#BUT she can be sweet too and hes really one of the only people to experience that

[flowersforbucky]

i got it bad

logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)

word count: 4.9k

summary/prompt: logan can't help that he has super hearing and overhears you - wade's seemingly sweet, shy neighbor - telling vanessa what you fantasize about doing to him. believing that you won't ever act on it, he takes matters into his own hands.

or - getting yourself off on logan's abs

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, reader is afab, no use of y/n, logan's pov, porn with a little plot, male masturbation, teasing, nipple/breast play, some tit slaps, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, cream pie

Ever since Logan first met you, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his fucking head.

Which is really unfortunate for him, considering you seem indifferent to his existence.

Wade says that you're just an introvert, and that it takes you a while to get comfortable around new people, but after living across the hallway from you for the last few months, Logan is sure that you have no interest in him outside of simple, polite conversation whenever the two of you run into each other.

He first notices you from across the room when you enter Wade and Althea's apartment – his apartment now, too, he supposes. The small space is crowded, but you're impossible for him to overlook. He instantly recognizes you from the polaroid picture that Wade had showed him in the Void.

You’re greeted by Vanessa, who kisses you on the cheek and shoves a drink in your hand before dragging you over to where Logan is listening to Wade and Althea bicker about – what were they bickering about again? All he can focus on is the way your dress hugs your curves and the lipstick imprint that you’ve left on the champagne flute in your hand.

He needs to get out more. Go to a bar, get a job, maybe even try out one of those dating apps that Vanessa has suggested to him – something to get him out of this fucking apartment that he's stayed holed up in since arriving in this universe, because he should not be this flustered by a complete stranger.

“Earth to Peanut,” Wade snaps his fingers in front of Logan’s face. He barely processed anything Vanessa had said while she introduced you. Blah blah, neighbor, something something, lives down the hallway. “Jesus, did you get into the white powder under the floorboard? Your pupils are as big as saucers right now.”

“Oh, go easy on him, Wade,” Althea scolds. “It’s natural for pupils to dilate when looking at a pretty girl.”

The expression on your face matches how Logan feels – surprised, embarrassed, slightly mortified.

“You don't even know what she looks like. She could look like me for all you know,” Wade snorts.

“She brings me homemade cookies and she always smells good,” Al retorts. “I don't need to be able to see her to know that she's pretty.”

“Nice to meet you,” Logan finally speaks up with a forced smile. Leave it to his two roommates to make a simple introduction as awkward as possible. “And no, I am not high on cocaine,” he adds with a pointed glare at Wade.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Logan,” you return the sentiment with a chortle and shy smile. “And don’t worry, I never pay attention to anything Wade says.”

Yukio and her girlfriend with the long ass name that Logan has yet to memorize then walk up and gain your attention, leaving Logan wishing he could redo the entire interaction.

He spends the rest of the night hoping for an opportunity to talk to you again, and feeling disappointed when that doesn’t happen.

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time.

You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

As soon as the conversation starts to venture into more personal territory, you seem to shut down. You’ll make some excuse about having somewhere to be, wish him a good day, and then you’re gone.

He can’t help himself. He sees how carefree and talkative you can be with Vanessa and hell, even Wade – and he wants that. At least then he may feel a little less crazy for spending so much of his free time racking his brain for ways to get closer to you.

Maybe it’s because it has been so long since he’s had a crush on anyone, but sometimes he thinks he might be losing his mind with how often he thinks of you – your smile, your eyes, your scent, your voice, and the way that having a five minute conversation with you always leaves him feeling for the rest of the day.

That’s why when he’s walking to his apartment one evening, and hears his name come from inside your apartment, he stops dead in his fucking tracks.

God, he knows he shouldn’t listen. He knows he should keep walking, go into his apartment and close the door.

But it’s not like he has his ear pressed up against your door. It’s not his fault that he has super hearing and that the apartment building has paper thin walls.

His brain is yelling at his feet to move but they stay planted firm right where they are.

“He thinks you don’t like him, you know,” Vanessa says. Logan doesn’t need to be able to see to know that there’s a smirk on her face.

He’s tempted to cause some kind of commotion in the hallway and then dash into his apartment, just to stop Vanessa from saying whatever the hell she’s about to say.

“Logan?” You sound appalled. “Of course I like him.”

“I know that you like him,” Vanessa chuckles. “But I can see why he would think otherwise. You act like you can barely stand to be in the same room as the guy for five minutes.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice shoots up several octaves higher than normal.

Logan sends a silent prayer to whoever the fuck is listening that no one walks down this hallway in the next few minutes and sees him standing still as a statue next to your apartment door.

“It’s not that I simply can’t stand to be in the same room as him,” you continue, lowering your voice back down to its normal volume. “It’s that being in the same room as him makes me want to jump his adamantium bones.”

For a second, he really believes that his two hundred year old heart might stop beating.

“I’m fucking pathetic around him,” you huff. “Last week, I saw him pull his t-shirt off in the laundry room to put a clean one on, and ever since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about grinding my pussy against his abs. Something is seriously wrong with me, Nes.”

But Logan doesn’t hear Vanessa’s response, because he speed walks away while she’s still cackling. By some miracle, Wade isn’t home, so Logan darts past Althea and locks himself in the bathroom.

What the fuck, Jesus Christ, and holy shit all play on a loop in his mind while he tries to ignore the bulge that has quickly formed in his jeans.

The last words he expected to hear anyone say today were jump his adamantium bones and grinding my pussy against his abs – but the fact that he heard those words come from your mouth in your sweet voice has his cock throbbing so hard that he can't think of anything other than you doing exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about.

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits –

He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now.

Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain.

When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

••••••

Logan hasn’t seen you in three days. Three days might not seem like a long time to go without seeing your neighbor, but it feels like a long fucking time for him. In fact, it’s the longest he’s gone without casually running into you since he first met you months ago.

There’s a reason for this, though – he hasn’t checked his mail in days, hasn’t taken any of his laundry down to the basement in days, and has generally tried to avoid leaving his apartment as much as he can out of fear that he’ll see you. He even went as far as to pretend to be napping when you came by with some fresh baked brownies for Althea yesterday.

He wants to see you, of course. Goddamn, does he want to see you. But after overhearing your conversation with Vanessa earlier this week, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to look you in the eye and pretend like he hasn't been making himself cum to the thought of you on top of him every time he takes a shower.

But after three days, he finds himself missing you too much to keep up his attempt at distancing himself from you.

What if he’s being ridiculous, staying cooped in this apartment to avoid you? What if you’re just down the hallway, thinking about him at the same time he’s thinking of you?

He's tidying up the kitchen when he sees the pink Tupperware container that you’d brought the brownies in yesterday sitting in the sink. The brownies were long gone – they’d all been eaten by him, Wade and Al within the same hour that you brought them over.

Taking the Tupperware back to you would be the nice, neighborly thing to do, right?

With Al already retired to her bedroom for the evening, and Wade out with Vanessa, he takes it upon himself to wash and dry the container.

It’s a Friday night, so he knows there’s a chance that you’ve got plans and might not even be home, but he still takes a few minutes to fix his hair and swipe some deodorant on before walking down the hallway towards your apartment.

As he approaches your door, he realizes that you are home. There’s light spilling from the crack at the bottom of the doorframe and he can hear low music playing inside. A mix of anxiety and anticipation sets in, but he clears his throat and knocks on your door before he can chicken out.

He hears your footsteps approaching and attempts to wipe any sign of nervousness from his face – he’s just returning your Tupperware, for Christ's sake.

“Logan,” you breathe as you open the door. “I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you greet him. He can’t help but relax at the smile that grows on your face when you realize it’s him. “What are you up to this evening?”

You lean against your doorframe, and Logan has to force himself to maintain eye contact. You’re wearing a matching pajama set – a cute pair of velvet shorts and tank top that shows more of your skin than he’s ever seen before.

“I – uh,” he stammers, holding out the Tupperware container to you. “I just thought I’d bring this back to you. They were great, by the way.”

Your smile spreads to your eyes at his compliment.

“Oh, thanks,” you beam. “I’m glad you got to have one. Wade told me that you were asleep when I came by yesterday so I figured he’d have them eaten by the time you woke up.”

“I’m sure he would have, but Al made him save one for me,” he laughs.

He tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but the fact that you look fresh out of the shower definitely isn’t fucking helping. Bare faced with the scent of your body wash and lotion on your skin, his thoughts begin to stray into dangerous territory fast.

“I don’t wanna interrupt your night, though. I’ll let you get back to—”

“You’re not,” you say quickly as he begins to step backwards. “You're not interrupting. Are you doing anything tonight? I just ordered a pizza and there’s plenty. I was gonna watch a movie, if you want…” You trail off, glancing back and forth between him and your apartment behind you.

He can't help but notice that your voice sounds hopeful.

The invitation excites him more than he cares to admit. Sure, the two of you have hung out plenty of times, but it's always been in a group setting – at one of Wade’s get togethers or movie nights, surrounded by other friends.

But never just the two of you – definitely never in your apartment.

He could never think of saying no to you. Especially not when this is what he's been hoping for since he first me you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that.”

You hold the door open for him, letting him enter your apartment. Right away, he notices how different it is from the one that he lives in. Then again, there’s three people cramped into Althea’s – you're the only person who lives here, so you're able to make it entirely your own.

It’s cute, and cozy, he thinks. From your furniture adorned with throw pillows and blankets, to all of your shelves stocked with books, knick-knacks and candles, to the various plants occupying space throughout the living room, it feels endearing and welcoming right away.

“So, where’s Wade at tonight?” you ask as he ventures into the living room. He notes a large cardboard box with an untouched pizza in it on your coffee table. His stomach growls at the sight, and it hits him that he actually is fucking starving.

“He’s out with Vanessa. Fourth time this week,” he answers, turning to find you retrieving two plates from a cabinet in your kitchen. You're angled away from him, and when you raise your arms to grab the plates, your tank top lifts enough to give him a clear view of your midriff. He quickly averts his gaze, pretending to find something on your bookshelf particularly interesting.

“I’m just really glad that they’ve worked through things and seem to be happy now,” you sigh. “He wasn’t in a good place after their breakup. Barely ever left his apartment for the longest time.”

“They’ve got something special, that’s for sure,” Logan agrees.

You hand him a plate, walking past him to your couch. You toss some of the decorative throw pillows to your recliner, making room for him on the sofa. You pat the empty space beside you, an invitation for him to make himself at home.

“Who knows, maybe they'll even get their own place soon and I won’t have to share the living room with him anymore,” he says as he sits down beside you.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

“Sounds like you just want Blind Al and Mary Puppins all to yourself,” you tease. You hand him a piece of pizza and close the box before propping your feet up on the table. You lean back, looking at him with a smirk and raised brows.

“If he moves, that dog is going with him and you know it. There’s no way he’d leave her behind,” he shakes his head.

