#he has half of his ass in a shell and is now just sitting there

[absurddino]

Run, run, run

For @thiamficweekly week 13

Wc: 1254 | rating: M | cw/tw: none | tags: secret relationship, they're so in love it's gross

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Being chased by evil werewolves or Ghost Riders, or basically any creature he's faced so far, is scary. But now, as he runs for his life, he's convinced being chased by Malia Tate was actually the most terrifying thing in the universe. Hunters or evil creatures have nothing on her.

She runs after him, wearing a manic grin on her face, like she's actually enjoying hunting him down like he's her next meal. He's always been a fast runner, but clearly he's not faster than her. It kind of makes sense, since she spent years living as a coyote. Of course hunting would be her strong suit.

He trips over a root and face-plants in the browning leaves. Just his luck, falling on his face while being chased by a half-crazed werecoyote. He's not at all surprised as someone grabs him by the back of his shirt and hauls him upward.

What he is surprised about is the fact that it's Theo, and not Malia. Though he really shouldn't be. Theo always has his back. These days, at least. He gets his legs under him quick enough, and this time they dart off together.

That's 1-0 for Liam. At least he didn't have to beg for his life, like that time Argent had caught up to him a couple weeks ago. He thinks there's still some resentment there, for whatever reason. It's not like Liam's such a bad guy, but the werewolf part must kind of sting.

Running with Theo reminds him of their runs in the woods on full moons. Because that's something Liam can do now, without going crazy. As long as Theo's there, at least. It feels exhilarating, with the power and the fondness of the man besides him coursing through his veins, like it'll keep him alive even if his heart stops.

"She's got my scent. Yours too, we're never escaping her," Liam says between heaving breaths. Malia's always been the best at staying on scents, he kind of admires that about her, actually. It'd be cool to learn, he'll have to ask her about it.

"Thanks for saving me, though. You know I love a knight on the white horse story." Liam looks at him, grinning. Theo's face does something complicated, like it isn't sure if it wants to laugh in Liam's face or be disgusted.

Theo slams a hand on his back, which is either supposed to be motivating or if he's trying to make him fall. Again. "Then we'll just have to keep running for the remaining," he stops talking, breathing loud as he checks his watch, "three hours? Fuck."

"Three hours?" Liam asks. He'd been sure they'd already passed the halfway mark, but he guesses he was wrong. He's not sure if he has the stamina or lung capacity for running three more hours, even as a werewolf. And the woods are kind of Malia's territory, they'll get caught eventually. "Fuck."

"I mean, we put up a good fight, didn't we?" Theo heaves. There's sweat on his face and his hair is brushed back. He wears it well. Makes his facial features stand out, and his face is really nice to look at. "It's either running for three hours or sitting on our asses for three hours."

Liam coughs, the cold fall air getting to him. "Fuck, I hate it when you're right. Slow down."

"I've got a better idea," Theo says, before straight up tackling him to the ground and landing right on top of him. He's crushing him into the dirt and leaves for the second time that day. And that's not even mentioning the elbow that is currently pressed into his side.

Liam lets himself be pressed to the ground. "The fuck are you doing?" He hisses. Just because he'll let Theo do basically anything to him, especially if it means their bodies pressed together without an inch of room between them, doesn't mean he won't have questions about it.

Theo leans up against him, resting his chest against Liam's back to whisper in his ear. "It's our biggest weakness. How much we hate eachother." He licks a slow stripe up the shell of Liam's ear. Underneath him, Liam squirms. He's sure there's a blush rising on his cheeks. Theo always has that effect on him.

But he does understand what Theo's getting at. "Get the fuck off me, you asshole, she's gonna catch us!" He thrashes, trying to buck Theo off without hurting him too much. "Are you trying to get caught?!"

"Shut your mouth, fucking dumbass!" Theo presses his hands against Liam's shoulder blades. If he closes his eyes, he almost feels like he's getting a massage. On days Theo feels particularly anxious, he likes to give Liam massages, with the scented oil and everything. It relaxes them both. And it helps with the way Liam's muscles seem to ache from time to time.

Theo lets himself be thrown off after a moment, Liam crawling on top of him with a grin on his face. He has to resist the muscle memory of leaning forward and licking into his mouth and instead wraps his hands around Theo's throat, pretending to squeeze.

The blush that rises on Theo's cheeks colors him nicely. Liam wishes they were alone right now. Locked in his room for the night, with both his parents on night shifts and no one to bother them.

A foot lands on Liam's back, rudely interrupting him from his thoughts, and he's sprawled on top of Theo. He can't really be mad at Malia, being on top of Theo is fine for him too. It would be better in less public circumstances, though. The air leaves his lungs on the impact and he groans out a "fuck" that makes Theo huff out a laugh beneath him.

"Gotcha, fuckers," Malia says. She pulls them up by their shirts and chains their hands together with the werewolf-proof cuffs Argent had provided for their training session. "Wait by that tree until it's over. If you move, I'll know. And you'll die." She narrows her eyes before taking off again, presumably to scare another pack member.

Theo drags him towards the tree by their cuffed hands. "Careful, asshole!" Liam yells, just to make their act more believable. Theo smiles at him, all soft and crinkled eyes. It's the way he smiles when he's just woken up and realizes Liam's next to him. Or after Liam gets home from school and they can finally hang out. Or make out. Whichever comes first.

"Oh, go fuck yourself!" Theo screams, looking over Liam's shoulder. "I think she's gone. I can't hear her or see her."

"Thank god," Liam mumbles, falling into his arms as Theo leans his back against the tree. He runs a hand up Liam's back. Theo's touch still makes him shiver. "Do you think she bought it?"

"I know she did. No one hates me more than you do. Even I'm unsure whether you're acting or not." Liam grins, his hand trailing up to cup Theo's jaw. His eyes drop to Theo's perfect pink lips.

"Do you want me to show you how much I hate you?" He smiles, eyes moving back up to Theo's just in time to see them blow wide. He doesn't wait for Theo to answer him, instead pressing up into his space and letting their lips slide together sweetly.

If he can spend the next three hours just like this, he thinks luck might be on his side after all.

[a-concert-just-for-me]

Everybody please wish a “please put on some fucking pants” to my naked hermit crab

OnlyCrabs content below if you’re a freak like me

I put him in a little iso container with sand/ecoearth mix, reg food, healing foods, primed salt water, primed fresh water, thermometer/hydrometer (which won’t be very accurate because it’s sitting on wet sand but alas), and of course, a variety of shells.

Hopefully this vacation retreat will force him back into the societal norm of “no public nudity.”

[tsuyalovebot]

make him lose his cool.

suggestive and sexual content. mdni, ageless blogs dni.

xia yi zhou / caleb x reader.

cw. drabble (~1k wc, written in one sitting. ignore any typos.) no sex, but caleb popping a boner like a victorian man. afab reader (that also wears bras). mc=reader.

"caleb is an ass man!" "no, he likes tits!"

personally, i think caleb would have a near panic attack upon seeing your shoulder, elbow, or ankle.

he just does a really good job of pretending he doesn't mind it. after all, the two of you grew up together. he's had to put his hands on you many times — carrying, tending to scrapes and cuts, tickling you, ruffling your hair, squeezing your face. skinship was a language that the two of you were plenty fluent in.

but the year spent apart failed to maintain this, like some half-assed video streaming subscription, and caleb's the newborn fawn learning how to walk.

so what happens when he knocks on the room to his bedroom — it belongs to you now, technically — with a plate of breakfast before coming in, and he witnesses you sitting up, all sleepy and the neckline of his shirt slightly sliding down your shoulder?

he's going to throw himself off a cliffside. maybe even off skyhaven itself.

the plate hits the bedside table on your side with a loud clatter. none of the food spilled over, luckily. he has half a mind to garble some lame excuse about being busy and a quick good morning before trying to bolt.

but, caleb nearly snaps into two when you tug at the hem of his shirt, slumber still slurred in your words as you ask where he's going. there'd been no strength in that tug. yet, he stopped in his tracks all the same. he ends up listening to your grumbles, ones reminding him that it's his day off, remember? you promised you'd spend it with me.

"i gotta take a shower first," he chuckles, hoping his voice wasn't too shaky. please don't notice. please don't notice.

"but caleb," you keen.

god, it's like when he'd take leave from the academy for a few days just to go back to you and gran. always coming home to you, thoroughly acquainted with you not being a morning person but still making the effort to cling to him and savor every second you two spent together.

he assumed it would be the same now, but clearly, that was a mistake. because the coiling tension of warmth threatening to boil over in his stomach was nothing short of treacherous.

caleb does manage to escape; albeit pained by the half-awake whines behind him and the sound of you falling back into bed. god, how badly he wanted to cave into your demands. you don't even know the half of it.

he wonders if you've ever curled into his side of that bed he once slept on, seeking his cologne, his body, his warmth the same way he looks for your silhouette in every corner of this home. a melody he knows, but a name he can't quite place in this shell of a house that transformed in your presence.

regardless, it's really difficult to let this relationship rebuild organically when he was popping a boner over the slightest sliver of skin. the shower's streams are icy on his skin, the impromptu bath having thrown a wrench into his morning routine. he refuses to even touch himself. letting the proof of his sin soften under the biting cold of the water, despite the discomfort.

because nothing was more horrific than having his body react to you like a prepubescent teen discovering porn online for the first time.

caleb thinks he's safe after spending an hour in the bathroom, fingertips pruned and mind cooler than the iciest of planets. but as he's changed back into his clothes, he discovers you beside the door, a blanket around your sitting form and those eyelids droopy.

