#finding that match can be satisfying as hell

[dreamhot]

i think george is getting an editor or at least looking into it. in the extra scenes video dream said george has multiple videos to go up they just need to be edited, and when dream was talking about hiring editors only george was chiming in on that conversation so. i think he’s very particular about how his content is and it would take a lot for him to give up that control and he would probably look through hundreds of editor applications if he could. but i also think now he’s in florida the desire to cling onto editing (even though he hates it) is dissipating because he’d much rather be spending his time out with dream and sapnap

yeahhh and like. him and dream in particular have such distinct editing styles that i would certainly hate to see that get sacrificed with someone who isn't gonna capture that same energy, so i def wouldn't blame either of them for being picky. not everyone can make a 40 min video engaging the entire way through

[hazbin-writings-and-musings]

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Smutty Headcanons

I promised on this LM x Reader post things would get spicy soon, so here we are, coming so far from my first post! Just the first of probably many more smutty Lucifer posts, because we all know this man fucks and we all want a piece.

Warnings: SMUT

- This man legitimately loves everything about eating pussy. He loves performing it, he loves bragging about how well he performs it, he loves giving tips because he believes in respecting the craft, and he loves putting down anyone too entitled to provide what he sees as this most enjoyable of services for one's partner. You don't even have to ask him to go down on you, it'll be one of the first things he offers, and he'll regularly ask if you're interested in letting off a little steam. Having the ability to extend and shapeshift his tongue into having an opposable forked tip makes him capable of techniques beyond your wildest fantasies, and whether you like to receive from above or below, he's equally down to have you seated on his face or laying back to enjoy yourself.

- He's not poorly or overly endowed for a man of his size, but he's also quite literally the one who originally proved that size doesn't matter in the slightest, and he's had thousands of years to perfect those original techniques. From position to tempo, he's mastered everything he needs to hit the G-spot with impeccable accuracy, and his hands will be quite busy seeking out where you most enjoy attention as he rides you with the power and virility of an untamed stallion. All this combined results in a mind blowing time for you, every time, and he's got the stamina to answer all of your repeated requests for another round.

- Nevermind the magic he can work with his tongue or his dick, the King of Hell is also a wizard with his fingers. He's even got a carpal tunnel roller just to keep his dexterity in top shape for when his skills are needed. Finding your clit is effortless for him, and he'll show it all the love he thinks you deserve, responding eagerly to your feedback in the moment and putting his mouth to use on your neck as he does so. Whether you want him inside, outside or both at the same time, he's happy to provide, and he'll gladly push his wrists to the limit if it leaves you properly satisfied.

- If you offer to be the one servicing him, he'll happily accept, and you'll quickly find his mannerisms shift quite considerably when he's on the receiving end. He starts out confident, offering banter to match your own, but as soon as your mouth gets to work, his demeanor changes. A grin becomes an open mouthed moan, his hands tenderly take hold of you to ground himself, and witty quips turn to soft and needy sighs. The more heated things get, the more he loses himself, but it's a great way for you to gauge how well you're performing. Growls and an appearance of his horns are a sign he's really having a good time, especially considering he's always got steam to blow off. Particularly rough days will result in him losing all control by climax; fully extended wings and horns, an unfurled tail he wraps about you, hair disheveled and clinging to a fine layer of sweat, and more than a few reality bending bursts of power surging around the both of you. It's his favorite way to end the day on a good note. He'll pull his fingers from your hair as he breathlessly apologizes for the show, but the both of you know watching him go feral is part of the fun.

- The afterglow is peak cuddle time for him, and he'll be in no hurry to get dressed if there's somewhere either of you needs to be, so more than a few of his duties will end up delayed thanks to post-coital bliss. All six wings will seek you out for a fluffy embrace, and if the two of you are at all winded, the otherworldly softness of Archangel feathers might make staying awake quite impossible. Should you have some energy to spare though, he'll want to actively enjoy the snuggle. Hearing you breathe, feeling his skin against yours, and engaging in pillow talk just make him the happiest little guy. Such moments really allow him to let his guard down, and you might hear him speak with a softness and hopefulness that rarely leaves the bedroom, but he's just as interested in listening as he is in talking. Don't be too surprised if he drifts off with his head in your boobs though.

[neckromantics]

You find that now Astarion’s able to feed regularly on “quality” blood, the stronger he becomes, and with that strength comes certain abilities he didn’t know he could possess.

In 5e, vampire spawn are supposed to be pretty strong and fast. (As well as possessing regenerative powers, and spider climb among a few other things.) So, what if Astarion’s lack of super strength and other such things is due to the way he was kept weakened under Cazador’s control?

Like maybe he’s recently fed and he feels especially great this time. Neither of you really think much of it. (You’re just happy he feels good. Happy to see the flush of pink at the tips of his ears and apples of his cheeks.) Maybe you’re in the middle of a fight and you get careless. You hear the swish of a blade at your back, but never feel an impact. You turn to see that Astarion’s saved your ass the only way vampire instinct knew how in that moment, which was to just reach out and grab your attacker’s sword before it could spill any of your precious blood. By the blade.

If he wasn’t wearing those special armored gloves you’d found a few days before he’d probably have lost a few fingers. The steel bends back in his grip as if it’s made of rubber, and there’s a very comical split second where your heads snap toward one another to share matching looks of “what the fuck??” Before the fighting continues.

MAYBE one day you watch the guy get stabbed. Like, impaled in a way that should have meant Withers is about to be dragged out here by his dusty ass robes to perform some quick resurrecting or else. It takes longer than you’d like to get free enough to make a break for him, but when you do you nearly knock poor Shadowheart on her ass in your hurry to pass. Every millisecond feels like an hour. Your heart pounds in your ears so loudly that you can’t hear the scream of the creature before him as you take it down with a single blow.

In hindsight, you must have looked ridiculous. Overdramatic, even, considering you don’t have time to fuss over him as he lie bleeding like you assumed he would be. Your hands tremble in front of you as you watch him stand up from his crouched position. His pretty face is screwed up in a way that you first assumed meant great pain, but now you realize he’s just ? Surprised? Well, that makes two of you at least.

Astarion’s leather armor hits the dirt with a dull thud. With pursed lips and a bit of a hum, he’s lifting up the hem of his bloodied tunic. Pale fingers swipe thick crimson away from his belly to reveal the soft, unmarred skin that lay beneath. You nearly faint right then and there, and that asshole just laughs. Positively elated.

After a moment, a long moment, you start to laugh alongside him. It’s shaky with relief. Disbelief.

He plants a quick, cheeky kiss to the side of your head for your heroic efforts, anyway. You just learn to roll with it.

Maybe one day you walk into your room at the Elfsong, and nearly jump out of your skin when you find him sitting cross-legged on the ceiling. Just full on chilling, looking pleased as punch to have found something else he didn’t know was possible for him. You obviously just stand there and stare at him like ??? for a while. It’s endearing how happy he looks with that smug little smirk, pale curls wild and clothes sitting odd on his frame from the change in gravity.

When you ask, all he can really say is that it just kind of happened? That he very suddenly felt like being up, and logically that meant he should try crawling up the wall to satisfy that craving. He’d been up there for a couple hours before you showed up- even took a little bit of a rest to pass the time. You wish you were there to see his face when he found out- to hear the mad little giggles that spilled from his lips when he stood up from his scuttling and just hung upside down in disbelief because why in the hells didn’t he find out about this one sooner?

(Maybe if you ask nicely, he’ll bring you up there with him on his back just so you can see how strange everything looks from high up on the ceiling. Maybe you’ll use it as an opportunity to scare the ((figurative)) pants off of Gale when he eventually comes looking for you. Endless entertainment.)

Anyway, you feed the guy regular enough and I imagine there is so much to discover about him that the two of you will be entertained for years to come. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll wake up to a fluffy white bat flying circles around the ceiling of your bedroom, and at that point it won’t even be a real surprise to you.

[inflamedrosenkranz]

"Now that I Am Perfect, Will You Be My Prize?"

So Viktor just... disappears sometimes? But where on earth does he go?

Actually, Vikor:

Also, Viktor:

Still, Viktor:

Again, Viktor:

Once more, Viktor:

Finally, Viktor:

Okay we get it Viktor, judging by the way you flirt with Jayce and react when he rejects you or when you kill him by assimilating him into your matrix (i.e. by destroying the world and humanity); or how you imply that life without him is but "fields of dreamless solitude" and that you had hoped he would be your "prize to perfection", it seems clear that you disappear to have flings and dalliances with other men in the brothels of Zaun and Piltover to satisfy some basic needs because you think you can't have him...

# In the first gif, in fact, Vee left to find Singed in order to obtain Shimmer, the only way for him to survive # But at no point is it implied or stated that he goes to see him often # And to tell the truth, given how horrified and upset he was when, as a child, he found out what Singed was doing to Rio # It is obvious that after that, he never saw him again # So that leaves open the question: where the hell does Viktor go all those other times he disappears without a trace? # So, given his flirtatious behavior towards Jayce, I thought it was funny to assume that—

# Ah, those languorous eyes when he tells him his name in E2/S1! # And how he remembers that instant in E9/S2 (yes, for me it's Viktor's memory and not Jayce's, although it can be attributed to both of course, or just to Jayce) # The whole scene, and especially the look he gives Jayce, are clearer in his reminiscence than they were in reality # His eyes shine even brighter than ever and stand out from the rest # As if to symbolically convey the idea that at that moment he had been illuminated by Jayce # And also how, to cover up the fact that they were trying to break into Heimerdinger's lab, he pretends he was sneaking Jayce back into his bedroom in the middle of the night

# As for the last six gifs/images (from E6/S2) # He enters the room in the same way as Mel before him, going so far as to imitate her walk # And their outfits have exactly the same color scheme: white, gold and black # To complete the match with Puppet Viktor's appearance, Mel even wears a tunic that covers her body and head for the very first time in the series, contrasting with her more revealing outfits in previous episodes

# Also in this scene, she tries to convince Jayce that if she only saved the two of them and not the others in the explosion, it wasn't on purpose, because she wasn't yet aware of her powers # And Viktor tries one last time to convince Jayce to join him, even though his ex-partner destroyed his original body 2 episodes earlier # So it seems they're both competing to get Jayce's attention and win back his favor # And it's almost as if Viktor wants to say to Jayce: "I walk like Mel, I look like her and now I have a body that no longer suffers from any limitations; a strong body that can fight, float in the air, contort itself at will…" # "So do you love me now, Jayce, do you love me now that my body is as perfect as your's and Mel's?" # "I'm cured now, and I'll never grow old, but *she* will, and maybe she'll even get sick or disabled as the years go by and ultimately become less lovable and desirable, just like I was before" # "And so she's got powers now, too?" # "Except mine are better, and at least I have complete control over them, unlike her" # "How pathetic that she could only save you both, when I can save all humanity!" # "Then please, look how I've become better than her and infallible, Jayce, and reconsider" # "So will you end up choosing me over her, now?" # "Now that I am perfect, will you be my prize?"

