#if anyone else wants to take a crack at any of these feel free

[aragaki]

Darlin' x Milo.

I know I'm all alone in my little boat here but Darlin x Milo has me in a chokehold and I need to get it out!!

For one, Milo would absolutely call Darlin' Tank instead.

Thinking about Milo and Tank, they've been around each other since they were teenagers. Maybe there was some feelings, some fights. Two stubborn, strong-willed wolves with Asher always going on and on about their will-they-won't-they dynamic, much to Milo's chagrin.

Then they vanish off with some fancy-talking vamp and Milo's left with a yearning he refuses to admit to. He's got other things on his mind. He pretends that Tank's absence from pack meetings doesn't bother him but knowing they're gone, and in a worse place, weighs on him.

Then he finds them, battered and bloody, crumpled outside on his way home. They're hurt. They're half-delirious from blood loss and couldn't help themselves from going somewhere familiar - to someone familiar.

Milo patching them up as best he can, trying to get information out of them but they fight him tooth and nail at every turn. Just like the old days. All he knows is there's someone they're out for, someone they want to kill, and Milo can't tell anyone they're back in Dahlia. And just like Milo says to Sweetheart, as long as it doesn't affect the pack, he can do what he wants.

But it does and he doesn't know it.

Milo's place becoming Tank's safehouse, Milo trying to help Tank as much as he can but they're so tight-lipped about who they're hunting. But the two of them are getting closer. And Milo learns just how out of place Tank felt in the pack, with them, never feeling like they were really accepted.

David confronting Milo, absolutely pissed that two members of his pack are going behind his back. Milo and David, who are at this point more distant after the death of Gabe, and Milo having something to prove to David but has disappointed him.

Milo telling David that Tank doesn't think of themselves as a member of the Shaw pack, and hasn't in a long time, even before they left. Milo having to tell David that he didn't ask who it was Tank was hunting, scared that if he pushed or if he told David and they found out, they'd probably run and they'd never get them back and he doesn't want to lose them again.

Tank confronting Milo at the pack meeting, convinced he was the one who told, furious, hurt, and betrayed again, so tried of being betrayed, but Milo defending himself. Making it clear that he didn't tell David and Tank didn't tell him about Quinn either.

Tank's body being covered in scars from fights and Quinn. Being ashamed and disgusted as Milo, who spills compliments like a fountain, kisses each one of them. Milo's body-worshipping habits coming out at every unhappy frown Tank makes when they see themselves.

Milo buying Tank good looking clothes, fully at his wit's end with their unironed white tank top and jeans. Tank liking the clothes but never wearing them cause they seem so expensive, they should be for a special occasion. Milo's insistence that mulberry silk or not a shirt is a shirt so please fucking wEAR IT.

Asher's vindication when Milo and Tank finally make the leap into being mates. He's been on this train since they were teens, he's been suffering from an IRL slow-burn romance for half of his life!! Will not shut up about the fact that the "pack scrappers" finally got together.

"Bite me, Milo. 😒" "Not in public, sweets."

[netherfeildren]

10:05 PM

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel is exhausted, you're there to make him feel better.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post Outbreak; QZ Joel Miller; Somnophilia; Established Relationship; Friends With Benefits, kinda; Free Use; PIV Sex; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Kind of mean and uncaring Joel, but at least he makes you cum; Rough Sex; Somno may or may not have been previously discussed, but she's okay with it happening; He's in kind of in a hopeless and numb state of mind (likely thing for Joel Miller to be)

A/N: idk man whatever i might look into religion after this

Word Count: 1.4K

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

10:05 PM

He’s exhausted.

That sort of tiredness that takes you away from yourself. The sort that takes away rest and peace and the ability to let go. Like you’ve crossed over the edge of the world where sleep is no longer possible, and all you are is sore and dirty and beaten, and you don’t think you’ll ever rest again. It’s just the too hard day, and the too hot sun, and a night that won’t ever end.

 And Joel is tired. 

He knows if he falls into bed now, he won’t sleep. He’ll stare up at the water stained ceiling, the cracks in the plaster deeper than the cracks in his mind, and he’ll find no rest and no peace and no forget, and all he’ll do is remember. 

Pulling his shirt over his head as he goes, he toes one unlaced boot off and then the other, the sweat damp cotton sticking cold and tacky to his back, and it peels off slow, a little disgusting, the grime of his shift all along his skin, in his hair, between his toes and under his fingernails and looking at you, the slow rise and fall of your shoulder as you sleep so peacefully, he knows he shouldn’t touch you, have you, know you. 

He doesn’t really care.

