#I love the idea of them being like oh fuck no blankets

[imthursdaysyme]

When you gotta use your homie as a blanket, stobin edition

[moonlight-prose]

I saw that prompt list you reblogged and so if you’re looking for logan ideas i really liked:

10) finding their partner’s sex toy/toys and making them play with it in front of them

Love your fics btw too!!! 💜💜

hunger

a/n: oh my brain went to mush at this one. like actively i've lost brain cells and am currently scrounging to find more. this is basically me being a horny bitch for this man. (possibly cause i'm ovulating). but that's okay. we're all here to do the exact same thing!

summary: things are set into motion the second logan opens your drawer. suddenly you find yourself the center of a show with only one audience member.

word count: 1.7k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, hints at oral (f receiving), cigar smoking, voyeurism, dirty talk, he's so filthy i blushed writing this.

Accidental was far from the word he'd use to describe the current situation. He'd rather say it was intentional. At least that's what it felt like when you sent him to your drawer for a pair of clean boxers you stole from him in the first few weeks of dating. Logan was used to the act. Finding his flannels strewn throughout your closet—his leather jacket draped across the foot of your bed like a fancy throw blanket.

He felt it before he saw it. The soft silicone feel of something small—an uninteresting object he normally would have overlooked. He pushed it out of the way at first, mistaking it entirely for the little portable charger you usually keep by the bed.

Only for it to roll to the side, the button hitting the drawer. A loud buzz drew his attention close within seconds. His hand grasping the small vibrator and flicking it off with a smirk. A look he wore when the choice to fuck you into the mattress solidified in his mind.

"Hey what's taking so long?" You stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel—water droplets streaming off your naked body, forming a small puddle on the hardwood floors of your shared bedroom.

He close his fist around the small device when he stood, holding the clothes you were waiting for. Logan watched you smile, reach for his hand, and stop short as his other palm opened—revealing the black little toy you only kept for emergencies.

For nights when he was called on a mission that might land them in deep waters for days on end. You never minded—it was part of the job after all—but telling Logan that you fucked yourself in your spare time to ease the thoughts of him that plagues you...wasn't an easy conversation to have. Yet there it was. Staring directly at you; taunting you with the knowledge that he found it before you could locate a better hiding spot.

"Got somethin' to tell me bub?"

Your mouth dried at the sight of his grin—nostrils flaring as your scent sharpened in the air. Thicker than before; the tell tale sign that you weren't angry or irritated. But interested in where he might take this.

Before you could snatch it from his hands, he tossed the clothes back into the still open drawer. His smile on deepening at the sight of your swallow—the steady thrum of your heart now a quick flutter under your chest. There was no hiding how you felt with him. Not when he was so in tune with your body it nearly scared you.

He could smell the pool of slick that began to form in between your clenched thighs. The sharp breath you sucked in giving him enough confirmation to keep going. You wanted this—him. And though he could never understand why, he rarely questioned it.

So he nodded towards the bed, dragging the chair you kept at your desk over to sit a foot away from where you were perched. Your hand still clutching the towel and eyes stuck on the vibrator in his hold.

Logan lowered himself with a sigh—legs spread and body relaxed as your eyes trailed down his stomach to the thick expanse of his thighs. Last night you were perched on one, reduced to a whiny moaning mess as he dragged you along the rough denim. Watching you work yourself into a high that left you immobile.

His head tilted, gaze dragging down your body, tongue swiping out to wet his bottom lip. "You aren't gonna need the towel bub," he rasped.

"I don't know what we're doing."

"Don't you trust me?" You nodded quicker than you expected. "Then drop it and spread those pretty legs for your old man."

A soft whimper barely legible above your gasp echoed in the room. Logan heard it as if you pressed it directly to his ear. You scooted back on the bed, the towel now forgotten and dropped to the floor. He shifted at the sight of your feet pushed against the soft comforter, your cunt on full display for him to view.

"There we go," he murmured.

Your hand slipped down, sliding through your slick for barely a second before he was clicking his tongue. "That's not what I want."

"B-but you said-"

"I said spread 'em. Not touch your pretty little clit."

"Logan," you breathed, fighting the pull that demanded you find some sort of relief. Even if that came in the form of your own touch.

He merely lounged in the chair, smiling at how you battled with yourself in order to be good for him. Oh how he loved the sight of your brows pulled together—need eating away at the very core of your body. If he was a better man he'd let you choose what to do.

He'd follow your lead.

But that remained something he never excelled at.

"Don't worry. She'll get the attention she needs." He leaned over you, placing the familiar device between your breasts—a kiss quickly snuck against your nipple that peaked under the wet heat of his mouth. "I'm real interested in how you use this sweetheart. Show me?"

The breath escaped you with a punch to your stomach as he settled back in his previous spot. You glanced at him—heat spilling beneath your cheeks—and felt a wave of slick drip down to the bed at the sight of him pulling a cigar free. He cut the end off, stuck it between his teeth, and flicked the lighter on with practiced ease.

This was a show and he remained the only audience member.

"Go on," he mumbled, smoke unfurling past his lips. "Be a good girl."

With a shaky breath, you gingerly picked up the vibrator and turned it on. This was second nature to you now. Laying in bed with your legs spread as you listened to the buzzing sound that would bring you your desired orgasm. You'd been here before. You would no doubt be here again.

Only this time Logan paid attention to every minuscule movement. He clung to the way you slid your hand down and pressed the end of it to the very top of your clit. Almost as if you were the best fucking program he had the privilege to watch.

Instead of the rush of sweaty embarrassment you almost expected. You were greeted with a boost of pride at the sound of his harsh groan. The chair creaking under his weight as he shuffled to find some relief for his growing cock.

"How's it feel bub?" he breathed, inhaling another drag from his cigar.

You sighed, high pitched and needy. "Good."

"Yeah?" He shifted again when you slid the vibrator through the lips of your cunt, a moan spilling past your parted lips. "Fuck. You normally take your time with it?"

Nodding, you dragged it back up to your clit, teasing yourself with small circles. "F-Feels better like this."

That familiar tug in your gut began to grow the longer you held it against yourself, building quicker than before. You knew it was on account of him watching you. Licking his lips and white knuckling his cigar to keep from sliding his tongue through your slick. You had half a mind to beg him. To see if you could get him to break.

The minute you slipped it down further and plunged it into your tight walls was enough for him. He snapped with a feral grunt. His hands working the belt buckle of his jeans—a whisper of his zipper being tugged down—before his cock sprang free. The tip red and shiny with precum.

You moaned at the sight, legs trembling as you pumped the vibrator clumsily into your cunt. "Touch yourself," you gasped, stomach going taut. "Please. Need to see you baby."

"Fuck sweetheart. Gonna make me cum like a fuckin' teenager." He spit loudly into his palm, slicking up his cock with a heady moan.

"P-Pretty," you slurred.

"Look whose talkin'," he huffed. The cigar now clamped between his teeth.

The intensity of his gaze only grew when you replaced the device with two of your fingers. Rapidly working them in tandem with the buzzing on your swollen clit. Sparks shot down your spine, heat clamping tight around your stomach. What time you thought remained now worked its way to an eviscerating crescendo.

"Your creamin' around your fingers bub," he grunted, the wet slap of his hand blending with the echo of your cunt. "Want to lick you clean after this."

Your walls fluttered, heart leaping to your throat. "Can I suck your cock?"

A ragged moan filled the empty spaces that lay between. "Can't say no to you."

"Logan," you mewled. "'M gonna-"

He snarled, abruptly sitting forward, hand still working his cock in rapid strokes. "C'mon. Cum for me. Give me a show."

The string holding you together broke in two, flooding your body with bliss and turning your vision blurry. His name was a broken cry torn from your throat—hips canting up into your touch as you pushed the vibrator harder against your clit. Until the pleasure began to seep into pain. A whimper echoed in the room when you pulled away, legs falling to dangle off the bed—body now entirely spent.

The soft press of his lips against your knee jolted you slightly; the nerves under your skin still sensitive. He dropped to the floor, eyes latched onto the way your entrance fluttered, cum now forming a mess between your thighs.

"Made such a pretty mess for me bub."

You sighed, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. "You like it?"

Wet open mouth kisses trailed along your inner thigh, his nose pressed to the curls above your center. "I fuckin' love it," he sighed, inhaling your heady scent with a groan.

"It's yours."

You gasped when his tongue slid along your cunt, thumbs spreading you to reach every fucking inch. "Yes it is." He pressed a kiss to each lip, sucking them into his mouth as if he was kissing you. "All fuckin' mine."

[spotaus]

Ancha I mean this in literally every possible positive way, this is what I'm doing with this drabble rn (I love it dearly and mere words or keyboard smash cannot describe the way I am going feral over it)

Gifted drabble - New Age Au - The Eye of the Storm

Hey @spotaus !! I am back as I told you I would be because you gave me MORE brainworms! Remember us talking about the magic system? or me just yapping and rambling about it hahah.

And the thing you mentioned about how Geno would react to seeing Dust's storm? Yeah. Brainworms.

Either way. It can all still be changed as Spotaus and I discuss the magic system and how everything works.

So warning? ish? Deep intimacy by showing the soul. reference to past toxic relationship ship is DustedAfterDeath

This is them FAR beyond their toxic arc youall. They relationship is healthy and full of consent at this point :3

*---------------*

Dust frowns as he stares at the door.

It is fine.

It isn't that big of a deal.

Just get it over with.

Dust sighs as he rubs the soft cotton of his hoody. He is still in his casual wear for now. He had a few days off and he hardly ever wore his uniform on those days nowadays. Especially when Geno and Reaper visit.

He is still a bit unsure about this whole relationship between them. Dust wants to say he fully trusts them but... well... after...

It is hard.

Which is why Dust had decided to just make this jump. Fuck it. Show them the disgusting mess that is his soul and get it over with. They will see it. Be disgusted. Break off whatever this relationship is and be done with it.

Easy.

Dust takes another deep breath as he feels his storm around his soul rumble unhappily. He needs to remain calm. That will keep his storm calm enough to make it safe for them to look at it.

Dust does not want a repeat of the many times he zapped others with lightning. Even a tiny warning zap is stronger than a full blown lightning strike at this point. Dust frowns as he taps the doorknob. Maybe this isn't a good idea after all...

He may have enough control to form actual attacks but actually keeping it calm?

What if he hurts them? They will hate him...

Then again... if they see the mess that his soul is...

Or worse... Dust was right after all and Geno and Reaper just wanted to know how his storm works and it was all still fake. He was being blind again and falling for the exact same trick again.

Then again... they don't know how deeply connected to his soul it is. No one knows aside from Nightmare and his fellow Knights. They don't even speak about that out loud unless they are in a very secure room and know they are alone.

Even with all of Geno's past prodding and hinting Dust never told him that. Even if Dust knew that Geno wanted to know how he had such powerful magic. It was his secret. and Dust had been willing to take it to the grave with him...

Dust offered to show them his soul. Take the next step before they could move their relationship towards soulplay and other acts like it. They didn't know that they would find out the source of his magic...

Which brings him back to this exact point. Wouldn't it be better to just get it over with? If they really are still lying about everything... Wouldn't it be better to know it? To be able to let it go and move on?

Not that Dust thinks he can move on. If he could have he would have after the first mess that this relationship was.

But Dust is aparently an idiot because he is trying this again even if the chance it will hurt is much larger than the chance that this will be alright.

Okay that is not fair. They had been so much more honest about this whole relationship and Geno didn't even mention or ask about his magic since the mess that it had been. He also acutally paid attention to the few things Dust said now...

Then why did he still feel like a speciman? Like a project?

He doesn't like that... Feeling like that. It was why he was fine with being a crimelord before. Why he liked being a knight. No one looked at him with pity when he did either of those. Neither of those positions ever made people look at him like... like... some magical experiment...

His family had meant well... The mage who did this to save his life meant well... but it didn't change the way they looked at him... The worry he would just drop over and be gone. Then later the fear that the magic stabilizing him would just stop working... Then... Then the worry... after he started to cause damage.

Dust glares at the door. Fuck it. Either he is going to prove himself right that they really are still just after information and then he can finally bury these feelings and be done with it all. Or...

Or...

Dust shakes his skull as he pushes the hope down. Don't hope. That gets you hurt.

He knocks on the door and enters as soon as Reaper welcomes him in.

Reaper smiles brightly at him "Dust you are here already. How was your day off?"

Dust shrugs and mutters fine. He hadn't done that much today. Mostly spend time with the horses as he tried to not feel anxious about what he was about to do now.

Reaper keeps smiling "I am happy to hear this." He shoots his mate a look.

Geno looks terrible... mostly because he is obviously anxious and nervous, maybe even uncomfortable.

Dust huffs as he crosses his arms, feeling defensive "You can just say you aren't interested. It was just an idea." It had been Dust's idea after all.

Geno shakes his skull as he messes with soemthing in his lap. Some spell probably. Geno looks nervous "It isn't that i... don't want to... That isn't the issue... It is just... you never seemed comfortable with anything close to this... and then this?" he glances at Reaper.

Reaper picks up easily "Are you sure this is what you are comfortable with?"

Dust shrugs. He isn't. But it is best to get it over with. But the doubt either will like to hear that answer.

Reaper looks fond at him, it makes Dust's soul do this weird little flip thing it is unfair Reaper looks at him like that, "Can you please explain Dust? We wish to understand."

That is something that had surprised Dust. How much they want him to talk or tell them how he feels. Dust finds it unfair. Before Geno didn't even bother to listen to the few things Dust did talk about and now he pays attention? It is just so different. Dust isn't sure how to feel about it. It is nice but it also means he has to explain things he can't quite explain.

Dust searches for the right words "I want... you two to see... it." it. That is the best way to explain the storm.

Geno looks bothered as he loosk up "Why call your soul it?"

Dust shakes his skull. It isn't normal. It isn't healthy... This is dumb. They will both just be disgusted and then this little nice thing will be ruined forever.

Dust shrugs "It is hard to explain..." he decides to echo some words back "Open communication and honesty or something... Soul is not the... healthiest." there.

Reaper looks super worried as Geno looks slightly more horrified. Ugh. Yeah. that is what Dust figured. He tugs on his hood to enable himself to hide more. He wishes he still had his mask.

Reaper shakes his skull "No no love. Nothing against you... But is it safe for you then? To even summon and show your soul?" he looks worried. Geno keeps his mouth shut but he shoots both Dust and Reaper looks.

It is now or never.

Dust sighs as he takes a seat on the bed and shoots them both a look "Well?" and he waits. His hands feels the soft silky sheets on the bed. It calms him. The bed feels like the bed in his own room. Even though he prefers his cotten and woolen stuff. He keeps rubbing the sheets with his fingers as his two boyfriends take their own seats.

Both wait and share a look.

Geno grins a bit "Want me to show my soul first?"

Dust shakes his soul. He does not need to see a healthy soul before he shows his mangled one. Dust will just lose the nerve. Geno looks bothered but doesn't offer again.

Dsut takes another deep breath. Tugs his scarf higher and his hood closer around his skull before slowly tugging at this very core.

And there it is.

Dust always thought it was like a cloud. Just in a weird soul shape all around his actual soul. The tiny malnourished one that never was able to grow fully. The magic and his actual soul work well and seem to connect with tiny bolts of lightning. Dust doesn't even feel it anymore. So used to the constant zapping emitted to his very being... The zaps outwards obviously at much more harmful. as Dust can channel those into actual attacks.

