#i almost didn’t make him run and then I was like. no this is a significant moment. narrative parallels

[reignpage]

Frat Boy!Gojo

Madri Lager: drunk words

Contents: cursing, just a little conversation between them to set the mood and provide a backdrop for the next fic, not proofread

No fucking way. 

There’s just no fucking way. 

“Why the hell are you here?” You hiss. 

Gojo fucking Satoru strolled into your lecture hall, smug grin on his fuck ugly face, arms folded behind his head and swinging his legs like a maniac. From the doors at the front, he immediately spotted you all the way at the back, sat by your lonesome and you could see his shit-eating grin widen. The whites of his teeth blind you almost as much as his impossibly white hair.

Then, the freak had the audacity to climb the stairs, ignoring the whispering and the pointing, and sat next to you. Well, a seat down because you refused to move your bag, even fought with him a little when he tried to lift it. 

He shrugs, slinging an arm around the back of the chair between you, fingertips way too close to your shoulder, and black sunglasses hanging low on his nose bridge. “Was feeling bored so here I am.”

Counting to ten, you tried to put on a patient voice, like you’re berating a child, which you pretty much are, and you grit out, “Bored people take up hobbies. Bored people do things like puzzles and cooking and knitting. Bored people don’t crash lectures and bother other people.”

“I love when you lecture me on common knowledge, wifey. It really warms my heart.” To emphasise his stupid point, he presses a hand to his chest and fans his face with the other. “You’re just so smart.”

You slap his hand away when he tries to boop your nose. People are staring, turning their heads like owls as they strained to listen to your conversations. Some people are taking pictures, no doubt sending it to The Bulletin or whatever, because people have nothing better to do than gossip. You hate this attention; the pointing and whispering because of your appearance you’ve learnt to tolerate, but this? 

This is just irritating on a different level.

At least once a day, a cheerful stranger comes up to you and asks in bewilderment if you’re Gojo’s fiancee. In fact, they ask if you’re really, actually the future wife of Gojo Satoru like he’s some mythical being and you’re a frumpy little worm. Fuck them. And fuck him. 

“Go away, Gojo,” you roll your eyes, typing as much of the lecturer’s notes as you can, a little distracted by the peering eyes around you and the ones running over your clothes . 

He sighs and lifts the lace from your dress, rounding the neckline. You feel it tickle your neck, and you fight the urge to shudder. In disgust. With a forced melodramatic tone, he complains, “I’m bored. Entertain me.”

“Are you fucking twelve? Go watch a movie like a normal person.”

“Movies are boring,” he retorts as if it’s fact. 

You roll your eyes. “And what? I’m so much more interesting?” 

What a stupid question. You really shouldn’t have asked that because the serious expression on his face as he lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug makes you blush. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

“Did you meet Suguru on the course or was he your piercer first?”

Still typing, you throw him a side glance, feeling suspicious of the sudden change in conversation. But it’s welcomed. “We met on the course. First year. We were in the same class. He’s a good guy.”

Gojo huffs as if he didn’t like your answer. 

The piercer’s actually a decent person; he was friendly, smart, and kind. He made long, boring classes feel shorter with his interesting insights and opinions, and he had such a great way of expressing them — he was the most eloquent male you’ve ever met. However, there was always something off about him, like an inner turmoil that neither you nor he could ever quite understand. 

It was when he absentmindedly said he was thinking of dropping out that you felt you knew him a little better. You both shared a long talk at the back of the Life Sciences building where your little stroll took you, him smoking and you listening to his mutterings. He spoke of this feeling of being out of place, which you understood better than anyone else, and how the traditional path didn’t suit him. He disappeared for a while, a couple months, and you thought your response might have spooked him. After all, no one ever really comes to you for advice. But when he reached out to offer you a free piercing as his first ever client at his newly opened studio, you realised maybe you are capable of dropping an odd pearl here and there. 

“Well, Suguru’s my bestie, so back off,” Gojo pouts.

From your peripheral, you see him eye the big lecture hall and you don’t really know what he’s thinking. It’s an odd realisation to think that Geto, the guy you’ve always kind of admired, is actually friends with this loser – the suggestion that there’s a redeeming quality to the frat guy is one that doesn’t suit you. 

Most times he’s easy to read; he wants fun and excitement and thrill. He does whatever’s convenient or interesting, a totally impulsive guy. But there are rare moments, emphasis on rare, where you think there might be something more going on in that huge head of his. Maybe there’s something deeper to him. A maturity and wisdom he’s yet to show. 

“Fuck, marry or kill,” he lifts three fingers, “Marx, Satre or Aristotle.”

Yeah, unlikely. 

“Gojo, seriously, go away,” you sigh, exasperated. Just five minutes with the guy and you’re already drained. And somehow, you’re expected to live a lifetime with the weirdo?

Satan strike you down. 

“Me personally, Satre’s cute but something about big, bushy beards really gets me going. So, it’ll have to be: kill Aristotle, no offence dude, fuck Satre, and marry Marx.”

Two girls in the row in front of you giggle. Your lips turn down in repulsion. 

“I’m not sure Marx would like either of us, Gojo,” you give him a pointed look. 

He laughs. It’s loud and sudden and he has to say sorry to the entire lecture when it echoes around the hall. Some people laugh at him, or with him, and the lecturer can only shake his head and carry on. This lecturer is strict and merciless when it comes to interruptions, but of course he doesn’t say a thing against the interloper. How could he when there’s a huge placard over the double doors of this building titled ‘From the Loving Hearts of The Gojo Charitable Foundation’?

A couple minutes pass in relative silence, just the tapping of fingers against keyboards and the droning of the professor filling the space, and you think maybe he’s fallen asleep or maybe he’s so bored that he’s actually thinking of leaving. 

Of course, neither of those things happen because the universe hates you. 

Gojo pokes your side with a pen. You writhe with a blush. 

“Oh, ticklish, are we? Very interesting.” He wiggles his brows like an idiot, and you fight the urge to land a punch there. “Our wedding night’s gonna be fun.”

“We’re not going to have one if you had it your way, remember?”

Leaning back in his seat, he taps the pen —where the hell did even get that? He wasn’t carrying a bag— against his chin, considering his words carefully. He shrugs again. “Well, seeing as everyone’s so set on it, I’ve decided to, you could say, open myself to the idea.”

You try to quell the spark of hope there, that maybe your family could be saved, that you’ll be saved. It’s not wise to let that spark fester into something more. 

Gojo’s impulsive. Fact. 

Gojo’s a thrill-seeker. Fact. 

Gojo is an unserious guy set in his bachelor ways. He cannot be relied upon. He cannot be trusted to keep his word.

All facts. 

It’s easy for him to be able to have the option to be ‘open’ to an idea, whereas it’s thrusted upon you without much say. He can wake up and make decisions solely based on his urges, but you have to be mindful of the family’s reputation, your father’s bad habits, your mother’s social conservative ways, and the fact that this is all your fault. 

“Gojo,” you turn, fixing him with a solemn expression, “don’t do that. Don’t lead me on. I may not want to marry you, but I do want to marry. I must. It’s important to me, so please don’t wave it around like it’s some pretty flag.”

There must be something in your eyes, a graveness or a sombre quality that makes his smile disappear. His brows furrow like he’s trying to understand, trying to piece things together but you’re turning away before he could see. 

Clearing his throat, he pokes you again. “Alright. How about this?”

You throw him a doubtful look, worried about what dumbassery is going to leave his mouth. 

“Go on a date with me.”

“No.”

“Hey! You said that way too quickly.”

Resuming your typing, you’re already trying to drown him out, focused on the history of pragmatic ethics instead of his humoured tone. He’s suggesting something ridiculous again. As if you’d go on a date with him. Him. The guy who’s been getting in the way, the one who’s been making your life difficult and family dinners awkward, and the one you certainly cannot trust to not set up some trap to humiliate you like in the movies. 

“I’m being serious. Let’s go on a date.” Seeing you open your mouth to argue back, he hurriedly adds, “This isn’t fair on me either, y’know? I’m supposed to marry a stranger, one who wears all black and looks like she’d haunt me — not a bad thing, I’m actually kinda into it, question mark? — but my point is, we don’t really know each other. So why don’t we go on a date? It’s a pretty brilliant idea, if I do say so myself.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you mull it over. Sure, it makes sense, it would be good to get to know the freak you’re marrying or supposed to marry. This is how it should have been in the first place. Plus, your mother would certainly approve; she’d think this is a golden opportunity to secure him, to make him fall for you or whatever Mrs. Bennet thing she’s thinking of. 

However, as good as that idea is, you can’t just eagerly agree; there’s no guarantee this isn’t a trap. 

“You’re thinking this is a trap, aren’t you?” Your eyes meet his. He’s grinning ear to ear like he’s proud he guessed correctly. “Why don’t you plan the date, then? Set the time and place, that way there’s no way I could have rigged the environment with explosives or something.”

“No pig blood?”

Gojo smiles even brighter, and you have to squint to prevent losing your vision permanently. 

“No pig blood.”

[leejenowrld]

all i want — na jaemin

pairing — na jaemin x reader

word count — 5.4k

genre — smut, explicit sexual content, sickeningly soft sex, riding, cock bouncing, intimacy

synopsis — you find jaemin sitting by the christmas tree after midnight, the soft glow of lights casting golden shadows across his bare chest as he waits for you. he pulls you into his lap, hands gliding up your thighs with just enough pressure to make you squirm, his voice low and teasing as he murmurs how good you’ve been for him this year. his kisses start slow, deliberate, but they quickly turn desperate—clothes pushed aside, your body pressed down onto the soft carpet beneath him. the lights flicker above you, catching in the dark hunger of his gaze as he fucks you hard and deep, his grip firm on your hips, like he’s afraid to let you go. your moans mix with his rough groans, the quiet of the house broken only by the sounds of him taking you apart, whispering that you’re the only gift he’s ever wanted

[fic ml]

The house was quiet, the kind of silence that only came late at night when the world had finally slowed down. The Christmas tree glowed softly, casting golden light across the room, its twinkling bulbs reflected faintly in the darkened windows. The air was warm, rich with the scent of pine and the lingering sweetness of cinnamon candles that had melted down to their wicks hours ago. Your bare feet sank into the plush carpet as you lingered at the edge of the room, eyes fixed on him.

Jaemin sat by the tree, one leg bent, the other stretched out lazily in front of him. His hair was a little mussed, tufts sticking up in different directions like he’d been running his fingers through it absentmindedly, a habit you found endearing. The soft light spilled across his bare chest, illuminating the faint curve of his collarbone, the smooth lines of his shoulders, and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. His skin looked warm, golden in the glow, and you felt an inexplicable pull toward him, like his presence alone could dissolve the quiet ache of the day.

His hand rested on his thigh, fingers curling and uncurling idly as though they were waiting for you. His gaze lifted the moment he felt yours, soft and open, with just the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips. Not the teasing kind he wore when he caught you flustered, but something gentler—unspoken affection, warm and steady, as though looking at you was enough to fill every part of him. He didn’t say anything, just tipped his head slightly, a silent invitation.

You couldn’t help but take him in—the way his chest expanded with each slow breath, the soft curve of his lips, the shadows cast by his lashes when his gaze flickered down for a moment, catching himself before he smiled wider. His presence filled the room, not in a loud or imposing way, but like a steady flame that burned just for you.

“You’ve been standing there for a while,” he murmured, his voice low, rich with an intimacy that sank into the quiet stillness of the house. His gaze traveled over you slowly, deliberately, lingering in a way that made your skin prickle with warmth. He didn’t move at first, just tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes catching the glow of the lights, soft but edged with something deeper—something that made your breath hitch.

“Come here,” he said, the words barely above a whisper but heavy enough to settle in the air between you. His fingers curled against his thigh, a subtle motion that drew your attention to the way his muscles shifted under his skin. “Are you going to sit on my lap,” he continued, his tone dipping lower, “or are you just going to keep staring like that?”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you moved toward him, your steps slow, almost hesitant, the plush carpet quiet under your feet. Jaemin’s gaze stayed fixed on you, unrelenting in its warmth, tracing every step, every shift in your posture, like he was memorizing the way you came to him. His silence wasn’t empty—it was heavy with meaning, a palpable thread of attention that wrapped around you and pulled you closer. When you reached him, his hand rose, fingers brushing against the inside of your wrist before curling around it gently, the touch lingering, deliberate. With a soft tug, he guided you down, his lap solid and warm beneath you.

“There you go,” he murmured, his voice low and close, words brushing the shell of your ear as his arms enveloped you. One hand settled on the small of your back, the other sliding up to cradle your side, firm yet tender as he pulled you against him. His skin radiated heat, the steady rise and fall of his chest grounding you as your palms rested there, the rhythm of his breathing syncing with your own. He shifted slightly, adjusting you like he couldn’t bear even a sliver of distance, his lips brushing your temple in a soft, fleeting touch. “Much better,” he whispered, his voice threaded with quiet satisfaction, the kind that made you feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Jaemin had a way of making you feel seen, held, even without words. His presence was steady, grounding, always tethered to you by touch. His fingers would linger at your side when he passed behind you, a soft brush of skin that made warmth bloom in your chest. When you sat close, his leg would press against yours, solid and reassuring, or his hand would find its place on your thigh, his thumb idly tracing slow, deliberate circles. He didn’t need to announce his affection—it was in the way he draped your favorite blanket over your shoulders without a word, the weight of it sinking into you like his attention had, or the way he’d steal a glance at you while he cooked breakfast, a small smile tugging at his lips when he caught you looking back. In a crowded room, his hand would slip into yours like instinct, fingers lacing together, his touch firm enough to steady you but gentle enough to make your pulse skip.

Christmas with him felt tangible, something you could hold onto in every moment. Earlier in the evening, flour had dusted the counter and your fingertips as you laughed together, Jaemin pretending to pout when you pointed out his icing skills weren’t as perfect as he claimed. He leaned close to show you his snowman design, his breath warm against your neck, the closeness making your heart race more than it should have. Later, his arms had wrapped around you from behind as you opened his gift, his chin resting on your shoulder, his chest pressed against your back as he murmured how much he hoped you’d like it. With Jaemin, it wasn’t about grand gestures or lavish surprises. It was the way he stayed close, how his touch lingered, the warmth of his body against yours when he pulled you into his lap, like he couldn’t stand for even the smallest space to come between you.

Sitting in his lap, the glow of the tree casting warm shadows across his skin, you felt the weight of the day dissolve beneath his touch. His hands rested on your thighs, his palms broad and warm as his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles, each stroke sparking a warmth that curled low in your stomach. His gaze locked onto yours, dark and heavy, searching in a way that made your breath catch. His lips parted slightly, and his head tilted back just enough to give you a better view of his sharp jawline, the way his throat moved when he swallowed, his breathing slow and steady but charged.

“You’ve been good this year,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, rich and teasing as his thumbs pressed into the soft flesh of your thighs. His smile curved lazily, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, the glint in them enough to make your skin flush hot. “Haven’t you?”

Your breath hitched, and the way he looked at you made it impossible to hold his gaze for too long. Your cheeks burned under his attention as you shifted slightly in his lap, the motion drawing a quiet hum from him. “You tell me,” you managed, your voice softer than you intended.

His smile widened, the edges tinged with something darker, something that sent a shiver racing up your spine. His hands slid higher, fingers brushing the hem of your nightwear, his grip firm enough to make your hips press instinctively closer to his. “I don’t think I’ve told you enough,” he said, his tone dropping into something more intimate, his lips so close to yours that his breath warmed your skin. “How proud I am of you. How lucky I am to have you.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss so soft it felt more like a promise than a touch. His hands tightened on your thighs, holding you steady as he deepened the kiss, slow at first but quickly growing more insistent. His chest rose and fell against yours, his breathing still measured but heavier, like he was fighting to stay in control.

