#and that's coming from someone to who sex is *not* particularly intimate!

[coockie8]

I don't know what anti needs to hear this, but a ship having the occasional argument, sometimes insulting each other, and having *gasp* sex every now and again is not "toxic", that's called an average, human relationship.

Sorry, but I see antis who brag about how "problematic and toxic" their blog is, while having a several miles-long DNI full of anything and everything that could even be remotely "problematic" way too often, and it's like what, exactly, are you defining as "toxic and problematic" here, when all the actual "toxic and problematic" themes are in your DNI????

[affableramen]

no nut november day 1. how to make them come for the really horny darlings who read my smol insignificant blog :)

crack, smut, established relationships mature themes, minors dni

Wriothesley:

he loves when you choke him really well. he goes crazy once your hands start squeezing his neck

grabbing or scratching his butt. Wriothesley loves when you touch his rounded ass, and if you do he will definitely lose it

Tartaglia:

when you moan loudly, tartaglia loses his mind. he loves when you vocalise your sensations and satisfaction

praising him. tartaglia is not very experienced in bed activities, so he’d be really grateful if you kept praising him while having sex cause it makes him feel encouraged to proceed.

Neuvillette:

being on your knees for him (he does not expect that from anyone because he is such a humble individual, and it turns him on almost instantly)

when you take charge and offer him to have sex by your initiative. do not get me wrong, neuvillette is anything but submissive man, however even he gets tired of being constantly the controlling one. he wants you to be bold and shameless too

Pantalone:

when you play with, pull or grip his hair, it makes pantalone go insane. he is very sensitive to your touch in general, and he especially loves it when you try to tease him by playing with his wavy locks. he will be turned on immensely

when you touch his nipples (his erogenous zone. rub them nice and well, he will cum hard, mumbling “have mercy on me” to you)

Ayato:

dirty talking to him (praising his cock mostly) he loves his sex a bit dirty and overstimulating

when you slightly dominate him. this man is fed and sick of people constantly servicing him and seeing his s/o showing responsibility and taking a bold action like riding him will make him nut wildly

Capitano:

squeezing him inside. his manhood is thick, and the tip is fat enough to make him feel things when you suddenly tense up. capitano will give in to his passion, you will hear loud impatient grunting escaping his mouth that you never knew you needed

when you call him by his real name. in most circumstances capitano hates it when someone mentions his true old name, but when you do it during intimate moments he simply goes nuts for you. the way his name falls from your lips when he thrusts into you fast and hard enough just gets him going

Alhaitham:

he adores when you scratch his back. you always fear hurting him, but alhaitham wears your marks proudly and insists on you to not hold your passion in. he needs more of those blooming red marks of lust on his body

when you assist his thrusts by forcing your hips closer to him. he enjoys when you participate in love making equally to him, and will definitely cum unexpectedly generously if you continue

Dottore:

when you play by his rules. dottore is a very old and assertive man who’s used to things happen his way. at first he will kindly ask you to follow his lead but later on he will be incredibly blunt and dominant with you

when you use his vibrator on himself. not to mention him liking impressing you with new toys, when you grab one and press it against his skin, he will squirt his release earlier and thicker than expected

Dainsleif:

when you moan or whisper sweet nothings into his ear. this makes him particularly horny, especially given how much your voice turns him on in a private setting

when you try to unnoticeably run your hands over his hips. there is something about your claws grazing over his strong legs that makes him go completely frenzied for you

Baizhu:

when you bite his ears and neck. baizhu has those very sensitive and he will come almost instantly if you tease the delicious earlobes and neck of his.

when you wear sexy outfits. he likes to take you when you’re wearing those naughty, revealing but incredibly gorgeous outfits. he practically loses control of his arousal and can come even prematurely simply because he is staring at your beautiful body

[anantaru]

dragon neuvillette horn touching…

cw. monsterfucking (dragon), he has scales, horn touching (sensitive horns), size kink/size difference, fem! reader

neuvillette was always exceptionally gentle with your body and how he touched you— more so until you're reduced to utter mindlessness, with tears caking your lashes as he lifts and pulls your hips together.

the undertones of carnal desire a mystical being like the iudex had was visibly showing, with remnants of rough scales decorating the area around his chest and abs— all for your eyes to feast on as he yanks your body against his hips before pushing his weight flat onto your chest, your legs spreading widely apart.

a shriek arises in your throat when he dips his hips back into you, an unholy, flourishing need for pleasure holding you hostage as neuvillette pursued it without mercy— your heart turning into a lump in your throat as the chilling vibrations of each thrust settles on your skin.

aside from that, the strange presence of, well, someone who clearly wasn't human made you wince and twist under his much larger weight. it's making it a whole lot more intimate because you know neuvillette trusted you and had no issue in showing you all of him— like his dazzling, turquoise scales, or his lustrous horns glowing through the shadow of the room and overturning the desire in his eyes.

your body shakes from the penetration of his cock pushing past the muscular ring of your hole when at the same time, you're unable to move from the immediate sensation of being overstimulated as the harshness of his blows thunders on you and parts like waves from your wet sex.

immediately, your hands weave into his hair to hold his body close as you're being surrounded by his muscular chest rubbing across your nipples with his soaked erection mercilessly drilling to the hilt of you, splitting you so deliciously, as well as claiming and striking bursts of electricities along your nerve endings.

you focus on neuvillette's face, particularly when you accidentally brush your fingers around the base of his horns, making him wince out due to the sudden trace catching him off guard— his jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed when you do it again.

he likes it, you're certain of that, and the veins on his shaft swell as he fucks your sloppy cunt when you continue to touch his horns and rub your pads into them— becoming entranced by his veins moulding their trace into your walls.

neuvillette squeezes his eyes shut and exhales through his mouth at the feeling you put him through when his hands grip at your hips as he fucks you as quick and sloppy as he can, his domineering aura causing a brutality on your core when loud moans leave your lips on each thrust.

It seems like neuvillette was everywhere, unimaginably hard and hot buried in your cunt while touching all of the soft, secret places and making you twist and writhe in ecstasy— it's wet and messy as well, the noisy squelches coming from your sore hole are absolutely driving him into madness as neuvillette groans into your lips when you tug on his horns, his cock aching and his balls throbbing.

but he won't stop, neither does he want you to stop touching him like that either.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[sinsirellaxx]

Hot question:

How often do you think the Slytherin boys pleasure themselves? 😏

Slytherin Boys – How often would they masturbate?

Warning: Not proofread!

Mattheo …

… who would probably jack off almost every day.

… who would be sleepless in bed, tossing and turning while trying to fall asleep until he finally decides to pleasure himself in hopes of putting his body into a state off relaxation.

… who’d be in the middle of taking a shower, his hand moving lower to clean his genitals until cleaning it turns to tugging on his hard member until he spills into his fist.

… who’d cave on the fifth day of no-nut-November – who was he kidding? He couldn’t last a whole week.

… who’d have to use his hand more frequently if he was in love with someone that he cannot be intimate with yet – after dates, cuddle sessions, a particularly spicy dream or after watching you yell at someone for almost knocking your friend over. He loves your temper.

Theodore …

… who would be too lazy to pleasure himself – either he has someone to take care of it for him, or he’ll just try to endure

… who rarely does it himself – he has enough people vying for his attention – but will do it if he does get desperate.

… who loves to do it in the bathtub – if he’s pleasuring himself, he’s gonna enjoy it to the fullest.

Lorenzo …

… who has phases during which he is horny all the time.

… who’ll sneak out of his classes just to find a secluded spot to push his pants and boxers down, wrapping his hand around his member – the thrill of being caught gets him going.

… who’ll be adventurous about jacking off at different places in Hogwarts – the library is one of his favorites.

Draco …

… who won’t have such a wild sex drive – he’ll pleasure himself once a week or whenever he has wet dreams which are quite rare given that his nights are either sleepless or plagued by nightmares.

… who always feels dirty afterwards.

… who needs complete silence to get hard – if there is any kind of fear or stress, he just won’t get hard.

Blaise …

… who’ll wake up late on a Sunday morning and lazily tug on his cock until he spills into his shorts.

… who sometimes likes to tease himself, wanting to see how long he can draw it out.

… who will come up with weird challenges to see how long he can go without masturbating until he comes in his sleep one day – his boxers embarrassingly wet.

Tom …

… who’s too busy to bother with such base desires.

… who rather has someone else help him or else he is just too lazy to do it himself – it’s not as erotic or relieving if it’s not done by someone else.

… who will give in and finally fist his cock after having waking up from wet dreams day after day – he needed seep to function.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Father’s Friend! John Price Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Forbidden Romance, Age Gap, Implied Smut, Brief Descriptions of Smut, Cock Warming, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Cum Inflation, Stomach Bulging, Teasing, Older Man/Younger Reader, Pet Names, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

He tells you to keep quiet when you’re being intimate; he silences you with a sibilant “Shhh,” when your moans get too loud, telling you to “Keep your voice down, Sweetheart. Wouldn’t want your dad to walk in on his precious little angel getting fucked by his best friend.”

He’s a tease, too. “Or, maybe that’s what you want. Want me to fill you up and send you out there with your belly pumped full of me. Show em all how much you like getting speared by an older man’s cock.”

And if he finds it you’re going on a date with someone who isn’t him — WHOO, that will NOT end well for you.

He’ll bend you over the nearest sirface and pound into you. Gently enough that you can still walk after the encounter, but hard enough to remind you who you belong to.

“Can he fuck you like this?” John pants, teeth gritted and eye twitching as he feels you clenching around him, speechless. Drooling onto the cover of your bed beneath you. His hand slides up your front. Presses into your stomach. He growls as he feels himself there, his tip throbbing inside you. “D’you think he can make you feel like this?”

And when your date arrives to pick you up, he watches you walk, a hand placed over your stomach to hide the bump formed there, your thighs together pressed together to try and stop John’s semen from leaking into your underwear. And John watches you, a thin, sly smile on his face as your gaze finds his. He waves you off, knowing you’ll back. For more. For him.

For the rest of the evening, all Price can think of is you trying to go about your business knowing that you harbour a secret in your stomach; namely his cum sloshing around inside you. He can just imagine the surprise on your date’s face if you decided to get intimate with him, only for him to tear your underwear off and find you already wet with another man’s cum oozing from your hole and rolling down your thighs in thick globs.

John’s life has been a series of high-action, adrenaline-filled moments. But none of those compare to when the two of you are hiding your forbidden relationship from everyone around you.

Price’s unwavering love of cock warming has almost led to the two of you being caught multiple times; namely when you’ve been sat on John’s lap, squirming as his dick lays nestled deep inside you, only for someone to come bursting through the door, making you jump, tighten around John. He has to try and stifle the guttural growl clawing up his throat you’re squeezing — milking — him in your moment of panic.

Luckily, John’s ridiculously large desk - the one you’d often remarked he only got to comfortably fuck you on - hides what lays beneath the surface of this particularly dark and colossal iceberg. It conceals the outline of John’s cock inside you, the material of your shirt seemingly too thin for the job.

John dismisses the person who rudely interrupted you. Sure, they gave the two of you a strange look upon seeing you sat in John’s lap, but as far as that person’s concerned, that’s all it is. Flirting at most.

John’s interest in you isn’t purely sexual, though. He cares for you. Truly and utterly. You remind him of the feeling of first love — the one he never got.

He takes you out to fancy restaurants, ones far enough out of town that nobody knows who either of you are, letting you act open with each other. Hand holding, forehead touches, fingers running up your thigh, quick kisses, slow kisses, kisses that stray into dark waters.

Speaking of a hand running up your thigh; John’s classic, default move whenever you’re at a crowded event together (especially in the presence of people you know). You and John always sit beside each other, which always leads to his hand slipping beneath the tablecloth and up your leg, stopping only when he reaches the warmest spot — the inside of your thigh.

And he does this all while maintaining conversations with other people while you’re left mute and wanting.

Of course, he always delivers.

He’ll pull your underwear to the side and start toying with you. Gently, at first, his pace slow as not to attract attention. Then, when your face starts to get red and your voice is but a string of whimpers, he leans in, closely, so you can smell his cologne that charges hundreds by the drop, feel his beard tickling the side of your face, and whispers: “Don’t get yourself all worked up, Love. We’re with guests, after all.”

John will never let you cum under these circumstances. He’ll take you to a nice and isolated room and have his way with you until you’re having to lean on him for the rest of the evening, his arm about your waist and his semen pooling in your underwear. Heavy. A mistaken gesture of friendship.

If anyone ever did get suspicious of your relationship, John would tell you immediately.