He is not looking at either of them as he waits. Just because he is willing to hear it doesnt mean he wants to see the disgust and horror on their faces...

"It is beautiful..." Geno whispers and Dust can't help but snap up slightly to check. Geno is just staring with open awe at the mess that is his core. Geno doesn't even seem to notice it as he slowly reaches a hand out.

Dust moves the cloud away "Don't touch it!" he stresses it.

Geno blinks and looks confused before seeing his hand "oh shit! sorry. I didn't... i wasn't thinking... I swear i didn't... i wouldnt!" he looks anxious as he holds both arms behind his back.

Dust frowns as hekeeps looking at Geno "I mean it... I can't exactly... control it... It will zap you full force... I already fried Cross once and that was a non-lethal hit... I don't think it will like it if you get that close..."

Geno frowns but Reaper is the one who speaks "It? Why do you refer to the magic as an it?" He seems curious as he looks at the soul and spell. Seemingly enchanted.

Dust frowns as he looks at it "I... well... I tend to just call it my storm... as that is pretty much it..."

Geno seems nervous "I euh... Just so you know you can just tell me to stuff it... But... euh... why is there a very complex spell around your soul?" He looks at Dust and waits.

Dust frowns at him. He knows their question would come. It was to be expected. He looks at the spell and settles on telling the truth "It is my life support system."

Reaper jumps upright "What?" he glances at Geno "Is that normal?"

Geno looks horrified "No? Magic is too... unstable and unpredictable? Which mage... who would... why?" he sputters and seems shocked.

Dust feels more uncertain as he ducks his skull more into his scarf. It isn't that he is surprised but it still hurts... why does it still hurt so much? He knew this was going to happen.

He holds his storm closer as the rumbling in it intensifies with his own shaking emotions. This was a mistake. He recalls both and the soul and storm disappear.

That seems to snap Reaper and Geno out of their slight moment or horror and panic as they shoot him glances.

Geno inhales sharply as he reaches out "Wait! Sorry. Fuck I am sorry. I didn't mean anything negative i swear! I just don't understand. It is fine! It looked beautiful!" He smiles.

Dsut shrugs and mutters "It is fine... it is disgusting... i know..." He wants to leave. He wants to go to his room and cry a bunch... he tugs his scarf higher as he pushes back into his hood. He wants his mask. He wants to hide.

Geno shakes his skull "No. It really is gorgeous i swear! Like a geode!"

That causes him to pause and shoot Geno an disbelieving look "A geode?" the absolute absurb nature of that has to be commented on. A geode?!

Geno nods "Of course it does it is so obvious."

Dsut just raises a brow at him "Really?"

Geno nods with a stubborn tilt "summon it again! I will point it out." he holds up his hands "No touching! Just pointing."

Dust frowns but slowly brings the mess out again.

Geno grins as he scoots a bit closer before beginning to talk "Okay. It is really cool and pretty. Your soul itself is obviously the very center. Everything around it is like the geode itself protecting your soul. The crystalized minerals just barely touching your soul and that makes the colouring probably! The little crystals are all slightly differently forming and shaping and growing. Reforming new connections and growths." Geno points and motions towards the cloud nearest his soul "Around that sits the metaphorical layer of stone protecting it!" when he speaks about that he motions towards the very outer layer of his cloud.

Dust rolls his eye lights "How do you explain the zaps of electricity going outwards?" Like his storm knows waht he wants it makes a tiny zap.

Instead of looking confused Geno just gasps and stares "Holy that is beautiful... It is like... the start of anew crystal growing! It is so beautiful."

Reaper looks curiously at Dust "how do you see it?"

Dust looks to the side "You know... a storm cloud? obviously?" because it is? At least Dust thought that.

Reaper hums as he looks at it curiously "I can see both... though I think it looks more like..." and he stops.

Geno looks curiously at Reaper "what do you see?"

Reaper looks slightly embarrassed "Lets keep it at a gem and a beautiful cloud... that is much more romantic." and he smiles.

Dust tilts his skull "Come on. Tell."

Reaper sighs but stares at the soul and cloud around it with a gentle smile "It is... Sea urchin."

Geno snorts as Dust blinks confused. He had heard of those animals before but never actually seen one.

Reaper chuckles "Yes yes love. laugh it up." he looks amused.

Dust shoots him a look before looking at his soul and storm "why?"

Reaper hums and speaks slowly "Well... it is like a protective shell isn't it? Your soul is safely tugged away within the center. Where it is safe and protected by the larger shell around it." he motions towards the cloud before motioning towards the everlasting zaps "And the spines to protect the treasure that lays hidden."

Dust frowns at his soul. He never... He never thought about his soul as either of those things... His soul was just the mangled thing... while his storm was the thing powering him and keeping him whole.

Not the center of a crystal cluster thing... Not something that had a shield and spikes to protect it...

Geno scoots over and looks curiously "Why... why is that magic there? if you are okay with me knowing... It is okay if you are not..."

Dust frowns "I told you... life support..."

Reaper sits nearby "How came it to be like that?"

Dust shrugs as he messes with the magic around his soul. It doesn't harm him in the least "I wasn't exactly... healthy... When i was younger. Never was. Had no energy. Hardly any magic. I am pretty sure the doctors told my folks i wasn't even meant to survive for longer than a year... but I managed... until i was suposed to start puberty."

Geno frowns as he nods "It is when our magic and souls start to truly develop."

Dust nods "I don't.. I don't know exactly what was wrong. They never told me in details. I just know that suddenly it burned and hurt... turns out the magic that was starting to develop was kinda... burning my soul out. My soul was too weak to keep up wiht the growth it needed to help support me." He frowns "I remember many doctors and mages." them all prodding him and mentioning how it was a miracle he had even been alive as he had been. More interested in learning how his magic burned himself than anything. He thinks some of them even asked his parents if he could be a study case. "One of them had an idea... a complex web of spells to help center the magic or something and to use it to power my soul... That was at least how it was explained to me after i started to feel better."

Geno shoots upright "Wait! They didn't ask you?!"

Dust snorts "What could you expect? I was hardly awake as it was... Not like I could have given my agreement..." he shrugs "It saved my life..."

Reaper gently takes his hand and kisses it slowly. Dust can see how slow Reaper moves. Probably making sure his own magic doesn't react badly. "It is your soul love... Even if it saved your life it should still have been your choice. As it is your right."

Geno messes with his own hands "That is why... You didn't want to talk about your magic... it isn't a spell that is even meant to attack... It is your soul's whole support system... I am so sorry...." he looks away. ashamed "I know i apologised... before for pushing and everything... I am so sorry I was..." he laughs as he looks down shocked "Pretty much trying to force you to talk about your soul and show it to me? what the hell was wrong with me?"

Dust shrugs "You didn't know..." he tugs his soul back into his actual body and breaths a sigh of relieve.

Reaper frowns at him "Are you okay?"

Dust shrugs "I am fine... Just tired..." He gives a tired grin "It isn't just my suport system for my soul... My soul can't exactly make the magic and energy i need. It barely makes enough for my soul itself."

Geno stares in shock "Everythign... the spell pwoers everything about you? How..." he freezes and stops "Wait. Sorry. It isn't... it is interesting but you don't need to... I mean yes i want to know but." he glares down frustrated.

Reaper still holds his hand as he rubs the back of Dust's hand "I think what Geno means to ask is... How is it possible? How is the spell still there? In my experience spells don't last long. I know my magic is about momental protection. Not a constant force."

Dust looks at them for a moment. They don't... they don't stare at him like those mages and doctors. there is worry. but they also keep holding him. keep being near. They aren't afraid of him...

Dust figures if they haven't pulled away in disgust yet... All he risks now is his trust being betrayed which wouldn't be the first time.

Dust rubs his neck "From what i udnerstand... The weather powers it. Natural rain, hail, wind... actually everything connected to storms power it..."

Geno blinks in awe "Your storm... That is why you call it your storm and a cloud... because it is... wow..." he jsut continues to stare with open awe "It is powered by an outside constant force... adn that powers you..." he frowns "Should you be throwing lightning around then?"

Dust looks around confused "euh?"

Geno gives him a bit of a glare "I mean it. Is it even healthy for you to be throwing lightning around? Waht if you run out." more anxious and stress on his face.

Dust nods "It is fine... I before couldn't even pick when it happened. it just happened. At most i give it a target." he grins a tiny bit "there is a reason that Killer calls the spell i use 'fuck you lightning'... I don't exactly got a lot of other spells..."

Reaper chuckles and nuzzles Geno "Calm down love. trust him. He knows himself and his magic best. If he thinks it is fine it is fine."

Geno shoots Reaper a look but takes adeep rbeath and nods "right... right... sorry... i just... don't like how unpredictable it is. How will we know it will keep you safe and healthy if we aren't sure it will manage itself? That it will stop you from shooting to much lightning?" he rubs his hands "I also used to overuse my own magic. As magic rarely gives you a warning you are running out until you are almost completely out."

Dust just listens to the other. He... he isn't even asking about how he can control or replicate it. How he can use it. All geno is worried about is it somehow getting unbalanced...

The fear slowly disappears...

Which is when his body decides to make it very obvious it does not appreciate Dust removing his storm from his body. He yawns and feels his socket becoe heavier. Yeah. he expected as much.

Geno looks panicked as Reaper rubs his back "Are you alright?"

Dust shrugs as he rubs the sleep from his sockets "I am fine. Body doesn't appreciate me removing my soul for a long time. Just need to give it time to settle and calm down."

Reaper hums as he pulls Dust slowly against him "You can rest. thank you for trusting us with this love." a soft kiss to his skull as Dust lounges against Reaper. Reaper's clothes are always warm and brimmed with magic. reinforced to make sure Reaper's deadly magic doesn't get through if he is stressed. It makes for a very soft living pillow.

Geno meanwhile is muttering about maybe making a tiny sensor. Just to give Dust a warning signal in case his magic levels get dangerously low. Just as an extra warning and protection for him. Reaper chastises Geno gently but Dust isn't paying much attention.

He is exhausted. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. But it was worth it. Maybe he didn't have to be worried after all.

[miyukisu]

1 | Awaken, My Love .ᐟ

❤︎ | Ever since you two got together, he discovered some of the things that he's actually really really into ╰ feat. various blue lock characters x afab! reader

tags - both sfw and ns/fw headcanons (under the cut), mostly vanilla stuff, tit fucking, dirty talk, pussy eating

minors do not interact

You know that I love you // So let me into your heart

— movie nights Movies in general used to be boring for them. You sit down for 2 hours and then what? There were other forms of entertainment out there and they preferred that. However, once you invited them to watch a movie one night, they couldn't refuse. They sat down, albeit reluctantly, and found that the movie was only slightly interesting. But they did like how you cuddled with them under a blanket and how you would comment every minute on what was happening on screen. Movies are still unamusing, but you were more than enough to keep them awake.

Bachira, Barou, Otoya, Hiori, Sendou, Lorenzo, Nagi ❤︎

— public displays of affection It was cringey when they first thought about it. Wouldn't people judge you for being so touchy and lovey-dovey out in broad daylight? But then you started holding their arm while navigating through crowded places. It was fine; they wouldn't want you getting lost anyway. As time went on, they just found themselves reaching out to you on their own. They'll just surprise themselves one day that their arm's already around your waist or that they're already kissing your forehead when they see some other guy looking at you too much.

Barou, Chigiri, Rin, Sae, Karasu, Kaiser, Raichi, Kiyora ❤︎

— terms of endearment They found it a bit childish as if only younger couples were doing that. You had a name, they had a name—what's the point of coming up with something else to call out each other? As much as they tried, the petnames never rolled off their tongue well. It always left a weird aftertaste. But his whole outlook changed when he heard you utter it accidentally. As you apologized for the slip of the tongue, he was internally malfunctioning from how adorable and heartwarming it felt to be called by something other than their given name.

Nagi, Karasu, Barou, Ness, Kurona, Gagamaru, Niko ❤︎

Sleeping with the moon and the stars // I know where you've been

— tit fucking Sure, they understood the appeal. But why waste time on that when perfectly good pussy was right in front of them? Hell, even your mouth would do more wonders. But you like to surprise them—keep them on their toes and such. So after sucking him off, you thought it would be a great idea to put his aching cock between your breasts. He was annoyed by it at first, but soon as he felt the softness and silkiness of your flesh—he was smitten. It was a sensation never felt before and now... he craves for it.

Isagi, Kunigami, Rin, Oliver, Sae, Gagamaru, Raichi ❤︎

— dirty talk Truth be told, they're just really shy. They can't fathom the idea of spilling out such filthy words and hearing it for themselves. But there came a time when he couldn't help but blurt out the dirty thoughts running through his mind. It caused your pussy to wantonly clench down on him and it sent him to heaven. Maybe, just maybe, he'd consider throwing away his pride for a moment if it meant experiencing that feeling once more. Oh, but if you're doing the dirty talk, then he's all ears.

Isagi, Nagi, Reo, Karasu, Yukimiya, Hiori ❤︎

— pussy eating Before meeting you, they were fully convinced that they were a receiver through and through. Nothing beats a blowjob after a particularly stressful day. Or so they thought. But why was it oddly liberating to lap up your pussy like there was no tomorrow? They found it strange that this was somehow more arousing than receiving. They experience a reluctant change of heart. They're not ready to admit that maybe they're more of a giver... he'll settle on being a switch for now.

Bachira, Nagi, Rin, Otoya, Oliver, Kaiser, Lorenzo ❤︎

©kzyluvr do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note more headcanons for blue lock or a different fandom? hmmm...

[starsofang]

“No.”

“Oh, c’mon, Johnny. Please? Halloween only comes once a year.”

Johnny eyed you suspiciously, taking in the request you’d laid out on him, which in retrospect, was something he wouldn’t normally deny—he was a kinky guy. But wearing a mask to fuck you, when you could just look at him the whole time instead? Nuh-uh.

“Is this one of yer book things?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

You frowned at him, darting your eyes away. “No.”

“It totally is.”

“Okay, yes, it is, but I think it’d be hot! You don’t?” you tried once more, pleading.

Johnny snorted, shaking his head. “What’s not to enjoy about my face?”

“Your face is wonderful, Johnny.”

“…But?”

“You in a mask is sexy.”

Johnny groaned, throwing his head back and blinking up at the ceiling.

Really, the idea was growing on him. A mask, yeah, he could do that for you—might even find it hotter than he thought—but the deep rooted thought of a familiar mask popped up in the midst of it, tainting his mind.

He rolled his head lazily to look at you, narrowing in on the pout on your lips. It was always hard for him to deny you, especially anything sex-related you wanted to try. Hell, he was practically like a dog being thrown a bone at the opportunity.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he murmured, a sadistic grin curling on his face.

It was your turn to stare suspiciously, slowly deflating from your previous excitement and dying down to a curious hesitation. “That’s never good,” you muttered.

“Mm. I think ye might like it,” he replied cheekily, taking a step closer to you. His arm slipped easily around your waist to rest on your back, tugging you into his warmth. “Ye remember Ghost, don’t ye?”

“Ghost?” you breathed, shivering when you felt his lips tickle your ear and drift down to your neck. He hummed against your skin.

He wasn’t serious, right?

He was incredibly serious, unfortunately.

“Happy Halloween, love.”

You could barely peel your eyes open to look at Ghost, only humming a noise of acknowledgment as he got up to leave, Johnny walking him out.