# And so most likely, Viktor's puppets are based on Mel # They all have a female body shape # It can't be a coincidence; maybe he thinks that if he'd been a woman, if he had been like Mel, Jayce would have taken him as a lover... # But they're also based on his idealized vision of the inhabitants of Piltover: rich, beautiful, adorned with gold, white with purity (supposedly...) and able-bodied # And on Jayce, as well # Because, note that white and gold were also the color scheme of Jayce's clothes in the past # But this scene shows Jayce wearing black for the first time # At the very moment when Viktor comes dressed in his [Jayce's] old colors to plead his own case with him # It's another way of symbolically showing their "divorce"

# Still it is that, armed with the new confidence granted by a flawless mechanical body, Viktor hopes not only to convince, but also to seduce Jayce # By choice or by force # As shown by the scene in which he imprisons him in a provocative and domineering manner # Perhaps he hopes to awaken some desire in his former friend # To sway his resolve # Or because he sincerely believes that this is how you inspire love in someone, or make them genuinely rally to your cause # Or perhaps he simply wishes to take his revenge on existence by exercising a power he'd never dreamed of having before # Since he's clearly on a power trip

# But Jayce rejects him one last time and sides with Mel # Hence the sad, disappointed look on his face when Jayce replies that he's long been dead to him # And the tear his puppet sheds # Then, his shocked, defeated look and his prostration in the astral plane, and Sky coming to his rescue # He's not only recovering from the physical attack he suffered but from the psychological shock of having been shunned for good by the other man # At this point, he's heartbroken by Jayce # And it's then that he chooses to launch the Glorious Evolution process # Because he's suffering from his former partner's rejection, and so he doesn't want to feel anything anymore # All he wants is to forget Jayce # And I think that all these giffed elements tend to suggest two things # The first is that he's down bad for Jayce, and probably have been from the start # The second is that he sees Mel as a contender for the other man

# Our guy Viktor is fruity af # Prove me otherwise

[ode2rin]

SAY YES TO ME ~ ❀ ·˚

content/warnings. 1.7k+ wc | husband!reo x gn!reader | characters are aged up to late twenties | just lovesick reo asking you to be his valentine's date :> | pure fluff | minimal proofread

𓆩♡𓆪 in which: your husband, reo, just knows exactly how to make you say yes.

For the first time in his life, Reo had never been happier to be the CEO of his company. 

He couldn't recall feeling as alive even when he first inherited the position. While he appreciated the benefits and authority, nothing compared to the freedom of controlling his own time.

As soon as the clock struck 12 pm, Reo sprang to his feet, driven by a sense of purpose akin to a man on a mission. His determined strides echoed against the perfectly marbled tiles of his office floor as he made his way to the elevator. It was five hours earlier than his usual clock-out time, but today was an exception.

Because today was Valentine’s Day— and he had better plans than sitting around skimming through papers that hardly made any sense anymore because his mind was already consumed with thoughts of you, as if he didn’t spend most of his time doing exactly that anyway.

Before finally leaving his office floor, Reo made a beeline for his secretary’s desk to ensure the finishing touches were being made according to his instructions.

“Everything must be ready before we arrive,” he declared to his secretary, his tone more of a command than a request. This was serious business, after all. In fact, none of the investor deals he signed earlier this day would measure up to the importance of this one task at hand.

“Yes, sir,” his secretary replied cautiously.

Satisfied, he stepped into the elevator. His eagerness to see you was so evident— anyone can tell. He wasn’t hiding it, not even trying one bit to do so. From the way he pressed the lobby button twice, checked his watch incessantly for the past few hours, and tapped his wingtip against the elevator floor as if its speed could hasten his journey home— everyone can tell that his very own company building was the last place on earth he wanted to be.

Well, he supposed anyone with someone precious waiting for them at home would understand his seemingly pathetic behavior.

Pathetic, lovesick, whipped— you’ve reduced him to every synonym for such. 

Not that it concerns him; what's more concerning is that he's not bothered by any perception tied to it. If he hadn't outgrown that teenage angst and was still chasing bits to fuel his ego, then it would have been a different story. He would have been hypersensitive to what bystanders thought of him. Now, older and wiser, he couldn’t care less about what they meant to prying eyes or big tabloids. None of their opinions were yours, so none of them mattered.

The journey back home was tenfold more insufferable than the time spent in the elevator. He kept his eye on his chauffeur in the rear-view mirror, and if he squinted enough, he could see the beads of nervous sweat forming at the poor man’s temple. He sighed to himself, seemingly reprimanding his own improper behavior. Hell, what was happening to him? He wasn't even an impatient man to begin with. All because of Valentine’s Day—all because he couldn’t wait to see you.

He got it real bad, as his longtime best friend would like to say. One he couldn't find it in himself to deny. It was true, anyway.

He didn't know when or where it started, but one random night four years ago, he woke up in a cold sweat, and the realization that he was hell deep in love with you gnawed on his center to his throat. So in love it set his heart on fire, all while being in love with the one person who lit the match.

Rumors were true— love never aligned with logic, intricate planning, none of what he excelled at as a businessman. And so, he abandoned logic and acted exactly as his heart had been urging him to. 

The very moment the sun peeked over the horizon that fateful day, he was on his feet, his jet waiting to fly him to wherever the finest diamond engagement rings reside.

It was the best decision he had ever made in his life because if he hadn’t, then he wouldn’t be standing at the entrance of your shared home, his grin widening with each approaching step he hears. You’re bustling around the house just to welcome him home—so, no, he couldn’t have it any other way. The mere thought of doing things differently made his heart leap into his throat, while a hollow feeling settled in his chest.

“Love! Welcome home!” you greet him, your lively voice warming Reo’s heart as it makes its way to him.

Even before you could throw your arms around his shoulders and kiss him senselessly to welcome him home, you're met with a bundle of red roses he had taken from his back.

“You shouldn’t have bothered,” you blushed, resembling the vibrant flowers he bought on the way home.

“Nothing is ever a bother when it comes to you,” he mused, big amethyst eyes sparkling back at you.

Ever the sweet talker, you looked at your husband who was now peering over you and the roses you’re cradling.

“Okay, Mr. Charming. To what occasion do I owe this?” you play pretend, your voice tinged with playful curiosity.

Instead of an immediate response, you felt his hands traveling to the small of your back, pulling you close against his embrace. His lips grazed your cheek, before whispering in your ear, “Be my Valentine?”

Here he goes again, you thought. “I’ve been married to you for the last four years, if I remember correctly,” you pointed out to him, keeping your smile to yourself.

That’s not a yes. Huffing, Reo pulled back from your hug to look you in the eye, “Your point being? There are no rules in marriage that say I can no longer ask you on Valentine’s day– if I remember correctly,” and he even had the pettiness to mock your tone.

“Wow, my husband is a bit sassy today, isn’t he?” 

My husband, he repeats in his mind, and just like that, all sassiness and pettiness came flying straight out of the window. “I love being your husband,” he blurted out, totally unrelated to your previous banter.

“Oh, really, now?” you teased, feigning the warmth it sent to your chest.

He does, truly and definitely. A man like him is widely known for what he has– for the possessions under his name and for the power it holds. Yet here he was, wrapped around your arms, and suddenly, being your husband has been the best he has been called and known for.

There was no weight, no expectations, and no pressure tied to it— just love dripping in every letter. There’s no one he would rather be.

“Yeah, am I doing a great job?” smiling at you, he asks, “I’m not losing the charms, am I?”

“Trust me, you’re very much good at it,” you fondly brushed the strands of hair covering his eyes, “and you’re not losing the charms,” you quoted.

“Really? So if I were to ask again, would you say yes?”

“With or without your ‘charms’, you know exactly how to make me say yes.”

Reo let out a hearty laugh at your remark. “You’re right,” his fingers reached out to your left ring finger, where his oath of forever lay glimmering.

God— he really did that. He put a ring on it. It was his name next to yours, his rings on your hand, his bed you share, and his forever you spend with. Four years and more to come, but Reo was certain he would never get over it.

Before his rationality left him and wrecked his own plans, Reo caressed your back, his hands moving dangerously low down your hip and giving it a squeeze, “Still wanna hear it from you though,” he mumbled softly against your lips, “So, what do you say in letting this poor man take you on a date as his valentine?”

You drew closer to his hold, your arms finding their place around his neck, hands occupied with the flowers now resting on his back, “I say,” you pressed your lips as if trying to think, “I’d like some kiss and maybe hear a please first—”

You couldn’t even finish teasing him because in a heartbeat, Reo closed the distance, seizing your lips in a fierce, hungry kiss drowning out the sound of words with an intensity that left no room for second guessing his invitation. Nothing about Mikage Reo was silent and subtle– not even when he kissed you. It had to be breathless, deep, urgent, and parting your lips in surrender.

His hands found their way, trailing with purpose along your spine, while his other traced the curve of your jaw with a feather-light touch. Teasing fingers then tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, desperate for more.

He pulled back first, leaving you light-headed. He flashed you one smirk, lips almost melting into yours.

“Please?”

Fuck. You didn’t need to be asked thrice. You nodded your head aimlessly, earning a chuckle from him. “Go then, pack some clothes. Our jet is waiting for us.”

“Jet? Did you mean car?” Where the hell was he taking you to use a jet for?

Seemingly reading the question on your face, he answered, “I know what I said, love. We’re going to Paris.”

“What?!” you exclaimed, squirming from his hold completely, “We could just dine somewhere close, Reo.”

Now, who told you he only had dinner in mind? Who did you take him for? You shouldn’t be surprised anymore— there’s nothing in this world that would come close to the satisfaction he got from spending lavishly on you. It was a reminder that he could and most certainly would give you everything you wanted. “You don’t like Paris?”

You tried to reason, heavy on the try so it seemed because you soon realized it was a mistake clarifying your point, “I mean, I do but—”

“I think I heard enough, love,” a sheepish smile formed on his lips, “I’ll wait for you here, alright?”

You rolled your eyes at him before retreating to your shared bedroom to prepare for freaking Paris. Of course, you're going. There’s really no winning against him, you’ve known that ever since. He longed to prove to you that he always had the irresistible charm of making you say yes.

Not that you'd ever thought of saying no. The ring weighing your finger down could attest to that.

note. been seeing people saying their partners no longer ask them valentines bec they're tgt alr... reo would never do that btw do better

another note (pls tolerate me). i'm pretty sure i'm fighting for my life when this gets posted (it's qd!!) so here's me wishing all of you a happy hearts day 🩷

[r0-boat]

Mammon Nsfw Alphabet

Cw: Heavy Size kink, ownership, Poly mentions

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Mammon is the king of aftercare; he'll gladly provide anything you want, even if you don't like it. Having your small body against his chest? He would love to! Bruises in bite marks on your skin? He always keeps bandages and first aid in every room, just in case. Does your smell body smell of his cum and sweat? He'll have his servants draw a warm bubble bath with your favorite scented items. And he'll be with you the whole time purring praises of how much he loves you and how good your water and charcuterie board filled with meats, cheeses, and crackers, as well as sliced fruits are always a must. He'll even hand-feed it to you if you let him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your ass, thighs are close second but what he really wants is those soft plush cheeks right above that he just can't keep his hands off.