“I can’t risk losing you,” he’d say, stare solemn. “We’ll have to keep our distance — just for the time being.”

God forbid you start crying, otherwise he’s on his knees, taking your hand in his and pressing long, deep kisses to your knuckles, his breath nigh-frantic and hot against your skin.

“I promise, Darling, this is only temporary.”

It would have to be, because John can’t go two minutes without thinking of you, needing you.

He sees something that’s your favourite colour in a shop window ? There you are, in the forefront of his mind.

You still interact with each other, of course, but you can’t be as close to one another as you’re used to being. As you’d like to be.

John can only watch you as you fraternise with other guests, party-goers, your father’s lawn party a hit. And yet all he can think about is having you by his side, fingers interlocked and looking down at you with all the love he’s never been able to give to anyone else.

These avoidant periods usually always end with John coming to your door and knocking profusely, his visage that of a man who’s seen nothing but ghosts all his life. And he takes you in his arms, pressing kisses to every inch of your face, leaving the two of you gasping for breath by the end of it, his eyes filled with adoration he’s never known and will only ever know for you.

Usually, you can expect a mountain of gifts to be waiting for you after your suspicion avoidance era ends - a collage of everything John collected that reminded him of you in your absence.

Some of it he purchases solely for you to wear for him and him alone, to put on a show for him. Sure, it’ll get torn off shortly after, but John can’t deny that you look like a present wrapped up just for him to unravel, to ravage.

Clothes, jewellery, accessories, shoes; he watches you wear them out and about. Something about seeing you wearing things he’s bought for you sends him feral — the fact that you’re drenched in his wealth while nobody else knows what lies beneath the surface. Beneath the layers of satin and silk and silver are the remnants of the night before. Teethmarks, bruises, scratches; the etchings of hours of pure, uninterrupted love-making. Breathless confessions, promises of a life together where you don’t have to hide your love.

Every outfit, every coat, is the disguise for many a night more.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[dadsbongos]

do u think u could write some of ur own personal headcanons for laios? i love the way u write him, it seems almost canon!

anon you dont know what fire youre messing with

also thank yew hehe :>

general headcanons:

Laios likes babysitting but does NOT want to be a real papa, he adores the idea of being the Cool And Strange Uncle but just imagining having to raise a whole person from scratch terrifies him

Usually conks out as soon as his head hits the pillow and he’s a damn heavy sleeper, he strikes me as someone that gets the dad snore when he’s a bit older

Likes doing physical activity in the moment, maintaining his stamina/strength n whatnot. But HAAATES the aftermath, he will not stop bitching about how gross he feels when sweaty

People scare him but I think men specifically scare him more than women because he mainly associates “men” with his old boarding school and military peers and his dad. Meanwhile the most callous woman he’s personally dealt with is like. his mom… who wasn’t particularly menacing and he doesn’t seem to resent her as much as he does his father

Most definitely called Chilchuck “chil” in their early days together and got his nuts sacked for the unintentional disrespect

Doesn’t drink often because the taste bugs him but when he does decide to, he drinks to get drunk. So it has to be a special occasion

The type of older brother to tell Falin food fills up your body from your feet to your head and when you’re full to your head you die

modern headcanons:

Definitely the type to unironically use little emoticons like :) or :] but his favorites are the cute ones like :3 , ^.^ , and :0

Would’ve played barbies with Falin as a kid and enjoyed it more than Falin did lol

If he were out with the group (marcille would have to threaten his life though, he would HATE “going out”) and Marcille or Falin deferred to him to deal with creepy men he’d feel like a superhero about it

Borderline mandated to have a high impact phone case by Falin because he’s GOT to be dropping that shit all the time. I just know it (projecting)

Would probably dislike resident evil as a series but thinks the premises are cool

Bouncing off that: he’s a big Undertale and Deltarune fan (definitely had a thing for Toriel at some point and probably thought sans was kind of overrated). Has ambivalent feelings towards fear & hunger, likes the atmosphere and item preservation and monsters but the assault scenes and overt brutalism ick him out from recommending it

Would go his whole life without an autism diagnosis until eventually held at metaphorical gunpoint by his friends, just for his parents to go “oh yeah we had you tested as a kid but didn’t want you using it as a crutch”

If monsters weren’t real he’d be cryptid autistic just so everyone’s on the same page

Cryptids major and ocean creatures minor type autism

I don’t think he’s straight by any measure but before he has the Realization, he’s the epitome of the girls gays and coleman meme

Segue omg: he has no desire to think more about his sexuality or gender than “i feel x” or “i choose y”. I think he identifies as Man(TM) but in a “its harder to explain i want to be a bog” way. If you referred to him with feminine pronouns or called him “girl” he seriously wouldn’t give a shit 

nsfw(?) headcanons:

Could never do casual, you would have to be committed or only know each other VERY distantly and only do it once. His ass wouldn’t know how to read your relationship if you were trying to do friends with benefits (he’s also very concerned with hurting people’s feelings so just the notion of accidentally doing that to someone he’s intimate with would kill him)

May seem strange coming from a bitch always talkin about fucking him, but I think Laios would actually have kind of a lower sex drive. Like he maybe doesn’t get needy very often but also isn’t NOT in the mood, so if you proposition him and he’s into you he’ll be like “okie :3”

That being said, when he does feel needy he’s NEEDY. It’s debilitating, he genuinely can’t do or think of anything else until his poor wee is taken care of :( poor guy aww

I can see him being a virgin until his early-mid 20s and having no shame about it (good for him go king, virginity is nothing to be ashamed of it literally doesn’t matter)

Also by virgin i mean rice purity test score of like 97

Swears he doesn’t like having his cock worshipped (says its weird and embarrassing) but he’s so flustered n drooly and babbles the whole time

Biter 

[cherikyassss]

Cataloguing my top ten Cherik fics in order of popularity, in case anyone fancies some new reading material 😉

https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryRed/works

Five Nights in Nuremberg

When Charles escapes from the mutant prison he has been held in for the last two years he knows that he’s going to need help to avoid being recaptured.

What he doesn’t expect is that help will come in the form of a mysterious German man who rescues Charles and takes him to his home; a handsome stranger who, frustratingly, doesn’t speak a single word of English…

Bound

Is there anything worse than someone else’s wedding? Well, perhaps your sister’s wedding- where the groom just has to invite his boss and that man just happens to be your ex-boyfriend; a person you had an extremely passionate and tumultuous relationship with that ended badly.

Charles hadn’t seen Erik for a year by the time Raven had told him about the wedding. He wasn’t looking forward to the occasion, particularly when Raven explained that they would be celebrating the event with a two-week extravaganza at a luxury hotel, meaning that Charles would be forced to spend a whole fortnight with the man who he’d given everything to; the man who had ultimately broken his heart…

Can You Feel My Heart

Erik Lehnsherr hates Charles Xavier.

It’s as true as the words written on the wall in the bathroom at the university that Erik attends. Erik sees them one day- accompanied by a crude drawing of Erik and Charles glaring at each other- and recognises the truth of the sentence, and smiles.

He hates Charles.

Probably…

The Best You Never Had

By the time Erik is in his late twenties he has grown tired of his mother meddling in his love life- always setting him up on numerous dates with various suitors.

But then Erik’s mother offers to set him up with someone he used to know- the gorgeous blue-eyed boy Erik had a crush on in school, the boy Erik desperately wishes he had been nicer to.

How Erik ends up entering into a fake relationship with the man in order to keep his mother happy is anyone’s guess…

Forgotten

Charles is having a really bad day. Not only has he woken up in the middle of the afternoon with no idea where he is or how he got there, but when he returns home he’s confronted by a stranger with intense eyes, who insists that he knows Charles rather more intimately than Charles remembers…

In Service of the King

Co-authored by the wonderful @pinkoptics

The people of Britannia have been saved from an unbearable fate at the hands of Emperor Shaw. In order to express their immense gratitude, they offer the ultimate tribute- Charles Xavier, the beloved son of their leader.

Far from naive, and even before agreeing to be made a gift, Charles is only too aware of what such an arrangement will entail- a life spent on his knees for more reasons than one... But upon arriving on Genosha’s shores, it soon becomes clear that sexual submission may not be all that is desired of Charles, and that King Erik may have some notions of how he wishes to be serviced that are not at all what Charles expected...

Power and Control

Charles had done a number of stupid things in his lifetime, but this was probably the worst.

Deciding to piss off the leader of The Brotherhood of Mutants was a recipe for disaster, particularly when said leader had a reputation for swift and bloody vengeance. But, as it turned out, being murdered wasn’t what Charles would need to worry about. Apparently there’s a great many things you can do to exert your power over someone, rather than simply killing them…

Enemies With Benefits

Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr are the leaders of two opposing mutant factions; their rivalry played out over televised debates and in the articles of tabloid newspapers.

The tension between them is so palpable that, naturally, everyone assumes they're fucking- which they are, not that Erik is particularly happy about it... But he is content to console himself with the idea that it's just sex and nothing else, and that he is in no way interested in the spoilt little rich boy he can't seem to stay away from.

But then an attempt is made on both their lives and they are relocated to a safe house- a secluded cabin in the middle of the woods. At first Erik hates being forced into such close quarters with Charles, but gradually he begins to realise that 'hate' might not be the emotion driving him after all...

I Know

Charles had always considered himself quite a moral person, so he was as surprised as anyone to one day find himself with his mother’s boyfriend between his legs…

The Right King of Wrong

When Erik accepts a job working as a mechanic for the Xavier family he thinks it will be the solution to all his problems; a way for him to get inside the Xavier mansion without raising suspicion, so he can find out more about the labs rumoured to be hidden in the basement- a location where numerous mutant experiments are said to have taken place.

The mission is only supposed to take a few weeks, but then Erik meets Charles- the nineteen-year-old heir to the Xavier family fortune, who is back from Oxford University for the summer. Rather suddenly all of Erik’s carefully made plans fall spectacularly to pieces as the two of them embark on a love affair that has the potential to alter both of their futures, and their lives, forever…

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

One Last Time - Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Summary: After Jonathan decides this year will be his last as a professor, you and he decide to have fun one last time in the place where your relationship started. (Alternatively: you two fuck in the lecture hall to relive your past exchanges for a final time)

Contents/Possible Warnings: Established relationship, Student-Professor relationship, Age gap (Reader's in her early 20s, Jonathan's in his mid-30s), P in V sex, semi-public sex, creampie, semi-clothed sex, breeding kink, squirting, hair pulling, degradation, SMUT, MDNI

Other Notes: This is part two of this wonderful fic, but can be read separately. Hope you enjoy!! 💕

It was an almost surreal experience entering the lecture hall of Dr. Crane's class knowing it'd be the last time it'd be his. The professor had graded too many subpar essays and received too many emails from drunk university students for a lifetime, according to him, and it was time he found another job, particularly one that paid enough to justify the money he spent on his doctorate. After today, there'd be no more Professor Crane, something that managed to both sadden and excite you.

You still had a year left until you received your degree, which disappointingly meant that you'd no longer look forward to seeing him each day of the next academic year. What excited you was the freedom that'd come from no longer having to worry about someone catching onto the relationship you had with your professor, one that had almost always been intimate but had grown increasingly more romantic over the past few months as you became exclusive and put a label on things.

There'd be no more sneaking around and hoping that no one who knew you would see you both on dates. While Jonathan had made it clear that he didn't care about the consequences of being with you, the idea of your fellow students and the higher-ups at the university accusing your every grade of being rooted in you sleeping with your professor bothered you heavily.

As you stepped into the lecture hall, you found it to be empty; the door in the corner of the room leading to Jonathan's office opened slightly. You moved downwards from the top of the room all the way to the bottom, moving through the rows of seats until you finally reached his office. You peeked in, finding him sorting through his things, placing his belongings into labeled boxes as he went along.

"Did I catch you during office hours, Dr. Crane?" You asked with a smile, opening the door further. "Or should I come back another day?" He looked up, his lips turned upwards in a smile of his own at the sight of you at his door.

"You're always welcome in my office, my darling. At any time it pleases you." He stood up, setting the box he had in his hands aside before approaching you, pulling you in, and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips once close enough. You let out a satisfied sigh, placing your hands on his shoulders as you melted into his touch. You were glad you had taken that first risk at the beginning of the Fall, especially since it had led to one of your most rewarding relationships yet.

"All I have to do is finish putting a few items into a box or two and then I can finally stop making lesson plans and watching people butcher their understanding of psychology," he quipped once you two separated, moving back over to his desk.

