#how do i even write smut

[puptrefied]

Hi! Do you take requests?

If so, I think a fic bases on this excerpt:

"she can't have her parents walking in again. poor cassandra…finding your daughter with her whole face buried in between a girl's thighs is not the most ideal situation"

of your cailtyn story would be phenomenal 🙏

If you don't, feel free to ignore this! :)

　let's start by saying caitlyn knows how to eat pussy and loves doing it :3 babe could have it for breakfast, lunch, dinner and even dessert. she wouldn't call herself an expert per se, but she's quite proud of her talent.

sure, receiving it feels good—but what's better than knowing you're making a girl cum with just your mouth? to cait, absolutely nothing. the moans, the hair-pulling, the thighs clenching against her head ♡ ugh chef's kiss.

( she came untouched a few times from it but you did not hear it from me ok? )

it's usually one the first things she does when you successfully sneak into her room. like a reward for getting through massive place she calls home without anyone noticing.

your back against the bed and legs immediately spread to expose the sight she absolutely adores. god, she could just stare at it forever and it'd still have the same effect in between her own legs. new panties are needed.

she doesn't dive in face-first like an animal the second your clothes are off, even if she does feel like a starved woman. she starts by slowly kissing your thighs and caressing any bit of skin she can, hand sneaking up your abdomen and ribs to massage your breasts a little—don't mind it.

“should I continue?” cocky because she already knows the answer is a breathy ‘yes, please’.

oh and she gets way more cocky once she finally starts working on you, soft and slow stripes and twirls with her tongue. nothing fancy yet; she wants to tease a little more.

the second your hips start bucking into her mouth though? girl, grab onto something because she takes the signs IMMEDIATELY.

legs propped up on her shoulder while her hands hold your hips down to keep control of them. the slurping sounds are almost pornographic with how sloppy she's being. no whine coming from you is gonna make her stop any time soon. she's enjoying it waaaay to much already.

if she's feeling nice she will add a finger or two while sucking ๋࣭⭑ curling them just right inside you, not in-and-out like crazy. her tongue’s already lapping at you pretty fast so no need to overwhelm you…yet.

she wishes you would look down at her for a sec to see that pretty expression better, but she also understands it's her own fault that your head is thrown back against the bed, clenching around her fingers while pulling at her hair. what a curse to be so good at pleasing girls.

she knew speeding up her movements wasn't a smart thing to do so late at night as soon as the loud whine that escaped your lips reached her ears. obviously louder than the previous ones.

the heavy thump on the door when it opened proved her right.

“caitlyn.”

of course it had to be her mother out of all people.

cassandra's eyebrows furrowed as she looked away with a small huff, trying to erase the sight from her mind by blinking and observing every detail on the window. she thought caitlyn was trying to sneak out and get involved with stuff she shouldn't like she had done in the past with serious cases or something, not this!

“It is 3 am; please take your… friend out of here.” a dismissive wave of her hand showed that there wasn't much room for arguing—none really because she's already out the door with a low mumble to herself before her daughter could say anything. tomorrow's talk is gonna be awful, that's for sure.

“just keep quiet some more, then you can go home, alright?” the blue haired girl softly whispered, leaning up and kissing the soft skin on your shoulder to reassure that you're not leaving until you get a few well deserved orgasms, her fingers already going back to rubbing small circles.

she's not gonna let a pretty girl leave her bedroom unsatisfied even if it means getting caught again.

masterlist

[tojisun]

simon “i cant do one-night stands because i catch feelings” riley but it’s in an obsessive way.

he realizes how your bodies are so compatible with each other that he begins to track you down to ‘accidentally’ bump into you. but this only ever happens on very specific days—days when fucking sort of becomes the natural next thing to do and who else could be the best option for you when simon, the man who made you cum more than three times within the short hours you two were together, was right there?

and you’re not foolish enough to deny yourself of the razing euphoria that only he could give to you—your bodies locking together, his hand a steady weight on the back of your neck, the other bruising as it gripped your hip, and his cock slammed so far in you that you swear he was hitting places you never knew were your pleasure points—so of course you would choose him. you miss him, after all.

(you miss the way he made you beg. the way he made you cry. he was so perfect. so gentle and kind. but he was also so mean. so dominating and overwhelming.

he was all you ever needed—someone to fuck you right.)

“one more round, yeah?” simon croons, chest heaving as he catches his breath.

your walls clamp down on him at hearing his words, before a garbled whine trickles from your kiss-swollen lips. he watches as your head shuffles against the pillows with your abrupt nods, further muffling your gasped out mewls.

simon giggles, his lips pulled into a grin that is a bite too mean.

seems like he’s fucked you stupid again, huh?

[choccy-milky]

seb and clora working on baby #1 👶 🔞🔞!! NSFW !!🔞🔞

[poipiku]

[twitter]

[rawbin-hsr]

Aventurine x Reader

You treat Aventurine with more respect than he deserves.

Read part 2 here !

Only barely proof-read, guaranteed to have lots of grammatical errors, English is not my first language and I am experimenting with my writing style <3

CW: smut, handjob (Aventurine receiving), dehumanisation (internal, thoughts Aventurine has of himself, referring to himself as a “monster”), feelings of inadequacy, hurt/very little comfort, crying, mentions of death, at some points this seems like dubcon because Aventurine speaks of feeling “dread”, but it’s NEVER intended to be read as him not wanting to receive touch from reader, it is meant to convey how little he thinks he deserves this. The smut is soft and gentle, but Aventurine’s internal thoughts definitely are not <3

Lmk if there’s anything else I should warn about !!

18+, minors will be blocked <3

Your touch is so kind. Soft and gentle, as if he is made of the finest porcelain, as if he is a fragile flower, as if he is delicate. It is cruel, he thinks, that he has made you think he is any less than a monster. It is cruel that he hasn’t pushed you away, when he knows he will devour you. It has become part of his nature.