The button of his jeans, sticky, warm summer night air against his already hardening cock, and he watches you. You’re wearing a little white tank, worn and frayed and old as a long past life, ratty panties, too hot to pull the sheet over yourself, nothing but a sheen of sweat for cover. You’re beautiful in the way things aren’t beautiful anymore. Beautiful in a way that makes him not want you. But you’re here, and you’re his, and you give him things he doesn’t deserve, yourself, and Joel is a selfish creature now, bad and bristled in the way this new world demands, so he takes. 

All the time Joel Miller takes things. 

He doesn’t love you because he can’t, because he doesn't have it in him. But there’s peace here, or comfort, or something easy and silent and freely given. Understanding, maybe, which is all anyone can ask for anymore. He shucks his grime covered jeans and crawls over you, and he shouldn’t touch you, never should have, but he does because, again, he’s selfish, he touches you because you let him, because he has nothing else but this to feel good and man about. 

Hooking his fingers beneath the edge of your panties he pulls them down, slow and steady, watching the rise and fall of your ribs, steady heart in the steady rhythm of your breath. You’re still asleep, and he’s going to have you because he can, because you’re his without commitment or ask or demand. Because it’s easy. 

He pushes a soft thigh up high, opening you to his gaze and pulls your cheeks apart gently, dragging a gentle thumb up the crease of your sex as he goes. You hadn’t waited up for him the way you did most nights, and he’s grateful for this, grateful for the fact that you’d spare him from conversation, questions, wants. All the things he can’t give you and doesn’t even really want to because he doesn’t have any of that in him anymore. 

Sometimes, and he’ll admit it because Joel isn’t a liar, honest to a fault, he’ll feel that faint whisper, dream pulse of desire, like a thing he knows exists somewhere in the world just not inside him that beats of  togetherness or commitment or love. Something that beats of all the things he knows you want but he can’t give. 

His thumb against your little clit, and he circles and circles against the warm, damp dryness. You’re not dreaming of him, no immediate well of slick desire, and through his haze, it makes him a little bothered, a little sad if he still had the ability to be sad. But he circles and circles, and you shift and whimper, and then finally, eventually, there’s that drip of want. Sticky and sweet and only for him because he might not love you, but he does possess you, and you’re only for him. 

You turn your face further into the pillow, hips hitching, cunt dripping, a deep sigh and his thumb presses in, tastes the well. You’re warm and hot and tight, and he slicks his thumb in and out of your cunt, fucking you slow and gentle, stretching you a little while you still refuse to wake for him. He wonders what it would be like to love you, to know you dream of him, to dream of you. He shoves your thigh higher, wet enough now, and lines his cock up. 

Joel is tired, but he has this, and it’s enough.

Cockhead notched at your entance, and one thing he does still love: the sight of his too wide head against your too small hole, the sound of wounded hurt you make when he shoves inside and makes you all his. And he keeps himself slow and gentle at first, he doesn’t want you awake, that’s not what this is, he only wants you his and for him, until he’s all the way pressed inside, deep enough for you to wake with hurt and you shift and wiggle and your hips arch like you want to escape or want more but it doesn’t really matter anyways because you’re caught and flayed now. 

“J– Joel?” Soft as a butterfly while your cunt flutters around him. “What’re you doing, Joel?” And if there wasn’t the moan of his own little whore in the sound of you, he’d think otherwise, but he knows you’re pleased to be woken so. You press and clench and stretch like a cat, spine long and lean and fluid, arms reaching for something he can’t and won’t ever give.

He swings his hips back, fucks in again, your cunt’s good and wet now, and the giving’s good as the take. “Don’t worry, baby. Just gotta come. You don’t gotta do anything.” He pulls back again, your pussy flutters and sucks at him, and you plant your hands against the apocalypse stained wall of this poor and sad room in a place that used to be called Boston and let him use you as he needs. Just gotta come in you, he tells you again.