"I know I'll still see you outside of here, but I'm going to miss having you at the university, Jonathan." You frowned, looking around the office you had spent so much time in with him. So many memories had been made in the small yet cozy room, and once he was done packing up, there'd be no more to make inside of it. "This is where it all started. Where we started. We really did a lot in here, didn't we?"

He chuckled, the memories coming back to him. "How many times did I have you bent over this desk, hmm? Or had your back to it while I pinned you down, those pretty little legs of yours shaking with pleasure while I fucked every thought out of your head?" His hand ran over the smooth, dark mahogany wood. "How about we do things here one last time? Relive that exhilarating thrill before we lose the opportunity?" He purred, lustful gaze landing on you.

You bit your lip, the beginning of your arousal making its way through your body. As much as you loved the idea of him bending you over that desk one more time, you had a better idea. One that'd put his favorite element into things: fear. You stepped forward, tugging lightly on his tie, bringing his face close to yours.

"You know what would really be thrilling? Scary even?" You whispered, watching as his blue eyes gleamed with piqued interest at your words. "Why don't we do things in the lecture hall? It wouldn't be the first time we have, but it will be the last." You slowly led him out of the room and into the empty hall in question. "Think about how both of our hearts will be racing with fear at the thought of us being caught. Sounds exciting, doesn't it? Like it always is."

His lips found yours again, kissing you hungrily as you moved towards the large, light brown desk at the front of the room. Fear was his passion in life, and to hear you so eager to engage in it for the adrenaline rush-filled thrill of it all lit a fire in him. His hands found the buttons of your blouse, undoing them quickly and letting the piece of clothing slide down your shoulders before taking off your bra not long after.

You shivered as the cool air of the room hit the warm skin of your bare breasts, only to let out a soft moan as one of Jonathan's hands gently grabbed at one, savoring the feeling of your soft skin as well as the sounds you let out at the feeling of his touch.

As he flipped you over so you were bent over the desk, tits pressed up against the wooden surface, the full reality of the situation sunk in, your heart racing as adrenaline began to seep through your veins. He had you in such a vulnerable position that if anyone were to walk in, there would be no escape or explaining yourself, not when you were half-naked with the man who was still technically your professor.

That's what made it so exciting.

You felt his hardened cock through his slacks as it pressed up against your ass through your skirt, and you ground back against him as he lifted it up, letting him feel just how wet you were through your panties. He growled as you did, pulling them down to just enough to have access to your wet cunt, dripping with arousal.

"You're such a slut, aren't you?" He questioned, already knowing your answer. He placed a hand on your hip as he teased the tip of his cock against the entrance of your pussy. "Bent over for a man over a decade older than you, your professor of all people, with your pretty little cunt just begging to be filled in the middle of the lecture hall."

You pushed your hips back, desperately trying to get him inside of you. "Only for you. I'd never do this for anyone else, no matter who it was." You struggled to hold in a loud moan as he thrust forward, burying himself inside of you; seemingly satisfied with your response.

"I wonder, how many other of your professors have you thought about fucking?" His hands held a tight grip on your hips as he set a fast pace, his cock sinking into you. "Or am I really the only one you'd do this for? Maybe I believe you, especially when I've ruined you for anyone else. Your body is made for me at this point, darling."

He leaned down, hunched over you as you felt his hot breath against your ear. "Maybe I'll be nice and fuck a baby into you. Fill you up day after day until all you know how to do is take my cum." His free hand found your clit, rubbing at it as he continued to fuck into you.

"Please—" You whined, legs shaking and struggling to hold you up as it all started to become too much. He had only been inside of you for a short time and you were already close. You could feel it building up, knowing you were going to cum harder than you ever had before.

"Wait— Jonathan!" You gasped, not knowing what you were pleading for as he continued to pound into you while rubbing your clit. Then it happened, your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, and you came with an almost pathetic cry of his name as you squirted on his cock.

"Good girl," he groaned, feeling you clamp down on him. "That felt good, didn't it? Haven't seen you do that for me until now." His hands went up to your hair, pulling it roughly while he continued to thrust, hips snapping against yours as he lost himself in the feeling of your pussy. He held you up as you trembled, overwhelmed but oh so ready to please him.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum," he moaned, letting your hair go in favor of gripping your hips tight enough to bruise. "You want that – mph! — d-dont you? For me to fill you up, breed you like were made for it." A deep, animalistic noise left him as he finally came, filling you to the brim with thick, warm cum that spilled out of your cunt and onto the ground below.

You two stayed like that for a long moment with him inside of you, both of you catching your breaths before he finally pulled out, more of his cum slipping out of you. You lay against the desk, your cheek pressed to it as you had difficulty keeping your eyes open, exhausted.

"Don't fall asleep on me," Jonathan murmured with a light laugh. "We have to get you cleaned up. You made quite a mess, my love." You sighed, pulling yourself up, looking at him with a dopey smile. He had managed to fuck every thought out of your head. All that remained was a drowsy bliss.

You'd miss this, but you still had him at the end of the day, and that's all that truly mattered.

[doumadono]

ainful sunday!!

thinking about izuku coming back from a long, agitating mission and just fucking his girlfriend for hours on end due to the fact he couldnt fuck her for two months..

Warnings: aged-up Izuku

SINFUL SUNDAY

The door swung open, revealing a dimly lit bedroom bathed in a soft glow emanating from a little lamp placed on a nightstand. The atmosphere was both calming and intimate, a thoughtful touch from someone who knew him all too well.

Izuku's eyes widened as he spotted your silhouette by the window, your gaze fixed on the city skyline. The scent of a familiar perfume hung in the air, triggering a wave of nostalgia and warmth. He cleared his throat, not wanting to startle you.

You turned, your eyes widening in surprise before giving way to a radiant smile. "Izuku," you breathed, crossing the room in swift strides. Your embrace was a testament to the longing that had built up over the weeks of separation, the relief of being back in each other's arms.

"I missed you so much," you murmured against his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his hero costume.

The sensation of your touch grounded him, a stark contrast to the chaos he had faced on his long mission.

As you pulled away, Izuku's eyes met yours, gratitude and love reflected in the depths of his green orbs. "I missed you too, Y/N," he confessed, his voice a mixture of exhaustion and genuine affection. "It felt like an eternity out there."

You led him to the bed, urging him to rest while you fetched a glass of water.

Sitting there, he found solace in your presence, the weight of the world momentarily lifted from his shoulders.

You spoke of the challenges faced, the victories achieved, and the moments of doubt that had haunted his journey.

"Coming back to you makes everything worth it," Deku admitted, his gaze unwavering.

You nodded, understanding the gravity of his words. "You're my hero, Izuku, in more ways than one."

Izuku enfolded you in a snug embrace, his lips leisurely planting tender kisses across your face. After delicately removing his gloves, his calloused fingers traced a gentle path along the nape of your neck. Amidst the soft caresses, he murmured affectionate words against your lips, "My babygirl, my little love."

Soon, he found himself pinning you down onto the mattress, his adept hands delicately removing your nightgown. His slightly chapped lips planted kisses along your exposed shoulders, traced the neckline, and lingered in the valley between your breasts.

Effortlessly, Izuku shed his hero uniform, the sound of zippers echoing in the room. Your laughter bubbled as you witnessed his struggle, prompting you to assist. A small smile graced your lips as your fingertips traced the contours of his toned body, a tangible reunion after the prolonged absence.

Foreplay was unnecessary - you were already drenched, just for Izuku.

Deku encountered no obstacles entering your pussy - your slick wetness facilitated an easy slide of his aching manhood right into your snug core.

He started with deliberate slowness, his thrusts mirroring the measured precision of his heroics.

Your quiet moans intertwined with his labored breaths, marking the end of a prolonged hiatus from your sex sessions. Despite your initial tightness, the reunion felt blissful for both, a testament to the longing that had built up during your time apart.

"Oh, Izuku, I've been dreaming about this moment for so long," you whispered, arms enveloping his neck.

He grunted, gazing down at you, hands cradling your face. "Me too, babygirl. Missed your warmth."

As pure passion took hold, Izuku found himself completely consumed by desire, his thrusts quickening in response to the escalating intensity of arousal.

In no time, you succumbed to pleasure beneath him, becoming a moaning mess. Every thrust seemed to expertly target those incredibly sensitive spots, sending waves of pleasure through you as the tip of his dick brushed against your spongy walls.

After a particularly forceful thrust, you screamed his name as your head tilted back onto the pillows. Overwhelmed by the intense sensation, you instinctively wrapped your leg around his hips, drawing him closer and subtly altering the angle for heightened pleasure, allowing Deku to penetrate your pussy even deeper than before.

Following his climax, you soon experienced your own, your body spasming from overstimulation.

Deku, catching his breath, tenderly kissed your forehead before withdrawing his cock out of your snug cunt. He then requested you to turn to your side. As you complied, he positioned himself behind you and reentered your pussy; his cock got hard again in no time.

Breathless, you gasped and bit your lower lip, feeling the intensity of his thrusts and a bulge his cock formed within your lower tummy whenever he pushed in, the tender kisses of his mouth placed to your cheek, and the warm breath fanning the back of your neck and ear as he grunted, quickening his pace.

In this specific position, Izuku could easily cup your breasts while reaching maximum depth with his dick buried in you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each of his thrusts.

Time blurred, but when Izuku cum yet again, emptying his balls in your pussy, he settled beside you on the bed, and slid his hands under his head with a smirk. "It was amazing, babygirl," Deku whispered, gratitude evident. "Thank you for the warm welcome."

You nestled against his robust chest, cheeks flushed as you felt your mixed cums trickling down your thighs. "Thank you for taking me to heaven, Izuku," you whispered, kissing his chest lightly.

[anniebeemine]

you didn't come- s.r x reader

based off of this post by @hereforhalstead

warnings: alcohol consumption, allusions to sex if you squint and flip it upside down

The evening had started off lighthearted enough. After wrapping up a particularly tough case, the team decided to unwind the way they often did—by hitting a local bar. It was meant to be a chance to decompress, to shake off the heaviness of the past few days and enjoy each other's company outside of the office.

Spencer had been quieter than usual, but that wasn’t uncommon. He often retreated into himself after difficult cases, especially those that hit too close to home. Tonight was no different; he nursed his drink quietly, offering small smiles when the conversation around him called for it but not really engaging. The others noticed but didn’t press him, figuring he’d open up when he was ready.

The bar was loud, filled with the hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. The team talked about everything and nothing, trying to push the horrors of their work to the back of their minds, if only for a little while. They stayed for a few rounds, catching up, telling stories, and enjoying the brief escape from reality.

As the night wore on, they eventually decided to head back to Penelope’s apartment to round off the evening with something more relaxed—movies, board games, or just lounging around. It was their tradition, a way to wind down together, like a family.

No one really noticed when Spencer’s mood shifted. He had stayed on the edges of the group, quietly sipping his drink, his mind clearly somewhere else. It wasn’t until they were at Penelope’s, the mood turning quieter and more intimate, that someone realized something was seriously wrong.

Spencer had withdrawn even more, his eyes distant as he stared at nothing in particular. JJ was the first to notice, her instincts kicking in. She saw the glassiness in his eyes, the way his hands trembled slightly as he set his drink down. She moved closer, asking softly if he was okay, but he only shook his head, a forced smile on his lips. And then, without warning, the tears came. Silent at first, just a few that slipped down his cheeks, but it quickly became clear that this wasn’t something he could control. The dam had broken, and Spencer, usually so composed, so in control of his emotions, was unraveling in front of them.

The room fell silent, everyone’s attention turning to Spencer as he sat there, struggling to hold himself together. No one asked why he was crying; they all knew.

The arrangement with Spencer had started off innocently enough. You were friends, good friends, who shared an undeniable chemistry. Late-night conversations had gradually turned into something more—a mutual, unspoken agreement to meet each other’s needs without the complications of a relationship. It was simple, or at least, that’s what you told yourself in the beginning.

For a while, it worked. You both understood the boundaries, the rules. No emotional attachment, no expectations, no strings. Spencer had made it clear from the start that he wasn’t looking for anything more, that he couldn’t be what you might need him to be. He had his reasons, and you respected them, even if they stung more than you let on.

“Don’t fall for me,” he had said one night, his voice soft but firm, as if he were trying to protect both of you from the inevitable. You had laughed it off at the time, joking that you weren’t the type to get attached. But deep down, you knew you were lying to yourself.

As the weeks turned into months, the lines began to blur. The late-night rendezvous, the stolen moments of intimacy, the way he’d hold you just a little too long afterward—it all started to chip away at the walls you’d built around your heart. It became harder to separate the physical from the emotional, harder to pretend that you didn’t care.

