#RILE HIM TF UP

[arachnid-in-the-air]

I do guess you're right. Doubt the one-eyed-freak would have been much nicer to me. He wasn't- by the way- when I did meet him.

I don't disagree that I've done bad things, but there's a solid difference between that and... whatever in the allspark you enjoy.

Anyways, Stay away from Jack and we won't have problems- I'm not losing another partner.

See? At least I treat my guests with warmth and cordiality. He's not even a scientist. Just a mech with a streak that's not even sadistic. Perhaps that's why he irritates me so much.....

Arcee, I'm hurt~ We all have our hobbies. What's wrong with spending my stellar cycles pursuing them? We all need that little rush, don't we?

Jack, you say? My, after Cliffjumper's demise I thought you would've taken a break. Well, I do suppose third time's the charm~ Give it a while and you'll see him go off to the Allspark, or whatever the natives here call it. And when that happens, don't say no-one warned you~

[viciousbite]

Darkfang seated himself down on one of the lined up metal crates of the quiet alley. A place to escape from the bustling noises of the club, and to rub his clawed digits over his aching neck cables. Why couldn't he ever fully perform as he wanted, and why did he continue to try over and over again? It's because, he enjoyed dancing and doing tricks no mech without a tail or flexibility could manage, and if he had to suffer a little to hype up the crowd, so be it.

[samantitaswrld]

Hi! I like your Deadpool as your boyfriend post, can you please do Logan as your boyfriend next? 😄

logan howlett

…as your boyfriend!

description: wolverine, logan howlett as your boyfriend!

pairing: wolverine x you!

|an: my man my man he love me!

- he’s so big and so tall and scruffy and so mmm. that’s your man! and u want everyone to know it

- like i keep mentioning, he is manhandling tf out of you no matter ur size, all the time!

- he thinks it’s soo cute that he can pick you up in his arms with ease and he loves to hear squeal out a “logaaan!” as he throws you on to the bed

- he’s so standoffish and kinda shy when you’re first around each other bc he’s sooo into you and he thinks you’re so cute

- but once he founds out you dig him too ooo girl

- he grows such a big soft spot for you, you’re the only person that ever sees him vulnerable. and he’s such a silly goose.

- he becomes so much more himself, he’s messing with you all the time throwing teasing insults with a smirk on his face just to watch you get all riled up from him.

- he’s also flirting with you 24/7 girl he’s hot and he knows it. sometimes he’s rather crude but you like it. so it’s okay!

“nice shorts you got there little lady” he said with a teasing tone as you walked past him into the kitchen to grab a quick snack.

“god they’re not even that short!” you’d said, pulling them down a bit. they were that short. but hey, they did the job.

and by job, you mean drive logan crazy.

- but once you become his omg…

- you’re his. nobody is touching you and he’ll make sure of that. and it’s pretty hot.

- if anybody even has body language that even slightly seems like they’re into you oh girl….

- they’re becoming a new scratching post!

- not only are you his, but he’s yours. super loyal! and if he can’t get someone off his back, you bet your ass you will!

- you always feel so protected and he always makes you feel so protected because you are! he would do anything for you and to make sure his lover is safe and sound.

- he’s so obsessed with you and he’s not afraid to hide it, he’s not overly affectionate but he is in fact a cuddle monster.

- he’ll hold your hand, or shove a hand in your back pocket, or lend you his jacket to let people know your his, but he saves the good stuff for back at home.

- you’re also his drinking buddy, he isn’t a fan of the tequila like you are, he’ll stick to his whiskey. but he always takes care of you after a night out and makes sure you’re snug as a bug!

- he is the biggest dom ever omg it’s so hard to get him to sub out for you but when he finally does it’s the best night of your life.

- all the noises he makes that you’ve never heard from him are music to your ears.

- a MUNCH. need i say more? thats why he got that damn beard!

- oh and we know those abs are like a pack of buttered up hawaiian rolls and you wanna go for a ride!

- of course he’ll let you! anything for his babygirl, lick em, touch em, fuck em, anything his baby wants. as long as he gets to watch and as long as you feel good.

- he also loves the praise as you ride yourself out on his abs.

- he loves attention and praise, especially when it’s about his figure.

you and logan lie in bed, his figure cradling yours as he slowly felt you slot your head between his craned arm.

“your muscles are so big babe. give me a lil flex.” you stated, holding on to outside of his forearm with your neck between the underside his forearm and bicep.

“you’re crazy bub.” he states, chuckling and lightly flexing his arm, not enough to hurt you but enough to satisfy you and make you giggle as his big muscles squished your cheeks together.

- you’re always touching his muscles, they’re so hot. and hey, he doesn’t work out like that for nothing! he loves it when you cling to his biceps, or run your fingers down his chiseled back.

[wariomolly]

my bf does not drink the milk left over agter he eats cereal. i think hes unwell and i am tempted to end it based solely on this

[hyukascampfire]

AYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

strawberryland is so full. i’m tryna live there

𝓖INGER & 𝓢NAP ` ꕀ. k.th

you were the last person taehyun expected to appear on his doorstep. sweet and fluffy and oh-so-proper; he never thought he’d see you again. but... there you stand. and, much to his own chagrin, he fears that nobody else could get him more bothered. ׄ ⋆ ִ

་༘ ՚՚ ꒰ 🪵 ꒱ ･ 7.9k

ρairings gingerbread!taehyun x frosty puff!reader

𝒢 ‧̥ smut, fantasy, strawberry shortcake au

⍵arnings brat taming, brat tamer!taehyun & brat!reader, his cum is frosting, creampie, ofc no sex ed in strawberryland, thigh riding, oral m!receiving, cumming into mouth, cum eating, corruption of innocence & innocent!reader, banter, chubby!reader and buff!taehyun, manhandling, he throws her around a bit and she's so into it, they don't like each other but also def do, he likes to teach her manners, reader is also spoiled & rich and taehyun is not, hair pulling, he gets mean, no protectiom, let me know if i missed some!

✎୭ ashlynn's note this collab has been seriously so fun. writing fics is fun, but there's something about talking your friends and scheming all the yummy ways you can incorporate certain things into your fic. @thetxtdevil mae baby, thank you so much for being the best and even coming up with this idea. your mind amazes me... like actually. everybody did so unbelievably good, and i'm blessed to have been a part of it. now... let's get foody and smutty lol. some of this was written in a benadryl haze, but that's the fun part. i'm sorry mine came out a lil later than everybody else's, but hopefully it's still fun!

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

Raising your fist to the door, your knuckles rap against it with a few thick knocks. The door is frosted around the edges in little swirling white puffs of icing, framing the gingerbread door. It’s the same all around his house: gumdrops and candy canes and the like, all twinkling with sugar crystals.

It’s all so sweet—unbelievably so. The man that calls it home is the very antithesis of sweet. He does not take after the gumdrop, nor the sweetness of the icing, and most definitely not the brown sugar and molasses of the gingerbread. Taehyun is the quick snapping of a leg, or the sharpness on your tongue when you get to the cinnamon and nutmeg. 

You loathe it. Even being stood here, knocking at his door, you hate. He is everything uncouth and abrasive—he is everything you should not entertain. 

Here you are, entertaining it. The door swings open. Your fingers and toes have begun to slow with the cold, like frosty-whip in the fridge. Through the forest, stepping over sugar bushes and cocoa streams, you had fought the bite. Why did he have to live all the way out here? Secluded, as though the rest of Strawberryland were beneath his meddling. You know why: it’s that he believes it. He is exactly as your parents told you he’d be, all those years ago. Of course, they were right. They always are.

When he catches sight of you at his door, his distant eyes morph, and his lip tugs into a scowl. The rise of his brows ruffles your feathers with an infuriating ease. “Is there something you want?” he asks. His tone is infuriating, too. It’s the kind of question that means much more beyond the words said. You catch exactly what he means—how he intends to get under your skin.

Hidden behind the door, he has one hand on the handle. It's an unspoken thing, too. He wants you to remember that he could close it. You can’t let him, or else you’ll have drug your pretty new furry winter boots through the powdered snow for him to slam a door in your face. “Yeah, actually. There is.” You run preening fingers through the ends of your hair. “We’re partners for the bake-off.”

“I don’t do the bake-off,” he says. His eyes would be chocolate and smooth if it weren’t for the way he wields them sharp. “Sorry. You’re gonna have to find somebody more your speed for that.”

Barking an incredulous, perhaps even snot, laugh, you look around. Snow comes down on the ground, sweet and creamy. It’d been enough of a battle to come here. If you were going to give up so easily, you would’ve turned your little bottom around perhaps two hours ago. Does he think you hadn’t considered that? It was a long walk; you had plenty of time to mull over the many things he might do. Sometimes, you imagined him diplomatic and affable. You stomped those wispy thoughts out. Perhaps it’s been years since you’ve spoken with him, and perhaps what happened between the two of you is dusted over, but you know better. Here he stands in front of you: bitter as ever. 

“You’re just gonna leave me without a partner?” you say. Your jaw trembles, seized finally by the cold. “Everybody is already paired up. Literally everybody.”

Shrugging, he says, “I don’t see how that’s my problem. I didn’t sign up for it.”

Your brows knit. That means somebody else had signed him up. You have a sneaking suspicion who might’ve—Blueberry Kai always tells you that he just feels excluded. It’s hard not to laugh when he does. Taehyun? Excluded?  He is exactly where he wants to be. Where most are sweet in Strawberryland, the snappy gingerbread finds it easier to justify his bitterness when he lives off in his little gingerbread home, out and away in his own neck of the forest only to be found by a winding gumdrop road, where he can pretend he’s above it all.

It’s entirely ironic. Him, better than you? Gingerbread, and all his ruggedness? His unpolished edges? Once, you’d believed that the two of you weren’t so different. That you could be friends, even. Seeing what he’s grown to be, you think you understand why your parents stepped in. Back then, though, as just that soft little girl who followed the charismatic boy around with crystal stars in your eyes, it had been the worst thing to ever happen to you. He had been so gravity-defying, moving through the soft, marshmallow edges and the sugar-whipped reality of Straberryland as something different.

No. Not gravity-defying. Rather, in the powdery and sweet sweet Strawberryland, you think that is the only thing with gravity.

“That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” he echoes, letting a little patronizing laugh out along with it. “That’s sweet.”

It’s hard not to shift or cross your arms over your chest, abraded by the dripping sneer.

“What? It’s not. It’s not fair that, just because you don’t want to at least give it a try, I can’t participate,” you say. Really, you should just crawl back home and beg to join somebody’s duo, but you can’t lose like that. You can’t lose to him. If you leave it like this, then he’ll have gotten the better of you. 

“Can’t get everything we want, huh?” he says, straightening up and taking the door in his hand once more. “Just because everybody else has bent backward to give you what you want doesn’t mean that I will.”

“Wait,” you say, sighing in a white swirl. “Don’t close the door. Don’t you know your manners? It’s rude. You’re just going to let me freeze out here? I walked all the way out here, and even got snow all over my new boots, just for this, just for you to slam a door in my face? I mean, a gentleman would at least invite me in to warm me up.”

Lips twitching into a laugh and his eyes suddenly alight, he says, “A gentleman, huh?” He pulls the door open a little further. The warmth from his home, warm and spiced and oh-so-inviting like oven-warmed gingerbread, brushes over your twinkling skin. “Sure. Show me your manners, then. I want you to ask me nicely.”

Your jaw tightens. Sending him a once over, sharpening your eyes, you decide to just do it. His tone is nasty, but you don’t want to be disqualified for not having a partner. Even if he’s the worst you could’ve been paired with in all of Strawyberryland. Or maybe the best, because it’s a gingerbread house competition this year. “Will you just do it?”

“I said ask nicely. Say please.” 

He wears a mean smile—he’s having fun watching you squirm. So, you make a conscious effort to straighten up. “Will you please be my partner for the competition?” you say, making your voice sugary and batting your eyelashes in an overdone way. He thinks he’s funny.

Stepping out of the doorway, he motions you inside. It might look gentlemanly if it weren't for the sting in his eyes. You swallow down petty words and push through, your arms full with supplies. Arms aching, you finally let them clatter down over the countertop. The inside of his home is fresh-baked and spiced, aromatic like a true gingerbread cookie straight from the oven. You’re sure the glowing fire helps carry the smell in warm air. It wraps your cold bones up and smooths over some of the frayed edges. You’d been out there for so long… Nobody else had to walk that far for their partner.

Better just to get this done as quickly as you can. You just have to put up with him today, and you’ll be done, and then you can have fun with the competition. He won’t even show up for it; you’re sure. 

“I’ll do it all if it’s that big of a deal,” you tell him, laying out the walls and warming the icing between your palms. “You can put the peppermint on, I guess. So then we can say we both worked on it.”