As for you, you were suffering the severe consequences of their bound agreement, body limp and sedated in the comfort of your blankets that Johnny gifted you to boost the ‘Halloween spirit.’

Johnny gave you what you asked for with little struggle, granting you the sweet taste of fucking with a mask on. Ghost was there for encouragement, pulling out his old, trusty mask and sliding it on just for you.

Fucking into you until you were a weeping, blabbering mess to a masked Johnny wasn’t what you pictured when you initially asked the Scot about your fantasy, but all hesitation was quickly snipped from your mind the moment you got a sample of both of them, their eyes peering down at you like you were prey from the narrow slits of the holes cut out for their vision leaving you begging for more.

“Maybe for Christmas, we could be Santa and ye could be our li’l elf,” Johnny teased when he returned, sliding into bed. “‘Tis the gift of givin’ soon, aye?”

He only snickered loudly when that earned a sharp kick from you, hunkering down into bed on Hallow’s night, murmuring about how he wasn’t kiddin’. They definitely could, if ye want.

[bluejutdae]

• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Jisung x you

Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

genre: friends to lovers, romance

warnings: none

The guy is boring, misogynistic and keeps talking about his job like it’s the best thing in the world. He’s a banker, for fuck’s sake. How exciting can it be?

What did Hannie mean with “play along”? You smile thinking about your best friend. You have been friends for years now, and you’re convinced he’s your soulmate. Maybe he feels the same, but he’s unyielding in his idea of needing to be alone, to only focus on his career and not let romance distract him. You love him, but who are you to try to convince him he’s wrong? So you keep your feelings in line and don’t let them overflow.

“Oh, my love, please forgive me! I know I made a mistake but take me back!” A loud voice interrupts the umpteenth story about bankers. Jisung is in the restaurant now, hands clasping over his heart and his big boba eyes on you. “I can’t lose you, you’re the best thing in my life.”

Oh, so this is what he meant by “play along”?

“Sung”, you start. In a very dramatic manner, he interrupts you, a finger on your lips and unshed tears in his eyes.

“No, don’t talk. Hear me for a moment, I have to ask you this, even if it’s the last thing I get to say to you”.

You repress the instinct to roll your eyes. To your right you can hear a confused “what the fuck is happening?”. Jisung’s voice is loud again, tho, and he’s suddenly on his knee, looking up at you with a teary smile. “My love, would you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” He has a ring in his hand. Where the fuck did he find a ring? Does he go around with an engagement ring in his pockets? Well, this is your best friend. And he’s fucking crazy.

You almost throw the napkin on the plate and get on your knees in front of Jisung. “Yes, yes, of course!” The smile on your lips is one of amusement, but for everyone is the smile of a newly engaged girl.

A round of applause fills the room and soon there’s a chanting of ‘kiss, kiss, kiss’.

The thing is: Han didn’t think this through. Did he stop at a street vendor's stall to buy the prettiest (fake) ring for this? Yes. Did he plan this whole farce in his head to have fun? Also yes. Did he put his fingers in his eyes so he would tear up? Sadly, yes. Did he stop for a second thinking about the fact that newly engaged couples kiss? No.

Jisung looks at you with comically large eyes and his mouth slightly agape and you take pity on him. Suppressing your laughter, you cradle his face into your hand and kiss him. It’s just a simple peck: your lips on his soft, pretty lips; your hand covers the most of the kiss from the guy you had a date with, but it’s the least of your worries now.

It’s just a simple kiss, chaste and functional to the farce, but it’s something you’ve dreamt for a while. The minutes following are a blur in your mind: you left your share of money on the table, apologized quickly to your date and grabbed your coat, leaving the restaurant hand in hand with Jisung.

You’re running on the empty sidewalk, still holding hands, laughing loudly when it starts to snow. It’s so intense and so beautiful, you both go quiet and stop. You love the snow falling: it’s so peaceful and beautiful, the snowflakes dancing in the hair, light and frozen. Seen from the outside, you’re just another couple holding hands in the streets, looking at the snow falling. For a moment alone, you let yourself daydream.

You let yourself imagine it’s real, that you’re a couple holding hands and walking home where you’ll get cozy on the couch, under a blanket, to watch the snow from the window. You’ll kiss again, you’ll make love, you’ll live your lives together and you’ll love each other forever. God, you’re so dumb. Why are you hurting yourself like this, now? It was just a fake kiss.

“So… we kissed.” Han says in a low voice. You can sense he’s looking at you, but you’re not ready yet to look at him and break the calm bubble you created around yourself.

“It wasn’t a real kiss.” It can’t be. Otherwise you kissed your best friend, who you’re in love with, and if it’s true then you can already see the floodgates crack under the pressure.

“It was for me.” The air is cold and it’s freezing your nose, but the shock of his words makes you forget all that.

“Uh- what?”

“The kiss. It was real for me. I know it wasn’t a big kiss but it was real. And I’ve thought about kissing you millions of times but this time it wasn’t a dream and it was real and I don’t think I can go back to when we hadn’t kiss and I don’t wanna ruin our friendship but now I know how your lips feel on mine and-“ he stops and takes a deep breath, looking down at his shoes.

“I’m sorry. I- I don’t really know what to say.”

“Do you really think it wasn't a real kiss? Does it… does it really mean nothing to you?” He asks, and you’re not sure why but you can feel your heart aching. Why does it feel like you’re rejecting him? He’s the one who doesn’t want a relationship, he’s the one who banned love from his life. And you tell him so.

“You said there was no place for anything that wasn’t work in your life.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

He turns completely towards you and you can barely see the redness on his round cheeks, but it’s there. “Before you kissed me and suddenly I realized how stupid I’ve been all this time. I know you’re the perfect girl for me, but I was too convinced I couldn’t handle a relationship. But why do I have to deprive myself of something I know would be good?”

“Don’t do that, Hannie. Don’t say this if you’re gonna change your mind later. You’ve repeated the same thing for years, and now suddenly you want more?” You can endure the idea of just being friends even if you’re in love with him, but you won’t let yourself get too hurt. And you’ll get hurt if he wants something now that he’ll change his mind about later.

“I’ve always wanted more. But I didn’t realize exactly how much I was giving up!”

“Tomorrow, you’ll change your mind.”

“I won’t.” Jisung lounges and grabs your hand. When did you let go of each other’s hand?

“You say that now, but tomorrow or in a week, you’ll be tired and stressed over work and you’ll decide you don’t want another commitment…” You feel like an asshole, but you’re just trying to protect yourself from an even worse heartbreak. His face shifts, and you remember that it’s your best friend the one you’re talking to, that no matter what he’ll always love and protect you from harm.

“Do you trust me?” You nod, fingers squeezing his.

“Then trust me I won’t change my mind. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” You bite the inside of your cheek, considering his words.

“I want more. I want to be able to kiss you everyday, I want to be able to call you my girlfriend. I want to be by your side on the days I’m stressed and on those I’m happy. I want to be by your side anytime you’ll let me.”

“Promise me you won’t regret it.” How can you say no to him? You’re scared he’ll break your heart, but it’s true he never broke a promise.

“I won’t regret it.” Again, it’s you who kisses him. This kiss is nothing like the previous: it’s hot and his lips are immediately moving under yours. You can feel his breath on your lips and it’s a heady feeling and you want more and more and more.

You want to know what he tastes like and how his tongue feels on yours, so you’re quick to prod at his lips, demanding entrance and licking into his mouth. The sounds Jisung makes are the best sounds you’ve ever heard, and all your worries dissipate.

Kissing your best friend under the snow wasn’t how you expected the night to go, but you’re not gonna complain…

[sceletaflores]

working it out (on the remix)

pairing: art donaldson x patrick zweig x fem!reader summary: you sit in the angry silence, gears slowly turning in your head as you look between your boys. you should have known that this wasn't going to work, clearly just talking isn’t going to get the three of you anywhere.

—or: three tennis players walk into a hotel room.

word count: 5.5k contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, smoking, fighting as foreplay, mean!reader my beloved, the patrick and art gay agenda, threesome, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all!), not quite hate sex more like angry sex, double penetration, oral sex (m!receiving), choking, finger sucking, degradation, creampies, lowkey sub!patrick coded, switch!art ofc, porn with a plot, no use of y/n. author’s note: oh em gee part three is here!!! i literally always say this but i had so much fun writing this one lol thank you so much for showing this series so much love right off the bat! i've loved loved loved reading all the ideas you guys have sent me for future chapters and trust when i say that i'll definitely be featuring as many as i can. okay bye! hope you love it! xoxo mwah.

tftw series masterlist!

Art is fuming. You keep glancing over at him to check that smoke isn't starting to blow out of his ears. It doesn't, but he's just as mad every time. Standing in the doorway huffing and puffing, arms crossed over his chest as he stares Patrick down from across the room. 

Patrick is the complete opposite, all relaxed body language and easy half-smiles as he coolly stares back. You’d make a fire and ice joke if you didn’t think it would send Art over the edge.

He’s sitting in the room’s single chair, window cracked open so he can smoke. He’s practically naked, wearing an unbuttoned long sleeve and the tiniest boxers you’ve ever seen. His bare feet are propped up on the corner of the bed you’re sitting on. 

You’re perched cross legged on the mattress, basically stuck in the middle of them.

You’re still surprised you even got Art to show up at all. You thought he almost flipped the table when you brought up Patrick at lunch, casually mentioning that you’ve been texting him for the past couple of days and you think the three of you need to talk. He was quiet for a long time before he finally asked if that meant Patrick was, has been, in town. You just shook your head yes.

You didn’t tell him you and Patrick slept together, you didn’t need to.

He went quiet again, stood up from his chair with an excuse of being late to class and stomped out of the dining hall. You texted him the address to Patrick’s hotel an hour later.

Art never responded, but his jeep was still waiting for you outside the biology building after your last lecture got out. He would always drive you back to your dorm since you’d get out so late, but this time he turned out of the campus lot and silently drove until you realized he was going to the hotel.

Now you’re here, and it's been almost ten minutes since you knocked on the door to Patrick’s room. And no one has said anything the entire time. No one has even moved, only Patrick every so often when he needs to flick his ashes out the window. A thick blanket of tense silence falls heavy over the three of you. It makes the room’s temperature feel that much hotter. The shitty air conditioner hums faintly in the background.

“So,” you say slowly, voice finally piercing through the quiet, “Am I gonna have to be the first to talk again or–”

“God, I don’t know,” Art cuts in tersely, not looking away from Patrick as he does, ”I can’t believe I don’t have anything to say to the guy that fucked my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Both you and Patrick ask sharply, opposing tones of shock and amusement blending together.

Art's eyes narrow, a storm brewing in the blue of them. He’s still looking at Patrick, talking about you like you’re not sitting right in front of him. "Yeah, my girlfriend. Did I stutter?" His chest is puffed out just enough for you to notice, his mouth pulled down at the corners in a deep frown.

You blink, caught off guard. Art’s never asked you to go steady with him, you’ve never even been on a date. Unless you count fucking in the back of his jeep at a drive in theater a date, then sure, you’ve been on one date. Regardless, the possessive timbre of his voice has something warm simmering under your skin.

Patrick laughs, loud and abrasive. “Well, this is fucking news to me,” he says through a chuckle, eyes flicking between the two of you bemusedly, “I didn’t realize you guys were playing house, but that does makes a lot more sense now.” He gestures to your chest with his free hand, pointing out the dark blue sweatshirt you’re wearing.

‘Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy’ is stitched across the front in thin black thread; you'd stolen it from Art’s closet when you slept over at his dorm a few nights ago. He never asked for it back.

“It’s cute that you kept my shirt, Donaldson.” Patrick teases, lolling his head to the side lazily so he can look at Art through his lashes. A plume of smoke billows from between his lips, slipping through the open window slowly. “Even after you tried to turn my girlfriend against me and fucked her behind my back first–”

“Fuck you, Patrick–” Art starts, face twisted in a scowl. His hands ball into fists at his side, jaw ticking with anger.

Patrick doesn’t look deterred, leaning forward in his chair as he tries to talk over Art, “You’re such a fucking hypocrite–”

“I’m not anyone’s girlfriend,” you cut them both off, brows drawn together in frustration, “—and I’m not going to let this turn into some weird pissing contest between you two. We’re here to talk.”

Art scoffs agitatedly, casting his eyes to the ceiling. “Looks like the two of you have done plenty of talking without me,” he says bitterly. “Do you get off on this shit or something? On sticking your dick where it doesn’t fucking belong?”

Patrick smirks, leaning back in his chair, arms draped lazily over the armrests. “God, you really do think you’re innocent in this,” he laughs incredulously, leaning back in his chair. “You’re acting like you’ve got some moral high ground, but you don’t. You’re just as guilty of playing the game as I am.”

Art’s face darkens further, anger threatening to boil over. “This isn’t a game to me, Patrick,” he spits, tone hard and low, “I’m so sick of you treating everything like a goddamn joke.”

Patrick’s smirk doesn’t falter. “I never said it was a joke,” he says with a shrug, tone easy and nonchalant. “I’m just saying, maybe you should take a good look in the mirror before you start pointing fucking fingers. I’m not the only one who’s played dirty here.”

“Patrick–” you warn, sitting up straighter. You can feel the way the air changes, the way the animosity gets turned up. The last thing you need is for them to start throwing punches.

Art cuts you off, shaking his head in contempt. “You’re so full of shit. You don’t fucking care about her. You never did. You just want to win, because you can’t stand the thought of losing to me.”

Patrick groans loudly, throwing his head back with it. “We’re really going back to this again? Jesus Christ, give it up man. It’s not like she was ever really yours to begin with.” He takes another slow drag from his cigarette, eyes never leaving Art.

The jab hits its mark, you can see it on Art’s face. In the way he physically recoils, the way he takes a ragged breath through his nose, the way the muscles of his jaw work furiously. For the first time since you fucked Patrick, you feel like a fucking bitch. The familiar feeling of guilt wraps its tendrils around you, weighing you down into the mattress like a physical force.

It gives you an idea, the guilt. It's a filthy idea, one that has heat stirring between your legs at just the thought. It’s a good way to make this whole situation up to Art, a good way to let him get under Patrick’s skin the same way he’s getting under his.

You sit in the angry silence, gears slowly turning in your head as you look between your boys. You should have known that this wasn't going to work, clearly just talking isn’t getting the three of you anywhere.

You sigh, overly dramatic and long suffering, scooting down until your legs are hanging over the edge of the mattress. Art and Patrick watch you the entire time, eyes finally leaving each other to watch your hands settle on the hem of Patrick’s sweatshirt.

“You guys are being so difficult. Why did I think that you could behave enough to talk this out like big boys?” You tug it off in one swift move, tossing it to the side carelessly. Two sharp gasps ring out, two sets of greedy eyes roam the bare expanse of your torso. You hadn’t worn a bra today.

You smirk, standing from the mattress and hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your sweats. You push them down your legs slowly, making a show of it until you're only in the pair of light purple panties you slipped on this morning. Patrick smirks, flicking his cigarette butt out the window and yanking it closed. He goes to stand, Art pointedly takes a single threatening step forward as he does but you stop both of them in their tracks. 

“No.” Your voice rings through the small room, loud and commanding. Patrick sits back down almost immediately, his brow raising in confusion. Art does the same, freezing with one foot in front of him. They’re both hard, cocks tenting the fabric of their bottoms. Their boners point towards each other, you bite your lip to hide your smile. 