"pipsqueak? what're you doin' here?" he's crouching down — mortifying boner forgotten as he gathers you into his arms before he realizes it.

then, you stir. a whine muffled into the crook of his neck as you wrap your arms around him, the vibration seeming to ripple down his spinal column. the blanket falls from your body in the motions, and you're so soft compared to the firmness of his body.

his arms tighten around you on instinct and you let out a pleased sound and—

he stiffens. you weren't wearing a bra.

"caleb, you're done." you yawn, like the spoiled, pampered figurehead of royalty you are. you arch up into him, and he swears he feels several of his neurons die, dropping like flies in the empty cavity of his head.

"take me back to bed." he feels the air shift as you seem to inhale his scent. your voice softer, more content when you say, "i wanna sleep some more."

he's so fucking doomed.

[kawamarii]

names they call you in bed

˖ ࣪ ִֶָ nanami - toji - sukuna - choso - gojo - shoko (separate)

contents Ⳋ multi x f!reader, smut, petnames, spanking (toji), spitting (sukuna), praise (nanami, shoko, choso), degradation (sukuna), daddy kink (toji), size kink (nanami), oral (gojo, shoko), just straight nasttyyy

a/n :: this one’s been sitting in the drafts lol, i felt things writing this

<16 and ageless blogs dni

N. KENTO — SWEETHEART

nanami is always so sweet with you. when he comes home from work, all he wants is to lay down with you, relax, and bury his fat cock into you.

“ken—“ you cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as he kisses all over your face as he sinks his dick inch-by-inch into your sopping pussy.

“i knoww, sweetheart, i got you,” he cooes, his large palm caressing your cheek as he thumbs away the tears. “‘s too big, it won’t fit—!” you gasp, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “mm, it’ll fit, honey. it always does, hm? you always take me so well..” he whispers, his hot breath against the shell of your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

he leans up and looks down at where you two were almost fully connected, and he brings his thumb to your swollen pearl, rubbing circles on it to ease you. “there you go, sweetheart. you got it, hm? let me take care of you now.”

once he fully bottoms out, he gives you time to adjust before bucking into you at a slow pace, your gummy walls clamping down around his girth. nanami is such a gentle man when it comes to you.

Z. TOJI — MAMA

toji always fucks you like it’s the last time he ever will. he has your face buried into the pillows while his hips piston into you, pathetic mewls leaving your lips.

he stills, watching you fuck yourself on his cock as he lets out a guttural groan. “yeaah, back that ass up n’me mama, shiiit,”

he stares at the fat of your ass ripple with each bounce with half-lidded eyes, his jaw slack. “you like fuckin’ yerself on daddy’s cock, hm? pussy’s s’greedy,”

“daddy—“ you babble, your head craning to the best of its ability to look back at him, your nails digging into the soft sheets below you.

“hm? what’s it, mama?” he tilts his head cockily, his hands reaching down to grab your hips and continues to thrust into you. “ah— ‘m gonna cum, toj, please—“

he smiles down at you and nods. “yeah? gonna make a mess on this dick? cmon, do it,” he slaps your ass encouragingly, watching the red handprint form.

R. SUKUNA — SLUT

“you’re lucky i didn’t ravish you in front of all those fuckin’ servants,” he seethed, having you in a mating press as he slams his pelvis to yours in an incredible pace.

“ah! ah! kuna, ‘m sorry, please slow down—!” you cry, but to no avail. he grabs your face to look at his as he speaks. “no. you wanted to act like a slut? now you’re gonna be treated as a slut, so take this dick.”

you moan out, your legs propped up over his shoulders as he fisted the sheets below you. his lips were slightly parted as he watched your tears flow down your cheeks, a sadistic smile lacing his face.

“open your mouth,” he commands, and you dumbly nod, parting your lips. in a quick motion, he spits down on your tongue, and you blink quickly in response. “swallow it.”

you obey, swallowing it and then opening your mouth to show him. he pats your cheek condescendingly. “now you wanna listen? damn, you really are a slut.”

K. CHOSO — BABY

“f-fuck— baby, y’gotta loosen up, okay?” he hisses, his cock buried deep in your cunt as you pant. “promise ‘ll make you feel so good, but you gotta relax, can’t move,”

he knows your overwhelmed, he is too — but the way your clamping down on him makes him feel like he could cum on the spot.

he reassures you, his face next to yours as he sweet talks into your ear, and your tense muscles begin to relax a bit. “there you go, good girl,” he shushes.

“cho, please, need you to move,” you whimper, and he nods. “okay, baby, i hear you. gonna take care of you, okay?” he says, earning a quick nod from you in response that makes a soft smile curl up on his lips.

he begins to thrust into you, a moan leaving his lips. “fuck, you feel so good, you’re so good—“ his hands grip your hips, hard enough to leave marks. he can’t help but become pussy drunk, he��s addicted to you.

G. SATORU — PRINCESS

he’s manspread on the couch whilst your on your knees, his head thrown back as your lips wrap and suck on his cock.

you let out whimpers each time his tip prods at the back of your throat, tears welling up in your eyes as you try your best to take him as far as you can. he looks down at you, his eyes lidded as your struggle only turns him on even more.

“you’re fuckin’ dirty,” he lazily smiles, “you like this, huh? you like having your face stuffed with cock, princess?” he cooed, brushing the strands of hair that stuck to your sweaty skin out of your face. you hum in agreement, the vibration shooting up his spine with a groan.

“go on, then. make me cum with that pretty mouth of yours and i’ll reward you.”

I. SHOKO — PRETTY

she hums against your folds, your hand tangled in her brown strands as she presses a kiss to your pearl. “you taste so sweet,” she says half to herself, looking up at you. “you feelin’ good, pretty?” she cocks her head as she makes up for the momentary loss of her tongue with her fingers.

you nod quickly, too stimulated to form any coherent words. she chuckles, enamored with how adorable you were being. “i know you are, pretty girl, pussy’s so wet,”

you go to say something but she shushes you. “shhh, she’s talkin’ to me, pretty, listen to how fuckin’ loud she is,” she scissors her fingers in your cunt, earning a loud squelch. you flush, hiding your face.

“awh, don’t hide from me, pretty. gonna eat this cunt and i wanna see every reaction, okay?”

© marimisses on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[miiyas]

thinking about childhood crush sukuna…

iya im telling you rn when i got this ask i jumped out of my bed and thought about this all day and all week

childhood crush sukuna who had been your best friend since elementary. it's a scary part of a kid's life, seriously !! it's the time when social groups are made and lasting connections are formed. and you, inevitably shy and quiet, had lagged behind that flow of making friends. that is, until sukuna abruptly came into the picture

childhood crush sukuna also lagged in making any friends. his stubborn attitude and rough demeanor made it hard for kids to like him. not that he really cared, he's long grown to the odd stares he gets

childhood crush sukuna who defends you against a few bullies teasing and picking on you for being so quiet. he stands in front of you with his arms spread out, brows furrowed as he makes snark comments back at the kids. he's taller than them by a head or two and the mere sight of him makes the brats run off. "you're so pathetic, you know that ?" he mumbles, cocking his head behind him to see you wiping a tear away from your eyes. sukuna scoffs and rolls his eyes and yet, he throws you a tissue and walks off. he hates people like you- those who can't save themselves in dumb situations like this isn't worth his time

childhood crush sukuna who, despite his beliefs in your weakness, had made a silent oath to himself to keep an eye on you on that day. he doesn't even realize he's even made one, but he has slowly fallen into the routine of holding onto your small hands tightly as you both make way around the school and cross the road to get home, his face plush with a pout and pinched brows

childhood crush sukuna who had watched you grow throughout elementary, middle, and now high school, watching you bloom and grow out of your silent shell and make friends of your own while he stayed the same. not that he minds. after all, you're the only one he waits for after school and walks home with, and that's all he needs. what's the point in having someone else with him if you're his day one ?

childhood crush sukuna who has gotten so familiar with your home he practically lives there. your mother says her welcome in her soft, hosting manner (despite constantly asking you just why he has gotten face tattoos) and he sits in the living room, eating whatever snacks you had left out while scrolling through his phone and listening to you ramble about how impossible your math homework has gotten

childhood crush sukuna would constantly deny all allegations of dating you. he's been asked that since his first year, and like muscle memory, he says a flat no. but lately, as the question is continuously brought up, sukuna can't deny the fact that his gaze lingers on your face for longer than usual, peaking behind his phone whenever you're in the middle of one of your rants, and absent-mindedly thinking of you when another girl is speaking to him. no, sukuna doesn't like you. nah, he thinks, he'd rather get punched in the gut than say that

"took your ass long enough." sukuna gruffs, pushing himself off of the wall of the brick school building as soon as he catches sight of you walking out the doors. he's been waiting. he's been waiting this whole time.

with a snatch of your bag, he swings it onto his shoulder and walks beside you. not ahead of you, god, never ahead. you've long earned the title and position to walk beside him, if not that, then slightly ahead.