Hair is the fluffy brown of true gingerbread and dusted with snowflakes like powdered sugar. Taehyun shakes his head, and it moves with him. “No,” he says, the corners of his lips still turned up as though he knows something you don’t. He rolls the sleeves of his gaudy, knitted Christmas sweater up to his elbows. The corded muscle there, flickering with movement, catches you off guard. Gingerbread, built like that? Tearing your eyes off him with the effort of metal tearing itself from a magnet, you watch him approach the kitchen counters. “I’ll help. We’re partners, right?”

No matter what he says, there’s a twist of something sparkling in those sharp eyes that has you watching him closer—has you trying to gauge exactly what he’s playing at. “Uh… Yeah. Sure. If you want to, I guess.” You gesture at the walls. “Two for us, and ten for display. Can you start the walls?”

“Ten?” he says. “We’re making twelve gingerbread houses?”

With your lips pulled taut, you say, “Yeah… Twelve. Is that too much? I didn’t think any amount of gingerbread houses would be too much for you. That’s a little ironic.” Everything is warm in his home—even when you look down at your own hands to tug off your white woolen gloves, your skin that usually sparkles like frost rests just beneath the surface is tinged with the warmth.

“I can handle it just fine,” he says, taking the wall and base sections of one. “Just wouldn’t want you to ruin your pretty outfit. Twelve is a lot of icing.” He spits the word pretty out like it tastes bad. On his tongue, you’re sure it does. He never cared for pretty things the way you do. Your mommy always said that he was just jealous, but when the both of you were little, before your parents’ meddling, you learned that it was just a different lifestyle. One that you don’t understand, perhaps. Who doesn’t enjoy dressing themselves in lush furs and sugar crystals over their necks? 

“I’ll be fine,” you say, snipping the tip of the piping bag open. “I wore these knowing they’d get dirty. They’re my baking clothes. My boots already got all messed up…” 

“Oh,” he says. “You put on cashmere knowing you’ll get it dirty. Mommy and daddy paid a pretty penny for that, huh? And it’s your throwaway outfit?”

“Look. If you like it so much, I’ll let you have it when we’re done, yeah? Maybe you’ll make a pretty penny off selling it.” You ice a warm white line down the length of a wall. “Can you hurry? I’m already icing. I don’t want to be here all day.”

There’s  a few long, thrumming moments of quiet, where only the sound of your piping back crackling fills his home. Finishing a wall, you tear yourself away from your work to spare a glance his way.

Taehyun’s jaw is tight, a muscle flickering where he grits his jaw in the low light that washes over him. There’s a fire blazing in his eyes, and though he doesn’t turn them on you, the smoke rolling from them is enough to make your skin warm. You’d successfully gotten under his skin. Why stop here, when seeing that look on his face is so fun? He looks as sour as an apple; as spiced as cinnamon. “Wall?” you say, sharp and haughty as you offer your hand out to him in an impatient demand.

Snapping his head up, he hands you a wall with the heat of a thousand ovens in his face. You feel the scald he intends for you with it, and you revel in it.

You bark commands at him, watching his shoulders grow tense and his lips twitch with each. Crush the candy canes, you tell him. Melt the icing. Sprinkle these over that. Soon enough, you’re sitting back and watching him work more than anything.

He doesn’t say a word. You see them brimming in his eyes, but he doesn’t let them burst out all venomous like you know he wants to. It’s quite the show. 

“Would you at least help me hold this up?” he says, holding the walls of a house together with one hand. His hands are a mess of runny sugar and powdered sugar for snow, and yours are perfectly clean. You can at least help a little bit if you want to claim any part in the competition. 

You reach for the piping bag, fat with the sweet sweet icing, and straighten a wall up. You trace the seams with it, thick and like glue. With a bit too much pressure, the side of the bag bursts. White rivulets of slow icing run down your fingers and over the table. You curse, dropping it to the counter. That’s all of your icing, flopped down and deflating over the surface all sad-like. It’d been so much, that you thought it would last you each house and then some. Of course, you hadn’t brought extra.

Bringing your sticky fingers up to your mouth, you suckle the mess off. It’s so very sweet—warm and weeping, nutty and spiced with something like nutmeg. It’s Taehyun: the smell of it, the way it spreads over your tongue… You stick your tongue out to catch it where some drips down your forearm. “Mmm,” you say, sticky-armed. “Tastes good.” That’ll be good on the gingerbread houses; maybe the two of you do have a chance at winning. 

When you look up to Taehyun, he stands frozen in place, his hands still holding up a half-constructed gingerbread house. His eyes are different. It’s a look you don’t recognize—a look you’ve never seen before. Rather than deep and warm, his eyes are blackish and heavy. A swallow goes down his throat; a tense, barely contained thing.

 You frown, your lips still a sugary mess. “I didn’t mean to make a mess. Sorry. I’ll clean it up…”

Clearing his throat, Taehyun says, “Yeah…”

He watches you clean the counters, where the icing had pooled, and now the bag is empty, with the same intensity. You can feel it on your skin in a foreign, itching way. You swipe and scoop and work at the spill, and still, he watches. He does not speak. 

You survey the houses you’ve managed to finish. They’re pretty, and absolutely competition ready: looping swirls of icing like shingles on the roofs, peppermint chunks all red and white catching light where you’d sprinkled them into the frosting, gumdrops lining the paths true to Taehyun’s own home, and powdered sugar sifted over the entirety of it like snowfall. It’s all great, but there are only four.  “What are we supposed to do now?” you say, lips pouty. “That’s all the icing I brought. We literally can’t make any more.” You wipe at a smear on your cheek. How’d that get there? “I think I’m gonna have to come back tomorrow… Can you hold on to the houses for me?”

“Yeah—yeah, sure. Tomorrow,” he says, blinking something away. He straightens. “It’s a long walk. I think you should get going.”

You want to say something snarky or ask him why he wants you out of the house so fast, but it’s true. Night’s creeping over Strawberryland, and you have no icing, and tomorrow’s the last day before the bake-off. If the two of you don’t work harder tomorrow than you did today, then you won’t even make qualifications. You’ll lose before even starting.

You never lose. Not like this, and certainly not to the man standing before you. 

ꕀ

“C’mon. You can do better than that, can’t you?” Taehyun says, drooping icing from rooftops like icicles as you sprinkle crushed candies over the top. 

You grit your teeth. If he’d been snappy yesterday, he’s made it his mission to be your worst nightmare today. You think it’s his sort of revenge for ordering him around how you did. “What would you like, then?” you say. Maybe it’s feeding right into what he wants, but your life has lent you a short fuse. “You don’t even care about winning. Why does it matter? Let me do it how I want.”

He’s in another sweater. The sleeves are bunched up to the elbow just like yesterday, but you think he’s making a point with it this time. The shifting of his muscles is a bit too intense for piping icing. You’d made it through three more houses, wrangling your inner demons with each passing snide remark or nasty smile the whole time. It doesn’t help that he keeps his home terribly toasty, and you run cold down to the core. You melt and melt until all that is left of your temper is a puddle on the floor beneath you. Gone. 

“We’re partners, remember?” he says. He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. “I don’t do things half-assed, Frosty.” 

You’re sent reeling with the old nickname. It’d been sweet then, back when it was just the two of you against the world, but now it’s gone sour like milk. It even comes from his mouth soured. It’s something that you thought you’d left a million lifetimes ago, never to hear again. With Taehyun, though, it’s hard to pretend that you are no longer that. 

He will not let you forget that, at one point, the two of you were friends. An unlikely pair, especially looking at you now. You thought it was all nothing to you, but seeing him has kicked up dust. 

“You don’t?” you say, shooting him a quick glare from the side of your eye. “That’s funny.”

Strong brows shooting up, Taehyun quits mid-piping to look at you. “Funny? What’s funny about it to you?”

You can’t settle the obnoxious smile that curls at the edges of your mouth, mean and taunting and falsely sweet. “Oh, nothing.” You shake a sifter full of powder against your palm. It falls like true snow down over the house. 

“No, tell me,” he says, his eyes trained and heavy on your dismissive shrug. “Tell me what you think of me. I wanna hear it.”

Oh, this will be good.

“It’s just that,” you say, “you’re not really known for doing things the best way, you know? Living all the way out here, an ass when anybody tries to talk to you… Well, really, it’s just that nobody likes you. But, don’t worry! I’m sure there’s at least somebody that does.”

His face falls, the twinkle of delight at taunting you that he’d been holding in his eyes gone away. All that’s left is the peaking of something deeper and roiling from out of the cracks. You get the funny feeling that maybe you’ve taken it a step too far.

But, you never lose.

“Is that what it is?” he says. “I work for my shit. You? Everything you’ve ever had has been handed to you.” He measures his words delicately. Like a measuring cup full over the top, he cuts the excess words and coarseness off. He doesn’t say all that he thinks, but you see all he leaves unsaid toiling furiously behind his eyes. 

His eyes. They’re clear and, sharp as they are, they pin you. It’s a reflection of that look he gave you yesterday: deep and swirling and wild. It’s more than that, this time, though. It’s laced with anger and bursting at the seams of him. You’re not sure he’ll be able to hold back whatever it is that storms just beneath his skin, this time.

“It is,” you say, punctuation your words concisely. “It’s exactly why my parents said I shouldn’t hang out with you. They said that I’m above… all this.”

Oh, you’ve absolutely taken it too far now. You don’t really mean it. Sure, that’s what they told you, but you don’t really believe it. For some time, you did, but not now. It’s too late for sorries, though. Taehyun’s jaw goes tense.

For a long, awful moment, you just stand there and burn in his silence. It’s worse than any words he might spit. It’s hot—hot, hot, hot, and you turn liquid in it.

In a blink, nothing more, you collide against his countertop. Something clatters and thuds behind you. The gingerbread houses? That doesn’t matter right now—all that your dizzy mind can manage is his body crushing you and his fingers biting into the plush of your cheeks.

Where he had fractured, like true gingerbread, he snaps. You can see it in his eyes; even you know when you’ve pushed too far. Perhaps you ought to have seen this coming.

His knuckles curl white around the edge of the counter beside you, and his fingers dig deeper into your face. He’s oh-so-hot up against you. “I’m sick of your fucking mouth,” he snarls. His breath is hot as it fans over your face, too. “Someone needs to put you in your place. Where are your goddamn manners?”

Your heart thrums in your chest, and your pulse goes wild in your neck. You can’t form the words to answer him.

“Quiet now, huh?” he says. The husk in it makes the place between your thighs feel weird. You don’t know what’s wrong with you.

He shut you up real quick. You’ll give him that.

That funny feeling does flips, roaring to life when his fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms. “That’s your problem.” His eyes send a chill up and down your spine. “You’ve never been told no. You’ve always gotten what you wanted.” Peeling down all the layers, he tugs your knitted stockings and your little fur skirt, and your sweet frosty panties, too. They bunch at your feet. Between your thighs, right where those foreign, throbbing waves reign, cool air laps at a wetness there. The hair all over your body rises. You’ve never felt anything like it. “Not with me. I'll set you straight. I don’t put up with spoiled brats.”

“I’m not a brat,” you say. “You’re just an ass.” They’re the first words that come to you. Damn your temper.

With the same hand he’d been holding your face in place with, he curls his fingers right into your scalp and yanks hard, baring your neck to him. You lose a strained squeak, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the sting. If your heart had been racing before, it runs wild, now. You strain your eyes to look at him and his curled lips. Painted with a sneer, he says, “Watch your mouth.”

A swallow goes down your throat hard. It’s all unfamiliar: the aching between your thighs, the burning in your blood, and the dazing of your thoughts. “Taehyun, I… I feel weird. It feels weird.”

Something knowing passes over him. “Yeah?” he says. “Show me where. I can help.”

Show him? You hesitate, searching his eyes for an ounce of joke or aversion. You find none, and that pounding is syrupy-sweet, and he says he can help. That’s all you want; all you need. Taking a trembling hand, you bring it down your body, running the palm down the planes of your belly and resting it just over the spot where the lower bit gives way to the apex of your thighs. Going any further—the thought tightens your throat and pinkens your cheeks the color of strawberry frosting. “There. It feels weird there.”

Taehyun smiles a snappy, spiced smile. He likes that. “Want me to make it feel better?”

Your thoughts feel replaced by something powdery and weightless. You give him a dumb nod.

“Say please.”

Something bratty crawls up your throat, but you want help, and he’s the one who will give it to you. He’d meant that: teaching you a lesson. Melted around the edges already, you say, “Please, help make it feel better.” Your voice wavers.

“There we go. That’s how good girls talk. That’s how you ask to get what you want.” He nudges your thighs apart with a knee and slots it between them, pressed right up against that coolness. Right up against that need. “Grind down on it.”

Neck aching at the angle, you say, “Grind?”

He brushes his clothed thigh right up against you. The friction is delicious—sweet and melty and just what you need. It shoots yellow sparks throughout you.

It feels so good. Your mouth waters in anticipation.

“Grind,” he says. It’s harder, this time. Not a sweet suggestion.