Your cheeks are so lovely and warm, especially when they burn red from his handprint.

It's so soft and inviting. It's just calling him in his teeth into it. You're so small your little ass fits perfectly in his hands. And he could hold you while slamming you down right on him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He doesn't care if he feels you up or covers you and cum he gets that same satisfaction that he is marked you as his. If he had to choose one of the other he would say covering you and come It's a demon territorial thing. Especially when he's coating your backside and having cum land on your ass.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Guilty is charged for him buying you certain clothes that just do happened to compliment your ass or any part of you he finds sexy (which is every part). But he has to be more discreet about it since any provocative outfit you would decline.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Mammon in his 'youth' of his first millennia of being king he had many concubines, before you and even Solomon. He had grown tired of each one and no longer has them, now you are the only one in the world from heaven hell and earth he wishes to court. He hopes you're satisfied with his vast experience ;)

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mammon likes positions where he can grab, hold, or press against you. He especially likes the positions that emphasize how small you are compared to him. He likes holding you up against the wall and slamming into you; He likes looming over you, His giant mountain of a body covering your entire field of vision. He likes showing off his whole body while drilling you with each punishing thrust.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

In the middle, He likes to tell you how cute you are like this underneath him; He likes to talk to you while he's serving you with his mouth and fingers. He likes to flaunt how much wealth he can give you when he is sliding the head of his cock up and down your entrance.

He's not that goofy but he does talk a lot.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Mammon I would say naturally would have a fair amount of drapes with a happy line, but he will groom in any way you want him to You want more hair than he'll grow it out, You wanted to be shaved? Gladly! His body is yours.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

What he loves doing is making an impression, He loves to impress and flaunt like a proud peacock, Grand gestures and displays of his love. Romantic dinner dates that make you feel like royalty. He will make you feel like the most important thing in the world because you are.

He'll rent out resort in Abyssos for a Valentine's Day gift

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As much as he wants to save his cum for only you, He thinks about you so often he can't help but have his hand play with his cock. To see your ass swaying alone makes him want to fuck you. But he will absolutely let you know that when he touches his cock it's only for you He's thinking of nothing else then how much he craves and desires you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Other than your ass, or anal He has a lot

Size Kin,k: is one of his most significant, tiny, fragile humans who does so many things to his perverted mind. He wants to take care of you, hold, hug, kiss, and carry you. At the same toys, he wants to break you like what he used to do with his sex toys. He loves loves loves watching his huge cock struggle to fit in your tiny hole. He loves forcing your legs apart to go even deeper. He loves your screams and cries of how big he is on, how he's tearing you apart, and how he can't fit anymore. He will make it fit... He always does. Nothing in the world made him come the fastest then watching your throat bulge with his big cock.

He doesn't quite understand the word 'cuteness aggression' But he does know 100% for a fact he gets that with you.

Creampie: something about his inhuman amount of come running down your thigh turns the infernal part in his demon brain on.

Ownership/pet play: if you want a dog, He's on his knees, no question. Do you want to be his pet? Get ready for the role, as it is a perfect little thing. You do know the safe word, do you? Don't worry he treats all of his pets with great care. He doesn't want you to be in a collar; oh no, he wants you to be utterly naked until he finds an outfit for you. You will be nude in his lap at the next meeting as his big hand is placed on your head, scratching it. He will revel in the jealous, envious looks from All of the Seven Deadly Sins. He will especially like Asmo biting his nails, which gives him a nasty glare.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Any location he damn well pleases, with a snap of his fingers any place no matter where can be a location where he could bend you over the nearest object. He prefers to do it in clean locations because that's what you deserve. But if You want to be taken in a dirty alleyway who is he to deny you what you wish.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You, You wearing his things; You sitting in his lap; you with those big doe eyes staring at something you saw in a shop. Other kings that brag about fucking you (Beel). That big smile on your face as you exist at your best.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything you wouldn't want him to do, if you have turn offs then he has turn offs. If you're not enjoying anything then he isn't enjoying it. All his pleasure comes from your pleasure.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As much as he loves your tiny throat around his cock, He prefers to give oral. He wants you to break down on his tongue as he rings out every orgasm he can.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual at first, then fast and rough. You're a tiny human, so he must wait a bit for you to adjust to his sheer size. It's okay. He likes the fact that you can feel every throb, twitch, and vein of his meaty cock.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Oh my god yes, quickies King of greed loves quickies. He's greedy He wants to get most out of his day if he has the small amount of time to fuck you he will, Even if he doesn't get to cum that doesn't matter He could be in and out of meetings or business appointments and he could be fucking you in the hallways or just before the meeting start. He could have you just sitting in his lap in his office.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Risk? Is it really risky if he owns everything?? He is one of the most powerful men in all of hell if he can't win it in a fight he will buy it. But if it's sexually experimenting then yeah he'll do anything you want to do

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He has the stamina of a God; Even if he finally goes soft it'll only lasts for about 30 minutes before he wants more.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

After MC explains what a dildo actually is I'm pretty sure he starts having a collection of toys, from vibrators to bondage to gags, He also has a nice array of collars. He definitely likes collecting them especially because it's one of the very few things he doesn't own.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Nope He doesn't tease, He doesn't mind being tease. When he wants something and he doesn't like to not get it It just makes him more eager to have it in the end

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's not the loudest devil king. But he isn't quiet either, with mostly growls then moaning or groaning. She does like to chit chat though. He can't stop talking about you, praising or degrading.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

The only devil king that doesn't mind sharing you because that means you're more greedy. And who could he, Mammon, be one to deny such greed? Everything is his in the end; Satan, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Lucifer, belphigore, and even Asmodeus. and since he naturally belongs to you All these kings are yours too.

That doesn't mean he'll give you up easily to another devil. He'll make sure that he is The most willing and eager to serve.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Hole resizer 9000, uncut and is a grower.

His balls aren't as swollen or as heavy as Lucifer's But still pretty big

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He isn't as insatiable as asmodeus or Beelzebub. But probably won't just be satisfied after one fuck.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Nope, He has enough energy, But if you fall asleep then he will go to sleep with you if not he'll just tuck you in, or either lay beside you and read a book. This man will not leave your side

[ozzgin]

[Baki Masterlist]

Yandere! Pickle x Reader

"Was that Hanayama on the phone?" you inquire slightly distracted. "What did he want?"

"I'll explain more on the way, (Y/N). I know it's a bit sudden, but we should hurry."

Baki grabs your wrist with gentle confidence and begins to sprint lightly, allowing you to match his pace.

"What the hell? Did something happen?" you increase your speed without complaints, though you'd like to know why you just started running like a madman.

"Remember that caveman we saw on TV?"

"Pickle? Yeah, how is that-" your mouth hangs open for a few more seconds as you process the information, and as everything finally clicks into place you furrow your brows at the young boy. He quickly turns his head to glance at you and flashes an apologetic smile.

"I just wanted to see him with my own eyes. Aren't you curious, too?"

You press your lips together and just look ahead. When Baki is like this, there's no point in arguing. The two of you have developed this dynamic of a little brother looking for trouble and the older sibling going along with it, too softened by their affection to say no.

You assume you've reached your destination when a large group of men are standing close together, observing something in frightened silence. You push past them and notice Hanayama, standing casually in front of the large man that's been making the headlines for the past days. Your eyes trace the heavy dents and cracks left in the asphalt, somewhat regretful for missing the event that caused them.

Pickle turns around, following Hanayama's gaze. Among the terrified expressions there's a small boy grinning with excitement. Next to him is an even smaller human who immediately reminds Pickle of the woman that had approached him upon his arrival. His eyes widen as he takes in the soft features and smooth frame. The tiny human returns the stare, although with detached indifference. Pickle can feel his heart throbbing loudly in his chest. He doesn't sense any fear and that entrances him greatly.

"Hey, come on, don't be like that." Baki snaps him back to reality. "I've been looking forward to seeing you, you know? I wanted to meet you so badly! When I heard you escaped, I asked Hanayama to keep an eye out for me."

Pickle extends his fist, seemingly unimpressed by the monologue, and Baki doesn't hesitate to return the gesture. Within seconds Baki finds himself flipped upside down, but he quickly readjusts himself and lands safely, struck with amazement.

"Isn't that aikido?!" you gasp in disbelief, sharing Baki's reaction. Pickle immediately picks up on the fact that you've observed him and a satisfied smile appears on his face. Were you impressed by his newly acquired skills? Whatever bizarre techniques these humans were throwing at him weren't hard to decipher nor reproduce.

Pickle's musings are interrupted by a strong kick to the face. Baki barely manages to contain himself. He's panting and sweating with feverish anticipation.

Before Pickle can react, the tiny human swings her arm and whacks the boy behind his head.

"Oi! What's the matter with you? This is the kind of face you make when seeing your girlfriend, not some random museum exhibit. Tone it down or I'll let Kozue know what kind of pervert she's dating!"

"It's not like that!" Baki rubs his freshly earned wound in embarrassment. "And you didn't have to hit me that hard. You're going to scare Pickle off."

The large prehistoric man watches the exchange. He doesn't understand what they're saying, but the body language indicates that they're close. Are they mates? He becomes slightly irritated at the thought. He wants to know the pretty looking human better, but it now seems there's an obstacle in the way. He'll take care of it.

***

Pickle starts walking away, guiding his new friends down the busy streets of Tokyo until they reach the underground arena. Despite Tokugawa's anger upon finding the escape artist, you whistle in admiration. You wish you had this kind of spatial orientation.

"So, what is it you want to do now that you've brought us here?" Baki is the first one to break the silence.

"Baki, isn't it obvious what you're gonna do here? You know what's done here, don't you? He's picking a fight with you!" Tokugawa exclaims, the scolding attitude from a moment ago long forgotten.

The light above you is abruptly dimmed and you look up to see that Pickle is somehow standing inches away, towering over with a wide grin. How did it bypass your attention? Tokugawa lets out a yell of surprise; Hanayama and Baki immediately switch to a defensive stance. They didn't expect this.

"W-what is he doing?" the old man mumbles in fear.

Pickle places a heavy hand on your head and ruffles your hair lightly. You stare in confusion, unsure how to react. He bends over for a brief moment and inhales in rapid intervals, as if inspecting your scent. Once satisfied, he growls at you - perhaps in an attempt to communicate - and turns back to Baki.

"Is it possible he likes (Y/N)?" Hanayama hums, weighing his thoughts.

"In that case, maybe he sees Baki as his rival?" Tokugawa points out.

"Hmmm. Then it should make this fight even more entertaining." Hanayama continues.

"I'm in the room, you know? You're talking as if I'm some meat on display." you groan in annoyance.