“You’ve been so bad, Ricky.” you scold softly, voice syrupy sweet as you lean back on the bed. “Dressed up like an easy whore in here waiting for us, being so mean to Art, fucking his girl…” You trail off boredly, palms braced flat on the bed behind you so you can lean back as casually as you can muster. You let your legs fall open, spread enough to let Patrick and Art see the wet spot slowly seeping into the fabric.

You can hear Art’s sharp inhale from across the room at your words, his girl. You’re still careful not to say girlfriend, that’s a whole other talk. Patrick squirms in his chair, practically itching with the need to say something. You level him with a hard look, a firm shake of your head keeps him quiet. When you finally turn your attention to Art, he meets your gaze easily, eyes already blown out and glassy. Even from here you can see the way his pupils swallow the pretty blue color.

You smile, lips curling up in a wicked smile. “Art,” you coo softly, reaching your hand out in offering, “come here.” 

Art’s walking towards you without a second thought, crossing the room in just a few large steps. You smile at him, patting the spot next to you. The bed creaks as he sits down, the mattress dipping under his weight slides you closer to him. ”I think,” you say slowly, resting your hand high up on his thigh, so close to the hard line of his cock straining against the fabric, “that we need to teach Patrick a lesson on manners.”

“What! No fucking way, that’s bullshi–” Patrick fusses from the corner, sitting up straighter in seat, the armrest gripped tight in his left hand.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap, whipping your head to the side to glare at him. “This isn’t about you.”

He frowns, pushing out his bottom lip like an actual child. You just barely fight the urge to roll your eyes, an evil smile spreading across your face as you watch him honest-to-God pout.

“This is about Art,” you slide your hand up higher, cupping him through his loose shorts. You can hear his sharp intake of breath, a quiet ‘fuck’ falls from his lips as you apply more pressure to where your hand is steadily rubbing him up and down. “Plus, you’re already in the cuck chair,” you aren’t able to stop the small chuckle that falls from your lips, “you’ve got a perfect view.”

His pink lips part ever so slightly, eyes going wide and hungry at your words. You throw him one last devilish smile before you’re sinking to your knees in front of the bed. The scratchy carpet digs into your knees but you don’t care, not when Art is towering in front of you with the ceiling lights shining around him like he’s an angel.

You smile up at him, dragging the palms of your hands up and down his thighs. “Take your shirt off,” you encourage, slipping your hands up to toy with the hem of his shorts.

He complies beautifully, pulling his shirt up and over his head and tossing it aside, revealing the lean, toned muscles of his torso. You let your eyes linger on him for a moment, appreciating the sight before returning your attention to your task. Your fingers deftly undo the drawstring of his shorts, and start tugging them down. Art lifts his hips enough for you to drag them all the way down his legs, taking his boxers with them to free his hard cock.

Again, you slide your hands up the bare skin of his thighs, inches away from where he wants them. He’s so hard, cock standing straight up in an angry red line against his stomach. The tip drools pre-cum that leaks down the length of him slowly.

Art's breath hitches, his eyes locked onto you with a mix of anticipation and desperation. Your fingers brush lightly over his upper thighs, before you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, feeling the heat of his arousal pulse against your palm. His gasp is sharp, and you silently revel in the power you hold over him in this moment.

You glance over at Patrick, who is staring wide-eyed, his earlier irritation replaced with a raw, unfiltered hunger.

Your lips curl into a smug smile at the sight of his flushed cheeks and the way his chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. “See something you like, Patrick?” you taunt, giving Art a slow, deliberate stroke that has him groaning softly. Patrick’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenching, but he stays silent, his gaze locked on the two of you.

Art's hands grip the sheets beneath him, his knuckles turning white. "Fuck," he breathes out, his voice strained, "you're killing me."

You laugh softly, a dark, melodic sound, and lean forward, letting your tongue flick out to taste the bead of precum at the tip of his cock. Art moans, the sound vibrating through you. You glance up at him through your lashes, seeing the way his head tilts back, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure.

You slide your lips up the length of his leaking cock, teasing and slow. Art stares down at you, not breaking eye contact as he breathes raggedly through his nose.

“Tell him how it feels,” you whisper against the pink tip of his cock, sliding it back and forth across your lips teasingly. Art swallows hard, skin flushing in embarrassment.

“So good…” he whispers, eyes still locked onto yours. His blush goes from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, spreading pink and warm across the strong muscle of his pecs.

You smile, shaking your head softly. “Don’t tell me, tell him.” You jerk your head in Patrick’s direction once before you sink down until your nose is nestled against the soft blonde hair at the base of his cock, working your throat around the length of him. 

Art moans loudly, his hands coming up to tangle into your hair. You keep going, fighting his grip on you as you start to bob your head over his cock in a steady rhythm, working your hand in time with your mouth.

He forces himself to look at Patrick, catching his eyes.

Patrick looks fucked, lips slick and dropped open as he stares back Art, hungry gaze not wavering. His cock is still hard, pressed against the seam of his boxers and leaking a steady patch of wetness around the head. 

A silent challenge seems to pass between the two of them.

We doing this or what?

Art refuses to back down, hardening his resolve. “Feels so fucking good,” he groans, not looking away from Patrick, “her throat’s so tight, so– God, it’s so good. Best I’ve ever had.”

He’s rambling, not even making any sense but you hum in approval all the same, your tongue curling around the crown. Patrick doesn’t look like he minds too much either, pink tongue coming out to swipe along his bottom lip. "Please," he whispers, almost too quiet to hear. "Let me..."

You pull off Art with a wet pop, turning your head as best you can with his hand still tangled in your hair to fix Patrick with a steely gaze. "You don't get to make requests," you say, your voice hard. "You get to watch and learn."

Patrick's eyes darken, his lips pressing into a thin line, but he doesn't protest. Art lets out a low growl, his hand tightening its grip on your hair and dragging your mouth back to his cock.

“Stop fucking talking to him,” he demands, hips thrusting to fuck back into your mouth. You choke on the sudden fullness, wetness floods your panties as you moan around him.

Yes, you think, eyes squeezing close as you force your throat to relax around his cock, this is what I wanted.

You were waiting to see how long it’d take Art to snap, he lasted longer than you thought he would. The head of his cock punches against the soft, spongy part at the back of your throat. You fight to not gag around him, hands scrambling for purchase on his thighs. His balls slap against your chin roughly, sticking wetly to the drool that's starting to fall from the corners of your lips.

Art meets Patrick’s eye again, a smug smirk on his face as he jerks his head in a clear invitation, “Come here.” He grunts simply, dragging you up and down the length of his cock by his tight grip on your hair.

Patrick practically sprints from the chair, ripping his shirt off while he tries to kick his boxers off before he reaches the bed. He sits next to Art, chest heaving as he stares down at where your lips stretched obscenely over his best friend's cock. 

Art pulls you off by your hair, holding your face a few inches away from his spit covered cock. He tuts at you sympathetically, tilting his head to the side with a tiny frown at the sight of you all teary eyed. “Bet you feel real empty, right?” he asks sadly, shaking your head back and forth like a dog. “That greedy pussy wants our cocks stretching her open, doesn't she?”

You whine loudly, nodding your head as best you can as the meaning of Art’s words sink over you. You feel far away, like you’ve already been fucked six ways to Sunday. You cunt clenches around nothing, aching for Art and Patrick’s cocks bullying their way inside you. You’ve never done anything like that before, taken two guys at once, but God do you need it.

Art nods back, brows pulled together in faux pity. “Pat and I will help baby,” he says sweetly, “You just gotta get nice and stretched out first, need to fuck yourself open on Patrick’s cock so you can take us.”

“Fuck yeah,” Patrick breathes, already moving up the bed to lay flat on his back agasint the pillows. His cock sticking straight out from his body, pointing to the ceiling desperately.

Art lets go of your hair, cupping the side of your face tenderly. His thumb rubs against the soft skin of your cheekbone a few times, you know it’s a question. 

Do you want this?

You smile, nuzzling his palm and giving his thumb a playful nip. The answer to his question written all over your face.

Fuck yes.

Art smiles back, nodding his head once. You take the hint, rising from your knees to climb onto the mattress. You slide your panties off, tossing them aside as you crawl up the length of Patrick’s body, straddling his hips and wasting no time in sinking down on his cock.

Art settles next to the two of you, hand loosely gripped around his cock as he starts to lazily stroke himself to the sight of you and Patrick.

“Fuck!” Patrick hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips fiercely as you start to ride him, not giving either of you anytime to adjust. The stretch burns, the lack of prepping before hand makes it sting. You don’t mind, too worked up to care. 

“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” He tries, but you cut him off bringing your free hand to wrap around the column of his throat just like he did to you back in the shower.

“You’re the slut,” you growl, fingers digging into his skin roughly. His eyes widen, plush lips going slack. You speed your hips up, the loud smack each time you drop down onto him echoes through the room. “You’re the easy fucking whore that soaked your panties watching your best friend fuck my throat."

Art huffs out a breath, hand slipping over his cock faster as he watches you ride Patrick. His eyes are trained on the way your hand is wrapped against Patrick’s throat. He slips his free hand down, pressing two fingers against Patrick’s cock so you slide down onto them on the next bounce.

“Fuck!” You keen loudly, grip tightening on Patrick’s throat. Art’s fingers add to the sting of your cunt, but your hips don’t stop moving, even as he slips in a third just as fast.

You get lost in it, in the feeling of Patrick’s dick fucking into you so deeply you swear he’s hitting your cervix with every roll of your hips, Art’s fingers stretching you that much wider.

Suddenly, Art drops his cock so his free hand can latch onto your hips, his strong grip forcing you to stop your desperate bouncing. His fingers slip out of you, you immediately miss the stretch.

Patrick groans in displeasure, his hips buck up like he’s trying to slide back into the warmth of your fucked open cunt. His leaking head bumps against your sensitive clit a few times before Art’s dropping his hand down, gripping Patrick’s cock to line it up with his own.

Art slides up behind you, his sweaty chest pressing firmly against your back. “Should be stretched out enough,” He whispers into the nape of your neck, pressing both tips against your fluttering hole.

The shock of it has your hand slipping off Patrick’s throat to anchor onto his shoulders in a feeble attempt to brace yourself. He sucks in large gasps of air, chest heaving as he stares down to where his cock is pressed snug against Art’s, his hand big enough to almost wrap around them both. He throws his head back against the pillows, eyes screwed shut, “Fuck, I can’t watch,” he gasps, voice low and ragged. 

Art laughs smugly, but it’s breathy around the edges and you can feel the way his hand shakes on your hip. “Close already, Pat?” He asks condescendingly, as his fingers dig in a little tighter. “You’re not even doing any of the work.”  

You try to focus on the sensation of Art’s grip, but your mind is a haze of overstimulation and the throb of Patrick’s cock against you. Art’s mocking tone sends a shiver down your spine, making you acutely aware of how close you are to the edge yourself. Your greedy cunt clenches around them, trying to suck them in you.

Patrick’s breath stutters, his hips jerking up involuntarily, making a strangled noise that’s half-groan, half-whimper. “Fuck you, man,” he manages to grind out, but his voice is trembling and strained, the bite in his tone gets undercut by how wrecked he sounds. You can feel the barely there twitches of his hips, like he’s physically pained from having to wait any longer.

A sharp cry rips from your throat as they finally start to slide in, both heads popping into your tight hole all at once. Your eyes screw shut at the stretch, thighs shaking where they’re spread over Patrick’s hips.

“Someone kiss me,” you gasp desperately, chin lowering to your chest. Art’s moving before the words finish leaving your mouth, gripping a fistful of Patrick’s hair and dragging him up to your lips. You whine into his mouth, letting his tongue slide between your lips to claim your mouth.

The familiar feeling of his lips on yours relaxes you the tiniest bit, letting Art lower you down a few more inches. It feels like hours as you sink onto them, Art’s big hands gently massaging your hips while Patrick’s greedy fingers pull and paw at your thighs.

It’s the quietest you’ve ever heard Patrick. His lips going slack in awe against yours as Art’s cock slides up next to his, moaning into your mouth when your hips go flush with his.

They feel so huge inside you, so thick you swear you can feel them in your stomach. Bullying your insides into making more room for the both of them.

“Fuck," you gasp, nails digging little crescent moons into Patrick’s shoulders. Every inch of you is alive with sensation, a burning mix of pleasure and pain. Art’s breath is hot and ragged against your ear, whispering sweet encouragements, “It’s okay baby, you’re okay, taking us so fucking good–” 

You nod, slowly starting to grind your hips back and forth, gasping when they rub up against the soft spot inside of you that has you clenching in pleasure– practically choking them off at the base. A high moan falls from your lips, hips swirling the tiniest bit faster that have both Art and Patrick growl out matching groans of approval.

“Just like that,” Art whispers into your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “Gonna make him come first, or are you gonna beat him to it?” The challenge in his voice sends a jolt of heat through you, your thighs starting to shake with every pass of them over that spot.

“God, ah! Art– fuck, mh, Patrick–” You slur, head already starting to go fuzzy

“Fuck,” Art gasps out your name sharply, pushing you down onto Patrick’s chest so he can start fucking into your loose, sloppy cunt. “God, you’re so fucking tight,” his hand grips the back of your neck to pin you down, throwing all his strength behind the snap of his hips.

“Shit, look at you,” Patrick chuckles weakly pinching your hips hard, trying to seem less affected than he really is. “You’re so fucking gone. All that attitude needs is some dick to fix it, huh?”

You crack your eyes open, blearily searching until you zero in on his face. He’s smiling smugly, eyes blown out and hazy.

“Shut the fuck up,” you spit weakly, raising your hand to shove your index and middle finger between his parted lips. You push back far enough to feel his throat constricting against your fingers, letting him gag on you. Your eyes trace the side of his face, down the slope of his nose to where his cherry red lips are lewdly spread around your fingers. 

You can distantly hear Art groan behind you, his hips speeding up impossibly faster. His hand squeezes your neck, fingers digging into your sensitive skin meanly. You hook your fingers behind Patrick’s teeth, dragging his face to the side to meet your eye. Patrick moans around your fingers, gazing at you pleading through half lidded eyes. Drool leaks from the corners of his mouth and down his chin, drenching your wrist. His hot, wet tongue sliding along the pads of your fingers feels scalding.

Patrick's hands are everywhere, pulling, pinching, caressing, his touch a maddening mix of rough and tender. The feeling of him inside you, alongside Art, is almost too much to bear, making you gasp for breath. Your moans are a symphony of pleasure and desperation, each one a plea for more, more, more the closer you get the edge.

“Shit, ah, Art, ah!” Your feet scrabbled uselessly against the sheets, the fingers of your free hand twist Patrick’s hair roughly. “I’m gonna come— Mm, ah! I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” Art goads, the rhythm of his hips not faltering, “Come on baby– fuck yeah– fucking soak these dicks–”

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you come, your vision whites out around you as the entire world shrinks down to the stretch of your gushing cunt around Art and Patrick. The slight burn of them, the fullness, the unrelenting pace of Art’s hips stinging the skin of your ass on each thrust. 

Patrick bites down on your fingers with a broken whine just as Art sinks his teeth into your neck, both of them groaning so loud it’s all you can hear. That and the faulty rhythm of Art’s hips snapping against the meat of your ass in loud ‘cracks’. 

They come together, and you can feel it.

You can feel every twitch and jerk of their cocks inside you as they spray the walls of your cunt with their releases. Spurt after spurt of hot come claiming you as theirs, filling you to the brim. Art doesn’t stop, working the three of you through your orgasms. Each thrust fucks more of their come out of you, the lewd squelch of it leaking from of your loose hole to gather around the base of their cocks in two matching creamy rings makes your ears burn.