But how can he push you away when you are so persistent? How can he push you away when you roll with his punches, when you go along with each and every one of his pushes and pulls? It is hard to keep you out when you insistently pry your way into what’s left of his soul, when you gaze upon the rotten corpse that he is and still claim him to be beautiful. He thinks you must be blind at best and naive at worst.

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper reverently, and though Aventurine knows his body is, he also knows that is not the part of him you’re referring to. Not when your hand rests on his chest, above the empty cavern where his heart is meant to be.

You kiss his neck and he shivers. There’s a pit in his stomach, knotting his insides with dread.

He should tell you to stop, should warn you that he’s deceiving you, that he’s not the person you think he is. Should show you that he is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, that he is a bad omen. But he can’t bring himself to. Not when being with you feels so good, not when he’s self-indulgent to a fault, and he can’t help himself with you. He is the worst mistake you could ever make, in part because he can’t even stop from letting you continue to make it.

His hands rest on the back of your neck, fingers tangled in your hair. It is unfair how good your touch feels, his back arching just from mere caresses upon his skin. You play him like he’s an instrument you’ve practiced for years, despite never having fucked him before. He digs his heels into your back as your hand wraps around his dick, and he whines into your shoulder when you lovingly stroke it.

“I love you,” you murmur as he pulls on your hair, as his nails dig into your skin, and he wants to cry. He will destroy you from the inside out, he knows, or maybe he will kill you before he gets the chance to. He can never keep the things he loves alive.

Your lips kiss his skin, and he moans brokenly as your thumb glides over the head of his cock, pushing down on the tip. His hips rock up to meet your hand, and he feels ashamed of how blatantly he allows himself to enjoy you, how blatantly he allows himself to use you. You deserve so much better, but you are the best thing that he has ever managed to get his bloodstained hands on, and so he can’t help himself. He wants you to remain unaware of how much better you could do. He wants you to stubbornly remain by his side even when he makes it hard for you to do so. He wants to bare every part of his being to you so you can see how little worth he is to you. He wants you to run from him before it’s too late.

But part of him knows he already has shown you himself, that you’ve seen who he is and you still love him. You must be stupid.

“Use me,” he begs you, wishing you’d do something with him to alleviate the guilt he feels, so it would at least be mutual. His hands cling to you, and he whimpers pathetically when you lean back to look down at him. “Use me, please. Please…”

And your eyes are so kind. Your eyes are so sweet and soft and human, and everything he is not.

“Shh,” you hush him, tenderly pressing a kiss to his lips. He sobs, feeling embarrassing tears fill his eyes as you press closer to him, the touch so caring and innocent yet so lewd as your hand tugs at him. “Just let me make you feel good, okay?”

And you do. You always keep true to your words, unlike him. It’s barely a minute later that his breath hitches and he keens, nearly wailing into your neck as he comes undone under your too loving hands. It’s obscene, and he feels filthy as his semen paints your hand and splatters on his lower stomach. He has soiled your perfect skin, has dirtied your perfect body. He hopes you will let go of him and wash yourself up, then leave him here, broken on the bed in the mess he’s created. That you will leave him to pick up the pieces of himself he has left. He is undeserving of you.

And yet he only feels your love swaddle him when his body relaxes, adoring praises and sweet words tumbling from your perfect lips as your perfect hands gently stroke his body, soothing him as if he is deserving. Your perfect body presses closer to him, no doubt getting his mess on your perfect abdomen as you almost lay yourself flat on him. You pepper perfect kisses all over his face, and he realises belatedly he’s crying. For the first time in ten years. Fat tears rolling down his cheeks, and he doesn’t know for what reason.

But you seem like you do know. You look so understanding, wiping his tears with an achingly kind, perhaps slightly sad smile, and you don’t ask him why.

“I’ve got you now, it’s okay,” you say instead. And you do, because you always keep true to your word.

And he is selfish, because he doesn’t stop you. He lets you clean him up, lets you kiss his tears away, lets you take care of him. Lets you climb into bed with him afterwards, unaware that you have brought the monster under your bed up into your loving arms. He hasn’t felt so much love since he was nine.

And he is selfish, because even though he can already feel his claws dig into your flesh as he holds you in return, he cannot bring himself to pull away. He can only hope he won’t dig in his heels when you eventually see reason and try to leave. He can only hope you will have the time to get away before he kills you.

---------------------------------------------------------

My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3

[magpiepills]

Another Kind of Hunger

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Joel Miller x hot 20 year old

Word count: 230

Summary: Joel is a dirty talker

Warnings: I don’t even know what to say. Writer Typist has a fever.

A word from the author: Jesus Christ.

“You want this beefaroni baby? Want me to stuff my big meaty noodle in your little ravioli until you sauce all over me?”

Joel’s hips moved faster, encouraged by her slick squelching sounds and warm, willing hole.

“You’re so juicy. You wanted this beefaroni didn’t you? So hot for me.”

Joel’s boots slipped against the soft earth as he bucked his hips wildly, jeans around his knees, steadying himself against his truck. He grunted and tipped his head back, bouncing his thick, graying curls in the silvery moonlight.

Screech owls in the distant treetops didn’t stop his determined rutting.

“Gettin so close, baby. Where do ya want it? Inside? You want to get filled up like a dirty girl?”

Joel’s fists flexed and the coil in his belly grew tighter as he approached his release.

“Tightest little ravioli I ever had. Look at ya, you got me covered. You love gettin my big beefaroni.”

He sneered and his leg twitched and his orgasm wracked his body. White heat seared behind his eyes and he spilled his thick load, cock rammed deep into the tight little 20 year old can of Chef Boyardee ravioli,

The lonesome man used a rumpled t shirt, borrowed from Bill’s supplies to clean the sauce and semen from his groin, licking an errant drop from his hand.