And you might whisper that it’s okay, it doesn’t really matter if you do or don't’. He doesn’t need to know, he doesn’t need to care. Joel buries his face in your throat and loses himself in the wet of your cunt and the heat of your skin, the scent of your sweat, fingers clutching and twisting at your breast, and there's a sound of hurt or want coming from your throat. He doesn't care much about that either. Just take it, just take it, he says over and over. “Just lay there and take my cock.” The sound of your wet, sloshing cunt is the loudest thing in the whole dead world, and he loses himself in it. He counts his breaths, counts his not blessings, only you, and eventually, he fucks deep enough he hits your womb, that place he’s reckless and careless about, and you start to milk him deep. A moan of his name, Joel, sleep addled, love deluded, what else would excuse or allow treatment like this, and you come on his cock like you always do. Long pulls of a too easy, too delicious cunt, the contractions of your womb reverberating through every line of your muscles while you suck him deep and cry into the pillow. Joel swears and sweats worse than he did through his long twelve hour shift, grunting and panting above you. And when he anchors himself above you on locked, bulging arms to watch the drag of your red cunt around his cock, slicked with desperate want for something neither of you will ever have, the way your ass bounces and jiggles against his too rough thrusts, he comes too. Fills you deep and full to the brim, enjoys the spill of it around the place where he fills you, spills himself dry. And he doesn’t feel content, Joel, but he does feel satisfied, he does feel sated. And he tells you that you’ve been a good girl because he knows you like it and knows you deserve it. And if he presses a soft and gentle kiss to the wing of your naked and sweating shoulder, it isn't because he loves you, but because he needs you. 

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

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[undreaming-fanfiction]

Imagine pretty boy Steve trapped in a mirror for his vanity.

Except he grows as a person so much that his sole purpose becomes boosting self-esteem of everyone looking into the mirror (unless they're being an asshole in which case, bye any semblance of personal worth).

"Looking great, Dustin, go and get them! Oh wait, move your tie slightly to the left, that's it, good job buddy, go go go!"

"Seriously Robin, there's no way your lady isn't all over you the moment you step in that restaurant. Did you wear smudge-proof lipstick? Time to test it."

"No, Nance, it's not weird to ask your ex-boyfriend if you look presentable, I mean, who else is better qualified? Good choice of dress for the interview, you're going to ace it."

"El, it doesn't matter how long your hair is. Yeah, it was so pretty, but it will grow back. But you know what else? You have gorgeous eyes, a wonderful smile and the way you say "mouth-breather" is everything. As long as you have that smile you'll be the prettiest girl around, so don't you dare worry about it."

"Mike, stop looking like someone stepped in your birthday cake, you're a handsome young man and Will is going to love the new haircut. If I'm wrong, feel free to come back and spread mustard all over my frame, but I've yet to be wrong. Yeah, you're a bit of an asshole too, now go and get your boy!"

"Joyce, you're as beautiful as always, but from what I know about Hopper, he'd think you're the most beautiful person alive if you were wearing a potato sack. But this dress is perfect and you look so happy. I wish you all the best on your date!"

"Yeah Jason, looks aren't the issue here...nothing I can do to help you all the ugly stuff on the inside buddy. Sure, smash the mirror if you want - good luck by the way, it's fucking cursed for a reason - but that won't make the truth hurt less, huh?"

And then Eddie accidentally steps in front of him and Steve has never seen anyone so unaware of his own beauty. And Eddie seems to be the only one apart from Robin who realizes how lonely he sometimes gets so he often takes Steve with him no matter where he goes (the big van is handy) and Steve makes sure to shower him with compliments, gradually finding exactly the right doses and right words to make Eddie understand how special he is, how radiant his smile looks, how he's so animated when he talks about things he loves-

And on the day when Eddie looks into the mirror and finally sees himself just as Steve sees him, the mirror cracks and Steve falls out, disoriented and kind of terrified, what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-?!

But Eddie just smiles at him and hugs him, the first human touch in such a long time it makes Steve tear up. "Finally!" exclaims Eddie and pulls him even closer. "No shame at all Stevie, but that frame was fucking heavy!"

[themeraldee]

So the gif set of Homelander trying to surprise Stormfront got me thinking: in the same vein, what if you & Homie were in a secret relationship and while working at the tower he finds you and tells you he has a surprise for you…but unlike SF you get all giddy and go along with him, excited and touched that he wanted to surprise you with something sweet. Imagine his dumb little happy face when he sees how happy he made you. The sweet moment between you would then turn into something spicy as you thanked him for being romantic 🥵😈 that is all 😁

I love this!! you know even if she did come with him at first Stormfront would totally not appreciate the gesture as much as all of us would... just saying. But I love how much of a sap he is!!!! If he found someone who would genuinely love him and someone he would respect he'd be such a giddy, romantic cutie.

I totally wanted to write this because I need to see his gestures appreciated!!! However it turned out a little stiff - hopefully you still enjoy my humble attempt at recreating this beautiful image you painted!! (Also I focused on the romance of it so much the smut suddenly felt out of nowhere so have a smut-free fic from me for once, something I didn't think I was capable of 😂)

[Masterlist]

| 1.4k | Homelander x female!Reader | Established Relationship. Fluff.