Just as it gets to be too much, when the pleasure starts to give way into biting overstimulation, Art stops. You’re slumped against Patrick, shaking like a leaf when Art starts to pull out as gently as he can. You hiss when the head of his cock slips out, thighs clenching together.

“Sorry,” he whispers sweetly, giving your shoulder a gentle kiss. He practically man handles you off of Patrick’s cock, lifting your hips up and off of him.

Patrick groans, stomach twitching in oversensitivity as your slick walls slide against his spent dick. Finally he slips out, his drenched cock falling to slap onto his stomach. There come rushes out of you, dripping sticky and thick down your inner thighs. 

There’s sweat dripping down your temple when you fall onto the mattress, your back sticks to the sheets but you’re too out of it to care. Art collapses next to you, sandwiching you between him and Patrick. The three of you are quiet, chests heaving as you catch your breath. Patrick’s hairy thigh is pressed to yours, firm and toned. Art’s got an arm slung over your waist, his breath puffs hot against your neck.

“It doesn’t have to be one or the other,” you say breathlessly, voice raspy and hoarse. “It could work. We could make it work, the three of us.”

Art and Patrick are quiet, their silence heavy with contemplation. You keep your eyes trained on the ceiling, more nervous bringing this up than you thought you’d be. The room is filled with the sounds of your collective breaths, mingling with the lingering scent of sweat and sex.

Patrick chuckles, you can feel his curls brushing against your shoulder as he shakes his head in dry amusement. "Yeah, because everything about this screams 'healthy relationship,'" he quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Art lets out a soft, exasperated sigh, his grip on your waist tightening just a little. "We don't have to decide anything right now," he says, his voice low and steady. "Let's just...see where this goes."

You feel a rush of relief at his words, but Patrick’s hesitancy still gnaws at the edges of your mind. Patrick shifts beside you, his hand skirting lightly over your arm in a rare moment of tenderness.

"Guess we're in uncharted territory, huh?" he murmurs, his tone uncharacteristically serious. 

You laugh, finally daring to glance at both of them, a tentative smile forming on your lips. "Yeah, but maybe that's not such a bad thing."

Art and Patrick look back at you with matching grins wide enough to show their teeth, blonde and black hair fanning around their faces like halo’s under the room’s shitty fluorescent light. Your heart swells under the intense stare of two pairs of eyes, one blue and one green. You can feel the room start to fade away until it’s just the three of you and nothing else seems to matter.

Art leans down, giving your right shoulder a quick kiss. “If we’re doing this, we have to be honest with each other.” He looks between you and Patrick pointedly, but he’s still smiling. “No more bullshit games.”

Patrick snorts, letting his head fall back onto the pillows, “Yes sir.” 

You nod, not bothering to hide your smile. "No bullshit, no games," you agree, moving to squeeze Art's hand. He squeezes back in a silent promise.

The three of you lie there in a comfortable silence, the weight of your decision settling over you. It's definitely not going to be easy, but maybe, just maybe, it could work.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[tame-the-lion-writes]

fae(?) bunny shifter reader x konig

I love it when konig calls reader haschen (and forgive me for not using accents on letters--I don't know how to add them on my computer). Hence why I love the idea of reader being a literal bunny (and yes--this is inspired by that one manwha I forgot the name of, but disregard that!)

There's really no sane explanation as to how Konig ended up with you in his bed. And I don't mean in a sexual way though it is hard to keep his eyes off you considering the fact that you're stark naked. As far as he knows, Konig hadn't drunk that night. Definitely didn't take any drugs. All he did was scoop up that rabbit that's been begging for food on his back porch, after he'd made friends through edible offerings. (Otherwise, the tiny rascal would be digging up his garden again.) Let it--her?--snuggle close into his side on a particularly cold night, when the first snow began to fall.

Then he blinks, and the girl is gone--replaced once again by that fluffy little thing.

Konig panics for a half second, wrenches the blankets from his bed. As if a whole human being could hide under already-flattened sheets. Once he realizes you're not there, though, he once again takes the bunny in his ginormous hands and continues to stare. Because what the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.

Over the next few days, he doesn't dare keep the rabbit in a cage, or kick it out again. He just observes it intently like one would waiting for water to boil. But nothing ever happens when he's ready for it--the girl appears only when his back is turned, when he's exhausted. When he's blinking away sleep in the morning light. There in a flash, and gone again. He genuinely thinks he's going crazy, especially when food starts piling up in random places. The closet. Between the couch cushions. Food too big and too much for a mere bunny to move. But surely that's impossible. He's never taken to folklore or spells or--

Then he installs a camera.

"She is magic!" he once yelled, shoving the bunny in a visiting soldier's face. Meanwhile the rabbit's nose just twitches, innocent and seemingly oblivious. All he gets is a weird stare.

"Sir, I think you need to see a doctor--"

"Magic!!!"

_

Bonus Thoughts:

You're not even a stray. Not even wild. You have a cottage a little further into the woods, but your human neighbor's been awfully generous despite having caught you stealing a few times. Whatever. Free food is great. Free anything is great. Not to mention the TV and microwave, and other gadgets you've never seen before. Hence not realizing what the hell a camera does, and why he's now extra manic after he installed one in his room.

Speaking of benefits, you also no longer have to get your steps in. He carries you around in his pocket wherever he goes. So now you get to see the world, too--the farmer's market, the gas station, etc. And when you seem particularly interested in something, he buys it right away. Now you've got a little corner of trinkets from your mini-travels, all for you.

Oh, and lots of chin scratches. Pat pats. Naps in his lap because you fit there so perfectly.

Will he ever see you--live--in your human form for more than .5 seconds? Maybe. Maybe it happens in the middle of the night, when he wakes up to a weight on his chest, and your hair sprawled across his shirt. Maybe it happens, and you just give him a slow, sleepy blink, and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. Maybe he's yours now, and he hasn't realized it.

His bunny. Your man.

[squinch-depraved]

idea: schlatt and you trying some special sex chocolate and accidentally take way more than you mean to and the effects r starting to take place 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

-🐏 anon

oh this is yuMMy. delicious. scrumptious, even. thank u to 🐏 anon for being my first ever ask ily mwah i hope this is good i've never used these chocolates before but i might have to 🫣

coming home from a long day to your boyfriend's empty apartment was not what you were hoping for. you were hoping to come home to him watching something on the tv, rotting on the couch in his usual comfy clothes, playing with his two sweet cats, and just waiting for you to get home. in your mind, he would have sprung up to greet you the second the door opened, gliding through the apartment to place a tender kiss on your lips as he picks you up and twirls you around. but the unnerving silence you actually did come home to rips you from your daydream before he can place you back down on the ground and gush about how much he missed you. the cats finally skitter up to you, meowing and trilling in a way that lets you know they're absolutely starved for attention (he's been gone maybe 20 minutes, probably). cooing at the sweet babies as they butt their heads into your legs, you pet them and settle in for the night.

after having changed into one of his shirts and deciding pants weren't worth the effort, you stumble into the kitchen to grab a snack. lucky you, your perfect boyfriend had left a plain gold box of 12 wrapped chocolates on the counter! no labels, other than a little logo in the corner, but a small note was stuck onto the top of the box, reading: "take ONE - be back soon toots" along with a heart. you sigh contentedly and tear into the box. you hadn't had much time to eat today, and you were sure your boyfriend who loved to spoil you would be fine with you having more than the allotted amount of mysterious chocolates. what's the worst that could happen, they're edibles? at least then you'll have a story to contend with ted's!

the first chocolate melts on your tongue, leaving an almost rosy flavor behind that you can't quite get enough of. you debate if this'll be worth the punishment, but the chocolate was impossibly good, so you decide to go in for one two three more before dancing yourself down the hallway and into your shared bedroom. feeling slightly warm, you lay down in the middle of your bed and put some random video on the tv, dozing off a few minutes later. your job was exhausting, he'll get the hint you're sleeping and come find you when he gets home to a silent apartment. see how he likes it.

but he doesn't come home to a silent apartment. whimpers and moans bounce off the walls, echoing down the hall from your bedroom's open door. his eyes immediately dart to the little gold box on the counter, eyebrows shooting up in an oh, fuck motion when he sees the four wrappers littering the surface. he quickly drops his stuff where it needs to go and pops two chocolates in his mouth himself, figuring he'll need help keeping up with you after how many you've had, before quickly walking to the bedroom. the sight that awaits him leaves him standing in the doorway for a while until he finally decides to wake you up.

you lay there, babbling in your sleep, random phrases about how good something feels and how close you were. mostly incoherent horny gibberish. your (his) shirt has ridden up a bit, panties visible and soaked as you writhe unconsciously, desperately trying to get friction from a pillow, the blanket, something, anything. it makes him smirk, and he watches you for a moment before sitting down and gently stroking your cheek.

"y/n," you hear. "doll, c'mon, i gotta take care of you." you slowly come to, and once you process that he's here, he's back, you jump him. pulling him down to kiss you before attacking his neck with little nibbles until he pulls away, a stern (yet amused) look on his face. "i told you one. ONE. piece of chocolate."

you hide your face in your hands. "what the fuck did you do to me, j?? i thought maybe they were edibles or something, but this doesn't feel like a normal high? i'm sorry, i know i shouldn't have eaten them now but oh my god, what did you DO to me? i feel like a feral, ovulating, cavewoman or some shit!!" you whine, earning a laugh from him.

"they're sex chocolates."

you move your hands and look at him. "sex chocolates," you repeat.

he nods.

"why the fuck wouldn't you say that??" you smack his arm.

he grins and replies, "thought the mystery would be sexy."

"i mean, inadvertently, yeah!" you sigh, amused and frustrated all at the same time.

he strokes your hair and kisses your forehead. "i took two to keep up with you," he breathes into your ear.

you hook your legs around him and pull him as close to you as you can. "then let's go! c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," you pant as you grind up against him, groans spilling from his lips. "fuck me! touch me! something, j, please, i'm begging you," you plead, kissing him frantically all over his chest and neck. hands exploring under his sweater and dragging nails down his back, arching your back and moaning without him having to even do anything, he swears he's never been this hard.

the first time you cum, it's from his head between your thighs, tongue lapping at your clit and sopping pussy like a man deprived of water for days. he keeps going until you're crying, begging him for another kind of stimulation besides his thick fingers ramming in and out of you and his chops brushing against your purple-marked thighs. the second time you cum is also from his masterful mouth, and this time he listens when you say you can't take it anymore. he drags himself up to look at you, kisses you in a way that leaves you breathless, and slowly pushes himself into you as you whine and squirm.

round one, he starts gentle, slowly working his way up to a medium pace, where he starts fondling your chest. once he really gets going, though, he's spitting on you, choking you, and rubbing your clit with his thumb all while pounding into you at an incredible pace. "so good for me, toots," he growls, fucking into you almost inhumanely now. all you can manage is a whimper. you cum once more before he pulls out and makes you suck him off til he finishes, grabbing your hair and guiding you up and down, and then really far down before cumming down your throat.

ten minutes of making out later and round two starts with him shoving you down, hands and knees, so he can shove himself into you from behind. something about the recoil of your ass makes his brain short circuit. he brings his hand around to your clit again and it's not long before you're screaming that you're about to cum again, and he smacks your ass so hard you know it's going to leave a mark and says, "fuckin' cum for me, you stupid slut. can't listen to directions but i bet you'll follow that one, huh?" through gritted teeth. you cry out and collapse as your fourth orgasm rips through you. he holds you up long enough for him to somehow speed up before filling you up with his pearlescent seed.

you both lay there for a second before he kisses the back of your head and pulls out, leaving to go get you some water and then help you to the bathroom. you make a mental note to always eat more than one of those chocolates and sigh, finally feeling satisfied.

[bwabys-scenarios]

helloooo!! I saw ur requests were open and that you were askin for some dungeon meshi x chubby reader....I gotchu covered.

May I please request some Chilchuck(or..Chilchack?? Ive no clue what the spelling is..) x Chubby!Reader and maybe also some Laois x Chubby!Reader? If you dont do multiples then either guy is fine!!

Sfw and nsfw on how they interact and think of your body? Scenarios like you tending to grab Chilchuck away from danger alot so he gets alot of booba action?? Embarrassed flustered old man?? Having to look up at you(if you were to be taller) but all he sees is ur chest?? Him givin Alot of needy attention to them when you do fool around cuz it Has been a big thing on his mind?? Him stiching and adjusting ur undershirt so it actually helps support ur chest a bit better and ur so grateful? Laois having a staring habit when he spaces out...yknow him and his tendencies to be curious(he wanted to Count Izutsumi nipples for gods sake.), he just doesnt know, he doesnt mean for it to be creepy or anything he jus is SO infactuated w ur body its so so so beautiful to him, him getting super happy and starts exploring ur body when consent is given?? Alot of his attention is on ur chest too, weighing it, squeezing. Stuff w warm body heat too, Just all around big loving

Thank you so much if you decide to do this and incredibly sorry if I messed up in my ask in anyway 💖💖💖

Chilchuck x Chubby!Reader SFW/NSFW HCs

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

a/n: I will do the Laois one in a separate post!! The Chilchuck ideas just… spoke to me!! Also pls send me Dungeon Meshi requests… I’m open to writing for all the adult characters…

warnings: boob sucking, tittyfucking, breeding, cockwarming, thigh fucking, pussy eating

SFW

-you’re probably the only one in the party that he can sleep next to without complaining. you’re soft and warm, and when you ask if you can share his bed with him for the night because it’s cold, he’s… a bit too eager to lift up his blanket for you to join him.

-he complains that you don’t eat enough, and ends up giving you bits of his lunch and dinner. he just think your chubby cheeks are so cute when you’re chewing and likes to watch you eat. he does worry for you though…

-if it’s dark and you’re a bit afraid, he’ll hold your hand. if you ask him why in front of Laois or Marcille he’ll get all flustered and say he didn’t want you to trip him up.

-he only reaches your boobs, which is both a blessing and a curse for him. he can look at your boobs all day with little to no suspicion, but he also gets pulled into your boobs quite often when you hug him or try and save him from an attack. that might sound good to some people, but to him it gets him all flustered and hard embarrassed, then he gets teased by Marcille :(

-oh my gosh snuggles with him are so nice. he’s rather light so once the two of you are close, he’ll lie on top of you and bury his face in your chest or tummy! he’s actually quite the cuddlebug, and will want to snuggle you every single night after the first time.

-your tummy… he loves it so much. Chilchuck is quite the fan of anything soft, so more often than not, when he’s taking a nap he’ll have his head in your lap and face buried in your chubby tummy.

-he’s a bit embarrassed to show you affection in front of the others, so ways he shows he cares are usually subtle unless it’s behind closed doors or away from prying eyes. he peels your apples for you, bandages you up after you get hurt, will tug on your shirt to remind you that he’s here and that he loves you, and give your palm secret kisses when no one’s looking.

-he’s surprisingly possessive? when Laois looks at you, even if he’s just curious and wants to ask you questions, Chilchuck rushes over and finds some excuse to pull you away. he’s the most worried about Laois, but doesn’t like Senshi being all close to you either. he puts up with it more though, but dislikes that Senshi acts like yours and his relationship is like puppy love(Chilchuck is a grown ass man 😭)

-he’s very soft with you, very rarely being sarcastic or short with you specifically. he made you cry once early on in your relationship and it absolutely devastated him, so since then he’s been a lot more careful about what he says

-speaking of crying, he can’t stand your tears, it makes him nervous. if you’re a cry baby be prepared for him to be fretting over you constantly!