"Sorry, sorry, (Y/N). We'll clear things up with Pickle after this, alright? Until then let me have my fun, please~" he pouts and looks at you with pleading eyes.

The large man grinds his teeth in anger as he's witnessing this clear display of disrespect. He's just announced his intentions to claim you, and this human half his size is mocking him in plain sight. He'll make sure he never gets up again. With a thrust, he lands his foot on Baki's chest and sends him flying into the public seating. The poor young boy gasps for air and passes out almost instantly.

Pickle begins to approach him in heavy, menacing steps. Hanayama raises his arms in his signature stance, pondering whether or not to interfere in someone else's fight. You don't share his battle etiquette and plant yourself in the path of the Jurassic man.

"That's enough. You've won." you claim in a low, assertive demand.

Pickle puckers his lips in surprise and curiosity. His eyebrows are raised and he stops to consider. Are you trying to protect your mate? Do you not understand how these things work? He's stronger and therefore entitled to his prize. Why wouldn't you want a partner that's more capable of protecting you, anyways? It makes no sense.

He gently presses your shoulder in an attempt to move you out of the way, but it doesn't seem to do much. He increases the force to the point he can feel your arm muscles contracting and flexing, though you still don't budge. His mouth opens slightly and he lets out an inquiring growl.

Looking into your eyes, he catches a glimpse of the same determination he saw in the man he fought recently. A smile widens on his face, revealing his polished fangs. To think that such a small body is holding so much tenacity. He's very proud of himself for finding a fitting partner.

You haven't attacked him so far, so he guesses you've reached a similar conclusion. You're probably asking him to let the feeble human live with his loss. He can, of course, show this courtesy for your sake. He lifts you by the waist and holds you above his head. He can finally take his time admiring your features. He wants to etch them into his memory, down to the finest detail.

"Well...that stopped him at least." Tokugawa comments with his arms folded, standing awkwardly before the bizarre scene.

"I doubt he'll harm (Y/N), so let's get Baki out of here." Hanayama climbs up the stairs towards the unconscious boy. "Can we leave you alone with Pickle for now, (Y/N)? I'm sorry for putting you into this situation."

"I should manage", you sigh in defeat. Once again you're left to deal with the mess. You pat Pickle's head in an attempt to secure your safety even further. The large man is elated and lets out some high pitched sounds that reverberate across the arena. He even dares to wonder if his awakening was something meant in order to meet you. That's how he feels right now, at least. A fateful encounter with his lifelong companion, regardless of where this strange new life might take him.

"Ooh, Professor Payne won't be happy about this..." Tokugawa laments, following Hanayama.

***

"I'm glad you're finally done with your Jurassic adventure", you tell Baki as both of you stroll through the city.

"I'm a bit salty I didn't win, though." He slouches dramatically and you laugh at his theatrics.

"You're never satisfied with anything. You should be grateful you didn't end up like Retsu, Katsumi or Jack." you place your index in front of his face, pretending to lecture him.

"By the way, did you see the latest news? They want to put Pickle back to sleep. What will you do?"

"Me? What business do I have with it? I had him attached to my hip this whole time, I can finally catch my breath."

"It was your one and only chance to have a boyfriend!" Baki teases you with a wink. "Poor Pickle is probably going mad looking for you now. Don't you want to at least say goodbye?"

"If I go say goodbye I won't leave again, so no thank you."

You slow down as you reach the intersection. This is where you usually part ways, so your conversation has come to an end.

"Well, it was nice hanging out with you. I'll see you around." the boy waves as he continues to the left. You check the time on your phone and stretch with a yawn. You can't wait to have a proper sleep.

You arrive at your apartment and fumble with your pockets to find the keys. When you glance at the lock, you notice a massive shadow looming over the entire wall. You step back instinctively and realize that whatever is creating the shadow currently stands behind you. Two arms sprawl out and twist around your body. You're overwhelmed by a now familiar smell.

Pickle rests his head on yours and closes his eyes. Oh, the absolute terror he went through when he realized you were no longer with him! The helplessness of not being to communicate this disaster to the confused humans in white coats, staring at him without the slightest idea. How did not a single one of them comprehend that his partner vanished? He'd trashed the place over in a blind rage and turned the city upside down in his desperate search. He never felt so vulnerable and naked and weak. Thankfully, he knows your scent so well that the smallest hint of it can get him running.  

But alas, you're here now in his arms and he vows to never lose you again. He doesn't know where he is or what this reality means, but he has one certainty he can cling onto. That you're all his, until time freezes over again.

[torialefay]

PLEASE tell me you saw chan do the smart challenge at the fanmeet with hyune and binnie, i have many thoughts and things to say (specifically about his hips moving game) yet none of them are in the bible

OMG YES SO SO BAD.

and idk why but he is making me have horny soft girl hours.

like just imagine morning sex with that man. his cute little "good morning" voice he sends on bubble before smiling at you and throwing an arm around you to cup your boobs. he'd be so gentle and soft and bring his face in close so he could snuggle up next to your neck, leaning in to give you soft kisses.

you'd both be sleepy as hell, but he'd love it when you'd grind into him with your ass, silently begging him for more. he's already naked so you can feel himself easily getting harder and harder. you'd turn your face so you could let your mouth find his. and that's his favorite thing in the world. letting his tongue run on top of yours. until he slowly brings a hand up so you can suck on one of his fingers before he brings it down and starts to slowly finger you, bucking his hips and grinding into you the whole time.

he'd back his face away so he could watch your reactions as he gently, lovingly rubbed his hands around the way he knew you liked it. and how you wiggled your body around in just the same motion as he was moving himself around you, looking like you were moving together in one motion.

once he made sure you were dripping, he'd slowly creep his hand down to his cock, giving it a few quick pumps before lazily letting it rub you before pushing inside. he'd go so slow and gentle, savoring each little tiny movement of you around him. he'd kiss the side of your jaw as he watched it drop open from the pressure. he'd get harder and harder as you backed yourself up into him further, making sure you felt all of him.

he'd let himself rest inside of you for a moment, observing how beautiful you looked for him with half-closed lids. he'd wonder how he'd gotten so lucky as he admired the moan you let out for him once he slowly drew himself back and then in again.

he'd hook his arm around your chest, pulling himself as closely to you as possible. he wanted to feel your heartbeat as he made love to you. he wanted so badly to be connected to you forever. but for now, he'd have to be satisfied that this was it.

he'd slowly run his tongue along your outer ear as he began fucking into you the tiniest bit faster. you couldn't help but let out a few breathy moans of his name. and he didn't think he'd last much longer.

you'd match your own hips to the roll of his, not letting him draw back out of you for one second. he'd ubderstand immediately that you needed more and drop his hand down to your core to continue his finger's work.

he'd keep going like that, softly but steadily until he knew you were at your breaking point.

"so fucking pretty, baby," he'd whisper into the back of your head, almost so quietly that you couldn't hear him. it would send you over the edge, and you'd feel yourself start to slowly convulse around him. you'd feel like you were burning from the inside out. you'd want to burn into him. throw both of you into this fire together until there was nothing left.

as he'd watched you delicately move around him, he'd get so caught up in the low breaths coming out of you. hearing the sweet whispers of him name spew out left and right, like it was the only word in the world. the only word that could occupy your head at this very moment.

his hips circled you, continuing until he felt warmth in his very core, one of your legs wrapping around him now to draw him as closely as you could.

he let himself become engulfed in the thought of you. how you were so perfect for him. how he wanted nothing more than to be in this moment forever. inside of you and connected to you in the deepest way possible. he'd feel like his heart would bubble over, swelling to twice it's size just from seeing your face contort for him.

"gonna cum in you baby," was all he'd be able to get out before letting himself have a few more quick flicks of his hips into you. he'd spill into you with so much force that it would take him off guard. he'd cherish every moment of his high, continuing to fuck into you and letting out deep, gutteral moans until he was absolutely numb.

once he'd exhausted himself, he'd pull his face back into your neck, planting a couple of soft kisses and reaching a hand up to stroke your hair. he'd let his cock rest inside of you as it went soft. he just wanted to take in the comfort he felt resting inside of you.

he'd run his hand along the lines of your body so that he could find your hand. he'd entangle his lovingly in yours before guiding both of your hands to rest on your hip.

with one final cuddle into you, he'd take his time resting his head with yours, planting a soft kiss to the base of your neck. as you laid, his cock still tucked snuggly inside of you, you'd let out a deep, satisfied sigh and a small smile before letting your lids close all the way. they got heavier and heavier before you'd finally give in and let yourself fall back into your sleep.

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 9 - ( c.s )

part eight

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- angst, swearing, i think that’s it

a/n: i’m back my little goblins let’s get it!!!! part ten of this series will be the final part, and then i plan on writing an ‘epilogue’ type chapter to wrap it all up. i’m hoping to have them up as quickly as possible, but ive been absolutely slammed so im sorry if it takes me a minute. i love u always and i’ve missed being on here so i hope you enjoy <3

(if you asked to be tagged in the last part and weren’t tagged it’s bcs it wouldn’t let me!! i’m so sorry i tried my hardest)

to be let down, you have to expect something from someone. it’s a mistake you’ve made far too frequently in your years on earth, especially in college, but this time around the grief is debilitating.

you spend the rest of your weekend locked inside your room, attempting to sleep away the heartbreak. somehow dreaming almost makes it worse; for a second you’re able to forget about being completely humiliated, until you wake up in reality once more.

it doesn’t help that chris has been absolutely blowing up your phone since the moment you left. every call and text goes unanswered. it’s impossible to read them, so most of the time you don’t.

hell, you can’t even open your curtains because you’re too scared that he’ll be looking back at you when you do. so you block out the sunlight, ensuring that your room matches your dreary feelings.

you figure he’ll give up on trying to talk to you eventually. you’re not different. he’s not different. and once chris regains that pride of his, he’ll go right back to fucking some other girl he won’t care about half as much.

thoughts like those make you cry even harder, as much as you hate it. but you know the disinterest will wash over him sooner or later, and you resent that inevitable day.

cassidy and ramona check on you pretty much every other hour. it makes you feel even worse that they’re so concerned, but neither of them have ever seen you like this. at least not since freshman year, when you dated an upperclassman for a couple months just for him to dump you over text.

even that heartache was relatively short-lived. but this pain follows you into the week, trailing behind you like a shadow you can’t get rid of. it sits beside you in class, curls up next to you in bed, weighs your shoulders down whenever you walk.

it feels like you’re struggling to stay afloat, to even act like a real human anymore. chris consumes your brain, and so do the ‘what if’s’ of your situation. it makes the week drag on, even though you try to spend most of it asleep.

to make matters worse, his multiple notifications continue with a routine consistency, almost like clockwork. you figured he’d already be over it, but he clearly doesn’t want to make himself easy to forget.

you have to admit that you’re glad his persistence lasted at least this long, even if it’s for selfish reasons. you’re disgusted that the attention satisfies you, but it’s not an unwelcome change considering all you’ve been feeling lately is queasy.