“Jaemin,” you whispered, your voice shaky, but he caught it, his lips hovering just over yours.

“Mm?” he hummed, the sound low and vibrating against your mouth as his hands slid higher, gripping your waist and pulling you more firmly into him. “What is it, love?” His tone was soft but laced with something that made heat pool low in your belly.

You shook your head, your fingers curling against the bare expanse of his shoulders. “Nothing,” you murmured, your lips brushing his with the word. “Just… I love you.”

He stilled for a moment, his gaze dropping to your lips before rising back to meet yours. Something in his expression softened, the teasing edge melting into something tender, something that made your chest ache. “I love you too,” he said, his voice low but steady, his lips pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, then trailing down to your temple, your cheek, and finally back to your mouth.

The kiss deepened, the heat between you growing with every second as Jaemin’s hands roamed your body, fingers digging into your skin just enough to leave you gasping against his mouth. His lips were soft, but the way he moved was anything but—insistent, deliberate, his touch making your body ache with the need for more. His thumbs slid under the hem of your shirt, brushing the bare skin of your waist, and you felt him smile against your lips as you shivered.

“Off,” he murmured, his voice low but teasing as he tugged lightly at your shirt. You broke the kiss long enough to pull it over your head, laughing softly when he fumbled with the fabric, trying to toss it aside. The sound made him grin, his gaze flicking to your bare skin before he reached for you again, pulling you back onto his lap.

“You’re slow,” you teased, your voice breathy as you reached for the waistband of his sweatpants, fingers tugging at the soft fabric. “Let me help.”

“Am I?” he shot back, his tone playful but laced with challenge. His hands moved to your thighs, gripping them as he shifted beneath you, his strength evident in the way he easily lifted you just enough to push his pants lower. The movement had you giggling, your knees slipping on the soft fabric of his pants as you tried to balance yourself.

“Jaemin,” you laughed, your voice a mix of exasperation and affection as you swatted at his hands, trying to wriggle out of your own shorts. “You’re not making this easier.”

“I’m helping,” he replied, his lips quirking into a smirk as he tugged at your waistband, the action earning a sharp gasp when his fingers brushed lower than you expected. His eyes darkened at the sound, his teasing demeanor faltering for just a moment before he leaned in, capturing your mouth in another kiss.

It was messy, the two of you fumbling and laughing as you pushed at each other’s clothes, your movements hurried but full of warmth. Your hands found the hem of his boxers, and he groaned softly as you slid them down just enough to free him, his cock hot and heavy against your thigh. His breath hitched as your fingers wrapped around him, the sound sending a jolt of heat through you.

“You’re trouble,” he murmured, his voice rough now, his hands sliding up your bare thighs as you shifted to straddle him more fully. His touch was firm, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive skin there as he guided you closer, the heat of his body pressing into yours. The glow of the Christmas tree bathed him in soft light, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips as they parted slightly, his dark eyes fixed on you.

“You like it,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly as you positioned yourself over him, the anticipation tightening in your chest. His hands moved to your hips, his grip steady as you sank down slowly, the stretch of him filling you making your breath stutter.

His head tipped back, a low groan escaping his lips as he felt you take him in, his fingers tightening on your hips like he needed to anchor himself. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice strained but thick with affection as his gaze flicked back to yours. “You feel so good.”

You bit your lip, your hands bracing against his shoulders as you began to move, the motion slow and deliberate at first. The flickering lights of the tree danced across his skin, highlighting the way his chest heaved, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch. His hands slid to your waist, guiding your rhythm as his hips rolled up to meet you, each movement sending a spark of pleasure through your body.

The teasing laughter from earlier was replaced with breathy moans and quiet gasps, the heat between you building with every second. The steady creak of the floor beneath you mixed with the soft sound of your bodies meeting, a rhythm that felt both unhurried and desperate. Jaemin’s hands roamed your back, his touch electric as he leaned in, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, your collarbone, any part of you he could reach.

“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice rough but laced with something tender as his hands returned to your hips, holding you steady. His gaze was heavy, dark with hunger but softened by the affection in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world. “You’re perfect. You know that?”

Your heart twisted at his words, your movements faltering for a moment as you leaned in to kiss him, pouring everything you couldn’t say into the way your lips moved against his. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing yours as the rhythm between you grew faster, more erratic.

The Christmas lights flickered above, casting golden patterns across his skin, but all you could focus on was him—the way his breath came in sharp gasps against your lips, the way his grip on your hips tightened like he couldn’t bear to let you go, the way his body moved with yours like you were meant to fit together. His hands slid higher, fingers brushing the curve of your waist before skimming the sides of your ribs. The touch was deliberate, almost reverent, as though he wanted to commit every inch of you to memory.

His lips found your neck, the heat of his breath grazing your skin as he kissed his way down, open-mouthed and unhurried. The warmth of his tongue flicked over your collarbone, followed by the gentle scrape of his teeth, and you shivered against him. His hands reached up, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks, his touch firm but tender. The quiet gasp that escaped your lips only spurred him on, his grip tightening just enough to make you arch into him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, the words vibrating against your skin as he kissed a path down to your chest. His mouth closed over one of your nipples, his tongue swirling as his other hand teased its twin, his fingers pinching and rolling with just the right amount of pressure. The sensation sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through you, and you couldn’t stop the way your hips rocked against him, drawing a deep groan from his throat.

His hands slid back to your hips, guiding you into a steady rhythm that had his cock pressing deeper with every movement. The stretch was intoxicating, the way he filled you completely, leaving no space between your bodies. His lips returned to yours, kissing you with a hunger that left you breathless, his tongue sliding against yours as his hips bucked up to meet you.

“Jaemin,” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as your movements grew faster, more frantic. His hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding that sensitive spot that made your head tip back, a broken moan spilling from your lips. He worked you in perfect sync with the roll of his hips, his touch skilled, relentless, driving you higher with every stroke.

“You feel so good,” he muttered, his voice rough and hoarse, his eyes dark as they locked onto yours. His free hand gripped your ass, pulling you against him harder, deeper, the intensity between you building until it felt like you were on the edge of unraveling completely.

The raw emotion in his gaze left you undone, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, like you were everything he’d ever wanted. “Stay right here,” he murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges as his fingers traced the curve of your back, pulling you closer. His eyes searched yours, his expression open, vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache. There was no pretense, no facade, just him—completely with you, completely for you.

Jaemin’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingertips pressing into your skin, leaving behind the kind of heat that lingered. His eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and heavy with the kind of focus that made you feel like you were unraveling under his gaze. Every roll of his hips was measured, deliberate, like he was learning what made you gasp, what made you cling to him harder, and then repeating it until your movements turned erratic.

His lips brushed against your collarbone, warm and slightly parted, his breath fanning over your skin before he bit down gently, his teeth grazing the soft curve. The sharp sensation made your nails dig into his shoulders, and you felt the shudder that rolled through him in response. His mouth moved lower, trailing kisses down the line of your throat, his tongue teasing against the sensitive dip where your neck met your shoulder.

Fingers slid up your sides, slow and purposeful, tracing the curve of your ribs before brushing the underside of your breasts. His touch was reverent, almost agonizingly slow, as if he wanted to memorize the way your body moved under his hands. When his thumbs rolled over your nipples, your head tipped back, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. He watched the way your body arched for him, his mouth curving into a faint smirk before his tongue flicked out, warm and deliberate, against the hardened peak.

“You’re trying to distract me,” you managed to tease, though your voice wavered as he took you deeper into his mouth, his lips soft but insistent. He hummed against your skin, the low vibration sending a jolt of heat through you, his hands still working you in rhythm with his mouth, his fingers pinching and rolling with a precision that had you trembling.

“Just admiring,” he murmured, his voice rough and quiet as he pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your skin. He pressed his lips against the swell of your breast before his mouth found your other nipple, his teeth grazing lightly before sucking it into his mouth. The sharp pull made your thighs tense around his hips, the sensation shooting straight to your core.

His hands moved lower again, gripping the curve of your ass as he shifted beneath you, his cock pressing deeper, fuller, the movement enough to have your breath stuttering. His hips rolled up, matching the pace you’d set, but the angle was different now, sharper, each thrust hitting just the right spot.

Your hands slid up his chest, fingers tracing the hard lines of his muscles, your touch roaming over the sweat-slick skin as you braced yourself against his shoulders. He didn’t let you stay there long, though, his hand catching yours and guiding it lower, pressing it flat against his abdomen, just above where your bodies met. The muscles there flexed under your touch, and the quiet groan he let out was almost enough to push you over the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, your voice trembling, though it was unclear if you were saying it to him or yourself. His response was wordless—his grip tightening, his movements growing sharper, his focus never wavering.

One of his hands slid between your thighs, his fingers finding you with an accuracy that made your head fall forward, your forehead pressing against his. His lips brushed yours—not a kiss, but a barely-there touch, his breath mingling with yours as he worked you, the rhythm of his fingers and the grind of his hips perfectly in sync.

“Feels so good like this,” he muttered, the words half-broken, his voice a mix of restraint and need. His other hand moved to your back, fingers splayed as he pulled you closer, like he needed you to feel how tightly he was holding himself together. His eyes searched yours, his expression raw, almost desperate, as if he needed this moment as much as you did.

His skin was damp, the sweat catching on his jaw as his breath came in uneven gasps, lips parted just enough for you to feel the heat of each exhale. His forehead pressed firmly against yours, the closeness grounding you as your movements turned frantic, hips meeting in a rhythm that was rough, desperate, and entirely consuming. His fingers dug into your hips, guiding you harder against him, his groans low and raw as your gasps filled the space between you. Every shift, every thrust sent a sharp, electric current through your body, the tension coiling tighter with every second, leaving no room for anything but him.

Your nails raked down his back, and he hissed, his hips snapping up harder, his hand gripping your ass to pull you down onto him with every thrust. His mouth found your jaw, then your jawline, his lips dragging over your skin, hot and insistent, his teeth grazing just enough to leave a sting before he soothed the spot with his tongue. His grip on your ass tightened, fingers pressing into the curve as he moved you with him, his hips snapping upward in a rhythm that left you breathless.

“Right there,” he muttered against your jaw, his voice rough, each word punctuated by the sharp roll of his hips. His free hand slid up your back, fingers splaying wide as he pulled you closer, your chest flush against his. The friction of your skin meeting only added to the heat building between you, every nerve alight under his touch.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against your throat, the sound low and desperate. His mouth traveled lower, finding the hollow at the base of your neck, his tongue flicking out before his teeth scraped over the sensitive skin. Your body arched into him instinctively, your thighs trembling as his hips met yours with unrelenting precision.

“Let me see you,” he whispered, his breath hot against your collarbone as his hands roamed your body again, one sliding up to cup your breast. His thumb brushed over your nipple, slow at first, then firmer when you gasped, your back arching further under his touch. His lips followed, his mouth finding the peak as he sucked gently, his tongue circling before pulling back to blow cool air over your skin, making you shudder.

“Jaemin,” you breathed, the sound of his name catching in your throat as his other hand slipped between your thighs. His fingers moved with practiced ease, finding you, teasing you, his touch deliberate and maddeningly slow. He watched your reaction, his eyes dark and heavy, his lips curving into a faint smirk when your hips bucked against his hand.

“Keep moving,” he said, his voice thick and commanding, his fingers pressing into you just enough to make your breath hitch. “I want to feel everything.”

You did as he asked, grinding down harder onto him, the stretch of his cock combined with the pressure of his fingers sending shockwaves through your body. The Christmas lights flickered overhead, casting a golden glow across his skin, illuminating the sheen of sweat on his chest, the slight parting of his lips as he groaned.

His mouth found yours again, urgent and consuming, his tongue sweeping against yours as he kissed you like he needed it to breathe. His hands guided your hips, pulling you down harder, deeper, every thrust hitting that spot that made you see stars.

“Don’t stop,” he rasped, his voice barely holding steady, his grip tightening as his movements became rougher, more desperate. The sounds of your bodies meeting filled the room, mingling with your breathless moans and his ragged groans, the quiet of the house broken by the sheer intensity of it all.

Jaemin’s rhythm faltered for just a moment, his hips snapping up harder, more deliberate, as his hand slid up your back, pulling you so close there was nothing between you but heat and motion. His forehead pressed to yours, his breaths coming in sharp, uneven bursts, his gaze locking onto yours. The intensity in his eyes made your chest tighten, your heart pounding almost as loudly as the sound of your bodies meeting.

“Don’t look away,” he murmured, his voice a quiet plea, his hand resting at the nape of your neck, thumb brushing softly along your hairline. His eyes searched yours, raw and steady, like he was trying to hold onto every part of you all at once. “I need to see you. Just like this.”

Your fingers trailed over his shoulders, trembling slightly as they skimmed over his warm skin. His words settled somewhere deep, unshakable, and they made your chest tighten in a way that left you breathless. You leaned closer, your forehead pressing against his, your lips just barely brushing his. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, your voice soft but unwavering. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

His breath caught, and for a moment, he stilled, the weight of your words settling into the quiet between you. His hand slipped to your waist, holding you like you were something precious, something irreplaceable. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, lingering, before his lips trailed to your cheek, your temple, his movements slow and deliberate, each one filled with meaning.

“You’re my whole world,” he whispered, the words trembling against your skin. “Do you know that? Nothing else matters but you.”

Your hands slid into his hair, your fingers tangling gently as you pulled him closer, your lips meeting his in a kiss that felt like it carried the world. His movements slowed further, his hips rolling into you with an unhurried rhythm, every thrust deep and intentional, like he wanted to savor every second. The soft sounds that escaped his lips—your name, half-formed words, quiet sighs—made you feel like nothing else mattered but this.

“You’re all I feel,” you murmured, your lips grazing his as you spoke. “Every part of me is yours.”

His hand slid up your back, his palm pressing firmly against your skin, grounding you in his touch. “I can’t let you go,” he murmured, his voice unsteady, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I wouldn’t know how even if I wanted to.”

Your chest tightened at the raw honesty in his voice, each word settling deep in a place only he could reach. “Then don’t,” you whispered, your hands framing his face as you leaned in, your kiss slow and full of everything you couldn’t say. “I’ve always been yours and I’ll always be yours.”

His breath stuttered, and his arms wrapped tighter around you, like he needed you closer, like the space between you was too much to bear. His lips found your neck, soft and lingering, leaving kisses that felt like they carried more words than he could ever say out loud. His hand drifted down, tracing the curve of your waist, the softness of your thighs, before sliding back up to hold you steady.

The moment stretched between you, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, the pace unhurried but building, like waves crashing softly, slowly gaining strength. His fingers brushed over your back, tracing invisible lines, his other hand gripping your waist, guiding you as he pressed deeper, his movements fluid and effortless.

His forehead rested against yours, his hands gliding up your back in a tender, steady motion. “I love you so much,” he murmured, his voice soft but certain, the words settling in the quiet between you. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Your fingers brushed gently over his jaw as you smiled, your chest tightening at the quiet sincerity in his voice. “I love you more,” you whispered, the words falling effortlessly, like they’d always belonged there.

The tension between you rose steadily, the soft sounds of your breathing mingling with the quiet gasps and sighs that filled the air. His name slipped from your lips, and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours, his gaze full of something so tender it made tears prick at the corners of your eyes. He kissed you again, soft and slow, as your body trembled in his arms, your release building, inevitable, as his touch carried you to the edge.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice full of quiet certainty, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head as he held you close. “I’ve always got you.”

