned in a little, voice low, mischievous. “You and he are very hot together. It makes me wish I had taste in better timing.”

You stared.

“I mean it,” she went on, her smile widening as she leaned back. “Your dynamic is delightful. You challenge him. He softens around you in ways he never did before. And aesthetically? Glorious. Your hair alone could inspire three songs.”

You snorted. “Are you flirting with me?”

“I am complimenting,” she said innocently. “Unless you are open to being flirted with. In which case, yes.”

That was how you and Kory became best friends and when Dick began to act funny. Not in the ha-ha kind of way—no, you’d take goofy knock-knock jokes over what he was doing now.

First it was subtle. He started appearing in rooms he had no business being in. You’d be lounging in the common room, scrolling through Kory’s latest intergalactic memes, and suddenly Dick would appear with a clipboard, muttering something about “inventory checks.”

“In the living room?” you’d ask, raising a brow.

“Important living room supplies,” he’d mutter, shuffling cushions and trying very hard not to glare at your legs draped across Kory’s lap.

Then it escalated.

If Kory threw an arm over your shoulders in the hallway, Dick would suddenly need to “discuss patrol assignments.” If you so much as laughed too long at her joke, he’d swing by like a vulture in a domino mask, kissing your temple in a move so obviously territorial, it practically growled.

Kory noticed. Of course she did. She was a warrior, a princess, and now, your best friend. She took great delight in making your boyfriend squirm.

“Hello, Dick,” she would purr every time he showed up mid-conversation. “We were just discussing how your partner’s biceps have grown. He is becoming so sturdy.”

Dick’s eye would twitch. “Great. Love that. Very…sturdy.”

You tried to hide your smirk. Tried.

It all came to a head one evening while you and Kory were testing out her new “Earth-style fashion experiment.” Somehow, this translated into you wearing a sleeveless mesh top and Kory bedazzling your boots while perched upside down on the couch.

Dick walked in.

Paused.

Looked at you.

Then said, “Cool. When’s the drag show?”

You and Kory wheeze with laughter.

“Oh come on,” Dick huffed, folding his arms. “You two are literally one hair braid away from running off together.”

Kory beamed. “Do you give us your blessing?”

“I—what?! No—that’s not—” He pointed at you, then her, then back again. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

You stood up, sauntered over, and poked his chest. “Doing what, Grayson? Having fun without you?”

“You’re flirting.”

“She started it,” you said.

“And he is adorably receptive,” Kory added.

Dick groaned. “Unbelievable. My boyfriend and my ex-girlfriend are best friends and now they’ve unionized against me.”

You grinned and leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Hey. I’m still yours, y’know.”

He tried to stay mad. Really, he did. But the tips of his ears turned red, and his lips twitched upward despite himself. “Yeah. I know.”

Kory stood as well, looping an arm around each of your shoulders. “Do not worry. I will not steal your sparkly boyfriend.” She paused. “Unless you break his heart. In which case I will destroy you and then marry him on a moon garden beneath three suns.”

Dick stared. “That’s…oddly specific.”

“She’s been planning it,” you said, nodding seriously.

Kory winked. “I have the dress picked out.”

[xynoford]

SPLIT OPEN

pairing: patrick bateman x male reader synopsis: It was simply a fuck—you bending Wall Street's golden boy and using him like your personal toy—but for him? He became obsessed.

You never meant to wreck him.

Patrick Bateman—Wall Street’s golden boy, poster child of wealth and perfection—was never supposed to look at you like that. Not with flushed cheeks, bitten lips, and a ruined whimper stuttering out of him like a prayer. It was just a night. A quick fuck. You’d had better. You’d had worse. What mattered was that he wanted it—needed it—and you gave it to him.

Bent over his own $30,000 sofa.

Fingers twisted in his styled hair.

Fucking him open until he shook and sobbed and begged.

And then you left.

No kisses. No compliments. Just a whispered "You're welcome," and the click of your belt as you walked out of his penthouse and out of his life.

Or so you thought.

Patrick couldn’t sleep. He tried. He tried everything.

Valium.

Sex.

Murder.

Nothing worked.