still, you don’t read them, or pick up when he calls. you can’t hear his voice, because you know it’ll absolutely break you.

and then finally, on friday, you see him in the flesh. you’re walking home from your bus stop after the only lecture you managed to get to that day, and there he is, getting out of his car.

your throat seizes up; there’s no way to avoid this. it’s easy to ice someone out over text, but it’s a hell of a lot harder when he’s your neighbor.

before you can snap your head away he’s turning to look in your direction, eyes equally as wide as yours once the recognition washes over him. he looks like shit, and yet he’s still so goddamn beautiful it makes you physically sick.

for a brief moment, everything stops. you just stare at each other.

chris takes in you in, the way you look noticeably drained. he feels that familiar nauseous pang in his stomach flare up, knowing that he stole the spark from your eyes.

the worst part is that you’ll never look at him with that fire again. there’s nothing he can do to bring it back now, no way to reverse the past.

then—before he can decide what to do in the present—you break the spell, cutting through your other neighbor’s lawn to get to your front porch. everything in him wants to run after you, so much so that he has to physically restrain himself.

you hear him calling after you, and something about him shouting your name stirs the tears awake once more. but you make it through the door before they fall, because you can’t show any more vulnerability than you already have.

getting inside doesn’t mean that you make it up the stairs, though. the physical and emotional exhaustion catches up to you, and you collapse around halfway through your blurry climb to your room.

your elbows dig into your kneecaps, hands holding your head while you sob. it seems impossible to catch your breath, or calm down in the slightest, and your cries only grow louder.

normally you’d be careful about the noise, but there’s no one to hide from right now. nobody is home. it’s just you and your thoughts, which, as always, are full of him.

you may be able to push him out of your life, but you have a feeling he’ll be lingering in the corners of your mind forever.

the post-game locker room mood is completely miserable tonight. after that last minute loss and the thirty minute bitch-session they just endured from their coach, it honestly should be.

chris barely even has his skates off before his teammates are all over him, which he expected but still dreaded.

his head’s not in it, and everybody knows.

“what the fuck is wrong with you, man? it’s like you’re not even awake out there.” one of the team’s leading defensemen, luke, yanks him up by his jersey roughly.

for a second he pauses, setting his jaw and puffing his chest out slightly. the accusation, though it’s not completely untrue, pisses him off.

so much so that chris retaliates by shoving him back to his rightful place a foot away. “get the hell off of me, man.”

luke looks like he’s ready to jump into action again, but connor steps in between before anything else can happen. he’s also very visibly angry, a side that doesn’t come out often.

and just because he stopped a physical fight from breaking out doesn’t mean he’s going to stay silent. “he’s right. you’re playing like shit, and we‘re way too far into the season to be blowing it now, especially with selection show right around the corner.”

chris can feel his blood is boiling at this point, knowing that even his roommate is going to support this kind of disrespect towards his own captain. the rest of the team is watching silently, but he can’t find it anywhere in himself to care.

the words have already bubbled up, and he won’t hold them back anymore.

“oh come on, it’s not like anyone else was stepping up! dylan turned the puck over every other play, ben was offside during that odd man rush, and don’t even get me started on you and the high sticking penalty that just lost us that fucking game.” he shoves his pointer finger against connor’s chest for emphasis, trying to make sure his criticism stings as much as possible.

but his friend is quick to swat his hand away, shaking his head once sharply.

“no, you don’t get to turn it on everyone else. you lost it for us during that sorry excuse of a penalty kill. you let that little UMass shit go right by you, which is why he had a wide open shot to score the game winner. you’ve been making dumb mistakes like that for two weeks now, and we all know why.”

that implication is enough to send chris over the edge, because nobody has the right to mention what happened between you and him. knowing about the situation doesn’t mean they should get to speak on it.

he can feel his fingernails digging into his palms, both hands balled into tight fists at his side. the anger coursing through his body makes him shake ever so slightly, almost like he’s humming.

“keep going and i’ll bust your fucking face in.” chris says, voice eerily calm despite the fact that his body is screaming.

but connor doesn’t back down; he stands tall with an unwavering gaze that’s more serious than ever before. “you gotta grow a pair and start being our captain again. you fucked up, and losing someone you’re actually into because of that sucks. most of us have been there. but trying to throw everyone under the bus is bullshit when you’re the one that needs to get it together.”

nothing about his words are intentionally meant to hurt, and chris knows that, but for some reason they do. probably because he doesn’t want to hear the truth, or start coming to terms with the fact that he actually did lose you.

he really doesn’t ever want to accept it.

but his ego won’t let him say that. instead, chris shifts his gaze to observe the rest of the room, at all of his teammates, before focusing on connor once again.

“if you don’t think that i’m your captain anymore then find a new one.” he spits.

the room somehow gets even more quiet; everyone is stunned by the out-of-character reaction. for the most part, chris really is a good leader. they all voted for him to represent the team when it came time, and the group dynamic has been great since then.

but he doesn’t feel like that guy now. he’s not sure who he is anymore. so he throws the rest of his equipment into his bag and yanks it over his shoulder.

“really, chris?” it’s ben this time, who’s clearly dumbfounded by the theatrics.

he doesn’t respond, and he tries not to hesitate too much as he makes his way out of the locker room. everyone lets him pass, which makes it even harder to leave.

it feels so wrong, but his feet keep pushing him forward regardless.

when chris finally makes it home twenty minutes later, the frustration has only festered. he doesn’t like anything he’s doing, and yet it’s spiraling out of his control. by the time he gets to his room, tears of aggravation have made their way down his face.

he wipes them away harshly as he stares out his window at your room, which is still closed off by your curtains. it’s like his heart seizes up just from being this close to you, knowing that you’re in there yet he can’t reach you.

and maybe that’s the problem. chris loves hockey, but at the end of the day he clearly loves you more. and with things the way that they are, his heart is fully wrapped up in you, not the game.

it’s terrifying, and it’s painful. he never thought that there’d be anyone to test his bachelor lifestyle until you came around, and he can’t just go back to normal because he doesn’t know how.

he’s been permanently changed, and it feels like a huge part of his new life is suddenly missing.

you saw the deepest parts of him, parts that he didn’t even know existed, and he saw the same side of you. you challenged him in ways he’d never experienced, and he loved that he always felt like he was evolving when you were together.

now he just feels stagnant, unsure of himself.

the only thing he’s sure of is that he needs you, whether that makes him inconsiderate or not. he can’t keep sleepwalking through life, but he’s not sure what else there is to do.

simply put, he misses you like hell. so he lays back in bed and closes his eyes, trying to remember what it felt like to have you right beside him.

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi @snowysosturn @secretfangirly @scarlettbitches @satvisfavetoodles

[michuga]

santa baby *•̩̩͙ ✩ •̩̩͙*˚

summary: in which you wait all night long for santa, as you have been every year, for as long as you can remember. expecting a swollen belly and a full white beard, you're surprised to see a tall, dark, and handsome stranger staring back at you. or santa gets caught red-handed and has to play it off.

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genre: idek. holiday skit? palette cleanser 4 you!

warnings: swearing included, lowercase intended

very silly. i laughed for a good minute when the idea came to me, hope you enjoy!

wc: 1.5k

it's finally the holidays, your favorite time of the year. at 21, your resolve to catch santa has stayed stronger than ever. it didn't matter how many people told you santa wasn't real, you were an ambitious girl. surely one of these years, you were bound to catch him, right? i mean, who else could be responsible for the gifts under your tree, every single year?

"alright everyone, gather round! it's time to pick your secret santa buddy!" you hear your coworker yell out, along with squeals of excitement.

for the first time, this year, your company decided to hold a secret santa event, as a means of reviving the workplace environment.

yawning, you make your way to where everyone from your department was gathered. how do they have so much energy? it's barely eight in the crack ass of the morning.

"like every secret santa, each one of you will pick out a paper randomly from this bowl right here. the name you get is the person you'll be buying a gift for. any questions?" your boss says, enthusiastically.

subtle chatter fills the room. "all right then. if there are no questions, go ahead and pick your draw"

waiting your turn, you take a sip of your coffee.

"are you excited?" your friend taehyung beams, joining you.

"not really, just looking forward to my bed today."

"why? you still waiting on santa to pop down your chimney?" he says with an elbow nudge, wiggling his eyebrows.

"he's REAL taehyung. i'm not doing this with you again." with a roll of your eyes, you walk closer to the bowl filled with names.

"it's probably one of your family members, be serious for five minutes. if it's not, you definitely need your locks changed. you don't find that creepy at all? have you asked them?"

"nope. because i know it's not them. and my locks are perfectly fine. he doesn't use doors, you idiot, it's the chimney."

tsking, taehyung follows close behind.

waiting for the cookies to cool down, you plopped down on your couch. your eyelids heavy, you decide to take a quick half hour nap.

THUNK

waking up from your slumber, you're startled by the loud noise. confused, you slowly rub your eyes and scan your surroundings.

well this definitely isn't what you were expecting.

wide eyed, you stare at the strange man across the room, standing right in front of your fireplace.

are you dreaming? you're not sure. you always thought santa would be old fat and ugly, the man standing in front of you is anything but. carrying a big red sack on his back, the fabric of his sleeves lays taught against his biceps. woah, santa's jacked. you can also see a slither of a tattooed sleeve under his little getup, and piercings on his face. what the hell?

after it seems like an eon of staring at eachother in silence, you finally muster the courage to speak up.

"santa?" you ask, delirious from sleep and yet hopeful as ever.

"i'm your... secret santa!" the man says reluctantly.

"oh.. yeah you don't really look like santa." dejected, you say with a sigh.

offended, the stranger scoffs, and gestures at his read coat and matching red pants. "um.. hello?"

"nah. santa's all fat and old n' shit. you could pass as his grandson, though," you think aloud, tilting your head to the side.

"i'll take that as a compliment.. i guess?"

"wait.. i've never seen you at work before, though?"

after another awkward silence, "i'm new. i was only recently hired a few weeks ago."

"oh.. okay!" you answer, delirious on sleep and perfectly satisfied with his reekingly suspicious answers.

"well since i baked cookies for santa and you're the next best thing, why don't you have some?" getting up, you casually walk towards your fridge, grabbing the half empty carton of milk, along with two cups from your cupboard.

you hear quiet footsteps behind you, taking a seat on your kitchen island.

"so.. santa? you really believe in santa?" the stranger says, taking the cup of milk you offered him.

"i swear to god if i get made fun of one more time, i'm turning into the grinch." you deadpan, serious expression adorning your face. flat lipped, you cross your arms and stare at him.

suppressing a giggle, the stranger goes on, "no, no! don't get me wrong, i think it's cute."

you squint your eyes. "but you don't believe me."

"now you're just putting words in my mouth. when did i ever say that?" amused, he takes another bite of the freshly baked cookie.

"this is damn good stuff, you know? you should definitely sell these." your secret santa remarks, mouth full of cookie, and a visible scorn on his face.