Your body tightened around him, and he stilled for a moment, his own breath catching as he watched you fall apart in his arms. The quiet sound of your name on his lips, his voice full of awe, was the last thing you heard before you came undone. His movements became uneven, his own release washing over him as he buried himself in you, his grip firm but tender, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

The aftershocks rippled through you both, your breaths tangled in the stillness, the air between you heavy with warmth and quiet satisfaction. His hands remained on your waist, his touch soft now, fingertips grazing the curve of your skin like he was reluctant to lose the connection. He shifted slightly, his forehead pressing against yours as his lips brushed against the corner of your mouth, a fleeting kiss that lingered longer than it should have.

His hands tightened on your waist, his thumbs pressing into your skin with just enough pressure to make you shiver. His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, “Do you feel that? The way your body fits mine, the way I can’t stop wanting more of you.” His lips grazed the side of your neck, lingering, his voice thick with heat. “I could spend forever right here, memorizing every part of you.”

Your fingers slid into his hair, tugging gently as you tilted his head back, meeting his gaze with a smirk that barely masked the quiver in your voice. “Forever might not be long enough,” you murmured, your words soft but teasing as your lips hovered over his.

His dark eyes flashed with something sharper, hungrier, as his hands moved lower, his voice a low, intimate growl. “Then I guess we’d better start now, baby girl.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips, his eyes flickering over your face, taking in every detail like he was committing you to memory. He kissed you again, slow and purposeful, his lips warm and unhurried against yours. The intimacy of the moment wasn’t just in the touch, but in the way his breath hitched as he kissed you deeper, his hand sliding back down to hold your waist, pulling you closer even when there was no space left to fill.

“I’ve never needed anything more than I need you,” he whispered against your lips, his voice thick, almost reverent. “You’re all I want. You’re the only gift I’ve ever need.”

The quiet that followed wasn’t empty—it was full, brimming with everything neither of you needed to say. The softness in his gaze mirrored the ache in your chest, a warmth that spread through your limbs as his hands slipped to your thighs, holding you steady as you shifted slightly in his lap.

Christmas wasn’t about the tree, the lights, or anything outside this moment—it was in the way he held you, in the way his breath mingled with yours, in the way his touch lingered on your skin as if to remind you that here, in his arms, was exactly where you belonged.

[lechrts]

Sweet Tea. ✷ Lando Norris

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: When Lando tries to find forgiveness after an argument through acts of service.

Word Count: 1.3k

Disclaimer/s: established rel, fluff, kinda angst…. ish.

Vera’s Voice! Hi. this was fun to write :3 hope u enjoy mama ^_^ the lando oneshot grind doesn’t stop.

The hum of the heating system filled the stillness of the apartment. It wasn’t exactly peaceful—more like tense, suffocating, and heavy.

You sat curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders, your phone glowing faintly in your hands. You scrolled aimlessly, not really reading anything, but it was better than thinking about the argument that had left you and Lando in this standoff.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him pacing between the living room and the kitchen. He wasn’t saying anything—he hadn’t since you’d gone quiet—but his restless movements said enough.

He hated silence, especially when it was because of you.

The fight hadn’t started as anything serious, just a playful back-and-forth after a long day. But his teasing had crossed a line without him realizing it, and you’d snapped.

“You don’t need to be so dramatic about everything,” He said, half-laughing, when you’d voiced your frustrations about something that had been bothering you for days.

The words had stung, lodging themselves deep in your chest. You didn’t know if it was the dismissive tone, the laughter, or just the stress of the week catching up to you, but you’d shut down completely after that.

No sarcastic comeback, no explanation, just cold, steely silence.

And Lando?

He hadn’t done much to help himself. Instead of apologizing, he’d groaned, muttering, “Oh, come on, don’t do this,” as if your feelings were an inconvenience to him.

That was what had really sealed it.

So now you were here, refusing to meet his eyes, letting the silence stretch longer and longer.

From the kitchen came the faint clink of dishes. You glanced up briefly, noticing Lando hunched over the counter, his brows furrowed in concentration.

He was making something.

But what?

You couldn’t quite tell.

You wanted to stay mad—wanted him to feel the weight of how much his words had hurt—but curiosity gnawed at you.

Lando wasn’t exactly a chef, and him fumbling around in the kitchen was unusual.

A few minutes later, his footsteps padded softly toward you. He stopped just in front of the couch, hesitating before placing a small plate on the coffee table.

Beside it, a steaming mug of tea.

You looked down, your stomach tightening at the sight. It was your favorite treat, carefully prepared just the way you liked it.

The tea even seemed to have the right amount of honey—he must’ve measured it out because he always teased you for how sweet you liked it.

“Here,” Hr said quietly, his voice almost timid. “I, uh… I thought you might be hungry.”

You stared at the plate for a moment, then looked up at him. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, his lips pressed into a tight line.

“I’m sorry,” He added quickly, before you could say anything. “I was a complete ass earlier. I didn’t mean to brush you off like that—I wasn’t thinking.”

You didn’t say anything, though the sincerity in his voice made your chest ache. Instead, you reached for the mug, cradling it in your hands.

Lando shifted awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure whether to stay or give you space.

After a moment, he sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. “I don’t like seeing you upset. Especially when it’s my fault. I know I messed up, but I hate this—” He gestured vaguely between the two of you, “—this cold shoulder thing. Can we please talk?”

You finally set the mug back down, fixing him with a pointed look. “Talk? Like how we talked earlier and you laughed at me?”

He winced, guilt flashing across his face. “I didn’t mean it like that. I thought I was being funny, but I wasn’t. I didn’t realize how much it was bothering you. That’s on me.”

“You made me feel stupid for being upset,” You said quietly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “Like I was overreacting.”

His expression softened, and he dropped onto the couch beside you, careful to keep some space between you. “You weren’t overreacting,” He said, his voice low. “I swear, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I was just being an idiot. You know I’m terrible at serious conversations.”

“That’s not an excuse, Lando.”

“I know,” He said quickly. “I know. I’m not trying to make excuses. I just… I’m sorry. Really. I should’ve listened instead of brushing you off.”

You let out a soft sigh, your fingers tightening around the edge of the blanket. Part of you wanted to hold onto the anger, to make him sweat a little longer, but the vulnerability in his voice was breaking down your walls.

Lando reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against your knee. “I’ll do better,” he sighed, his voice almost a whisper. “I don’t want to make you feel like that again.”

You glanced at him, taking in the way his brows were knit together, the way his lips were pressed into a thin line. He looked genuinely remorseful, and your heart softened despite yourself.

“I just want you to take me seriously,” You said quietly.

“I will,” he promised, his hand gently resting on your knee now. “I mean it.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, finally, you let out a small sigh. “Okay.”

His head shot up, hope sparking in his eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you repeated, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “But don’t think this means you’re off the hook.”

He grinned, leaning in slightly. “Noted.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull away when he shifted closer, his hand sliding up to your cheek. “I’m sorry again.” He muttered as he shifted even closer.

You didn’t answer, but the way you leaned into him was all the permission he needed. His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, then firmer as you kissed him back.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Are you still mad at me?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “When am I never mad at you.” Rolling your eyes as you slightly joked. “But, seriously. I am still a little mad.”

He grinned, pressing another quick kiss to your temple before pulling you into a warm hug. “I’ll take what I can get,” he murmured, his arms wrapping tightly around you.

As you leaned into his embrace, the weight of the argument melted away, leaving only the warmth of his love—and the promise to do better.

likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated!!! ^_^ follow me for more & ask if you’d like to be apart of my tag list!!!!

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress

[solxamber]

Hey, saw the holiday event and wanted to request something <3

Diasomnia, 9, comedy:

'this isn't what it looks like'

Thank you so much!! Love your writing and hope you have a good holiday 🤍

thank you <3 hope you have a good holiday too <3

Knightmare Scenario || Sebek Zigvolt ft. Malleus

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "This isn't what it looks like" ; Genre: Comedy

Sebek had been glaring at you for a solid ten minutes.

You could feel it—burning, unrelenting, like the sun itself had decided to manifest as an overly passionate half-fae with a volume problem.

“Sebek,” you finally said, sighing. “Is there a reason you look like you’re trying to drill a hole into my skull with your eyes?”

He jabbed an accusatory finger at you. “YOU! You have overstepped your bounds!”

“…What?”

“I knew it!” Sebek declared dramatically, puffing out his chest. “You’re trying to take MY place as Master Malleus’s loyal knight!”

“Excuse me?!” you squawked.

“You’re always by his side,” Sebek continued, his voice growing louder with each syllable. “Walking with him, talking with him—plotting, no doubt, to overthrow my rightful position!”

You blinked. “Sebek, that is absolutely not—”

“Do not LIE to me!” Sebek shouted, stomping a foot like an indignant toddler. “I see the way you smile at him!”

You threw your hands up in exasperation. “This isn’t what it looks like!”

“Oh? And what does it look like, then?” Sebek demanded.

“It looks like we’re friends!” you snapped.

Sebek reeled back as if you’d just slapped him with a fish.

“You—you dare to call Master Malleus your friend?!”

Malleus, who had been quietly processing the conversation, suddenly perked up. “Friendship? Did you say friendship? Are we friends?”

“Yes, we’re friends!” you cried in exasperation.

Malleus’s eyes widened, and a smile so radiant it could rival the moon broke across his face. “What a joyous declaration! I have achieved friendship!”

“Malleus, please stop basking in the moment and help me explain this to Sebek!” you begged.

Sebek’s jaw was basically on the floor. “M-Master Malleus, you can’t possibly—!”

“Oh, but I do,” Malleus said, his grin widening. “Friendship is a rare and precious thing, Sebek.”

Sebek turned back to you, his face a mix of betrayal and fury. “You’ve bewitched him!”

“Oh, for the love of—” you groaned, rubbing your temples. “I didn’t bewitch anyone, Sebek!”

Sebek’s expression shifted, his usual righteous indignation giving way to something far more volatile. It almost looked like… jealousy?

“Wait a second,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “You’re not jealous of me being friends with Malleus, are you?”

“HOW DARE YOU?!” Sebek roared, his face turning beet red.

“Ha! Nailed it!” you said, pointing at him triumphantly.

Sebek sputtered incoherently, looking like he was about to spontaneously combust.

Malleus, meanwhile, was watching the scene unfold with great amusement. “Sebek, it seems your emotions are running high,” he said, sounding far too entertained. “Perhaps you should take a moment to reflect.”

“I NEED NO MOMENTS!” Sebek barked, his voice echoing across the courtyard. “I am perfectly composed, unlike this scheming human!”

“Scheming? I’m not the one throwing a tantrum because Malleus likes me better,” you said, grinning.

Sebek looked like he was about to lunge at you when Malleus placed a calming hand on his shoulder. “Peace, Sebek,” he said, his tone soothing. “There’s no need for such hostility among friends.”

“Friends?!” Sebek screeched.

“Yes,” Malleus said, nodding sagely. “You and the prefect could also become friends.”

Sebek’s face twisted into an expression of pure horror. “NEVER!”

You smirked. “Aw, don’t be like that, Sebek. We’d make great friends.”

“I WOULD RATHER SWALLOW A BAG OF NAILS!” Sebek roared before storming off, his cape billowing dramatically behind him.

Malleus chuckled as he watched him go. “Ah, Sebek. So passionate, as always.”

You shook your head, still grinning. “That guy’s gonna give himself a stroke one day.”

“Perhaps,” Malleus said, smiling. “But I must admit, his devotion is admirable.”

“Sure,” you said. “If by admirable, you mean exhausting.”

Malleus chuckled again, his eyes twinkling. “Indeed.”

Masterlist

[henneseyhoe]

Lights, Camera, Action.

Terry Richmond x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: light smacking, fingering, brief PinV, unprotected (wrap it uhp!), daddy kink, sir kink, squirting, head (m receiving), Pornstar!Terry, dirty talk, slightly unedited, short. i think das it.

SUMMARY: The camera loooves you, and Terry gets all your good sides.

✮✮✮✮

If it wasn’t for the cameras, she probably would have fell in love with the man.

“Look real pretty for the cameras, baby. They ain’t watching for nothing” He whispered into her ear softly while pushing into her. The mic most likely didn’t catch it, but she caught all of it. Every dirty, nasty thing he spoke into her ear, guiding her with how to look, what to do, how to feel. He did it so well she almost forgot this was just work, he made her feel like a rookie in just this thirty minutes of filming.

She turned her head to the professional camera pointed at her face, her moans only heightening as he folded her legs closer to the beds sheets, her heels pointed to the ceiling and toes curling when he bottomed out. “Now smile. Show them how much you love getting fucked like a complete slut.”

Fuck…

Sweat dripped down the back of her neck as she stared into the camera lens, the reflection of her looking back and showing how much of a complete mess she was, most of her lipstick smudged across her lips. He wouldn’t even allow her to wipe her face. The messier, the better, he said.

“You gonna cum on daddies dick?”

“Y-yes!”

“Yes what?” His hips pressed against hers, skin flushed against each other as he well groomed pubic area met her clit.

“Yes, Sir!”

He had gotten so deep that she could feel every twitch from him inside of her stomach, the movement teetering her off the edge of her orgasm just a little more than before. He wasn’t far behind either. With every clench, he prepared himself mentally for having to do another take because he came too early, leaving the director to instruct him to get himself up again after the overstimulation period had subsided.

“Cut!”

✮✮✮✮

“Such a good girl. You can take it just a little deeper”

Terry held the back of her head with a steady hand, sure to push her head back down whenever he felt her attempting to come up for air. She heard the cue from behind the camera to give them a good shot, making her open her eyes and look for the recording lens.

A camera snapped pictures, close ups of her mouth wrapped around his thick dick, her pussy dripping with arousal, and her erect clit peaking from underneath her clitoral hood kept to be stored in a harddrive later and uploaded to a dirty site with premium content.

The flash showed all of the glistening sweat on her body and the outline of his dick deep down her throat. It was hard for her to even lift her head with more than enough inches down her throat and him standing above her wasn’t helping. The constant sensation to gag poked at her reflexes until she couldn’t refuse anymore.

Popping off of him with a gasp, spit fell from her chin and onto the hardwood floor that had her wishing she put a pillow down for her knees. He chuckles darkly, pleased with her attempt to keep all of him down.

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl. Using that mouth for something so much better than running it. Fuck, you look so pretty like this” He praised as his hand lightly taps on her wet cheek, smudging the blush she applied earlier.

He wanted so badly to just shove his fingers down her throat and make her gag again, but they had already gone off script enough for that day. He’d just have to get her number for a more private session.

“Good girls get prizes, don’t they?”

“Yes, Sir” She nods.

“You wanna cum don’t you?”

“Yes, please”

Without another question, he lifts her by the waist and effortlessly tosses her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, the heels she wore clicking together as she settled across his broad shoulder.

With him now sat on a couch, she bent over his knee like he told her to and lifts her own skirt while Terry gestures the camera towards him.

“Look at that…” He slides his fingers between her lips and spreads them for the camera to see, her clit jumping at the feeling.

“Wet ass pussy” A loud smack sounded off in the room, her back arching in before quickly regaining its original form before she earned herself a harder smack.

Her ass bounced back like waves against his hand, one of them squishing her cheeks as his other hand slide further between her legs, the pads of his fingers teasing at her clit before he sunk two fingers into her.