"sorry, sorry !! got so busy talking to a friend." you hum out a half-hearted apology, knowing there was no malice in his tone. with a roll of his eyes, you and sukuna walk the path you both have taken for years. he's careful to study your steps, slow and carefree- like a tourist taking in the scenery, acting as if you haven't seen it thousands of times. but he doesn't mind. sukuna had grown and adapted to your habits, brushing it off and filing it as another one of your antics.

but today, oddly enough, was slightly different.

today, in sukuna's eyes, you were glowing. like the sun's soft cast as it starts to set just as it hits the horizon, the casual smile on your lips the only thing he could stare, and god ... he knew he was in deep.

there's a crosswalk you both need to stop by when trying to get to the neighborhood. sukuna always lets you press the button in request for crossing. he's more cautious, looking up from his phone for just a few moments until you make it to the other side, and he always fights the thought of grabbing onto your hands, just as he did as a child, the soft, tingling sensation in his hands forced to be warded off by the clench of his fists.

that afternoon is the moment that sukuna comes to the sudden blast and heart dropping realization that he is wholly, undeniably, and unknowingly in love with you. he realizes it on the path you two have taken since childhood and he realizes it through the routine the both of you have established since first meeting. he realizes it with the way you look at him, gently and so full of kindness and love.

[buckyalpine]

A thot. A smutty, slutty, scandalous thot. With Bodyguard Bucky. Possessiveness, size kink, breeding kink, all of it. Now, imagine being the sweet, quiet, beautiful wife of the esteemed John Walker, CEO of Walker Industries. You sit at his table, clapping with the proudest smile on your face as he accepts an award for another successful year. Your husband dedicates all his success to the beautiful woman who has supported him through all the ups and downs, who has been by his side through it all.

You.

You blow a shy kiss in his direction when the cameras pan over to you, giggling at the wink he throws back. The press will have a field day about the most envied couple in the world, so perfect and so in love. As the night nears its end, your husband gives your hand a squeeze from where he sits beside you, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

"Going to have to stop by office darling, one our major investors just called" He kisses your cheek affectionately with an apologetic look on his face but the understanding smile you give him back lets him know you're not the least bit upset.

"Of course, I'll miss you" You reply and take a sip from your champagne, appearing oblivious to the glances that are thrown your way by the others as your husband leaves without you, his secretary following closely behind him.

All the hushed whispers.

Poor woman has no idea.

All the secrets.

Just a pretty thing on his arm, probably doesn't have a clue.

Doesn't have a clue her husband has been carrying on with his secretary late into the nights and all through out his business trips.

Such a shame she's none the wiser. Has no one thought to tell her? Pity she's genuinely so in love with him.

Truly such a shame, wasn't it?

Such a shame your husband had no idea your bodyguard fucked your brains out till he busted balls deep in side you every chance he got.

Bucky doesn't say a word as he leads you out of the venue, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, helping you into the car. As soon as he slipped in beside you, you rolled up the dark partition before slinking onto his lap and slamming your lips against his. Bucky groaned against your lips, his hands finding their way home to grope and spank your ass, guiding your hips to grind down on his erection straining against his black pants.

"Need me to take care of you, huh princess" He murmured against the shell of your ear before going back to lacing his tongue with yours causing a shiver to run down your spine, nipping his pouty lip and grasping onto the lapels of his blazer.

No time was wasted as you straightened yourself out upon entering your home, quickly dismissing the staff to leave for the night, giving you free reign to do as you pleased.

As soon as the house was empty, he tossed you over his shoulder, striding up the stairs and straight to the master bedroom. He dropped you onto your large bed, tearing your dress in half down the middle, letting the material fall away at your feet.

"Fuck this" He grabbed your left hand, tugging off the wedding band you wore for appearances and tossing it carelessly across the room. He took off the silver tog tags that hung around his neck, slipping them over your head and letting his name sit perfectly between your breasts, the sight making him feral.

"Didn't even bother with panties" Bucky licked his lips at the sight of your bare naked body, not even a tiny sliver of lace covering your modesty. "You knew, didn't you"

"Always" You purred, knowing damn well your husband would fuck off to bang his desperate little secretary, unknowingly also giving you the night of your life you so badly craved. You crawled to the middle of the bed, your legs spread while Bucky tossed his blazer and shirt off, his pants and brief's quick to follow.

"Lookit you baby, so naughty, fuckin' your bodyguard in the same bed your husband sleeps in"

You let out a needy whimper while he stayed at the edge of the bed enjoying the view, his hand coming down to wrap around his cock giving himself long, languid strokes.

"James, please" you pleaded with a pout but Bucky just smirked in return, hissing as he swiped his thumb over the wet slit of his cockhead.

"I know prinţesă, I know, let me look at how pretty you are" He cooed, joining you on the bed and slotting himself between your legs. You wrapped your arms around his thick shoulders while he let his cock slip between your folds, rolling his hips to hump against your bare cunt. "You're soaked angel, been waiting for this, hm?"

"Wanted you so bad, need you James" Your hips bucked up, chasing the feeling of his fat cock rubbing against you, his swollen cockhead bumping your clit every time he pushed forward. "No teasing, please, missed your cock so bad"

"Shhh, you have me baby, m'right here, yeah?" Bucky kissed away the tears that started to slip down your cheeks, your arousal smearing all over his balls. He guided his dripping cockhead to press against your clit making you cry out, circling his most sensitive parts against yours, "M'right here, feel that angel? Y'feel how wet m'getting for you baby, right on that pretty clit, such a good girl letting me jus' leak all over her slutty little pussy, fuck theres so much precum 'nd m'not even inside you yet"

You'd never felt more empty, clawing at Bucky's back, your pussy fluttering and clenching over the way his silky tip kept tracing circles around your throbbing, sensitive bud. He flicked his cockhead across your clit a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.

"S'fuckin' tight, sh-shit" Bucky moaned as he started to press into you, sliding all the way home in one swift motion. He stayed still, holding your body close to his while your legs wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, begging for him to do something.

"Move Jamie, please, c'mon, fuck me damn it, I need you, I need- FUCCKK" Your words slurred into sobs as Bucky started to fuck you hard and fast, already too needy with having to get a night alone with you.

"Needed me huh angel? fuckin' needed you too, s'all I think about pretty girl, just me n' you, how-oh fuck- how are you so tight around my cock" Bucky rambled, bringing his knee up to get a deeper angle, his hands coming to lace with yours, pinning you against the mattress.

"Missed-fuck-missed you Jamie" You whimpered, your pussy squeezing and sucking his cock back in,

"My baby loves her fat cock, I know, know you're so empty when I can't fill you up sweet girl, you love your bodyguard's big dick don't you" The taunt in his voice only got you off more, your eyes rolling back as he continued to rail you. "You're pussy's choking me so tight, don't think I can hold back tonight princess, don't think I'll be able to pull out"

"Don't" you whispered and something in the air switched, the highly charged sexual tension replaced with something more desperate and needy as you clung onto each other reading closer and closer to your highs.

"Mmph, y'can't say that, gonna wet your bed with my cum prinţesă, you'd like that wouldn't you, my cum covering all your sheets, your pillows smelling like me, letting me fill you up till your belly gets all swollen"

Bucky's voice melted into a whine, his dominance faltering into something needier, quickly shoving the thought away because he knew there was no chance. It would never happen. You'd never be so careless for such an accident to happen.

"Want it Jamie, want it all with you, please, don't-fuck, oh God-don't pull out" Your glassy eyes wet with tears showed no signs of deception but it couldn't be. He searched your gaze and you could see the innocence in his face wishing this were real, the way his body moved with yours, wishing it was just you and him. "St-stopped taking birth control"

Bucky sobbed at your confession, fucking you harder, making the headboard slam against the wall with his powerful thrusts. His hips snapped , shoving his cock all the way into your pussy, his balls growing heavier at the thought of leaving a piece of him inside of your fertile womb.

"you're fuckin' mine, you hear me? Mine. Mine. Mine. Say it!" Bucky grunted, biting your neck making you scream, your back arching off the bed, pressing your chest further against his.

"M'yours, all yours, just' yours" You slurred out, eyes rolling back and your moans turning nearly silent as immense pleasure crept down your spine.