And you did care. You cared more than you should have, more than you wanted to. The realization hit you like a freight train one night when you found yourself lying awake, staring at the ceiling, your mind replaying every touch, every kiss, every whispered conversation. It was the kind of realization that left you breathless, your chest tight with a longing you knew would never be reciprocated.

That’s when you knew you had to end it. As much as it hurt, as much as you didn’t want to, you couldn’t keep lying to yourself. You couldn’t keep giving pieces of your heart to someone who had already told you he couldn’t take care of it.

So you broke things off. Spencer didn’t fight you on it, didn’t try to change your mind. He simply nodded, his expression carefully neutral, as if he had expected this all along. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened, but he didn’t say a word. Maybe that was what hurt the most—that he didn’t ask you to stay, didn’t give any indication that this was anything more than what you’d agreed to in the beginning.

You’d put yourself out there, as much as you could, and he hadn’t given you any reason to believe he felt anything more than what you’d already agreed to. If he didn’t want you then, why would he want you now?

The phone rang, jolting you from the movie you’d been engrossed in. You glanced at the caller ID and saw it was Penelope. With a sigh, you ignored it, hoping she’d leave a voicemail and you could deal with it in the morning. Your thoughts quickly returned to the movie, but they were soon interrupted again by the phone ringing, this time more insistently. With a growing sense of unease, you picked up the phone on the last ring, your voice trembling slightly as you answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” she started softly. “I have Spencer here and he’s asking for you.”

You checked the caller ID again. “Spencer?”

Penelope hummed. “Yeah. He… he’s a little bit of a mess and he wants you to take him home.”

You thought about it. You hesitated, feeling a tightness in your chest. As much as you cared about Spencer, this didn’t feel right. “Penelope, I— I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you said carefully. “It’s not my place, and I’m sure if he were sober, he wouldn’t want me to be there.”

There was a pause before Penelope sighed softly. “I understand,” she replied, her voice tinged with sympathy. “I’m sorry for bothering you. I’ll take care of him.”

“Thank you,” you said, your heart heavy with the decision you made. After hanging up, you couldn't help but worry about Spencer, but you knew you had to respect his boundaries, even if it hurt.

You tried to focus on the movie, but the images on the screen blurred together, losing their meaning. After a few minutes, you gave up, turning off the TV. The silence that followed was almost too much to bear, so you reached for your crochet project, hoping it might distract you. Your hands moved automatically, the yarn slipping through your fingers as you worked on the simple pattern. But no matter how much you tried to concentrate on the stitches, your thoughts drifted back to Spencer. You couldn’t shake the image of him, vulnerable and in need, reaching out to you in a moment of weakness.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You blinked them away, trying to keep going, but the weight of everything was too much. A quiet sob escaped your lips, and you bit down hard on your bottom lip, forcing yourself to keep working, relying on muscle memory to guide you. The repetitive motions of crocheting were soothing in their own way, a small comfort as the tears silently streamed down your cheeks. You weren’t even sure what you were crying for—Spencer, yourself, or the situation that had left you feeling so helpless.

The rhythmic motion of your hands eventually lulled you into a restless sleep, the crochet project slipping from your fingers as you dozed off on the couch. It was a fitful slumber, haunted by half-formed dreams that left you feeling even more drained.

A loud, heavy knock startled you awake. Disoriented, you sat up, wiping at your tear-streaked face as you tried to shake off the lingering fog of sleep. The knocking came again, more insistent this time. Your heart skipped a beat, a sense of unease settling in your chest.

You stumbled to the door, your breath catching as you looked through the peephole. Spencer was standing there, leaning heavily against the door frame. His eyes were red and puffy, his face streaked with tears that had dried on his cheeks. He looked completely shattered, more vulnerable than you had ever seen him.

You hesitated, your hand hovering over the doorknob. A part of you wanted to open the door immediately, to pull him into your arms and comfort him. But the other part, the one that still remembered why you had declined to pick him up earlier, held you back. But as you watched him sway slightly, barely able to keep himself upright, you knew you couldn’t leave him out there. With a deep breath, you unlocked the door and opened it slowly.

"Spencer," you said, your voice trembling as you took in the sight of him up close. He looked at you, his expression a mixture of pain and relief.

Without saying a word, he stepped forward, his legs almost giving out beneath him. Instinctively, you reached out, catching him as he leaned into you. His body shook with silent sobs, and you could feel the weight of his emotions pressing against you.

"You didn’t come," he choked out, barely able to get the words past his tears.

His words hit you like a punch to the chest, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. Gently, you pushed him back just enough to look at his face, your hands trembling as you held onto him.

"Spencer…," you began, your voice thick with emotion. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the words came tumbling out before you could stop them. "I didn’t come because—because I’m hurt."

He blinked, the confusion and pain in his eyes shifting as he pulled back slightly, standing up straight to give you space. You could see him trying to process what you were saying, his tear-stained face softening as he waited for you to continue.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. "I’ve fallen for you, Spencer," you admitted, the confession tearing at you even as you said it. "I’ve fallen so h-hard, and I know you don’t feel the same way. I know that. But it hurts… it hurts so much because I’ve been telling myself that I’m not good enough for you."

His eyes widened slightly, the guilt and sadness in them deepening as you continued.

"And if I’m not good enough for you, who could I possibly be good for? I thought so lowly of myself, Spencer. I’ve been tearing myself apart because I can’t measure up to what you deserve." Your voice broke, the tears finally spilling over. "You’re kind, brilliant, compassionate… and I’m just—" You shook your head, unable to finish the sentence.

But you didn’t have to. His lips were on yours in an instant, cutting off your words with a desperate kiss. The shock of it froze you in place, your mind racing to catch up with what was happening. You stiffened, your hands hovering uncertainly in the air as you tried to summon the urge to push him away, to tell him this wasn’t right, to tell him it wasn't fair for him to show up on your doorstep like this.

But you couldn’t.

The longing you had buried deep inside, the ache of missing him, the hope you had tried so hard to suppress—it all came rushing back, flooding your senses. Your resolve crumbled, and you found yourself leaning into him, your hands slowly lowering to clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer as if afraid he might slip away.

He kissed you like he was drowning, and you were the only thing keeping him afloat. There was nothing gentle or hesitant about it—only raw emotion and need, as if he was trying to communicate all the things he couldn’t find the words to say. But just as suddenly as it began, Spencer pulled away, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He was trembling, his eyes wide with something between fear and desperation.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice breaking, “tell me to leave. Tell me this was a mistake and I’ll go. I’ll never bother you again. Just… please.”

You stared at him, your mind a whirlwind of confusion and emotion. He was practically begging you to push him away, to end whatever this was before it could begin. But you couldn’t find the words to do it. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to leave, even though you knew how complicated and painful this would be.

So you just stood there, staring at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. His expression crumpled as he realized you weren’t going to say anything, his hands dropping to his sides as if he didn’t know what to do next.

But you still couldn’t let go.

tags: @donttrustlove , @migueloharasbbm @mortaci

[dissapointu]

Silco with a reader who has a high a high sex drive

1. Silco’s Control and the Reader’s Desire

Silco is a man of control, and while he’s always aware of the dynamics around him, he’s especially attuned to you. His own need for power and dominance extends into their personal interactions. He would likely keep his emotions and desires in check, but the reader’s high s-drive would push his patience. Silco is not one to rush things, but he enjoys the challenge of maintaining control, especially in private moments where the chemistry between you both becomes more intense.

2. A Subtle Power Play

Though Silco appears stoic and cold to the world, when alone with you, he enjoys the subtle power play that comes with your high drive. His reactions might range from amusement to quiet possessiveness. He knows how to take his time with you, slowly building tension and testing how far he can push before your desires overwhelm the situation. He thrives on the control, but not in an overt, obvious way. It’s more about keeping you just on the edge of anticipation, knowing how to keep you wanting more.

3. Provocative Teasing

Silco’s teasing is deliberate and sharp. If he notices that you’re feeling particularly eager or frustrated, he might not immediately indulge you, but instead he would draw things out. A gentle brush of his hand, a look, a soft whisper of words just enough to spark something within you. He understands your high drive, and he’s more than willing to test your patience, letting the tension build slowly until you’re at the brink of madness.

4. Satisfaction in Your Submission

While Silco is driven by a need for dominance and control, he would find great satisfaction in knowing that you’re utterly captivated by him. When he finally gives in to your needs, it’s not just physical for him—it’s a psychological and emotional conquest. He relishes the moments where he has you completely in his grasp, knowing your desires are met, but also ensuring that he’s the one who sets the pace.

5. Intense Emotional Connection

For Silco, physical intimacy isn’t just about release—it’s an expression of trust and power. He would value the deep connection that comes with being physically close to you, appreciating how your high drive shows him a different side of you. It’s a form of vulnerability that he doesn’t often show to others, and in return, he might even surprise you with moments of tenderness when he sees that you’re fully trusting him. Your desires allow him to be more than just a ruthless leader, revealing a more intimate and protective side.

6. Morning After

After a night of intense passion, Silco would likely become reflective and somewhat distant. His love for control means that while he’s fully capable of indulging in his desires, he still views them through the lens of power dynamics. He may not be overly affectionate the morning after, but you’ll notice subtle signs that he is invested: a hand on your back, a quiet but meaningful look, or a low murmur that shows he’s pleased by how things went. He’s not one to speak openly about feelings, but his actions would reveal that he takes satisfaction in knowing your needs were fully met.

7. Long-Term Relationship Dynamic

Over time, the power dynamic between you two would likely become more complex, especially as Silco learns to balance his need for dominance with the deeper emotional connection he develops with you. He would remain the one in control, but as your relationship deepens, he might find himself occasionally giving you more than he intends—pleasure, affection, and intimacy beyond what he expected for someone as calculating as him. You might not ever change the way he operates, but you certainly add an extra layer of complexity to his life, a challenge he both resents and craves.

[plscallmeeren]

H E A D C A N O N S

Loki Laufeyson / Odinson x Reader

Request: no just feeling in love

Summary: completely mixed batch of romantic headcanons including fluff, smut and some toxic things that would probably come into play at some point

Warnings: some general sexual stuff but nothing rough lol; mentions of extreme jealousy etc

Word Count: about 1K

He loves recommending books to you and talking about them afterward. It used to be him accidentally gushing about a book (usually poetry or fairy tales) and at some point you just started reading them without him knowing. Eventually he gave up on keeping the titles secret.

At first he was put off when you weren't too submissive during sex, but he adopted the "treat her like a Queen" idea and now, without diminishing his own pride, he looks forward to worshipping you every day.

He loves dancing - spinning you around the room, slow steps, but very close - anything. If you are in a room filled with of people he can show you off, but alone it is just as intimate.

When he's insecure, he can revert to considering himself superior. You generally let him be aloof for a while before addressing the problem directly, but it's a struggle every time to make him admit why he has low self esteem.

He has a treasured copy of Nordic fairy tales with beautiful illustrations that he shows only you. He lets you tenderly flip the pages, in awe at wonders like forest fairies, nymphs, glamorous witches and hags alike. Not like Thor, that 'oaf'.

One night, you sat on the edge of the your shared bed, legs bare, teasing him for how desperately he wanted you. He knelt before you, whispering "please", kissing his way up from your ankle to your thigh on one leg.

Loki hates it when she is a woman and is handles awkwardly at first. You have a habit of immediately talking to her or circling an arm around her waist when she enters the room so that she can't worry to the point of turning back into a male body.

He loved hearing his name from your lips as he pleasures you: "Loki, Loki, Loki". It is only right for a god to be subject to whispered prayer.

He makes fun of/critiques Thor a lot, but in quieter moments he loves telling childhood stories and Thor's adventures. On darker days he will ask whether you're sure you wouldn't prefer Thor - after all, everyone else did.

He lives to kiss you. It sounds dopey, but anywhere, anytime, in front of everyone - kissing you on the lips, on your neck, hair, chest, arms, especially hands. Anything to taste you, to feel as close as possible.

She feels particularly sound in her own body when you fuck her as a woman. When she's spread out before you, bare, there's no hiding who she is, and you are more than happy to ravage her as much as their common body.

Loki doesn't need much sleep. At night, he sometimes feels lonely and yearns for the halls of Asgard. He cries quietly in bed, careful not to wake you. Some days, he retreats to the library and sobs, cries absorbed by surrounding stories.

Tea. Tea. Tea. Always. And every time he makes a cup for himself, you get one, too. He knows your favourites and which ones you like at what time of day.

He writes you letters. Love letters full of poems - some of his own hand and others quoted - and confessions. Every swooping letter is drawn with careful precision, every reference a new find from the library in honour of you. Such a hopeless romantic. When you write such letters back, leaving them with him before he wakes, he almost sheds tears of bliss.