"only the best for santa." you say, plopping down on the stool across from him. face in your palm, you watch the perfect stranger eat cookies, made with all your love, that were never meant for him.

"i really thought i'd catch him this year, damn it."

"you just wait here every year, waiting to catch him?"

"pretty much."

"well if you had caught him, that would mean he's lousy as his job, wouldn't it?"

"as lousy as you were?" you playfully say, "surely he has better work ethic than you do."

snickering, the stranger nods in agreement.

"i'll let you in on a little secret." your santa says, gesturing for you to come closer.

you lean in, lending him your ear.

"i know santa personally. i could put in a good word for you, if you want."

jerking back, you're quick to remark, "stop making fun of me, i already told you! i'm serious about this!"

"i am too! i'm being for real."

"sure. well since you do know him, let him know i've been an awful good girl this year, and i demand a gift worthy of that," you say, going along with his bit.

"hmm.. i'm pretty sure he's the one who gets to decide that, but alright, i'll let him know. anything else?"

"and that i've written up a wishlist." you pick up the piece of paper you left under the plate of cookies. "here you go. make sure he gets this."

taking the piece of paper from you, the stranger quietly reads what's written.

"alright. shouldn't be too hard to accomplish," he says, matter-of-factedly.

this dude's a wacko.

yawning, the sleepiness from earlier latching onto you again.

"well, i'll be going to bed now. would you like me to show you out?"

"i'll manage. thanks for the cookies!" grabbing his gift sack from off the ground, he gets up and heads towards the chimney.

going up the stairs with your back turned to him, you wave him off.

mere seconds after plopping down onto your bed, you fall back asleep, wondering off to dreamland for sure this time.

you hear the sound of birds chirping, feel the sun shining on your face.

you peacefully turn in your sleep.

one, two minutes pass.

with a furrow of your eyebrows, you come to.

wait.

wait.

what the fuck?

startled, you spring out of bed.

as the events of last night dawn on you, your eyes gradually widen in shock.

????????????

running down your stairs, you scramble into your kitchen

to find

the plate of cookies

empty.

you weren't dreaming.

oh god. oh god. now you've finally done it. a stranger merrily breaks into your house and you made conversation with him?

from the corner of your eyes, you spot something shimmering under your christmas tree.

gifts?

"jesus, what happened to you?" taehyung asks with a sandwich in his mouth. "did the grinch visit you?"

you hadn't bothered to look at the mirror this morning, rushing to get dressed and out the door. you need real human interaction to feel sane. you were also hoping to find an answer to whatever the fuck happened last night.

"i think a stranger broke into my house last night. i think i also offered him cookies."

choking on said sandwich, taehyung coughs a few times before finally clearing his throat.

"pardon?"

"he said he was my secret santa."

"and you just.. accepted the fact?"

"well.. yeah? i was half asleep and waiting for santa," you say with a pout.

"the fuck? that's breaking and entering?? you should file a police report! oh god, he works here, doesn't he? do you remember what he looks like??"

recalling the events of last night, you find yourself lost in thought. "yeah.. quite an odd fellow."

scratching your head, you continue, "damn, he never even told me his name."

"dude, i knew you were off your rocker, but this has got to be a new low."

"um.. excuse me?" a voice calls out from behind you.

you turn around to see mingyu, one of your coworkers, holding a neatly wrapped gift box.

"i got your name.. i didn't really know what you'd like so i got you a bunch of different things.. i really hope you like them."

silence.

"or if you don't, i can always return them and get something else! really, it's no trouble!"

silence.

...

taehyung nudges you hard.

"mingyu, you're my secret santa?"

"..yes?"

"then who the fuck was that at my house last night?"

[blingblong55]

Wicked Release-Simon "Ghost" Riley & John Price NSFW

Kinktober day 7

Based on a request: hey girl, i need..and i mean it, i need a quick three some with price and ghost. don't give me the details of shit, short and sweet, just let them both fuck me and cum in me, thats it. love you ---- F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, smut, threesome, unprotected!sex, unestablished!realtionship, NSFW link ----

A/N: I don't know how to explain sex positions at times so…please enjoy this video because it's what I'm getting at here: https://x.com/sweetsuccubus13/status/1742734253169750403?s=46

What started as playful teasing on a drunken night between your captain, the lieutenant of your team and you now have you pinned against Simon's chest, feeling every inch of his cock stretching you from beneath, while you're seated firmly on his lap. John, hovering behind, slowly works his way inside too, the stretch almost unbearable but overwhelmingly satisfying.

John’s voice has been nothing but gentle praise the whole time, cooing sweetly in your ear, his words wrapping you in warmth, though even he sounds breathless now, teetering on the edge of control. Every shallow thrust sends jolts through all three of you, and Simon’s inability to remain still only intensifies the sensations.

“Bloody hell, love…you’re doing so good for us, such a perfect little thing,” John murmurs, his thrusts slow but deliberate, teeth clenched as he forces himself to maintain control. Simon, though, is barely holding on, his breath ragged in your ear.

“Please, love…just let me move…want to fill this sweet hole with our cum…please…” Simon whispers, pressing soft kisses against the side of your neck. His hips press forward ever so slightly, begging for permission to thrust properly, but he waits, trembling, until you give the okay.

You nod frantically, eyes half-closed, completely lost in the pleasure. Words escape you, only soft moans and gasps leaving your lips.

The sight of you, so thoroughly wrecked between them, sends Simon’s heart racing. His grip tightens on your hips just as John sets the pace, both of them working together in a perfect rhythm. John's cock grinds against the base of Simon’s, pulling back just enough for Simon to slam forward again. Their bodies move as one, creating a symphony of flesh against flesh, filling the room with the sounds of labored breathing and the wet slap of their cocks.

Their lips find your neck and shoulders, peppering your skin with gentle kisses and murmured praise, as beads of sweat drip from their brows. The heat of the room matches the intensity of the moment, your body trembling between them.

Simon’s grip tightens, his breaths coming quicker. He’s getting close, and you can feel it. His rhythm stutters, his thrusts becoming sharp and urgent. “I’m close…fuck, love,” he groans, voice hoarse and thick with need.

John’s hand grips your waist tighter, matching Simon’s pace as they both edge closer to release. “Gonna cum, love…” John’s voice is heavy with lust, his hips snapping forward with increasing intensity.

You can barely respond, your body trembling as they fill you, their cocks pulsing as they spill inside. The warmth of their release spreads through you, their thick cum filling every inch of your body. Even as their orgasms peak, they continue to move, dragging out every last drop until the three of you collapse in a heap of tangled limbs and heavy breaths.

With renewed energy, they begin to thrust harder, their strokes erratic, desperate. “Fuck…you’re so tight, love,” John groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he pushes deeper. “We’re gonna fill you up, make you overflow with our cum.”

Simon grunts in agreement, his teeth grazing your shoulder as he drives his hips upward. “Bloody hell, love…you’re squeezing us so perfectly. Gonna breed this sweet little body, fill you to the brim.”

Their words send you spiralling, pushing back to meet their movements. You can feel both of them pulsing inside you, their cocks growing harder as they chase their climax.

With one final thrust, John buries himself deep and releases, his cock twitching as thick, hot ropes of cum flood your insides. The sensation triggers Simon’s release, and with a guttural groan, he joins John, filling you to the brim.

As the last of their strength fades, the three of you collapse into a heap of sweaty, panting bodies. Their softening cocks slip from you, and the combined warmth of their release begins to seep out. Simon and John press tender kisses to your skin, whispering soft words of love and praise.

“You were perfect for us, love,” Simon murmurs, voice raspy with exhaustion. “Like you were made for this.”

John nods in agreement, his lips brushing your neck. “Our perfect love,” he whispers. "We love you so much."

Tags: @liyanahelena @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @idklols @katybaby00 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @lovelyvqer @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @iruzias @sleepyycatt @noodlezz-bedo @trinthealternate @azkza @VampyTheGoth

[lilyswritings]

late.

synopsis: your boyfriend’s superhero antics give you a fright, and it’s up to him to reassure you of his well-being when he returns home from the fight. 

author’s note: i’ll admit, this has been sitting in my drafts for the longest time... likely since no way home came out! but i’ve been trying to get back into the swing of writing, and i figured it was a good idea to start with finishing up some works in progress before diving into anything new. so here’s some peter angst and fluff, just like the good ol’ days. enjoy!! 

wordcount: 1,613 

18. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” 25. “What the hell were you thinking?!” 48. “Why are you crying?”

Peter Parker x Reader

      The window to the bedroom slides open, a figure in blue and red quietly stepping through the frame and carefully sliding the window shut behind him, all the while listening intently for any signs of life in the apartment beyond. Satisfied that he hasn’t woken his aunt, Peter turns around only to be startled by a figure sat in the darkness of the room, criss-cross on his bed. 

      “Shit.” He curses, huffing out a laugh when he realizes it’s only you. “It’s late,” Peter starts, tugging his mask off and tossing it onto his desk as he turns towards his closet to grab a t-shirt and sweatpants. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” 

      He doesn’t notice how silent you are until you don’t respond, when he turns around mid-unzipping his outfit to find you staring at him — like you’ve seen a ghost. Later, he’ll blame the shadows in the darkened room as why he didn’t immediately notice the shine of dried tears on your cheeks, or the way you’d bitten your nails down to the skin like you always did when you were panicking. 

      For now, though, he’s too focused on getting out of his suit and into comfortable clothes, the events of the evening still making his brain run haywire as he runs everything that he did that went wrong through his mind, planning for next time. 

      “Look, I’m sorry for returning so late,” He begins, tugging the suit off. “I lost track of time, I meant to text you but I think my phone got smashed in the fight and I’m probably going to have to at least replace the screen if not the whole thing.” He rambles, until finally, he’s changed entirely into casual clothes, and he lets out a sigh. When he turns around, finally, your expression has morphed from one of shock into anger, and he frowns at the sudden shift in emotion. 

      “What?” He asks, immediately wracking his brain for what he could have done to piss you off in the last few minutes. In response, you push yourself up and off the bed, coming to stand face-to-face with him as you take in his injuries, brow furrowed and arms crossed.

      “What was that?” You ask, gesturing vaguely to the window in reference to his escapades of the night.

      “Oh, it was just that Rhino guy again, turns out he escaped from prison and was trying the same ol’ shtick of—”

      “Rhino?” You cut him off, hands moving to your hips, and Peter winces, realizing his error. 

      “Yeah, uh, I know I said I wouldn’t take him on again by myself, but he was actively driving away with some radioactive materials and the police weren’t even close to him at that point so if I hadn’t stepped in chances are he would have gotten away and—”

      “So you went alone? What the hell were you thinking?” You demand, not letting him finish, watching his eyebrows tug together as he becomes defensive. 

      “Hey, come on, I can handle myself. I’m Spider-Man.” Peter retorts with a cocky smile, although still evidently confused, and you shove at his chest. “What the hell—” He begins to argue, smile dropping.