Joel would once again go to bed hungry, but not unsatisfied, finally able to sleep.

@for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot @gasolinerainbowpuddles

[kindofatheatrekid]

Soft Yandere! Veteran HCs (and a special something at the end!)

So I basically fell in love with this nameless man I wrote on a whim- And now I’m giving the dude a name now- My precious moot helped me to cement his identity as a jaded, Russian veteran and I obviously leaped at the chance of making an old dilf. I fucking love this man- 😀

This is definitely NSFW so…

MINORS DNI. MINORS DNI. MINORS DNI.

That’s better! ❤���

Soft Yandere! Veteran who’s at least twenty-five years your senior— and makes sure that you remember that. He’ll make sure that any bratty attitude coming from you will be promptly shut down. Whether it’ll be through a spanking session or giving your mouth something better to do… Well. It depends on how much you’ve pissed him off already. ^^

(Don’t worry, though. He’s too much of a softie to not ensure that you’ll enjoy every second of your “punishment~” 😮‍💨)

“In my days, cadets used to have their teeth smashed in if they mouthed off to their superiors. Shouldn’t you thank me for my leniency, love?”

Soft Yandere! Veteran who makes sure that you’re always well fed. He may have some food insecurity problems, and would never want his beloved to ever experience that gnawing hunger he felt in his earlier years. So say au revoir to any diets you want to do!

He’s a good cook too, so you bet he’s going to feed you every time you see each other. You’re always going to be greeted with food as aftercare— there’s no arguing on that. He will force-feed you. 😓

“A diet? Tch. You don’t need that. Just eat, dear. You need the nutrients for later.”

Speaking of aftercare! Soft Yandere! Veteran who knows exactly what to do after years of fucking women. …And maybe some men but we don’t talk about his soldier years- The man will wipe you down and massage every part of your body that aches after his rough treatment. Believe in the old man who has chronic pain every day because of what he did in his youth- He definitely knows how to relieve any muscle aches. 😌

Soft Yandere! Veteran who is a huge cuddler. He’s taller than you and is just a brickhouse— you’re not going anywhere if he wants to cuddle with you. He probably has a size kink, loves seeing you try to fit him in your mouth. He’ll be so condescending about it too, goading you on while he’s reading the newspaper like the senile man he is. 😩

“Come on, love~ Is that really the best you can do? You can take a bit more, right? For me~?”

Soft Yandere! Veteran who is Russian! The man never speaks crass words, though— always a gentleman through and through. His mama taught him right! He has to make sure that you remember your manners with him too! Say please and then he might give you what you want. It depends, though. Have you been a polite lover to him today? 🤔

“Mmm… I don’t know, Солнце… You’ve been so naughty today. I think you should beg some more for my cock~”

Soft Yandere! Veteran who has episodes of depression whenever he remembers the young men he killed in the battlefield. You can find him on the floor while staring at his countless medals— bottles of everclear on the floor with a few cigar buds in the ashtray nearby. A hug from you will help him a lot…

(Please replace the bitter cigar in his mouth with your sweet lips. Give him something else to think about. Better yet, why don’t you spread those thighs of yours? That will always get the old man going! 😊)

“...Thank you, лапочка. I needed this.”

Soft Yandere! Veteran who will never let you go. You’re just too pure for the world… He’s directly seen how dirty humans can be. You’re like a spring breeze to him, allowing him to relax his mind for the first time since he was drafted. Just listen to everything he says. Don’t you believe in him? 🥺

“...People… They can be cruel. Especially to wounded rabbits like you.”

You didn’t think that I’d just make headcanons after painting a scene in your head, right? Dear gods no! I want to be a nice author to you all! (At least until my mind decides to switch up and make angst- But you’re all safe! For now.) 😈

Anyways! I’m going to show y’all a blowjob scene with this old man now! Have fun! ^^

(It’s gender neutral this time because you’re sucking his dick-)

You thought he was being too cruel right now. Here you were: on your knees, serving the man while he was enjoying his morning cup of coffee. If you could talk, you would’ve whined at him for his attention; to get that dumb paper out of the way so he could fuck your mouth like you knew he could. He was undoubtedly affected by the way your lips were wrapped around not even half of his cock, though. There was a reason why his hand had a firm grip on your hair— not allowing you to pull away nor go deeper.

The old man had way too much patience compared to you, not even budging when you start to paw at his clothed thighs. He’s spent years on the battlefield, dear. The man can neglect his own needs as long as you learn your lesson. Your parents must have not taught you very well, but that’s fine! He can show you exactly how to stay in the lines.

Your desperate whimpers send shivers down his spine, the vibrations making his warm cock grow hotter— a familiar warmth pooling underneath his stomach. His hand tightens around your locks, a deep sigh escaping from his lips before he even knew it. You got what you wanted, his attention. And oh… You have his full attention.

A low growl was your only warning before he forced his cock down your throat— his hands now occupied with pulling your hair like it were a horse’s reins. You couldn’t breathe; he was big, and he knew that. You could barely see his sly grin through your tears, but you could feel it. By the way his hand was kept on the back of your head to keep your spit-covered lips on his cock. By the way his other hand was patting the top of your head so affectionately. By the way he cooed at you like he wasn’t choking you on his dick right now.

“Aww~ Is there something you want to say, Солнце? Come on~ Use your words for me, hm?”

The bastard was taking pleasure in your helplessness; he knew that your throat was far too occupied to do anything but let out a few muffled whimpers. Whimpers that went straight down to his weeping cock, his balls tightening even more when he sees how prettily you were silently begging for his mercy. The old man was just getting his rocks off at this point.

He kept on using you, bobbing your head over and over again— he was an old soldier, he knew precisely how long he could keep you gagging before you’d pass out. It was like a game to him in a way, seeing how far he could physically push you before you were on the brink of passing out. You were seeing both stars in your eyes and black spots; your adrenaline peaking from this deadly game. One where all you could do was trust the man in front of you that he knew what he was doing.