If you have tattoos or scars or burns - anything of the like - he will trace them, stare at them as he comes, turned on endlessly by every unique mark on your body. All his. No one else knows every freckle like him.

He is possessive. He always has been, and as much as you try and calm him and prevent jealousy... sometimes he yells at you for talking to someone else too much. Sometimes he whispers that you have betrayed him like his father. Sometimes you find him searching through your things; what for, you will never know.

Loki loves your laugh, and he will do the most ridiculous things to earn it. Before knowing you, he would have considered every antic and joke beneath him and embarrassing, but he hardly cares anymore. That is, until Thor laughs so loud from beside you that he can't hear anything at all.

Stargazing. He points out every constellation, knows every myth - some are inspired by people he knows.

He reads to you. He takes you on surprise picnics and plans fancy evenings.

He loved how you see through his lies and tall tales, but take him seriously or laugh anyway. Every one of them has a grain of truth, after all, and it doesn't make him untrustworthy.

He doesn't really swear, but secretly likes it when you sound harsh talking to others.

Loki will talk about your future all the time, especially after making love, rambling on about your house, lifestyle, garden, parties.

You talk for hours at once, incorrigible.

No one can calm him down like you. The moment you touch his arm when he's yelling at Thor or anyone else, it ceases, but he sometimes pretends to be angry a bit longer, just enough to get to your room and keep his pride in front of the others.

Loki loves you. Selflessly. Eternally. Insatiably.

[sp00kymulderr]

stretch

Dieter Bravo x gn!reader x yoga instructor!Joel Miller

Warnings/Tags: M for mentions of sex. AU in which Joel is very flexible. Dieter is a menace. Daydreaming about a threesome. Reader is able bodied/takes part in a yoga class. No use of pronouns for reader but they are called babe & baby.

Words: 890 words

Summary: Dieter introduces you to his yoga instructor.

A/N: for my love @ravensmadreads. idk where this came from. You mentioned something about trainer!joel and being told to bend over and my mind went to yoga so??? Consider this a little offshoot of gym crush Joel. An au of the au.

Dieter had been insistent on your coming to his yoga class today.

He was practically dragging you along through the luxury gym floor to the studio - an intimate set up with space for just the two of you and the instructor. Perks of being an actor, Dieter didn't have to work out with strangers.

He'd never been that into yoga before he'd gone off to film Cliff Beasts 6. But he'd come back particularly enthusiastic about it. Something about a mirror. Someone called Kate. You weren't sure you particularly needed to know the rest and frankly, the sex had been even better since he'd gotten more flexible and active so who were you to say anything.

He's happy, giving you an excited nudge as you both sit down on your fancy mats, sitting cross legged as you wait for the instructor to show up.

"You're gonna love this, babe" He mutters, giving you the kind of smile that is all mischief.

"Dee, I love your enthusiasm but I really don't think-"

You stop, words scrambling just like your brain cells as another man joins you two in the room. He pads quietly over to the mat in front of you both and greets the two of you. Where Dieter's energy is very 'bouncing off the walls', this man seems calm and gentle, in a way.

It doesn't hurt that he's gorgeous too. Beautiful brown eyes that seem to tell a thousand stories at once, greying brown hair, scruffy grey-speckled facial hair that accentuates his handsome features. He's…gorgeous isn't even really the right word. Breathtaking feels more like it.

Well, you understand why Dieter has been particularly keen about this class.

He introduces himself as Joel before sitting down on his mat facing the two of you and mirroring your crossed-leg stance.

Your mouth feels dry. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're affected by the man. He's started talking but you're zoned out, hopefully subtly scanning eyes over him; the way his t-shirt is just a little too tight around the biceps, the tiny sliver of skin when it rides up as he raises his arms.

Dieter, thoroughly amused, nudges you back to reality. For a moment you stare from him back to Joel and then, "Oh right" you awkwardly say, raising your arms up with a deep breath.

If you thought Dieter was flexible now, he was nothing compared to Joel. He made every flow look easy, and showed his strength with a quiet grace that you were finding very difficult to not continue to be struck dumb by. Your mind was definitely going to places it shouldn't…specifically to Joel in bed with you and Dieter…how that might go. Hearing him tell you to bend for a different reason might drive you completely overboard.

As the class continues you're wondering what positions he could put you in, lost in thought right as his hands gently meet your hips to help you into a pose you might not be struggling with if your mind wasn't in the gutter. The touch of his hand makes your breath hitch. And not subtly.

"You okay?" Joel asks, his voice low and quiet, fingers giving you a little reassuring tap on the hip. You nod back, waiting for the floor to open up and take you away. Dieter gives you a knowing look and you glare back at him, now fully aware why he'd so badly wanted you to join the class.

It's either a blessing or a curse that you have the same taste in men.

It's a relief when the class ends, when the 45 minutes are up and you can hopefully get out of the small studio and clear your head of dirty thoughts about a man just doing his job.

You look over to Joel as he's clearing away mats, give him a little smile and say your thanks and pray that you aren't somehow giving away the things you'd been thinking about him for the whole time. To your surprise he gives you a smile and a wink as you're on your way out.

"Give me a couple minutes, baby" Dieter says mysteriously. Maybe you should be worried about that particular glint in his eyes as he approaches Joel when you exit the studio.

You're checking your phone when Dieter comes back out, taking your hand and walking with you back to the car.

"So?" He asks, looking at your like an expectant puppy.

"Hm?"

"You liked it? What'd you think of Joel?" He says, his tone telling you he's much more interested in knowing your thoughts on the other man.

"He's very…" You start, not sure quite how to describe the things you felt about him in that short amount of time "bendy?"

"Yeah he is" Dieter sighs happily, pulling you towards him out by the car and turning you around to face him. His arms nake round your middle, holding you close. "You liked him, right?"

You sigh, returning his embrace. He always looked for a reason to be as close to you as possible. You would never complain about that.

"Yeah, I like him"

His smile lights up the entire parking lot. You knew he was up to something.

"Good" He kisses the tip of your nose before pulling back.

"Cause he's coming over tonight to give us a special session"

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Heavy Home

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Commissioned by an anonymous user. Dabi has never been good with people, with controlling his emotions, or controlling his quirk, and all of those things have put him in a lot of danger throughout his life. He doesn't think that it's all that surprising that he ends up feeling like the entire world may crash in on him or that he might ignite when he gets stressed out by those things. He just didn't know that there was a way to feel better when that was happening. Shigaraki takes one look at him when he's spinning out and shows him how he can. 

Contents: panic attacks, hurt/comfort, protective!Shigaraki, cuddling, soft sex, praise kink, frottage, cumming in pants, multiple orgasms, anal fingering, anal sex, anal cockwarming, creampie, overstimulation

Word Count: 7969

Dabi is never going to say that he's ever been good with people. When he was a kid he was 'off-putting' to other kids. Even though he was friendly when he was little, when he started to go wrong, his intensity and obsession with getting back into his father's good graces, and the viciousness through which he tried to hide how badly it hurt that he was cast aside, made him disconcerting to be around. Natsuo was the only one who could stand him without fail, though it was his cruelty to Fuyumi that soured that particular well. Still, he wasn't good with other people when he was a child, and waking up from a coma to find he had been completely cast aside, did not help that condition in the slightest. Then he'd been on the streets and the lack of social skills, feeling like a child in a body that didn't belong to him, having people constantly trying to hurt or take advantage of him-- it all piled up. He had to learn how to survive. 

That resulted in Dabi making himself dangerous. He made his scars worse by reopening them all the time as he took on criminal work to show that he was powerful and not someone to be fucked with. He got piercings on top of his staples, he dyed his hair black, he switched to leather clothes so that he would look tougher and not have to worry about picking melted polyester out of his skin. He made himself  'Dabi' in more than just name to ensure that he wouldn't get destroyed before he could become the ghost he had vowed to be at his altar. 

The problem is that doing all of that hadn't made him less scared, less small, less fragile, when he already always felt like he was on the verge of losing his mind and control of his quirk again. He wonders how many other people know the unique and intimate terror of knowing every second of every day that one slip in their concentration could mean their quirk rebelling and killing them. He doubts that many could. He just knows that it's something that is always sitting at the edge of his awareness, and he knows that his fight or flight leans so heavily towards 'fight' in an effort to keep him alive, making it even more likely that he's going to lose control again ahead of schedule. 

He tries to hide those fears and doubts, tries not to make himself a target for threats or violence, if only to keep his skin on his fucking body. And he hides all of it through a blasé attitude, thuggish drawl, and seeming disinterest in everything going on around him. He gets very good at faking all of that to hide the constant riot of emotions that is surging through him at nearly all hours of the day. Dabi thinks he's done a particularly good job of hiding those emotions when he goes to meet the League of Villains. He thinks he's done a very good job when it's Shigaraki who lunges for him, and not the other way around. At least this way, he knows that the other man is focusing on his anger and Dabi can pretend he isn't nearly bouncing his foot as he realizes this is a big step for him. He's been biding his time in the shadows for so long, coming out of them and throwing his lot in with the League could destroy him before he even gets a chance to see his father again. But he does it anyway, and despite almost coming to blows, he is accepted into the group. 

He really thought that maybe he would calm down a bit after that. 

///

The problem is, that no matter how much he plays it cool around the others, he is constantly on edge. He doesn't know the right things to say to keep people from getting aggressive with him, he can't talk about himself out of fear of giving anyone any clues about exactly who he really is, and he is constantly trying to sound dumber than he is. He doesn't think he does a good job with the last one, because despite the rough start with Shigaraki, he is put in charge of the summer camp job. Though, that may be a good thing, because he is very invested in making sure that he does everything he can to ensure if he sees Shoto, his identity isn't immediately revealed. But that, he thinks, is only making his anxiety higher and higher. 

It's especially bad on training days. The training facility that Kurogiri sends them to is somewhere deep underground, a large white room, maybe the size of a baseball diamond, with thirty foot high ceilings, a viewing window off to one side where the monster maker and Shigaraki typically observe from, and the ability to be dressed up as different settings so that they can practice trying to use their quirks in 'open, outdoor environments' without actually drawing attention to themselves. It's good for the others, Magne learning how much of a direct line of sight she needs on someone to properly magnetize them, Toga is figuring out how to move through the trees and throw around her needles, things like that. Dabi is mostly wandering around, tossing Velcro balls at people when they get distracted, mimicking the way they are likely to get hurt if they aren't paying attention when moving through the forest with his flames licking all around them. But he doesn't use his quirk during this training session. Not only is it dangerous given they are in an underground enclosed area, but it also wouldn't be safe with his seams. He doesn't want to burn himself out before they even get to the camp, so he is mostly keeping an eye on things, acting as a fake hazard, and learning what he can about the others. 

He learns very quickly that Muscular is a piece of fucking work.

"This is bullshit," the bigger man snarls, tearing three of the balls off of his clothes and stomping right over to Dabi. He tries to maintain his cool exterior, but he can't help the fact that his temperature is creeping higher as the other man gets right into his face. "I can feel fire before I get close to it." He shoves the balls into Dabi's chest, pushing hard enough that it puts just the wrong amount of strain against the edge of his seam and one of the staples pops free. He hides a wince as he starts to feel the empty holes beginning to bleed. Muscular's single eye drifts down to the bloom of blood and the sneer goes even more vicious. "Aw, is that the problem, pipsqueak? Are you too fragile to be any use in the field?" 

Dabi's pulse is thundering in his ears and he wants nothing more than to get away as fast as possible to treat the wound, not wanting to risk the bastard jamming his fingers into it and possibly giving him an infection. But what he actually does is take half a step back, lift one of the little balls, and bring flashfire to his hand. It burns hot and bright sharply for about half a second before it's reduced to ash, but it's so hot that Muscular rears back immediately with a sneer, activating his quirk to keep the worst of the heat away from his skin. It's not fast enough to avoid the flames drying out the skin on his face, not enough to give him first degree burns, but enough to make it turn a little pink with irritation. 

The sprinklers trigger as the smoke from his palm reaches the sensors in the ceiling, making Toga and Magne both squeal over their hair getting wet and Compress grumble about his suit. He's just grateful for them because the roar of the water means that it will be hard for anyone to hear it if his voice is trembling at all. "You may not have a chance to feel the heat before my flames come. You need to be aware of your surroundings if you don't want to get burned."

He is glad that a portal opens for them as Shigaraki's voice crackles through the speakers. "That's it for the day." The room will need to be reset and the others start to go through the portal without protest. He is a little slower behind the rest of them, trying to make his breathing even and slow the beat of his heart, but it feels impossible. 