“There’s no way Althea would let him take her. She's grown to be as attached to her as Wade is. I think even you like her more than you care to admit.”

“What can I say? She has a way of weaseling herself into your heart,” Logan sighs.

“Oh, it’s definitely the tongue,” you shrug through a bite of pizza.

Logan grimaces as a vivid image of Mary Puppins French kissing Wade awake flashes through his mind, but he can't help but laugh.

You turn on some action-comedy that Logan has never heard of, and the two of you eat and take turns making comments about whatever is happening on the screen for the first half of the movie.

He tries to stay focused on the film, he really does, but every now and then you readjust your position on the couch, causing him to catch a whiff of your perfume or your thigh will brush against his and he'll have to force his attention back to the characters on the screen.

No matter how distracting he may find your mere presence beside him, he's enjoying himself. This is by far the longest the two of you have hung out together, without the additions of his roommates and other friends. He dreads the moment that the movie ends and he’s obligated to tell you goodnight before reluctantly going back to his own apartment.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator.

It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

When you sit back down beside him, the sweet smell washes over him again and he bites the inside of his lip so hard that he tastes blood. The wound disappears as quickly as it’s formed, but the same can’t be said for the erection that begins to strain against the confines of his boxers.

He eyes the pile of small, decorative pillows that you had tossed to the side and wishes that he could grab one to place over his lap.

The words that you’d said to Vanessa a few days ago begin replaying in his mind for the thousandth time since he’d first heard you say them, reminding him this isn’t one-sided. He may be sitting here attempting to conceal a raging hard-on by shifting his position and subtly adjusting his pants, but Logan’s heightened sense of smell tells him that your underwear are probably starting to feel as uncomfortable as his do at the moment.

Without turning his head, he risks a glance at you. Your eyes are on the movie, and your face is neutral, but your posture gives you away. Your arms are crossed over your chest, the tips of your fingernails digging tiny crescent shaped indentations into the flesh of your upper arm. You have one of your thighs crossed over the other, locked together tightly but that doesn’t stop him from being able to smell how fucking wet you are.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid.

“But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

You turn to him, your eyebrows quirked but your face otherwise impassive.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. What exactly is it that you’d like to hear me say?” you ask innocently. You give him doe eyes that make his cock finish filling with blood.

He huffs a laugh, picking up on the way that your heartrate accelerates when you look at him.

“I'd like to hear you say what you said to Vanessa a few days ago,” he hums. “I can’t remember exactly, but I think it had something to do with you rubbing your sweet little cunt on my abs. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Hm,” you feign contemplation. “That doesn’t really sound like something I'd say.”

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

“You’re right. It doesn't sound like something you’d say,” he snorts, and leans in so that your face is just a few inches from his. “So imagine my surprise when I walked by your apartment to hear you talking about jumping my adamantium bones.”

He doesn't miss the way your breath catches in your throat or how your eyes flicker to his lips.

“You gonna do it? Or you just gonna keep thinking about it while you're sitting beside me?”

For a second, you say nothing and Logan struggles to read your expression. Then, without taking your eyes off of him, you slowly stand in front of the couch. You reach for the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up.

Logan's mouth goes dry. Suddenly, he's all out of smart remarks.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your pajama shorts, pushing them down your thighs along with your panties, and let them both drop to your feet all while holding his gaze.

With you now stark naked before him, he leans forward, grasping you by the backs of your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, gently pushing him back against the sofa.

He tugs his own shirt over his head while you undo his belt buckle and pop open the top button of his jeans, your hands fumbling when he sheds his shirt.

Logan doesn’t typically think too much about his physical appearance. He knows he’s in good shape, and thinks he’s conventionally attractive enough. But he could see himself getting a bit of an ego, if he had someone looking at him the way you are right now on a regular basis.

You help him shimmy his jeans and boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free. You take him in your hand, using your thumb to smear the thick bead of pre-cum across the head.

“You should be careful listening to people’s conversations outside of their doors,” you hum as you pump him in one hand. You hunch over, lowering your mouth enough to spit down his shaft, lubricating the length. You smirk, glancing up at him from beneath your thick eyelashes. “Other people might not react as happily as me.”

Fuck, he knows it’s been a long time since he's even felt anyone’s hands on him, but he feels a little pathetic at the way his balls are already tightening and feeling so heavy just from the way you’re languidly stroking him.

And as much as he’d love for you to keep your hands on him, there’s time for him later. Right now, what he wants more than anything is the feeling of your pussy on him.

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach.

“This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

His words seem to erase any remaining reservation that you may have had. You brace your hands on his chest and begin dragging your center across his lower stomach, your slick coating the thick trail of hair that goes from his belly button to his waistline. With every backstroke, the head of his cock juts against your ass.

You glide across him easily. Soft, wet, and warm, Logan thinks that if you feel this good on his fucking stomach then there’s no way he’ll be able to handle being inside you.

He leans his head forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. You hold his head in your hands, tugging on his hair with your fingers as he teases your nipple with his tongue and teeth.

He pulls his mouth away from your breast with a wet pop. “You like this? Using me to get yourself off?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nod frantically, your answer coming out as a moan. He gives a quick, firm slap to your other breast. Judging by the sound it draws from you, you like it, so he does it again.

He'd pictured this exact scenario a shameful number of times in the last few days, but his thoughts hadn’t done you justice. Every little noise you make, every little whimper and moan as your clit brushes against the thick bulges of his muscles again and again, sounds sweeter than he could've dreamed.

He places his hands on the meat of your hips, guiding you forwards and backwards across his abdomen at a fast pace.

“Fuck,” you gasp, clenching your thighs around him as tight as you can. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum—”

“That’s right,” he coos. “Come on, cum on me.”

You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, drenching the hair on his stomach as you ride out your orgasm on him with a cry of his name.

You collapse against his chest, going still with your face in the crook of his neck as you steady your breathing.

“Look at me,” he whispers after a moment. It hits him that despite the fact that you just humped him until you came all over his abdomen, he somehow hasn’t even kissed you yet.

You pull away from his neck, looking down at him with a dazed expression. He brings your face to his mouth by the back of your neck. He wastes no more time, instantly slipping his tongue past your lips.

He holds you by the globes of your ass, which hovers just above his erection. You grind down, causing the tip of his cock to nudge against your entrance. He groans into your mouth, his cock past the point of feeling like it’s going to explode if he doesn’t fucking feel you.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—”

“No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?”

He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole.

“Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

You sink down onto him at the same moment that he tilts his hips up enough to slip inside you, causing the entirety of his length to fill you at once.

You both go still, adjusting to the new sensation of each other. Your walls, velvet soft and so warm, constrict around him like a vice. He knows you’re likely tired from riding him through your first orgasm, so he begins thrusting his hips slowly, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“You’re big. So, so big,” you moan – something between a whine and a praise.

“I know, but you’re doing so good, honey,” he encourages as he eases himself in and out of you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You latch your lips to his again, and it’s hard for him to hold back. The feeling of your tight, perfect cunt around him and the taste of your tongue in his mouth is overwhelming. He wants to memorize every movement, every sound you make.

You snake your hand between your bodies, your fingertips finding your swollen clit and massaging languid circles. He feels you flutter around him as you start meeting his thrusts with movements of your own, and he knows you’re close.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey,” he grunts with a sharp thrust. “Feel too fucking good.”

“Cum with me,” you murmur against his mouth.

Your command causes something in him to snap. He releases a throaty growl, pistoning his hips upwards at a harsh pace as he fills you up from below. You constrict around him, crying his name into his ear as you ride out your climaxes together.

You collapse against his chest once more, his cock still nestled inside you. He loses track of how long the two of you stay like that, neither of you wanting to be the first to move.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath.

You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss.

“I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

thank you so much for reading <3 comments and reblogs are super appreciated. here are a few more of my favorite logan pieces that i've written ✨️

for always and ever is always for you - old man logan x healer reader

diet pepsi - old man logan x reader limousine sex

lavender and velvet - worst variant logan x neighbor reader

[yuwuta]

f2l with katsuki but there’s nobody who rides harder for you two being a couple than izuku and not even in a weird pining threeway kind of way. just genuinely, from the bottom of his heart, he’s always believed you two should be together. he’s always watched you two growing up, he’s always chased after you two, he’s always seen the way you both lean into each other and still find space to pull him up too. he thinks you and katsuki deserve each other, he knows you two are meant for each other. it’s excruciating for izuku to watch you two not realize it for so long, heartbreaking to watch kacchan figure it out but not say anything, and the worst pain of all is watching you date other people because you’re too stubborn to realize your soulmate is has been right next to you your entire life. it’s exhausting, and izuku is bitter about it.

and petty. whenever you mention you have a date, his response is always “is it with kacchan?” “huh? no, it’s—” “that’s too bad then.” he pretends not to remember any of your boyfriends’ names and somewhere along the way he just stops pretending and really doesn’t care to learn them. he’s sweet and all smiles with everyone else, but the second someone other than katsuki is interested in you, there’s a straight frown on his lips. he’s out for drinks with katsuki and he’s noticed some guys eyeing him from across the restaurant, so izuku goes to greet them while katsuki is in the bathroom, all bright smiles and hero facade beaming as he signs the shorter one’s baseball cap with a sigh, “kacchan is handsome, right? you should see his girl, she’s stunning too,” capping the sharpie and any potential plans for flirting for the evening. he’s spent many nights gossiping with mitsuki and inko about you two, crying about how seeing you two dating other people is harder than any other mission he’s ever been sent on.

sometimes izuku just wants to shove the two of you in a locker and keep you in there until you decide to be together. he spends so much time with his chin in his palm, sighing with such yearning for a relationship that isn’t even his own. his eyes are soft right now, watching you and katsuki in the communal kitchen of the agency. there’s a slight glare shining through the glass walls, but he can see your smiles bright as day. you lean with your back to the counter, stirring your tea mindlessly as katsuki faces you, arms crossed but posture relaxed, no doubt saying something to rile you up judging by the slick grin on his face. you’re much shorter than him, but izuku remembers the days when you were taller than both of them back in second grade; he thinks the height difference panned out nicely. kacchan could lean down and kiss you right now, izuku wishes he would. a soft smile paints izuku’s face—they only keep that tea in the cabinets for the days you decide to visit, and katsuki only teases to hear your sharp tongue counter him. he must be in a particularly good mood today—or maybe, he’s happy because you’ve visited—judging by the way he throws his head back with a hearty cackle after you’ve said something to him. that’s good, hopefully you’ll keep his spirits up when they leave for patrol later. izuku gets so caught up in his daydreaming that he’s startled when there’s a knocking on the glass, and now you’re next to it smiling at his startled face and waving to him. he looks at you, then back to katsuki, who’s shadowed you to the glass wall, hovering protectively like he always has. izuku shakes his head in disbelief, but waves back. he finds the glass fitting, a window he’s looking into. he just hopes the scene changes to something more romantic sooner rather than later.