You bring yourself back down on it, gasping at the contact, and you do. You grind, tummy tightening at every brush of the fabric hard and delicious. Your chest constricts, one hand flying up to dig your fingers into his shoulder and the other fighting the hand he has still in your hair. It aches and hurts, and so does the friction as you grow more gaspy and frantic. 

It feels so, so good. You want more—you want him to touch you there and everywhere else. He smells just right all over you, nutty and musky like a gingerbread twist. “Taeh—hyun,” you mewl. It burns, but something slick eases the burn a little bit. Just enough for you to enjoy that burn.

“That’s it,” he coos. It’s not a sweet coo; it’s the type of sound one might make when you play right into their mean game. It’s mean. “Make yourself a mess on my thigh. I don’t even have to touch you. What would mommy and daddy think of you now, huh? What would they think if they saw their precious princess fucking herself on my thigh?”

No. That would be the end of you. You whine, thighs twitching. Something twists in your center, scary and foreboding, and still you chase it. None of your thoughts are solid enough to stop. Each time he flexes a muscled thigh or presses it harder into you, you shudder and curl your fingers into his shirt harder. 

“Don’t like that, huh?” he laughs. “Then you haven’t learned your lesson. You’re no better than me; I mean, look at you.”

You want to cry when he pins your hips back to the counter, stilling your wild bucking. Squeezing your eyes shut, you claw and reach for that wave, even as it recedes from you. “Why?” you say, voice thin. It’d been so yummy—the sweetness still rests on your tongue. Your heart thumps hard, longing for it.

“I said, look at yourself,” he growls, taking his hold on your hair to crank your head down.

Right where you’d been on his thigh, there’s a sticky, marshmallowy mess. Your mess. 

Taehyun releasing his grip on your hair is almost a relief, but he doesn’t even give you time to relish it. The walls of his house blur around you. All that you register in between the motions is his shoulder in your belly and your limbs dangling from you. You dig your hands into his back to balance yourself, but he’s got you.

He has you slung over his shoulder. He’s carrying you like you weigh nothing at all. That place between your thighs flutters anew. In all your life, you never worried too much about the plushness of your belly or your thighs. It is who you are; all mallow and soft around the edges and starkly sweet. But you did get nervous when somebody tried picking you up. Usually, you protest and giggle it off. Watching somebody strain to pick you up when they lift other girls like sacks of flour is just something that makes you feel a little strange.

But, Taehyun does not strain. He doesn’t huff; he carries you right down the hallway and into his room, and he even manhandles you down onto the bed with a bounce without so much as a sound. He is a solid pillar beneath you, and then he is a solid, muscled chest above you. With strong fingers, he pins your hands to the mattress above you. With the other, he leads your shirt up.

He’s so warm against your cold skin. His breath like waves from the oven over your mouth, he says, “You think you’re so much better than me because you have all this?” Curling his fingers around a necklace circling your throat, he tears it off with a clattering of a few snow-drop beads.

 You gasp, glaring right into his eyes. “What the hell?” you hiss, arching your chest to wiggle beneath him. Your necklace. Who does he think he is, breaking your stuff? That was one of your favorite necklaces, and now it lies all over his floor. Still, your center pounds and longs for the return of his touch. Everything about him just calls for more from you. You don’t know how you went so long without him, or how you made yourself forget just how drawn you are to his magnetism. Maybe he is just what your parents turn their nose up at, and you too, but that does not make him any less a powerful personality. 

He knows exactly who he is and what he wants, as solid as the gingerbread cookie. And you, plush and impressionable as whipped marshmallows, take to him just right. It’s something you once knew, but the sneered words of adults obscured that memory.

“Don’t whine,” he says. “I want to see your pretty neck without all that shit. That’s your problem: you’re spoiled.” He reaches down to mess with his pants.

His length springs free. Cheeks flushing, you take it in. You can’t look away, even as embarrassment crawls spindly legs over your skin at the interest you take in the sight. You’ve never seen anything like it—long and hot and weeping something thick and white from the slit at the pinkish tip. A pearl of it dribbles down, landing on your belly in a string where he holds it.

Taehyun collects that wetness and then urges more from the tip with a few drags down the length of it. Wrapping his fingers around it, he begins to slowly work his fist up and down it. It’s nothing short of impossible to tear your sights off it—it’s another thing that inexplicably fans the flames of something roaring in your center. “Do you want to touch it?” he says, watching your tongue dart out to wet your lips. 

The sight of him growing restless over his pumping fist is enough to get you nodding. 

“Fuck,” he says, sharp and under his breath. He lets his hand off it. “Go ahead. Touch it. I won’t tell anybody you did.”

When he frees your pinned wrists, you reach out a slow hand. You curl your fingers around it the way he had. Around it, your fingers don’t even touch. The weight and warmth of it make your blood tingle. Looking up, you search for guidance in those intelligent, swirling eyes. His bangs hang over his eyes as he watches.

Placing his hand over yours, he drags your hand up and down his rigid length the way he had. “Like that,” he says. “Just like that.”

You pump your closed fist up and down him, encouraged to squeeze harder and flick your wrist faster with each tight breath he lets slip. The skin of your palm gets stickier and stickier, the slick sounds making your ears and core burn just the same. You like that it makes him feel good—that he’s making those noises just for you. 

It twitches under your fingers. “Feels just like I thought your pretty hands would…” he says, stomach tight. “See—what happens when you give up that bratty fucking act? Shit… harder—give it to me harder, Frosty…” Shivering at the name, you oblige him. You reach your thumb up and collect more of that beaded liquid from the slit, and you work your arm harder. Faster. Your forearm begins to burn, but you don’t let it slow you. All you want is more of this; more of him. Finally, he lets sounds out from his chest freely. He grunts and hisses through his teeth, letting his head fall back. “Holy shit. I’m gonna—gonna ice your face, okay?” he says. “You said you liked the taste, huh? Wanna taste it again? Give me your tongue…”

Whatever that means, you push yourself up and situate your face in front of his length, your tongue out. Taehyun’s sounds tighten, and his hips begin to stutter and chase your hand. He picks his head back up to look down at you half-lidded—to watch. With only a few last runs of your palm down his length, skin so slick that your hand just slips and slides up him, he growls through gritted teeth. The weight of him in your working hand twitches once more, and from that weeping tip he shoots dancing ribbons of white. It lands on your tongue hot and sweet, melting out all spiced and snappy.

Snappy like gingerbread. Like gingerbread icing. Swallowing it down, you meet his gaze. He pants, chest rising and falling, but there’s something clear and knowing in his heavy eyes when you do. You think you know now, why he’d been so dazed as you made a show of licking that same sticky icing off your hands and said how good it tasted. 

When you release him from your palm, it glistens with his sweet essence. He softens in front of your eyes just the littlest bit.

Eyes just as hungry and still catching his breath, Taehyun says, “Open your mouth. I wanna see your tongue.”

Belly doing wicked twists, you do. You stick your tongue out for him, still laden with the headiness of his taste. He does taste good. 

“Swallowed it all down?” he says, eating the sight of you with your mouth dropped open up. “You really are so nasty. They all think you’re so sweet—you think you’ve got them all wrapped around your finger.” He pushes you back down to the bed with a palm. “Well, not me. I know that you’re just as filthy as you are spoiled. Somebody had to deal with you.”

Like always, snarky words swirl in your mouth. All it would take is letting them fall off your tongue. But you don’t—not with the feeling between your thighs, and not with the way your blood, frost turned to snowmelt, begs for him to fix it. Not when you know that all it will get you is more of Taehyun’s wrath. 

It’s not like what he says is true, or anything. That’s what you tell yourself anyway.

“Taehyun, please. I need it…” He takes a marshmallow thigh of yours, pressing it up so that it melds with your belly. Cool air reminds you once more of that strange wetness between them.

Dark, blown eyes catching the sight of it, his lips quirk into a scoff. “Need what?” he says, reaching a hand down. At the contact of his fingers, just as they had against his thigh, your hips jolt and an explosion like the breaking of sugar glass shoots down the muscles of your thighs. He scoops that stickiness up from its source, bringing the soft cream up to his mouth. Tongue darting out, he has a taste of you just as you had tasted him. “Shit—you taste good too, frosty. You’re so sweet, how’d you turn out like this? That’s okay. I’ll deal with you, and then you’ll be just as sweet as you taste.” That fat tip of him presses flush to the source of all your want. “I’ll straighten you out.”

You don’t know what means, and you are absolutely sure that you don’t deserve it, but any sass is staunched with the utter sweetness of the stretch in your center. Taehyun presses his hips up into you, slowly and internalizing the dropping open of your mouth, the pinching of your brows into a worrying line, and the press of your palms to his broad chest. He takes it and metabolizes it down like cream cake or the plumpest fruits, and he gives you more. More, all the way up until there is no length of him left to give, and nowhere else for him to go.

You feel so, so full. No amount of twinkling jewels or new skirts hold a candle to this. You don’t know what it is, and you don’t know why Taehyun knows, but whatever. Who cares? Breathing out a shudder, you squirm beneath him to search for that dazzling feeling he’d made you feel earlier.

“Stay still,” he barks, steadying himself beside your head with a sturdy, powerful arm. When had he lost his sweater? You don’t know. You might drool over the definition and warm skin there if he didn’t pull the length of him out until just the tip of him threatens to pop out, and then drive right back in before you could. A gaspy breath falls from your mouth, devolving into mewls and whimpers when he does the same over and over and over again, quick with snapping hips and the smacking of his skin against the soft skin of your bottom. Your thigh quivers in his hold, his fingers digging into the fluff of your thigh as he holds you into it. 

Each and every time he slides up against something inside you that makes you feel different. Different from what you felt when you were on his thigh, and different from anything else you’ve felt in the entirety of your life. It’s deeper, right at the very bottom of your belly, sending your veins lazy and your hips twitchy. You want to chase it as much as you want to hide from its power, so all you do is stay in a hazy limbo of sharp gasps and long, drawn out mewls for more.

“No,” he says, his face right in yours. The smell of him, manly and so very sweet like oven-warmed gingerbread, settles over your bones and wiggles its way through your thoughts. It does something to your melted mind, planting a need to cling to him right in the center. Your hands perch all over him: the hair at the back of his head, his working waist, his biceps that flex and strain with his effort, and finally around him so that you can push your cheek to his chest and feel his heart racing there. “You’ll take exactly what I give, and thank me for it. You don’t get to ask for more; not with your mouth.”

“Why?” you say, whining. “I want it—so bad. Please? I’ll be so… so good…” Your voice bounces with each collision of your bodies, and your toes flex and curl at the twisting in your core. Nonetheless, you want more. Whatever this is—this syrupy, pure goodness—Taehyun has shown you something that you will never be whole without again. He has bloomed a flower right in the chest of you, something hungry that will want and want this, and you fear that he will be the only one able to satiate it. 

The thought of the smile he’ll wear, should you come crawling back to his doorstep just for this… 

Taehyun stops, pushing off you with a curled lip. “What will it take to get you to fucking listen?” he says. He pulls himself from you, leaving you to whine and long for that feeling once more. You want to complain and pull him back over you, but with the fire churning in his dark gaze and the sight of his length, covered in that same white, whipped stuff you’d left all over his thigh. 

You’d made a sticky, frosty, frothed mess all over him once again. Really, what would people think of you now? Your mom? Your dad? 

Manhandling you again, he flips you onto your hands and knees and shoves your face into the bed. Any yelp or gasp that tears from your chest is muffled into the sheets. Taking the swell of your hips, his fingers like bites against the powdery, soft skin there, his voice comes from behind you. “Won’t you just listen to me? If you’re gonna be mine, you’re gonna have to start learning how to hear no.” Curling your hair up and pulling it like a handle, he snaps your head back into another stinging, awful tug. It turns the arch of your back into something that you can imagine is a sight to be seen. If the burning where you feel his eyes raking down the curve of it has something to speak of it, that is. You squeeze your eyes shut as if that’ll help you any. “You don’t get everything you want. That’s not how this works.”

You don’t say anything. You have nothing good or sweet left to say.

“Say thank you, and I’ll give it to you good, okay?” he says, running a flattened hand down your spine. “That’s all I want to hear. Show me you can be good.”

The last thing you want to do is to thank him. That would mean admitting that you’ve lost, and that ruffles your preening feathers. But you want that goodness back, you want his hips snapping into you and that tight knot back in your belly. You’d do anything for it; even forget your ego.

Your mind is gone, anyway. Whatever your rational self would do, it doesn’t matter. There’s one thing that you want right now, and getting it is so easy. “Thank you, Taehyun. Thank you so much… I’m sorry I’ve been a brat, and I’m sorry about what I said to you. Please, just… help me. Please, I need you so bad.”

You? Sorry? It’s absurd, and yet, you entirely mean it. Maybe it’s your lazy brain talking, or maybe he really has won.

“See? So sweet when you act right,” he says. “Let me show you what happens when you do.”