His endurance was no joke even after over a decade, you didn’t know how long it was before you could finally taste something bitter on your tongue— his head tilting up as he groaned. You were still gagging, your head pushed as far as possible when he came in your throat. The thick, slimy liquid going down your throat effortlessly as he slowly slides you off his limp dick. A round of coughs greeting you after your lungs were suddenly filled with oxygen after a while with barely any.

All he did was pat your head, grabbing a cloth from the table to clean up the mixture of his cum and your drool and tears off your face. His palms tenderly cupping your cheeks afterward— steadily lifting your face up before he presses a soft kiss on your now clean lips. A satisfied smile curving up his lips when he sees your blissed out, lost expression; your usual bratty self not seen at all.

“Hm… Better.”

Translation:

Солнце = sunshine

лапочка = sweetie pie / cutie

BRO. THIS. THIS DOES THINGS TO ME. Y'ALL LIKE THIS OLD MAN TOO, HUH??

"I know what you are."

[nenoname]

stan twins the canon cptsd brothers i will always think about all your unaddressed issues that would make perfect plot fuel for your spinoff

and also the whole 'stan getting that poem by bill via a website which contrasts with bill getting one from the axolotl via a website' foreshadowing thing

like idk i would love something like su future but like more optimistic, aka not an accumulated breakdown that has to be mostly resolved off screen at the end :/// but something thats being kinda addressed throughout? (although would love to see one of them turn into a monster thats always fun lol)

stan having severe issues from his dad and those years of being homeless that we keep on getting more info on but never really getting confronted on (the drifter catalogue and tijuana incident...), him being completely alone for like twenty years when running the shack before soos comes along to the point that 1998 is noted as his low point, and him not really learning about bill+what he did to ford until ages after he killed him if he ever did get the full context

while i think amnesia and everyone seeing him as a hero actually helped with stan's 'i'm a worse version of my brother' thing its still a lingering issue too and we now got him being insecure over his own hands

ford being immediately thrown from 'being tortured by bill' to 'being stuck in the multiverse and being chased by bounty hunters constantly', him fully expecting himself to die when destroying bill, and him only now being safe for the first time in 30 years ....relatively safe, he's still in constant danger because of course he is

idk in the end the series wants them to be happy and they deserve it, its why i wasn't too worried about the book being like 'ooh bill is back!! and the book is haunting ford' thing cos i knew they'll be ok

[arrowheadedbitch]

You know what? Fuck it, I need a side gig.

DM me for writing commissions. I *will* write your blorbos. I won't post it anywhere it'll just be your own personal writing to do with what you will.

I'll write fucking anything, man, my bank account is mad at me and I need to console it somehow. Just dm me, and if it's something I'm not comfortable writing, I'll politely decline.

I can write DC, I can write Librarians, I can write fucking anything man, I'll write your OCs if you want that, I'll even fucking draw a picture to go with it for a few bucks extra, why the hell not. I'll even write things that ARENT about blorbos! DM ME PLEASE

WRITING COMMISSIONS OPEN, GUYS

[iamtired10]

How do all 5 newjeans members also hyein fucks you

OUR FANDOM IS SO COOKED!

it's honestly getting worse every day and im just over it. like seriously how hard is it to have some common decency? i mean okay, if someone wants to request smut or anything like that, sure that's on them (though even then, people should respect boundaries) but asking for stuff about hyein? I MEAN EXCUSE ME!?

she's literally 16 fucking-years-old!

how are people even thinking that’s okay? like what? i see her as a little sister and that’s just so disturbing.

and let me tell you, ive seen worse.

some of these anons are just next level gross.

i genuinely hope they’re trolling because what was requested?

it’s not just uncomfortable—it’s SICK.

and it makes me lose faith in people seriously. there’s a line and some of y’all have just jumped over it without a second thought.

we really need to do better guys

good night (now i can't even sleep all night, tysm for that)

[wickjump]

im gonna start posting fanfic recs btw whenever i find good ones. both here and my (awfully barren) 18+ account. because there are so many good fics out there with so few hits and fewer kudos and sometimes no comments period and it SUCKS because i REALLY LIKE THEM A LOT.. and i hope that by linking them here and yelling at everyone to COMMENT DAMMIT they might actually do it

seriously though any comment means a lot. most people who read a fic don’t even give a kudos. even if the fic wasn’t top tier, if you didn’t dislike it, hand over some kudos!! and if you liked it, comment!!!! even if the comment is one singular heart emoji it will be appreciated. if the comment just says “great fic!” the author will be happy. your comment doesn’t have to be this long winded gushing or analysis.

so many authors quit writing or lose motivation because the comments are few and far in between or just sometimes nonexistent. trust me when i say authors don’t care about how long or cool or smart sounding your comment is i promise!!!

i hope that mmmaybe recommending fics and telling people to comment might help fics i really like get more support maybe. and i, points at you reading this, hope that you will listen!!!at least a little….at least sum kudos….

[ninyard]

hello I would like the kevallison smut ?? Please

The promised kevallison headcanons (aka how the two of them figure out what the other person is into + how they might go about doing it)

When they start hooking up it’s all pretty standard stuff. Allison gets him off after a game. Kevin eats her out if there’s ten minutes free in between classes and an empty dorm room. They’re a booty call before, during or after a night out, or a no-strings-attached way to get some frustration off their chest. Their friends-with-benefits situation is more often than not just a quick fuck when they’re bored. But it's kind of just… that? It's just fucking. It's a handful of different positions, in a handful of different places, but nothing more than fucking, finishing, and leaving. They don’t feel a need to bring it any further though, in some ways hesitant that the other will catch feelings if it gets too intimate. But from the get-go their agreement is clear - if either starts to get attached, or jealous, or even thinks that it might be worth pursuing, they stop. It doesn’t happen, of course, but in the beginning they really try to err on the side of caution until they know that for certain.