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

Didn't expect me to write more about Sol, did you? Honestly, I needed to do more research into his character, after all, since I kinda ignored him in the game as soon as Crowe showed up. Like, no wonder he did what he thought he had to do.  

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

I mixed a bit of canon and my headcanons for Crowe and Sol in this one—yep, once again! This time, I kept it focused on just four kinks to keep it short and sweet. I'm still learning about the BDSM community, and honestly, it's been really eye-opening.

A close friend (college roommate: adding on the fact she adores Sol—Sorry not sorry, love) of mine has been super helpful, sharing and explaining things about the BDSM scene to add more depth to my writing.

A lot of my inspiration comes from her, along with the Tumblr fanfic community and the original creator's work. I try to blend what feels true to the characters while throwing in my own twist. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Starting, I’ve noticed that TKATB fans have their unique preferences when it comes to Sol or Crowe.

For example, fans who gravitate toward Sol tend to enjoy the idea of him being dominant—whether it’s being in control of him or just envisioning him taking charge. It’s that mix of power and intensity that gets people excited. You know who you are, you freaks!

On the other hand, fans of Crowe are drawn to his reliability, his deep understanding, and his caring nature. He’s willing to guide you through anything, offering both emotional support and strength. It’s comforting, isn’t it? And yes, I’m a freak too—I get it.

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

Naturally, I had to start with my man—Jericho, or Crowe, as he's known. He exudes a mysterious, almost savior-like presence, though the details are still unclear. I WANNA KNOW SO BAD.

His style is effortlessly sharp, and his quiet confidence makes him instantly trustworthy. Reliable, steady, and composed, Crowe is the perfect support when life feels overwhelming. His charm is subtle, blending good looks with an alluring personality—irresistible, without ever being flashy. 

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Crowe as kinky?

At first glance, no. Not. To a stranger, he’s too put together, with not even the faintest hint of anything unconventional beneath the surface. But as you get to know him, that answer begins to shift. Slowly, subtly, he reveals a side of himself that hints at complexity—an edge just beneath his polished exterior. However, don’t expect anything extreme or overtly wild.

What he does reveal is never too much but always just enough to leave you captivated—and maybe, just maybe, a little curious.

✑ Vanilla (Soft Dom…) 

For Crowe preferences! 

He's the ultimate soft, warm partner. Like, you just know he's all about the quiet, comforting vibes. No crazy power dynamics or rough kinks—he's all about that steady, affectionate love. It's Vanilla, but in the best way possible, full of layers. He’s not rushing anything, just enjoying the little things, taking his time, and making sure you feel heard and cherished. 

When you're with him, it's all slow and gentle—he’s not here for intense extremes. His love is patient, thoughtful, and wrapped in warmth. Every touch, every word, is like a soft caress, just so deliberate and tender. 

And honestly? There's no need for anything crazy. Crowe's happy to explore your connection, build that trust, and just savor the passion that grows naturally between you two. It's the kind of love that builds and lingers long after. 

Now… Crowe might be a soft dom—nah he IS A SOFT DOM.

Crowe’s not the type to push you past your limits just for the thrill of it. He’s not into playing mind games or testing how far he can take things. No, Crowe’s power is the quiet kind, the kind that makes you feel safe without even having to try. He knows the real strength is in taking care of someone, not in forcing them into anything they’re not ready for.  

When you’re with him, it’s like he’s always tuned into you, always listening, always aware of exactly what you need. He’s the guy who doesn’t take, but gives—gives you everything he can, with a level of care that’s almost overwhelming. And even though he’s gentle, don’t get it twisted—he’s still a tease. He’s the kind of man who’ll leave marks on your skin, a subtle reminder that you're his. But it's all in the way he leads, in that steady hand that takes yours, guiding you through every little moment.  

There’s nothing loud about Crowe—other than his moans and whining. I SWEAR he has pretty moans.

He doesn’t demand anything and doesn’t rush you, but he has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. When he touches you, it’s with a confidence that leaves you breathless but also comforted. He’ll press his forehead against yours, his hand guiding yours down to your stomach, just so you can feel his bulge inside you,how much he wants you, how much he’s thinking about you at that moment. 

There’s no need for words—just that connection, that intense eye contact that says everything.  

But yeah, he’ll also let you think you have the upper hand for a minute. Let you believe you’ve got him cornered, like you're finally taking control… only for him to flip the switch, regaining control without you even realizing.  

With Crowe, it’s not about begging or pleading for pleasure—it’s about your happiness, your satisfaction. His version of dominance is the kind that wraps around you like a warm blanket, soft and cozy. He just wants to see you smile, hear you laugh—moan, and whine under him, and know that every moment spent with him is full of happiness.  

So, if you're into a soft dom who values deep emotional connection, tenderness, and affection, Crowe’s your man! He just wants you to trust him, to let go and let him care for you. Let him be there for you in every single way, in every moment. 

And in that, he gives you all the security you’ll ever need.

✑ Praise (giving + receiving)

Crowe is all about Praise, and affection through words. Imagine him pulling you close, whispering in your ear while his fingers gently trace patterns along your skin. 

“You’re such a good girl for me, look at how well you take me, love. That’s my girl, always so ready for me, aren’t you?” His words make you feel safe, wanted, and cherished.

He doesn’t wait for you to ask for reassurance—he gives it freely, letting you know how much he appreciates having you around, and how much he loves seeing you smile. And when it comes to your body? He knows every inch of it like he’s got a personal map of your every curve and spot. He might even joke, “No one will ever know you like I do. I’ve ruined you for everyone else, haven’t I?”

Crowe has this vibe about him, like he’s always hungry to make sure you're feeling amazing, but don’t forget to show him some love, too. He thrives on hearing you praise him, especially when you whisper how much you need him, and how much he’s doing for you. The sound of your voice, the words you say—they get to him, melt him down until his heart's pounding.

Now and then, he’ll pull back, checking in on you, “You okay? Am I pushing you too far?” It’s not just about the rush for him. He wants you to be comfortable, to be in sync with him as he takes you through everything, slow and steady, giving you all that love. “That’s it, you're doing so well,” he’ll say, his voice smooth like syrup, making sure you know you're adored.

But here’s the thing: if you keep praising him, or if you’re the one in control, just wait. Crowe’s mouth? It’ll get filthy. AND I MEAN FILTHY. He can’t help it, don't be mean now...

I mean, you can. You giving him head? Taking his cock deep inside your throat, feeling he's about to cum, then you pulled back, teasing him. He'll say, "Please, my love, you were doing so good on my cock—please, please, keep going, I need that tongue of yours."

One of his favorite things is when you’re so into it that he can just forget what you say and speak directly to you, but in a way that’ll make your body react before your mind even catches up. Like, he’ll whisper, “God, you taste so damn good. Missed me, huh? Just wanna be filled up, don't you?”

His words drip against you, his eyes dark with heat, like he's speaking to your body, not even acknowledging your moans. “Such a good fucking pussy. Always making me feel so damn good. Want me to stuff you full, hm?”

And when it’s all done? Crowe doesn’t just drop it and move on. He’s got aftercare down to an art. He’ll guide you through it, keep you close, making sure you’re okay, settled, and cared for, getting ready to do it all again whenever you’re ready!

✑ Experimentalist

Crowe is the kind of man who never wants to leave any stone unturned, especially when it comes to experiences.

There was something about him that screamed experimentalist—like he needed to try everything, no matter how wild or unconventional. When it came to relationships, he was always up for anything, which meant he'd probably had more relationship experiences than most people you knew. 

His mind is open, impossibly so, and he had an insatiable curiosity that could never be satisfied. He’d never form an opinion on something without diving in and getting his first-hand taste. If there was something new to try, something out-of-the-box—Crowe was there, ready to explore. 

And honestly? He didn’t even need you to ask twice. If you suggested something wild, he’d be all in—his enthusiasm infectious, his curiosity never-ending.

However, he's pretty vanilla when it comes to experimenting, so don't expect him to go TOO hardcore. If there's a kink suited to his taste and he masters it? Oh, Babe, you'll feel it—so much in fact.

Take ropes, for example. Blindfolds? Handcuffs? Oh, he is intrigued. But, again, don’t expect anything brutal. He isn't the type to be into floggers or paddles; no, pain isn't needed for his skills. It is his anticipation. The slow burn of him carefully tying you up, not in a rush, but with the kind of patience that made every moment last longer. 

When his hands hovered over your skin, it wasn’t just touch—it was electric. He’d make sure to linger, let his fingers graze over every inch, just enough to make you shiver, your breath hitching in the air between you. It wasn’t about hurting you, not at all. No, it was all about the build-up—the moment when the ropes or restraints were placed just so, tightening the tension between you both until it was practically unbearable. 

And then? When you finally let go, it was a release so sweet and steady that it left you breathless. No rushing, no quick fixes—just a slow, fulfilling pleasure.

Adding on, Crowe loved the idea of restraint. Whether for fun, for art, or for that extra little spark of excitement, there was something about having you completely at his mercy. 

And if you ever flipped the script? If he was the one getting tied up? Like I said, Crowe will be just as filthy when he lets his guard down. 

✑ Dacryphillia

Okay, hear me out. I know what you’re thinking—"Crowe? He would never hurt me. Why would he want to see me cry?" And I get it, really. This is one of those wild ideas but just stick with me for a second.

You know how he’s all about emotions and deep connections, right? Get it?

He gets this deep fascination with what you feel and show, especially when it’s raw. Here’s where it gets interesting: Dacryphilia. Yeah, I’m talking about that thing where someone gets... well, aroused by tears, by the sound of you sobbing, the whole mess of emotions. 

So, let’s imagine this: You’re begging him, pleading for more. Your face is a mess of emotions, eyes watery, tears rolling down your cheeks. And yeah, he’s gonna ask if you’re okay because that’s the kind of man he is—always checking, always making sure. But if you keep begging for more? Oh, that’s when it gets dangerous. 

Each desperate plea of yours, each tremor in your voice, just fuels this fire inside him, an all-consuming fire. His eyes? They’re practically glowing, deep blue, and locked on you like he's drowning in you, in every little thing you’re feeling.

You can feel him there, so close you can almost taste his breath on your skin. His lips brush against your ear, a soft, teasing whisper sending shivers down your spine. "So desperate for me already, huh? We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet..." His voice is low, and dangerous, like he’s savoring every second of this.

You know he’s enjoying this. Every inch of him is hooked, and once he has you like this, there’s no going back.

Crowe’s could be teasing you for what feels like hours, driving you wild with a mix of pleasure and frustration. He’s pulled every bit of sensation from you, your body trembling with each orgasm, each touch—until you’re left aching for more. You’ve come undone on his fingers, his tongue, but now, you’re desperate in a way that makes your chest ache. You need him, inside of you, filling you up, but he’s holding back. Just barely, he brushes against you, grinning at the whine that slips from your lips.