-you’re the person everyone in the party wants to snuggle with when it gets cold, so he has to shoo people away, blushing and stuttering about how they’re crowding you. once they’re all pouting and walking away, he huffs and snuggles up to you. you find his jealousy pretty cute, so you lift up your shirt a little so he can duck under it and rest his head on your chubby tummy or breasts.

-your chubby cheeks activate his cuteness aggression. he didn’t even know he liked cute things until he saw your cheeks puffed out and warm after someone made you mad. he nearly stopped breathing, it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t help but cup your cheek in his hands. your face heated up even more when he stared up at your with those adoring eyes, gently pinching your cheeks. “soft… so soft and warm…”

-he can be a bit clingy at times, especially when it gets colder out. when you go to sleep, he has to sleep under your shirt, his head on your chest or tummy. you complain about him stretching your your shirts, but he thinks the slightly oversized look is cute on you. honestly, everything is cute on you, because you’re adorable to him.

NSFW

-boobies… he loves your boobs so much. they’re soft and warm, feeling nice and heavy in his hands when he holds them. loves when he gets to bury his face in your bare chest and just snooze… but he also adores getting to play with your nipples, gently nibbling and suckling on the perky buds. he won’t lie, he can get hard just from looking at your clothed chest…

-he is absolutely a service dom that wants to make you feel good, but he can also enjoy being taken care of sometimes!

-enjoys being between your thighs more than he likes to admit. the first time he tasted your pussy was also the first time you ever saw him look so… in love. he gets pussy drunk within minutes, not able to stop sucking on your sensitive clit until you push his head away. he had a wife so he’s definitely experienced with pleasing a woman, so don’t be surprised when he has you cumming on his tongue for an hour or more! <3

-when he’s feeling a bit horny and doesn’t want to bother you at night, he’ll kiss your temple and hold onto your hips as he fucks your thighs, his cock lightly brushing against your pussy. your thighs are fat and soft, and he just loves nestling his cock between them!

-sometimes he’s just tired and wants some snuggles, so he’ll have his cock buried inside of you while you sit on his lap. the first time he asked for this you were terrified you’d crush him because he’s so small and you’re chubby, but he begged for it, something he had never done before. you relented, and as soon as he was buried inside of you, with his head nuzzled against your chest, he looked just too content. “thank you, love… it’s perfect…”

-he’s embarrassed by how good it feels to hear you moan his name, when you say how his cock feels so nice when it hits that certain spot and how you’re gonna cum way quicker than he expected. you being so attracted to him, feeling so much pleasure by him just thrusting into you gets him feeling giddy!

-he most certainly has a bit of a breeding kink… he has 3 daughters already that he loves, but… the urge to claim you and give you a child as well does make his body heat up and his pants grow tight. Chilchuck would like to get you pregnant, but only when it’s safe to do so. he doesn’t pull out though… he just can’t, it’s too tempting and you’re way too warm and cozy… it’s why he loves cockwarming so much!

-circling back to boobs… he’s definitely the type to enjoy a good tittyfuck, but it’ll take him a while to accept this. he’s utterly embarrassed to have his cock anywhere near your face due to being a bit shy, but once he’s nestled between your breasts and your tongue touches the tip of his cock, he groans, nearly cumming right then and there. he’s already a huge fan of your breasts, so feeling them on his cock is otherworldly, and it becomes one of his favorite ways to relieve stress

-he likes to either cum inside of you or on your tummy… he refuses to cum on your face, and will only cum in your mouth if you ask. when he fucks your thighs, he does tend to make a mess all over you and feels awful since it’s not exactly easy to bathe regularly in the dungeon. but you do look awfully cute, messy and sticky with his cum, puffing out your chubby cheek to give him a pout.

[vanmarkus]

I know we all love the idea of Eddie keep flirting with Steve and calling him pet names, because he thinks he can get away with it.

But I've been thinking about Steve casually calling Eddie baby without even registering what he's doing.

Like they are standing outside the van with the hood open and Steve just tutting at him like "Eddie, baby, you really gotta get your transmission checked, this is like the third time this month" and Eddie's losing his shit, mouth hanging open in shock, but Steve has no idea and it just keeps on happening after that.

Next time it happens, they are all over at Steve's, having a movie night and Steve has El and Max passed out on him, making him unable to get up from the couch without waking them and he just whisper-yells to Eddie "Hey babe, could you pass me a beer? Kinda tied up here" and Eddie just blanks and says nothing, but gets a bottle from the sixpack on the floor and Steve says "thanks" like it's just how things have always been between them.

And Eddie's working himself into a frenzy. Has Steve got no idea about what he's doing to him? Because Eddie's been lowkey crushing on Steve since he got mixed up in the whole Upside Down business and it just got worse when he woke up at the hospital to Steve holding his hand and giving him the brightests of smiles that there was, rubbing his thumb over Eddie's knuckles, whispering a soft "Hey there sleeping beauty, how're ya feeling?" while being completely oblivious to the suspicious look Wayne was giving them. And sure, hanging out with him nearly every day didn't help the situation one bit.

But this. This is going to be the death of him.

And it just keeps on happening. Steve murmurs "goodnight baby" into the phone before hanging up, he shouts "babe, come here, you gotta see this" when Lucas ends up stuffing fifteen oreos into his mouth (which is a new personal record) and whispers "hey baby, I'm sorry, I know you'd rather do something else, but I promised Mrs Wheeler" when they're watching Holly's ballet recital, waving at her from their seats when her eyes land on them.

It all comes to a head when Eddie's stupid van breaks down in the middle of fucking nowhere, on their way back from Indianapolis, after going there to buy a special boardgame for Dustin's birthday.

There's not a single car or house to be seen anywhere in a ten mile radius.

"Oh this is just great," Steve hisses as he jumps out of the car to walk around and Eddie does the same. He pops the hood and watches as a small cloud of smoke slithers out of it.

"Shit" Eddie swears under his breath. It looks bad.

"See baby, that's exactly why I told you to get it checked! Because I didn't wanna get stuck in fucking no man's land!"

"Look, I'm sure if we just leave it to rest a little..."

"Rest? Eds, come on, you know that's not how it works. We gotta walk up to the next gas stop and phone someone to tow it."

"Fuck, fine!" Eddie grunted. "But it gets dark in like twenty minutes."

They both know that they can't handle walking out in the wild after dark. Not after everything and not with all the nightmares that still tormented them most nights.

"Then I guess we're sleeping out here tonight." Steve says, dropping his hands on his hips. "You have pillows or some shit in the back?"

"Got a couple of blankets, yeah."

In the end they lay down two blankets on the bottom of the van and bundle up some old jumpers Eddie keeps in there for pillows. They lie there, facing each other in the dark.

"Hey... I'm sorry about all this" Eddie whispers, like his voice could disturb anyone out here in the middle of nowhere.

"It's okay, I just wish you'd pay more attention to stuff like this. I mean shit, babe, what if it's just you out here, huh? What then?"

"Steve-"

"I mean, I just hate to think about how shitty it would be, to be out here alone, in the dark... plus I'd worry myself sick not knowing where you are, you know?"

"Steve."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not alone."

"No, no you're not alone" Steve agrees with a private little smile.

They settle into a companionable silence and Eddie's almost certain that Steve is just about to drift off, but he can't contain it in himself any longer; he has to ask.

"Hey Steve?"

"Mmh?"

"Why uh... why are you keep calling me...?" He can't bring himself to say it out loud without his face heating up.

"What?"

"Names." He settles, hoping that Steve would get it.

"Names?"

He's gonna make him say it, isn't he?

"Yeah like uh... baby."

"Oh"

Even in the darkness of the van Eddie can see how the colour darkens in Steve's cheeks.

"Does it bother you?" Steve asks after a beat and Eddie just sighs out a soft "no".

"Okay."

For a long moment it seems that this is all Eddie's gonna get, but then Steve shuffles a little closer and runs a finger along Eddie's palm before taking his hand into his own.

"It just felt right, you know? Calling you that. I dunno, it was like how it was meant to be."

"That sounds kinda romantic, isn't it?" Eddie's shooting for a joke, but Steve just sighs timidly.

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it?"

"Steve-"

"Eddie... can I?" He doesn't finish it, but Eddie knows he'd say yes to pretty much anything Steve could ever ask from him.

"Yeah" He breathes with a little nod and Steve scoots even closer, placing his other hand onto Eddie's cheek. He leans in and looks him in the eyes for an impossibly long moment, making sure he's got permission one last time.

Steve whispers a soft "baby" onto his lips before finally closing the gap between them.

[suguru-getos]

Hi En I had an idea which I can’t get off my mind it’s eating me alive it’s making me pounce on my pillow and screech wildly. Hear me out- bully Getou with a who did this to you moment 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

oh my goddd ‼️ 🥵 this sounds like such a good idea, especially with bully!geto 🙈

-> who did this to you? — geto suguru

summary: bully!sugu notices you were also becoming a target for others & kicks ass for you x (comments and reblogs are appreciated)

just because suguru thought he had free reign over you, so did another brat from his class. you were his junior after all and only satoru knew that he actually doted on you. suguru was getting restless for the day, he hasn’t seen his pretty little babygirl today. sure, he loves the look when your eyes try to evade eye contact from his stern gaze. when he says you need to be put in place for looking so delectable. when he teasingly calls you a little whore for suguru’s attention.

you deflected him so many times but his persistence has led to your ignorance. though he can’t find you anymore. his best friend satoru is quick though, “she’s near the store room hallway.” he hums, shrugging. why were you there? were you trying to run from suguru? he scoffed, pouting a little and ushering towards the known location.

finally, what he saw made his heart clutch a little. it’s december, you’re shivering from cold because someone had drenched your white shirt, your red bra is visible from it instantly and you hug yourself. you want to cry but you know that wouldn’t really help you. so you just sit there, shivering and spasming and knowing you’d catch a fever soon.

the echoes of his footsteps distract you instantly, you turned back, watching him and wanting to kill yourself. suguru would make such fun of you for being so miserable & looking so miserable. so weak and pathetic. “you think i did this for your attention too? yeah i did it, now leave me alone.” you managed to croak with your chattering teeth.

he hums, cupping your face and blood boiling when he found you cold. “let’s get you a blanket first, then you will go to the infirmary and change it. you’ll catch a cold and fall sick & we don’t want that do we? we have our exams soon, little girl.”

you can’t help but nod in affirmation, feeling a little taken cared of by him. though you think it was done by suguru… “yeah, don’t act like you didn’t ask your classmates to put ice cold water on me.” you were glossy eyed and felt pathetic. “you’ve let others joined in your-”

“who did this?” suguru was stern, almost unrelenting with the way his brows furrowed and his jaw tightened. you wince at the demeanour change and looked up at him, pouting with your glossed eyes.

“stop pretending-”

“i asked you something little one. who did this?” he asked once more, a little tender. “who did this to you?”

you parted your lips to finally mumble that you infact, don’t know who these people were. you have seen them around satosugu and hence you know they are his classmates. suguru sighs, his rage knew no bounds. his pretty little girl only he could bully, was taken lightly because of his behavior. he hums, carrying you princess-style, as a statement that you’re not to be fucked with. the most popular guy in school was whipped and carrying you as if you were his prized possession. the school saw it, everyone saw it. you… saw it.

you had time to change and when you were done, satoru brought you hot chocolate, smiling and headpatting you. “yer going to be fine little girl. i know suguru wouldn’t let anyone irritate ya! only us!” he grins, sitting beside you.

“now, he’s gone to bring all the bastards and bootlickers around us, so you can recognize them and let us deal with it, easy? no?” satoru smiles, giving you some comfort as you nodded. “mm, yeah…”

and suguru did bring them, the people who did this to you looked terrified, the same way you felt around suguru in the beginning. only suguru never really gave you any reason to… you thought he’d hit you for rejecting him but he never did. never raised a voice on you. but yes; loomed around you, commented on your body, your face, everything… suguru was a piece of shit with morals. yeah — that’s how you’d label him.

you pointed at the guys who gave the mere explaination before getting their ass brutally whopped in front of you that they thought suguru did it, which gave them a free pass to. while their noses bled and they mumbled apologies from suguru’s kicks and sickly behavior of - “sorry, she can’t hear you.”

you heard him mumble, “she’s mine to toy with, you fuckers can’t touch her or i’ll rip your hands and legs out.” suguru geto was indeed, a piece of shit with morals.

[222col]

Can you please write a fanfic about shy nerd Stanford student Art being in love with reader who studies in the same college and her repeatedly rejecting him but Art pining for her and doing everything to change her mind and he only has eyes for her even though there are many girls who have crush on him and trying to seduce him and get him to like them back. And one day his best friend Patrick decides to set him on a blind date without Art knowing because he knows he would refuse so when Patrick tells him to meet a girl he thinks that they would meet for studies or something and when Art goes to that "blind date" he notices that y/n was on a date in the same place on and she realizes that she has feelings for Art because she gets jealous when she sees him with the girl but she can see that he's feeling very uncomfortable around that other girl. You can add smut and them ending up together I'M BEGGING YOU TO WRITE SOMETHING LIKE THIS 🧎‍♀️

oh my god yes yes (i changed the blind date idea a little hope thats okay!!!) i may have gone a little overboard on the length i was excited okay | 18+!!!

"c'mon, please, just say yes this time," he's pleading with you. holding your favourite flowers in his hand. part of you feels bad, rejecting him again and again. he is cute, just a little too cute for you. "art, i've told you, you're not my type." your arms are folded, he sighs and leans his head against your door frame. "will you at least accept the flowers?" his words are like whimpers. you smile sweetly at him, extending your arm. that smile is all he needs, handing you over the bouquet. you find an empty cup in your dorm room, filling it with water and placing the flowers inside. he watches your every move from the doorway. "goodbye, art" you mumble, grabbing your phone from your back pocket and laying on your bed. you don't watch him leave, he studies you for a few moments before closing your door and heading back to his own room.