The others aren't all staying at the bar, only he and Toga without somewhere else to go, and Kurogiri clearly sent the others back to their places of residence, because it's just he, Duster, and Dabi in the bar when he steps through, Toga's feet already moving up the rickety stairs. 

Dabi means to immediately follow her as Kurogiri steps through a portal of his own to go see to whatever AFO has him doing, but as he turns to leave, Shigaraki reaches out and catches his arm. He only uses four fingers, and the touch doesn't hurt, but it's entirely too much for him after Muscular got so into his space, and Dabi forces himself to clamp down as hard as he can on his quirk to keep from combusting and lighting up the entire bar. But that traps all of the heat inside of him and he feels his brain boil, his limbs all starting to tremble and his breath fills with embers as he tries to figure out how to fill his lungs around the flames, or if he should be trying to suffocate them away. 

"Dabi?" His hand drops his elbow and he feels like a child as he curls in on himself. His skin feels like it's going to catch, fuck, fuck, fuck--

All of the sudden, there is a solid weight on him, smothering his skin, held close to his body as he's grabbed again. Not just his arm this time, but around his shoulders and his waist. Dabi is pretty sure that should be the thing that sends his skin boiling, but instead he lets out a breath of smoke as Shigaraki... holds him. He's wrapped him with the ratty blanket from the back of the couch, used it to smother the heat pouring off of his skin, and he is holding him tightly against his body. That pressure, he thinks, should break him. The heat being reflected back in on him should make him ignite. But instead nearly all of his muscles go slack and Shigaraki is the only thing holding him up at that point. 

He lets out a gasp that is all smoke as he realizes, despite seeing how dangerous his quirk could be, Duster saw him losing control and got closer to make sure he didn't. 

///

Dabi is really out of it, he knew that the moment that Muscular got into his space and sent his nerves so high, but this is past that. He feels like he's hungover as he realizes that he's on the couch, or more specifically, he's in Shigaraki's lap on the couch. The other is still holding him tight, his chin resting on the top of Dabi's head, and holding him wrapped in the blanket. He blinks and starts to straighten up, 

"Fuck," His face burns, but it's with a blush this time, not his quirk. No, that feels pretty settled as he shifts in the other's lap. "Sorry, I--" 

"It's alright, Dabi." He doesn't know if he's ever heard Shigaraki's voice soft in the time they've known each other. "...Do you always have this kind of trouble with your quirk? Or is it just when you're having a panic attack?" 

"A what?" 

Duster blinks, his arms tightening a bit around him, and that look tells Dabi that's something that he should know, but might be something the coma and lack of education are messing with. 

"Whatever, I'm fine with my quirk, I can do my job." He insists.

"...Okay, but if you need anything else, we can help, Dabi."

Right, because so many people have been willing to help him before. He extracts himself from Shigaraki's hold and the blanket to go upstairs. He probably would have stolen a bottle of booze to annihilate his brain if the other man's eyes hadn't been following him the entire time as he was going. 

///

Shigaraki doesn't bring it up again, but after another couple of days, a package gets left for him outside of his door. Inside of it he finds a weighted blanket made of a special fire-retardant fabric and Dabi would carry the thing around like a child if he could get away with it. He didn't know how much being smothered in the heavy fabric would help to ground him, the weight making it so he doesn't feel like he's drifting away from his body, and the covering with something that won't catch, letting him breathe a bit more easily as his anxiety swells. It's beyond good that he has the blanket now, and it only gets better when their support gear comes in and Dabi is given a leather coat that has a removable lining with lots of places he can put similar weights inside of the fabric. He almost resents how quickly Shigaraki was able to pinpoint a way for him to contain the constant discomfort under his skin. But he can't really when this all is working-- for the most part. 

Dabi still wakes up more than he likes to admit, gasping, lungs filled with smoke, and feeling like he might come apart at the seams. And the blanket helps then, but it doesn't fix him. He ends up layering his coat on top of himself as well, and that still isn't enough. So when he and Duster have a private minute he asks, 

"Where can I get another one of those blankets?" 

"I can order it for you, why? Did something happen to the first?" Duster doesn't even look up from his game. 

"No, it's just not heavy enough at night." 

That does get Shigaraki to pause, literally and figuratively, so that he can give Dabi his full attention. "You can't add another blanket, it's not safe. Too much weight could compress your lungs." Oh. Fuck. He wonders if Shigaraki can see the disappointment on his face, because he starts to scratch at his neck before he mumbles, "There might be something else that we can try, though." 

///

Which is how Dabi goes from just sleeping with his blanket, to sleeping with Duster. Beyond weird at first to go to his boss's room whenever he has a bad dream or spike of anxiety, and climb into his bed, the heavy blanket separating their bodies, and then Shig climbs on top of him. He rests his weight completely against Dabi, and like being hugged tight by him the first time, it smothers out his discomfort and lets him fall right to sleep. And Shigaraki can then get off of him and go about whatever he decides to do when his insomnia keeps him up. It's strange and beyond embarrassing at first, but over the course of another week or two of the best nights of sleep Dabi has had since he was five, he gets over the weirdness. 

He's laying underneath Duster again, the tension slowly trickling out of his body and making his eyes get a little heavier. Shigaraki is scrolling on his phone, his chin tucked over Dabi's shoulder, reading some report or another that AFO sent him. They usually don't exchange words when he comes in here, but it's been weeks and Dabi can't help but mumble, 

"Why're you going out of your way to help?" 

He hears the other's thumb stop moving. "I'd hardly call lying on you 'going out of my way'." Shig tells him, sitting up a little. Dabi reaches for him through the blanket and holds onto his shirt, trying to keep him close, and Duster shifts to keep most of his weight on him, just straightening enough so that he can look at Dabi. "But if it's helping, why wouldn't I?" And he says it like that should be obvious, like that's just so simple and expected that the thought that he wouldn't do that is completely foreign. 

Dabi, for as reckless and stupid as it is, can't help but respond to that by leaning up and ruining it by pressing their lips together in a soft kiss. Shigaraki stiffens over him and his stomach plummets, his anxiety ratcheting up in his veins again, ready to try and squirm out from under him and go quietly immolate himself elsewhere, but Duster doesn't pull away, he doesn't kill him. His gloved hand wraps around the back of his neck and he holds him in place as his mouth moves against his own. 

The kiss is achingly tender, making a burning bloom behind his eyes that he doesn't want to give name to. But just like the hugs, the blanket, the consideration and care that Shigaraki has been giving him for the past few weeks, a kiss that isn't brutal is completely foreign to him. He's only ever been kissed a few times, never by anyone he wanted to kiss, never when he wasn't so high or drunk that it made any sense. But Duster is gentle as he moves their lips together. His lips are shattered, but soft as he tilts his head to seal them together more completely, and when his tongue begs permission, Dabi opens to let the other inside. There's no rush, no plundering, or biting, it's all just the slow intentional movements of his mouth as he licks behind his teeth, strokes their tongues together, filling Dabi's mouth with the slightly stale taste of mint from his toothpaste. But it's good. It's better than any kiss he's ever had before and Dabi is humiliatingly breathless when Duster pulls away, red eyes dark and half-lidded as he looks down at him. He wonders what he looks like and hopes it's not as desperate as he feels. 

He's really not expecting Shigaraki to murmur, "Sorry, I shouldn't have-- that doesn't have to be a part of this. You can come to me when you need to. I'm not expecting... that in return." 

Dabi blinks, because it hadn't even crossed his mind that Shigaraki would take away the care he's been giving him if he wasn't doing what he wanted. He untangles his hands from beneath the blanket and knots his fingers in the soft, loose sleep shirt across the other's chest. "Okay." He feels his face going a little hotter and hopes that his scars cover it up. "Could it be?" 

The hand around the back of his neck flexes and tightens a bit, and then Shigaraki is leaning back in to kiss him again. It is just as deep as the first, but it's a little faster, a little harder, like Shigaraki is actually hungry for him. It spreads the heat from Dabi's cheeks along his whole body and he tries to match his pace. Duster gives him kiss after kiss, each one building in intensity until Dabi is just taking in little gasps of air every time their lips part even the slightest bit, but not letting himself fully part at all. He doesn't want to pull away completely, he would drown beneath Shigaraki if he could.

But then Shigaraki shifts on top of him, slipping one of his thighs between Dabi's legs and his body goes even hotter as he spreads them open. The hand moves from around his neck, his mouth moving to along his jaw like his scars aren't even an inconvenience, so that he can pull the thick blanket out from between them. Feeling Shigaraki's body against his own without that barrier between them, makes a hazy need start to itch across his veins. Opening his legs to make room, not just for Shigaraki's thigh, but wide enough so that his hips can slot between his own and he can bring every part of their bodies flush against one another makes him breathless. Duster moves slowly, his lips kissing and nipping ever so gently across his jaw and down his neck, teasing his skin as he looks for any place that makes little shivers or tiny gasps escape him. Dabi tries to get his wits about him. He's had other hookups before. They weren't soft, they weren't even good if he's being entirely honest, but they were something and he knows what he's supposed to be doing. It's just that... being under Shigaraki as he lavishes his ruined skin with the same warmth and softness that he was given when he first held him, is making it incredibly hard to focus. 

Duster doesn't seem to mind though, and his hands are moving up to the hem of Dabi's shirt. His fingers dip just beneath it, stroking his stomach just above the edge of his waistband, and then he murmurs against his skin. "Can I?" 

Dabi is terrified of how weak his voice will be if he tries to use it and manages a nod instead. Shigaraki has to lean away from him and Dabi has to let go of how tightly he was clinging to him, but it's worth it when Duster coaxes him out of his shirt. It's a relief to shed the fabric, the heat of his body becoming unbearable. He catches the hem of the other's shirt when he's free of his own and Shigaraki takes the hint, pulling the dark fabric away and tossing it somewhere else in the room as Dabi is left breathless as he gets a look at his body. The bullet wounds are freshly healed, but no longer puffy as the stars from. The cut deep across his shoulder looks much newer and Dabi can see the little scabs on either side of it from how recently the stitches were removed. Those pull his immediate concern, if only because he didn't know their leader was running around with those injuries, but the next is that Shigaraki, for as thin as he is, has more muscle on him than he thought he did. He's lean the way Dabi is, where his body seems to be trying to put on the muscle that it is ready to make, but it's being stopped by something. For Dabi, it's his quirk constantly burning through him and years of malnutrition that keep him wiry with broad shoulders, but for Shigaraki, he wonders, if it's the injuries, the fucked sleep schedule, or the fact they never see him eating anything and he's only ever seen the boss have a drink if it was something hard from the bar. 

But those thoughts aren't given room to breathe as Shigaraki leans back down to catch his mouth in another consuming kiss before his hands are moving over Dabi's chest. His skin is much cooler than his own, but most people are colder than him. He's more focused on how good it feels as he brushes a thumb over his nipple, teasing the bud and playing with the piercing through it. How that good sensation feeds into the gentle, exploratory touch across the seam that runs over his stomach, and how normally that doesn't do anything but hurt, but the lightness of this, how warm his body already is for these proceedings, is making it feel good. He reaches for Duster, trying to touch him, to make certain that he's worth his time when Shigaraki didn't need to give him his attention at all in the first place. But Duster catches one of his wrists and pushes up by his head against the pillows, 

"Let me make you feel good?" He has never been spoken to so softly and Dabi trembles, managing only a tiny nod as his throat goes thicker. 

Shigaraki keeps touching him, kissing his skin, touches exploratory and teasing, until he finds the spots that make him squirm and bite his lip as his cock fills and little moans keep wanting to slip out. He needs to be quiet. Toga's room is right on the other side of the hall, and he will have to immolate them both if they wake her up because she will definitely mock them for this. It's hard to hold back the sounds though when Shigaraki's cock is swelling too and the thin material of their pajama bottoms is barely a barrier between them. His thighs tighten around Duster's hips when he rolls them together. It's the first time someone's touched him in half a year, and it's been even longer than that since he got desperate enough to stroke himself, his piercings and staples across his palm making it a tedious and somewhat unpleasant task. That, he thinks, is making him so much more sensitive, and he's practically whining, biting his lip hard to stay quiet, as Shigaraki grinds them together, his cock feeling so big as it moves against his own. He ends up having to fist his hands into the bedding, his hips giving aborted little twitches up, trying to get the other to go faster, harder, to give him more because it's humiliating that he is so desperate when this is all he's been given. 