His head teases your entrance, and you can’t stop yourself from begging, voice shaky, "Please... Please, please." You repeated. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as they fall helplessly. The emptiness without him feels unbearable.

Crowe tilted his head, the smirk on his face practically dripping with playful mockery. “Just please?” He dragged the word out slowly, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Tell me what you want. Can’t do anything unless you say it. What is it you’re begging for?” His hand slid up your stomach, hand pushing lightly as if testing the waters. 

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, the playful glint in his eyes shifting into something darker, more calculating. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

His grin stretched wider as you stumbled over your words, desperate and disordered, pleading for more. He could tell you were unraveling, and it only pushed him further, each whimper was like a small victory. 

“You’re falling apart, love,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need... just say the word.” You could barely focus as the desperation built into your chest. His control over you was unnerving, yet exhilarating. The tears on your cheeks were a mix of frustration and need, a silent scream for him. 

“I need you, Crowe. Please...” Your voice was broken, but he was the one who was in control, studying the way you reacted like a willing experiment.

Crowe’s hand lifts gently to your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears streaming down your face. He gives you a soft grin, his voice low and teasing. “Already crying for me, huh?” he murmurs, almost amused. His thumb, slick with your tears, slips past your lips, letting you taste the salty remnants of your emotions. "We’ve just started," he adds, a soft chuckle escaping him. 

Before you can respond, his hips jerk forward, pushing into you with one swift, forceful motion. The shock of it makes your breath catch, and Crowe can’t help but smirk, his eyes glinting with that dangerous, experimental gleam.

Every move, calculated and deliberate, is part of his twisted exploration. And you? You’re the willing subject.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

Sol is described as a “stinky basement-dwelling yandere”—ngl, this alone made me laugh. He’s a quiet kid, the one who lingered at the edges of every room, observing, never quite fitting in.

Beneath his reserved exterior was a complexity most couldn’t fathom. He’s incredibly smart, with a sharpness that slipped through his words when he spoke, though he rarely bothered to. His talents leaned toward the arts, paintings, and writings.

And yet, at the end of the day, Sol isn’t exactly smooth. He was hopelessly inexperienced when it came to relationships. He gets no bitches, and honestly, he probably doesn’t even try. But in his inexperience is a certain rawness, and once you did get to know him, he’ll flirt or charm you. But before, he just watched and wanted.  

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Sol as kinky?

Yes, let’s not sugarcoat it—he is kinky asf. Of course, he is. There was no way someone as quiet and repressed as Sol didn’t have a horny side, one he tried to keep buried but couldn’t fully hide due to his love for you. 

✑ Switch (A Pervert…)

Now, about Sol’s... preferences. 

From reading his relationship information card and playing the game. He is a paradox, a Switch in every sense of the word. He didn’t neatly fit into the mold of “always dominant” or “forever submissive.” Oh no, that would be far too mundane for someone like him. He's not a standard yandere people.

Sol is a man of extremes, a “pervert” in the most endearing, shameless sense of the word. He believed in living freely, without the shackles of societal expectations or traditional constraints. Ethics, morality, conventional roles—he’d toss them aside without hesitation if they stood in the way of his desires.   

When he takes the reins as Dominant, Sol is the type to lean into theatrics, pushing boundaries with a devilish grin and that mischievous gleam in his eyes. He had a talent for making the experience unforgettable, for making you feel as though the entire world had melted away, leaving only the two of you. But when the tables turned, when Sol found himself in the more submissive role, he’d throw himself into it with equal fervor. 

He’d challenge you to prove your worth, tease and push until you stepped up to the plate, and then—when you finally did—he’d surrender so completely that it'll feel like a victory worth savoring.  

To Sol, sex and relationships weren’t just about power dynamics or tradition. They were a playground for exploration, a place where the only rule was to follow what felt right. With his “anything goes” mentality, Sol turned every interaction into a kaleidoscope of passion and unpredictability. 

As mentioned, Sol, can’t help himself when it comes to you.

Let’s say he has this thing—Voyeuristic Disorder, to be precise, a fancy word for being a pervert. Dosn't care to see anyone else naked. Only you he wishes to see. He was obsessed with watching you, whether you knew it or not. In public or private, it didn’t matter.

He just liked being there, lurking in the shadows, soaking in every moment. Watching you do the most intimate things, completely unaware that he was there. 

There was something so exhilarating about seeing you—your bare skin, the way you moved, the little things you did when you thought no one was watching. He couldn’t resist. The way your body reacted, the sounds you made when you didn’t know he was there—it was all he needed. 

Deadass, I’m shocked that the creator of the game never added a specific scene where you were taking care of yourself in bed—you freak, oblivious to him sneaking a peek from the window, his hand on his cock, jacking himself off, doing exactly what he does best. Watching. 

He didn’t let societal norms dictate how he expressed himself or who he loved. He was unapologetically himself—messy, chaotic, and a little too intense for most people’s taste. But for those brave enough to step into his world, you, well, if you picked him, that is.

Sol will offer an experience unlike any other: one filled with unrelenting honesty, unbridled passion, and a love that refuses to be anything less than extraordinary.  

✑ Praise (Receiving)

Sol isn't the type of man you’d peg as desperate for validation—at least, not at first glance. His sharp, confident exterior gave the impression of someone who had the world at his feet, who didn’t flinch under pressure or crack beneath judgmental stares. 

But peel back the layers of this supposed nonchalant and cool type of man, and you’d find a truth that was much more human, much more raw. Sol craved praise. Why? Perhaps it was the lack of it throughout his life. His track record for romance was, let’s say, less than impressive. Not because he lacked charm or good looks—he had both in spades—but because his overbearing aura and unapologetic eccentricities tended to drive most people away. 

They didn’t understand him, couldn’t see past the way he challenged conventions. He wore his "loser" title like armor. After all, who cared if he didn’t have admirers lined up at his door? He didn’t need anyone... right? Yet, when someone, such as you, did manage to offer him an honest compliment, something sincere, it was like watching a dam break. 

His confident smirk would falter for a second, his eyes softening, betraying the vulnerability he worked so hard to conceal. Sol wasn’t accustomed to receiving love—real, genuine love—and when it came, it hit him like a truck

✑ Masochist

The first time you noticed Sol’s tendency to endure pain, you’d thought it was just his stubborn nature. He’s always been the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve when it came to you—raw, unfiltered, and unapologetically vulnerable. But as time went on, you began to see something deeper beneath that tough, rebellious exterior. 

Sol wasn’t just someone who endured pain; he seemed to embrace it…? almost thrive on it, especially when it comes to you.

Sol is, without a doubt, a masochist. Not in the twisted, sadistic sense, but in an almost heartbreaking way. He’d do anything to please you, to earn your attention—even if it meant enduring the unendurable. 

He could never be a sadist. No, he loved you too much to ever inflict pain on you, physically or emotionally. The very thought of hurting you would make his stomach churn. Instead, he channeled all his devotion into being by your side, no matter the cost.

There were moments when his tendencies became painfully obvious. Like he gets into fights back to back, defending himself or you—for example, the movie theater bathroom or the Campus library (With or without.)

You hadn’t/have even been there to witness it—Sol hadn’t wanted you to see him like that, bruised and bloody. But when you found out later, he brushed it off with that crooked grin of his, the one that hid just how far he’d go for you. “It’s nothing,” he’d said, wiping the blood from his lip. “They deserved it for talking about you like that.”

Or that time with Crowe. It had been an innocent moment, just you laughing at something Crowe said, but to Sol, it might as well have been a dagger to his chest. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, nails digging into his palms until they drew blood. He didn’t want to feel that way—jealousy mixed with self-loathing—but he couldn’t help it. Watching you walk away with someone else, even for a moment, was unbearable. 

It wasn’t that he enjoyed the pain; it was just that he could handle it, even when it tore him apart inside.  

And in the quiet, intimate moments, Sol’s masochistic streak became something else entirely. If you picked him willingly, He’ll trust you, and loved you, enough to let down every last defense he had. He didn’t just endure pain; with you, he could find meaning in it. 

A sharp bite, nails dragging down his back—he shivered under your touch, his body responding in ways he didn’t fully understand but didn’t question. For him, it wasn’t just about the sensation; it was about the connection, the way it brought him closer to you.  

Masochism, for Sol, wasn’t about pain tolerance. It wasn’t about how much he could take. It was about the way he found a strange, twisted kind of comfort in it. The pain wasn’t the point; it was the context, the giver—you. Sol would never seek out pain for its own sake, but if it was for you, if it meant being close to you, he’d endure anything.  

Even in the game, he seemed to attract hardship like a magnet, always the one taking the hits—physically and emotionally. Whether it was the bullies who thought he was an easy target or the way he seemed to hurt himself just to prove his devotion to you, Sol carried it all with a quiet, unshakable resolve. Because, at the end of the day, it wasn’t about the pain. It was about you.  

And he’d never stop. For Sol, loving you wasn’t just a choice—it was a part of who he was. If being close to you meant enduring the worst the world could throw at him, he’d take it all with a smile. Because that’s who Sol is. A damn masochist.  

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.  

✑ Somnophillia 

It was inevitable, wasn’t it? Everyone could see this coming from a mile away—there was simply no other possibility. Sol, in all his twisted complexity, had long blurred the line between obsession and affection, his love taking on forms most would never dare to comprehend. 

Some might accuse him of holding darker urges, like necrophilia, drawn to the lifelessness of the dead. But no, that isn’t Sol. Despite his obsessions, there was a deep-rooted sentimentality within him—a refusal to let go, to lose. If anything, he had made it clear in his own hauntingly poetic way: he’d rather die with you than live without you. 

Yet, that didn’t mean his desires were any less unnerving. No, Sol’s particular brand of affection manifested in somnophilia, a fascination with the vulnerability of sleep, the beauty of your unconscious form. To him, those moments were sacred—your body relaxed, your mind adrift in dreams. It was when he felt closest to you, unguarded and free from the chaos of the waking world.  

Before your relationship, it started innocuously enough—or so it seemed. He’d find ways to end up at your apartment, invited by some pretense or perhaps even through sheer charisma. And then, ever so subtly, he’d lace your drink with something to make you drowsy, to keep you from suspecting as his fingers ghosted on you. 

You lay there, utterly still, utterly serene, your chest rising and falling with the kind of peaceful rhythm that seemed to still the chaos of the world around you.  

It was maddening, the way you looked so untouched by the noise that haunted him, your lips slightly parted, the barest whisper of breath escaping them. Every exhale was a siren call, soft and unassuming, but it gripped him like a vice.  

His gaze wandered, helplessly drawn down the curve of your cheek to your lips. They looked soft, and inviting in a way that felt almost cruel. He wanted to press his own to them, to taste whatever peace you’d found and see if he could borrow just a fraction of it for himself.  