There’s one of two ways that their casual hook ups becomes more... interesting every now and again: one) accidentally. two) intentionally.

If it is accidental, I think they stumble upon the other’s kinks by the Grace of God. It's a quick fuck that turns into something more because one of them picks up on how the other's demeanor changes and they realise oh. oh. That did something for them. The moment when it happens is so intoxicating and sexually charged; So intense at the realisation of how turned on the other person is, that they’re just waiting for someone in the dorm room over, or outside the bathroom at a party, or in the almost-empty parking lot to ask did anyone hear Allison and Kevin fucking last night? For either of them, single and used to quick fucks with strangers that don't mean anything nor have the longevity for experimenting with, getting to dip into their fantasies is unparalleled pleasure.

If it’s accidental, it’s a pleasant surprise for them both, and Kevin and Allison have that in common - they are both incredibly, heavily turned on by their fuck-buddies feeling satisfied. It happens, where sometimes Kevin just wants to be blown without returning the gesture, or where Allison wants to come without having to put in the effort it takes to give back. More often than not, though, whether it be with each other or with other people, they're most satisfied when the other person is satisfied, too. So when the topic of kinks and turn ons is broached, or accidentally revealed, it doesn't matter that it's Kevin, or that it's Allison. When they've been fucking for long enough that they find themselves discovering these things, they're comfortable enough with each other to not feel embarrassed about what happens when they have sex. If it makes her wet, and it keeps him hard, then it doesn't matter. They don't talk about their sex lives outside of when or where it happens - a kink or two isn't going to change that.

For Kevin, sweet submissive baby boy who just lives to be praised - oh, when Allison finds out, it opens this door for changing their dynamics that she hadn't even realised existed. Kevin gets so turned on that he practically melts, and Allison eats it up like it's the hottest thing she's ever laid eyes on.

They've found themselves standing up against a wall in a bathroom at a party somewhere, too many suggestive looks across the room leading to a desperately desired handjob or two, and Kevin is fumbling with the buckle of his belt. He struggles with it for a second, before pulling the black leather out from it's square frame and Allison offhandedly says good job with a laugh as she trails kisses up his neck and her fingers down his stomach. She feels his reaction to her words before she notices how his eyes glaze over with the thoughts in his head; how he stills at her words, how he's yearning through his sigh when she follows with a knowing whisper of oh, you want me to tell you how good you're being?

Him in her hand, the long acrylic nails of her free hand dragging lines down his neck, Allison feels how needy he is and softly purrs in his ear to tell her how much he wants it. It's not lost on him how she plays with him like putty between her tender fingers, but still he looks into her eyes with his eyebrows knitted into each other, too close to argue; The please that escapes his lips trapped in between a gasp and a moan is rebutted with her sultry say it again. I want to hear that pretty voice beg. It takes the stalling of the rhythm in her working hand before he finds the ability to whimper out his desperate please, please, please. She's using her free hand to hold his face still, their eyes locked together, while he can barely keep himself in one piece. Her thumb is soft over his lips, brushing over little gasps and short breaths, holding him while she whispers a question and he falls apart in her hands.

If Kevin loves to be topped by strong women, Allison loves to hear a man moan. And she’s never heard him like this before, his lips drawn apart just inches from hers, one hand steadying himself against the wall and the other tugging and pawing at the skin of the small of her back. She doesn't let him look away as she guides him to climax with her soft words of gentle praise. How pretty he looks when he's trying his hardest to be quiet, how well he's doing at keeping himself composed.

Allsion doesn't care that she's accidentally unlocked this submissive side of Kevin; firstly, he's hot as hell when he's this desperate, and it's not as if she's going to be leaving that bathroom and calling him a good boy on the court, because that's not how this works. She's fucked him angry and she's fucked him needy - the passion of fulfilled fantasy only working on a different level to anything else.

(When he's caught his breath and started to clean himself up, she washes her hands and admires her work; his rosy cheeks burning up as she watches him in the mirror. She pushes herself up onto the vanity, and when he can finally bare to look at her again, she says I'm proud of you with a playful smile. Kevin covers his face to laugh in semi-embarrassment, his head shaking as he finds himself in between her legs. They don't talk about it too much before he returns the favour.)

Then there's, Allison, sweet Allison, who's interests work in harmony like a perfect composed song. We knows she loves to hear the men she sleeps with, but there's two things that really get her going that more often than not go hand in hand - rough sex, and loud sex. Living in dorms, it's hard to indulge, especially the second, but usually she'll just pull him close, with his lips to her ear or hers to his. Allison gets off on hearing the person she's fucking, and Kevin is not an exception to that.

They've somehow had a stroke of luck - an empty house in Columbia and some time to kill. Kevin is on the edge of the bed, and Allison is facing Kevin while sitting on his lap, her knees resting on either side of him, in a skirt that is already so short that it's barely even there. They're making out, and Kevin isn't really thinking, but he slaps her ass - something he'd done once or twice before, but never that hard, never that loud. Allison sits back, hands on his shoulders with her mouth open wide. She doesn't get the chance to finish her questioning what are you doing? Before his mischievous smile curls around, what, this? as he laughs and does it again. When she stands up off of him in a half-protest, shaking her finger at how close he was getting to really getting her going, he follows her up. He stands in front of her with feigned apologies for his boldness. She leans into his kiss, with arms wrapped tight around her waist, but instead of pouting his lips, he picks her up and throws her back onto the bed while she scream-laughs.