Off bat, he started with no easy pace, his fingers curling up to her gspot as a long string of moans left her pretty little mouth. The moans were broken up into sections, sounding as if someone was shaking her by the shoulders; it was really just the effect of his wrist colliding with her ass.

“Wanna cum- Can I please?” She whined helplessly, trying so hard not to let her thighs close of him or for her to roll right off of his lap. She couldn’t even begin care about the cameras anymore.

“Wet it up, baby” He demanded a response from her body as his fingers pressed up against her favorite spot, wiggling until she clenched so hard he no longer had room to move. Her legs shook violently and her thighs finally locked together, gushing of her wetness soaking his entire lap and the couch.

“Uh-huh, look at you still following orders” He smirked and pried her thighs apart again, laying smacks on her clip to beckon a stronger orgasm to her, which she got. As his hand made contact, water splashed up from her middle.

“Look at that mess you made, baby”

Her upper body slumped down onto the couches cushions. He was proud of his work, fixing her up to sit properly in his lap after pulling his fingers out of her and bringing them to her lips.

“Now open, look into the camera, and clean me up”

✮✮✮✮

💌-IM BACK 😜 this was originally supposed to be for lewis but fuck it we ball am i right????

[kitkat13001]

𝄞 𓍢ִ໋ ✮⋆˙ 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚞𝚜

⤷ tomura shigaraki / tenko shimura x reader

⤷ au where shigaraki grows up normal, emo loser neighbor pining tomu, rambunctious reader, inspired by “me & my dog” and “not strong enough” by boygenius, you can all thank kisa for this

tomura wishes he was as brave as you. 

you always say whatever you’re thinking, no matter what it is or who’s around or whether or not it makes sense. 

you always know what you want, even when you don’t. tomura never knows what he wants, even when he does. 

it’s always been like this, ever since you were kids. you talk, you yell, you joke, and tomura listens. he runs after you when you take off sprinting. he sits you on his bed and puts bandaids over the scrapes on your knees after you’d tripped from running too fast, from pushing another kid over on the playground.

tomura wishes he was more like you. he wishes he’d speak up when other kids made fun of him. he wishes you didn’t have to fight his battles for him. 

he spends a lot of his time wishing things, staring up at his ceiling fan like it’ll magically make these things come true. 

you don’t wish for things. in tomura’s eyes, you reach out and bend reality to your every whim. things work out for you like that, he thinks. you mold the universe with your bare hands and wring every drop of life from it until you get exactly what you want. he admires your tenacity, he really does. he just wishes it would rub off on him. 

you’re sleeping over at his house again. it was raining when school let out, and you had got into another fight again. he’d noticed the way you winced on the way home as the water ran over the raw scrapes on your elbows and knees. so he took a page out of your book and spoke up. 

he feels stupid bringing it up, insisting you stay because of the rain like you don’t live just a few houses down. he’s eternally grateful you don’t bring this fact up and instead shrug and agree to stay the night. 

it’s not the first time, and it’s probably not the last. you follow him in, kick your shoes off at the door and stand dripping in his bedroom’s doorway as he rummages around for spare clothes for you. 

he turns his back while you change, and then you both sit on his bed in silence. there’s been some strange tense energy in the air all day. you’ve been quieter than usual. and tomura’s never been good at filling the silence. 

he’s grateful for a split second when he hears you speak. 

“tomura, do you like me?”

and then it hits him. god, he could just die. 

“how do you do that?” he asks in an embarrassed sputter before he can stop himself. 

“do what?”

“just say things like that!”

you blink at him. “like what?”

“like you don’t think about it a million times before you say it.”

“i don’t?” you tell him, and he wonders how someone can look so beautifully confused. 

tomura buries his burning face in his hands, unable to even look at you. 

your hands are soft when you pull his arms away, soothing away the itch on his skin before it forms. 

“tomura, why didn’t you ever tell me anything?” you ask him quietly, eyes like a campfire in the night boring straight through his own. 

“i can’t…i’m not…” he’s scrambling for purchase on reality now. you’re so close he can feel the warmth coming off your face, smell your faint shampoo and perfume. “i wish i was more like you,” he whispers finally. “i’m not good with words, and i…”

he trails off and you shake your head a little. “tomura, i don’t like you because you’re like or not like me. i like you because you’re you.”

every time he thinks you can’t possibly surprise him more, you do. your hands are warm against his where you’re holding them in your lap. 

he wants to ask you why, how, why, why why? but he doesn’t. he just lets his eyes close when he sees you lean forward a little to kiss him. 

and then, nothing. he opens his eyes after a minute and you’re standing there, barely an inch from his face. your lips almost brush his when you speak. 

“nuh-uh. if you want me to kiss you, say it. tell me you want me.”

“i want you,” his whispers immediately, like a prayer. almost against his will, just because you told him. 

so you smile, huff a little, and lean in to kiss him just like he’d asked. 

maybe he can be brave, tomura thinks. at least, with you by his side. 

icons from pinterest (not mine) and divider by @/cafekitsune — this has me feeling some typa wayyyyyy ugh loser bf shiggy has a VICE GRIPPP on me. anyways this is dedicated to kisa (@/shigarakislaughter) and their very big big brain, thanks for putting me on boygenius 🫶🫶🫶

[tsukuhoe]

10. please please please

from behind the mixing desk, choso watched you intently. his fingers hovered over the soundboard, ready to adjust levels at a moment’s notice. 

“y/n,” the brunette said, his voice crackling through the intercom. “wanna take it from the bridge again? you’re almost there— just lean into it.” whenever he works, choso’s like a whole new person. more serious, more focused, more professional. 

you nodded, determination flashing in your eyes. you took a deep breath as the instrumental track began to play in your headphones, the rich swell of strings building into a steady rhythm. your voice was raw and soulful when you sang, each word dripping with emotion. choso nodded along, tweaking the EQ slightly as you hit a particularly powerful note. as the song reached its peak, your voice cracked ever so slightly. 

“fuck,” you muttered, pulling off the headphones. 

“it’s okay,” choso said, stepping into the booth. “you’re pushing too hard on the outro… let it breathe. remember, it’s not about being perfect— it’s about feeling it.” 

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “i know. i just… i want this to be right. it’s a bit personal.”

choso placed his hand on your shoulder. “that’s exactly why it’ll be great! just sing it for yourself this time.”

you nodded, letting his words sink in. with a deep breath, you slid the headphones back on and faced the mic. choso returned to his seat, adjusted a few knobs, and gave you a thumbs-up. the track started again, softer this time. your voice was vulnerable yet strong as you sang. as you finished, the studio fell silent, your heart racing.

the brunette leaned into the mic, a slow smile spreading across his face. “that’s it, y/n. that’s the one.”

you grinned, the tension in your shoulders melting away. “really?”

“really. it was perfect.”

you ran out the booth, excitedly jumping towards him and pulling him into a warm unexpected hug. choso’s stomach did a flip. his mind racing. was this real? should he hug you back? would that be weird? 

“thank you, cho…” you said softly, your cheek resting against his shoulder and eyes welling up with tears. the brunette blinked, finally letting his arms rise to lightly return the hug.

“are you alright, y/n?” 

you didn’t expect to start tearing up at the question, however, it’s been a rough week with the rumours of sukuna being spotted with his ex all while being in a new environment filming for the first time. not only that, but the recent spike in popularity from your new single has been overwhelming. you couldn’t help but start tearing up in choso’s embrace; presence was so comforting. 

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands still resting lightly on his shoulders. “yeah. sorry for getting emotional… it’s been a long week.” you chuckled, wiping the small tears that formed in your eyes. “oh, by the way, i forgot to tell you but i got permission for us to use special grade’s music production rooms— access to them 24/7.” 

choso’s eyes widened and lit up, excited like a puppy seeing a treat. “really?! wait y/n, seriously? that’s awesome!” 

“right, baby! you deserved a reward— so i bargained with the management when they discussed the scream reboot.” 

“thank you so so much! i could not be any happier, oh my god… i can’t believe it! all the new equipment, the space… i mean, can you imagine the quality of their mics? we could make so much more higher quality songs and…” a soft smile tugged at your lips. his voice rose and fell, his excitement weaving through every syllable. 

seconds later, the door swung open, revealing yuji, your producer’s younger brother, wearing a flour-dusted apron and an exuberant smile. 

“choso! y/n!” the pink-haired boy exclaimed, opening the door as the scent of vanilla and cinnamon enveloped the room like a cozy blanket. “the band and i just finished making cinnamon rolls, and we wanted to bring you two some! i’m not interrupting anything, right?” 

“omg thank you so much yuji! that’s so sweet of you!” you smiled giving him a peck on the cheek, as he handed you a plate with two freshly baked sweet rolls. 

choso never wanted to be his brother so badly until this very moment. 

album bonus tracks: — chosoy/n moments omgeee 🥹 — y/n in this chapter was having a panic attack btw if u didn't notice lol — (based on irl experiences when i had one in hs bc of my ex ꃋᴖꃋ) — yuji is so precious omg (adopt him rn!!!) ⋮ MASTERLIST  ֹ⋮  PREVIOUS  ⋮  ֹNEXT  ⋮

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[chris-prank]

A desperate yandere in your area

Chapter 3 : A new pet

Sub pathetic yandere x GN reader

Previous chapter

(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)

CW: NSFW, praise kink, teasing, porn with plot, petplay, obsessive behaviour, yandere, mention of stalking, giving head/eating out, dom reader, receiving reader, bottoming reader and use of protection

(Even if the reader is bottoming at some point I made it vague enough so you can imagine which whole is being used.)

Word count: Over 3K

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

As stupid as it was, you didn’t call the police.

There you were, sitting in front of your phone, debating if you were making the right choice or not. You finally took it and called the coffee shop, cutely named “Brioche d'Or”. You jumped in your seat when a cheery voice answered.

“You have called Brioche d’Or! I’m Pierre, how can I help you today?”

“Can I speak to Jacce…please?”

“Yes absolutely, could I get your name?”

You told the employee your name and heard shuffling on the other end of the line, before you could faintly hear him say “You’re more popular than I thought!” You had to suppress a chuckle, because by that time, Jacce had taken the phone from Pierre. 

“H-hey, you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes, at what time could you come to my place today?”

Silence fell on the other line, except for his heavy breathing. Even if you weren’t in front of him, it's like you could feel the warmth of his breath through the handset.

“Is 3 pm alright?” his voice sounded choked, as if he had runned out of air. 

You hummed in response and swiftly told him goodbye, hanging up before he could answer. Your face was burning hot and your heart was hammering in your chest. You looked at the time. You had five hours until he arrived. 

***

The moment you heard knocking on the door you took a deep breath. The man standing at your doorstep was towering over you with the most nervous, but strangely excited, expression on his face. You didn't even give him the chance to open his mouth as you pulled him inside. When the front door was shut close, Jacce leaned in on you– expecting you to kiss him. You awkwardly turned your head to the side while pressing your hands on his chest to prevent him from getting closer. He tilted his head, confused, but you could see some arousal in them, surely due to your touch.

“Let's go to the living room.” You whispered, feeling like your lungs were crushed by the proximity. 

As you sat down on the couch, Jacce remained standing, giving you quick glances as if he was waiting for you to say something. 

“You can sit, you know.”

To your surprise, he sat on the ground instead of taking a place beside you or in any other chair available. You could feel your lower half warm up instantly at his actions. You scolded yourself mentally for being turned on by a simple action, but it didn’t prevent you from imagining the most blasphemous scenarios. You cough the thoughts away before opening your mouth again. 

“Ok so, I thought about you becoming my… you know…”

It was out of the question for you to say “pet” or “servant”, this whole situation was already lewd enough with him kneeled down before you. Luckily Jacce nodded without saying the quiet part out loud. 

“I guess it was pretty obvious since I invited you here… " You laughed awkwardly as you felt the heat rise up to your face. 

In the meanwhile, Jacce kept staring up at you with this submissive look, accentuated by his down turned eyes. He was really making it hard for you to think straight. It was almost like his body language was screaming at you to kiss him already. 

"Does that mean I can… live with you from now on?" He asked, tilting his head. 

You froze at the question. Even if this guy had clearly shown that he wished to be yours, you didn’t realize it meant living together as well. You blamed your touch depraved self for not thinking any of this through. 

"Oh em… I didn’t think about that part… Don’t you have an apartment or something?”

“I have a house actually, but it’s ok… I want to be with you.”

You look at him stunned, how could he talk about leaving his house behind like it was nothing!? Especially in this economy! Maybe he was hoping for you to move in with him one day, but you had other things to worry about for now. 

“I guess you could live here if you promise to do what I say."

Jacce nodded with clear eagerness, and you swore you saw his pupils dilate as he spoke again. “I p-promise! I’ll do anything just to stay by your side. " 

As threatening as that last part sounded, you felt honored that someone would go that far just for you. You also mentally winced, you had no time to unpack all the childhood trauma that could have led you to think this way. 

“So no more stalking if I tell you to?”

He seemed to ponder at first, but ultimately agreed, “I won’t need to anyway since I am yours now, but y-yay I’ll stop.” 

“And no more secretly touching yourself while watching me?”

He shook his head up and down quickly. You could feel the lust and impatience taking control of him the more time he was spending in your presence, his entire face getting flustered by the second. You wanted the same thing then him at that moment, but it was crucial to establish rules and you had one more in mind. 

"Before settling this, I need to make something very clear. I know you want to pleasure me and all, but I don’t want you to force yourself when you’re not in the mood. "

"But—"

"Ah ah. No but, If I’m not one hundred percent sure you want it to, we won’t do anything. No arguing with that. Say that you will always be honest."

Despite Jacce being visibly shocked, not understanding why you wouldn’t want to use him without his input, a part of him was touched. If that wasn't proof of your love for him, he didn’t know what else could prove it. 

“I will… always be honest about my mood…” He said slowly, almost like a child being forced to admit a fault they committed. 

“Good and now that’s cleared, do you want to continue where we left off last—.”

“YES!”

You were caught off guard by the sudden rise of his voice, but you were more surprised by his lack of action. You expected Jacce to jump on you like a dog in heat, but no, instead he was twitching his hips forward into the air with his tongue slightly sticking out. He had been a well behaved boy ever since he got here now that you think about it. He certainly deserved a treat. 

You started unzipping your pants as the kneeled man watched your every move, his body trembling in anticipation. You took your pants off, followed by your underwear, grinning at the little whimper he let out at the sight of your private parts. You tapped your thighs, and the man immediately crawled to settle between your legs, licking his lips. You couldn’t help but grin at the lewd display.

"Pleaseee can I lick?" He whined as his gaze was still fixated on your arousal. 

A soft yes escaped your mouth, as you prepared yourself mentally. He leaned forward and took your core into his mouth, slowly swirling his tongue around while his hands caressed your thighs.  

“Good boy.” You cooed. 

Jacce moaned and continued to move his head eagerly, covering every bit with saliva. He felt a wave of ecstasy wash over him as he tasted you on his tongue. His free hand reached down to pull his cock out of his pants, making it stand tall against his clothes stomach. The second he was done, Jacce’s hands went to cup your thighs again, gripping the soft flesh possessively. He was using his mouth like a pro, making you wonder if he had done this before or if he just… practiced with toys.

After a while of him servicing you like an obedient little puppy, you couldn’t hold back the burning desire residing in your guts anymore. 

It was too much. He was too much.

So you placed your hands behind his head, slowly taking a fist full of his hair. The soft gesture made Jacce moan between your legs, thinking you were petting him as a result of his devotion. If only he knew that it was hiding a less innocent intention. 