This meeting couldn’t get any longer. You spend the entire hour taking notes, actually paying attention to what the Marketing team presents so you can implement any changes they request. That part is easy.

What’s not easy is the way you can constantly feel Homelander’s gaze on you, as if he’s undressing you with his eyes. And knowing him, that’s exactly what he’s been doing the entire meeting. Suddenly you’re glad for the matching set you chose to wear under your professional get-up.

Each day that you keep your relationship a secret he pushes the boundary, seeing how much you can take until you crack and just go public with him. Though it’s not as if he’s not been thoroughly enjoying this little secret affair you two have going on. 

Normally it’s a graze of his gloved hand down your side, or he places it on your lower back as he moves past you. Plus he always gives your waist a squeeze anytime he ‘innocently’ manages to get his hands on you. He’s waiting for someone to notice. Not that anyone would dare call him out on anything. So instead he keeps on toeing the line of what’s appropriate for coworkers to see and what would border on sexual harassment, with them not knowing your relationship history. 

You throw him back a few glances as if to say cut it out, but he just sends you a sly smirk. God, he’s insufferable. Strangely, a quality of his you vehemently love. 

The meeting finally concludes and the rest of the attendees slip out of the room. Now that you two are the last ones in he stands behind you, hands gliding up and down your sides. 

“Stop, you’re untucking my blouse.” It’s a weak complaint, your tone coloured with glee at just having his hands on you.

He leans his head forward nuzzling into the juncture of your neck, inhaling the scent of you. Tailored perfectly to his senses as it’s the same perfume he’s gifted you two weeks ago.

“Come with me, I’ve got a surprise for you.” He murmurs into your skin, the heat of his breath and the subtle vibration of his words makes your stomach flip. A surprise?

“Really? I love surprises!” You can’t stop the wide smile that spreads across your lips, pure delight filling you at the thought of him going out of his way to prepare a surprise for you.

“Good. You’re gonna love this one. Come.” He pulls away, instead wrapping his hand around your wrist so he can tug you behind him. As if you wouldn’t follow him anyway. Again, it’s just another one of his little ways to show everyone else a hint of his true claim on you.

Your office is on the same floor as the meeting room so your journey there is quick. He gently urges you in while having you face him and with a click he locks the door behind you both.

Before you even get a chance to say anything he pulls you in for a kiss. Both of his hands on your jaw, cradling you as close as he can. He kisses you like he’s been starving for it. With the way he whimpers into the kiss the one hour may as well have been a year. You’re no less enthusiastic but it always makes your knees weak at how eager he is to kiss you.

Just as you’re pulling away with a giggle, he captures your lips with a few more kisses, peppering them all over. 

“You’re crazy.”

“Mhm, crazy in love maybe.” Unable to resist the redness he kissed into your lips he leans in again. This kiss is less hungry, more focused on showcasing his love for you with a tender touch. 

“If this is the surprise, I am definitely not complaining.” 

“Charming. But not quite.” He gives your body a little spin, facing you towards the desk in your office.

You gasp at the sight of a bursting bouquet of rich red roses already propped up and arranged in a vase. “Oh my god!” Comes out of you in surprise and with a few steps you’re right in front of them eagerly inhaling the fresh scent. Your eyes immediately flicker back up to him. “Thank you, these are so gorgeous!” You’re so excited and overtaken by the sight of the gorgeous blooms you totally miss the little card embedded towards the back of the bouquet.

You pluck it out. Your finger smooths over the nice feel of the paper as you read the note.

The pre-printed text says With Love. But right underneath there’s an added note in a very recognizable handwriting. 

Happy one month anniversary. 

Homelander, xo

If you told anyone how much of a romantic sap Homelander could be, you’re sure they wouldn’t believe you. Yet nothing fills your heart with more fondness than the ways he shows his love for you. Your eyes turn a little glassy as you softly touch where he wrote his name.

Looking up at him you notice just how unlike himself he’s turned. He’s all boyish and bashful while you take in his gift. Clearly pleased it’s having such an effect on you.

You all but run back to him throwing your arms around his neck. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“Anything for my girl.” He’s smiling just as brightly as you did before, preening at how good of a job he’s done at making you happy. 

“However, that’s not all.” He says with a mischievous raise of his eyebrows as he steps closer to your desk, retrieving a long sleek box from the first drawer. Clearly planted there by him for this exact moment.

“What? Oh no, you shouldn’t have!” You coo at the sweet gesture. He’s every bit the perfect Valentine’s ad and you’re eating it right up. You don’t care for the opulence he brings into your life, albeit it’s a very nice benefit, but you understand it’s the one way he knows how to show his love. So instead of protesting the costs you let him shower you in extravagant gifts. You’re sure at this point that the monetary value of said gifts easily exceeds your life savings. 