"So pretty, sweetheart, so sensitive," Duster's voice is lower, in volume and with the rasp of his own arousal. And his lips go to his cheek, kissing him there like he's nothing but a desperate, blushing virgin, and Dabi feels like one as he is left wanting more so badly. "Is this enough, baby boy?" He rolls his hips more deliberately and Dabi can't help the thin moan he lets out, his jumping to rub against him, sparks dancing along his nerves. Never had someone call him nice pet names in bed either. He doesn't think that those should be making him so much needier, but they are. "Can you cum like this, precious?" Shigaraki doesn't sound like he's mocking him, he sounds like the thought is enough to make him hotter too and he can't hide how wet he's getting as his cock leaks in his pajama bottoms. 

Dabi barely manages to nod. And instead of pulling back to make him cool down so that he can actually be worth the other's time, Duster kisses him again and pushes harder, moving more deliberately as one hand goes to Dabi's thigh, catching it around the back so that he can lift his leg slightly to make the angle even better. Good enough that Dabi can't help the gut-punched moan that comes out of him. 

"That's it, show me how pretty you are when you cum, Dabi." 

He half turns his face into the pillows, gasping and whining lowly as the movements keep going, finding the perfect pace to push the heat in his veins higher and higher until he can't hold on any longer. Dabi bites his lip hard to hide the sound of his pleasure as his balls go tight and his cock pulses his orgasm across his nerves and paints the inside of his pants with a sticky mess that squelches obscenely when Tomura keeps moving against him until Dabi is shaking. 

Shig catches his chin with two fingers and turns him back to him to give him another hot, open-mouthed kiss. "That's it, baby. Beautiful." He kisses him and slows his movements, letting Dabi come down, but that's not what he wants. He wants more. He wants to be worth the care and consideration that Tomura keeps trying to give him even though he's mostly been a shit to the other man who tried to kill him when they met. 

He kisses back as hard as he can manage when his limbs feel like jelly and tries to get a hand into Duster's pants. "Shig, let me--" 

His words are cut off with another kiss. "Let me see you, baby?" 

He nods weakly, and Shigaraki moves so that he can peel his sticky pants off of his legs. He feels his face heat as he sees what a mess he's made of himself, but Duster is looking at his cum smeared skin like he's going to eat him alive and Dabi doesn't have to ask him this time to have him shifting so that he can take off his pajamas as well. He whimpers when he sees how big the other's cock is, flushed dark at his head and with pretty veins winding along the underside. Shigaraki leans over him again, one of his hands moving down Dabi's body, palming at his soft cock, and Dabi knows immediately with how hot he still is, that he won't stay that way for long. Especially not when Shigaraki's thumb finds his ladder and he starts to tease him there. 

"You're gorgeous, sweetheart." His words come out as a purr and Dabi thinks he's going to boil his brain if Duster doesn't start acting like he is as desperate for release as he must be feeling from how hard he already is. "I want to see you spread open for me, baby boy. Is that alright? Can I fuck your pretty hole, precious?" 

Dabi may incinerate them both if he doesn't. "Please, Tomura--" 

"That's it. Want you to use my name, firefly." He drops a kiss to his forehead and then reaches over to the nightstand, retrieving a half empty bottle of lube as Dabi's cock aches as he starts to fill again so soon. He spreads his legs as wide as he can, tilting his hips up, and Shigaraki doesn't hesitate to push one of the other pillows beneath his hips so that he can keep them at the angle that he wants without strain. He uncaps the lube and squirts some into his hand, letting it warm a bit against his palm as he leans in and drags his mouth across the seam over his collarbone before his lips find a nipple and he starts to kiss, suck, and tease at the bud and his piercing there. He keeps doing that as his fingers trace around his rim, the first touch light and exploratory, but when Dabi pushes back against them instead of flinching away, he starts to move with a lot more sureness. 

His chest is aching and over-sensitive by the time Tomura has two fingers inside of him, his body opening up for him readily between the lingering bliss of his first orgasm and the way every gentle touch is making him hotter than any rough one he's been given since he started having sex. When Shigaraki crooks his fingers and starts to rub and tease against his prostate he has to shove his knuckles between his teeth to keep from making too much noise as his whole body goes incandescent with how good it feels. Shigaraki gives him a third, kisses his cheek, and strokes his cock until he's hard and breathless with the need for more. It's only then that he slips his fingers out and reaches back over to the bedside drawer to try and grab a condom out of the box inside. 

Dabi whines, taking his skin from between his teeth, "Clean," he's always had to be careful because of his seams and how prone to infection he is, but he wants this too much to have something separating their skin. "Tomura, inside, please." 

"Fuck, you're so perfect, baby boy." The words are rough and raw, and his pleading ears Dabi a kiss. Tomura gives another squirt of the lube, not bothering to warm it for himself before he's slicking up his cock and pressing his head against Dabi's hole. Distantly, he realizes that he's never had a cock this big before, but he can't find even an ounce of hesitation inside of him now as Tomura starts to push in. 

Dabi swears his ears are ringing as he feels the other starting to stretch his hole, even just the first inch of him making him breathless. He's never felt his pleasure go so high and Tomura letting out a harsher breath against his lips, a soft growl in his voice when he says, 

"You're so tight, sweetheart," in a way that makes that feel like the highest praise Dabi has ever earned. He mewls weakly, a sound that he's never heard himself make before as Duster sinks inside slowly until his body is impossibly full and his muscles are all but clinging to Tomura's length. He can't stop trembling beneath him, the stretch feeling so good, but completely overwhelming as Tomura peppers his skin with kisses and shushes him softly. He stays still, petting along his body, and making sure that he has the time to adjust, for a long while, like his need is miles away when Dabi's own desperation feels like it's going to make his skin catch. 

When he finally manages to weakly roll his hips up, Tomura takes that for the invitation that it is. He still doesn't fuck him hard. He goes slowly, but his movements are deep and rolling, making his body feel hotter and tighter as they come again and again, Shigaraki making sure that he has his hips angled so that he can brush over his prostate every time his cock drives deep into his heat. It is beyond satisfaction, beyond words, to be fucked like this and Dabi can taste smoke crawling up the back of his throat as he lets the other take him apart. 

He doesn't know how long Tomura is fucking him, barely able to remember to bite his tongue to stay quiet, let alone keep track of anything happening in the world around him. He just knows that by the time he's desperate for his second orgasm, Shigaraki must be dying for his first. But it's still him who slips over that edge again, not even being able to warn him, not even having a hand on his cock. Tomura's just feels so good as it pushes inside of him and rubs over his walls, the stretch so wide and so satisfying, that it practically sneaks up on him and he's suddenly making their stomachs even stickier as he gives one soft whimper as he cums. It heightens both of their pleasure, because his muscles clench tight around Shigaraki's cock, so tight he practically growls as his movements get shallower, keeping his cock deep inside of him for a few more thrusts before Dabi's insides are dripping with warmth as Tomura gives a final rough gasp as he cums. 

Dabi didn't know his body could feel so heavy and so light at the same time as he lays underneath the other man, dazed and blissful as the aftershocks of his orgasm run through him. He gives a soft, fluttery sigh, exhaustion starting to sweep over him as they lay together. Tomura gets his wits about him first, and he starts to shift, starting to pull out and try to move his weight from on top of him, but Dabi doesn't want that. He manages to hook an arm around his shoulders and weakly pulls at him until he settles again, Dabi pushing his face right into his neck. Duster laughs lightly, a soft kiss being pressed to the top of Dabi's hair. 

"You want to stay like this for a little while, firefly?" 

He barely manages a nod, but that's enough for the other man to settle his weight back over him. Dabi is so tired that he can barely keep his eyes open, and he has the fleeting thought that he is absolutely fucked because as good and grounding as it is to have Tomura's weight on top of him is already, he's never going to be able to forget how satisfying it feels to be pressed this close and filled up so gently. 

///

He wakes the next morning achingly hard, warm, and with his muscles fluttering as he feels Tomura's cock still inside of him, cum leaking out of his hole, sticky and thick, because the other clearly stayed inside of him throughout the night. Dabi can't help the loud moan that spills out of him, his body trembling as he catches onto the other's skin, fingers digging into his uninjured shoulder and at his side as he feels how good it is to be full like this. That sound is met with a soft hiss from Tomura as he also rouses and feels their bodies trying to find relief after being so stimulated for so many hours. 

"Fuck, precious, ah--"

Dabi digs his nails in, trying to twitch his nearly numb hips into some semblance of movement, crying out when doing so makes his hard cock rub against Tomura's stomach and send even sharper pleasure over his nerves. It all stings, it's definitely too much, and Dabi wants even more. 

"Ah, baby, can I?" 

"Tomura," he barely manages the word, his voice tiny and shaking badly, but he manages another weak nod and roll of his hips. 

"Fuck, not going to last long, sweetheart." He doesn't know how Shigaraki could possibly think he'd be any better when the first little movement of his hips makes his insides feel like they're on fire, every inch of his walls feeling swollen, aching, and deliciously oversensitive. Neither of them are going to manage the time they took with each other last night. 

When he cums again it's with a sharp ache deep in his balls as he realizes that he must have orgasmed in his sleep as well, because there's hardly a dribble of cum that is added to the mess smeared all between their stomachs. And the little clench of his muscles makes Tomura spill too, groaning lowly in his ear and putting enough cum into him that there's a fresh pulse of it spilling onto the sheets as he does. 

They lay, trembling, together for another long moment before Tomura is pulling out and shifting to catch his lips in another long, sweet kiss that somehow melts Dabi even more. 

///

Fucking Shigaraki doesn't fix his anxiety or whatever that makes him so bad with people and so prone to getting overwhelmed. It doesn't make him need his weighted coat or blanket any less. All it does is give him maybe the first real relationship he's ever had with someone he's sleeping with, and guarantee that the nights he needs to go to him to sleep, Tomura will pepper his face and lips with kisses and tell him how pretty and sweet he is beneath him, even if they don't actually fuck at those times. Dabi doesn't really have words to tell Duster how much he likes all of that, but he does stop calling the other man gross, so he thinks he figures it out. 

And he is definitely going to be running right into his room tonight after how awful this planning session has been. He's never going to say that planning for the inevitable clusterfuck that the summer camp job is going to be easy. Not when the League is home to a couple of grade-A crazies, including a guy who gets distracted by how edible his teammates are, and two young teenagers. On top of that, Muscular's ego and battlelust are just getting more and more frustratingly prevalent as they get deeper into the sessions. Thankfully, after seeing how the hulking meathead could consistently send Dabi into a panic attack whenever he got too close, Shigaraki decided that he would not be Dabi's bodyguard during the infiltration as originally planned. He didn't want Muscular doing something stupid and Dabi going off or shutting down in the middle of a job, putting himself and the others all in danger if he did. So instead the nomu that they were going to have on the perimeter will be shadowing him to keep him safe and Muscular would be far on the outskirts, made even more of an insult because, 

"That's a better place for you anyway since you're still doing so abysmally at avoiding the fake flames during training." Duster says that without even looking up and Dabi has about three seconds to be incredibly, incredibly smug over that comment, Toga snickering in agreement, as Muscular's face flushes a blotchy, ugly red with his anger. 

"The only reason that crispy fuck needs protection is because he can't handle himself." He snarls. Dabi would probably have just rolled his eyes and shrugged that off, savoring in the other's bruised ego, but he doesn't get that chance as the table they had the map laid out on is suddenly flying across the bar, crashing into the far wall with the splintering of wood, as they all give their own startled shouts before Muscular is lunging for him. Dabi hates how he sees blue eyes in his face for a second as he calls up his flames to try and burn him without torching the rest of the bar. But he doesn't even have a chance to send the sparks off of his skin. 

Tomura grabs Goto by one arm, one hand around his wrist, and the other striking the heel of his palm to the skin. His face is twisted into a snarl of his own, looking more vicious than Dabi has ever seen him, as he dislocates Muscular's elbow with a loud pop. The force of the blow makes him go slightly off balance and Shigaraki takes that as an opportunity to use the close combat training that none of them have ever actually had a chance to see before, and he shifts his center of gravity. Muscular practically trips over him, going ass over teakettle and making Dabi have to drop his flames and move a few feet back so that when the other hits the ground, he's not in the way. Tomura doesn't stop there, keeping his injured arm up and locked so that he can't move it, and dropping down to kneel on his chest, a knee pressed into his throat. 