"Gonna put my baby in you, make you mine forever, fuck your husband, your gonna be the mother of my child, just you prinţesă, all you, ALL YOU" Bucky roared against your neck as he shot ropes of his cum deep in your pussy, giving you harsh, sloppy thrusts as he grew more sensitive. He wrapped his arms around your body with his face tucked into your neck, shuddering at the feeling of your soft hands caressing his back, running your fingers through his soft cropped locks.

You hardly noticed him carrying you over to his room down the hall, tucking you into the warm sheets, resting your head on his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I love you" You murmured, smiling at the empty space on your ring finger and feeling the comforting coolness of his chain around your neck.

One day.

"I love you more, prinţesă" Bucky murmured, meaning every word as you both drifted off to sleep.

You couldn't wait to leave your husband.

a/n: This was meant to be way sluttier and less in the feels so might need to revisit this with a different version

[lovebugism]

if you're still looking for shy reader ones (with a hint of smuttiness) maybe Eddie finds shy reader's sex toys?

ty! — eddie munson stumbles upon your sex toy and shy!you learns to cope (shy!fem!r, fluff, allusions to smut 18+)

Twisted in thin sheets and Eddie’s Hellfire shirt, you fight for slumber in the honeyed haze of your bedroom. You rest on your stomach, arms wrenched around the pillow you clutch to your face. A heavy, comforting weight smooths over your back in the familiar shape of Eddie Munson. A lazy smile tugs at your lips.

“How are we supposed to nap if you won’t stop touching me?” you mumble as the boy sprinkles chaste kisses to your jaw and neck.

“Can’t help it. You’re too pretty,” he slurs, still sleepy but trying to fight it. 

The tip of his nose traces your pulse point when he moves down to kiss the bare skin of your shoulder — where the neck of your shirt has fallen slightly down. Chill bumps erupt beneath his touch. You feel his smile contort against your skin. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Eddie teases. “I know you do.”

“Hm,” you hum, writhing slightly between the mattress and his body. “I do like it,” you confess in a half-muffled murmur.

“Yeah?”

You nod against the pillow. “Very much…”

His bare stomach settles flush against your back when he rises on his forearms. His crotch ruts subtly (only sort of unintentionally) against your ass — cock already half-hard and aching. His plush mouth brushes the shell of your ear. You fight back a shiver. 

“Have any rubbers?” he mumbles.

“Top drawer. On the right.”

Eddie scoffs and sits back on his haunches, taking his warmth and the covers with him. He swats your ass with a rough, but not unkind hand, before rising off the squeaking mattress. “You minx,” he chuckles. “What the hell do you have a pack of rubbers here for?”

You giggle weakly into the pillow. “The same reason everyone has ‘em, Eds.”

“Who else are you using them with, huh?”

You’d roll your eyes at him if they were open. “No one,” you scoff. “You’ll be pleased to find them unopened.”

With your eyes still shut, you only hear the squeaking of an opened drawer. You wait for the sound of Eddie ripping the box open like a total maniac, but it never comes. The strange silence makes your chest ache.

“Well…” Eddie scoffs in a teasing lilt. “What is this?”

You lift your heavy head from the pillow to glance at him over your shoulder. Squinting with tired eyes, you find the boy on the exact opposite side of the dresser you pointed him towards. Your veins flood with an ice-cold horror. 

“I said on the right!” you shout, rising from the mattress and rushing towards him with a newfound life.

“This is the right!” Eddie argues, then makes an L shape with both his hands. His brows raise beneath his fluffy bangs when he realizes he’s gotten them backwards. “…Oh.”

You slam the drawer shut, as if the damage hasn’t already been done. 

You’re not sure what’s more embarrassing, actually — the fact that your boyfriend’s just seen your drawer of sex toys, or the fact that they’re audibly jostling against one another while you try to hide them. Both equally make you so mortified you could die.

“Hey!” Eddie shouts. “I was looking at those!”

You glare at him. “Don’t make fun!”

“I’m not making fun!” he assures through a set of boyish giggles. He gestures wildly with ringed hands and tells you, “You’re a girl with needs, babe— I’m actually glad you’re taking care of yourself when I’m not around.”

“Eddie!” you shout, equal parts scolding and whining.

He laughs again, louder now but no less sincere. “I’m serious! You don’t have to be embarrassed about it, okay? It’s normal. And it doesn’t bother me. Alright? No big deal.” He tilts his wild head to his shoulder and smiles lazily down at you. “Well. As long as you’re not planning on trading me for Mr. Sparkling Pink Vibrator in there—”

You swat half-heartedly at his chest, face screwed with a distant horror. “I said don’t make fun!” you grouse and try to step back from him.

Eddie pulls you back by your wrists, making you stumble into his chest. He ducks down until the tip of his nose brushes the bridge of yours. With a bright pink and crooked beam, he tells you, “I’m kidding, alright? I’m just messin’. I’ll leave you alone about it, okay?”

“Promise?” you murmur in a mousy voice.

“Mhm. I promise,” he nods once, then can’t help but smirk. “Unless, you know, you ever wanna use ‘em together…”

Your nose scrunches at the offer. Not because you don’t like it (your stomach is warm and swirling at the thought), but because you didn’t like he would. “You’d wanna do that? With me?”

“Yeah. You know, whenever you want. No big deal…” he shrugs and tries to be cool about it. 

But the thought of pinning you beneath his body, piercing you with his cock, and holding the pretty vibrator to your clit while you scream for him — unable to decide whether you want more of his merciless pleasure or if you can’t take any of it anymore — makes his hands tremble with yearning. 

“Though… Now would be preferable.”

[thef1diary]

Omg di imagine crashing the car or a race doesn’t go as expected, so you blame the strategy and go off on the team on radio in rage and team principal carlos is NOT happy about it

— bon!! I love this so much! TP!carlos is not happy at all, and of course he’ll punish you for it…in front of the team and in your hotel room, with a lot less clothes. 18+ content below

The second you step out of the car, the tension is palpable. The garage is silent, all eyes darting between you and Carlos as you yank your helmet off, frustration still written all over your face. You’d gone off on the team over the radio after the race—an emotional, fiery tirade blaming the strategy for your poor result but it had majorly been your own fault.

Carlos is waiting for you, his arms crossed, jaw clenched, his dark eyes burning with restrained fury.

“Meeting. Now.” His voice is low, deadly calm, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

You follow him to the debrief room, where the entire team also gathers, their expressions varying from uncomfortable to outright nervous. Carlos doesn’t sit; he looms at the head of the room, his presence commanding, his gaze fixed entirely on you.

“Care to explain yourself?” he asks, his tone clipped.

You stammer out a half-hearted explanation, but it’s clear he’s not interested in excuses. He cuts you off with a sharp gesture. “No. You don’t talk to the team like that. Ever.” His voice rises, but only slightly—it’s the controlled anger that has everyone on edge. “This team works day and night for you, and you repay them by humiliating them on an open channel? Unacceptable.”

You shrink under his scrutiny, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. When the meeting finally ends, he dismisses everyone but keeps his gaze locked on you.

Later, when the hotel room door slams shut, the sound echoing through the space, Carlos immediately spins you around and pins you against the wall. His hand fists in your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp, and his lips graze the shell of your ear as he growls, “You embarrassed me. Humiliated the team. And now, you’re going to pay for it.”

His hands are unforgiving as they strip you of your clothes, each piece tossed carelessly aside until you’re bare before him. He doesn’t bother undressing at all, only rolling up his sleeves to his forearms. His eyes darken as he takes you in, his tongue sweeping across his bottom lip.

“On the bed,” he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You scramble to obey, lying back on the cool sheets, but Carlos shakes his head. “No. Knees.”

You shift onto all fours, your body trembling as he moves behind you. His large hands grip your hips, holding you still as he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You think you can act like a spoiled brat over the radio and get away with it? You think you deserve to cum after that display?”

Before you can answer, his palm cracks against your ass, the sting sharp and biting. You yelp, but he doesn’t let up, delivering another, then another, each slap punctuated by his scolding.

“Count,” he snaps.

You stumble over the numbers, your voice shaky as the punishment blurs into something far more intoxicating.

By the time he’s done, your ass is flushed and littered with his handprints, your knees wobbling from the intensity. But Carlos doesn’t stop there. He flips you onto your back with ease, his hand wrapping around your throat—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of his control.

His mouth is on you next, biting and sucking a trail down your neck, your chest, your stomach. He’s relentless, leaving marks in his wake, a reminder of this night that you’ll feel tomorrow.

He spreads your legs wide as he settles between them. His fingers slide through your wetness, teasing your clit just enough to make you squirm.

“You’re dripping,” he taunts, his lips curving into a wicked smirk. “Pathetic. But you’re not cumming. Not yet.”

His fingers thrust into you, slow and deliberate, curling just right to make you whimper. But every time your hips buck, desperate for more, he pulls away, slapping your clit sharply. The sting makes you cry out, your body jerking, but Carlos just chuckles darkly.

“You’re going to apologize to the entire team tomorrow,” he orders, his voice low and commanding, “until then, you’ve lost the right to cum.”