"hey, art," girls flutter their lashes at him on his walk home, he always just smiles awkwardly and moves along, breaking the heart of another girl, because they just aren't you. he arrives to his dorm, collapsing on the bed. his cock twitches, he didn't even realise he was hard until that moment. must have been when your hand grazed his taking the flowers, or the sight of your hard nipples against your stanford t-shirt. his hand is already in his trousers, thinking about you bursting through his door, apologising for all the times you rejected him, kissing his whole body telling him how stupid you were for not letting him take you out. his door swings open, he comes there and then, stuck in his fantasy. "oh jesus christ art, did she say no again?"

art quickly covers himself and his mess as his cheeks blush red, patrick sits on the edge of the bed. "don't laugh," art begs, burying his head in his pillow. he can hear patrick smiling in his words, "i'm not, but christ, man, you need some pussy." patrick watches him shake his head in his pillow. "dude, i watch girls throw themselves at you nearly every day, and yet you're the only guy on campus not getting laid." art sits up, still covering himself with his blanket. "i don't want those girls, i want-" patrick just slaps his arm. "yes, i know you want her. but she doesn't want you. hey, i wonder if she's just gay or asexual or something, maybe i should try and fuck her and we'll find out." patrick says, deep in thought about this idea. art's eyes darken, "don't you fucking dare, patrick." patrick just rolls his eyes at his friend. "hey, calm down romeo, we can share." art is up now, pushing patrick out of his room, locking it behind him. "i was only joking, art, don't be so sensitive."

weeks go by, art still rushes to meet you after class, carrying your bag or books back to your room. leaving you notes and your favourite snacks outside your door late at night, bringing you a coffee some mornings. every time he sees you he asks the same question, "will you say yes, let me take you out?" it's met with a sigh by you every time, sometimes squeezing his arm or kissing his cheek to soften the blow. these acts of kindness only make art fall more and more for you. art sits in his room, studying tennis plays and doodling love notes on a thursday night. his phone lights up, a text from patrick.

meet me @ our favourite bar tomorrow night? 7pm?

art replies 'sure' and continues doodling. tomorrow comes, art does up the buttons to his pink shirt and zips up the fly of his jeans. he fluffs his hair on his way out, leaving to go meet his friend at the bar down the road. walking through the entrance into the dimly lit bar, art scans the room for patrick, only to see a blonde waving him over. he furrows his brow, slowly walking in her direction. "hey! patrick told me you'd meet me here at 7, i was a little early so i just got us both a drink, hope that's okay?" art has literally no idea what she's talking about. "what is happening right now?" he asks, his tone blunter than expected. "your friend, patrick, told me to meet you here, for our date?" art slowly sits in the chair opposite the blonde. " i was like, so surprised when he told me you wanted to go on a date because obviously i see you on campus and at tennis but like, i didn't think you'd wanna date me-" she's rambling, art cuts her off. "what's your name?" he can barely cover the boredom in his voice. "oh, um, it's lindsay. would you not already know that if you asked patrick to set us up?" she's confused, sipping her drink, red lipstick sticking to the straw.

he's thinking of an answer, debating just leaving. there's no point him being here, on this stupid date that patrick has orchestrated. he questions whether just running for the door would make him a terrible person, but as he checks the exit, he sees you. sat on a table by the window, leaning over, talking to a man he's never seen before. is this why you always said no, because you had a boyfriend? no, you would have just said that. well, now he definitely can't leave. he watches intently as your cleavage bulges over the top of your dress, laughing as you bring your drink to your mouth. you're five tables away, but you're sat facing him. "uh, art?" the blonde questions, bringing art back to the situation at hand. "sorry, uh, lucy. yeah, i guess i must have forgot talking to patrick about it all, i've been so busy with tennis."

you look so beautiful, all art can think about is ripping your little white dress off your body and fucking you over the table, right in front of the stupid guy you're on a date with. "it's lindsay," the blonde whispers, sipping her drink again. "yeah that's what i said," art's eyes revert back to the girl in front of him. he leans back, allowing more physical distance between him and lindsay, lucy, whatever her name is. your eyes scan the room, landing on art. your mouth opens slightly, he's on a date? why did part of you feel jealous, sad even, that after months of trying to win your attention, he's given up. he's moved on. you bring your focus back to your own date, trying to shake off the emotions running through your body. your eyes keep darting back to art, letting your date take over the conversation. he looks uncomfortable, leaning back on his chair, fiddling with the hem of his button up. you think how beautiful he looks in this light. you smile slightly, as his eyes meet yours. he smirks, catching you staring at him.

he watches you excuse yourself to the bathroom, your hand lightly grazing his back as you walk behind him. his breath hitches, immediately cutting the blonde girl off to go to the bathroom. you're washing your hands when art rushes into the room. "art, what are you doing, this is the ladies r-" you can't finish your sentence, his lips are on yours. you push him off you, as he just smirks down at you. fuck, that's what you wanted. no more nice little art, following you around like a lost puppy. but a tall, hot art, forcing his lips on yours, not caring about anything else but kissing your mouth. you grab him by the hair and pull his lips back onto yours, feeling him chuckle against your lips, his hands rush around your body. he pushes his tongue into your mouth, moaning as he does, his hand grabbing your body and lifting you up onto the sink. he slots himself between your legs, lips never leaving yours. you taste like perfection, everything he'd been dreaming about.

you remove your lips from his, leaning up to whisper in his ear. "take me home," you kiss and bite at his earlobe. "no, i'm gonna fuck you right here," you lean back and look up to him, the blue of his eyes overshadowed by the size of his pupils. "what if someone walks in?" you question, your lip between your teeth. "do i look like i fucking care?" you've never been so turned on in your life, neither has he. he's trying so hard not to jizz his jeans. slipping his hands under your dress, lifting you up slightly to remove your underwear. he tucks the lacy pair into his pocket, "i'm keeping these," he growls into your ear, your head leans back, hitting the mirror behind you. he positions your body at the edge of the sink, wrapping his arm around you to keep you in place. his other pushes his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, his cock hitting his stomach, finally free from the constricting fabric. you gasp at his size, he just smirks and runs his fingers through your folds. "you're fucking soaked," you blush, "don't get embarrassed, i've dreamt of making you this wet."

all you can do is grab his head and kiss him. he lines his member up with your hole, teasing your entrance. "how badly do you want it?" he pushes the tip in, "fuck- so badly, art, please," he keeps teasing you, so very slowly sliding more of his cock inside you. "you're so tight princess," he can't keep his eyes off your face, savouring every expression you make, every quiet noise that escapes your lips. he pushes himself all the way in, holding himself there. you feel even better than he ever imagined, it's the most perfect thing he's ever felt around his cock. "please, art, please fuck me," you're begging him, he's revelling in it. he's been begging for your attention for months, and now here he is, inside you, you begging him to fuck you. you buck your hips, in need of any kind of movement. "fucking hell, art, please, i'm desperate for you, i need you,"

his hands grab your ass from underneath you, pounding into you harder than you've ever been fucked before. the bathroom fills with the sound of skin slapping skin as you bury your moans into his face, arms tight around his neck. he pulls your head back by your hair, desperate to see your face as he fucks you. he moves his hand over your mouth, as much as he wants to hear every ungodly noise you make, he wants to finish inside you before getting caught. he lifts you up again, spinning around and pushing your body against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist as he keeps pumping into you. one hand around your waist, the other on the wall keeping him steady. only making you even wetter, his strong form holding you up with just one arm. he bites down on your shoulder to stop the groans escaping him. "you're fucking mine," he whispers into the nape of your neck. you simply nod your head, not good enough, he thinks. "tell me, tell me you're mine," his words leave his lips in between thrusts.

"i'm yours, fuck, i'm all yours art," your breath is shaky as you answer, legs tightening around his waist. "that's my girl," he peppers your face in kisses, his hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead. "christ, shit, i'm so close," he mutters against your lips. "come inside me art, fuck, i'm on the pill, please baby," it's like you can see his thoughts, read his brain. he moans against your lips as thrusts once more, pushing his body up even closer against yours, your orgasm comes at the same time as arts. both mumbling profanities against each others lips. he pulls out of you, gently setting you back on the ground, still holding you, keeping you steady. you can feel his load drip from your pussy onto your thighs. he kisses your forehead repeatedly, "my god, you're so beautiful."

you shyly smile at him, leaning up to kiss his lips. the two of you return to reality, art helping clean you up, pulling up his boxers and jeans. "am i really not getting my panties back?" you ask him, giggling. "nope. these are my souvenir princess." your knees go weak again, readjusting your hair and clothes in the mirror. "christ, why did i wait so long for that?" you laugh, looking to art through the mirror. he plants a kiss on your cheek. "i knew you'd come around eventually, sweetheart." the two of you double check your appearance in the mirror, "back to mine?" art asks, still nervous for your response. you simply slip your hand into his and nod. the two of you leave the bathroom, heading towards the exit of the bar. you notice art's date has already left, yours still sat at the table waiting. "what the fuck?" is all he can muster, seeing you and art holding hands leaving the bar, laughing, art leads you back to his dorm.

"can you just wait here a sec?" he asks sweetly, pulling his keys out of his pocket. "my room's a mess." you nod, leaning on the wall next to art's door. he scrambles through the door, almost running to his desk to discard the ridiculous amount of love notes dedicated to you. he trips on his way, landing on the floor to see patrick sat on his bed. "what the fuck did you do? i set you up on a date out of the kindness of my heart, and what do you do? leave through the bathroom, you little shit! she's been blowing up my phone complaining about you." patrick hits art lightly on the head. still on the floor, art smirks. "well, i didn't actually leave through the bathroom," patrick interrupts him, "fine, so you stayed in the bathroom so long that she left, same thing!" art stands up now, "i had a very good reason to stay in the bathroom so long." patrick leans back on the bed, looking up to his smirking friend. "enlighten me," you enter art's room, having heard the whole conversation. "i think that good reason he's talking about might be me." you stand before the boys, holding your hands behind your back, faking innocence. "holy shit, you finally fucked her?" patrick jumps up, hugging his friend. "and in the bathroom, while on a date with someone else, i'm so proud."

[belovedcloud]

Your writing is so good! If it's not too much trouble, can you write soft loving sex with Las Plagas Leon or any of your favorite Leon's?

Crave

pairing: las plagas! leon kennedy x fem! reader

✎ Notes: i hope you like this, i was thinking about las plagas leon and him being possessive of you in a cuddly way when he comes back from saving ashley. sorry that it's short, i have a lot going on for me atm!

➤ WC: 1.55K

➤ CW: porn with barely any plot, possessive leon, leon sucking and appreciating your tits (he's definitely a boob guy), pet names: sweetheart, baby, my love. p in v (unprotected sex), creampie, fingering & rubbing.

Days passed, worry flooded all over your body as you wondered where your boyfriend was. Although you knew this mission was important in many ways than one - Leon never deserved to be forced into working for the government. However, you couldn't help him in any way but care for him when he came home. Tonight would be different, the Leon that returned wouldn't be the one you knew.

You snuggled yourself onto your couch, the only sounds ringing in your ears was the sound of the wall clock ticking each second. 02:41 AM. Your eyes wouldn't bring themselves to sleep, the constant ideas of what Leon was doing made you shiver in fear. His mission was laced in pure secrecy, nobody but him and the government knew what he was doing. Suddenly, the thoughts in your mind were quickly shut off as you heard keys jingle, a familiar figure yanking them out as he opened the door. He was home. You rapidly lifted yourself up, fumbling the blanket in your hands as your eyes gazed upon Leon. He seemed different. Low groans sporadically came out of his mouth as he threw his duffel bag against the wall, Leon's eyes averted to you. Without hesitation he approached you, wrapping his arms around you. "I missed you... Fuck, you smell good." The feeling of his voice rumbled against the skin of your neck as he nuzzled his head into it. "L-Leon, you should really go rest." A small mewl erupted out of your throat as you slowly caressed his arm, staring upon it. Why was black liquid flowing through his veins?

You tried to pull his head away from your neck, but to no avail. He calmly sucked onto your skin, holding you gently. Leon fought off the feeling of something telling him to lose control, he wanted to make love to you. To caress you in ways where the softest moans would be elicited out of you. Subconsciously, his arms lifted you up for the ground, pulling his face away from your neck. This time, you could focus on the cuts and fresh scars that illustrated all over his face. The dark veins protruding out as he took you upstairs. "Leon? What is up with you?" Your soft voice echoed through his brain, oh how he loved you. How he loved you soft skin against his, the roughness of his own pressing against yours. "What do you mean my love?" His coarse voice juxtaposed his mellow actions towards you, gently placing you down on the shared bed. He stared at your figure with such lust and adoration apparent in his eyes, the way his shirt hugged your curves just right. Your shorts pressing into your plush skin as the movement of his hands slowly crept onto your thighs. Rubbing them tenderly as he gave you a small smile.

"What do you mean? I mean... Look at you. You've got some pattern on your skin." You whispered out as his touch infected you with a burning feeling. An ache pulsing where you needed to be touch - how his hands were so close to your sensitive clit. Was this right? You didn't even know if you knew the man in front of you. Of course it was Leon, your lover, was it really him? "Don't worry about me baby, look at how gorgeous you are." He purred out, slowly lifting up his shirt to see your tits. God, they were perfect. He couldn't help but remove his own shirt, feeling hot in his own skin. Seeing your body was a fuel that he never knew he needed, his veins becoming more prominent in his skin. Spreading all over him, your face still in constant worry. Leon didn't like that. He didn't like that you worried for him, when he felt perfectly fine right? He knew he wasn't okay, the voices still in his head and flashbacks to when he previously just saved Ashley. The government would find some type of cure for him, surely right?

The pads of his fingers fondled with your nipples, his mouth enclosing on one of them as he looked up to see your blissful face. Light moans escaping your throat as your fingers laced themselves into his hair strands - tugging on them just slightly. Leon groaned into your tits, feeling himself jerk into the soft bed you both laid on. He craved you. Your body craved him too as a wet patch formed on your panties, the baby blue colour turning dark as your slick clung on it. Leon's hands moved methodically all over your body, caressing parts that needed him for so long. Until moving them to tug under the waistband of your shorts. "Can I?" He begged, his eyes pleading for you to say yes. A quiet mumble fell out of your lips as you granted him permission to see you. To see that pretty pussy he missed so much. A bite of your lip nearly drove Leon over the edge as he touched the wet spot on your panties. He could smell the sweetness of your pussy calling out to him. Without a thought, he pulled them off.

"L-Leon!" You yelped as you felt his fingers slowly slide into you. "Need to get you ready baby, want to make you feel good with my cock." The squelches of your cunt taking two of his fingers muffled his sentence as he watched them go in and out. A slight curve to his movement causing a loud whine to flood out of your mouth. You could feel yourself starting to gush onto him, needing more of his touch. Leon's other hand interlaced with yours, a sweet look on his face of appreciation as he watched you moan his name out. He was so in love with you. This new profound feeling in him, made him feel different from any other time he was having sex with you. You were his, his craving. A familiar feeling bubbled up in your chest as you felt the pad of his thumb rub on your little clit. "O-oh Leon..." A mellow moan left you as you shook in his touch, your orgasm gushing out. "That's my good girl... Yeah, cum on my fingers." His praises inundated you. You desired this, as much as he desired you.

Leon made quick work of his pants as he unbuckled his belt, removing the cargos that he used in his rampage in Spain. A wet spot standing out on his boxers where his tip leaked out it's pre-cum. Your eyes followed his hand as he pulled his cock out, it was beaming a harsh pink colour. Impulsively, you sat up and reached out for it. A gasp hushed out Leon's lips as he moaned into his hand, feeling your hand rub his hard cock. "Fuck... Baby please I can't do this anymore." A soft smile appeared on your face as he took it into his own hands, positioning himself in front of your entrance. A slow but steady thrust left you both panting as he rutted himself into you.

"Oh my.. fuck, you feel so good sweetheart." Leon whimpered out as he placed his hands on your hips, staring into your eyes as his thighs tapped against yours. He didn't want to fuck you, he wanted to make love. You were his pretty girl, the one he loved so dear and if it meant holding back his own urges for your pleasure, he would do it in a heartbeat. The eye contact shared between you and Leon made you shy; you covered your face, just to have your hands softly removed by your lovers. "Let me see you.. please you're so pretty like this." His lips pressed against yours, moans rung out between the both of you. Creating a melody filled with raw passion as his thrusts became deeper. Your eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy as you felt yourself shake.