"Jacce I really need to… "

He seemed to finally understand what you were trying to do since his grip on you disappeared and he stopped moving his head. Jacce stared up at you through his eyelashes, waiting for you to sink into your desires. You leisurely started to move your hips so as not to startle him, but quickly picked up the pace. The man under you kept making loud sounds of pleasure despite your roughness. The vibration on your sensitive skin stimulated your arousal even more. Even with the tears forming in the corner of his eyes, Jacce’s cock couldn’t stop leaking. If his mouth wasn’t occupied right now, he would have gone on and on about how much he loved you. 

While lost in the overwhelming sensations, your mind was suddenly reminded to check on the guy choking under you. You swiftly looked down with your eyelids halfway closed. If anything, his rolled back eyes and the fact that he was still trying to touch you in other ways were good indicators that he was enjoying this as much as you were. In spite of his visible enthusiasm, you pulled away to let him breathe, which made him whine in disappointment. Now that his head was out of the way, you were also able to see his swollen dick pulsing like crazy, precum oozing out of it to complete the look. Knowing he could get this hard by simply servicing you was making him even more attractive. 

"Look at you… not touching yourself because I didn’t allow you too. " You answer between shortness of breath, “I think you deserve to… to feel good with me now.” 

***

You lowered yourself until the tip of his glans brushed against your hole. You wrapped your fingers at the base of his cock and patted it against your entrance. Jacce winced at the contact, or in better terms, the painful lack of it. 

“Please please please, let… let me be inside. Pleaseee.” He begged, trying his hardest to keep his hips down. 

“You need to be patient, Jacce.” You reminded him while ignoring his pleas. 

You weren’t much better to be honest. The thought of fucking him stupid clouded your mind since that time you gave him a hand job. Your self control was all for show since you didn’t want to look like a desperate pervert in front of him. That was his job. 

After some more teasing, you finally sunk down onto his dick, gritting your teeth as it stretched you out. The both of you let out moans at the pleasurable sensation. The feeling of his hard cock inside you was already overwhelming all your senses. 

“Does it Ngh– hurt? Do you w-want… to stop?”

Despite his worried tone, his facial expression and heavy breathing gave away how blissed out he was. He also kept making small whines ever since his cock was surrounded by your warmth, not to mention that his cock also pulsated non stop against your walls. 

“I’m ok. You're just… thick.” You answered vaguely, too embarrassed to admit how he was stuffing you up perfectly. 

Pride overtook him, knowing that his dick would definitely grace all of your sensitive spots. That’s what he was made for, to be used by you until he breaks and to be an obedient pet that feels fulfilled by making you happy. 

Only when you felt your insides adjusted to his shape did you raise your hips slowly, before dropping yourself with all your weight. You kept that pace, all the while admiring his face twist in pleasure. 

“I’m yours!" He cried out instinctively in a quivering voice, "a-all yours!"

To keep yourself bouncing rhythmically, one of your hands went to his shoulder. You cupped his face with the other, gently caressing his cheek to compensate how ruthless you were with his cock. Jacce looked at you through his messy hair and fuck he had the most dazed expression. He couldn’t help but whimper loudly and nuzzle his head into your touch. You expected him to say something again as he opened his mouth, but instead he started sucking on your thumb as he kept up your gaze.

“Such a good puppy for me.” You praised while bouncing faster. 

The mess under you moaned and gasped as new waves of pleasure hit his nervous system. The sound of your ass hitting the flesh of his thigh became louder from your swift movements, almost overshadowing the cute sounds Jacce couldn’t keep to himself. He had stopped sucking your finger, to your disappointment, but it looked like he was actually trying to say something now. You leaned closer, making sure to let your warm breath graze his skin. 

“Come on, I know you can use your words.”

The mess under you made multiple whines in response. You were so cruel to force him to speak like a proper human being when his brain was clearly far too gone to create any coherent sentences. You glanced down and saw how hard he was clenching his hands, both resting onto the soft material of the sofa. So you slowed down a bit, allowing him to speak his mind. Jacce swallowed the drool that had accumulated in his mouth, before answering as best as he could. 

“If you go Mngh— this fa-fast, I won’t… Ah ah… be able to keep it in like a good bo— Unff.” His breath had drastically quickened, confirming his complaints. 

“So sensitive.” You teased, while sneaking a hand under his shirt to go play with his nipples. 

“Aargh— mmff!” Jacce leaned up to trap you in a strong embrace, preventing you from stimulating him further, “w-would be too m-much.” He sobbed into the fabric of your clothes. 

Taking pity on him, and totally not turned on even more by his behavior, you wiggled your hand out of between your chests and cupped the back of his head. Jacce's body and grip eased up as the gentle tingle of your touch took its effects on him. 

“Thank’you…” He muttered in that whiny tone that made you go crazy. 

“Now, how about I let you choose the rhythm?” You grin mischievously, knowing the kind of reaction it would get out of him. Just as you expected, Jacce’s eyes opened wide and you could see a glint of excitement in them. 

“A-are you sure? I… I really can?” 

You hummed in response while guiding one of his hands to your waist. To feel his trembling touch against your exposed skin made your stomach twist in that familiar urge to turn him into a crying mess. But no. You wanted his first time with you to be more relaxed. The humiliation of making him cum prematurely would come later, if he’s on board with it, which you're pretty sure he would. 

Meanwhile, your puppy didn’t need more for his fingers to dig into your flesh and his hips to tentatively roll up to meet with your pelvis. Jacce’s eyes closed from the spark of pleasure, but only for him to force them open so he could admire your complexion. He had spent enough time imagining your face alone in his room, and now that he had the real deal in front of him he was going to enjoy every second of it. 

“Lov’you… M-mine…ngh—” He muttered in a whiny voice, only to repeat mine over and over again, louder each time. 

You couldn’t tell if it was a statement on his part or if he was looking for your approval. Either way you found the contrast between his possessive words and his pathetic attitude endearing. He could say that as much as he wanted, but you both knew that, at the end of the day, he was more yours than anything else. 

Jacce started grinding up on your ass desperately, as if you were a magnet he couldn’t pull away from. His brain couldn’t think of anything else than the ecstasy coursing through his body every time his shaft was engulfed inside you once more. For someone who wanted you to go slow in the fear of cumming prematurely, he was going strangely fast now. Both of your hands grasped at his shoulder as not to go flying off because of the unfaltering movements of his hips. It would undeniably leave marks, especially with how your fingernails were pressed into his skin, not that he minded. It would be concrete proof that he was yours and that this wasn’t just a hyper-realistic wet dream. 

Jacce’s body shuddered uncontrollably as he tried his best to not cum right then and there. He needed to be a good boy for you. Meaning he needed your permission to cum, especially since it would be his first time with you. But more importantly, he needed you to climax first. To think he didn’t get the chance to taste it on his tongue earlier made him pout for a second. He was more than grateful that you wanted him to feel good too, but still, your pleasure was his priority!

“I-I need ngff… your c-cum Ah ah— p-please cum with me!”

Lucky for him, you were also close to your breaking point, the feeling in your guts ready to explode into a million pieces. 

“Yes puppy, l-let’s cum together.” You whisper back with a breathless voice.

One of your hands left his post to touch yourself down there, as best as you could anyway considering the way you were bouncing up and down on his cock. Your insides instantly tightened around him as sensation, pulling new sounds out of him. It was just the right push to tension to finally let go. 

Your body froze, and you had him in a vice grip, his dick and his shoulder alike. With your head thrown back, a shrill moan escaped your lips. This was the only signal Jacce needed to finish as well, his hips snapping back in short but swift motions. He emptied every last drop of his cum inside the rubber condom. His last moan, if it could even be qualified as such, was mixed with the start of your name, but ended with a pathetic whine. 

As Jacce came back to his senses, he could feel an uncontrollable smile forming on his lips. It was the first time you came because of him and he was feeling euphoric. Now that he got a taste of being the source of your guttural desires, there was no way he would ever leave you. He could feel his heart beating drum in his ears as his infatuation for you grew exponentially. He placed lazy kisses on your collar, his way of hiding his manic grin, and mumbled words of love. 

The wet sensation on your skin grounded you back to reality as you leaned into him. Never in your life you thought you could have the opportunity to make a grown man submit to you like this and, despite the unorthodox circumstances that brought you together, you were truly satisfied. As the aftershock of tiredness hit you, Jacce nuzzled his head into your neck, like a dog wanting to be petted for doing a trick right. 

“I’m… really yours now?” He said in a hush tone. You had noticed that every time he was in a more submissive headspace, his voice would have a whiny quality to it. Not to the length of being annoying, but just enough to sound cuter than his usual raspy voice. 

You lifted your hand to rub his back in circles.

“Yes.” 

Jacce moaned happily in response, leaning his heavy self more onto you.

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So so sorry for the late update! I hope it was worth the long wait!

Link for the chapter on Ao3

Also no drawing for this chapter! 😔 Maybe I’ll post a drawing based on something that happen in this chapter later on

[revelboo]

Aw, I love how you write the buggy boy Waspinator <3

He’s puppy. Ugly puppy.

Worker Bee Pt 9

Waspinator x Reader

• “Please, put me down.” Surprised at how calm your voice is considering you’d just heard your wet towel hit the floor and your clingy, alien bestie has you plastered against him. Those purple optics just stare down at you as his mandibles flex. And you wait for the inevitable ‘why.’ Because anytime you ask him to do anything he doesn’t want to do, it’s his go to. That much you’ve figured out. “Humans don’t like being naked around strangers,” you add trying to answer the question before he can even ask. Not sure if modesty actually means anything to him when he doesn’t wear clothes and has nothing to actually cover up anyway.

• “Not strangers,” he says, slightly hurt. You’re friends. His only friend, the only person he feels like he can trust. Who doesn’t hurt him just because he’s there. “Not strangers.” Aware he’s repeating himself, that the words are more buzz than comprehendible, but it matters. Needs you to understand this. Wings fluttering as he lowers you to your feet and drags you back when you immediately try to escape. Curling himself around you.

• “I didn’t mean it like that,” you groan, trying to push him away as he just clings. Making that pitiful buzzing whine of distress and hugging you to him, still oblivious to the fact that you’re mortified and naked. “We’re friends.” Awkwardly patting him on the head and nearly getting an antenna to the eye when they swing forward to touch your face in return. How is this your life? “Best friends, but humans aren’t usually naked around friends. Modesty. We like wearing clothes.” Exasperated, you almost cry when he lets go and bends to get your towel. Even if his antenna slide against your inner thighs and belly in the process.

• Venting softly as you wrap the bit of cloth about yourself and gently push at him, he doesn’t budge. Knows you want him to leave even though he doesn’t want to. Pretending to not understand, he wanders over to the little shiny box on your dresser and opens it. “Snacks?” And you’re running over, nearly losing your towel again as you take the box away and carry it to the far side of the room.

• “Please don’t eat my jewelry.” He’s just staring at you with confused optics as you set the jewelry box in the closet and start hunting clothes. You’re going to have to start wearing your expensive pieces so he doesn’t sneak them as snacks. Drifting back to the dresser to get underclothes, you’re aware of him just watching. “You’re not going to leave so I can get dressed, are you?” Head tilting and antenna lifting, you decide that’s a no. Of course not. “Okay. Sure.” Grabbing him by the arm, you’re surprised when he lets you turn him around so his back is to you. “Just stay. Don’t move.”

• Humming softly as he listens to the soft sound of cloth sliding, he fidgets his wings and waits. Doesn’t know what this new game is, but hopes he’ll get a reward for being good. Hungry again and knowing he’ll need to return to the Decepticons for energon soon. That thought filling him with anxious energy, because he wants to stay with you where he feels welcome. Maybe not exactly wanted, but tolerated. Aware that he annoys you, but it’s so hard not to constantly reach for you hoping to feel those gentle hands on him. Wanting to be near you, to sit at your feet if that’s all you’ll allow him. Just let him stay. Belong somewhere for the first time ever.

Previous

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 16.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content (somno, intense fingering, edging, overstimulation), soft!dom Dean, also some fluff sprinkled on top of it ♡ (Also! English is not my native language)

Summary: Dean loves to pleasure you when you’re still in your half-sleep, still dozy and all his to play with and to take care of… and this time he coaxes you into taking a little more than usual.

Words: 2,520

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: I skipped the 15th Dec. prompt, since I felt like writing this one first. I'll post the 15th later some time! On another note; I've got a new theme! Made my own lil' banner and such. Hope you like it 😳 ANYWAY

♡ ENJOY THE torturous EDGING MY LITTLE VIXENS ♡

16th Dec. - Roll Over Rule

The sound of Dean’s serene breaths make you tiptoe your way around the bed, careful not to wake him from his deep sleep. It was late, 3AM by now. You’d done some late night research in the War room with Sam, losing track of time as you often did. And you’d basically forced Dean to go to bed a few hours ago since he had stayed up the past nights.

You slowly slip under the covers and still in your movement for a moment – listening for the slow rhythm of his breath. Good, he is still asleep. And he has occupied 3/4rd of the bed as always. Your face softens as your eyes take in his peaceful state; his face pressed into the pillow, his ruffled dark blond hair still a bit damp from the midnight shower. He’s on his stomach, his body twisted in a way that almost makes you wince inwardly. And his left arm stretched out to your bedside. Waiting for you to latch onto it, as it had become a silent habit of yours.

You gently grab his arm and snuggle up to him. Your arms wrap tightly around his muscled upper arm and his forearm gets tucked nicely between your thighs. Dean stirs briefly, mumbling something before he angles his head to rest it against the top of yours. You let out a soft, content sigh, relieved that you didn’t wake him from his dreamless sleep. Soon enough you fall asleep with your limbs entangled with his arm, feeling his comforting warmth and listening to his calming breaths of a slow steady rhythm.

You don’t know how much time has passed, maybe an hour or so, when you feel Dean’s arm slightly twist in your grip. Suddenly his hand slips between your legs to cradle you there with palms up. Your mind’s still too sleepy to fully register what’s going on when a little shiver goes straight to your core. A small, almost imperceptible one. But your body acts on instinct and doesn’t need your mind for what it subconsciously craves. You suddenly let go of his arm and roll over onto your stomach – a sleeping position you usually never take. Unless, it’s meant as a green light for Dean to go on.

Yeah, you had been pretty needy lately. ‘Damn, you’re like a bitch in heat, babe.’ As Dean had commented on it shamelessly. Which not only made you sputter, but had Sam choke on his beer and Cas raise his eyebrows in confusion, secretly wondering why Dean would compare you with a female dog.

Your mind quickly slips back into that cozy sleep – whereas Dean seems to have woken up beside you. He places soft kisses along your neck, his hand gently running up and down your body, occasionally slipping beneath your pyjamas.

Next moment you remember, you feel hot and aroused. Your inner thighs are wet, your clit swollen and you’re panting slightly. And then you feel his two fingers slip inside you, effortlessly parting your slick folds. A meek moan escapes your lips, your mind still somewhere caught between sleep and excited arousal.

“You good, sweetheart..?” you hear his gravel voice next to your ear. You nod, not wanting the pleasure to stop but too sleepy to form any words.

He picks up a tantalizing pace. His small and middle finger pumping inside your dripping wet cunt while his index and middle finger slide along your folds, pinching your clit between them with every thrust. Your moans grow louder and soon turn into needy whimpers, begging him for release.

“Mh? Tell me baby…” your answer once again is a weak, short whimper. A thick haze clouding your sleep-addled mind and ridding you of any capability to form a thought, let alone words. It’s like you’ve been turned into a whimpering, mewling mess – powerless in every form. At this moment you were his entirely. Completely at his mercy. And knowing Dean, you are left with no other option but to take the overwhelming pleasure and to teeter on that torturous edge. Over. And over. And over.