"Do not," He snarls, his voice a thousand times more dangerous than it sounded when he was threatening him during their first meeting. "Ever try to lay your hands on one of your teammates again," He tightens his fingers around Goto's wrist, his single, raised finger getting much closer to his skin. "Or I won't leave you with any hands at all when I'm done. Am I clear?" But he digs his knee tighter into his throat, choking off his air and keeping him there even as he uses his other arm to tap against the floor in surrender. When he tries to reach for Shigaraki to push him off, he drops his raised finger and his skin starts to shatter. His hand immediately drops back to the floor and Shigaraki raises his after another second, just long enough for his skin to be cracked open and blood to be streaming down his arm. He holds him until his face starts to ashen and his eye begins to roll back, and only then does he toss his injured arm aside and push off of the floor. 

Shigaraki takes a breath and then casts his gaze around the room. Dabi manages to look up as well, seeing a mixture of shock, and from Toga, sheer delight, at the display. "If you want to be a part of the League, you follow orders, you look out for one another, and you never raise a hand to your teammates. I am not going to have another party that forgets its goals as soon as they're faced with something they weren't prepared for." 

"Yeah, yup, you got it boss." Magne also sounds a little delighted too, which he wasn't expecting. 

"He doesn't get to see the doctor until tomorrow," He turns to head towards the stairs, clearly ending this session, "Clean up that mess." 

No one even bothers to protest as he leaves, they just watch him until he is out of sight, and even then, no one says a word as they hear his door open and shut upstairs. He feels a little shaky, the spike of his adrenaline from being attacked, and then the sudden rush of not being hurt leaving him feel like his skin isn't sitting over his bones quite right, but he makes himself turn to the others again. He gets a fresher burst of it when he finds they're all looking at him as Muscular tries to push himself up from the floor. 

Toga makes a little shooing motion at him and he feels his face heat again, though this time with a blush. He hadn't thought any of them were aware of what he and Duster have been up to, and he is fairly certain he's blushing all the way down his neck, not that anyone can see it, as he flicks them all off as he turns to go upstairs too. He does end up stomping a little as he goes, but that's not enough to cover up Toga's loud, 

"I told you so!" To the others. He should have burned the entire bar down. He's tempted to go into her room and set her bed on fire. Instead he goes to Tomura's door and taps his knuckles against it too softly for it even to really be a knock, before he's opening the door and slipping inside. Duster looks up at him from the center of his room, his shirt already half off and Dabi sees why immediately. The wound on his shoulder is torn open, blood slipping over his pale skin, and Dabi doesn't say anything. He slips back out into the hall, retrieving the first-aid kit and wetting a washcloth from the bathroom, before he comes back in. 

Neither of them speak as he gets Tomura to sit on the edge of his bed. He pulls the chair over and sits in front of him, dabbing away the blood, making sure that it's not open so deeply that he'll need new stitches, and then putting some antiseptic onto it. It's strange to be helping someone else, having spent all of his life having to bandage his own wounds, but he thinks he does a passible job applying the cotton and taping down the gauze. Tomura doesn't complain or correct him at least, and when he's finished, Dabi lets out a shaky breath and then allows himself the humiliating vulnerability of leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the bandages. 

Duster sighs, a low, slow sound and Dabi sees the tension in him fall away. Then his hand lifts hesitantly towards him, like he thinks that maybe, after being reminded how dangerous his touches are, that he won't want them anymore. But Dabi doesn't flinch. He catches the other's wrist and holds him still as he rests his cheek against his palm, four fingers against his skin. He wonders if the gut-punched desperation in Tomura's expression is the same way that he's looked at the other every time he's held him through a panic attack. He thinks he understands now why Tomura was so good with those now. He thinks he's not the only one who's been 'off-putting' and bad with people his whole life. But Tomura is good with him. Good to him. He's learning. Dabi has always been good at learning too. 

He leans in and this kiss is as achingly tender as their first, their last, and he hopes, their next. 

[astaroth1357]

Most to Least Likely to Cry After Sex

Okay so, this might be a personal thing on my end, but I have long kept a running list of characters that I believe would cry after having sex. It is a perfectly natural response and there is absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about if it happens ... though it is surprisingly entertaining to think about in terms of fictional characters. And of course, I have a list for OM as well.

Contents: Nsfw/suggestive, depending on your definition, but not explicit. Emotional vulnerability explored.

~♡♡♡~

Levi

I think anyone could see this coming. Levi almost certainly has cried or would cry after sex. And depending on what you're doing, he may even cry during sex too.

Bless his little heart, it is 100% because he is always riding an emotional rollercoaster of the highest highs and lowest lows. The realization that somebody out there actually wants to be intimate with him would send his whole body into a meltdown. Have patience.

Mammon

Also kind of a no-brainer. He's only a little less likely to cry than Levi because he's better at putting up a front when he really wants to.

Unlike others on the list, Mammon gets super embarrassed if he gets overwhelmed and cries after sex but he rarely tries to hide it. It's kind of his way of reaching out for more affection, he wants to be coddled and reassured that his partner accepts him no matter what. He thrives on unconditional love like that.

Satan

Hear me out. Satan is canonically a kinky little fucker, I don't think he would cry after an especially "playful" rendezvous. It would be the really soft and intimate moments that get him everytime.

We have to remember, he's still a little new to this whole "experiencing feelings" thing. An emotion as overpowering as love is going to flatten him like a steamroller. He won't even realize that he is crying until his tears start staining the sheets. Be gentle. Talk him through it. Again, it's perfectly natural if it happens.

Belphie

I think Belphie will cry for bratty purposes more than anything else. I am wholly convinced that he will cry on demand if it gets him what he wants.

Lord forbid the MC tries to go anywhere before Belphie is ready because he may just grab onto them and start the waterworks. If you could withstand the full force of a pouty, teary-eyed Belphie begging just "5 more minutes" of cuddling, you're a stronger person than I am.

Simeon

Only lower than the other guys by virtue of having quite the stranglehold on his inner emotions, but he will let them out if he's comfortable to do so.

Let me be clear, Simeon wants to cry everytime. He wants to lose himself completely in his partner and let it all wash over him. It's just the social and moral questions surrounding what's happening that keep him from doing so. (Poor thing #1)

Asmo

Another person who can cry on demand or just get overwhelmed, but it won't happen often.

Put quite simply, Asmo's been around the block. He has a pretty good handle on himself even during his come downs. However, he knows how much it could mean to your partner if you're willing to show that side of yourself to them. So if MC says/does something that genuinely touches him, he will cry without shame.

Diavolo

Would almost certainly get misty-eyed if he was with someone he truly cared about. He may not cry, but he'll have to rub his eyes some.

Make. The. Prince. Feel. Loved. The realization that he has someone that he doesn't have order or trick into staying around would floor him. He's far, far too well-versed in maintaining a certain image to fully breakdown, but those feelings would all still be there regardless.

Lucifer

Also gets misty-eyed, particularly after make-up sex.

He would rather sheath his own nails into the skin of his palms than get caught crying, but if he really screwed something up (and was willing to admit it) then he would get a little vulnerable in the moment. It would be fleeting, though.

Solomon

It can get to him a bit, he's a pretty lonely guy, but he's more likely to make a joke or say something out of the blue just to hide from his feelings.

I don't think Solomon quite lets himself ponder or self-reflect on things that genuinely upset him. He's very goal-driven and future-focused, so indulging in these softer moments would be foreign to him. If he ever feels like crying, he'll immediately try to distract from it rather than letting the feelings out. (Poor thing #2)

Beel

I just don't see him crying. He's very comfortable with himself, he doesn't really repress his emotions, and he knows he's well-liked and well-loved. Beel would be just fine.

It's not a Solomon situation, of course. Beel does self-refect and he genuinely engages with others. I just don't think this would be a shocking level of intimacy to him. He already loves others about this deeply to start with, so just expect a really smiley Beel!

Barbatos

To be clear, Barbatos can cry and he has cried before in his life. It just won't ever be after sex.

Similar to Solomon, I think Barbatos lives his life with a certain level of detachment from the world around him. He wouldn't get overwhlemed after sex because he can't. It's not that his mind is elsewhere, it's that he blocks himself from getting too emotionally invested in such things to begin with. (Poor thing #3)

[sungstars]

how riize lost their virginities

- anton , he didn’t… he’s either waiting till marriage or he just has no plans too anytime soon, he has no reason too but i heavily feel like he is, he gives off virgin energy im sorry

sohee - he experimented with boys but he hasn’t actually lost it yet

wonbin - he prolly put it in someone but he didn’t like the experience (wonbin asexual king),

sungchan - def had sex multiple times prolly even did it with other idols, he’s too bad

eunseok - he prolly only did it once or twice once he was like 20 but he doesn’t see the need to constantly have sex more than a few times. year, only when he’s rlly rlly rlly horny

seunghan - he’s def fucking girl he prolly fucking RIGHT NOWWWW… i feel like he the type to make u do crazy things just bc the dick is thatttt good like

shotaro - it’s obvious he’s had sex. it’s nothing wrong with duality like ik he has a cute personality but like he’s wayy too skilled with every part of his body (esp his hips) to not be putting it to good use

i’m screaming like this made me laugh out loud when i was checking this blog on my break.. oh this made my day in the best way possible. let’s talk about it. i definitely got a bit off topic in most of these!

content warning: talking about sex, loss of virginity minors dni

anton… well yes! i just think he might not have found the right person to have sex with. i dont think marriage is something that he’s particularly waiting for. if it’s how that works out, for sure! i think that he’s just waiting for the right person that he can trust with something so intimate. i dont think he would be the person to slut himself out, but also i think that would be super yummy if he did. i love thinning about anton with a huge dick and doesn’t know how to use it. he’s definitely a hands on learner so it would be quite interesting having sex with him. he probably would accidentally push all the way in because he got lost in pleasure and apologize for it. 100% virgin but after he loses it… a bitch in heat!

sohee… THIS ONE MADE ME LAUGH IN A GOOD WAY LIKE OH I GET IT SOOO BAD. sohee has definitely experienced sexual interactions with boys. make out with a boy? hell do it. go down on one of his members? yeah he’s done it! but fucking a girl? not yet! they make him soooo nervous. i think sohee has plenty of girls who wanna fuck him… he’s just probably super nervous thinking about it because he wouldn’t know what to do even if it was in his face. i think once he found somebody who would takes their time and guide him through it, he would be ready to sleep with a woman! but it just hasn’t happened yet.

wonbin… i fear that i have to disagree. i think wonbin be fucking just not that often! he gets these spurts of where he wants to fuck any and everybody, but after he feels satisfied, it’ll be a good little bit before he wants to have sex again. i think wonbin is a bisexual king who isn’t picky about gender when it comes to sexual or romantic partners. just my honest opinion about it though! i personally just think that he does fuck a lot of people when he feels up to it! well.. i dont think he has to put it in to have fun. he lovesss foreplay. fingering & oral (giving & receiving), dry humping, handjobs, literally tweak his nipples, sloppy make out session and bite him.. that’s probably what he prefers more so than actual sex.

sungchan… definitely think he’s experienced. i’m not saying he’s easy but if you’re pretty and ask him to fuck… he’s definitely not saying no. sungchan lost his virginity and didn’t look back since. the first time he had sex, his partner was genuinely surprised because she thought he was a virgin? he was!! sungchan is just naturally good at sex and probably also took some notes from amateur porn on twitter. sungchan is definitely a man of pleasure and would prefer to take care of his partner before he takes care of himself. a selfless lover if you will.

eunseok… mm i fear i have to disagree slightly. i think eunseok gets down because he’s a freak nasty bitch. however, i think he prefers to keep it to one partner like anton. eunseok started out as a freak weirdo loser (in a hot way) so when he lost his virginity, he was completely lost and the girl definitely was confused because she thought eunseok would know what to do! looks can be deceiving. however now, i think because he knows what he’s doing, he definitely does fuck somebody frequently!

seunghan… definitely gets down the most out of all of them. i think seunghan is like eunseok & anton in regards to having just one partner instead of sleeping around / seeing multiple people. i think he’s also a freak nasty guy who knows how to use his dick. definitely has girls crazy over him because of how good his dick game is. while i think he has fun fucking, i definitely can see him like wonbin where he likes foreplay. i also think he can be a bit of a selfish lover! sometimes he focuses more so om pleasure than his partner , but when he realizes that’s what he’s doing hell definitely make up for it!

shotaro… FREAKKKKK. FREAK. NASTY. FREAKY NASTY. shotaro gets DOWNNNNN. shotaro has bitches lined up for every day of the week if he feels up to it. his cute persona is a TRAP. you think he’s super goofy and silly, which he is! but in bed he’s fucking nasty as fuck. gag on it! choke on it! cry! hell spit in your mouth and choke you out. shotaro gets down and always leaves somebody wanting more. too bad he doesn’t really see the same person more than twice if he can help it!

end!