He passes you the luxurious box for you to open up and in the meanwhile already he’s pinching the fingertips of his gloves, pulling them off.

You crack the box open, your jaw dropping at the reveal of the bracelet he got for you. It’s not just ridiculously expensive, it’s also personalized. In a cursive font, the back of the gold plate is engraved. With love, Homelander. Just like the card. Part of you wonders which one came first.

Your jaw is still dropped as you sputter in surprise and awe, eyes flickering in between the gift and him. “I have no words. Wow. I mean—for one it’s beautiful!” You’re mesmerized by how the embedded diamonds on the front of the bracelet reflect the artificial light of your office. 

“I’m glad you like it. May I?” He asks but without waiting for an answer he plucks the bracelet from its cushion, discarding the box on your desk.

Nodding you put your arm out, pulling a little at your sleeve to expose your wrist better. With his bare hands he puts the two ends of the bracelet around your wrist. Clasping the dainty chain that holds the slim engraved plate together.

You stare at it in reverence but it’s not the glittering diamonds that have your attention. No. It’s the cold metal pressing against your wrist. His engraved name sits against your skin like a brand. Now you can carry him with you wherever you want. A physical reminder that you’re his. Right against your wrist. You don’t even realize what face you’re pulling. But from the way he’s looking back at you it’s gotta be a good one. The look on his face just tells you that he’d buy the entire store if it meant you’d crack a smile half as bright as the one you’re gracing him with now. 

You let out a stuttered little breath. “I love it. I love you.” You say with such honesty and rawness it catches him off guard. You’re the first person who’s ever been so genuine with their feelings towards him. There’s never been any hidden agenda. You’re not trying to butter him up just to get a favor out of him. You’re as genuine as it gets. A quality of yours he finds invaluable.

He brings your hand to his lips, pressing them against your soft skin. He places a second kiss right next to where the bracelet sits. 

No matter what he knows that for him you wear your heart on your sleeve and now his name on your wrist.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged anytime I publish a new Homelander fic): @infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @nervoussystemss @hom3landr @mrsdesade @nommingonfood

[antiquarianfics]

The Best Things Take Time

Bucky has a code. You manage to crack it.

A/N: This took me so long because I wasn't really sure how I wanted to go about it. I'm pretty happy with it, I think. Also, my first request! I hope I did your brain-child justice. :) Warnings: Mild language. Based on this request. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to repost or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.

----

Bucky Barnes decided early on in his life as a free man that he wasn’t going to try and date—even with Sam and Yori pushing him all the time. His triggers are gone, yes, but he is starkly aware that he still has a long way to go before he might be considered ready to give time and energy to another person on a daily basis. However, if there is anyone in the world that makes him reconsider his own rule, it’s you.

The two of you first formally met when Steve, Sam, and yourself finally tracked him down. You were kind to him, but you kept your distance. He never made many attempts to speak with you, but the short interactions he did have with you were short and clinical. He never asked, but he’s pretty sure you’re afraid of him—of what he’s done.

Despite this assumption, Bucky takes note of the way you drop everything to help him time and time again. You back him in Washington, you back him in Siberia, you back him in Wakanda, and you back him in Washington in the second go-round. He is appreciative—very much so—but he keeps his distance regardless. After all, he shouldn’t risk losing an ally by something as silly as small talk.

Things begin to change, though, when he runs into you at the airport. Both him and you felt the need to get on Sam’s back about giving up the shield.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, a little indignantly. You cringe a little at your tone, but you brush it off nonetheless.

Bucky shoots you an annoyed look before turning to Sam.

Throughout the mission to track down the Flag Smashers, you and Bucky bicker (even more than Sam and Bucky do). You challenge him on every opinion he shares, poke fun at every misstep he takes, and side with Sam for the sake of disagreeing with him. He returns the favor, and he ignores the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth.

Your interactions are not particularly pleasant, sure, but they’re existent—which is progress.

—

“Does he always stare like that?” Walker asks Sam, eyeing Bucky uncomfortably.

“You get used to it,” Sam replies.

You glare at Walker. His attitude towards you and your boys bothers you. His entitlement to Steve’s shield and name bothers you. He bothers you.

“Does she always stare like that?” Walker asks, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Only when douchebags harass my friends,” you deadpan.

You are plenty aware this is the first time you’ve called Bucky your friend, and you can tell he is too by the way his eyes shift from Walker to you. You’re not aware, though, that your concession of friendship serves as the push he needs to talk to you more.