Dean is truly a master in the art of edging. His calloused fingers playing you like it’s child’s play, hitting every spot at the right moment and – to your frustration – changing rhythm and withdrawing them every single time right before you get to fall over the edge. Leaving you mewling desperately, close to tears from the overwhelming built up tension in your core. You cry and pant into the pillow breathless while he starts over with the procedure, denying you the final relief with a cheeky grin of his.

Soon a third finger is jammed into your throbbing cunt. Dean and you groan in harmony when your walls clamp his fingers, pulling them in like they were made for you. He bites back another deep moan before grazing his bottom lip with his teeth. "Damn... sweetheart, you're killin' me here..."

Once he rode you through another round of edging by switching between the numbers of fingers every now and then, you quickly adjust to the new size.

When Dean notices how his fingers slide in and out so effortlessly, an idea forms in his head. He suddenly presses his lips against the shell of your ear. His voice a husky whisper, gentle and yet demanding, “Show me how deep you want it.”

You don’t even think, your body acting on its own. It’s like he’s got you under some magic spell, the relentless working of his fingers keeping you spellbound. His hand stills while you buck your hips against his hand. Further and further up, angling it while you press your chest into the mattress – the increasing tightness making you whimper and bite down on the pillow.

But to Dean’s amazement, you keep pushing against him, taking it all the way. Even when he slowly slips a fourth finger inside. He bites back another guttural groan. The feeling of you clamping his fingers and now even slowly, tentatively rocking your hips against him is almost too much for him.

“That’s it…” he murmurs, a hint of pride in his voice which doesn’t go unnoticed by you, despite your mindless state. You roll your hips up against him and a loud groan erupts from your throat at the intense sensation of him splitting you apart.

Dean leans a bit back to relish the view with parted lips: He’s knuckles-deep inside you. His four thick fingers stretching you to the point you feel like you might explode. He’s completely filling you, his fingertips hitting your most sensitive spot at the very end.

He lets you set the pace, only occasionally curling his fingers as he draws sounds from you which can only be describe as borderline pornographic. Every whine and mewl are rewarded with a stronger flick of his thumb over your swollen clit. Your legs are shaking and you buckle from the increased friction, the pleasure doubled with a simple continues rub against your bud.

It doesn’t take long until your legs not only tremble but start to give in and fight the mattress for some form of control. Short erratic puffs of breath burst out of your mouth and a little dribble of saliva escapes the corner of your lips. The sight alone would’ve almost sent Dean, but the sounds you made – my God your sounds of pleasure where like heaven to him.

Desperate and overwhelmed, your body starts to act on its own again; your legs kick and squirm and writhe. Your hips suddenly jerk away and your fingers dig into the sheets enough to strangle a grown man.

Dean’s eyes widen briefly, leaning down with his weight to keep you still. “Shhh-Shhh,” he coos reassuringly, but with an almost mock-innocent undertone. As if that sly bastard didn’t know that you are on the brink of breaking.

He slings his leg around one of your kicking legs, effectively holding it in a deadlock as he presses it back into the mattress. “Ah-ah-ah,” he playfully warns you with a cocky smirk, “Stay here, sweetheart… ain’t done with ya yet…” He moves his free hand up to the back of your head where he carefully threads his fingers through your hair, taking a fist full to gently tug your head back and hold you in place.

A pleading whimper leaves your lips. Begging for relief, for him to finally allow you to fall over that damn edge. You try to voice your plea for mercy but any word that’s meant to leave your lips is smushed into another pathetic, strangled noise on its way out.

“Damn… can’t even talk any more can ya, gorgeous…” Dean chuckles deeply, his rumbling chest vibrating against your back as he keeps you pinned down under his weight. You can feel the muscles of his hard calf, tense and unyielding against your trapped leg. Your thigh straining against him in vain, twitching and trembling. Your toes claw at the sheets in a desperate attempt to break free from his grip, whimpering something which he recognises as a scrambled, frustrated “please”. But he doesn’t budge, his strength effortlessly keeping you at his mercy and leaving you no chance of escaping his onslaught.

He leans down to your ear, his voice dropping an octave when he asks teasingly, “You wanna come? That it, baby? You want me to make ya come?”

Yes, yes, yes yes yes – you keep repeating the word in your head until you realize that you’re only whining more. Dean chuckles, “That a yes? Hm? What was that?”

Oh Jesus Christ he’s enjoying this way too much. This time you nod – frantically. Not taking the risk of your answer getting lost again. Your sounds are hoarse by now, your body contorting from his four fingers slowly moving inside your cunt and his thumb working your clit every now and then – not enough to let the knot in your stomach burst, but enough to keep you on the brink of it. He falls into a tantalizing pace, sometimes shallow, sometimes so deep that it makes your half-lidded eyes roll back with a pained groan.

Dean meanwhile drinks in the sight of you squirming from the pleasure he can give you, all at his mercy, making sure to not give you a single moment of catching your breath.

“Oh yeah..?” Dean lets out a low hum. He pulls your ear lobe between his teeth and gives you a little tug at your hair. You’re shaking, even your whimpering sounds are clipped, breathless and trembling, your mind numb by now. Your body overstimulated and exhausted from chasing that sweet relief for what feels like hours.

“Jesus, you’re so vocal babe… you know how hard this gets me?” He groans against the side of your face and he grinds his rock hard erection against your hip to prove his statement. After a moment, he releases the grip on your hair and moves his hand down your neck, angling his shoulders to push his arm down between your shoulder blades to keep you from wiggling away. “You’re such a good girl for me…” he says while shifting his position on top of you, “And good girls get a reward…”

Fucking finally. A long shaky exhale escapes you when his weight presses down on you, his body covering you like a heavy blanket. He supports himself by leaning up on his right elbow, always making sure not to put too much pressure on you, but enough to let you feel his strength and the power over you.

His hot, ragged breath hits your ear once more. Whispering in that gravelly and authoritative tone of his, every word punctured by a deep thrust of his fingers, “’M gonna count down from ten… and when I hit zero... I want you to come for me baby, understand?”

Lord have mercy. You nod again, although most of his words went past you and at this point you would have probably agreed to anything for that relief. With your brain melted into a useless puddle, you feel like your only driven by need and primal instincts by now.

And then, the next ten seconds feel like the most intense you have ever experienced. With every number you feel your knot tighten more, your core burning up as if it was to explode any second – but not yet, not yet —

“…seven…”

He moves his arm along your back to grab your left hand, holding it down. “…six...” His fingers intertwine with yours, while his other hand picks up its pace. “…five…” You’re suddenly arching your back, involuntarily trying to squirm away from him. But his firm chest keeps you safe beneath him, while his lips form the next number against your ear, “…four…”

Almost there. Your free knee slides along the mattress aimlessly and your other hand rips at the pillow, feeling like your body is about to snap into two. “…three…”

Determined to get you there, his calloused thumb flicks your overstimulated bud without mercy, earning himself another guttural whimper of yours, “-that’s it, let me hear ya …two…”

The sound of his low rumbling voice cuts right through your haze and a shudder shoots through your body. The anticipation’s almost killing you at this point, feeling coiled up like a spring.

“…one…” You can feel it, the wave building up and ready to crash down on you. Dean can sense you’re on the very edge too and he intends to send you over it this time. He gently bites down on your neck, muttering his final order against your skin, “…zero… come for me, sunshine.” You go tense like a bowstring and your head snaps forward to bury your face in his elbow. When, at last, the wave hits your body and the knot in your stomach finally explodes with a strangled scream of relief. Several shudders of pleasure ripple through you, leaving you twist and turn, sandwiched between the mattress and Dean’s heavy body. He lets you ride out your high, his strong muscles working to hold you close to his chest.

You pant heavily, shakily. Your mind finally clearing. Your bleary eyes fully opening for the first time, like this was all just a dream too good to be true. His voice draws your attention to his face, when he gasps. “Jesus sweetheart… it’s like a swimmin’ pool down here.”

That comment takes you so much off guard, that you break out into a surprised laughter. He grins at you before he joins with his own hearty bark of amusement, a cocky grin on his face. “I ain’t kiddin’ – I’m growin’ fins!” He holds up his drenched hand, wrinkled skin, wiggling his cum-covered fingers in front of your eyes, “Look!”

He chuckles and his widened eyes take in the mess with something like fascination and an eager lick of his lips. The corners of his smile pull up into a lazy grin when his emerald eyes meet your satisfied and dozy, half-lidded ones again. “Y’know… I think ’m gonna need to clean up that mess down there.”

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation ... (check the masterlist for more!)

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[orangeblossomsintheair]

DAD SIMON THOUGHTS!!

im also in this fandom now ;>

simon’s fingers tapped restlessly against the edge of the table as you placed your mug down and sat across from him. he avoided your gaze, staring at a spot on the wall instead. his silence was deafening, stretching long enough to make you sigh.

“spit it out, simon,” you said gently, leaning forward.

“there’s nothing to spit out,” he muttered, but his clenched jaw betrayed him.

you tilted your head, watching him with that knowing look that always unnerved him. “you’re acting like the world’s about to end.”

he huffed a humorless laugh. “maybe it is.”

your brows knitted together, but there was no anger, only a concern that made his skin itch. “simon, talk to me.”

he nearly laughed at your face. you made it sound so easy.

how could he put that fear into words, knowing it might hurt you, knowing it might break something in you too?

“i can’t,” he finally admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “it’s not… i don’t want to say something I can’t take back.”

your lips pressed into a thin line as you reached out, taking his hand in yours. “you’re scared.”

“i’m not scared,” he shot back too quickly, tone defensive.

“you’re terrified,” you corrected softly, squeezing his hand. “and that’s okay.”

you tilted your head, trying to catch his eyes. “now, seriously. talk to me.”

he shook his head. “what if I’m not…good enough? what if I fail you? or our baby?”

your hand tightened around his, and you moved closer, your eyes unwavering. “you won’t. because you care too much to fail. and because you don’t have to do this alone.”

“i don’t know how to be…” he trailed off, his voice cracking.

“a father?” you finished for him, your voice warm.

he nodded, staring at your joined hands.

“you’re already doing it,” you said softly. “you’re here, si. that’s what matters most. the rest, we figure out as we go.”

simon leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

he hadn’t said anything for a while now, the air between them heavy with unspoken words. you sat beside him, watching the way his shoulders tensed, his body a coiled spring ready to snap.

“i know you don’t believe me,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “no matter what I say, you’ve got it in your head that you’re not good enough.”

he didn’t respond, but his hands flexed slightly, like he was gripping onto some invisible weight he just couldn’t drop.

you exhaled, leaning closer, voice steady. “simon, I didn’t marry you because I thought you were perfect.”

he looked away, jaw tightening, but you pressed on.

“do you really think i didn’t know what i was getting into? i knew. and i still love you. i’ll always love you.” your hand rested on his, grounding him. “not because you’re perfect but because you show up. because you try, even when you’re scared. because you care, even when it hurts.”

his breath hitched, and for a moment, he didn’t move.

then he looked at you, his voice cracking as he whispered, “i don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

“you don’t get to decide that,” you replied, smile soft but firm.

his lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile but didn’t quite know how. “bit bossy, aren’t you?”

you smirked, tilting your head playfully. “someone has to be, with you moping around like this.”

“moping?” his eyebrows lifted, the faintest hint of amusement creeping into his tone. “i don’t mope.”

“oh, you do,” you shot back, leaning back slightly but keeping your hands on his. “it’s very broody, very dramatic. could give shakespeare a run for his money.”

a dry laugh rumbled in his chest, and the sound warmed you more than you cared to admit. “didn’t know i married a comedian.”

“well, i didn’t marry a ray of sunshine, so i guess we’re even.” you grinned, poking him lightly in the ribs.

he caught your hand before you could do it again, holding it tightly but not enough to hurt. “careful,” he said, his voice low but teasing. “i’m dangerous, remember?”

your laughter bubbled out before you could stop it. “oh, please. you’re about as dangerous as a kitten when you’re sulking.”

he huffed, shaking his head, but the ghost of a smile finally broke through. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“and yet, here we are,” you cooed, leaning closer until your forehead was almost touching his. “you stuck with me, riley. for better or worse.”

he let out a long breath, finally letting the tension drain from his shoulders. “guess i can live with that,” he said, his voice soft, his gaze warm in a way that made your heart ache.

“you better,” you quipped, grin returning full force. “because i’m not going anywhere.”

his lips finally curved into a small, genuine smile. “good,” he murmured, pulling you closer into his arms. “i’d be lost without you.”

[gilbertscurls]

calling after me — matt sturniolo

summary: where you hang up on matt without saying "i love you"

The house was quiet, with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rustle of a breeze through the open windows breaking the stillness. You had spent the afternoon catching up on some reading, enjoying the peaceful solitude. Matt was out for the day, running errands and meeting with friends, and you had talked briefly before he left.

You were feeling a bit playful and decided on a light-hearted prank to pass the time. You picked up your phone, knowing that Matt would likely call you later in the day just to check in. Your plan was to hang up on him without saying “I love you” back, just to see how he would react. It was a harmless trick, meant only to spark a little fun.

A few hours later, your phone rang, and you saw Matt’s name flashing on the screen. You took a deep breath, your excitement building, and answered with your usual cheerful tone.

“Hey, Matt! How’s it going?”

Matt’s voice came through the phone, sounding upbeat. “Hey, baby! Everything’s good. Just finishing up a few things. How about you? Missed you today.”

You smiled, enjoying the sound of his voice. “I’ve been good. Just relaxing and getting some stuff done around here.”

You chatted for a few minutes, exchanging stories about your day. You could hear the warmth and affection in Matt’s voice, and you felt a pang of guilt for what you were about to do. But you pushed it aside, determined to go through with your prank.

“Well, I should probably get going,” Matt said. “I’ll be heading home soon. Love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You hesitated for a moment, then decided to go through with the prank. “Okay, see you soon,” you said, and before Matt could say anything else, you abruptly hung up the call.

The sudden silence in the room felt almost too loud. You waited, your playful grin slowly fading as you wondered how Matt would react. A few moments later, your phone buzzed with a text message from Matt.

“Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?”

Your heart sank as you read his message. You hadn’t expected him to be so concerned. You quickly typed a response.

“I’m sorry, Matt. I was just playing a little prank. I love you!”

Almost immediately, Matt called you back, and this time, you answered with a sense of urgency.

“Hey, Matt. I’m really sorry about that. It was just a silly prank.”

Matt’s voice was a mix of relief and slight confusion. “You scared me for a second there. I thought something might be wrong. You didn’t say ‘I love you’ back, and I was worried.”

Your heart ached at his concern. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

Matt sighed, his voice softening. “You know, I’m glad you’re okay, but you don’t need to pull pranks like that. It’s just, when you didn’t say ‘I love you,’ it felt like something was off.”

You felt a wave of guilt and affection. “I understand. I really do love you, Matt. I’m sorry if I made you worry.”

Matt’s tone turned tender. “I love you too, baby. Just… Maybe next time, let’s skip the pranks. They’re not as fun when they make you worry.”

Your eyes softened, and she smiled. “Agreed. I’ll make it up to you when you get home. Promise.”

Matt chuckled softly. “Looking forward to it. See you soon.”