But it wasn’t just your lips. His eyes traced lower, following the lines of your body, the way your clothes clung to you, hinting at the form beneath. He shouldn’t be thinking like this—he knew he shouldn’t. And yet the thought of you, warm and pliant beneath him, invaded his mind, unrelenting.  

He swallowed hard, trying to shake it off, but the more he fought, the more vivid the thoughts became. The sound of your soft sighs, the way you’d move under his touch, how you’d look at him—not like this, not sleepily and unaware, but awake, wanting.  

God, he was losing it.  

Sol leaned back, running a hand through his hair, forcing his gaze away from you for a moment. But it didn’t matter—your image was burned into his mind, and there was no escape. Watching you sleep was his guilty pleasure, though his guilt barely lasted long enough to stop him from pressing further. 

Once the two of you were together, the dynamics shifted, but only slightly. Sol’s obsession deepened, and the lines of consent became more of a gray haze in his mind. To him, love was devotion—complete and all-encompassing. And if you loved him, shouldn’t you accept him entirely? Shouldn’t you trust him to care for you, even when you weren’t awake to see it? 

He was careful, always so careful with you, so don’t worry! 

His lips found their way to the sensitive curve of your inner thigh, his movements slow and deliberate as if savoring every second of this quiet moment. You stirred faintly, a sleepy whimper escaping your lips as the warmth of his mouth brushed against you, teasing and tender.

Sol’s hands gripped your hips gently but firmly; his fingers splayed across your skin to hold you in place. You tried to shift, your body instinctively responding to the soft, wet pressure of his tongue on your needy cunt, but his strength was unyielding.

“Shh,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper in the stillness. One hand slid up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb lingering for a moment as he marveled at the serene expression you wore, so unaware of the devotion he poured into every touch. “You’re even more beautiful like this,” he breathed, his words an intimate confession meant only for the dark.

To Sol, this meant everything. 

This was the essence of love itself—intimacy beyond words, a bond that transcended anything others could hope to understand. He wasn't like anyone else; he knew that, and perhaps that’s what made this feel so special. So sacred. There was a quiet possessiveness in the way he worshiped you, a deep yearning to etch himself into every corner of your being, to ensure no one else could ever touch the part of you that belonged to him.

And as you stirred again, a soft moan escaping your lips, Sol smirked against your skin, the faintest edge of smug satisfaction curling at the corner of his mouth. You might not fully wake, but you’d feel him—his touch, his adoration, eventually his cock. You’d know, even in sleep, that you were his world.

To be with him, you’d have to accept all of him. Every tender smile, every soft whisper... and every shadowed obsession that came with it. 

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

[shysuccubusstuff]

husband! Zayne:

Content: SFW + NSFW hc, non proof-reading; established relationship + husband! zayne + consensual + praise kink; soft! dom into mean! dom Zayne (then back to soft! dom) : brat taming + degradation kink + praise kink + overstimulation + aftercare.

Note: So, I entered the game today and Zayne blew up my phone, one of the texts was about kaomojis and he said something about it being childish, even if he did it afterwards... I NEED TO MAKE HIM A DADDDD so freaking bad!! I'm pretty sure I already did something like this, but I just can't help it when I see such husband material... BTW Tomorrow is my birthday!! Time goes so fast :00 I hope everyone is able to rest during the holidays!!

♡ thinking about husband! zayne...

Hubby! Zayne. who proposed during one of your many outings, the sun was setting and you were sharing those old fashion snacks, laughing about how he had gotten the smaller side of the ice cream. You were still making fun of him when he suddenly got on one knee, his face completely red as he tried his best to get his severely prepared and rehearsed speech ready.

Hubby! Zayne, who makes sure to celebrate each single month , all the people in the hospital are completely aware of when that time comes, as they are able to see Zayne's uncontrolable smile during the whole week before the date. He makes sure to buy a beautiful bouquet for you, only using your favourite flowers and colours, that's the least he would do for you though. When your aniversary comes, better get ready for Zayne's constant pampering, always reserving some special place where the two of you can go together and spend some time alone, just him and you.

Hubby! Zayne, who makes sure to pay close attention to every single word you say, always answering to your rantings: "Oh, really? How could she do that to his long time fwb? Keep telling me, love."

Hubby! Zayne who prepares dinner the days that he gets home sooner than you, the table set and ready by the time you arrive home, sometimes even lighting up a few candles to give it a more romantic ambience.

Hubby! Zayne who sometimes appear without warning, he is resting his back against his car. As soon as he sees you getting out of your work, he quickly gets up, his right hand holding a plasting bag. "Just remembered you wante to go to that new restaurant, since I had time, I went and bought some take-out, do you want to go home and eat it?"

Hubby! Zayne who gets flusthered as soon as you start to think about having kids with him. He had been thinking about it for a long time, trying his best not to say it in case you felt unsure about it.

Hubby! Zayne who goes crazy just from the thought of filling your precious cunt with his essence, forcing himself not to get carried away as he keeps hitting the tip of his cock against your cervix, your insides clamping against his length making his mind foggy. What if he simply shoved you into the bed as he took away that damn condom, filling you to the brim as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

Hubby! Zayne who loves cuddling with you every single night, his sligthly cooler body quickly warming him up, maybe a bit too much, as you suddenly start to feel something poking you from behind.

Hubby! Zayne, who tries to act as if nothing is happening, slowly moving away as soon as he believes you are asleep, his hand tracing down his own body as he tries to reduce his erection as fast as possible just so he can keep embracing your body... Or so he thought.

"Zayne?" Zayne stops himself, quickly hiding it under his pants.

"...Yes, love?" You turn around, soon noticing how he had gotten away from you.

"Sure you don't need some help down there?" Zayne's face flushes, his eyes widening as he looked at you.

"...You noticed?"

"I mean, it's not exactly easy to ignore something stiff poking against my ass while trying to fall asleep, you know?" Zayne stopped your words, his hand covering your mouth as he tried to stop you from saying more embarrasing things.

"I, I just didn't want to bother you, I know you work so hard everyday so you must rest, this can wait until we have more time, there's no need to--" Zayne's words were stopped as you got on top of him with your hands massaging his chest while you started a deep kiss. "Love... we shouldn't, we have to wake up early tomorrow." Once again, you ignored poor Zayne's words, your hands quickly getting rid of his shirt, throwing it to the ground, your lips starting to make a small trail of kisses all over his neck to his chest. "You're always so..." Zayne's words were cut off, a deep breath leaving his lips before he was able to end his sentence. "...naughty." You smiled, almost a bit too happy to see him struggling under you, sadly, this soon reached its end, with Zayne swiftly changing positions, having you under his bigger frame. "Not so fun now, am I right, love? It seems I have been pampering a bit too much, now you even think that you can do whatever you want and have no consequences since I love you so much... But even brats like you should know when to behave." Zayne started to kiss you, his soft lips leaving small kisses all over you as his hands started to run under your clothes, his cold touch making your whole body shiver. "Not so funny now, uh?" With your whole body now completely exposed to Zayne it was almost impossible to stop him from finding your sweet spots. Zayne started to massage your breasts, his fingertips playing with your nipples while he sometimes gave them small licks. "Oh, they are perking up, seems I am not the only one who is weak to... someone's touch."

"You're talking too much, just-- Fuck..." Once again, Zayne's touch stopped you mid-sentence, his hands suddenly lifting your lower half and putting your legs over his shoulders, Zayne now kissing and leaving small licks all over that place, still not going for it, just teasing it. "Zayne, just, uh... please."

"Please what, love? I can't read your mind, I need you to say it to me." You clenched your fists as Zayne kept teasing you by kissing your inner thighs.

"...Please. Just... just make me feel good, I need you." That was everything Zayne needed, his mouth already moving towards your cunt, his lips kissing it and giving it a few licks before he actually started to play with your poor clit, his tongue making your whole body quiver as he started to use one of his fingers to play with your clit as he used his tongue to slowly enter you. After a few minutes, he finally introduced one of his digits, entering another as he considered you were finally ready for it. "Zayne... I need you now-- Give it to me."

"Don't rush, my love. We have all the night left." With that set in mind, Zayne ignored your pleas, having you lay with your legs wide open as he kept teasing you, stopping just before you were finally able to cum, making your mind start to feel fuzzy as he kept playing with your clit, his fingers still prepping your poor cunt.

By the time Zayne finally let your legs go, your whole body was trembling, your eyes tearing up as the overstimulation had gotten far too much, your hands fisting the sheets as you tried to avoid being heard by your neighbours. "Zayne, Zayne, please!... Just, can't think, I need you." Zayne chuckled at your pouty face, kissing your lips before he lifted you from the bed, sitting on the bed and finally letting his cock make his way inside your overwhelmed cunt, bottoming out with a deep groan.

"...You feel so nice, love." You rested your hands on his chest, trying your best to use your legs to try and lift your lower half, barely being able to take out a bit of his lenght. "Wait dear, let me help my sweet girl." As soon as he said that, Zayne's hands were already on your hips, carefully lifting you up before entering your cunt once more, kissing you as he tried to avoid your slutty moans to be heard by someone that wasn't him. Annoyed by his teasing, you tried to get Zayne to move faster, trying your best to release his grip on you, suddenly forcing you to slam yourself against him, a high-pitched whimper resonating in the bedroom you both shared. " It seems I haven't been able to put you in your place still, I suppose you really want to be treated like a brat, get fucked against the mattress while you cream all over my dick, so be it. It was foolish of me to think you would want to get pregnant while making love, you just love getting your brains fucked out by me, right?" Zayne quickly pushed you again, forcing you to face the bed as he started to slam his hips against your ass, the lewd sound reverberating in the room while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. "Speak, you always love running your mouth, why not answer me now?" Your nails digged on the sheets, Zayne pulling you by your hair without much force, just letting you breath so you could answer him.

" Sowwy--- I'm sorry! Sorry for being a brat, I love you, I love you Zayne... I love getting my brain scattered by your cock! Pleasee~... Just cum inside, don't pull out, please please Zayne!" Zayne once again teased you, turning you around just to see the face he loved so much, ashamed, you hid your face with your hands, trying your best to keep quiet as Zayne kept punishing you with his thrusts, your cunt gushing out each time he hit that special spot inside of you.

"That's my good girl, keep taking me so good, dear. You're doing such a good job, let me get you all nice and round, you will make such a good mommy... Keep cumming for me love, no need to think about anything else." So you did, your cunt pulsating as your mind was finally able to begin to clear up, Zayne's hands caressing your soft face while he kissed your wet cheeks. "You did so well, love. Promise I will pamper you the whole week, how about having breakfast in bed? We can then have dinner together in that new restaurant you keep seeing, yeah? Let me take care of everything." Nodding, you dooze off, Zayne's words resonating in your ears while he kept kissing your face.