You could cry real tears when he sets that same pace, his hands bracing on your hips to pull you deeper into each thrust and the front of your body bouncing against the sheets with each. Your cries grow hoarse and beyond needy, and your insides twist and turn even more dangerously.

You are on the brink of something divine. Something that will melt down so well, good on the tongue and as smooth as chocolate, but as sharp as the snapping of gingerbread.

And, snap, he has.

“Yes!” you cry, straining your shoulders as you reach behind you and curl your fingers around the place where he meets your skin. “S..So good! Right there—thank you, Taehyun!”

He doubles down on you. His length hits a spongy spot in your core, pounding up against the walls there and turning your insides against you. It’s almost too good. “There we go,” he says, voice shaking with a growl. The delivery of his thrusts grows sloppy. You think he feels just as good as you do. “That’s what—” Falling over you, he supports himself with each strong arm dug into the mattress beside your head, his solid front melded to your soft back. “That’s what I like to hear. Here you go—fuck, I’m gonna give you what good girls get, okay?”

You hope it’s more of that melty icing he shot from his length earlier. The knot in your belly tightens, just on the brink of a glittery, bright explosion. “Mhm!” you say, your voice cracking. You want it—you want it so bad. The intensity of it, turning over in your veins and rendering your thighs jelly, sings in your ears. It’s a frightening greatness, but you rage against the urge to drop your hips into the mattress and run from it. You need to finally taste what you’ve been chasing. “Taehyun! Right there—please, don’t stop!”

You were demanding more from him again, but Taehyun didn’t stop this time. Not when his growls and whines against your shoulder tell you enough about how he’s feeling. He tongues and nips at your shoulders, the only sounds echoing off the walls of his room, the hollow smack of his hips against your bottom, and the only smell of the sweet mingling of his gingerbread sharpness against your heady marshmallow. It’s good enough to eat.

Crying out with a frantic whine, the feeling deep in your belly changes once more, and you’re writhing and squirming against him. Your hips buck and chase and run, wild and just as explosively as the tightness shooting down your thighs and up through your lower back.

Everywhere. You feel it everywhere. It’s in the continued bouncing of your body, in each nudge of his tip to a sweet, spongecake spot deep inside you, in his breathless pants into your skin, and in the curling of his fingers into your hair when he releases a hip to do so, and in your pleads when he chases his own delicious release. Your throat tightens, and suddenly the sheets are all too warm around you, and you realize with blistering intensity that another one of those knots builds up in your belly. It’s quicker, short, and bright. You’ve barely even made it through the last, but still, it comes.

“Holy shot,” he growls, hips stuttering and then stilling. He reaches a hand down between your thighs and finds a very sweet button. The breath in your throat catches, and in nothing more than a blink of an eye, you crash again, and then your bodies are two twitching, elated things. He presses himself impossibly deeper into you before shooting that same hotness, sweet ropes of sugary icing right into you, and your fluttering insides hold him tight and eat it up. Your heart pounds in your chest, running amok in your ears and your neck, and you try to catch running breaths to no avail.

Occasionally grinding up into you, though there is hardly any space between your joined bodies to do so, Taehyun shoots more lazy spurts for a few long moments. His breaths slow against your skin, and yours do in your chest. Slowly, you recover as two entangled bodies, all clammy and melted like left in the oven for a bit too long.

Pressing hot, wet kisses to the back of your neck, and then down your spine when he pushes off you and pulls himself out, his tongue darting out against your skin for some, he says, “Taste so good… So sweet, even on your skin…” He brushes the wild tangles of hair from your face and adds, “I wonder if you’ve gone all sweet inside, too? You look like it…” The mess of you, your thick creaminess staining your thighs and his runny load pooling from your hole, is all over. It even makes the sheets beneath you dirty with dribbles of his release as it drips. “I told you I’d get you sweet.”

If that sluggish, sugary thing moving through your veins is sweetness taking over you from the inside, perhaps you have gone sweet. Or, perhaps you now have every reason to become his worst nightmare—just if it gets you this.

You’ll play sweet for now. The softer kisses he seasons your skin with are no less enthralling than the delightful goodness still ebbing away between your thighs. You think that, for the first time, you have lost. 

And, to your very own dismay, it tastes so very sweet. 

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

✎୭ ashlynn's note BRAT TAMER TAEHUN, amirite?

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[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Heyyy! I had this rlly funny idea but the TF 141 separately (and maybe König, you can decide if you add him w/ the 141 fellas or not) with a reader that's like 4'11-5'4 (maybe shorter) who's really sassy and a big smart mouth, but is just so sweet to them, but will absolutely bite someone's head off if they tried something (they do say dynamite comes in small packages lol) I hope ur having a good day and if you don't wanna do this u can ignore meeee luv ur work <3

Small but Mighty

Pairing: Task Force 141 + König x Short Sassy Protective Reader

Warnings: Strong language, threats of violence (but mostly comedic), reader is a menace but soft for the boys, fluff, crack, mild innuendos, reader is short but acts like a guard dog.

Author’s Note: I relate to this, I’m short and sassy so this request was so fun. I loved it so much-

Summary: You may be small, but your attitude is huge. You’re fiercely loyal to the team, the first to bite someone’s head off if they so much as look at them wrong. But with the boys? You’re their sweet, doting little powerhouse—when you’re not threatening to fight them for teasing you, of course.

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon first met you during a mission briefing, and it was like watching a rabid chihuahua getting ready to tear into someone. You were barely scraping 5’2” in combat boots, standing next to a man twice your size who had just questioned your skills.

"Listen here, you oversized fuckin’ tree stump," you snapped, arms crossed as you glared up at the guy. "I may be small, but I can still take you down in two moves, so shut your damn mouth before I put you on your ass."

Ghost, standing behind you, simply tilted his head in mild amusement. He expected the guy to laugh in your face. Instead, the man hesitated, clearing his throat before muttering something about just joking.

That was when Ghost knew you were dangerous.

But what surprised him even more? How goddamn sweet you were to him.

"Si, did you eat today?" you asked one evening after a mission, voice softer than usual. You were sitting beside him, legs tucked beneath you, hands busy cleaning your weapons.

Ghost barely had time to answer before you shoved a protein bar into his hand.

"Eat. Now."

He looked down at the snack, then back at you, unimpressed.

"You’re bossy for someone I could put in my pocket."

You scowled, jabbing a finger at him. "And you are grumpy for someone who clearly needs food."

Despite himself, he found himself smirking beneath his mask. He peeled open the wrapper, taking a bite while you nodded in satisfaction, muttering, "Damn right."

Yeah. You were something else.

——

John "Soap" MacTavish

Soap loved that you were a walking contradiction. One second you were cussing someone out for looking at him wrong, the next you were fixing his hair with the gentleness of a mother hen.

He thrived off riling you up.

"Oi, short stack," he called one day, smirking as you turned around, already glaring.

"What did you just call me?" you demanded, hands on your hips.

"Short stack," he repeated, grinning. "Like a pancake. Wee but fiery."

You stomped right up to him and jabbed a finger into his chest. "Listen here, Johnny, I may be short, but I can still take you—"

Before you could finish your sentence, he scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder.

You let out an indignant screech, kicking your legs wildly. "PUT ME DOWN, YOU MUSCLE-BRAINED MANWHORE."

Soap was cackling, patting your thigh. "You’re cute when you’re angry."

"I’M GONNA KILL YOU."

He eventually set you down after getting a few light punches to his back. But later that evening, when you checked in on him, making sure he was hydrating, making sure his injuries were tended to, he couldn’t help but grin.

You were his little menace, and he wouldn’t trade you for the world.

——

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Gaz thought you were the funniest person alive. He wasn’t sure how so much attitude could be packed into someone your size, but it worked.

Especially when you went feral on his behalf.

It happened at a bar, where a stranger had started getting way too handsy with Gaz. You, standing nearby, immediately clocked the situation and marched over, eyes blazing.

Gaz barely had time to react before you inserted yourself between him and the stranger, glaring up at the taller man like a pissed-off gremlin.

"Take your hands off him before I break all ten of your fingers," you snapped.

The man blinked. "And who the hell are you—"

You grabbed the dude’s wrist. Twisted just enough to make a point.

"I said," you growled, voice low, "take. Your hands. Off."

The guy yanked his hand back and bolted.

Gaz just stared at you, shook. "Damn," he muttered. "Didn’t know I had my own personal attack dog."

You turned to him, smile sickly sweet. "Only for you, babe."

The whiplash was insane. But he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

——

Captain John Price

Price thought you were adorable.

He’d never say that to your face—he valued his life too much—but he thought it.

You had this habit of defending him when you thought someone was being disrespectful.

One day, some new recruit made the mistake of talking back to him. Before Price could even react, you stepped up, arms crossed, expression like a storm cloud.

"That’s Captain Price to you," you said coolly. "Show some respect before I have to teach it to you."

The recruit, visibly confused about being threatened by someone a foot shorter than him, just mumbled an apology and scurried off.

Price chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re a menace."

You shrugged. "Just looking out for my old man."

His eyebrow twitched. "Old?"

You grinned up at him, innocent as a damn angel.

He sighed. You were gonna be the death of him.

——

König

König was, at first, terrified of accidentally crushing you. You barely reached his chest, and he swore you had to be some kind of mythical creature because how could something so small be so loud?

But then he saw you threaten someone for him.

It was during a mission when someone made a snide remark about his size, thinking he couldn’t hear. You did, though.

"Hey, dipshit," you snapped, whirling around. "Say that again, I fucking dare you."

The guy stammered, confused. "What—"

"You heard me. You got something to say about König? Say it to my face."

The man immediately backed down.

König stared at you, stunned. "You… defended me?"

You turned to him, expression soft. "Course I did, big guy. Nobody talks shit about my team."

His brain short-circuited.

Later, you noticed him being extra gentle with you, like you were something precious.

"König," you asked, squinting up at him.

"Yes, kleine maus?"

"…Are you petting my head?"

"Ja."

You sighed. "Fine. But only because you’re my favorite giant."

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[suntoru]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ “YOU… CAN’T WALK?” *ੈ✩‧₊˚

summary: after a night of… suspicious activities, you find that your body is rendered useless!! how does your boyfriend react??

feat. diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, childe, kazuha kaedehara, scaramouche, xiao, ayato, al-haitham, kaveh

a/n: blue balled </3

warnings: heavily suggestive however no explicit smut, minors get tf out /lh <33, innuendos, fluff, mentions of “girlie” in childe’s, basically after aftercare

─ ✰ DILUC is highkey embarrassed about not being able to resist his urges, so much so that you’re in pain because of him. he apologizes profusely and is so guilty that he hurt you 😭😭 you’ll have to reassure him that you’re alright, but that you just need some extra help getting around today or for the next week. he’ll be your majestic horse for as long as you need him to. need to go to the bathroom? he’ll carry you to and from, waiting for you to be done outside of the door. hungry? he’s already got adelinde cooking something up for you. thirsty? he just bought thirty different flavours of herbal tea. he treats all the love bites he’s given you and iced the bruises on your legs, looking up for your reaction each time. a friend of yours asked why your legs were so shaky and you couldn’t walk, and his face exploded into a bright shade of red, making it obvious that your… nighttime activities were the cause.

─ ✰ KAEYA’S your knight in shining armour, although sometimes you may want to smack his head. oh, he’ll help you alright, but at the cost of your dignity. he’s carrying you bridal-style in his arms, which may sound wholesome, but the things he’s whispering in your ear are clearly not. turning bright red, you nuzzle your head further in his chest to prevent him from looking at you. cute. he chuckles at your reaction, pressing a soft kiss to your head before gently placing you in the bath. the warm water helps your muscles relax more, easing up the tension from your legs. you sigh in relief, sinking further into the bathtub as he scrubs the soap out of your hair. you shiver when he blows over your hickeys, deliberately trying to rile you up. this time, you won’t give him what he wants, though. you flip over on your side, turning away from him with what little self-respect you have left. but it all leaves your body when he leans in closer. “easy there princess, being a brat is what got you here in the first place.”

─ ✰ CHILDE, quite like his name suggests, is a literal child. you thought kaeya was bad? well, this giant man baby wants you to flaunt off your hickeys and bruises to the whole world, he wants everyone to know you’re his and his alone. his teasing is x10000 times stronger than normal, he has no basic decency 💀💀 will make you ask for his help to inflate his ego, at this point just get up and leave </3 when you try to angrily glare at him, it comes off as more of a sad pout, so he caves and scoops you up in his arms like a kid. “aww, is my favourite baby coochie coo girlie okay? don’t worry, daddy’s here-” please smack the living shit out of him, if you don’t he’ll continue to baby and coo at you for the rest of the day. don’t even try to complain to him about the marks, he’ll just add more until he’s satisfied 😬 oh, and one last piece of advice? don’t let him see you in his shirt unless you’re looking to get wrecked (again), he’ll go absolutely feral.