He keeps you on edge, working you up until your thighs shake, your breath ragged, only to stop the moment he feels you getting close. Each slap to your swollen clit is a punishment, a reminder of your outburst, and the sadistic gleam in his eyes tells you he’s enjoying every second of your torment.

“Say it,” he demands, his fingers circling your clit slowly, teasingly. “Say you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” you gasp immediately, your voice barely above a whisper.

Carlos shakes his head, his fingers stopping entirely. “Louder. Like you mean it.”

“I’m sorry!” you cry out, desperation lacing your tone.

Satisfied, he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Good. And if you ever pull a stunt like that again, this will seem like mercy. Understood?”

All you can do is nod, your body sore and your mind already spinning with the anticipation of what he might do next time.

He pulls away entirely, leaving you aching and needy, your body trembling as he smirks down at you. “Rest up, nena. You’ll need it for tomorrow.” And with that, he leaves you there, completely wrecked, your pussy still throbbing for the release he’s refused to give.

want more team!principal!carlos? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[222col]

bimbo!reader x patrick zweig

summary: patrick finally gives into his impulses, and he doesn't think he'll ever get over it

cw .ᐟ nsfw, age gap, unprotected p in v, spanking

wide eyes and a lack of clothing has patrick nearly foaming at the mouth, hovering over you on your pink sheets. his temptation personified as his calloused hands roam over the bare skin of your ribs. he's biting back groans just from seeing you underneath him like this, but patrick can't stop his hands from cupping your clothed breasts. his own eyes nearly rolling back from the sound that escapes you as he does.

“it’s not right, kiddo,” the word should deter you, yet you find yourself even further turned on as the two syllables drip from patrick’s mouth. his hands stay massaging your chest, his eyes half-lidded as they cast over your barely covered body. your back arching, plus your parted lips, patrick knows he’s not stepping away from you. he just needed to know he put up some kinda fight before letting himself indulge completely.

“you’re too young, pretty girl, don’t wanna hurt you.” he murmurs, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. the bare skin of his chest pressed up against your skin.

shaking your head profusely, an almost pout on your lips as his hands slip underneath the lace of your bra. patrick was never going to deny you, how could he when you were looking up at him with those pretty eyes? his fingers gently pinch at your pebbled nipples and he's already grinding against the mattress, the fabric of his jeans doing little to give him any release.

"mm, you want it, baby, don't ya?" patrick hums, smirking down to you as your hands scramble with his belt buckle. he chuckles, taunting you at your eagerness. his hands leave your chest, sitting up on his knees as he slowly starts to unbuckle his belt, patrick's eyes not once leaving yours.

"tell me how bad you want it," he smirks, as he begins pulling his belt out of his jean loops at an agonisingly slow pace. when he hears nothing but mumbles from your lips, patrick suddenly flips your body onto your stomach. the leather belt wrapped around his fist as he positions himself over the back of your calves, resting his weight on your legs.

"you run that mouth all day, yet now you're quiet, huh?" you don't need to see his face to know he's got a shit-eating grin plastered across his lips. the sound of the leather slapping against the skin of your ass echos around the room, the squeal that escapes you only makes patrick chuckle lowly before thwacking the leather against you once more. "use your fuckin' words, kiddo, tell me how bad you want it."

the sting from his belt ripples through your body, hissing at the pain as the pout becomes present on your lips again. "need it bad, pat." you mumble, looking up to the brunette over your shoulder. "p-please, pat, need it real bad."

"was that so fuckin' hard, huh?" he taunts, ripping your lace panties down your legs before pushing his jeans down. patrick quickly discards them behind him as he flips you back over onto your stomach. he was downright desperate to watch your face contort as he finally felt inside of you.

spreading your legs as he positions himself between them, one hand planted into the mattress next to your head as the other slowly pumps his cock as he teases your entrance. slapping himself against your puffy clit, soaking up every sweet sound that hits his ears from your mouth.

an evil smirk on his face as he slowly slides himself fully into you. your face scrunched as patrick bottoms out, manicured nails pressing in sharply to his thighs. attempting to hold him still as he all but splits you open. “take it like a good girl,” he purrs. lip quivering as you barely adjust to his size, mumbles of ‘s’too big, pat’ leaving your mouth as your legs clench around his waist.

“c’mon, quit whinin’, you asked for it, kiddo.” patrick smirks, forehead resting on yours as his hips start to jackrabbit into you. his hips slap against your skin, sure to leave bruises with the force in which he's fucking himself into you.

nails scraping down his toned back, leaving red scratches in its wake. small drops of blood spreading across his skin as your nails cut him open. patrick fucking loves it. grasping hold of your thighs as he pushes your ankles up onto his shoulders, mouth sloppily pressing kisses to your ankles as he pushes even deeper inside of you. hitting the spongy spot that has you almost screaming out his name.

“squeezin’ me so fucking tight, baby,” he mumbles as your hands grasp hold of his face, pulling him down onto your lips as teeth and tongues clash together. sweat forming on his skin as his large hands grasp hold of your waist, pulling your body back onto him repeatedly as he keeps thrusting harshly into you. "pussy's fuckin' made for me."

his words only made you clench further around him, explicit groans falling from his mouth as you do. patrick's hand grasps hold of your jaw, forcing your eyes onto he pushes his thumb inside your mouth. slack-jawed as patrick's digit pulls your mouth open, and he swears he could have came at the sight. bubblegum lips wrapping around his thumb as patrick keeps rutting into you, moans vibrating against his thumb.

"fuckin' hell, kiddo," the pet name falling of his lips too easily, his pace growing sloppy as he pushes your legs closer to your body by your calves. pornographic moans filling up your pretty pink room, patrick's grip on your calves tight as he regains his pace, chasing his own orgasm.

"gonna fuckin' fill you up, princess." he groans, crushing your body as he leans further forward, pushing down on the bulge on your abdomen, feeling himself inside you. the pressure in your stomach growing tighter as he does, even more so as his hand moves to circle your bundle of nerves. "o-oh, fuck, shit— pat!"

his smirk grows as the string of profanities hit his ears, his thumb lazily rubbing against you as his mouth returns to your ankle, letting one of your legs drop down. sweat slicking your bodies together as they meet, furrowed brows as patrick's eyes don't leave your face. he can feel how close you are, with how tight you're squeezing him and how much louder you're getting. hands balled around the fabric of your sheets as patrick lets a glob of spit drop from his mouth down onto your cunt, circling your clit faster with the extra wetness.

head thrown back against the pillows, mouth flung open, patrick's name the only word you can manage to speak. "aw, pretty baby's so fuckin' dumb from my cock," he mocks, but you can't even fight him on his words, too cock-drunk to even think about a snarky reply. lips pouted, nodding your head, desperate for him.

"nnph— fuck, fuck, pat! m'cumming!" if patrick wasn't already done for, he was the second he felt you come over his cock. watching your legs jolt, feeling you clench around him as though you never wanted to let him leave your body.

body contorted in ways you'd never experienced as patrick pushes you further into the mattress, fucking you deeper than anyone had ever been. his load shooting up into you as groans of your name echo around the room. "f'ck me, princess, pussy's fuckin' perfect." patrick mumbles as his body collapses onto yours.

his curls slick to his forehead, bruises already starting to form on your waist and legs. patrick presses lazy open-mouthed kisses to any part of skin his mouth can reach as both of your breathing starts to calm. "we can't do that again, kiddo." he breathes out, naked bodies still attached to each other.

"mhm, sure, pat, whatever you say." you mumble, knowing full well he'll never be able to resist you again.

© 222col. do not steal or repost my work without permission.

[fangdokja]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫 ~ 𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓮𝓭 𝓱𝓪𝓫𝓲𝓽𝓼

Atsumu has never been good with feelings.

They sit in his chest like something rotting, a dead weight he doesn’t know what to do with. He was never taught how to hold something precious—only how to take, how to win, how to fuck and leave and move on without a second thought.

But you—you—you’ve made it impossible to move on.

It’s been building for months, twisting inside him like a sickness. He feels it when you ignore him. When you roll your eyes and scoff. When you look at other men like they’re worth something.

Like he isn’t.

And then one night, something inside him snaps.

You don’t see him coming.

One second, you’re stepping into your apartment. The next, the door slams shut behind you, and a heavy body shoves you against it.

Your scream is muffled by his hand.

“Shh, shh—fuck’s sake, ya act like I’m a stranger.”

The scent of sweat and expensive cologne chokes you, the heat of him suffocating. Your nails claw at his wrist, legs kicking, but he just laughs—a sharp, breathless thing, like even he can’t believe this is happening.

“Didn’t like that, huh?” His voice is a low, teasing drawl. “Didn’t like bein’ caught?”

You struggle harder.

It only makes him press against you more, rolling his hips against your ass, letting you feel the thick outline of his cock against your back.

“Y’know, I tried bein’ normal ‘bout this.”

A hand sneaks beneath your skirt.