[tinylilacbun]

OMG HIHIHI now I can pciture like, a dark!jj starting to feel his obsession be born in the very moment he lay his eyes on her from affar. And he watches her all the time, to how long she takes to take sip after sip of her drink until random things like who she talks to people around her and walks. And it scares even himself (at least at the begining), this new.. dark and delicious feeling he can't name it, he just knows it increases every time he sees her. Maybe it's the contrast of their nature, it's what he tries to tell himself. Maybe it's how his is so full of anger and complications and hers is so... pure. Full of light. All he knows is that the feeling inside him is growing and turning into a sentence in the back of his head that gets louder and louder: he needs her. He has to have her. One way or another.

Geez sorry the delulu in me got the hots and just went with the flow I guess

THATS EXACTLY WHAT I THOUGHT!!

He doesn't know why he's so intrigued with you, why he's interested in a kook of all people, but you're different, not all bitchy and spoiled or thinking you're something better than the pogues.

You're sweet, almost too pure, and he just can't help himself but keep his eyes on you the second he catches a glimpse of you at a keg party on the beach.

He studies how you don't really drink from your cup, only taking small sips as if you're scared to get caught, clenching his jaw when he sees Rafe draping an arm over your shoulder as you giggle at something he said.

That psychotic drug addict should be the last person you stand close to, but it's not surprising, you're a sight for sore eyes but JJ knows that the kook prince only looks for a little fun, not for the interesting person you actually are.

JJ thought it was just the alcohol that night that made him so obsessive over someone who he never really talked to, but somehow he finds himself coincidentally seeing you around Kildare more often...

It gets so bad that he even starts to sneak onto your family's property, hiding behind some bushes as he gets a clear view of your room from your open window, watching you get ready for bed.

You turn off the light of your vanity mirror, getting up and stifling a yawn as you walk towards your bed, carefully slipping under the soft covers and making sure that none of your plushies fall on the ground.

JJ is about to leave when you suddenly reach under your pillow and pull out a small Lovie, but what really gets his attention is when you push the attached pacifier past your lips, getting more comfortable on your bed.

Now that's even more interesting.

A few more weeks of watching you and doing his own research on his phone he thinks that he knows what this is that you're doing, that state you seem to revert to for whatever reason he hasn't figured out yet.

Normally he would just ask Pope, but he doesn't want any of his friends knowing or thinking about him being some creep that's been watching you for about a month now.

His obsession only grows the more he finds out about you, not being able to control himself anymore as he quietly climbs in through your window one night, that small voice in his head being more prominent every time he sees you and getting the better of him.

He feels completely out of place, the clean and neatly organized room mocking his appearance, but it's oddly calming with the fairy lights that adorn the headboard on your bed and the faint scent of the lavender candle that's lit up on your nightstand.

Finally his gaze lands on your sleeping figure, all snuggled in your sheets and a bunny plushie tucked under your chin as the pacifier slowly bobs in your mouth.

He knows this is sick, that he shouldn't even be here, but a part of him doesn't even care, only thinking about satisfying his need to be close to you to make that voice finally shut up for a while.

Standing beside your bed he tilts his head to the side, almost cooing at how adorable you look and completely unaware of him right next to your bed, cautiously reaching out to caress your cheek.

"I'll take care of you soon...just gotta prepare everything." He whispers more to himself. "I just need some more time but don't worry, I'll keep an eye on you until then."

You will be his, no matter what it takes, you'll understand one day and thank him for saving you.

But who's saving you from him?

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16 @sweetstars-posts @rafecameronsloverrrrr @rafenroostersgirl

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[ladykailitha]

Hoe! Hoe! Hoe! Naughty Night!

Hello and welcome to my Christmas AUvent Calendar! Every day from now until the 24th I will be posting a ficlet that is 500-1500 from an AU I've done over the years.

All stories will be marked with the tag #12 aus of christmas so you can follow along as I will only be tagging my permanent list for this (it would get too confusing otherwise).

The next one on our list is: Stripper verse. You can read the story here. All links will be to the first chapter, but the chapter itself will have links to the rest of the story.

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8

~

Eddie was positively gleeful. Ever since Steve joined the Hellfire Exotic Club, his whole life had changed. In addition to having Steve as the best boyfriend he’s ever had, he got three new dancers who were amazing, he got to design the club the way he always wanted it, and then there were the themed nights.

It all started with Fairy Tail night which was a rousing (eyebrow wagging) success. So Chrissy and he got down and started planning out other themed nights. Halloween Killer Night was a personal favorite.

Which brought him to tonight.

Hoe! Hoe! Hoe! Naughty or Nice Night. It was going to be a blast. The premise was someone accidentally writing to Satan their very naughty gift wish list and Satan deciding to Nightmare Before Christmas it up.

Brian was going to be their Santa Claus turned Greed when Satan temps him with all the finer things that Santa misses out on all year making presents for children. Scott was going to play the naughty list maker and he was going to dance with all the Deadly Sins as they check off things off his list.

It was going to be so hot.

Steve’s biggest worry was whether or not people were going to be happy to see Eddie’s Lucifer take a backseat this time as you really can’t accidentally write to Lucifer the way you could with Satan.

But Eddie had no doubts that since it was only for the one show very few people were going to have a problem with Steve taking center stage. After all that’s what he did every Sunday anyway.

“All right, you win!” Steve said after Eddie’s very impassioned speech about it. “I’ll go seduce the entire Deadly Sins. If that’s what you want.”

Eddie pounced on him and kissed him dirty. Once he was sure Steve was thoroughly wrecked, he got off and grinned. “You can slut around on stage all you want, Stevie, but I’m the only one who can do that.”

Steve propped himself on his elbows. “Yeah, yeah. Now get back up here and finish me off, you menace!”

Eddie cackled and dove right back in to do just that.

~

They were on their last dance and Eddie was absolutely covered in sweet. All his dancers were. They had worked hard tonight and had earned every bit of their Christmas bonuses just tonight, never mind the rest of the year.

Steve straddled Brian’s lap and gave the once Santa a lap dance, bumping and grinding against him. Brian’s hands were all over Steve’s oiled up form. And just as Santa grabbed Satan to take him as his own, Mrs. Claus burst on to the scene. She fainted and the other demons rushed her, pulling off her clothes. Astrid who danced as Astaroth rose up, her hair in disarray, her body naked.

The other demons danced up to her leading her away from where Santa and Satan where making out on Santa’s throne and into the arms of Scott’s wisher. Then the two danced as she fell in further into lust.

Then Eddie’s Lucifer walked out and threw out his hands. Everyone froze as if captured by Lucifer’s spell. Then yanked as if they were all on strings attached to his hands. All the dancers fell to the floor at his feet, even Santa, Mrs. Claus, and Scott.

“Someone’s been naughty, my little demons,” Lucifer said with a grin. “You need to put Santee Claus back so that he can deliver presents to all the kids of the world. Good and bad.”

Brian and Astrid stood up and walked up to Lucifer. Lucifer put his fingers under their chins. “You two are always welcome to come back for next year, but when I say you can.” He pushed them away. “Now run along.”

Both Astrid and Brian looked at each other and then gathered their clothes and ran off stage in different directions. Then he pulled Steve and Scott to him. “You two caused a lot a of mischief tonight and you know how I love mischief. So I’ll grant you each a Christmas wish.”

Scott wished to be a demon, which was granted, the clothes that he had worn all night, being torn off to reveal his nightly demon costume.

Steve looked up at Eddie and cocked his head to side. “I’m the demon of Envy, Lucy. You know what I want. Everything you have, I want it. All of it!”

Eddie pulled Steve’s Satan in close until they were practically fused to each other. “Oh my little Deadly Sin. You want everything and will always crave more and more. There is nothing in the world that would satisfy you. Nothing but me.”

Then pulled Steve in for searing kiss and the crowd went wild. Eddie ripped off the last part of Steve’s costume that he was still wearing which was the red leather thong and threw it at the audience.

“Because I all I want for Christmas,” Lucifer purred, leaning Satan back to touch his chest, “is you.”

He sealed that promise with a searing kiss.

~

Day 10 Day 11

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[syndrossi]

Au question

Who’s your favourite character ( favourite to write favourite to think about one you vibe with the most in) in each au? Their can have overlap if you you have multiple favourite

Regnal

Gotta be Baelon! He's so proud, and also so soft. He has a uniquely flowery kind of speech and inner voice that I enjoy writing, where he can be just a tad melodramatic, but in a sweet way? Like, I can weirdly see a lot of Rhaegar in him, even though Rhaegar gets all of the Aemon comparisons. I do really love to write Jaehaerys though, because he's so prideful (which I view as different to proud; Baelon tends to be proud of the people he loves, whereas Jaehaerys has pride in himself, what he has built, in his house). Like, if you think Daemon is prideful, he's nothing compared to Jaehaerys. We're talking a man who couldn't stand the stain on his family's honor (his pride) when Saera had her lovers scandal.

Reverberate

Daemon 100%. His joy at this second chance, and getting to enjoy every moment with his babies. His fear that something could happen to them. His protective fury when Volantis comes calling. His grappling with how he feels about Rhea in a world where he remembers what she did in his original timeline, while getting to know her as an actual person with fears and doubts and guilt here.

Restoration

Ooh, this is tough because it's so early on. My favorite POV to write so far, which may surprise people, was actually Bran's? It was my first time writing an actual eight-year-old's POV, and I really studied his early POVs in the books carefully, trying to capture his voice and inner thoughts and I was very pleased with how it turned out. His POV was the most "GRRM" I tried to be voice-wise, probably.

Ned making sense of things has maybe been the most fun to write. Big Jon is the hardest to write, because of the density/complexity of the emotions he's going through.

I know for a fact, however, that Cersei will be my absolute favorite to write. I AWAIT THE DAY.

And I love thinking about Daemon, and him wreaking absolute chaos on his eventual path to Essos and finding Dany. (Daemon basically adopting Dany on the spot will be a joy to write. Looks like his baby Rhaegar, definitely his somehow.)

Knight of Stars

Feels a bit early to be choosing someone here. Right now it's a toss-up between Arryk and Arthur. "Outsider" POVs are fun to write.

Aemon's Sons

Okay, fine, I've only written a tiny oneshot for this so far, but I'm gonna have a hard time picking between Aemon and Baelon (and looking forward to writing Alyssa and Jocelyn too!). Big sis Rhaenys too?? Too excited. Also more in-his-prime Jaehaerys to contend with, spicy.

The rest

I haven't written enough Reversal and Rescue is too tightly focused to really name a character for those!