─ ✰ KAZUHA, let’s be real, would be so soft and loving that you wouldn’t have any bruises and i stand this with my life 😤 but for the purpose of the plot, let’s pretend he did. out of everyone, he’s the most delicate with you. he’s so gentle and careful carrying you like you could break at any moment, whispering one of his poems quietly and humming underneath his breath. if you’re hungry, he makes his specialty dish, spoon feeds you everything, even tipping the water cup up so you can drink from it. he gives you so much love and reassurance it makes your heart absolutely melt 🥺🥺 he kisses each mark he made on your body, whispering “beautiful” each time :,) a tear slips by your eye, never has anyone treated you with such care before him. he wipes it away and pulls you close, making sure not to hurt you accidentally, and utters endless sweet nothings. in his eyes, you are a perfect creation, and he can’t thank the heavens enough that you are his. his muse, his love, forever <3.

─ ✰ SCARAMOUCHE, this bitch, thinks you’re being dramatic when you say in a scratchy voice that you can’t walk. he tells you to just get over it, and when you get pissed and try to walk away from him, your legs fail you and you brace yourself for the impact, but it never comes. his arms are hooked above yours, effectively saving you from crashing down and causing further damage. you angrily yank your arm back, telling him to leave, but he only pulls you up closer into his arms. he wraps your legs around his hips as he holds your waist, cursing something under his breath. he places you onto the couch as you turn away from him in a huff. “are you just going to ignore me?” silence. “fine. be like that then.” silence again. “…i’m …sorry. i didn’t mean it.” you turn back around, and he’s squatting on the ground with his head twisted so you can’t see his face. he moves away quickly, flustered by your gaze, and leaves the room for a minute. when he comes back, he’s holding some warm tea for your throat. needless to say, he pampers you for the rest of the day.

─ ✰ XIAO thinks you’re seriously ill when you almost tumble out of bed and land smack dab on the floor. you’ll have to explain to him why your legs aren’t exactly working, and when he does… flustered beyond relief. when he takes a closer look at you, he notices your body is full of love marks and bruises around your thighs. in the moment, he may have forgotten how fragile humans could be. he thinks he’s broken you, and he’s genuinely concerned for you 💀 you might have to direct him on how to help you, but once he gets the hang of it, he’ll do the best he can. unlike how he wields his spear, he’s delicate and graceful. he might be rough around the edges, but he’s trying, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t need him to carry you for the rest of your life, not when he cocks his head and looks at you questioningly when you don’t climb on his back. as an apology for temporarily immobilizing you, he brings you a qingxing flower and shares his almond tofu with you. honestly, what more could you ask for 😻?

─ ✰ AYATO is actual husband material <33 he’s already prepared for this for some reason 🤨 as soon as you wake up, any punishments you may have received have been treated and wrapped up carefully. a fresh pitcher of water is there for you, and by the looks of it, a bath is running. but none of it interests you if ayato isn’t there with you. carefully, with the help of thoma, you are able to wobble to the room ayato is in, concentrated on his paperwork. hobbling towards him, he pushes his chair back so you can sit on his lap. pressing a kiss to your cheek, he brushes the hair out of your face, “darling, you should be resting. i ran a bath for you, is everything okay? are you sore anywhere?” “can you come join me? please?” you beg, putting on the cutest pout you can manage. “if you can wait ten minutes until i’m done.” internally, you sigh, but you patiently sit on his lap and wait until he’s finished. ah, but don’t worry, the reward is definitely worth it. he kneads through all the sore spots, applies all your skincare, and changes your clothes. later, you do matching face masks 💗

─ ✰ AL-HAITHAM was probably prepared for this, he read hundreds of books about human reproduction 💀 he notes all the side effects you seem to have: a scratchy throat, unstable legs, exhaustion… he saves it for the next time you have… physical activities. he remembers an article he read on how to take care of your significant other after intercourse, and follows that. he makes homemade soup to soothe your throat, which he watches over you as you drink. he also forces you to take naps, he’ll read “the control politicians have over our daily lives” just to make you fall asleep. he’ll get your groceries, take out your trash, and do your work so you can focus on relaxing, all with a stoic face. if anyone asks him where you are, he’ll just give an obvious lie with a straight face 💀💀 “y/n is out collecting a census right now.” “but they told me they were sick?” normally his lies are flawless, but when it’s about you… his mind doesn’t function properly. but if you absolutely need to get somewhere, you’re going to have to ask him. last time, he locked kaveh out of the dorm for 48 hours for helping you get a book from the library because he fell asleep 💀

─ ✰ KAVEH’S face is the first thing you see when you wake up. jumpscare warning sir he’s hovering over you, observing your face. immediately after he sees that you are awake comes the barrage of questions. “my love, are you all right? i wasn’t too rough, was i?” he’s such a simp i could never see him being rough he dramatically gasps when he sees your shaky legs, pretending to be shocked, but he’s slightly happy that this means you’ll have to cling onto him for the whole day. but oh my, both of you still have work!! whatever shall you do? it seems like the only solution is for him to take you everywhere… he proudly parades you around the akademiya, much to the embarrassment of you. but there’s nothing you can really do, not when you can’t run away, so you bury your head in his back to avoid the judging gazes of the other scholars. kaveh shoots a smug grin to an uncaring al haitham, who probably knows and heard everything from last night💀💀

©hawkssimpsblog 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[hungharrington]

Steve realizing his gf is stressed and forcing her to take a mid day break and she's just like babe I'm not in the mood and he's like ok let's take a break for 5 min a mere 5 min like u can def afford that and she's like fine and she sets a timer but by the time the 5 min r up Steve is already eating her out and he's like the timer is up and she's so into in and forgotten that she's like the what?? And Steve just chuckles smugly and goes back down

bro.... did u send this cos u know i've been stressed with grad school??? either way YUM i ate it tf up this was delicious thank you for gracing my inbox with it <3 fem!reader, 1.2k, MDNI this entire blog is 18+

As Steve sets his watch, your thoughts drift to the assignment sitting on your desk, due by the end of the week.

You really shouldn't be taking a break — you're not sure you can actually afford to. Well, your stress certainly makes it feel that way.

But Steve had badgered you lovingly with his wandering hands around your waist, fingers skirting beneath your shirt, and his hot kiss mouthing softly against your neck.

You probably shouldn't be taking a break but also, you're only human. Steve knows just how to press your buttons.

"I've set the timer," Steve murmurs, his voice somewhere behind you on the bed. His big hands smooth up your calves, pressing in his adoring intent. You can't see the heavy-lidded gaze he has, betraying a different intent. "Five minutes, okay?

"Okay," You agree tiredly, voice muffled into the pillow of your bed. "Work your magic, babe."

You're laying on your front, face pressed into pillow, your arms caged around your head. You're well and truly enjoying a moment to rest your eyes and you're betting it'll only get better when Steve starts his massage.

I mean, that's what you expect he meant when he begged you to let him 'help you relax' for five minutes.

Steve makes a little amused noise from behind you, fully intending on working a certain kind of magic.

His hands continue their slow peruse, his fingers spread wide and exploring the expanse of your thighs as they continue to slide up. He presses and soothes the muscles, getting you more relaxed with each touch. You huff a little sigh into the pillow, eyes sliding closed, and your body grows more pliant.

His hands keep moving up, up, up, until the fabric of your skirt is getting bunched up beneath them. Something nervous rises in your chest at the sudden new display of skin. Still, you don't move, almost eager to see what he does next.

Your face is still hidden away in the pillow when his hands begin to knead the skin where your thigh meets your ass. A soft, pleased noise wiggles loose in your chest.

Then—a ghost of a touch pulls a sudden small gasp from your lungs. A finger drags down the centre of your panties, just the slightest pressure.

"Yeah?" Steve probes gently, his voice low and raspy. The weight of his finger remains but he doesn't move it, waiting for your answer.

You're in two minds about it for only a split-second before your hair scrunches up as you nod your head against the pillow. The finger moves again, drawing down to trace over your clit lightly. Your face simmers with heat, even if you've done much nastier things with Steve before.

"Good girl," Steve praises. "Letting herself relax,"

His words sink into you, sweet as honey and warm as a sunbeam. Something twists low in your stomach and you have to resist the urge to readjust your thighs. If your face was simmering before, it's burning now.

Steve's hands move with a precision of well-known love. He knows what you like and he knows exactly how to get you riled up.

"Been working so hard, baby," He murmurs. "Know you have."

He continues his absentminded massage, hands rubbing and kneading the flesh of your ass. One finger always remains pressed against your core, petting against your slowly dampening panties in a way that makes you want to quiver. You bury your stuttering breaths into the pillow beneath you.

"Y'stop taking care of yourself, don't you?" You can barely focus on the questions as they drift out of Steve's mouth. Your eyes are closed again but this time in that growing lull of pleasure that's building up within you. "That's why I'm here though, isn't it? To help my girl relax,"

The damp spot on your panties grows under Steve's masterful strokes and soon, it's wet and sticky. You can't help but wonder if they're translucent but now—fuck, what pair are you even wearing? The thought melts away as Steve's skillful thumb finds your clit and draws a perfect circle around it, teasing you in just the way you like.

"Feelin' more relaxed?" Steve asks. You can't tell if you're imagining the smug tone in his voice but either way, he's a bastard for touching your clit and asking you a question at the same time.

You open your mouth to give an answer and let out a pitiful moan instead.

Glorious heat flames your face but you can't help how it fuels your mounting lust. He's driving you insane with these little touches.

"Good girl," Steve coos, as if your moan is the perfect answer to his question. You make another pathetic noise in response, feeling your hips rock back, desperate for a little more friction.

A disappointed whine creeps out when the touch is suddenly gone and Steve chuckles at the sound of it. "Won't be long, honey. Can you prop these up for me please?"

His hands have shifted, spread across to hold your hips lightly. You kick your legs up without question, enough to move them up, elevating your hips off the bed just barely.

Steve still gives you as praising noise, running his hands down your ass reverently. "That's it, baby. Doin' so good for me, aren't you?"

You're beyond words at this point so you answer him with another pitiful whimper. It's heaven to Steve's ears.

You hear the comforter on the bed rustle as Steve readjusts behind you and get all of a few seconds to wonder what before the heat of his breath ghosts along your inner thigh. Your tummy twists up in anticipation and you clench without thinking.

Steve chuckles again, his hands landing delicately on your either side of your hips once more.

He moves to grip a cheek in each hand and a lust-tinged embarrassment burns your face as he spreads you, your sopping cunt on display, shielded only by your soaked panties. A soft groan of appreciation pulls from his throat without permission.

"God, look at you," He murmurs.

One of his thumbs dips in, pressing beneath the elastic of your panties and moving to pull them to the side. A string of slick sticks to them and Steve groans again as he watching, this time louder. "Fuck, baby, you're soaked. Look at you, practically cryin' for it, aren't you?"

You whimper into the pillow, breath held as you wait in agony for Steve to do anything.

Faintly behind you, there's a small beep of a watch. Steve makes a disgruntled noise and shuffles for a moment, til the beeping stops.

"Five minutes, honey." He says, that almost smug tone to his words once more.

The words reach your ears but mean almost nothing to you. You have to resist the urge to arch your back and whine for him to keep going. But Steve won't have said that for nothing.

"W-What?" You manage to say, the word muffled into the pillow.

"Never mind, baby," He says, words dripping in a smugness that only drives up your body temperature. Your nipples peak in response and you feel your cunt aching for some touch. Steve obliges almost instantly, his thumb tracing down your folds. "Don’t worry bout it. You just sit there and take it like a good girl."

[imjustdelusionalok]

yandere dc: cam girl! reader

˖𓍢ִִ໋𓇼think about it though, a darling who does r18 stuff on the internet either because they're bored or they just want money.

˖𓍢ִִ໋𓇼knowing how many perverts are on the internet, our witty girl uses that to her advantage! (especially knowing that she has a few stalkers that clearly doesnt need ALL of that money in her eyes...)

˖𓍢ִִ໋𓇼one word about this falls from your nonchalant lips as you tell this to your friends, and their mouths are agape and so are the weirdly familiar people at the back who are deeply concerned dressed up so much for some reason! :D

˖𓍢ִִ໋𓇼and of course it continues with you pulling out a box of newly bought 'equipment' with a brand new camera for that HD quality goodness, and you grin fiendishly as a result. your friends warn you and call you dumb as sh*t for doing what your about to do but that's okay in your eyes.

"relax girls <3"

"tf? how we supposed to relax if you're gonna be showing your ass off on the internet?--"

"but seriously (Name), we're worried. what if there's a creep out there and their really--'

"chill you two, that's too wild, i know how to handle myself >:3"

˖𓍢ִִ໋𓇼they DON'T... trust your judgement. but they'll keep an eye on you just in case since besties look out for each other forever <3

˖𓍢ִִ໋𓇼a month has passed and woah... being an 'artist' of sorts is quite the hardwork. your 'viewers' are demanding, but so are those cash donations that keep flooding in your comments section. so you keep on spreading those thighs of yours to them, alright? <3

˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸

'$100 from Jay_B1RD'

'$100 from DAM1_W'

'$100 from C.K3NT'

'$100 from W4llYW3sT'

'$100 from AR$3N4L'

'$10 from 1MPulS3'

'1MPulS3: sorry thats all i got-- 😭'

'In3rt1@: you're pathetic, Allen.'