Body over body, on top of her then, a hand finds it's way in between strands of shiny blonde. A hand that she takes into hers, guiding his fist to grasp a handful of her hair. When he doesn't hold it hard enough she tugs it gently, keeping his fist closed with her hand around it. Looking down at her, he purses his lips with an oh that pauses his other hand while it pushes up her skirt to touch her over her panties. Reading him while waiting for the laugh that never comes is agonisingly long, as she braces herself for the mortifying conversation that he was not going to be entertaining it. Instead he waits for her hand to trail away before pulling her head, hard, back into the bed. And when she shuts her eyes and parts her lips in pleasure, he is quick to bring his hand up to her chin, tilting her head back. The two smallest of his fingers fingers tuck themselves neatly behind her ear, the other two tight between her jawline and her cheekbone. The ball of his thumb is resting on her chin. She doesn't stop him when his thumb trails down from her cupid's bow and into her mouth. She doesn't stop him when he takes it out hold it around her throat, either. Kevin is careful to scatter wet bruises down her chest where they won't be seen. When he's standing back to take off his pants and she’s lifting her top over her head, he asks, you want it hard? and she responds do you even fucking have to ask?

Her skirt is up over her hips and her thong down her thighs. He’s on his knees with her legs over his thighs, maybe he’s pinning her hands down above her head with one big hand over her little wrists. Headboard banging, unrestrained volume, handprints on ass cheeks and scratches across spines. Allison gets sex-drunk when he manhandles her. It’s sloppy, it’s messy, it’s loud, it’s so hot that it’s on fire. It’s eye-rolling, being in a daze afterwards type of fucking. It’s mascara running down cheeks, how the fuck am I supposed to look anyone in the eye after having that done to me type of fucking. It’s needing to have a shower immediately afterwards type of sweaty, messy fucking.

(It’s probably one of the only times they almost/kind of get caught. Not because of the noise, or the sex itself but because of the aftermath. Andrew and Neil clock INSTANTLY the missing and changed details when they regroup - how Kevin’s hair is freshly washed, how Allison has taken her heavy makeup off leaving only a fresh coat of mascara and some lipgloss remaining. How they can barely look at each other in case it reminds them of what has just happened. Their puffy lips, their general daze. Yeah, they fly a little too close to the sun that time - not enough time afterwards to recuperate from an absolutely dirty, filthy, fucking.)

If it's an intentional thing, a discussion about what they're into, and they know before getting into it/it's a conscious choice/it's intentional/some sort of discussion/WHATEVER? There's a few ways I could potentially see it possibly coming up.

A game of Never Have I Ever or some other drinking game with the group and the discussions of kinks come up; Kevin drinks when somebody mentions a praise kink, or being dominated. Allison drinks when somebody mentions liking it rough. Their looks to each other are quick but knowing, Kevin's raised eyebrows when Allison drinks to say she doesn't mind being degraded, the flick of her eyes when he drinks to say he doesn't mind begging for it.

They don't hang around after hooking up, usually. Clean up, get dressed, and leave. That's the routine. But they're talking afterwards for a little while, and the subject of fantasies comes up, and while shes fixing her makeup and tying up her hair she asks him what's the one thing he'd go crazy for. he considers it for a little bit but then gets embarrassed because it's a way harder thing to talk about when you're not actively turned on or drunk. They offer each other tiny pieces as they joke about it, starting tame before they eventually just say it out straight. (she calls him princess when she's leaving and he calls her a slut before she shuts the door.)

They ask each other outright. Kinda similar to accidentally figuring it out but they ask each other for it instead of the other person just doing something and stumbling upon it. Maybe Kevin asks her to tell him how good he feels and she asks why, are you into that? and they like. talk through it . Do you like it when I ask you this? Can I call you this? Do you like it when I tell you you're doing such a good job? Talking through sex can be so hot and even hearing the questions out loud sets the imagination off on a fucking marathon. Maybe Allison asks can you choke me? and he asks her how she likes it before agreeing. Do you like it when I hold you like this? Do you want me to spit in your mouth? Do you want to shut the fuck up and listen to what you do to me? It's a much more thorough discussion than them simply going oh, i think the other person has [blank] kink, so i'm just gonna go ahead and do that. It's a request, instead. Both of them knowing what they want and knowing how to ask for it? Yeaaaahhhh

[ragnarockz]

If Agnes were to get hurt on the job, how would Vidal react depending on the level of severity? I’m picturing some soft “don’t you dare leave me” sex.

I love when you guys hit me with angst because it's like oh! an allowance for me to be sad AND moody AND sweet?

Have some on the fly poetry by yours truly as well 😉

I like to think Agnes is kinda going in and out here; her mind not really understanding the extent of her accident. Her mind is just filling in everything and nothing at once and...oohh...is that... 💀Vidal? hmmm

I find you in places no one else knows where to look,

on the cusp of the living and

the dead.

Agnes slowly opened her eyes as the never-ending jack hammering throbbed into her skull. She groaned under her breath; jaw slack and mouth dry. She doesn't remember falling asleep with a migraine? Doesn't remember being put to bed with the blinds closed and the comforter pulled up to her chin?

She spots a figure all in black at her right side, sitting in the armchair. Alert and with a book in their hand, the figure puts it down without care when they notices the gentle rustling of Agnes' movements; the groan that escaped her lips. Rushing over like water against smooth river stones, Agnes feels a cool sensation on her hand and then a tightening around it. Long nails and smooth skin; perfumed in a way that reminds her of home.

"Agnes, you're home, Baby."

Home.

And it fills her chest and ribs and heart like an overflowing well that's going to spill over. Her heart is aching, ribs are burning. She tries to cough but no air or phlegm comes up. The figure beside her reaches for a glass with a straw poking out of it and brings it gently to her lips. She drinks; like a horse to water that was actually stubborn enough to want what was offered. The figure relaxes; shoulders sinking down and the glass and straw move slowly away.

"The doctor said we can keep an eye on you here. They patched you up; I got your medication...you're going to be fine, Agnes. Ok? I promise."