And when he returned home, you spent the evening making up for the prank with extra hugs, laughter, and heartfelt moments.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim

[sailornymph]

‘F*CK ME LIKE YOU MAD AT ME’

how the uchiha men are in bed

cw : nsfw, choking, slapping, etc…

authorsnote : hi everyone and welcome, i hope you enjoy, please stick around for more. 

♡︎ madara uchiha

— at least 8.5 inches, all uchiha men give third leg energy

— he’s really loud, he moans, grunts, calls out your name; anyone passing by could probably hear him, he doesn’t have any shame

— he loves cowgirl, he likes women who are strong like him and he enjoys watching you show him how much you could take

— loves to fuck your face after a long day

— he’s not into foreplay and not much of a eater, but his fingers, they’ll make your toes curl everytime

— he is rough, but with care, asking you if you’re okay, how does it feel, are you ready

— he may be a warrior and clan leader but in the safety of his home with his wife, he is a gentleman

— he’s okay at aftercare, it’s usually you catering to him and he tends to you along the way. if you were to run him bath water, he invites you in and you’ll bath each other

“-just like that,” madara grunted, holding your hip, his other hand exploring all over your body. you were grinding your hips, and it mostly only felt good for you, but watching you was enough to keep him hard.

“madara, fuck me harder,” you whined, gasping then laughing in excitement as his hands instructed you to bounce.

“oh baby, rougher please, fuck me like you’re mad at me,” you panted. your lustful words were enough to make him give in.

madara helped you as you continued to bounce, this time, he made sure you felt every inch, moaning louder every time you took all of him. leaning up, he took your nipple in his mouth. your hands tangled in his messy hair, as you held him closer.

“you’re going to make me cum,” you cried to him.

“cum all over me,” he groaned, going back to sucking your breast.

“yesyesyesyesyes, i’m cummimg, i’m cumming,” you cried out, but he pulled you close, kissing your lips and muffling the lucid noises.

you continued to moan, slowly grinding your hips, as he slapped your ass, squeezing it. his seed squirted all over your walls and you didn’t pull him out like usual, just continuing to grind your hips. once you were satisfied and stopped, he pulled himself out, wrapping his arms around your body.

“the others probably heard us, we were so loud,” you shook your head in embarrassment.

“i doubt it, we were louder last time,” he sighed, thinking of last time he came home from a mission and the two of you went at it for hours.

meanwhile, outside of his home, a few clansmen passed the house, all having horrified expressions.

“lord madara is a very passionate man,” one of the young shinobi said, their face crimson.

“we’ll have an heir in no time with those two,” izuna laughed, turning to leave.

♡︎ itachi uchiha

— 7. 5 inches and is on the girthier side

— low airy moans and sweet words

— missionary so he can see your pretty face or riding him, while he hugs you closely

— this man is an eater and a master with his fingers

— he could lick on your beautiful pussy all night, your cum coating his fingers and he would be content

— he doesn't ask for oral but is fine with it if you initiate

— he is incredibly gentle with you, treating you as if you are fragile and could easily break at the slightest touch

— as his health is declining, sex doesn't happen as much as it used to, but when he has the courage and strength, he wants to make sure it is slow and precious, making the night rememberable for both of you

— the aftercare king, you won't have to lift a finger, he will take care of you and everything else

“i’m cumming,” you moaned lowly, your leg lifted onto itachi’s shoulder. he had been at it for almost an hour now. you were past your third orgasm and didn't understand how his tongue had the strength to keep going.

“you’re so sweet, angel,” he complimented, kissing your inner thighs, as your body twitched. as the reaction wore off, he lowered his head, ready to eat some more, but you shook your head, pulling him onto the bed.

“i’m ready for more,” you said, as he kissed your lips. falling backward into the pillows, you watched as he took off his clothing.

“i love you, angel,” he said, kissing your collarbone.

“i love you too,” you cooed, as he kissed your lips next.

pushing his cock into your cunt, you both moaned, before he moved his head to start kissing your neck.

“i don’t want to make love tonight,” you said, catching him off guard.

“i want you to fuck me like you’re mad at me, just this once, a little rougher,” you encouraged, as he hesitantly nodded.

“if it hurts we’ll stop immediately,” he said, as you nodded, biting your lip.

planting his hands on the sides of your head, he began thrusting. your voice getting louder, as you moaned. the bed frame hitting the wall repeatedly. he was thankful that you lived in the small cottage a good distance from anyone so that no one could hear the noises you were letting out.

“do you like that, angel?” he asked, smirking as you nodded, before begging for more.

placing a hand around your throat, he lightly squeezed, as he spread your legs more with his free hand. you could feel your cunt stretching more and more, making room for every inch he had to give and you loved every minute of it.

“are you going to cum for me, princess?”

“yesyesyes, please make me cum on your cock,” you moaned to him, as he continued thrusting, his hair covering his face.

“it feels so good,” you continued, hungrily grinding your hips.

“fuck,” Itachi hissed, grabbing your hips. he was cumming hard.

“i feel all of it, inside of me,” you giggled, grinding your hips more before you came.

“i don't think i’ve ever came that fast before,” he admitted, burying his face in your breast, taking in your scent.

“perhaps we can do it like that more often,” you suggested.

“perhaps, but we’ll have to come up with a safe word,” he offered. he was always thinking of your wellbeing.

“oh itachi”

♡︎ indra ōtsutsuki

— he’s a big dick meanie having about 9 inches

— he is a dirty talker, calling you everything under the sun but a child of god

— he’s a misogynistic and it will show how he talks to you

— doggystyle! he loves backshots so he can push your face further down, spanking your ass until it’s sore

— lightly slapping your face, holding your nose as he fucks your mouth

— he doesn’t really like you, but you’re his wife, meaning that you are meant to be used by him any way that he sees fit, right?

— he is rough, tossing you around like you are nothing but his personal doll

— he isn’t into aftercare, if anything, it is you who should be offering to care for him because it is your role as his wife to cater to him

“lord indra,” you called out, nervously fidgeting with your fingers, as you stood outside his bedroom.

“what is it?” he asked coldly, he sat legs crossed, obviously trying to meditate.

“i wanted to…i wanted to ask if you if-

“spit it out woman,” he scolded.

“i wanted to ask if you could fuck me,” you said, clenching your thighs together. he hadn’t touched you in weeks, despite you being on your best behavior.

“you really are a whore, aren’t you?” he chuckled.

“yes, my lord,” you nodded, as he finally looked at you. your kimono was slightly open, nothing underneath.

“come here,” he tilted his head at you.

hastily you rushed over, falling to your knees, as he stood up. it took all of your willpower to not reach and touch yourself. he looked at you with disgust, but a hint of interest.

“you left your room dressed this way, what if someone else saw you? but you want another man to see your body, don't you?” he roughly grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“no, my lord, i only want you,” you moaned.

“right, to fuck you?”

“yes, my lord, i want you to fuck me like you're mad at me,” you plead, as his thumb brushes against your bottom lip. he didn't say anything, pulling his hand back, before slapping your cheek.

“you slut, you interrupted me to satisfy your sexual urges, i'll make sure to fuck you so hard, you’ll think twice about asking again,” he said, as you nodded.

“please punish me,” you begged, nearly moaning as he tore your kimono open. slapping your breast a few times, he opened his kimono, pumping his pink cock.

“open your mouth, bitch,” he said, thrusting into your warm mouth. humming, he grabbed a handful of your hair.

reaching down to rub your clit, you gasp as he yanked your head backward, slapping your cheek.

“did i say you could touch your pussy?” he said, watching as you quickly moved your hands back up, caressing his abdomen and sides, as he went back to fucking your throat.

you were perfect, taking his length like you were supposed to. he had trained you amazingly, from an inexperienced virgin to a slutty housewife, but he would never tell you that. you didn't need to know that you were doing a good job, it would only go to your head.

instead like always, he pulled out of your mouth, grunting a few times as his cum spilled all over your breast.

“thank you, my lord, it tasted so good,” you praised him, before turning around, putting your face against the floor, your ass in the air. sending a slap to your ass, you winced.

“you have a lot of nerve, you stupid whore, bothering me, i should fuck you until you can't walk,” he frowned, slapping your ass again, then again, and again. the pain mixed with pleasure only made your pussy more wet.

pushing his cock into your wet hole, his hands immediately went to your waist. you moaned, lifting your head, but he slapped your ass, pushing your face back onto the floor.

“your pussy is so wet and tight for me, all mine, only mine if you ever cheat on me, i’ll kill them, all of them, you wait until i’m ready to fuck this little cunt, i don't care how long you have to wait,” he said, thrusting in and out of your sweet pussy.

“y-yes, my lord, only yours,” you struggled to speak, squeezing your kimono. as he sped up his pace, you began pulling away from him, but he held you close, as he kept fucking into you.

“stop running, you wanted this, so take it, bitch,” he ordered.

“it's too much,” you whined.

“you interrupted me about getting fucked and now it's too much, it's too late for all of that,” he said, as you moaned loudly.

“oh, kami, i’m cumming,” you cried, clenching around him, as your body jerked at the sensation.

you were hopeful that he would finally cum inside. you had been married for almost two years with still no heir. asuma told you he has overheard indra tell their father it was because neither of you was ready for it.

pulling out, he pumped himself, grunting as the semen sprayed all over your ass and lower back. pushing away the nerve-wracking voice in your mind, whining about how he had yet to cum in you, you sat on the back of your legs facing him.

“thank you, lord Indra, you’ve been very generous to me,” you bowed, going to stand, when your legs gave out. before you could hit the floor, his hand guilelessly went to your waist, catching you.

“sorry,” you nervously laughed.

“you can stay tonight,” he said, his face showing no emotions.

“really?” you smiled, excited.

“i need a bath, and you do too, so crawl,” he said, watching as you nodded, actually crawling to the bathroom.

he could forget at times how much he secretly enjoyed having a dumb slutty wife.

♡︎ obito uchiha

— 8 inch loverboy

— a whimpering mess, he is touch starved and now that he has someone who loves him as much as he loves them, he easily becomes a mess

— this man is a freak, he is doing any and everything, as long as he gets to do it with you

— loves early morning blowjobs, tasting your pretty pussy, mutual masturbation, he just wants to touch and be touched by you

— he is versatile, sometimes he is gentle, sometimes he is manhandling your body

— he loves foreplay and is always willing to try new things, you want to try anal, he will make sure the prep is perfect, you want to roleplay? he’ll even dress up as whatever if you ask

— he never thought aftercare was important until he got with you and now he caters to you

— behind the villain is a soft boi who just wants to love you and treat you like the queen you are

“you scared me,” you jumped, noticing obito. he still wasn’t used to you living with him and oftentimes appeared without making his presence known.

“sorry, love,” he said, taking off his cloak, watching as you approached him from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“how was your day?”

“i accomplished a few things, you?”

“boring and lonely,” you pouted, as he turned to face you, his hand going down to cup your ass.

“maybe i can help fix that, now that i’m here?” he proposed.

“please do”

“how can i help with this boredom and loneliness?”

“fuck me”

“is that all?”

“fuck me like you're mad at me,” you tried biting back your smile, as you stared into his dark eyes.

“anything for you,” easily tearing off your nightgown, his hands explored your body. perfect, everything about it was perfect. no one could make his cock as painfully hard as you.

lifting you into his arms, your legs going around his waist instantaneously. pumping himself a few times, he aligned with your entrance, before letting your cunt pull him in deeper. throwing your head back, you held him close as he kissed along your neck.

“you ready, baby?” he asked, smirking as you nodded.

“yes,” you moaned breathlessly.

without another word, with a firm hold on your thighs, began thrusting into you. your eyes rolled back as he fucked you as if you were nothing but a whore to him. nodding your head, you opened your mouth, tongue out, letting obito spit into your mouth.

“just like that, i love it,” you cried, before smashing your lips into his own.

“you're so tight baby, you're squeezing me,” he whimpered, as you dragged your tongue along his jaw.

“cum inside of me, as many times as you want,” you moaned, your voice getting louder as he sped up.

“fuck yeah,” you laughed, throwing your head back, as he slapped your ass.

“i’m about to cum,” he told you.

“wait for me, we'll go together,” you cried, placing wet kisses along his shoulder, as you both moaned, drunk with horniness.

“right there, i’m cumming,” you whined and finally he released, filling you up.

“hm, so good,” you exhaled, feeling almost refreshed.

“i didn't hurt you, did i baby?” he asked, worriedly.

“no, you were amazing,” you kissed his lips, as his cock fell out of your creamy pussy.

“good,” he said, feeling better after having your reassurance.

“obito”

“yes baby?”

“take me to bed,” you whispered, your eyes burning with lust.

“yes, my love”

♡︎ sasuke uchiha

— 8 inches, i don't make the rules, he's tall, slender, and quiet, meaning it’s heavy

— he's unsurprisingly quiet, but small whimpers and groans will escape his mouth sometime

— he has your legs folded like a pretzel, in the mating press, he has to restore his clan after all

— keeps his shirt on because he's self-conscious, but likes it when you touch him

— likes sucking your breast while he rubs your clit or you jerk him off while kissing him, but he isn't into oral

— incredibly sweet and gentle, while showing his strength

— he knows his redemption won't happen overnight and being more loving to you than before is very important to him

— he isn't the best at aftercare, but with your words of encouragement and instructions, he will get better

“i’ve missed you,” he said lowly, standing in the doorway, he had come home just as you had gotten out of the shower. the fluffy towel still around your body.

“i’ve missed you too,” you smiled. he had been trying so hard to communicate more.

slowly, he approaches you, swiftly lifting you with his arm. his hand resting under your ass, while you held onto his shoulders, peppering his face with kisses. he was still as strong as ever.

“want to know what else i’ve missed since you’ve been away?” you smirked as he nodded.

“your big cock, i miss you fucking me like a slut, do you miss that?”

“yes,” he whispered, his breathing getting heavier.

“are you too tired tonight? i need you so badly, i want to fuck me like you’re mad at me,” you bit your lip. your pussy was already leaking.

“never,” he said and before you could speak again, you were already being gently placed on the bed.

opening your towel, sasuke straddled your lap, taking his cloak off, revealing the gray shirt underneath. leaning down, he lapped his tongue over your nipple. using his hand to pinch the other. reaching down, you unbuttoned his pants, but when you reached for his shirt, he reached for your hand.

“no”

“it’s okay, you’re with me,” you encouraged him, as he hesitantly nodded. unbuttoning his shirt, you opened it but left it on.

taking out his cock, your walls clenched at the heaviness of it. the girth, the length, the visible veins, as he stroked himself. the precum already leaking out. once hard enough, his thumb went to your clit, rubbing a little, before he pushed himself into your wet tight hole.

“yes baby, just like that,” you moaned, as he lifted your legs, crossing them, before pushing himself all the way in.

“so beautiful,” he mumbled.

“you’re making me so wet, keeping going, you’re fucking me so good,” you whined to him, reaching to touch his toned abdomen.

you were already creaming all over him, as he kept going in and out. he was thankful that your eyes were shut because you couldn't see him place the kisses along your feet and ankles. he was disappointed in himself, the fact that it took all this time, for him to finally cherish you and now he couldn't get enough of you.

“ah, sasuke, i’m so close,” you said, your legs shaking, as he held them folded together.

your walls repeatedly clenched around him, as he let out a series of uneven grunts. he was close and he didn’t even know if you wanted him cumming inside. shaking under him, you began to unravel, coating his cock with your juices.

“shit,” he hissed, about to pull out, when you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist.

“cum inside,” you moaned, biting your lip, as he filled you up.

with every drop of his seed released, your legs fell, and you smiled tiredly batting your lashes at him. pulling him onto the bed, you kissed as if you'd never see each other again.