You jolt. Thrash.

He tsks, catching both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them against the wood.

“Tried doin’ it the right way—takin’ ya on dates, buyin’ ya nice things. But ya wouldn’t fuckin’ let me.”

His fingers find the waistband of your shorts. Tug. Yank. Rip.

You twist, shaking your head.

“Aww, baby.” He kisses the shell of your ear, mockingly sweet. “It’s too late fer all that now.”

His cock shoves inside in one brutal thrust.

Your body seizes—pain blooming hot and deep, your walls struggling to take him. He groans, forehead dropping against your shoulder, gripping your hips so tight you know you’ll bruise.

And then he moves.

Hard, fast, brutal—dragging cries from your throat, ignoring the way you thrash and sob.

“This is what ya get, princess.” His teeth sink into your shoulder, muffling another groan. “This is what happens when ya keep pushin’ me away.”

Your walls clench involuntarily, body betraying you, and Atsumu laughs.

“That’s it, baby—yer gettin’ it now, huh?”

A rough hand cups your chin, tilting your face toward his.

His golden eyes are dark, half-lidded, full of something ravenous.

“Maybe this is how I should’a loved ya from the start.”

Official TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @save4h , @rofkshinee , @songbirdgardensworld , @yanderedrabbles

[avalon-of-babylon]

I fucking love genuinely out of touch rich guy Bruce Wayne. Like realistically, yeah, he knows the value of a dollar and how far it gets you but just off the people around him it would be fucking hilarious.

Dick who's lived his entire life in the circus asks for some lunch money.

Rich guy™️ Bruce hands him a thousand because he doesn't have anything smaller.

Reporter Clark Kent casually venting about his 2 mortgages.

Rich guy™️ Bruce tries to relate by talking about how hard it is to juggle his 27 private properties across the world hidden in various shell companies full of millions of dollars worth of batman gear.

Meanwhile Oliver Queen who just has the 1 house, shoves everything into a gym bag and flies his own ass places is sitting there like what the fuck.

Jason certified street kid and son of a drug addict currently splitting rent 5 ways "Yeah it's been hard to keep the lights on with Roy in rehab"

Rich guy™️ Bruce "why don't you dip into your trust fund?"

Jason certified problem child perpetually on the edge of getting disowned. "My what now?"

Commissioner Gordon, father of two, fully aware his daughter is batgirl, spends half his paycheck on his son's indefinite psychiatric treatment, cant afford to leave the rent controlled apartment he's had half his damn life, with a literal nightmare job in the worst city in the world, paranoid because of the stupid amount of corruption around him constantly, and is always on the edge of a mental breakdown.

Rich guy™️ Bruce "You need a vacation. There's this amazing place in the Bahamas you should try-"

Commissioner Gordon, whose idea of a vacation is faking his death for a week in a sting operation, already sobbing.

[soiwj]

hiii! i rlly love your arle/reader baker au,,,,it’s so cute ueueue & i had a thought, what if arle got jealous of someone that’s suddenly rlly close & flirts w reader while she’s visiting reader’s bakery or smtg? that’d be a sight to see >:)

but again, thank u for writing such a great fic!

Omg wtf? That is such an amazing prompt i love you literally kiss me?

Jealousy's Delight

jealous!arlecchino x baker!fem!reader

Synopsis: Someone's starting to get a little too fond of our lovely baker, and Arlecchino seems to have a problem with that.

You just woke up, and your hair's a mess as you saunter downstairs to your bakery. It's times like these where you really appreciate living right above it. As you finish prepping all the boxes for Arle to carry, you set up your kitchen like normal, preparing for another day of sitting idly behind your store counter waiting for clients to order.

Although your customer frequencies and ratings have increased since closing a contract with the house of the hearth, it's a blessing and a curse. Not many people want to get involved with the fatui, but some people get curious and actually end up liking the sweets.

Normally, Arle tends to be a bit early when picking up the boxes, leaving right when your bakery opens, but today, it seems she's a bit delayed. Nevertheless, you set the baby pink boxes aside as you flip the open hanging on your glass door towards the open world.

After half an hour, the bakery is scarcely filled with a few people. Margret, sitting in the corner enjoying her croissant with a cup of tea and a surprisingly hard crossword puzzle. Judonte, another local, sitting in one of the couches enjoying his coff-

"..hello?" You hear an energetic voice tear you out of your thoughts.

"O-oh hello! Sorry, it's still morning, haha. What can I get ya?" You quickly recover from your slacking. Wouldn't want the new customer to be on your ass for not working hard enough. Weirdly enough, you don't recognize this one. His dark blue hair falls slightly over his forhead as his bright green eyes stare straight into your soul. "Wait, I haven't seen you before. Are you new in town?"

He looks confused yet pleased at your question. "Yes actually, I just moved here from Liyue. It's quite a contrast between here and there." He grins at you before looking behind you at the menu.

"Hmm, let me see, you have quite a lot of options. Are you the only one working today?" You look at him, slightly confused. "Oh no, I'm the only one that works here. I'm the bakeries owner." His face is painted with a surprised look as he slips back into his ever-confident demeanor.

"Wow, you set this place up all by yourself? You must be quite the talented lady." He smirks as he takes a swift look at the show-pasteries before turning back to you. "I must say, this croissant looks really delicious, but that's not the only sweet treat in here." He winks as he delivers his line almost theatrically, straight out of romeo and juliette.

"Well yeah its a bakery, we have more than just a singular tasty snack, haha." That pick-up line flew right past your head straight into his ego, oh my.

"Haha, I guess you're right. Maybe we could get coffee sometime?-"

"I'm afraid she won't have the time." The white and black haired woman says while gripping the mans shoulder. Tightly.

"And who are you to decide that for her?" The man looks into her eyes, defiantly. Not knowing that he just signed his death sentence. Everyone present is looking at him now.

Yet you are as oblivious as ever.

"Oh good morning, Arle! Let me get the boxes. Hold on." You excuse yourself as you leave them for a couple of minutes. When you come back, however, the previously defiant young man has turned into a scared shell of himself with the social potency of a wet napkin. You don't know what Arle said to him. And maybe you don't want to find out.

He quickly fumbles out apologies to you and Arle as he runs off.

"Huh, why'd he leave? I thought he was gonna order?" She looks at you with a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Some people are just a bit eccentric."

Arle doesn't mind a little competition, but ones as pathetic as this one shouldn't even get the chance.

But Arlecchino is also a fair woman. So, for driving away a customer, she's given you a hefty tip for today's delivery. It's not like she wasn't planning on doing that already.

Its kind of short so im sorry about that but i really liked writing this one! Again thank you so much for the request!

[bomiten]

my favorite loser ⋆˙⟡

#%! oneshot (1,837 words) #%! tokuno yushi x gn!reader

requested by ༘⋆ anonymous

synopsis .ᐟ what's your loser classmate doing with the ball on the field? huh. maybe being forced to watch your brother's game wasn't such a terrible idea after all.

content warnings .ᐟ minor profanity, strangers to lovers, massive loser yushi, silly mean reader, consensual (?) bullying, is it really strangers to lovers if one person has been crushing for years?

✄┈┈┈┈ january 01, 2025 – 9:43 am.

A whistle sound blares through the entire field, effectively waking you up from where you're seated at the bleachers. You’ve been idle there for nearly an hour and a half, irritation bubbling from your core. You could have had enough time to shower and change out of your pajamas if it weren't for your brother rushing you. He’s barely even late!

How did you end up at one of your brother’s games, you ask? Here's what happened exactly..

“y/n! get your ass ready, let's go!”

you groan loud enough for him to hear, you didn't even want to go to his game! and now you're being rushed, how annoying.

“I’m coming!” you yell back when, in fact, you were not coming down anytime soon. If he wants you to watch his game, he has to work for it.

thinking that your brother has left from the stillness of noise in the living room, it leaves you absolutely shocked out of your wits when he comes bursting through your bedroom door.

he charges at you and lifts you over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes, causing you to erupt in giggles. now you know to never underestimate a football player's strength!

“you need to get out the house y/n” he sing-songs, the grip on your legs never faltering no matter how much you thrash and wriggle out of his hold “I will go out! just not to watch you suck at football!”

your brother snickers, already out the door and nearing the car, “you’d be surprised how wrong you are, really” just as the car door flies open, he throws you inside and shuts it before walking to the drivers side “I’m not captain for nothing”

you sit up with a sigh, you already know he won't shut up about how much of an amazing player he is. to which– you agree, truthfully. you’d rather not let him know, though.

And that's your morning flashback. Thinking about it genuinely makes your head hurt, anger already simmering. Stay calm, positive thoughts.

Just as you finish calming yourself down, loud cheers erupt and soon enough, you spot your brother smugly walking to the center of the field, his teammates trailing behind just as smug as him. Proud smiles, puffed out chests– you could tell this is their thing, they're in their element.