The voice like velvet wraps around her heart and squeezes gently. Soothed. Agnes sighs into the pillow and tries to lift her head to see the darkened figure a little better; wants to see where that sweet saccharine sound it coming from. What is the source? Where could something so honeyed stem from? Wilting flowers in a vase causes Agnes' nose to wrinkle. The sound is not from those dying flowers. That, she knows.

Black Tulip. "Queen of Night".

The comforter pulls back for the figure to survey and study Agnes' body underneath. Hands gently searching, reaching. Agnes feels the coolness of them once more as they brush over her burning chest and the itchy bandage that wraps up under her arm and over. She winces and tries her best to look up at the face that hovers over her now.

Bone white is the face that looks upon

me. Smooth and sleek and filled with

purpose I cannot remember. You are

there and I'm on the other side, waiting for you to

ferry me.

"...Vidal?"

Her voice comes out like sandpaper and stones. Hard in her throat that it made her heart ache again. She closed her eyes and felt the back of the cool fingers caress her forehead. She was safe; she knew that now. Home. In her bed. In their bed. Vidal was in their bed now, too.

"...are you hurt, too?"

And she barely saw the tiny smile grow on Vidal's perfect lips. She shook her head gently; smelt the tears spring from the corner of her eyes,

"No, Baby. I'm not hurt."

And Agnes could smell the sweetness from Vidal's skin; crushed pansies and clover under ones feet in the summer. Crushed and crushed until there's nothing left put the sticky sweet pollen that clings to your feet and you bring it up inside to your bed. Warm and safe; hands reaching inwards to pull you out.

"Safe?"

Vidal could have sworn the voice was that of a child. So small, so broken. She had never heard Agnes be this tenderhearted; this small. Her voice carried like a single leaf in the wind and landed on Vidal's lap. She moved her hand away from Agnes' forehead to cup the side of her face. She moved down gently to kiss the detectives' lips; wishing that alone could heal her wounds.

Fevered hands and fingers wound their way up and under Agnes' flannel shirt; a true testament of the woman that wore it. Vidal was pained to see Agnes' favorite blue one be trashed at the hospital; covered in blood and shredded. Agnes' armor had broke; cracked. Stripped away from herself; the doctors and nurses worked diligently to extract the bullet and sew the wound.

Her chest reacting like the stones at the bottom of a riverbed to the cool touch of fingers as they found their way onto her chest; gently massaging her to a level of warmth. She groaned, no pain now. She knew Vidal could decipher the sound. She wanted more and she didn't know how to ask of it when her mouth was filled with sticks. Didn't know how to beg for love in her green flannel shirt.

Lips and hands filled her up; made the throbbing in her head disperse. Her muscles loosened; eyes opened. Vidal's gentle mouth was still on hers and she could taste the ocean in between kisses.

"You...you're...crying..."

Agnes whispered into Vidal's mouth and tried to move her hands to hold her partner. Dead weight like sunken logs; her hands stayed at her sides. She felt bad; felt like she couldn't reciprocate the love she was receiving. An entire ocean now swallowing her whole.

Endless like a summer sky I find you

there. Weightless, lifeless. You lay in wait for

me and there is where I'll find you. Hands prying so

gently inside of you as I fill you up with nothing but a

deep desire to be explored.

Her head and her heart and the space between her legs felt so full; so dangerously full. Agnes was always scared of wasting herself; not being stingy enough. Vidal did not care as her fingers curled so slightly to scoop up what she was given and then gently push their way inside. The wet heat filled Agnes back up; made her focus just a little bit harder.

Agnes could feel the love, could feel the fear in Vidal's touch. Hands and fingers so gentle as they pumped so sweetly up inside of her. Everything felt fuzzy; like a static TV screen that crackled at your fingertips when you got too close. Agnes bit her bruised bottom lip and pulled her shoulders down as much as her wounds would let her to ride out the sinking sensation between her legs.

She fell asleep soon after but could sense the gentle hands of Vidal clean her up; warm compresses between her legs, her inner thighs. She got her clean and comfortable and tucked her back in again. Brought water to her lips and caressed her face.

"Don't you dare fucking leave me, Agnes O'Connor..."

[asmoslverboy]

Asmodeus, ever blessed by the hands of Aphrodite. Her love, her grace, and her divinity— all poured into the making of your lover. Not a single drop gone to waste. He is the hum of a canary, the song of a muse, the painting of an artist, and the verse of a bard.

How is it so that one such as himself found a liking in you? He doesn't seem to question this as much as you do.

Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust, one who knows how to best embrace desire and how to help it spark in others. He was the one who ignited and brought to life all those sinful wishes each person (or demon) has had.

But that was never the case with you, was it? His attempts at seducing you were none but aimless. How is it that you can resists his charm, he wondered. He was troubled at first, concerned that his magic had limits that could not be surpassed.

But as time passed on, he learned to accept it. And as he did accept reality such as it was, he started sensing your yearning for him. But it was nothing compared to what he had seen in the eyes, in the souls, of others.

Your need for him was different. He knew it as well as you did.

And to be seen by you, not as someone who was there to simply give you a night of unforgettable experience, but as someone who you'd choose to be with in more means than just one, someone who you'd spend your limited days with— knowing that was his purest form of satisfaction.

To be loved by you, and to love you in exchange, is what he'd desire most.

[doki-doki-imagines]

Hiii! Love your work! So ever since that episode Chigiri calls Isagi attaboy, my brain has been just in there. So could I maybe get some good old, fast, maybe a little rough Chigiri calling reader Attagirl? Maybe a little bit of degradation too. Like being mean maybe

This man lives in my head tent free jdkdkd

“You dumb whore, instead of complaining can’t you put your mouth to better use?”

You knew from day one that Hyoma is a moody guy and you also learned how to deal with him, but today he really reached to apex, mood swinging back and forth and you were way too angry (and horny) to deal with it; thankfully Hyoma followed your lead.

Your mouth now kissing his boner through the fabric of his boxer, you can feel it twitch already, his hips grinding into your mouth begging to feel your mouth without any barrier.