'$100 from In3rt1@'

'$100 from BlUB33Tl3'

'BlUB33Tl3: aint no way we got bart's evil twin donating money on a porn site before gta6-- 💀💀'

'$100 from DA_BEAST'

'DA_BEAST: stfu jaime your one to talk 😭'

'$100 from DrizzyDrake'

'$1000 from GR4YS0N_68'

'GR4YS0N_68: Put on the bunny ears and smile for me sweetie <33'

you nod dazedly at the camera, and wore the floppy little bunny ears while finishing it off with a lopsided smile.

'$10000 from GR4YS0N_68'

'C.K3NT: enough about him ill give you 10000 dollars if you show me your tits 😈'

you rub the tips of your index and thumb together.

'C.K3NT: correction, 100000 dollars <3'

you smile to that, and your lacy top accidentally drops as if on cue.

at this point your comment section is struck with ridiculous amounts of unending money donations, while perverse comments continue to rile up and try to out do the other in terms of lewdity and vulgarity.

you sighed, simply content and happy with the everyday good pay... but then you gasp.

'TM_G!nn!S has entered the chat.'

'$1000 from TM_G!nn!S'

'TM_G!nn!S: sorry baby, but this is all i have for now. ill give you your $100000 dollars tom, kay?'

you heart reacted his comment.

'TM_G!nn!S: and to everyone here whose names are Jason, Tim, Damian, and Dick, dad wants you off the website.'

'DrizzyDrake: ...you did not just snitch on us--'

'TM_G!nn!S: i think i just did :3'

'Jay_B1RD: 💔'

'GR4YS0N_68: ...'

'DAM1_W: trip on a rock, mcginnis.'

'TM_G!nn!S: <3'

˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸

(i couldnt help but add terry since hes also a batboy and we need more batmen in the chaosss 😩)

(and also btw, should i also add klarion the witch boy? i think im liking him already after watching young justice 🫣..)

[rainydaygotham]

BE MINE VALENTINE

Dick Grayson x vigilante!reader || 3865 wc

summary: Valentine’s Day with Dickie Bird. And you decide to take the next step in your relationship.

warnings: fem reader, drinking, unprotected penetrative sex

a/n: man i need a cigarette. and more than the couple of drinks had here. reminds me, dont worry about the drinking and driving you know his bikes are souped tf up. autopilot is a given

You glanced at the ticking clock on the wall for the bajillionth time. Still an hour before you got off of work. Still an hour before Dick picks you up and spirits you away on his motorcycle, off into the neon lights of the Gotham nightlife.

You tapped your fingertips on your desk. With the agitating knowledge that he was going to be here soon, you were way too distracted to work anymore. Hopefully your boss doesn’t notice you just fidgeting around and not doing your job.

You let yourself daydream about it while you waited.

The way Dick would roll in, probably dressed in clothes that hug him so nicely thanks to the Waynes’ tailor. The way he’d pull that motorcycle helmet off his head, his fluffy black hair sticking to him with sweat. The way he would toss his head back, giving said sticky hair a run through with his hand. The way his eyes would light up when he sees you stalking towards him. The way Dick would pull you in, his hands naturally going down to grip your hips as he kissed you deeply, not caring if anyone was around—

Bzzt! Your phone buzzed.

Oh, speak of the devil. Dick’s made it to Gotham. The picture he sent you was adorable, a selfie of him smiling wide with Jason and Roy at some bar. Not even close to 5 o’clock yet, mind you, but it’s always good to see Dick with his friends. You’re not entirely sure he has them in Blüdhaven, unfortunately.

Cute, you text him. Don’t have too much fun without me, tho :(

Baby, I could never <3

You looked around the room. Everyone else was focused on actually doing their work, and not up walking around. You could probably get away with it…

After checking one last time to see if the coast was clear, you pulled down your blouse just enough that you could see the top of your breast and just a hint of the Nightwing blue lingerie you were wearing. Tasteful, exciting, just enough to rile him up without actually showing anything Dick wouldn’t want his baby brother to accidentally see when he opened this message willy-nilly.

Want a peek? IMG_214.jpg

Please get off work faster 🥺

Well damn Dick I can’t control time

You smiled at your phone, putting it down before you got caught. Looking at that stupid clock again, it was only 20 past 4:00. Ugh. Fine. Guess you’ll at least pretend to do your job for another half hour or so.

-

After what felt like years, you were finally on the back of Dick’s bike, clinging to him as he races through the streets of Gotham with a practiced ease. You wished you didn’t have this clunky helmet on, so you could nuzzle into the back of his neck. But he insists you wear it. And you do, because it’s nice to have someone care about your safety like that.

The bike rolled to a stop as you pulled into a red light. You were suddenly able to hear the city around you in clarity. So, you dipped closer to Dick’s ear, tapping his shoulder to get his attention.

“Do I get to know where we’re going?”

“Wherever the night takes us,” he said seriously.

“So, you forgot to make any reservations,” you giggled in his ear.

“No,” he said with mock offense, “I just thought we could have a mysterious adventure. It adds to the sexiness,”

You snorted, “Sure,”

Eventually you stopped at an amphitheater, where a local band was playing some good music. Thankfully, Gotham had smiled upon its citizens and granted you a cool, not rainy night. The trees were still lit up with Christmas lights, adding to the normal city glow. All in all, the atmosphere was pretty sexy, you’ll give Dick that.

There were food trucks around, so you picked up a few items to share. Some ‘gourmet’ fries from a truck that only sold fries. Chicken and waffles from a chicken and waffles truck. Boba from a truck selling ‘Mexican-Asian fusion cuisine’, whatever that was. There was pretty good array of foods here.

You settled into the grassy amphitheater seats to eat and enjoy the music serenading you.

It should be absolutely freezing out, but somehow it was only in the 50’s. Still chilly, but all you needed was a sweater. Strange for February. And well, you hadn’t worn a sweater. On purpose. So you were in fact pretty damn cold.

You shivered for a moment, making sure Dick saw but not making it too obvious. Or, at least you thought you weren’t being too obvious. Dick chuckled as he took off his jacket, and put it around your shoulders, just like he always does.

“Hmm, I distinctly remember your closet having more than a few jackets,” he playfully booped your nose with his fingertip, “and yet you always seem to need mine, how is that?”

You smiled guiltily, “Well. Yours are more comfortable, you see,”

“Oh, are they now?”

“Mmmhmm,”

He did have a sweater on underneath, making the jacket overkill considering how hot he normally runs. So clearly he not only wanted but expected you to take the jacket. No guilt on your part at all then.

You sat in the grass, listening to the band and talking about anything and everything for a few hours. Most nights, all you have is Dick’s voice over the phone, so it was nice to have him physically there. You could lean against your boyfriend while he told you about his day, actually feeling his body pressed into yours.

Bittersweet, you believe the word to be. That feeling of being so happy here with Dick that it just made you sad. You wished you could have this all the time, but you don’t. A warm body to cuddle into, not a pillow. A real voice in your ear, not transmitted over telephone airwaves.

Blüdhaven wasn’t far. But goddamn, was it too far.

When you had first met, it was on a weekend when he was in Gotham. Even though you had met in the Batcave, you had no idea he didn’t live here full time. Everyone talked about him constantly like he was there, and you knew he had a room in the manor. You just assumed he wasn’t as into the whole vigilante thing as the rest of them were. It took you a while to realize that he just straight up left town after a mission was over.

And then when you started dating, it was fine. He’d take you out for Friday drinks, and sleep in on Saturdays. You’d partner up on patrols or cases and occasionally he’d take you on Titans missions with him. He made sure you got to spend time together at least once a week, and that had been enough.

But then things got more serious between you two. And suddenly it was Not Enough anymore.

Falling asleep on call wasn’t enough. Good morning texts weren’t enough. Little weekend dates weren’t enough. You needed him with you. You need him close to you all the time, not just some of it.

You’ve been job searching in Büdhaven, but it’s yet to be fruitful. There was also the option of asking him to move back to Gotham, but you weren’t sure he would be keen on that at the moment. But either way, something had to give.

You were going to tell him. You had to tell him. You didn’t want to ruin this sweet Valentine’s Day if he disagreed with you, but you had to tell him tonight.

And now was as good a time as ever, you supposed. You looked over at him, and he was already looking at you. You blushed, the words now dying on your tongue.

“You wanna go get drinks?” he asked, oblivious to your conundrum.

“Uh. Yeah, sure,”

You took his hand as he helped you up. You brushed yourself off before letting him lead you back to where he parked the bike. His hand was always so warm, even in the chilly night air.

Leaving for the bar was smart, actually, since it was well past sundown and it’s not a good idea to be out in the open air like this in the dark. People still did it, of course, that good ol’ fashioned Gothamite spirit coming through. But none of the people choosing to stay sitting in the grass were recognizable public figures like Gotham Prince over here. So moving on to a second location was the natural next step in your night.

Actually nevermind. The lounge Dick took you was probably just as dangerous as staying outside, but he seemed to be very friendly with the owner, so maybe it’s fine. Probably.

You were ushered into some ‘vip area’, which wasn’t different from the normal tables area, just a piece of it arbitrarily marked off with a rope. Although, you were still grateful, because these seats looked a little less sticky than the ones just a few feet away.

Soon your favorite cocktail was in your hand. And with a little liquid courage, you can easily start this very important conversation with your boyfrie—

“Baby, I think we need to talk,” Dick interrupted your mental pep talk.

And goddamn. Were those not words you ever wanted to hear.

“Yes, love of my life?” you said shakily.

Dick had the audacity to laugh, “Relax. It’s nothing bad,”

You audibly let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, “Then why would you say it like that?”

“You’re so cute when you’re mad,”

“Well, you know what. I have something I think we should talk about too. So like. Uno reverse, bitch,”

Dick eyed you wearily before knocking back his glass, “Can I go first?”

Well, if what he had to say altered the possibility of you moving in together in any way, it would probably be best if you don’t bring it up then. Just tell him you no longer need to talk about what you wanted to talk about. So yeah, he could go first.

“Shoot,”

Dick set his glass down on the table and turned towards you, giving you his undivided attention. He took both of your hands in his, tenderly holding them, which was either very sweet or very worrisome depending on what was about to come out of his mouth.

“I’ve been thinking. Things have gotten very.. serious, to me lately. Between us,” he quickly added, “and don’t be mad! But I may have gotten you a job in Blüdhaven…”

He grit his teeth, waiting for you to either stubbornly turn the offer down or even just plain tell him to fuck off. He knew you weren’t really a fan of the whole ‘using connections’ thing, and that you really didn’t like it when people told you what to do.

“…Does it pay better than what I have going now?”

“Well, no. It actually pays worse…” he admitted.

“Then how am I going to pay rent, Dickie? Blüdhaven’s housing market is just as bad as Gotham’s,”

“See, that’s the thing. It’s not going to matter that you’re taking a cut because you won’t have to pay any rent. I can make that whole bill disappear,”

You allowed yourself a small smile, hoping that you knew where this was going, “And how, pray tell, would you be doing that?”

“Well I’m magic, for one thing. Learned it in the circus.”

“Is that so?”

“Uh huh…” he stopped bantering for a moment, sobering up a bit, “I want you to move in with me, y/n.”

“Hmmm,” you pretended to mull it over, “Well, my lease is almost up,“

“Yes, in April,” he supplied.

You laughed, of course Dick remembers every little thing you ever tell him. He always does.

“And I have been missing you like a phantom limb lately,”

Dick’s eyes softened from nervous to endeared, “I miss you too. So much,”

You shook your head in mock exasperation before taking one of your hands out of his hold, using it to guide his face to you as you kissed him sweetly. You could taste the tequila sunrise on his lips. Dick never was one for whiskey.

You broke the kiss, “It’s a deal,” Dick grinned madly at you, “But you’re going to have to tell Batman you’re poaching me,”

“You know what, I’m okay with that,”

Your boyfriend goes and orders another round to celebrate. While he stands waiting at the bar, you get a good opportunity to appreciate, how you say, the sceneic view. You really gotta send that tailor a fruit basket one of these days. Of course, you’re sure Dick could make any pair of pants look good. That ass was to die for. You definitely know what Ella Fitzgerald meant when she said “worship the trousers that cling to him.” If you were at home, you’d wolf whistle.

“I’m sorry, but I got so excited I forgot to ask what you needed to talk about,” Dick sounds sheepish as he places the new drinks on the table.

You take a drink, ah it hits the spot, “Just that either I need to find a job in Blüdhaven or you need to move back to Gotham. Looks like we were on the same page, as usual,”

“Yeah, we are,” Dick says wistfully, “I love you,”

It was nice, how well you and him synced up. Great for vigilante work, and it looks like Blüdhaven’s got a new dynamic duo rather than a solo act now.