      “It’s not funny. You could have been killed!” You hiss, barely containing an angry shouting match as you try to keep your voice down to not wake Aunt May up. 

      “Are you— Why are you crying?” Peter asks, finally, and you freeze, only now noticing the feeling of tears running down your cheeks. He steps forwards delicately, hands up, and you step back, watching his expression morph into one of hurt.

      “What’s going on with you?” He asks, obviously confused, and you fling a hand out towards your open laptop as your other hand comes up to hastily scrub at your cheeks, as if to erase the tears altogether. 

     Peter, still looking at you with concern in his eyes, hesitantly sits down on the bed and turns the laptop on. The blue glow of the screen lights up his face as he reads the open article, mouth opening slightly as he pieces together your reaction. 

      The headline ‘Spider-Man: Gone For Good?’ stares back at him, along with an attached video of himself in his costume being smashed into the side of a building and remaining there, unmoving, until the video cuts out. ‘Spider-Man severely injured... Worried crowd of onlookers... Has the city’s hero been defeated?... No sign of hero since the incident...’ Peter’s eyes skim the article, before he turns to face you with a softened expression, noticing that you haven’t stopped crying, though you’re frustratedly scrubbing at your face in hopes of wiping away the evidence.

      He stands up from the bed and approaches you, and this time, you let him place his hands on your shoulders as you wipe at your face. “I’m so sorry,” He starts, voice quiet, moving to tilt your chin up with his hand. “That must have been really scary for you.”

      You swallow thickly, taking in a shaky breath as you lock eyes with him. “It said you were dead.” You whisper, voice breaking slightly on the last word. “The video—” You stop yourself, tears beginning to well up anew in your eyes, and Peter winces.

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t know there was a news station, I was just— I needed to rest for a minute, that was it. I had no idea...” He curses himself internally — he should have been on the lookout for cameras, what if he’d taken his mask off? He never wanted you to see him in a fight, let alone see him get hurt that badly. 

      You nod, hand coming up to rest on his cheek, eyes skimming over the bruise on his cheekbone that seems to be disappearing with each passing second. Yay healing powers, you think sarcastically. “Okay. I’m sorry for snapping at you.” You take in another breath, this time less shaky. “I was just so scared.” You admit, and there you go again, fresh tears falling as you curse and look down at the floor.

      Peter takes that as his cue to envelop you in a hug, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and tugging you closer, arms locked around you protectively. “I’m here. I’m okay.” He utters the affirmations into your neck, pressing a feather-light kiss there as if to prove it. 

      “It’ll take more than that to get rid of me.” He huffs into your hair. Though his words are obviously meant to lighten the mood, the cocky attitude reminds you one again of your initial frustration, and you impulsively pull away and launch your first forward to punch Peter in the shoulder. 

      Of course it only ends up startling him, and the impact feels like you just punched a wall — curse you, superhero muscles — and you pull your hand back with a muttered curse. His dark eyebrows tug together as he holds a hand over the spot you hit. 

      “What was that?” He asks, eyes darting from your fist to your face, tone concerned although you detect a hint of amusement in his soft brown eyes at the instant repercussions for your outburst. 

      “It’s not funny. You fucking scared me.” You grumble, cradling your now-throbbing fist against your chest, and he huffs out a short laugh. “Don’t laugh at me.” You scold, though your anger is dissolving by the second just due to his reassuring presence. 

     “I already said I’m sorry—” You frown at his casual attitude. “—don’t punch me again—” He interjects hurriedly. “—but I am sorry. Really sorry. I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.” 

    “You’d better.” You frown, still trying to eradicate the image of his prone form lying among the rubble, no sign of movement or life. “Or at least fucking text me, or, or call me, or— send a Spider-signal or something! Next time your phone breaks, I want you to use a payphone.” You decide, nodding, and he laughs under his breath. 

      “Okay,” He concedes, stepping closer to you and kissing you on the forehead. “I’ll build a little pocket into the suit to hold some quarters.”

      You roll your eyes at the sass, but your smile betrays you as you lean into his touch, his arms coming up to encircle you. “Don’t be a smartass.” You mutter into his shoulder, and he laughs. 

      “Can we go to bed now?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your temple, and you nod. “I’m wiped, and I think you might be too.” You nod again, sighing and going to pull away from him, but he holds you tighter and your brow furrows in confusion. 

       “I thought you wanted to go to bed—” Your words are cut off by a squeal of surprise and he holds you fast to his chest and shoots a web at the wall above his bed, tugging the both of you onto the bed in one swooping motion. 

      You land sideways, eyes wide, and erupt into a stifled laugh at his antics. “You’re insane, it would have taken us all of ten seconds to walk over and get in bed!” You scold, and he finally lets you go and shrugs, pulling the blanket up and over the both of you.

      “And this way, it took us one second.” He smirks, and you smack him on the chest. 

      “Okay, Spider-Man.” You retort, voice mocking, but he smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead, wrapping his arms around you once more. The room goes quiet, your breaths slowing and deepening as you lie in Peter’s arms, and just as you are about to fall into a deep sleep, you smile as you hear him utter three lovely little words.

      “I love you.”

[rowretro]

Yandere!demon! heeseung x human! Reader( Please?)

TOOTHPASTE MOJITO

✧warnings: Yandere/toxic themes, kidnapping, marriage, blood, violence, explicit stuff mentioned, somewhat sexual(?), alcohol consumption

❁synopsis: Heeseung, a demon of many demons that roams earth, bored. His eyes then land on y/n. The girl who was disgusted by her raspberry mojito, and proceeded to order more mojitos. That's when Y/n saw hell....

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

Heeseung smirked, his hands stained with blood, as he stared at the limp body before him. Another day another slay, demon edition. He literally slays them. Could you blame him? I mean what did the drunkard expect? trying to steal his wallet. He didn't stand a chance. Heeseung groaned as he went to his mansion, maids slipping off his coat and placing his shoes aside, as he walked in. The man's rich, anything he wants he gets, money, shoes, cars anything.

But he was missing one thing... a wife. Sure he'd sleep with some girls now and then when he's bored, but none of that satisfies his loving for love. True love, the kind of love one'd find in any movie, a shoulder to lie on, a person to turn to and feel comfortable. The man checked himself out in the mirror, a branded leather jacket worn over his black button down shirt, and trousers to match it. He slipped on a Rolex of the many he owned, followed by some jewellery.

The man walked into the party, fitting in as Jay threw an arm over him "Thought you'd never come, I assume you're here for the girls?" Jay asked as Heeseung snickerred "not this time- I got some time off of work so I decided to drop in... where's the bar?" He asked as Jay pointed it out. The man sat down at the stool, beside him, he could see the back of a girl, her dark hair somewhat covering her bare back, she was dressed is a shimmering, short black dress.

So far she seemed like a hottie to him. "Ack- disgusting... It tastes like grass-" she complained turning around to the bartender. Heeseung got a the full view of her face. Fuck was she beautiful. Her eye makeup really did suit her, purple glitter reflecting blue, lips so plump and kissable, her nose slightly big, but really added a stunning touch to her pretty face. "Can I get a mojito with Ice... make it really minty" she said as Heeseung frowned at her.

As the bartender walked off to prepare her drink, Heeseung turned to face her "Minty mojito?... that'd taste like toothpaste in alcohol- its already minty as is why ad more?" He questioned as she giggled "Toothpaste mojito.... not a mint lover huh?" she asked then she froze "Wow... Jay knows so many attractive men but damn." she added quite boldly. "He seems to know very pretty girls... none as pretty as you though, can't believe he gatekept you from me... Heeseung." He introduced himself. "Y/n.... " she said with a smile

If only she knew there and then that he's a goddamn demon. Literally. She thought she was just drunk, one second she was at the party, the next in a luxorious bedroom with a fine man. That morning she realized, the man did the impossible, he literally teleported her. She saw him really murder a man. She looked under the blanket. No sign of pain, hickeys or anything, she smelled nice, dressed in a man's jumper, presumably Heeseungs.

Oh how stupid she felt. Thinking it'd be easy to sneak out of a demon's home without being caught. Acting cool, walking out as the guards assumed she was just some slut he slept with. "Where do you think you're going sweetheart?" he asked, her back against the wall, as his body trapped her. "uh... home? I need to feed my bunny" she excused as he just laughed.

"Oh baby how drunk were you?... you ARE home... and I fed your bunny see? *he said with a smirk pointing at the little white rabbit that rested comfortably in a more spacious cage". It was too much to process. did she move in with him? did something happen? are they in a relationship? "yes, I guess, and Yes.." he answerred without missing a beat, red eyes staring into hers. "Did I say that out loud?..." she asked as he smirked.

"As you can see darling, I'm a demon, I know everything you think about. When I first laid my eyes on you... thought I'd just let you stay in my bed one night.... then you talked to me and fuck." He groaned, holding her heart at his chest "feel that?! Im in fucking love with you baby, I fucking wanted you... no I fucking needed you. so here you are." He said with a smirk "You're crazy. Im not into you Heeseung. You can't just kidnap me, and my bunny and say im you're in love with me. Im leaving." She claimed confidentally

"That's where you're wrong. You're mine, you're not going anywhere and you won't need to, everything you need is in this mansion. If I want something sweetie.. I get it. How about you think twice before your decision, sure you wouldn't want to anger a demon... I KNOW you're smarter than that." He simply said. He's right. Only an idiot would do such a thing, she really had no choice... She was in hell and there's no going back....

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(so sorry to all my readers, Ill try work on the series's too, yes my blog is wet now- its no longer a dry desert)

[erotica-ficx]

Obessession {JK HC!}

Pairing : Soft Yan! Teacher! Jungkook x Fem! Student! Reader.

Genre : Yandere au, Dark Romance, Age Gap au.

Summary : He can't help but want you.

TW! : Stalking, illegal/inappropriate thoughts, drug usage, sadistic behaviour, mentions of masturbation, mentions of murders and blood, mentions of recording inappropriate scenes, mentions of jealousy and being possessive + obsessive, yandere themes, party in club, mentions of drugging, Innocent! OC x Horny! MC.

Jungkook thinks he could watch you for hours.

Cute little ponytail adorning the back of your head, tied with a cute bow rubber band, small hair strands falling over your face.

The short skirts and shorts you wear adding to your gullible nature.

It all just makes you look like an eye candy.

So cute.

So pretty.

So adorable.

And so fuckable.

Jungkook can't help himself but ogle at you all the time.

Watching your each and every movement almost 24/7 and doing everything in his control to keep you close to him.

It would be a sight to drool over as you bend down with your usual short skirt riding up your thighs - almost showcasing your panties to him - making his jaw twitch.

It would just make his dick throb under it's confines as he would hurriedly fish out his mobile from his pocket to record the obscene view before him.

And of course, that was the only way he could get off well.

The thoughts of you, your pretty little body and adorable face drive him insane.

Damn.

Only he knows how hard it is for him to control himself at times.

There wasn't a single day in his life when he didn't jerk off to the thoughts of you since the day he laid his eyes on you.