[slightly-knot-insane]

My Eye on You

Monstertober 2024 - day 20 + 31 [ Fear of the Dark + Creature Feature ] by @/ozzgin

[ m!psoglavs* x fem!reader ]

*The quite literal translation for 'psoglav' is 'doghead'. They are nasty creatures, scavengers that eat corpses. They are described having human bodies with a dog head, one eye, iron teeth (and possibly hooves)

content: dub-con, gangbang, knife play, p in v, bukakke, biting, oral (both) tw: dub-con, (mention of) discrimination, racial fetishization

You look behind yourself. The street is very poorly lit and the gangs of psoglavs have been an issue in this area for a while. You click your tongue in annoyance. Calling groups of protesting psoglav "gangs" is very disrespectful. They've been discriminated for many years. Only working the worst jobs and suffering constant repression. The recent case of a psoglav child being refused treatment by a racist doctor sparked protests in the city. And they also ignited the darker side of psoglavs, especially at night.

But you know how much people have been unfair toward them. You've been working as a social worker for ten years and the amount of times you had to fight, yell and scream at authorities and your co-workers to stay professional and fair is alarming. And disappointing.

This is not your usual route of going home. The train stopped outside the station since it broke down and you had to walk through this unfamiliar district or go around following a quite longer path. It's an industrial zone and it's completely abandoned this late at night. You, admittedly, didn't think about that or about the lack of street lights. Which is very foolish.

You use your phone's flash to illuminate your path, but it feels like you're in a horror video game. You push your chin deeper into your jacket and walk faster. You don't get far before hearing a familiar sound of iron hooves ringing against the pavement. A group of psoglavs are following you. Shit.

You stop and turn around and your flash illuminates their impressive teeth and whites of their glaring eyes.

"I'm sorry for walking through here," you say. "I had no idea this was your area."

"Oh don't worry, we don't mind," one of them replies. You count four almost glowing eyes surrounding you. "We can help you get through here."

You take a step back, noticing the dangerous note in his voice. "I'm f-fine."

One of them pulls out a knife. "Oh but we insist."

"Wait..." The one whose eye is shining in a deep green shade steps forward. "I know her. She's one of the social workers who helped my nephew stay with my sister. She's... really nice."

The amount of humans and psoglavs that go through your office is too high for you to remember everyone... but you actually do remember this young man. A few weeks ago, he was sitting in the hallway comforting his little nephew while his sister was nervously pacing in front of the office. An immediate thought flashed through your mind - how caring and sweet he was. Not to mention you have a bit of a... thing for psoglavs and their lanky bodies and elongated arms.

"Is she?" The one with the knife relaxes. "That's okay... But she's still a human. I just... don't like them. Not anymore."

Being surrounded with these tall psoglavs fully electrified with conflicting emotions, aggression and frustration - got you sweating. And wet.

"Well, in any case, too bad such an opportunity go to waste." The next second the knife is at your throat, tip pressing against your pulse. You are too scared to swallow. "Unzip, darling."

One of them takes your phone and illuminates you as if you're on the stage. You remove your jacket and it falls to the ground. The knife slides between your breasts as it cuts your blouse. The tip burns your skin as it lightly enters your skin.

"Not even a little yelp?" The one with the knife mocks. "You are so brave." He proceeds to rip and cut your clothes, and his sharp knife makes a few cuts here an there. Soon you're left in your undies, exposed and trembling, covered in small lacerations. Psoglavs lick their lips and growl.

The knife dances across your stomach and ends up pressed just above your clit. You gasp from anticipation. "You're wet, darling. Your panties are soaked. Such a filthy slut you are." He lifts his knife and pulls it to his mouth. The slow dragging of the blade across his moist, steaming tongue sends a throb right into your core. You're no longer sure that the cold is making you tremble.

"Cherry boy!" You're surprised by his bark. The psoglav you know unglues his eyes from you and looks at his most likely leader. "Would you like to taste a human cunt?"

The cute psoglav seems flabbergasted at first, like he didn't understand the question, but then his bright green eye flashes. In one quick jump he's behind you, pulling you backwards with his long arms. He is squeezing your tits and pushing his hand between your legs, rubbing your damp underwear against your moist lips. He is too rough with you and you jolt.

"Ah... sorry!" His voice is less deep than the leader's, less rough, almost velvety. "You are just so... gorgeous. I really want to... fuck you... I've watched so much psoglav and human porn..."

His friends giggle. The young psoglav growls and fondles you harder. His eager, impatient, raspy pants tickle your exposed neck. He is drooling down your bare back. You can only imagine the state this youngsters is in - and that excites you. Especially the hardness pressing against the small of your back. His bony long fingers pinch your nipples. "So pretty... so soft..."

"Bend her down," the leader instructs him. "She is too short for you so I will help you. It's a shame not to use that delicate mouth of hers too."

He pulls out his semi-hard cock out of his jeans just as the young psoglav pushes your back, bending you forward. "I love human asses," he growls and slaps you. "They are so fat, so soft, I just.... nggghh..."

You feel his hot breath on your ass. The first bite is unpleasant and you yelp. "Hey, easy!"

"S-sorry... I just can't control..." His sharp teeth will definitely leave bruises but you're sure he could do a lot worse if he wanted to.

"Let's keep that mouth of yours busy." The leader takes you by your shoulders and lifts you right in front of his red and swollen cock. He doesn't need to tell you anything and you slurp that thing right in your mouth. You always wondered how does psoglav cock taste like. The leader hisses through his teeth, surprised by your action. "Fuck..."

The young psoglav behind you moves your underwear to the side and the next thing you feel is the long and slimy tongue hitting your g-spot like a torpedo. You whimper and wriggle around, but strong arms hold you in place. "Keep sucking my cock you slut, and let my friends have fun with you."

"You taste so good..." Youngster is slurping and humming against your pussy, eating you out like a juicy watermelon. You knees tremble and you have to grab the leaders jeans just to stay on your feet.

"Come on, cherry boy. Get your cock out. We don't have all night."

With an annoyed grunt, the tongue retracts from your core, just as your orgasm was starting to build up. You whimper and buck your hips wanting him to continue. And fast. The two other psoglavs get their leaking cocks out and stroke them on each of your side.

"Fuck..." The nervousness almost breaks young psoglav's voice. He lifts your thigh high up to position himself, lifting you up with his other arm cupping your stomach. He misses once, twice... but the third time your soaked pussy almost sucks him in. "Oh fuck, I'm inside...." His excitement is so adorable. "I... oh fuck... oh fuck... this is so good..."

His thrusts are insecure for mere seconds before they turn impatient and vigorous, catching a delightful rhythm. Your g-spot gets rubbed by his thick cock, the pressure sending pulses of irresistible pleasure. You get slightly dizzy, two strong psoglavs holding you horizontally almost completely lifted in the air, and you just buck your hips chasing your release before it washes over you. Your scream is muffled by a cock shoved down your throat and they barely notice it from all their panting and growls.

"Great job!" the leader praises the ex-virgin. "You made her cum. You will be an excellent lover."

The young psoglav doesn't say anything, but his thrusts become erratic and irregular and, with a low growl ,he grabs your thigh and pushes himself inside your pussy as far as he can go and releases his load into a body for the first time. Probably turned even more on by his and your panting, the rest of psoglavs shoot their loads on your face and back, covering you with their thick and sticky seed.

"Well..." The leader is breathless. He suddenly releases you and you would've fell onto the ground face first if the young psoglav behind you didn't grab you by the hips and helped you up. "This was fun. Thank you for being on our side, human. We'll keep an eye on you."

The three of them push their cocks inside their jeans and walk away. The young psoglav stays a bit longer to make sure you can stand on your own. After fixing himself up, he removes his jacket and places it on your naked shoulders and runs after his friends. But you see his green eye flashing back toward you, at least one more time.

[greatbridge]

My versions of Relativity Scalene & Euclid :]

(Second drawing is the more recent one)

For my version of Relativity Falls, I really liked the ideas that people put out about scalene and Euclid, so I sort of took that concept and ran with it. Here are some Thoughts I had, if u wanna use em for ur own rf versions then go wild!!! Just tell me that you’re using them because I love to see other people’s interpretations of this au :)

I really liked the idea that someone else had of them sort of being physically “together” in a sense (this, where they are back-to-back(made by @fungalscrungle)). the idea of them being so codependent they actually sort of became “one” was really interesting, but I messed with it a but more and ended up with them both shaped in a way that they can “snap” together like magnets. They are actually two separate entities, but they are joined at the hip in the most literal sense to the point that they are constantly at each other’s side.

They both have little pieces of one another, which I decided were the Euclidean version of wedding rings. Idk it seemed fitting for Bill’s parents to “carry a piece of the other wherever they go” but literal. He’d probably think it’s romantic to have a piece of your partner’s body at all times, and… these are his parents.

Scalene is the one on the left, she’s the “mother”, and Euclid is the one on the right, he’s the “father”. Considering their dimension has 14 billion different genders, I like to think that they decided to emulate the 1950’s “nuclear family” stereotype to seem “friendlier” to humans

Actually their whole vibe really revolves around that stereotype. They really REALLY give off 1950’s nuclear family suburban white couple vibes in the way they talk, like “hey honey! How about we mentally torture this human today?” “I thought you’d never ask, pumpkin!” Because those always seem threatening to me. It’s the sanitization, the perfection, the blank smiles that show just a bit too much teeth. The “perfection” to the point of inhumanity, you know?

And that sort is is the opposite of what gravity falls embodies, isn’t it? Like being ur authentic weird self vs. being a perfect version of you that hides anything different

Euclid is more methodic and calm, meanwhile Scalene is sweet, but it’s a cover for a lot of the same manic instability that bill had, LIKE THE 50’S HOUSEWIFE STEREOTYPE.

Their dynamic can essentially be summed up as “She kills ppl, he hides the bodies.” True love💖

When they possess someone, maybe since there’s two of them doing it at the same time, the person’s brain starts to overheat or get damaged, since there’s not enough space for them.

In relation to Dipper, I absolutely ADORE the idea that @amissamidstthemist had (here). LIKE YES!!!! They WOULD have a sort of “parental bond” with Dipper! That is SO PEAK!

They would like baby him and praise him and Euclid would ruffle his hair and Scalene would call him affectionate names.

Not only do they tap into his loneliness when it comes to that, but they also tap into his paranoia, make him believe everybody else is out to get him. He can only rely on them. “TRUST NO ONE!” (This actually is them just making a trait dipper already has worse, but one day I think i’ll touch on that)

For their backstory, I don’t know if anyone else has thought of this(someone probably has tbh) but for me they probably tried to see the stars for their son and because of that destroyed their dimension and their son with it(ow.)

BECAUSE OF THIS, they actually begin to get attached to Dipper, because he reminds them of their son, and constantly compare him to their son.

They treat Dipper a bit like the Other Mother treated Coraline.

OKAY I THINK THAT’S ALL. UH. ENJOY I GUESS LMAO

[razzmatash]

Only One Day 9 - Christmas Market Love and Deepspace Sylus x f!OC 1580 words Read on Ao3 banner by firefly-graphics

Exhaling slowly, Sylus looked over the crowd filling the area. This was...not his idea of a nice afternoon. His hand unconsciously tightened on Calliope’s as he tried to figure out the best way to get through this.