“I love you too,” you placed a hand on his knee, “now let’s finish this round, I want to get out of here,”

“Toast?” he held his glass up, “To the next chapter,”

You clinked you glass to his, “To the next chapter,”

-

The ride back to your apartment took too long. You were a bit tipsy, but that didn’t help. You really really wished you could nuzzle into the back of his neck now, feeling how hot his skin was.

Guess you have to settle for pressing your body into his back. You know he can feel your tits when you do that. And with your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, you can let your hands wander while you’re at it, feeling him up.

He shivers underneath you, and you know that’s not the weirdly temperate February air that’s got him like that. You allow yourself a little smirk of satisfaction, but let up so he wouldn’t have a wet spot on the front of his pants when you two practically race down the apartment building’s hallways.

You fumble with the keys at the door. Dick hangs off of you like a cape, and his chin on your shoulder is not helping the whole unlocking the door thing. You feel his breath hot on your neck as you finally turn the knob and open the portal to that world where just you and him exist. Dick wastes no time in pushing you through the threshold.

He basically slammed that door shut and relocked it as fast as the Flash before caging you against the wall.

Dick eagerly captured your lips with his. You tangled your hands in his hair, and he groaned as you pulled it slightly. He gave your lips a little kitten lick and you opened them expectantly, giving his tongue access to start exploring your mouth. Like he hadn’t already memorized every part of it yet. He tasted like, well, tequila and grenadine. Just a hint of sweetness. Not exactly the taste of love but people in clubs mistook it for that well enough.

Soon Dick reached his hands under your thighs, hefting you up as you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. He ground his hips into yours in time with the swipes of his tongue. You moaned loudly as his clothed cock pressed into your clit just right. You gave his hair a little tug in approval. He got the message, breaking away from the kiss to whine at the friction as he continued to rut into you.

“Bed?”

“Bed,” he panted in agreement.

You wrapped your arms and legs around him like a koala as he stumbled into your bedroom. You thought about how it won’t be your bedroom for much longer and the butterflies in your stomach fluttered.

Dick lovingly placed you on your back at the foot of your bed. You propped yourself up by the elbows to watch him unbutton his shirt as he stood between your knees. You almost went to start removing yours but remembered that it might be more fun to watch him open that present himself. So you just leaned back and enjoyed the show.

Dick had already stripped himself down to his socks before he looked back and noticed that you hadn’t followed suit.

“Do you need help?” he smirked.

“Mm, just a little, yeah,”

You raised your arms to help him lift your blouse up and over and oh—

“I forgot about this,” his eyes raked over your chest as he took in the lingerie. A gorgeous balconette, satiny and blue. His blue, specifically.

Dick pressed his lips to the valley between your breasts reverently.

You could only giggle as he quickly moved on to practically ripping off your skirt to reveal the matching panties. Those couldn’t stay for long either, though. He stepped back and admired you in the set for a moment, before taking those panties and throwing them off to the side.

Dick kissed you as he pushed both of your bodies down onto the bed. His hands fumbled for your hips, and he broke the kiss briefly to line himself up. You moaned as you felt his tip press through your entrance.

“There we go Baby. Just a little more—“ he cut himself off with a load groan as he bottomed out.

He let you get used to the stretch for a moment while he started on your neck. It would be a crime if you walked out of this Valentine’s date without a collection of purple marks to show everyone just how serious you two were now. You were one step closer to being irrefutably his, and he needed people to know that.

“Dick, move,”

Ah, but maybe he got a bit distracted.

He started a slow, sensual pace. Dick wanted to take his time with you tonight. It was only romantic, for a nice romantic night like this. He watched as your eyes screwed shut, your legs pulling him in closer. He loved getting to see how you reacted to him, always so sensitive.

He crawled further onto the bed, hefting you along with him. Once he got you situated comfortably beneath him, he resumed thrusting into you. You gasped as he hit that particularly good spot within you. Dick smirked as he gripped your thighs, moving them impossibly more apart. He moved closer to cage you into the bed. With the new angle, he sank deeper into you. You moaned as his pubic hair tickled your clit with each thrust of his hips.

Dick was still taking his sweet time as he captured your lips with his once more. Not that you minded. His lips dragged across yours just as languishly as his member dragged against your walls. Very heartfelt, very tender. Like he was savoring the feeling of you beneath him.

“Faster, Dickiee,” you whined against his lips. Okay scratch that it’s been long enough that you’re starting to mind.

“As you wish~”

Even though your eyes were shut tightly, you could very clearly picture that smug look on his face you knew had to be there.

“Ah— Fuck…” you heard him say quietly as he picked up the pace.

And he was right. Now that you were properly going at it, the pleasure spiked in your nerves.

You kissed Dick’s shoulder as he desperately fucked you, now chasing that fiery feeling. Slick wet noises could be heard as he pounded into you, gasping and moaning, the sounds going straight to your pussy. He reached down in between you and found your clit with his thumb.

“Mmmph,”

“Yeah? You like that?” Dick began rubbing fast little circles over the sensitive bud.

“Babe— AhhH—“ your breath hitched as you came. Your walls fluttered around him, and he gasped, enjoying the feeling. He was close, and the feeling of your pussy spasming was like you were trying to milk him for everything he was worth. Amazing, he would never get used to this.

Once you had ridden out your high, he started chasing his own orgasm, hips brutally snapping into yours. You felt his tip kiss your cervix with every thrust. His grip on your hips was definitely going to leave little finger sized bruises in the morning, but you didn’t care.

He looked so pretty right now, sweat sticky hair and flushed cheeks. He had the hottest expression on his face as he rutted into you. He was so much stronger than you and yet so gentle even in his feistier moments like this.

“God, you’re amazing, Dick…”

Dick let out a loud guttural noise as he spilled his seed inside you. You felt the hot liquid seep into your walls.

He went limp and fell into you. Wrapping your arms around him, his heart beat fast against your flesh. His face rested on your chest, and you felt his breath fan against your skin as he panted. Recovering slightly, he slid a hand up to one of your breasts, brushing a thumb over the Nightwing blue fabric of your bra.

“You’re.. You’re amazing..” he huffed, “uno reverse, bitch,”

You giggled, bending to press a kiss to his hair.

“Let’s see if you still think that when I forget to do the dishes for a workweek and they pile up,”

“Why would I complain about something I’m also not doing?”

Damn. You better start saving up for a wedding.

You laid there basking in each other’s presence a little longer. You tried to take a good ‘snapshot’ in your brain of this moment, how the weight of his body nestled into you, the feeling of his skin, the scent of his sweat mixed with his cologne.

“Hey Y/n?”

“Mmm?”

“Be mine, Valentine?”

You laughed with all of your chest, “Only if you’ll be mine too,”

“I’m already yours,” you felt his toothy grin against the skin of the boob he had tucked his face into.

“You down for a second round?”

Dick heaved himself back up, hovering over you, “If I ever say no to that question, shoot me, it’s an imposter,”

He crashed his lips into you once again. And again. And again. And… It’s gonna be a long night.

-

It was hard as it ever was to watch Dick leave for Blüdhaven, but this time, you had a lot of hope. Just a little longer, and soon, you’ll both fall asleep and wake up in his arms every day of the week. Just a little longer…

You can make it just a little longer…

[beelanddiavolosimp-blog]

Hi~ Hope you're having a gud day. So I'll like to request a scenario where the brothers receive a really suggestive pic from MC on their chat and when they're about to tell how sexy she looks, MC deletes the pic and types out "Oops sorry sent it on the wrong number". The next thing is probably them bursting into MC's room in their demon forms and shaking MC while asking "Who tf were you sending this to then?!" (Poor MC, it was a prank tho😞). Thanks bbg!

To help Mc's case I will let them say it's a joke afterwards 😅 Aw you're welcome I hope you enjoy!🫶🏼

The brothers react to MC texting 'oops wrong number' after sending something suggestive

Lucifer

He was working of course never really doing much outside of it. He looked over at his phone and was going to ignore it until he saw it was MC and then immediately looked at it. As he opens the text he sees MC in a very suggestive pose along with an explicit text over the image before it was quickly deleted and MC sent "oops sorry wrong number". He stares at his phone for a good few minutes before suddenly standing straight up and rushing over to your room. He still knocks politely before slamming the door open a scary fake grin on his face. "MC what was that text I hope you know I read and saw it thoroughly." He says his tone is unreadable. MC looks startled then laughs nervously "ah sorry Lucifer it was meant for someone else..." He immediately moves closer "and who would that be huh? Don't lie to me I can read right through it." MC sighs loudly and pouts "why do you always know when I'm messing with youuu" MC whines

Mammon

He sighs bored out of his mind sitting on the couch. He then scrolls through his phone instead seeing Mc texted. He immediately opens it and sees a very suggestive photo before it was deleted and a text was sent. "Oops sorry mam's wrong number!" Now he is by no means a calm person but he stalled for a few minutes because DAMN that photo was a blessing to his eyes. Yet that immediately dropped when he saw that text. What?. WHAT?. He immediately rushed to find Mc and once he spotted them he shoved his phone in their face. "WHAT IS THIS! WHO ARE YOU SENDING THAT TOO? WHY WOULD YOU SEND ME THAT! ARE YA DUMB?" he continues to yell and make a scene. Once MC calms him down Mc finally admitted it was a joke and he immediately huffed. "Dumb human" and he snatched Mc's phone. "Don't send that picture to anyone else got it?" He says now moody.

Levi

As if he would be anywhere else he was sitting in his room playing video games when he heard his phone ping. He looks down and checks it since it was from Mc and immediately drops his phone and lets out a loud shriek. MC what the hell!!! He immediately scrambled to grab his phone with a red face and then got Mc's text. He frowns and texts back 'oh....okay....enjoy your time together then ig' and sets his phone down. He continues to sulk until Mc enters his room and scolds him for just accepting what happened and not questioning it. He is happy it was a joke though.

Satan

He was reading quietly trying to keep his mind off of something Lucifer said that had set him off. He checked his phone and once he saw Mc sent something he immediately went to open it. His eyes widened and his face immediately reddened at the photo sent. He immediately went to type something. Yet before he could say really anything MC sends "oops sorry wrong number". He immediately closes his book and within minutes was storming around the house in his demon form getting that pissed off. He continued to be a royal asshole until Mc practically yelled at him it was a joke. "Don't do it ever again or I'll cut that person's head off in a heartbeat."

Asmos

He was busy doing his skincare routine humming to the music he had playing in the background until he heard his phone vibrate. He checks it and immediately lights up seeing it was from Mc. Once he sees the picture he immediately saves it without thinking and responds quickly "oh my MC trying to rile me up are you?~" MC was shocked at how quickly he responded and texted "oh asmo I'm so sorry it was for someone else" he pouts yet responds anyway "oh? How sad...who was it for hm?" MC tried to continue the lie and couldn't eventually telling him it was. He responds "oh! Great. Now that photo can be for me only~"

Beel

He was currently in the middle of a workout. He was half way finished taking a small break noticing when Mc texted him. He opens the text and his entire face heats up a pretty red. He goes to respond before you text out "I'm sorry this was for someone else..." He stares at the message a little too long. In real time he was going through so many questions. Who was this supposed to go to? Why did you look that way? What's your relationship with that person? Did he eat more or less today? Too many questions he just responded "oh ok" and set his phone down. He felt an odd aching in his heart not liking how much a simple text bothered him. You immediately spam his phone with "IM SORRY BEEL I WOULD NEVER DO THIS TO YOU 😭." "IT WAS JUST A JOKE PLEASE BELIEVE ME AND PICK UP YOUR PHONE!" he eventually looked and sighed in relief texting back "Oh good I was a little hurt..."

Belphie

He surprisingly wasn't asleep when Mc texted. He immediately responded when Mc did text though. He sits up straight when he sees the image sent and immediately responds "oh? What's this MC? Miss me that much?" He says cocky as all hell. He was until Mc's next message "sorry belphie this wasn't for you. Someone else actually" he immediately scoffed and stood up texting Mc as he walks "where are you?" He storms around the house looking for Mc. "None of your business" Mc responds. That didn't last long when he suddenly appeared next to Mc within a few minutes. "Who was it meant for." He asks with a glare that could kill on his face. After Mc burst into laughter Mc then explains it was a joke and he then proceeded to say some cuss words before going somewhere to sleep away from Mc.

[soullessdianthus]

𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠

Requested by @apollodeath

A/N: One more request to go (platonic TF 141) and then I will work on two König posts (including pervy!König). SO EXCITED! ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)

𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 | "𝐂𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲? 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮."

Warnings: smut (sir kink?, dry humping?, touch starved reader)

König had been gone for two months now – not the longest he was away, but definitely too long to your liking. Normally, the Austrian colonel would come back the exact day he foretold. So when that special date finally arrived, you’d be head over heels, butterflies tingling your insides.