Nothing felt as good. Nothing made him feel that raw, that undone, that owned. You had fucked him like he was just a thing—just a warm hole to be used—and he hated how much he wanted to feel it again. How much he craved your hands, your voice, the weight of you pinning him down like he was nothing.

Nobody had ever taken him like that. And now? Now you wouldn’t even answer his calls. So he started sending gifts.

A Rolex. You returned it.

Designer shoes. You tossed them.

A custom Tom Ford suit, tailored to your measurements. You sold it.

You didn’t want him and that drove him fucking insane.

The killings came faster now.

Messier.

He didn't even try to be neat. Every man who looked at you too long? Slaughtered. That smarmy guy at your gym who made you laugh while spotting your squats? Head caved in with a dumbbell. The barista who said “See you tomorrow” with a wink? Shot in the alley behind the café. Patrick didn’t even check for cameras anymore.

It didn’t matter.

You were his.

And if he had to paint the city in blood for you to see it—fine. He had the dry-cleaning budget.

He showed up at your apartment one night, suit wrinkled, tie missing, hair a mess—not the Bateman you remembered. He looked haunted. “Don’t close the door,” he said when you opened it.

You leaned against the frame, chewing gum. “Oh. It’s you.”

His eye twitched. “Don’t be cruel.”

“You followed me home. That’s creepy, not romantic.”

Patrick’s voice cracked. “You broke me.”

You blinked. “Because I fucked you?”

He flinched. “Because you left. Because I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.”

“You were supposed to be a fuck,” you said, stepping forward, jaw tightening. “Not a project. Not a stalker. You came. You moaned. You cried on my dick. That was the deal.”

Patrick swallowed. His eyes were glossy. “I want it again. I want you. You can do whatever you want to me. Just—don’t ignore me.”

You tilted your head. “And if I say no?”

He stared at you. Then smiled. That twitchy, unstable kind of smile that stretched too wide and didn't reach his eyes.

“Then I’ll keep going,” he said. “Until I matter. Until you can't ignore me. Until you look at me again like you did that night.”

You didn’t slam the door in his face.

You didn’t invite him in either.

Instead, you grabbed him by the tie of his crumpled shirt and shoved him back against the hallway wall.

Patrick let out a strangled gasp, knees nearly buckling as your hand wrapped around his throat.

“I should kill you,” you said, voice low.

Patrick’s pupils dilated. “Then do it, but please fuck me before you do.”

You stared at him. The desperation. The slick obsession behind his perfect, crumbling face.

“…Get inside,” you ordered.

He obeyed.

The second time was worse than the first.

Worse for him, because he cried. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he begged for more. Nails scratching your back as you thrust into him harder than the last time, your palm pressed over his mouth to muffle the screams.

"You like being nothing, don’t you?" you whispered, dragging your teeth across his jaw.

He nodded. Frantically.

"Say it."

“I’m—yours,” he sobbed. “Please—please don’t leave this time—”

You came inside him. Deep. Rough. No condom. Just because you knew it would fuck with his head.

Just because you could.

He collapsed under you, shaking. He looked up at you like you were a god.

And you?

You just lit a cigarette and watched him fall apart.

Three weeks later, Patrick Bateman hadn’t killed anyone. Not because he was better, but because you were finally calling him back.

You weren’t dating, no.

But you let him kneel.

You let him beg.

And when he got too loud, too possessive, too dangerous?

You bent him over again and used him like your personal toy.

[xynoford]

THIS W JOEL AND TOMMY OMFG

cause of my cheating fic i been brainwashed about reader two timing brothers

im thinking reader makes plans to go to a hotel with one brother then forgets and makes a plan with the other brother at the same day and time and then he just gets caught with both of them showing up confused why their brother is here, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out

reader just thinks he’s sooo screwed but instead the brothers end up fighting smth like “ppf no shot you can make him cum like i do!!” and the other goes “uh huh not your virgin ass talking” then they just go to reader trying to prove that they are more worthy of him

smth smth pin reader down and just eating his cock like its a dessert or maybe duo riding? one on his cock and the other on his face

just a thought

[xynoford]

cw: top male reader, shotgunning smoke, feminization, ftm undefined character, overstimulation, breeding.