—

It takes time, but over the next few weeks, Bucky manages to get you to open up. He’s surprised with himself by how he’s willing to talk to you; after all, people are usually trying to get him to talk.

Bucky finds out that you’re actually not as reserved as he thought, but you had heard both Steve’s stories of before and multiple people’s accounts of after. Your distance, you admit, was a consequence of you trying to give him space when everyone else was crowding him. Your teasing and bickering with him was a consequence of trying to create said space. The revelation makes Bucky’s heart clench: no one has made him feel so cared for in a long time.

Bucky sticks by his no dating rule, though. After all, you may be friends, and you may be acting nicer to him lately, but there’s no way you like him like that.

Or, at least he thinks so until Louisiana.

—

“Hey, Sarah,” Bucky says, flashing a charming smile at her from where he sits next to Sam and yourself on the dock.

“Hey!” You smack his chest with the back of your hand. “No flirting with Sam’s sister.”

He lets his attention shift to you, and he can’t help the surprise. He’s aware that you could just be enforcing Sam’s demand from earlier, but you’re so adamant. He thinks maybe he sees a flash of jealousy in your eyes, but he thinks, too, he might just be seeing what he wants to see.

Sam and Sarah continue to bicker before she shoos the three of you away from the boat. Sam and Bucky step onto the dock and begin to walk away before you, and they keep walking even when Sarah stops you.

“Subtle,” she says, smirking at you. You wave her off, your face heating up with a blush.

“Shut up,” you say, embarrassment entwined with each syllable.

Bucky thinks maybe—just maybe—you might like him back.

—

Looking back on the last few years, Bucky can hardly believe the journey you and he had been on. Being so distant most of your time together in the first few years, and then being so rude to each other the next few, and then needing a push from the Wilsons to actually do anything about your feelings… it was interesting, to say the least.

He remembers the day you agreed to leave Louisiana with him. It was an impulsive decision, but it led to the first time the two of you had truly been alone together. It led to inside jokes and deep conversations. It led to a genuine friendship.

“I’m headed out tomorrow,” Bucky informed you and Sam.

The three of you were sitting on the porch of Sarah’s house, conversation flowing from friendly jests, to Karli, to the boat, to whatever else. Your head shot up to stare at him, eyes widening.

“What? Why?” Your tone was a little panicked. Bucky raised his eyebrows at your tone. Sam laughed, and you shot him a glare.

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome, Doll,” he said. Ever since the incident with Sarah, he’d let a few pet names for you fall from his lips, and he smugly noted the way they made you squirm.

“Oh.”

“Well!” Sam exclaimed, clapping his palms on his knees as he stood. “I’m gonna go check on Sarah and the boys while you,” he pointed at the two of you in turn, “figure whatever is going on here out.”

You protested, but Sam was gone without another word. Neither one of you spoke for a moment, and you chewed on your lip.

“You’re really going?” You asked shyly.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“You can come with me, if you want,” he offered before he can think better of himself.

Your eyes shot to his, analyzing his face for any sort of jest. He seemed sincere, and once you decided he wasn’t pulling your leg, you responded.

“Okay.”

He remembers the day the two of you finally addressed that you were more than friends. Bucky, of course, has a no dating rule, and you? You had no such thing, but you weren’t dating either. In fact, you hadn’t since before Karli and the Flag Smashers showed up.

Bucky and yourself were at a bar, drinking and laughing with one another. He was sober, of course, but you were a little tipsy. You had a dopey smile on your face that he thought was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. He still thinks your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

That’s when a young woman sauntered up to the bar. She was gorgeous; her long, black braids reached her waist, her lips were painted a bright red color, and she wore a halter top that left little to the imagination.

“Hi,” she said, grabbing your attention, shooting you a flirtatious smile.

“Hi!” You said, the alcohol making you friendlier than you usually are.

“I saw you across the bar, and I was jus’ wonderin’, would you wanna grab a drink with me? Maybe dance a lil’?” Her eyes dragged down your body and back up to your eyes.

Your eyes widened and you blushed.

“Oh, uh! T-thank you! I’m flattered, but, uh, I got my guy right here, and I kinda like him too much to date!” You sort of yell-whispered the confession to the girl.

She glanced behind you to Bucky whose eyes had also widened in shock, his mouth hanging open a little. The woman laughed and touched your shoulder comfortingly.

“‘s alright,” she assured. “Was worth a shot, though.”

She turned to Bucky then.

“Yo, congrats, man. You’re a lucky guy once you two talk that through.”

With that, she had left, and you turned around to Bucky.