He wouldn’t be surprised at all that you were all over him since he had placed a foot inside of the house. Hugging his massive arm, on purpose (or not) rubbing it against your breasts, while leading König to the dining table to feed him dinner. 

The colonel didn’t mind at all you being the clingiest girlfriend, he actually adored how longing you were for his attention. After some time spent in the relationship with you, he began to acknowledge the little detail in your behavior that guided him onto the right tracks.

For example, that evening when he got back from the latest deployment, you were wearing a flowy dress with a bold cleavage. Obviously he noticed the absence of a bra underneath it and your nipples digging through the material.

König got a little riled up, when you sat in his lap during the dinner, fidgeting occasionally. Oh, how he missed the feeling of your plump ass against his crotch. You made him feel young again, desired. 

So it wouldn’t be a surprise that soon after the meal together you found yourself bent in half on the large bed, knees close to the sides of your chest – face to face. 

The colonel had already slid your soaked panties off and threw them to the side, admiring your exposed, glistering pussy. König managed to undo his cargo pants and release his heavy cock from its confinements. You could look at it in its full glory as your boyfriend’s eyes were staring deep into your nasty mind, drilling his way inside. 

━ Did you miss me? ━ He asked with a heavy accent, calloused fingers tickling the softness of your stomach. He clicked with his tongue, when you didn’t answer him verbally. Simply nodding did not satisfy him. ━ Use your words, schatz.

━ Yes, I’ve missed you so much! 

Your skin was on fire, each of his very soft touches sending a shiver down your spine. The Austrian soldier was toying with you, probably mocking you for being touch starved to this point. But it didn’t matter as long as he was gonna give you the attention you needed so much. 

The hem of your dress fell onto your lower ribs, stopping at your chest. You pressed your head backwards against the bedsheets and gasped loudly, when König spreaded your pussy with his big fingers. 

━ Already so wet, heh. Did you touch yourself when I was gone?

━ No! ━ A high pitched message escaped your mouth as he flicked your swollen nub. 

━ Not once?

━ N-Not once, sir. I wa-waited for you.

König calmly and gently positioned his hard, heavy member over your drooling cunt. He slowly swayed his hips forward and then backwards, dragging that characteristic vein on his cock over your sensitive area. 

━ Gut mädchen [ger.: Good girl].

He praised and continued the easy movements, focusing on irritating your clit. Within the first minute your arousal covered his shaft, making the sliding easier. König’s palms were firmly holding your hips, while your calves rested upon his broad shoulders. 

Quickly, you became a whining mess, even he couldn’t believe how sensitive you were. And when out of the sudden your sweet orgasm began to build up rapidly, the colonel still couldn’t believe it. 

The colonel noticed how your eyes became watery, lips reddened and fallen agape. He felt you tremble beneath him, when the knot in your belly finally snapped and you moaned loudly for him. 

━ Cumming already? I’ve barely touched you. ━ König chuckled lightly.

You tried to regain the control over breathing while still feeling the sweet pleasure in your system. He was being cocky and that only meant one thing – you were in for a long night. 

━ Turns out you weren’t lying, heh.

[biancadoes1]

For all the anons who keep on falling for A’s social media antics… y’all do realize that by these playing games she’s telling on herself right? I know how controversial the now deleted Lukola timeline is but for those who were able to see it, do y’all remember seeing A’s now deleted TT vid of her smirking at the camera and lip syncing these SPECIFIC lyrics: “I don’t be giving no fucks, I don’t know if you caught on, I say what I want, I do whatever I want”

When I didn’t know who she was, I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt but seeing that old TT vid showed me exactly who she was and still is. She was taunting fans back then and she’s still taunting them now. And it’s absurd how so many people still fall for it every time.

Now that L is easing his way back into the spotlight after SMA and working on his next project, she’s trying her best to get people riled up against him with the attention he’s been getting. You would think that by now she’d invest in a proper lip brush to smudge out her overlined lips or some chiropractor appointments after overly arching her back in every single one of her pictures, but unsurprisingly, she’s still not there yet.

Just think about it… if she can manipulate appearance, her poses, and even her voice with her her favorite high pitched chipmunk voice filter on TT, what makes y’all think she’s still not playing social media games with the fandom through her IG posts and stories? Lmao she’s even tricked people into believing that she was dating JV (L’s friend) with their TT and photobooth pics for a while until he turned out to get a red herring.

If she’s been consistently manipulating new details about L or N and trying to fuel speculation that she and L are still together through social media, what exactly makes her a reliable resource as to what’s going on in L’s life?

It’s important to believe in only what L & N are showing us, and NOT readily trust someone who has had a history of being deceptive and conniving with the fandom for over a year. C’mon y’all… WAKE TF UP and enjoy all the well deserved recognition L & N have been getting lately!

READ THIS 👆

[anzulvr]

What do you think Karma would be like with a calm/chill reader who's easygoing and effortlessly charming personality sometimes turns completely 180 when they feel strong emotions? Like they can go from sweetly comforting Nagisa to yelling oddly detailed threats at Terasaka while chasing him with a metal bottle for eating her food. (Maybe mix in some passive aggressive sarcastic sass when Korosensei's being annoying?)

Karma x Chill(..but actually really passive aggressive) reader 🤗🤗 Ty for the request!! (Sorry took long)

— You don’t argue often and you are also very good at listening to everyones perspective and ideas even if they’re different from you. People view you as very understanding so seeing you actually getting into a heated fight it’s surprising at first.

— Karma is so surprised when he sees you angry for the first time like he didn’t know you had it in you to say the things you did.

— He TRIES to get you pissed off just to see you react, since you know he’s kidding and dating him gives you a soft spot for him it’s basically just him failing to annoy you.

— This one time Karma scribbled over your paper to bother you and all you did was frown for a second and erase / re do anything he messed up. (He felt bad and helped you when he realized you weren’t going to fight 😭)

— then in a group project with Yoshida (also Isogai and Rinka) Yoshida scribbled a little bit on your notes (not nearly as much damage as Karma made) but it pissed you off so badly you grabbed a marker and started scribbling on his face

“I’ve been working on those notes for days you actual dumbass”

“Hey- I’m sorry!! I’ll rewrite them— get off me your using permanent marker it’ll be hard to take off!!”

“GOOD.”

— “Damn [name] that mad?” When you hear Karma mention how you reacted you stop so fast

“I wasn’t actually mad. We we’re just playing right Yoshida?”

Only out of fear he agrees “Right..”

— You’re tolerance for everything is way higher for Karma because you like him too much to get mad, that doesn’t mean you never get mad at him it just takes a little more to.

— Some of the things you respond with are shady in the way people expect Karma and it’s just so confusing cause it feels so out of character for you.

— but it’s definitely one of the things Karma likes the most about you because 1. It’s funny 2. Hes glad to see you stand up for yourself once in a while because he’s usually the one telling people off for you.

— passive aggressiveness would come whenever Korosensei or really E class is too pushy about certain topics.

For example before Karma confessed to you theyd push you to do it first and come up with crazy plans to make things happen.

— they full on locked you in a room together and instead of waiting it out you found a way to break the doorknob (together #romanceisreal)

Angry you and happy Karma is a mix end class fears because he’ll be constantly hyping it up😭

Like you’ll be be hitting Terasaka with a notebook because he said something stupid and Karma will go:

“[Name] wait— Use this one it’s way thicker!!”

(took inspo for ur original request lollol)

Karma will support anything you try and honestly rile you up more to see what you do

Angry you and Angry Karma is definitely the worst mix of all

hell on earth

! but it hardly happens since you usually reel each other in

Just tell him to chill tf out😭

Having strong emotions isn’t all bad, you’re empathetic, kind and care for everyone in class— even Terasaka no matter how much of a pain he can be.

mom friend-ish?? (Awe yeah Mom friend definitely)

They don’t actually mind it and are grateful for the times you stand up for them bc they know you love them

Especially Karma even though you’re prone to getting into arguments like all couples do it’ll work out fine because you both care to much about eachother.

If you’re the type to remind people you love them after arguing it’s another thing he loves about you, since he himself has trouble saying he’s wrong first it’s helped him swallow his pride and apologize faster.

(Literally so cute my fave relationship dynamic)

[mv1simp]

I am in ur walls

I have come to raise the idea of, and hear me out, Max x PR officer reader. I’m just gonna yap now, hear me out

Like can you imagine Max going through his hoe phase and reader having to clean up his image, and she’s just fondly like UGH MAX. Part of her is like blehhhhh because more work, but the bigger part of her is like ✨jealous✨

And then at some point she makes an offhand comment like if you want to be a whore, can you at LEAST not make more work for me????

Cue Max and her starting to be a thing, and him trying to rile her up enough to get her to be their own PR issue just for shits and giggles and he gets quite risque and horny and her resistance to it just turns him on even more until he’s saying and doing the filthiest shit in the middle of the paddock just to get her to crack——

Also can you imagine how hilarious it would be if they get caught and GP is like NOT YOU TOO READER LIKE DOES HE HAVE A MAGIC DICK OR SMTH——

WELCOME TO MY WALLS!!! This idea HAS ME ahahahah see I was always a crackfic writer at age 12 on wattpad, its time to remerge into the light with this prompt

Like you know how max is so millennial coded. And she’s actually the same age as him but he thinks she’s older cause she’s always looking so stressed. And she like um that’s cause you’re a fuckin manwhore max?!? Have you thought about celibacy for a hot second? And as they become better friends she demands he hand over his card so she can invest in some good skincare

(max also suggests maybe she needs to get dicked down good, he’s happy to provide that if she wants or? 🤭🤭)

But anyways she’s pumping out Gen z memes left right and centre to distract the masses from his slut era and he’s always like wdym “i have zero rizz and am a bitchless cat dad”?? I know memes?? Remember hawk thua-

ALSO WHENEVER HE REALLY TRIES TO RILE HER UP ON THE PADDOCK AND SHE CANT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT SHE MAKES HIM DO THE MOST ANNOYING SOCIAL MEDIA CHALLENGES TO GET BACK AT HIM like imagine her making him do a kiss marry kill with the drivers and he’s like 😑😑 and everyone’s like babes come here we got max Verstappen saying he’d kiss Alonso, marry charles and kill George before GTA 2024

ALSO I’m jumping the gun but after he ✨seduces her ✨ there’s so much scope for the classic shenanigans. Accidentally wearing shirts inside out. Accidentally wearing each others Redbull shirt and she could get away with oversized style but everyone’s like “max why tf are u wearing a crop top”. (GP knows. He knows and he can’t look either of you in the eye. Everyone has started asking why he loudly announces himself and waits 10 seconds before walking around the corners of the Redbull garage and he’s like…no reason. But his face is one of a man who has seen many, many things)

Anyway you have ban any contact of sexual nature after that incident that you have dubbed CropTopGate. But obviosuly that just makes max even more feral cause we know how competitive he is 😼

ALSO he’s notorious for going through personal managers as well but once you two start getting tension but you’re still all like “nooo 6 foot driver millionaires aren’t my type okayyyy 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️”

So he demands that you be promoted to his personal events manager as well. To which you are adamantly like NO knowing what this means for your poor self control but Christian Horner is like yes maxie boo 🥰 so now you also accompany max to all his lil modelling gigs, looking anywhere but at him while he stands shirtless next to you with a cocky grin.

OR LIKE IMAGINE HE AND A MODEL ARE DOING AN ADVERTISEMENT TOGETHER LIKE ONE OF THOSE SEXY PERFUME ONES. AND DURING A BREAK THE PHOTOGRAPHER NOTICES YOU AND MAX TALKING TOGETHER

and he’s like i don’t care who you are get over here NOW this sexual chemistry is insane so you end up in a very compromising pose up against max verstappen, F1 driver, cat dad, and certified slut while he’s whispering dirty things in your ear

(He catches on quick that you really likes it when he speaks Dutch, good thing you can’t understand it cause he’s just reciting his grocery list and enjoying watching you blush and squeeze your legs together)

very cute idea hehe thank you for messaging!! I LIVE for some sexual tension, reader is a better woman than me for trying to resist the advances of max 😮‍💨😮‍💨

[girldriveroscar]

wait. But the scenes of carlos taking a Compromising photo of oscar and oscar knowing .(?) like As In. oscar conked tf out in enemy territories… then carlos got up in his face n snapped a pic… and then when oscar woke back up carlos Showed him? To rile him up? like theyre on jabbing i Have unflattering blackmail pics of u levels of Flirting? and presumably oscar did not gaf which Probably just annoyed carlos even more… But Deep Down. Oscar gaf… oughhhhh Ouh what? what…

or carlos didnt show him and oscar is just assuming their at blackmail pics levels of friendship.. Like Any way. also attaching to this how carlos was affronted that he shared his Secret Partnership w loreal to oscar but oscar didnt share his w Grill’d. Like Hes literally The Burger Guy… N u didnt tell him… ouhh just so many avenues of a Tentative hatefuck to friends development occurring in front of me..