In all realness, football does interest you. With the way your brother geeks out about it since you two were young, you can't help gaining the same fascination. So, being seated at the players area bleachers truly has you on your toes, making sure to fight every urge to keep your smile concealed.

Just before another round of yells explodes for the opposing team, your brother’s team jog to where you're seated, situating their things on a bleacher each, the coach giving you a kind smile as your brother high fives you. Deep down, you're just as pumped as him, and he knows that too.

You throw your brother an encouraging smile, and then look at the rest of his teammates to do the same. Until– what? Yushi? What’s that nerd doing here!

You two share the same shell-shocked expression, before yours turns into something inevitably evil. What a sight to see! Your favourite loser playing such an excruciating sport. Yushi pales, eyes shaking and mouth agape. No way you’re watching his game!

He's so, absolutely, cooked. He can’t possibly embarrass himself in front of you! Much to his luck, your brother smacks him on the back, snapping out of his fright, “yushi! You’re a starter, okay? Okay!” Really, he’ll just kill himself. But he guesses this way better than being benched and getting an earful from you.

He's not really sure what expression he’s making, but from the way you giggle behind your hand, he figues it’s pathetic.

✄┈┈┈┈ january 01, 2025 – 12:13 pm.

The team was at their final set, a good 20 point lead. Honestly, you haven’t paid much attention to your brother, eyes glued on yushi, who, surprisingly, has played so well. Better than what you expected, atleast. I mean, really, what’s there to expect from a loser like him?

you bite your finger, currently yushi has the ball, running across the field as he aims for the goal. The opposing team's player that's running alongside him is positively three times yushi’s size. He bumps into the man, effectively making the player fall and roll over. You can’t help but feel anxious, will he even make that goal?

The whistle blows and the crowd cheers, he does make the goal.

And, well, he also gets punched in the face. Um..

“yushi!” You hear one of their teammates yell, running over to him and helping him to his feet. The amount of blood flowing out his nose is quite concerning. You look around the field for your brother. Oh.

Before you could even react to him charging at the player that punched Yushi, he’d already tackle him down and the referees are already separating them. He really needs to control his temper. sigh.

enough of that, you immediately jump on your feet the moment yushi was nearing the bleachers. “You fucking idiot” you exclaim, flicking yushi’s forehead, his teammates laughing. So much for controlling tempers. Guess it runs in the blood.

“couldn’t you have dodged that? What are you a football player for if your reflexes are slow!” You continue to scold him, his eyes turning the slightest bit watery before casting them down, deciding his shoes are far more interesting to look at.

Before you were able to continue your reprimanding, you felt a heavy arm sling around your shoulder, making you snap your head to the body next to yours. The sight of your brother’s face makes you gasp, instantly throwing his arm off of you.

“You-!” You half gasp and half shout, you hand smacking him behind his head, making the team laugh. “You fucking dumbass! Look at your face!” Your brother only shrugs, leaving you to walk over and sit at your chair, chugging his water in one go.

The commotion makes Yushi look over at you, cotton stuffed on both his nostrils. Poor boy, he looks like a wet kitten. Eyes glistening and a pout on his lips. How kissable.

What? What.

Weird observation.. anyways! Just as you were about to grab your bag, their coach clapped his hands together, announcing “celebratory lunch! You-” he gestures at you, “included!”

Sighing, there's really no escaping this one.

You plop down on your seat with a breath the moment their coach ushered the team back in the locker rooms. To which makes you groan frustratedly, because your brother takes way too long in the showers.

Luckily enough, the team owned ball was left on the seat next to yours. Bingo! You hop on your feet and run, throwing the ball on the field, giggling at the feeling of the grass touching your toes through your socks and slides.

How long has it been since you last played?

Running and kicking the ball around the field had you so occupied, you hadn't noticed a figure watching you.

“Um.. I didn't know you played..”

The sudden voice makes you yelp, almost tripping on the ball. You whip your whole body to see none other than Yushi, “what the hell, yushi!”

He squeaks, almost as if he expected you to have an explosive reaction. “Sorry..”

What a wimp. You roll your eyes and bend down to pick the ball up, before jogging back in front of him. “Where's your teammates, dork?”

Yushi juts his bottom lip out ever so slightly, eyes casting down once again, “finished first than them..” he murmurs.

“What?” You quip, “can't you speak any louder than that?”

Yushi huffs, cheeks puffed and glowing a hue of pink, “I said I finished first, so they're still inside” you stare at his face, the flush on him really makes him look adorable.

“Weirdo” your brain to mouth filter must've been upside down. Didn't you just say he was adorable?

Whatever. He didn't need to know what you thought.

Thinking yushi had nothing better to say (or do, other than stare at ball in your arms), you turn your back and run back to the field, completely shocking you when you turn to face the goal and he’s right there.

You click your tongue, “if you wanted to play with me, you could've just said so” admittedly, you found it endearing how he follows you around like a lost puppy. However he didn't have to know that “no need to creep up behind me”

“Actually..” yushi starts, fingers fiddling with one another, “why are you here?” you tilt your head, were you not allowed to be here?

You hum, “to watch my brother. Why” you smile, a remark already at the tip of your tongue, “did you think I was here for you?”

Yushi looks at you, the look in his eyes unreadable, “yeah”

huh? huh.

“What?” what? Yushi sputters at the look on your face, eye wise and mouth agape. “I– uh– uhm..” words, yushi!

You try your best to fix your expression, letting yushi explain himself, “uh huh?”

Yushi looked around to make sure no one was around. Huffing, he shuts his eyes tight and leans forward, pecking your lips. The soft feeling of his lips came as soon as it left. What the hell.

A beat, two, three. And you're bursting out in giggles, “what was that? You didn't even hold me at least!” yushi flushes a deep color of red from his cheeks, to his ears, down to his neck, his hands balled in a fist. He’s such a loser. So cute.

“I–” yushi yelps, head ducking down, “I thought you came to watch me” he whispers. It makes you laugh wholeheartedly, “so you kissed me?” Yushi whips his head up so fast it makes you worried for his neck, “no!”

“Then what is it, loser?” Yushi quirk your brow, his whole body flinching when you held his hand to drag you with him on the grass, sitting crisscrossed, “we’re not leaving here until you tell me”

yushi sits on his knees, hands balled on his lap, “I like you” he murmurs, “huh?” you tease, hearing him loud and clear from how close he’s sitting next to you. Yushi groans, an accusing finger pointed at you, “you heard me!”

He’s so endearing. “Okay, okay! Sorry!” You laugh, hand on his wrist, his skin steaming hot from embarrassment, “I heard you, loser”

yushi slumps on himself, “still loser?” there he goes again with wet kitten look, how could you possibly resist that? “Mhm,” you hum, dragging yushi down with you as you lay on the (dirty) grass. You turn to face him, slightly surprised that he’s already looking at you.

You smile, the kind that reaches your eyes, “my favourite loser” maybe coming to your brother’s game wasn’t so bad.

eek! yushi one shot with a new writing style, what do yew guys think? 😓 anyways riku smau update soon as a welcome back celebration yippee!

© bomiten 2025 - all rights reserved. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or share my work on other platforms. thank you.

[chvoswxtch]

I still haven’t emotionally processed episode four and I probably never will but if you’re interested in my chaotic ramblings pls step into my office below

first of all frank waited ten fucking years to get his lick back he is the pettiest bitch alive and I am here for it 

he said bitch I didn’t forget when you said “boo hoo who’d you lose” reverse uno altar boy 

“how bout old foggy, he get life?”

FRANCIS DAVID CASTIGLIONE HOW DARE YOU 

also the fucking hand clapping while saying I don’t have time for your candy ass hero shit he’s so fucking sassy pls 

the juxtaposition between wanting to cream seeing our boys back together onscreen but also wanting to scream bc that whole interaction was so raw and brutal and wrecked me and not in the slutty way like I wanted

I wanna talk about how matt either knew where frank was this entire time or he knows frank’s heartbeat and scent and tracked him there which is stupid romantic 

I don’t wanna talk about how frank didn’t even raise his hands to defend himself and would’ve let matt keep hitting him 

I don’t want to talk about matt’s whole monologue about foggy bc I will never emotionally recover from that

I do want to talk about how 3 different people kept emphasizing to matt that the system is broken and does not work that was definitely not a coincidence 

I do want to talk about matt being a slut and flirting to reduce a prison sentence 

also the end?? adam screaming “let me out” while matt is on the roof with his billy club after trying to not let the devil out for 4 episodes??? the fucking parallels my GOD

each fucking episode just keeps getting better and better 

honorable mention fisk nearly crashing out having to sit though 2 choir performances had me HOLLERING

I also want to do a lil check in since we only have five episodes left of this half of this season-