“Look,” you said, more sober sounding than you’d been since the two of you arrived at the bar. “I don’t know what you think this is, or what you want it to be, but I’m all in if you are.”

Bucky leaned forward and kissed you without a second thought.

And he remembers the moment he decided he was going to marry you, if you’d have him.

The two of you were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment; after about two years of dating, you insisted you live together.

“Buck, you’re always here. All your stuff is here. I don’t think you’ve stepped foot in your apartment in a month. You’re just wasting money on rent at this point.”

You were leaned into his side, eyes glued to the tv screen. The two of you were watching The Princess Bride (it’s one of the many movies you insisted was so culturally significant that he had to see it). It was the way you would turn to him at your favorite parts, gauging his reactions to see if he loved it like you did; the way you would mouth the most iconic lines along with the characters; and the way you would sigh contentedly and cuddle further into his side at the romantic scenes that really pulled the realization from deep within him. And, perhaps, it was the way you produced the most ridiculous voice to say "Mawwiage! Mawwiage is what bwings us here today!" that truly brought the idea of marrying you to the forefront of his mind. Regardless, he knew he wanted you around for the rest of his already over-extended lifetime.

—

Bucky Barnes decided early on in his life as a free man that he wasn’t going to try and date, and he decided late in his life as a free man that he wasn't going to ever try and date anyone other than you. So, here he finds himself, kneeling on the ground in front of you with a ring extended towards your person, and hoping you'll say yes.

"Sweetheart, I know we've had a lot of ups and downs. We met when I wasn't truly myself, we got together when I was still figuring out who I am on my own—without Steve, without HYDRA—but no matter what, you've been there for me. You're still here for me.

"You deserve the world, Doll, and I want to give it to you. I want to be here for all your ups and downs, and I want to spend my life being to you what you've already been to me.

"You're my partner, you're my best friend, you're the love of my life. And if you'll have me, I'll be your king, if you'll be my queen. I'll be your husband, if you'll be my wife.

"Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?"

You let out a laugh through a sob, pulling your hand to your face to quickly wipe your tears away, and you nod vigorously. You drop to your knees, pulling Bucky's face into your hands, caressing his cheek gently. Smiling, you respond.

"James Bucky Barnes, of course I'll marry you."

[inmaki2]

luxiems reaction to a partner that’s loud in bed

req . pairing : luxiem x f!reader .

smut mdni . 2k est wc .

warnings : mocking in mystas . pull out method in lucas . uhh it’s just filth

posting b4 i sleep.. sry for taking so long with this im a slow writer + kpop blog shit LMAO

- mysta rias

your sounds are a one way ticket to shooting this man’s ego through the roof.

whenever he gets to be on top, mysta thrives in the fact that he can make you feel so good, to the point where volume has no consequence in your poor fucked out brain. of course, this doesn’t mean your boyfriend won’t be a little mean about it — it’s just how he is.

“uh, uh,” mocking the tone of your choked up sounds, mysta can’t help but snicker while his hips slam into yours. “so—“ he’s cut off when your walls squeeze him even tighter, “shit, such cute fuckin’ noises. my dick’s that good, huh slut?”

you don’t even have the strength to vocalize your embarrassment from the cruel imitation, much too preoccupied gripping the sheets for dear life. not to mention the pathetic string of drool falling from the corner of your swollen lips; open mouth allowing more squeals to escape with every thrust while the grip on your thighs tighten.

his pace never relents, even when your walls are practically suffocating him. “c-cum, please pl— ah! please, wanna cum, mysta,” you beg, voice cracking desperately.

the pleads coming from your sore throat only encourage the male to go rougher, one sleek finger rushing down to circle your puffed clit while the others lie sternly across your pelvis, harsh pressure preventing any attempts to squirm away while massaging the bulge his length leaves on your lower tummy in the process.

with you nearly spasming beneath him, mysta smiles wider. “hold it, kay? keep moaning my name louder n’ i’ll consider. let everyone know who’s fucking you this good.”

- shu yamino

it’s like a game for him — what can he do to make you even louder? theres no point in whining either, you can whimper and beg all you want, but your nerd of a boyfriend is rather strict in bed no matter how much he loves your pleas.

shu has your back pressed to his toned chest, a muscly bicep ensuring you’re immobilized by mimicking a seat belt across your waist. his free hand plunges two skillful fingers into your hole, purposely avoiding your clit for nothing but the fun of it.

even so, perhaps it’s the way he abuses that gummy spot so easily, or maybe the sloppy sounds coming from his mouth as he sucks on your shoulder — whatever it is, you simply can’t hold in your cries.