"c'mere."

he obeys your command like it's second nature, hips still moving in an unrelenting pace. you've been at it for a while now.

you fuck up into him slowly. he's so wet from all the times he's come before, his cunt gripping your cock like a vice while you take another drag of your cigarette.

you grab his jaw, brushing a thumb against his bottom lip. he leans in, lips parting in anticipation.

you press your mouth to his, letting the smoke pass between you in a slow exhale. he gasps, feeling the smoke settling warm and heavy in his lungs.

"p-please," he whines against your mouth.

not even he knows what he's begging for—his brain is fuzzy, and all he can think about is you, your hands, your cock hitting so deep like you're trying to break him in half.

"s'too good." a sob escaped him, tears from overstimulation brimming in the corner of his eyes.

"my pretty thing. you can take it, can't you?" you grab his waist to make him bounce faster, angling your cock to repeatedly hit that spot inside that makes him melt, earning a higher-pitched moan from him.

"o-oh, fuck! [name]!" he releases all over you again, a mess of sweat and slick dripping between his legs. he buries his face in your neck to mute his cries and whimpers.

you slam into him—cockhead breaching his cervix—then come with a grunt, painting his insides white.

"you'll make me a mommy, r-right?" he whimpers in your ear. "y-you promised."

you don't stop, determined to spill every drop inside him.

"don't worry, love. i'll make sure it takes."

notes: random drabble since i wanted to try writing stuff like this. hope it's not too bad.

[xynoford]

hi there!! i was wondering if you can do a fic or some hcs on daryl x top male reader?? sfw or nsfw is up to you i just love the way you write daryl :3

daryl dixon x top male reader hcs — nsfw

got a bit carried away writing a reply to this n turned it into a full fic which is in now the drafts of my side blog.. might post that but i still wanted to do hcs so here are some that came to mind, kinda just blurbs n yaps but i digress

bottom daryl is so very peak man i need him</3 also thank you:3 that makes me wanna write some more, gonna do some daryl male reader fluff hcs soon perchance

in the beginning of your relationship, he’d stray away from sex for a while. he knew your preference and was almost afraid? to bottom, thinking it’d make him seem less tough. when he eventually wanted to test it out, there was no going back.

at first, he’d dislike it if you got touchy. he’d get a little pissy, moving your hand. although, he’d move them right back just before the pressure in him overflows, he needed your hands on him to get through the aftershocks.

daryl would prefer to keep his shirt on, especially the first few times. it took a while, but he’d get comfortable with it off, along with the idea of trying different positions. he’d love your chest pressed to his back, with you scattering sloppy kisses across his neck, whispering little nothings that made him cringe at how your sickly sweet words contrasted against your hips relentlessly grinding into him.

that was his favorite until you had him ride you for the first time. you can not tell me daryl wouldn’t love to ride.. one of your hands firm on his waist, guiding his movements, the other brushing the outgrown bangs away from his face. he’d have the perfect view of you, repeating his name under your breath as if it was a prayer.

i always see people on here say daryl would be vocal but i disagree. from him, it’d be messy, heavy, loud breathing. he’d mutter your name, moan a couple of times, but he’d never let himself scream. maybe he’d cry a little if overstimulated..

once he was comfortable, he’d smoke a cig, and would likely share it with you. he’d pretend he didn’t feel like melting every time you traced over his lip with your thumb when giving it back to him, but you knew it had him reeling

he tried to hide it, but he loved praise from you. it’d get a mix of a small laugh and scoff from him in a day-to-day setting, but during sex, you noticed how his eyes would roll back, his breath would hitch, how he’d twitch against your palm.

daryl would love to be on his knees. yeah, you’d have to guide him through it the first couple times, but as if he didn’t like it. you could tell from the way he’d quietly groan around you every time you gave him a pointer or ordered him around.

one last thing is that after, he’d likely be quiet. he’d help you clean up, and then let you move him around how you wanted to. whether you wanted to cuddle a certain way, or didn’t, he’d go right along. if you had to do something after, finish a run or somethin, he’d follow close behind you. almost like a dog.

i think these are kinda shit buuuuut i hope you enjoy ^_^