“We can come back another time,” she murmured, picking up on his mood immediately.

“And have your sister bitch about me more?” He honestly didn’t care what Carrow thought, they’d been at odds for far longer than the Hunter could even imagine, but he didn’t like the thought of Calliope having to suffer because of it. He knew she didn’t tell him half of the shit her twin complained about and he wasn’t going to willingly add to it.

“She doesn’t do it as often anymore,” Calliope said quietly, leading him off to the side so they weren’t blocking the flow of foot traffic.

She still did it. He wondered if she was still trying to convince Calliope to leave him. She’d been less than enthused when the news had broken that they were doing more than just resonating and he still had the flurry of texts the Hunter had sent him in response. He hadn’t taken any of them seriously because he knew that no matter how much Carrow wanted to hurt him, she wasn’t going to willingly hurt her sister.

Calliope popped up on her toes and he obligingly leaned down to meet her. The kiss was quick and sweet with a hint of the sugar cookie she’d had earlier. “Tell me if you want to leave,” she said honestly, holding his gaze as she dropped back down. “I know this is a lot for you and I appreciate that you agreed to come with. But I want to know if it’s too much.”

Smiling, Sylus stroked the back of his fingers over her rosy cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m serious.”

He knew that. But he wasn’t going to be the reason they called this off early. He would endure the market and her sister because he was still spending time with her. Lifting their entwined hands, he kissed the back of hers and smiled again. “Let’s find her before she gets mad.”

Calliope huffed out a laugh. “I know where they are,” she said dryly. “Zayne found the macaron booth.”

It was a wonder the man still had any teeth with the amount of sweets he consumed. Sylus kept his mouth shut as she kept a firm grip on his hand and led him into the market. Even though they were in Linkon City and no one was likely to recognize him, his body tensed at how many people were around them. It would be so easy for someone to hide in the crowd. What’s more, he stood out so easily that it wouldn’t be hard to make a move against him. While he knew how it would end, he didn’t like the thought of putting Calliope in harm’s way if he didn’t have to.

He pushed out a breath as her thumb stroked against his hand, trying to soothe him as best she could. The effort was appreciated but it would take a lot more than that to really help him. Maybe he could convince her to tuck into a quiet place with him afterwards, just the pair of them. Have an early dinner before he had to leave town again.

Although, it was highly likely that her sister would also want to do something with her.

“There they are,” Calliope said. “Right where I said they’d be.”

His gaze skipped over the booths, seeing her twin and the good doctor standing in front of a colourful display with boxes already in their hands. “How many do you think they’ve bought?”

“He’d get them all if Carrow wouldn’t bitch about it,” she muttered.

He smirked as her sister turned to them, almost like she’d heard her name. Her face lit up for a moment before a faint scowl marred her expression as she locked on him. “Hunter,” he said as they came up to the booth. He looked it over before going back to keeping his attention on the people.

“Skye. I didn’t think you’d make it.”

His brow twitched at the name but he didn’t react beyond that.

“Can you not antagonize him the moment we get here?” Calliope growled. “We can leave if you don’t want us here.”

“I want you here.”

“Well, he comes with me so stop it.”

Sylus smiled to himself and gently squeezed her hand. She didn’t have to fight his battles but it amused him that she immediately leapt to his defence, no matter who was on the other side. He didn’t need to look to know that Carrow was trying not to seethe and rein in her own dislike. His disinterest probably wasn’t helping matters either.

“Carrow, did you want anything else?”

Calliope leaned into him a little as Carrow was distracted by Zayne and he looked down at her. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m fine.” It would take a lot more than some barbed words to get him to leave and if he did, he was taking her with him.

She gave him a little smile before looking around. “Do you see anything you want to look at?”

Here? The market was full of small businesses and artisans. Which didn’t mean he wouldn’t find something interesting but it wasn’t his usual scene. “Do you?” he countered.

“There are a few cider booths that Carrow wanted to look at.”

Sylus flicked a look at Zayne at the comment. How long had they been here that they’d already scoped out the place? And cider? They all knew that Calliope didn’t drink so would it really be that interesting for her?

“Lead on.”

Carrow watched both of them for a moment before she followed Zayne as he started into the crowd.

Leaning down, he murmured, “Only one.”

Dark blue eyes looked at him and he didn’t miss the huffy pout on her face. “It’s just cider.”

“One.”

“They’re small samples.”

“Do you want me to have to carry you out of here? Because I will.”

Her nose wrinkled. “One,” she mumbled in agreement.

He smiled and didn’t let go of her as she started off after the other pair. While he enjoyed how giggly and flirty she got while she drank, he knew she didn’t like that it only took one glass to get her there. He might be comfortable with her having one while they were in the comfort of one of their homes, but he knew it happening here was not going to go over well.

But he still looked over the booth with interest, curious to see if there was anything worthwhile.

“This is our featured cider for the month,” one of the vendors said, showing a bottle to the other couple. “It’s a rose cider with a blend of apples and berries. It pairs well with most meals.”

Leaning past Calliope, he picked up a little cup of the cider they were talking about. Her eyes followed him, waiting for him to try it first, and he couldn’t help his smile. Was he to be her measuring stick for which one she’d pick? Taking a sip, he let it wash over his tongue and slowly inhaled as well. He could definitely smell the rose aspect of it but he wasn’t sure if she’d appreciate the dryness of it. “Not bad,” he admitted, tossing the little cup aside. “But you deserve something better.”

Her eyes narrowed at him but not before he saw the way they were dancing.

He tipped his head slightly, smiling at her, and he looked at the vendor. “Do you have something with more sweetness?” he asked, drawing their attention away from the other couple. “Not overwhelming though.”

The woman blinked at him for a moment before smiling and nodding. “This one has notes of caramel and vanilla,” she said, picking up another bottle to show them. “It’s medium bodied as well, if you want something a little milder.”

Reading the name, he plucked up another sample and tried it. He considered it and hummed quietly. “Better.”

“Good enough for my one?”

“I haven’t tried all of them, have I?” he tossed back at her and picked up the bottle to read it.

“Or I could have more than one.”

“You shouldn’t do that, Calli.”

Sylus flicked a look at Zayne. So the good doctor was aware of Calliope’s non-existent tolerance.

“Not you too!” she protested. “It’s just cider!”

“Did you eat something? You shouldn’t have more than one on an empty stomach.”

Sylus hid his smile by turning to Calliope and lifting his brows at her. “Doctor’s orders,” he teased.

“Oh, now you play nice,” she growled.

“I always play nice, kitten.”

She snorted and carefully picked up one of the cups.

He watched as she sipped at it, her nose wrinkling a little bit but he recognized this look.

Turning back to the vendor, he smiled. “We’ll take a bottle,” he told her, “and you’re still only allowed one.”

He heard Carrow snort and quickly try to cover it up but he was more focused on the flush that was already settling on Calliope’s cheeks. Well. Maybe she was only allowed one over all if she was already going to react to it. He’d been willing to let her try at least one more but his kitten was just too much of a lightweight.

[fallout-lou-begas]

so the thing is that i imagine pauling having a very codependent abusive mother figure situation with the administrator where the administrator has beaten her down so completely to where she doesn't think that she is capable of being anyone or anything outside of her role as the administrator's assistant and buries and suppresses her humanity and emotions and needs as much as possible to fill that role and when she's surrounded by professional lunatics the only one she can really ever open up to is the brilliant but soft-spoken sweetheart from texas though of course it is accidental at first with engineer simply detecting that something is wrong because she's having a really rough day and he just gets her some extra coffee or something thoughtful to try to take a load off because it's the kind thing to do and it just really touches her and as engineer becomes her point-person for logistics and planning because of course she really respects his intellect the professional boundaries of their relationship just erode more and more because pauling is both literally and metaphorically touch-starved and every time this guy makes another goofy science joke she feels her stomach doing flips and engineer has caught a few feelings too but is way too much of a good ol boy gentleman to act on them in an improper way and also he's at least a decade older than her so there's all that but eventually things reach a breaking point because she either needs to risk everything to experience the physical and emotional release she desperately craves or else she'll curdle despite this being expressly forbidden by the adminstrator so now you've got the two smartest people in team fortress trying to hide their unauthorized workplace relationship from everyone and in between assassinations and battles miss pauling is daydreaming of a cute little ranch house life with her sweet texas bumblebee. okay? and that adds so much weight to engineer convincing miss pauling to sink the australium cache by telling her straight-up that if she keeps it then he won't have anything to do with it, or with her???? and you have to imagine them being in love but also the first conversation they've had directly in over six months based on the timeline of the comic??? OKAY????!!!

i can't put this in the main tag because non-lesbian miss pauling is a third rail for a lot of people (and before anybody gets mad at me: i'm a lesbian) but i will say: TF2 Comic #7 finally delivered a huge win to the Engie/Pauling truthers out there. it's me. i'm the truthers.

[leviiackrman]

"I used to think you were unapproachable. But here I am, approaching you"

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[deva-arts]

Happy Birthday, Vincent! Where did all the years go?

For the first time in my life, I looked at the people surrounding me and felt nothing but mirth. Ease. Restful, ambrosian peace. It's shockingly foreign. Warms the chest. Stings the eyes. I hope this feeling lasts forever. I capture every detail, dissecting each millisecond that passes, sense by sense. The air on my skin, and the scraps of sunlight hitting me. The way the room looks, and the looks in their faces, their eyes. The different laughs and conversations, some even praising me, offering good wishes. The sweetness from foods I never would have received, and the smooth scent of a home. One that's been lived in and cared about. I want to remember it. Engrave it somewhere deep and secret, so I can always return and find the same sights, smells and sounds. If I can't have that, then I hope it lasts a little longer, at least.

+ Close-ups!

Yeah. Just a little longer.

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 5!!!

[killjoy-prince]

Ray's After Ending is so funny because for a good chunk of it, most of the RFA members are knocked out by V's sleeping gas (Saeran is immune, Saeyoung isn't present bc he was kidnapped by his agency under his father's orders and MC wakes up in like an hour) but the game has a call feature where you can call the characters and it would be a waste if you couldn't use it bc the characters were unavailable so instead they have other people pick up the call (Jumin's driver picks up Jumin's phone, Jumin's father picks up Zen's phone, Yoosung's friends and mom pick up Yoosung's phone and Jaehee's coworkers pick up Jaehee's phone) and we do get to learn about the characters from outsider's point of view but it's so funny to me that these people are visiting their loved ones and suddenly the phone rings and they decide to just. answer it. and start talking to this stranger they've never met

[hecksupremechips]

Constantly torn between writing a character to be just a nice guy and writing that character to be the most fucked up creature in existence