I have seen a lot of people say this matt feels “out of character” and I think that’s the point. it’s supposed to be uncomfortable. there���s a lot of underlying tension in this season, it feels like something is building and we’re all waiting for the eruption. this is not the matt we saw in the original series. we will probably never get that matt back. this is season 3 matt but like times ten. he said he would rather die as the devil than live as matt murdock and he definitely “died” the night foggy was killed, in his daredevil suit on that roof. he also pushed dex off the roof, and although dex didn’t die so it wasn’t murder, matt still attempted to kill him, which still counts as crossing a line in his own head

matt is not living, he’s existing. he is a hollow shell of who he used to be. he lost everything that made him who he was

foggy, his best friend and moral compass. karen, his other best friend and voice of reason. he lost the two people who were essentially the only family he had left in the world. he lost his home, he told fisk he doesn’t go back to hell’s kitchen and doesn’t live there anymore. he lost his faith, he’s not going to church anymore. and he lost daredevil, his outlet to let his darker half out that made him feel like he was making a difference. this man is lost

the term “born again” is usually used to describe a religious transformation. I don’t think calling the show born again was just about matt returning as daredevil. I think it’s us seeing matt at his absolute lowest, hitting rock bottom, losing every sense of who he is, and then watching him rise from the ashes

I truly thought hector being murdered was gonna make matt lose his shit but now I’m very curious what’s going to make him actually snap and put the suit back on. I think the main reason he's fighting it so hard is to honor foggy's memory. foggy's last words to him were "I didn't want to give you a reason". foggy always wanted matt to put his faith in the system and do things the "right" way and matt is trying to do that but he's clearly struggling, because he has no faith in anything anymore

I have a lot of ideas about what I think is going to happen this season but I’d love to hear what y’all think so feel free to ramble with me or just scream or cry we can do that too

[shineon3]

hi sarah! for the situations ask game

22 + 43 maxiel 👀

From here.

Hi tysh!! This was fun to write tbh ^^ so here's some Fake dating + Truth or dare maxiel for you ❤️

“Okay, yall, we’re playing truth or dare!”

Max winces, his groan drowned in the sea of cheers that erupt in the room. Trust Charles for wanting to play stupid drinking games.

Next to him, Daniel laughs, loud and unrestrained, like he always gets as soon as he’s just a little bit tipsy. 

Max watches the first rounds play out, thankfully being spared by the spinning bottle sitting in the middle of the table. He watches Franco awkwardly flirt with Lewis for a dare, cringes when Alex has to spill the beans about the infamous throat infection incident while George tries to get the earth to swallow him whole.

And then, just as he got comfortable being a spectator, the world sends him the biggest ‘fuck you’ ever uttered. 

“So, Max. Truth or dare, hm?”

There’s a dangerous glint in Charles’ eyes, and he swallows, throat clicking a bit too loudly. 

“Uh, truth, I guess?”

Charles’ smile widens, almost shark-like. Around them, the whole table falls silent.

“How did you and Daniel start dating?”

Max wonders if he can escape this if he slams his head hard enough against the table.

See, the thing is, Max and Daniel aren’t dating. Not really. It’s just that, at the beginning of the season, Charles, the paddock’s biggest gossip, had caught them sleeping in the same bed, something they did whenever one of them ended up being too tired after hanging out, and had drawn his own conclusions. Neither Max nor Daniel had denied it, thinking that Charles was just teasing them, but the Monegasque had spilled the beans to the whole grid, who now also believes they're dating. 

Daniel had laughed when he found out, and then shrugged.

“They’ll understand their mistake sooner or later, I reckon. It’s not like we’re actually dating, Maxy, right?”

It just had to come back and bite their asses.

Of course.

Max should have known.

“We’re- Charles, we’re not dating.”

“Don’t lie, Max, I saw you. Daniel was practically naked in your bed!”

Fuck. Daniel had been practically naked in his bed. But that’s only because he’s used to sleeping in his boxers! It’s not weird! 

Right?

Something tickles the shell of his ears, making him shiver. 

“Go on, Maxy. Be a good boy and tell ‘em how we started dating, hm? Or should I do that for you, darling?”

Daniel’s deep, crooning voice rumbles right against his ear, and Max can feel himself flush. The brunette’s arms wrap around his waist, under the cover of the table, playing with the hem of his shirt. Fuck. How could Max forget how touchy Daniel gets when drunk?

“I suppose it is acceptable, if you’re the one to tell us,” Charles' smile is somehow even wider. Max will be getting new, better friends, after this. “Spill the beans, Daniel.”

And Daniel does. He tells an elaborated story about the start of their supposed relationship, where he “seduces Max with his wild looks and gentleman manners”, whatever that might mean. Max doesn’t fully pay attention to it, especially when Daniel’s hands shift lower, dangerously close to where Max has been half hard for a while, the older’s curious hands roaming around his midsection coupled with the way Daniel spoke to him just a minute ago enough to rile him up. 

Okay, so. Max might have a tiny, itty bitty insignificant crush on his best friend. Might. He can’t help it if Daniel insists on looking like sex on legs whenever he wears clothes, if Daniel constantly crashes his bed because he “sleeps better on it”, if Daniel always invites him out for dinner, if-

“ - but if you’ll excuse us, I think Maxy and I have some things to do. Adios, losers.”

Max tunes back in just in time to get up when Daniel tugs at his arms, a big grin almost spreading his face in half. The brunette drags him out of the club and into a cab, tucking himself as close as physically possible to Max.

“We’re going back to my room, and unless you’re against it, I’m going to take my sweet time fucking you. Capiche?”

Max has never said yes to anything this fast. 

[koisuko]

Reader with an OF, but for mw husbands

*blush*

Tw: OF stuff, mdni, gn reader, OF is only fans for those confused, no use of y/n

Ft: Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John Price

Simon “Ghost” Riley…

Is against it, 100%. This man has killed, blood on his hands in the name of war. He would be damned if he shared you with anyone. He’s possessive, broken and maybe a little insecure on the inside. He doesn’t want others even having the chance to look at you.

He’s definitely punishing you. He’d have your face buried into the bed, back arched so much it’s almost painful. His fingers gripping on a handful of your hair, tugging back to force your half lidded gaze up towards the ceiling. Ghost would watch from behind his skull mask. His deep brown eyes, burning with fury, stare into the screen of your phone. “Delete it,” he’d demand, “I want to see you do it.” He’d feel your walls clench around him, only to stop his thrusts abruptly. “I said,” his masked face lowered down to the shell of your ear, “delete it.” Any sign of hesitation would earn a swift spank to your backside. Youd whimper, tears of overstimulation prick at the corner of your eyes. Your shaky fingers would hit the delete button. Ghost would rub soothing circles over the now reddening skin of your ass, “good job, pet,” he’d praise.

Before you even ask, no, he’s not joining. No matter what you said or do, it’s a definite no. This man thrives in the mystery he creates around his identity. Plus, doing lewd acts for the pleasure of others seems so pointless in his mind.

John “Soap” MacTavish…

Is not against it, but not for it either. He’s a bit torn between whether he likes it, and whether he wants to be possessive. He definitely wouldn’t be as strict as Ghost. He’s more lenient about the idea of you doing only fans. If it’s something that pleases you, than go for it.

Yes, with enough convincing, he would join you. He’d even put his face in it, this man would probably smirk at the camera. He’d like to take some photos for you. Have you pose in the perfect positions, barely able to contain himself. Than after, he’d rip that lace covering your body and ravage you for hours.

Eventually though, you’d come across his insecurities in having you do this. He’s supportive sure, but he doesn’t entirely like the idea of having something so private shared with strangers. You’d sit down and have a talk, figure out what you two would like to do going forword. Eventually agreeing on leaving the app entirely.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick…

Is against it, lightly. He wants you to himself, and prefers if your body is kept private for just the two of you. He wants to worship your beauty, without the prying eyes of strangers. He’d support you, of course, if you truly only want this as a career. But he wouldn’t seem to want to stay if you aren’t willing to compromise.

No, he’s not joining you, at all. He won’t be the camera man either. Just the thought of it, you posed in lewd positions and sharing it to your subscribers, makes his skin crawl. His lips would form a frown, and he’d avoid the situation entirely. His mind would run wild with insecurities. He’d wonder why he isn’t good enough, and why you’d prefer others attention over his.

You love him, of course, so you’d delete it entirely. And to make up for it, you’d wear the lingerie. You’d pose for him, let him take photos for private moments at the base. A wild night sure to come shortly after.

John Price…

Is neutral on it. He doesn’t mind what you do for work, a paycheck is a paycheck. If you were to tell him how much money you make, his eyes would go wide with surprise. “Might need to make one of my own,” he’d jokingly say.

He’d be intrigued by the app when you’d explain how it works. He’d even offer a strategy to rack in more subscribers and money. If you are happy, so is he.

Yes, he’d join, but only on occasion. Even when he does, it’s only parts of him in the camera. He avoids showing his face entirely. He prefers to watch from the sidelines, smirking at your pretty little poses. When he does join, it’s mostly his lower body, his chest is preferred. He loves the photos of you sat, his cock sunken inside you, and your fingers tangled in the hairs of his chest. Or the photos from his angle, your face red and lips glossy while you fuck yourself on his tip.