It’s funny teasing Hyoma when he is in such a bad mood, but you are human too. You pull his dick out, usually, you would kiss the tip and lick slowly the shaft with the utmost care, but today isn’t the right one for such a nice treatment. You take as much as you can, moaning around the shaft.

“Ah finally” Hyoma groans. He then grips your hair, something he usually wouldn’t do, and forces you to take him all, your gags and tears make him just more aroused. He keeps you there for a second, enjoying the tightness of your throat, then let you go.

Tears running down your face and a string of spit connecting your abused mouth to his tip; a picture that is going to be framed in his head for a long time.

“Just say you wanted this from the start you bitch” A nasty snark escape his lips.

Hyoma grabs one of your hands and guides it to his thigh, a silent promise that he is gonna stop at the first tap, then he pulls your head again and starts fucking your face.

“You take it so well – You feel so good, fuck”  His words only spur you to do better, laving your tongue on the sides of the shaft as good as you can, your mouth making wet, sinful noises every thrust.

“K-keep going for a little bit more”

You nod, as best as you can since he is still keeping your head in place, the vibration making a delicious shiver run down his spine.

“Atta - attagirl” This time it’s your turn to feel the shiver; it is so good to be praised.

“Goddess, c-can I come on your face?” Hyoma moans, the aggressiveness of earlier almost vanished.

This time you don’t have time to answer, Hyoma already pulled out, jerking off at the sight of your tears, snot, and overall miserable face. A few more pumps and you found your lips and cheeks stained by strings of his cum.

“W-was it too much?”

“You were just perfect”

“Give me a minute and get on all fours, it’s time for me to reward my good girl.”

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Spreading my "Cumulus is def a blood hound because I said so" headcanon. Sunny doesn't stand a chance.

It's not that Sunshine's distracted, it's just that Cumulus is wearing a white shirt that cannot belong to her given how big it's on her and nothing else, which is a far better thing to focus on than whatever Sunshine was doing before the air ghoulette entered the kitchen.

Sharp pain in her pointer finger. Ouch. Right, she was cutting an apple. Sunshine curses, immediately trying to do damages control, jerking her hand away from the fruit in an attempt not to get any blood on it. It isn't too bad, just a little cut that will easily be concealed under a plaster, but it still bleeds enough to trickle down her hand in a steady drip.

Sunshine is about to reach for a tissue when her hand is snatched in a firm grip. She looks up, immediately freezing when she catches sight of Cumulus' eyes, almost entirely black with the way her pupils expanded. She's not meeting Sunshine's, no, Cumulus is entirely focused on the crimson smeared on the hybrid ghoulette's hand, tongue darting out to wet plush lips. Satan, Sunshine finally understand what a prey feels like when it's backed against a wall, nothing but sharp teeth and danger facing it.

She probably shouldn't like it as much as she does.

"...Lus ?"

Before Sunshine's mind can properly wraps itself around the situation, Cumulus dips her head down, tongue lolling out of her mouth to capture every single drop of blood, lavishing it against the hybrid ghoulette's hand with a hungry sort of devotion.

"Sweet," Cumulus purrs, diving back down to take two of Sunshine's fingers in her mouth, fangs scrapping lightly against her skin, a very real warning for Sunny to keep still. But really, Cumulus has nothing to worry about ; for Sunshine to move, she'd have to be in the possession of a working brain, which, ever since she felt red painted lips wrap around her fingers, is not the case anymore.

Fuck, she's almost instantly throbbing.

Cumulus looks up through pale eyelashes, tongue flicking obscenely over the delicate webbing between Sunny's pointer and middle finger, smirking the best she can around the two digits, which is very clearly an attempt on the hybrid ghoulette's life.

Satanas, Sunshine needs to sit down ; she feels lightheaded, which makes sense, given the amount of blood that rushed to her cock at ungodly speed. Cumulus scoots closer, wraps an arm around Sunny's waist to bring her closer, pressing their fronts together until they can both feel eachother's tiniest movement. Sunshine's stupid double tail starts wagging incontrolably when Cumulus' wraps around her thigh, teasing at the front of her shorts, where a bulge is already clearly visible, pressing against the soft flesh of the air ghoulette's stomach.

Cumulus coos, freeing Sunshine's fingers just to lap at stray drops that found their way to the inside of her wrist.

"Sunny, Sunny, Sunny," the air ghoulette sing-songs, eyes sharp, "sweet girl."

Her hand slides down, down down, until Sunshine makes a wounded little noise at the divine pressure on her painfully hard cock.

"It looks like you have a little problem, mmh ?" Cumulus goes on, now whispering directly in Sunny's ear. All she can do is nod, chest heaving. Cumulus grins, fangs on display.

"I can fix that."

Sunshine's last coherent thought is that she is about to get wrecked.

[waitineedaname]

the experience of writing fic for svsss has been absolutely insane so far. I posted a fic less than 24 hours ago and it already has twenty comments. I have been in so many fandoms where you have to BEG to get comments, where you'd be lucky to get more than ten comments and the ratio between hits and kudos/comments/bookmarks was vast, but so far the scum villain fandom has been super responsive! The hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks ratios have been super tight, even on my fics which have all been oneshots under 10k!

And it's not just me! I regularly see fanart for svsss fics, which was a rare sight in a lot of other fandoms I've been in. People reblog minifics that get posts to tumblr and leave tags and replies on them. I've written for a lot of fandoms in my time, and this a shocking amount of fic engagement compared to many other fandoms I've been in!!

I can't help but wonder if it's because of the nature of scum villain itself? Other people have talked about how the story uniquely appeals to writers, and it ultimately is about the relationship between a writer and reader, especially in a fan space. I can't help but wonder if the combination of this being a fandom with a high density of writers and it being a story about engaging with writing encourages a fandom culture that is super engaged with fanfiction!