"H-Honey.." you whimpered as your hands scrunched the sheets beneath you. The soft cotton rubbing against you as Leon admired your body. His fingers found their way to your clit again as he started to rub it. "Cum on my cock, cum f'me." His voice turned raspy as his dick throbbed inside of you. The pitch of your moans heightened as you felt a sensation that burned so good, the coil in you snapping as your orgasm rushed over you. Making you chant Leon's name as he felt his thighs starting to shake from pure pleasure. Leon watched his dick move in and out of you, a sheer film of sweat forming on his forehead as he felt his release coming. "Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum. Need to fill this tight pussy up." His head fell back, the strands of his hair sticking to his forehead, the black veins spread all over his body as his load filled you up. A warm feeling loaded into you as he slid his cock out. Seeing some of his cum drip out of you with a silly grin on his face.

"We need to get you checked up Leon.." You mumbled, tracing a dark line down his face. "Tomorrow sweetheart.. Let me hold you." A gentle smile formed on his face as he stared at your blissed out body.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! thank you for reading :)

-> masterlist

[sashi-ya]

HIS MONT BLANK hoshina soshiro x f! reader. bite kink

⋆ requested by: @omeowie - hello, I love your Hoshina x Reader fanfics a lot 💙 I love your writing style, how you build reader’s characteristics and situations so can I request a Hoshina Soshiro x Reader fic for the mini event. NSFW please 🥹 With bite kink and dirty talk if you’re comfortable with it. I would love to see a possessive or yandere Hoshina. But honestly, I would enjoy any Hoshina x Reader work from you. I wish you all the best and I will waiting for every of your fic. Thank you so much. 💕�� ⋆tw: mdni. explicit smut. bite kink. some dirty talking here and there. nipple play and raw vag sex in a tent. Kafka x Mina mentioned, sorry not sorry, I just want those two to fuck already. ⋆wc: 2.1K // event masterlist // tagging some of you cause I know you want this man: @aries-m0rningstar @shaderynshidou @stargirlstabber @loyard176

You are probably wondering why squad 3 ended up on a camping trip to the Shiraiwa Falls, a scenic nature location one hour from the Tachikawa base. I have no idea, but what I do know is what happened that not very warm summer night...

Everybody seems to be in good spirit; Kaiju aren’t at all a problem during this night. The JAKDF vans rest at the very end of the road next to the Ooba Camp Village, and the tents have been properly set up. A very taken care of a bonfire also have been set, yet everybody is happy Ichikawa have brought with him many blankets for extra warmth. The humid nature of the place, and the “Tsuyu” or rain season made the nights of Hinode a little colder than the rest of the day.

Some of the guys, who -as always- have exceeded themselves during the day by climbing and acting like little animals playing here and there in the nature, are already showing signs of being tired. And even others are already dragging their bodies to the tents.

“You look cold” Hoshina fukutaicho says, as he comes closer to you. “A little bit…” you answer back, a little nervous. For some reason you can’t conceive the idea of a laid-back interaction with him when the rest of the squad’s around. “Come a little closer, I won’t bite you…” he whispers, smiling sweetly.

-oh, Soshiro Hoshina, you shouldn’t lie-

He covers you with the same blanket he is wearing, a proximity that some may or may not see a little bit too much for comrades. A proximity even to you seems too much.

However, nobody is really paying much attention; what everybody seems to be watching at is Kafka and Mina having a very private chat a few meters from the rest. Everybody knows, by any means, that such interaction should not be interrupted. Especially, when you discover Ashiro Taichou is capable of laughing being so close to Kafka.

“mhhh…” Soshiro hums, with a naughty smile. “don’t- bother them” Kikoru immediately intervenes. “Indeed, Shinomiya-chan ~” he sings; and with his usual two fingers up in the air he commands that it is time for everybody to go to sleep.

You beam, sweetly. Everybody knows, and at the same time they don’t. It doesn’t matter where that conversation will lead them, but everybody wants Mina and Kafka to laugh and enjoy their night.

“Which tent are you sleeping in?” Soshiro asks, once you stand up to follow everybody else to the tents.

“I was paired with Captain Mina, so that one” you answer, confused as why he is actually asking that.

“Good, then you are sleeping in mine. I paired myself with Kafka but given the fact that they might want a free tent -and if they don’t I will make them use one- this must be done” Soshiro decrees.

You might wanted to differ, but can you say no to him?

Soon, and after the rest couldn’t notice, you are finally inside the vice-captain tent. You find yourself sitting right on what it could have been Kafka’s sleeping bag, covered still with the blanket Soshiro shared with you. The scent of his manly perfume invades your nose, brain and mind. And your eyes, get full of the image of him taking his jacket off.

Soshiro wearing shorts is a whole new look you aren’t used to; but the compression shirt always stays on. He knows how good it looks on him, and he will explode such tempting imagery to his own benefit.

“Looking something  delicious, (Name)-san?” he asks, playful and naughty. “You ~” you murmur, covering your mouth with the blanket.

Soshiro crawls towards you; the tent isn’t big, so there isn’t room for much. His skilful hands pull from your blanket; he wants to see your body, too.

“You might have to excuse me, but you are the delicious one here my sweet little whore” he whispers, kneeled just in front of you ready to attack your lips.

Before you could say something, he turns off the little lamp. Soshiro is well aware of how shadows can casts on a tent specially if its dark enough on the outside.

A subtle light that comes from the silver moon, filters through the fabric of the Izumo tecs tent. It’s enough; you don’t really need the light to see each other’s bodies. Hands all over can travel through the mounts and valleys of your anatomies; lips all over too. Teeth can carve flesh, and tongue taste the taste of lust and needs.

“You smell so sweet, (Name). Did you use this perfume to make me fuck you, my dolce little whore? You want me to bite all over your tits?” he murmurs, inhaling the scent from the small of your neck. Those words hit you hard, your core gets more wet than before.

As if you were a honeyed Mont Blanc, Soshiro’s mouth begins to water. His hand land on your mandible, grabbing your chin with his palm, letting his thumb dive into your mouth and using enough force to move your head to the side.

With your neck exposed, now, he is able to take of bite of your dessert skin. The prominence of his fangs have always been a problem, or maybe just a blessing. Sharp, honed. Enough pressure can tear, rend the flesh. Just as his blades, so precise and deadly…

“Did I say I wouldn’t bite you? I will, actually” he smirks. You can’t see, but you can feel his lips curling up like a devil ready to be as mischievous as he pleases.

Because you allow it. Because you want it to. Because he says so, too.

The first bite came soft, the second one a little harder. The thumb inside your mouth, dampened in saliva, travels from the commissure of your lips towards your neck and chest.

There, where the zipper of your sports shirt is, his fingers reach. Soshiro lowers it, allowing your breasts to pop just like he likes it. Pointy nose buries just in the valley of your collarbones, going down, inhaling more and more of your sweet perfume.

“Ugh… I can’t stop myself. I just want to leave bruises all over this beautiful needy skin of yours” he grunts, getting his fangs ready to bite yet again. This time, with your hips already straddled on his lap. His hardness pushing strong against your core, so much that even the sport shorts feel tight on him.

Every bite makes you flinch; you react with little spasms. He never bites in order, if there is even an order to devour someone. Almost like a cannibal, he keeps bruising your delicate skin, with a painful and yet so delicious sensation. Soshiro could spend the rest of the night just like this, and you will be thankful even if he dared to drew blood out of you.

Down, down to your nipples he goes. Soshiro immediately covers your mouth with his palm, because he knows those little sweet whimpers must only be heard by him, and him only.

Nibbling on your right one, you shudder. Harder, Hoshina fukutaicho.

The tip of his left fang seems to pierce your extra sensitive tissue, enough to trigger a desperate need for your core to graze against his erection.

“My needy little Mont Blanc, come on move on top of my dick, pleasure yourself go ahead” he scoffs. Soshiro encourages you to move on top of him, to hump on him, with his palm squeezing your ass cheeks and pushing you towards him.

Your hands land on his shoulders; oh, the strong, well-trained shoulders of a blade specialist. Your nails, that imitate his teeth, carve marks into the very beginning of his shoulder blades as the biting on your breasts turn more and more violent.

And Soshiro wants more. You definitely want it too. Thus, slowly, but surely your back finally hits the not so comfy surface of the sleeping bag.

His hands land on each side of your head, pinned in missionary position by your hungry superior and lover. A trail of saliva on the commissure of his mouth shines with the weak moonlight passing through the zipper of the tent. The same goes for your upper body; you are trembling, feeling as the wet spots where his teeth have been get colder with a soft breeze.

Your shaky hands reach for the lower hem of his shirt; as much as you may love that compression piece of clothing, you love his pale skin the most.

“Take it off…” you murmur, perhaps pleading for mercy because you are sure this is just the start of this man’s sharp torture.

He smiles, devilishly; the fangs that sometimes are too cute to handle, now show how dangerous they could really be.

Soshiro takes off his shirt, then, looking like the star of a men strip club. Or maybe it is just that his tiny waist seems to be deadly dancing every time he moves.

You swallow, snaking your legs around his hips, pulling him closer to you. He gasps, Soshiro is very used to lead the way, not the other way around. However, he is absolutely lost in need to think much further.

Your eyes interlock; fixed into each other, hungry, desperate. Maybe in another time there will be more time for more foreplay, but not tonight.

You didn’t even notice when it happened, but your pants were off as fast as he can subjugate a Kaiju. His, pulled down by your toe hooked into the hem of his shorts, tangle around his strong hips.

“It’s gonna be raw, babe” he lets you know, half panting, half serious. “I know” you confess, you don’t want it any other way despite the risks.

Soshiro takes a big gasp of air, you are being the death of him. First, your sweet perfume, then your sweet taste and now your desperation for his sex. He then proceeds to lift your left leg up to his waist; he wants to go deeper the mere moment he is inside of you.

“Spread it like this” he murmurs, biting your knee from the side. Soshi positions himself a little to the side, in a delicious way to enter, pumping his throbbing shaft just a little to coat it entirely with the sprouting precum oozing from his tip.

You, on the other side, swear that the poor sleeping bag is already wet from your honeys. And you are not wrong, but things are about to get even more damp.

Slowly, because he can be fast and deadly, but also painfully unrushed, the tip barely lets your folds to engulf it. Your toes curl, it feels like rapture, like total ecstasy. Warmth against warmth, sliding so easily inside, stretching walls just perfectly slow.

The broad shoulders of Soshiro seem to become larger, his frame bigger. You can only imagine the look from his back, with every muscle moving, every defined line leading to the small of his back.

His abs aren’t the exception, either. The way his perfectly sculped stomach moves to the rhythm of his still superficial short thrusts might be enough to make you come. What a beautiful blade warrior he is.

“More…” “More? Aren’t you a little desperate bitch of mine?”

Soshiro goes deeper. Deeper than before. His hand lands on your mouth again, your moan stopped, your heart about to jump from your chest.

The rhythm increases. His hips go in and out faster with every impaling motion, and his teeth grip from the bridge of your foot. Even there, he is willing to leave his marks. Even from there, he wanna taste.

And yet, even on the verge of climax, it is not enough for him. Not deep enough… Your shin ends up on his shoulder, a position you weren’t exactly sure your body was capable to be put on.

He lets his body weight fall on top of you, and you can feel how his hardness might be drilling a hole into your insides. This time it is his mouth the one to mutter your orgasmic whines, inhaling the way you barely pronounce a <fuck> mixed with his name.

And now, he goes full throttle. Ah, Soshiro Hoshina, Vice-captain, fast and precise, deadly and wild… Slaps that some might have chosen to ignore during the night, were created with feverish skin against skin. Moans and grunts were engulfed by needy drooling mouths. Climaxes were reached, on and on and on…

Next morning, camping’s women’s bathroom house.

“(Name) what are those marks on your skin?” “Uh… mosquito bites…” “Oh, Captain Ashiro also has them all over her skin! You two forgot to use bug spray last night?!” “How about we stop asking so many questions…”

….

Next morning, camping’s men’s bathroom house.

“Seems mosquitoes were pretty annoying last night… right, Hoshina fukutaichou? Hibino Kafka?” “bwahahaha, they call you bug Hibino Kafka!” 😂 “They are laughing at you too, fukutaicho!!”  -.-

[smiths-fan--13]

hii! i would like to request a kate martin x reader fic with an age gap (kate being older). the plot could be abt whatever u want im js dying for older!kate x reader 🙏🏾

ofc! love this idea, thanks anon xo ____________________________________________________

Kate Martin as an older gf headcannons

younger!r x older kate martin

warnings: none!

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-> She's a senior and you're a sophomore

-> She often teases you about your age, though there isn't really that much difference.

"Hey baby, you ready to go?" Kate asks, kissing your forehead as you smile up at her. She stifles a laugh while you pick up your stuff and pack it away, getting ready to leave.

"What is it now, Martin?"

"Get it? Baby? Cause you're so young and you're like my little baby!" Kate throws her head back laughing as you groan, hauling your bag over your shoulder as you begin to leave the library.

"You know, if I'm a baby, that makes you a big fat pedo" you tell her as you spin around. She chuckles softly as she wraps an arm around your shoulder, shaking her head.

"Only you would call me a pedo after I made you see stars last night" she whispers in your ear as you both laugh, leaving the library.

-> She loves driving you everywhere and picking you up. She especially loves when you and the girls need a ride to girls' night. You're definitely her passenger princess, no matter what.

-> Loves taking care of you

-> 100% does whatever you tell her to, even though she's older.

"Hey ma can you please fill up my waterbottle?" You groan from the bed.

"Noo do it yourself, I always do it." She pouts back at you.

You lower your bottle and sit up in bed, raising an eyebrow at her.

She flushes as she mumbles and grabs the waterbottle from your hands, filling it up for you anyways. She returns quickly, your bottle filled with cold water and ice.

"Thank you babyy" You flash her a smile as she crawls into the bed with you.

"Yeah yeah whatever"

You both laugh as she cuddles into you.

-> Her friends and teammates tease her when she comes into practice with marks on her neck and body.

She's standing in the change room getting changed for practice when Jada walks in and laughs at her.

"What?" Kate looks at her, confused.

Jada points at her neck and stomach as she continues to stifle her laughter. Kate looks down and notices the purple hickies littering her body. She smirks and shrugs as Caitlin and Gabbie walk in.

"What can I say? My girls a pro" She announces to them proudly, knowing they'd never say a thing to anyone else.

They all laugh at her, nicknaming her "sub" for the rest of the week, giving the sporty phrase a new meaning.

-> Lets you use her little baby blanket when you want to, or when she's not using it. She loves just laying it over the top of you guys before you go to sleep, or wrapping it over you under the blankets as she cuddles you.

-> Secretly loves being older; also loves the idea of being bigger and stronger than you and being able to protect you if ever needed.

-> Thinks she has her own "spidey senses"

You got really bored one day while Kate was at practice and decided to attempt origami. You pull up a YouTube tutorial on a flower and less than 10 minutes in, got a papercut.

"Fuck" You groan, quickly sticking your finger in your mouth to stop the bleeding.

Just as you pull your finger away to examine it, your phone rings. Kate. You pick up and immediately hear her voice.

"Baby are you okay? I just got a feeling to call you and check on you."

You laugh at her words.

"Yes angel, just a papercut"

"Oh" You hear her audibly sigh, relieved it wasn't serious.

"Are you okay though?" She asks again.

"Yeah, of course"

"Okay good. I gotta go, Lisa's yelling at me. If something else happens- call me. Actually no, my spidey tingles will pick it up"

-> Literally worships the ground you walk on, adores everything you say and do. You're it for her.

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Love this request, I hope I did okay!

Keep the requests coming, I'm slowly working through them xx