During lectures, he would make sure to keep sneaking glances at you, only to find you focusing on his speech.

Which for sure would make his heart flutter.

Such a obedient little pup.

At times, he would catch someone or the other trying to hit on you.

Which would of course make his blood boil to the next level.

And let me tell you, Jungkook isn't the type to let people get away that easily.

Sometimes, you would find it weird when the guys who got a little close to you disappear in thin air.

All thanks to your yandere little teacher.

He would make sure to choke the life out of whoever tried to get to you with bare hands.

He would beat the hell out of the person until they were covered in a pool of blood.

It would satisfy his inner sadist as their screams for mercy reach his ears.

It was a pleasant sight to see those people beg for their lives as they would lie under his mercy.

Well, they deserved it.

Who the heck gave them the permission to get closer to his property?

You are all his.

His and only his.

No one can fucking dare to touch a single strand of hair on your body.

And if they do-...

Of course the consequences won't be easy.

Jungkook would dig graves after graves for you.

He doesn't even care if he goes behind the bars as long as he gets to see you.

Just a sight of you was enough to make his breath hitch, his heart skip a beat.

But now.....

It wasn't enough.

He wanted to fuck you.

It wasn't enough to just look at you and admire you.

He wanted more.

He wanted more than just looking.

He wanted to touch you.

Hold you in his arms.

Feel you.

Kiss your soft lips.

Mark you.

Make you his.

He wanted to fuck you.

He wanted to feel your skin burn against his as he would do his magic on you.

He wanted to hear you scream his name, to beg him for more.

He wanted you to be his forever.

And so he did.

It was the day when the seniors were going to celebrate their grand win in the basketball match in a club.

They invited more than half of the school.

Including teachers.

So of course, Jungkook being the vip teacher, was invited too.

Intelligent, good looking, charismatic, mesmerizing.

The black shirt he wore with a pair of matching trousers and coat suited his robust built.

The shirt hugged his upper body perfectly, showcasing the outline of his six packs and hard muscles.

Eyes turned on him as soon as he entered the club, the dim lights reflecting on him, making his features look sharper than ever.

The crowd buzzes with shouts of his professional title aka Mr. Jeon, and whistles from the seniors and juniors.

But he didn't care about them.

His eyes searched for you.

Not minding the other teachers that approached him to say their greetings, he looked through the crowd.

And finally, he found you.

Sitting near the bar stand on a stool in the corner, you were chitchatting with your bestie.

But what made his breath hitch and crotch twitch was your outfit.

The black bodycon dress that your bestie forced you to wear for tonight hugged your body perfectly, pronouncing your curves so perfectly.

Your upper cleavage was on show, which you tried to hide with your hand, along with the outline of your curved ass.

Your once tied up hair were let down freely, falling over your shoulders and face as you would again and again tuck them behind your ear.

The light and natural makeup plus the dark red lipstick pronounced your beauty more.

It was getting hard for him to breath.

Jungkook pushed through the crowd, politely greeting the girls back who were coming in his way to get a chance with him.

It disgusted him.

Did these girls have no shame?

Hitting on random men at clubs just to get laid.

The fact that they were still high scholars made him more disgusted.

As he saw your bestie leaving you alone to go to her boyfriend, he quickly came and occupied her space.

Your head shot in his direction as his deep voice reached your ears a little louder than the music playing in the background as he was near you.

"You seem to be having fun, miss Y/N."

"A-Ah, M-Mr. J-eon..!"

Fuck.

Your voice.

It was such a turn on.

So sweet and melodic.

He couldn't wait to make you scream his name under him tonight.

You quickly bowed your head after greeting him, your body tensing up nervously just by his presence.

Jungkook chuckled as he shook his head, his hand dropping on your bare shoulder.

He couldn't help but register how soft and smooth your skin is.

His hand squeezing your shoulder a little as a reaction.

"It's okay, miss Y/N. We're out of school right now."

His voice was deep and raspy, carrying a hint of something unknown to you.

You look away, your cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

"So, wanna have some drinks?"

"J-Just one is o-okay, Mr. J-Jeon."

"Mhm. You don't really seem much of a drinker, so I think that's fine."

You nod your head and Jungkook orders two drinks.

While he kept you occupied with his talks till the time the drinks arrived, he didn't let you notice as he dropped a small pill in your drink.

Which would obviously make things work out the way he wants them tonight.

Requests are open!

Follow @erotica-ficx on Tumblr or @/bangtanerotica on Instagram for more! Make sure to check out @erotica-ficx 's writings on Wattpad! (Wattpad ID - @/BangtanErotica)♡

NOTE : Requests will be taken for both BTS and Anime, so make sure to drop your fantasies! ;)

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Errors, “Errors,” and Sci Fi

@strawberry-crocodile

tvtropes calls stuff like the wolf example "science matches on" which I think is a pretty fair shake

This.  This is what’s got me thinking so much about errors.  There’s a certain danger, here.  A certain way that this particular effect — delicious dramatic irony — tempts the mind when reading old stories, even true ones.

What do you know about R.M.S. Titanic? I ask my class every year, and the first hand rises.  “It was unsinkable,” the student inevitably says, and everyone is nodding, “or so they thought.”  I write the word UNSINKABLE on the board, underneath my crude drawing of a ship with four smokestacks.  It will be crossed out before the end of the hour, but not for the reason they expect.

“I find no evidence,” Walter Lord, preeminent biographer of the ship’s survivors, wrote, “that Titanic was ever advertised as unsinkable. This detail seems to have entered the collective mind so as to create a more perfect irony.”  Indeed, historians’ examinations of White Star Line documents show the shipbuilders themselves worried it would be so large as to risk collision; they stocked several more lifeboats than 1910s regulations required.

The War to End All Wars (deep breath, satisfied exhale), also known as World War ONE. Chuckle.  Shake of the head.  What if I told you that this phrase, used primarily in American newspapers after the fact, wasn’t meant to be literal? Nowadays we’d say The Mother of All Wars, or One Hell of a Fucking War, but we wouldn’t mean literal motherhood, literal intercourse.  What if I said the armistice and the Lost Generation and the Roaring 20s were all braced for another outbreak of European conflict, and yet we still failed to prevent it?

Did you know they were so confident in the safety of the S.S. Challenger that they put a civilian schoolteacher onboard? I do, because I’ve heard that one repeated many times.  Only, see, it’s got the cause and effect reversed.  Challenger launched on a day the shuttle’s engineers knew to be dangerously cold, because the first civilian in space was on board. And NASA knew its shuttle project would be cancelled entirely, if they couldn’t get that civilian’s much-delayed entry into space in the next two weeks.  So they launched on a cold day, and killed her instead.

These are all what cognitive science calls Hindsight Bias on the personal level, what sociology calls Presentism on the cultural level.  Social psychology’s a little of both, is primarily interested in why you’re sitting on your couch in a Colonize Mars shirt watching PBS and chuckling at the fools who believed in El Dorado.  It wants to know why the mind flees straight from “marijuana will kill you” to “marijuana will cure cancer” without so much as a pause on the middle ground of its real benefits and drawbacks, its real (mild) risks and rewards.

And they can paralyze the sci-fi writer, if you think too much about them. Jetsons is futurist one decade, retro the next.  “There are no bathrooms on the Enterprise,” the creators of Serenity say smugly, as if Gene Roddenberry should’ve simply known that decades later it’d be acceptable to show a man peeing in full view of the camera, nothing but the curve of the actor’s hand to protect his modesty.  “No sound in space,” the Fandom Menace says, “No explosions in space,” and “A space station can’t collapse in zero-G.”  Only then NASA burns a paper napkin outside of atmosphere, transmits music using only the ghost of nearby planets’ gravities, and logs onto Reddit long enough to point out the Death Star would implode in its own gravity field.  And now we’re the ones pointing, the ones laughing, at those earlier point-and-laughers.  Self-satisfied, smug in superiority.  As if we did the work to find out ourselves, instead of just happening to be born a little later than George Lucas.

[rhiannonsknife]

Who do you think would like Lego? And I mean like as soon as it's built, you're not allowed to touch it. Obsessed with cleaning it and keeping it together. Can't find a piece? They'll freak out. Gets a set they already have for Christmas? They freak out "but I already have this one... IT WON'T MATCH!"

okay okay anon, as a lego lover i have THOUGHTS!!!

JACKIE TAYLOR

— would it be controversial if i said jackie loves lego?? it’s all about control and perfection, two things she absolutely thrives on. i just KNOW jackie takes an insane amount of pride in her builds, especially anything that’s architectural or aesthetically pleasing, like a lego eiffel tower or a bouquet of flowers!

— she loves putting them up as decorations & if anyone so much as breathes too close to her display shelf, she’ll immediately swoop in, “watch it!” then, she’ll proudly add: “this took me hours!”

— also: jackie definitely keeps a small container of spare lego pieces under her bed, just in case any go missing. it’s labeled and organized by color and size. she’s secretly terrified of losing a piece forever, so she always has a backup plan.

VAN PALMER

— okay but van loves lego, without a doubt!! she adores lego sets, especially the ones tied to movies or pop culture (like star wars and stuff) & she definitely has a whole collection on display.

— she’s surprisingly meticulous, though, and her usual humor disappears the moment anyone messes with the completed sets. “seriously, shauna,” she’ll warn during the rare hangouts at her place. “put the stormtrooper back where it belongs!”

— when a piece goes missing, van becomes a whole ass detective: crawling on the floor, combing through the carpet with a flashlight, and muttering, “it was right here. i know it was here! this is sabotage!”

SHAUNA SHIPMAN

— she lowkey gets into lego as a calming, methodical hobby: the instructions don’t change, the pieces always fit together, and the end result is something beautiful and complete, something she can control. (i especially post-crash shauna!)

— she is extremely hesitant to let anyone help her build, because no one will ever do it right. if she really trusts you, she might let you put together a small section…if you promise to follow the instructions to the letter! the second you deviate, though, she’ll firmly take the pieces out of your hand and say: “here, i’ll do it!”

— when shauna gets into a build, she’s hyper-focused. you’ll come by hours later, and she’s still hunched over her desk, muttering some stuff like “where the hell is this 1x3 flat tile?” under her breath. her fingers will be all stiff and aching by the time she’s done, but it’s worth it, especially when you massage her hands afterward or kiss the little imprints on her fingertips better <3

NAT SCATORCCIO

— nat wouldn’t strike you as a lego person, but once she gets into it, after you get her a set for christmas, she’s hooked. it’s like therapy for her, something to focus on that’s productive and satisfying.

— she’s surprisingly protective of her builds, even snapping, “don’t touch that,” at people she usually wouldn’t bother with. “seriously, i’ll kill you if you break it!”

— surprisingly, getting a duplicate set doesn’t upset her as much. nat gets more emotional over receiving presents than she’d ever let on, and she appreciates it so much that somebody takes their time to get her something. “whatever,” she’ll shrug. “i’ll just build it again. maybe I’ll make it better this time!”