“lord seventh has to stop sending you on so many missions, this house is so lonely without you,” you pouted, playing with the ends of his hair.

“maybe…maybe having a child around could keep you some company, until i am home?” he struggled to say, his face burning in embarrassment.

“you want a baby?”

“with you,” he added on, a small nod.

“then we have to get really busy-

“we can start tonight,” he interrupted, motioning for you to sit on his lap. you were in for a long night.

[narxcisse]

★ — You have a WHAT— !?

Pairing: Viktor x GN!Reader

CW: OnlyFans (don't do it in irl, have some self-love. 😐), modern au, suggestive, recording with him, implied sex(?

English isn't my native language

You’d been living with Viktor for a few months now, and while you two had settled into a comfortable roommate dynamic, there were still plenty of boundaries. Viktor was, after all, a reserved and intensely private person. You, on the other hand, were a little more… free-spirited.

That’s probably why the revelation hit him like a freight train.

It started innocently enough. Viktor had been borrowing your laptop to work on something after his own device had overheated. You had, of course, told him to go ahead without thinking about the open tabs you’d left behind.

The moment he opened the browser, his eyes widened. Your profile stared back at him—your stage name, the carefully curated content, and the glaringly obvious subscriber count. He blinked a few times, unsure if he was hallucinating.

By the time you walked into the living room, coffee in hand, Viktor was sitting there, your laptop on his knees, looking like he’d just uncovered a conspiracy.

“Care to explain this?” he asked, tilting the screen toward you.

Your blood ran cold as your eyes darted to the laptop. The tab. Oh, no.

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, nearly spilling your coffee. “I, uh… can explain.”

Viktor arched an eyebrow, clearly amused despite the slight redness in his ears. “I certainly hope so.”

You set your coffee down, running a hand through your hair. “It’s not a big deal. It’s… a side hustle. Pays the bills. And it’s not like I’m doing anything illegal.”

He hummed, leaning back on the couch. “A side hustle, you say? Judging by your subscriber count, it’s a rather… successful one.”

You couldn’t tell if he was impressed or mortified. Maybe both. “Look, I didn’t think it was something you needed to know about. It’s just… a thing I do.”

Viktor tapped his fingers on the laptop, his gaze thoughtful. “I’m not judging,” he said finally. “I just… didn’t expect it. You’re quite bold.”

You huffed out a laugh, relieved that he wasn’t outright horrified. “Well, thank you, I guess?”

He smirked, closing the laptop and handing it back to you. “Just make sure to clear your browser history next time. And if you ever need help with… production or branding—”

“Viktor!”

He chuckled softly, standing up and grabbing his cane. “What? You know I have an eye for design. Let me know if you ever need a logo.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, though you couldn’t help but laugh. Leave it to Viktor to turn your most embarrassing moment into a business opportunity.

---

It started as a joke, one of those late-night conversations fueled by too much takeout and not enough sleep. Viktor had brought up your OF account in passing, teasing you lightly about your "entrepreneurial spirit." You’d laughed it off at first, but somehow, the idea of him being your co-star had slipped out.

He’d arched an eyebrow at the suggestion, his lips quirking in a smirk. “You’re serious?”

“I mean…” you trailed off, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Why not? You’re… well, you know, attractive. I think people would lose their minds.”

To your surprise, Viktor had actually considered it. He wasn’t shy, but he had a reserved, almost clinical approach to most things. “If it’s purely professional,” he’d said eventually, his tone careful but intrigued, “then I suppose I wouldn’t be opposed.”

And that’s how you found yourself here, in your shared bedroom, with the camera set up and Viktor sitting at the edge of your bed, looking almost too composed for what you were about to do.

“You’re sure about this?” you asked, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, suddenly nervous.

Viktor adjusted his position, leaning on his cane with a slight smirk. “I don’t make decisions lightly. You, on the other hand, seem rather flustered for someone who does this regularly.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Yeah, well, it’s not every day I film with my roommate.”

His gaze softened slightly, and he reached out, brushing his fingers against yours. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “We’ll take it slow.”

The camera started rolling, and all your nerves seemed to dissipate the moment his lips met yours. Viktor’s touch was deliberate, his movements precise as though he were approaching this like one of his experiments—focused, attentive, and surprisingly passionate.

You quickly realized that Viktor’s calm, calculated demeanor translated into an intensity you hadn’t anticipated. He was all in, every touch and movement deliberate, as if he wanted to ensure that this wasn’t just convincing on camera—it was unforgettable.

When it was over, you were both breathless, tangled in the sheets as the camera’s red light blinked softly in the corner of the room. Viktor let out a soft chuckle, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Well,” he said, his voice teasing, “I think that went rather well.”

You laughed, still catching your breath. “You’re a natural. I might have to recruit you more often.”

He smirked, his amber eyes glinting with amusement. “Careful. I might start demanding a share of the profits.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him. “We’ll see about that.”

But as you lay there, Viktor’s arm draped lazily over your waist, you couldn’t help but think that this was definitely one of your better ideas.

— Guys, I found a dubious wifi connection, but I guess I'll use it until I have to go home lol.

[im-gonna-sing-the-doom-song-blog]

Jason Todd NSFW A-Z

Warnings 18+:

Adult language and themes

*sorry in advance for any spelling/grammar errors

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

Jason would hold you, grip firm, but comforting, almost as if grounding himself in this moment.  He would mummer to you in that rough Bowery accent. “Fucking shit, hon..” while kissing your neck. It takes a little for him to clean up and to let you do the same (he's very lazy at this point), but when he does, he spoils you. He runs you a warm bath and brings you your favorite snack, along with the softest pjs ever. The best part is the deep tissue massage he gives you to release the rest of that tension they may linger. “I said I would get all of the knots out, didn’t I?” 

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

Jason really doesn’t have a favorite part of his own body. His hands maybe. They can bring on destruction, but also build and mend things he thought he was only capable of destroying. He loves using them to squeeze your thighs. That’s his favorite part, if he had to choose. He loves all of you.  

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

I fully believe he's into facials and cumming in your mouth. Something about holding your face with one hand, thumb and index finger squishing your cheeks as he rubs his leaking cock against your lips, glossing them with precum. When he cums, his smacking your face with it. Extra points if you stick out your tongue. 

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

Secret recordings and photos. He gets off on rewatching the filthy things he does to you. He’s not much of a porn guy, since he only wants you. Other people don’t really interest him in that aspect. So, when he goes on those long missions and can’t see you for a while, he has something to keep him motivated. 

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

He’s had a few partners, but nothing really special. Not like you. Just basic sex after he came back from the pit, but his body was still settling in itself. Growing pains and all that he had to endure all at once. He has the know-how and some top tier equipment, so what he lacks in experience he makes up in that. Either way, you're a soaking mess when he’s done. The longer you're with him, the better and better it gets 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) 

Doggy style. Hands down, He loves watching your pussy take his full length to the base “You like that? Get that ass up. You can take it” .  He also enjoys cowgirl when you both in the mood, but doesn’t wanna move around too much. Perfect for those sore post patrol nights and he wants to get you off.  

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

Neither goofy or serious. A complete bastard. Jason gets that shit eating grin on his face when he’s slamming into you and you making you whimper in pleasure. “All that talk and you can barely take it.” He chuckles. “And you think I was gonna let you off easy?”  

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

Definitely trimmed. He doesn’t really care as long as it's neat down there. Dark trail of hair. Not really much to say. 

Always clean. 

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

Kind of a prick. Jason is naturally an aggressive guy, so I can’t really see him being gentle in bed unless you ask him to. He won’t hurt you in anyway, but he fucks in the mattress until you’re unable to walk properly.  

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) 

Not really into it. Jason would rather wait to have the real thing than bore himself with a porno. Why waste time with that? However mutual masturbation can get him going. Intense making out while he jerks off and you touch yourself drives him feral. “Those goddamn noises you make, doll. Gonna make me lose my shit” 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) 

Lingerie. Especially his color.  Lace makes him rock hard. He likes to choke you too. Pull your hair. His major kink is definitely edging..teasing and teasing..and teasing some more until he feels like letting you cum. “Too much? Look at you. You’re squirming and soak already. I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”  

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) 

Home. Anywhere in his apartment is game. He has security measures up the ass there and I don’t see him being a public sex kinda man. Too many risks. The exception is the Batcave.. he’ll hack the security there, fuck you on the training mat and then leave your assprint on the hood of the Batmobile. Wouldn’t even bother deleting the footage either. This asshole would make eye contact with the camera and flip it off on the way out.  

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

Arguments with you get him going. Especially when it's really heated. He’ll fuck the attitude right out of you. “Babe, curb the ‘tude before I fuck it out of ya” In contrast, his desire is also awakened when you're...just....talking. Your voice puts him in a state. “Just keep talking, please..” He breathes as he palms himself. Stress relief after patrol is another motivator. He’ll wash up the blood and carry you to the bed. “I need you like crazy, c’mere” 

*Bonus. Not really a turn on...but he’ll demolish you out of jealousy. Say, if he felt like someone like Dick was trying something (Dick would never but Jason can be a delusional baby sometimes, let’s face it). It's a self-esteem thing for him. “Everyone wants the pretty golden boy. What, don’t I fuck you good enough.” Oh, he certainly does. 

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

Consent is key. Jason Todd is a mean prick during sex and can sometimes get carried away, but the moment you show the slightest display of unwillingness in your eyes, he’ll stop immediately. He’ll go soft and it may take a while to get him hard again. He could never hurt you and if ever accidently did, he wouldn’t forgive himself.  

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

Loves giving as much as receiving. Jason will eat you out like he's starving, your legs pushed up and everything. He’ll make you scream his name as he traces it with his tongue.  “Hold still and stop squirming, will you? I’m trying to fuckin’eat.” Then when he's leaning back against the couch, muscular arms resting up and you're on your knees on the floor in front of him, he’ll forgive you a little if you can’t go down all the day. “Too big? Poor you” He’ll coo almost mockingly. I don’t really feel choking my pretty girl out. Take a deep breath and take it slow” The sounds that come out of him though? Goddamn. 

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

Normally rough and medium paced. Not fast or slow. He’s not gentle. I don't care what anyone says. When I say he’ll fuck you into oblivion, I mean it. That doesn’t translate that he doesn't enjoy slow and sensual love making, he does. It's just  that sex is a stress reliever for him, so he wants to release it as much as possible. “You can take it, huh? Look at me, sweetheart. Look at me. I can always fuck you harder, you know”  

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

Jason likes to take his time. He would only want a quickie if he was on patrol and its quiet. He’ll sneak into your window. And after briefly scolding (lovingly) you for your cheap ass, shit locks. He’ll fuck you into the mattress, leaving a puddle. Then he’ll kiss you as he’s leaving before getting caught by Bruce.  

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

I feel like he's pretty open. I think the one main thing he wouldn't do would be those gas station enhancement pills or things like ecstasy etc.. After his mom and being on the streets, he’s not really eager to put anything like that in his body. Also, anything that could cause harm or injury. I really don’t see him being into thing like gunplay, even if you are. “These are for work, not play, baby girl. Though I like your enthusiasm, let's keep those separate.” 

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

Nonstop. The Lazarus pit gave him an endurance boost. An extra perk if you will. Useful for knocking out his enemies and for going round after round in more ways than one. He can last as long as he wants. “Don’t tap out now, love. I’m only getting started.”  

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

I have a personal fantasy of using a vibrating cock ring on Jason. He would like that cause it gives both you and him pleasure. His cock would be twitching like hell. Make him stutter his words. “Fuck..you’re killing me..and I’ve been dead. Keep this on me and it might actually do the job this time.” 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) 

Bastard. That is all.  

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

Jason is a breathy swearer. This man cusses a lot when shit gets hot and heavy. No surprise there. “Fuck..fuck..just like that. Fuck yes. Such a good fucking girl. Make me cum, sweetheart. Fuck” 

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

He doesn’t watch porn to get off. He watches them for the corny plots and laughs at them. You’ll catch him and you think he would have his hand down his pants. Nope. He’s eating chips and laughing. 

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

Under his black Under Armor boxers, the man is packing. Long and a little thick with that vein that runs on the underside. Eye candy when he’s in sweatpants. “Keep staring with you mouth open like that and I’ll put it to use” hell joke. 

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

Very high, but not uncontrollable. Jason is a patient man and has no problem waiting for you to be in the mood. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

Doesn’t fall asleep quickly. He’s the type to smoke a cigarette with you (if you smoke) on the balcony as he holds you. He’s used to being up all night, so he would only nap post sex if if the afternoon so it doesn’t mess with the sleep schedule. “Come here and cuddle babe. We can order something for take out” 

[tillsfan]

a dive into Till’s feelings regarding Ivan and Mizi!

ivantill’s whole thing is being INSANELY complicated. i am a full on believer that they have mutual (unrealized) feelings, but i think the word “love” is definitely too vague to properly describe what they have. vivinos said a “deep LOVE/HATE” relationship for a reason.

i think till both genuinely feeling love for ivan yet hating him at the same time is absolutely reasonable. ivan has pushed and pulled till his whole life. till never felt secure near ivan, as much as he cares about him. but, ivan was always there. till felt comfort with ivan’s presence despite the lack of security he gave. till heavily valued ivan’s opinion, getting upset when ivan implied he didn’t see till as a friend. he trusted ivan enough to attempt to run away with him, and he potentially would have spent the rest of his life with ivan if they actually escaped.

i while love mutual love ivantill as much as the next guy, saying their feelings were 100% romantic is wrong. their emotions towards one another being so raw is something that defines them, which is why it’s difficult to put their mutual feelings into a specific box.

another thing we need to take into account is that neither of them know what love really is. they inhabit a world that isn’t MEANT for humans to love. they were never taught what love is and how to feel it. this is part of the reason they could never develop properly. they live in a world where the concept of romance and relationships aren’t properly established between humans.

but, i do believe like they could’ve had a chance under different circumstances. they were a slowburn that was never able to properly develop because, again, they lived in a world that didn’t allow them to, and they both ruined things for themselves. ivan had a huge tendency to self sabotage because of his severely low self esteem. he convinced himself that his feelings were shallow, and projected that onto till through his actions, confusing and distressing the latter. in addition, till was avoidant of the reality in front of him, ivan. due to till feeling such a lack of security with ivan, and never being able to understand ivan, he avoided intimacy with him altogether. till also just has a fear of intimacy in general. there was a significant amount of miscommunication between both parties.

in addition, saying that till didn’t love mizi is just. false. he dedicated all of his life to her, she was literally his muse. he loved her in his own way, even if he had to put her on a pedestal to do so. yes, he didn’t know anything about her as a person, but that doesn’t mean his feelings weren’t real. saying he never truly loved her undermines so much of his character.

mizi was till’s coping mechanism, yes. he adored her from a distance. he liked the idea of her and not her as an individual, but that doesn’t make his feelings any less real. he loved and cared for her. we saw how torn he was after mizi disappeared in round 5. he almost DIED because of his grief, before ivan ‘saved’ him. his feelings towards her were as authentic as they could be for someone who kept everyone at a distance.

while you could say till’s love for mizi isn’t inherently romantic, the same can be said for ivantill. nothing stated in the patreon confirmed what EXACTLY till felt towards mizi besides her being a fantastical figure to him. and his “love” towards ivan doesn’t HAVE to be romantic (even though i believe it is), it could very much be platonic. vivinos is purposefully vague with what kind of love each character feels because, as i said, feelings aren’t something that can be properly established in this universe.

hope u guys enjoyed my rant Yay 🌹