“want.. want your cock now, shu. please pl—!” a slap to your cunt along with the emptiness of his fingers’ absence has you crying out, and it takes everything in your boyfriend’s power to not groan as your ass rubs right on his bulge.

biting into your shoulder, shu tuts in disappointment. “this isn’t enough?” he lazily drags his pointer through your folds, huffing. “i thought you were my good girl.“

“i am, i am your—“ you’re cut off with another slap, yelping in a mix of delicious pleasure and pain while juices flow out from the contact.

“enough,” he spits. “good girls dont complain when they already have two fingers filling them up. they sit there, moan, and take it.” before you can reply, he’s already thrusting back into you, humming in approval when you let out a gutteral sound that can surely be heard outside the room.

“there you go, scream my name when you cum.”

though you can barely think, you use your last bit of strength to mumble out, “do— do i get your dick after?”

this has shu letting out a chuckle even while his fingers are curling into your walls, and you swear you see the tip of his ears turn a shy red. “sure, princess. s’long as you keep those pretty moans up.”

- ike eveland

yes, your boyfriend loves the variety of sounds he can emit from you, but god it stresses him out sometimes.

ike is not up for sharing nor exhibitionism, the mere thought of anyone else hearing or knowing what the two of you are up to has him pausing anxiously, even when the blissful feeling of your thighs suffocating him flourishes. he occasionally wonders how your throat manages such strain, even more so when you nearly howl from the way his lips suck around your most sensitive area.

despite your body weight crushing him, ike manages to pull off for a second to breathe. “no..” you complain, hands rushing to tug him back by the fluffy grey hair tickling your thighs.

“don’t worry, i’ll give you what you want, y/n,” he reassures, pretty face red and sweaty. “but try to stay quiet for me.”

“s’ hard..” almost teasingly, ike’s tongue is swiftly back to licking up your juices, two pale arms hooking around your thighs to ensure you’re fully sitting right on him. his prior request diminishes, in fact, the opposite only occurs.

everytime his tongue pushes into your hole, his nose bumps your clit so perfectly — not to mention the vibration coming from his own sounds against your cunt, hurriedly sending you over the edge. “geez, i say be quiet and you only get louder. bad girl.”

you’ve pretty much tuned him out at this point of your high, which ike catches onto rather quickly. though to your luck, your boyfriend is feeling merciful. “go on— mmh, just cum. as long as you’re ready to get gagged after while i fuck you.”

- vox akuma

well aren’t you just made for this man? being loud himself, vox very much appreciates your openness to matching his volume whether it be intentional or not. his ego is skyrocketing as is, but every time you scream his name, it feels as though something goes off in his brain, resembling a mental pat on the back that has his cock twitching.

“fuuuck, cunt’s squeezing me so damn tight. keep moaning like that, baby.” contradictingly, the man presses your face further into the mattress, plowing his length into you from behind at a dauntingly fast pace. it may sound strange, but vox thinks you look cute suffering underneath him like this.

you aren’t even sure if it’s tears or drool staining the sheets, but the bubbling feeling of embarrassment encourages you to finally purse your lips and stop the erotic noises circling your bedroom.

however, your boyfriend freezes, seemingly accepting this as a challenge.

his hips cease movement almost completely with only the tip poking your entrance, a graceful hand running up your sides as he whispers. “oh? what’s this?” suddenly, you feel yourself being pulled up, two fingers turning your chin to come face-to-face with a sinister sneer. “going quiet on me?”

“milord..” as you attempt to speak, your jaw is forced open wider before a glob of saliva is dropped onto your vulnerable tongue.

“swallow,” vox hisses. you comply seconds later even though your cheeks are burning red, body involuntarily squirming in pathetic attempts to run from the length slowly sheathing back inside. “good girl.”

when he’s an inch or two from bottoming out, he pulls your hips back onto him, ejecting a chocked yelp from your mouth at the feeling of him hitting that gummy spot. vox only laughs in response. “so cute.. thinking you can hide those pretty sounds from me.” an offended tch leaves his lips. “do that again and you’re not cumming tonight, m’kay darling?”

- luca kaneshiro

luca’s main goal in bed is just to please you as much as he can, so being loud does nothing but make him feel pride and act as a sign that he’s doing well — especially now when he’s putting all his strength into making you both reach bliss.

legs wrapped tightly around his waist, you let out a groan as his cock plunges into you harshly, the girth and length making your eyes squeeze shut by the fullness. “please luca..”

he grunts, sweat rolling down his face and onto yours. “what- what are you begging for now?” the blonde moves one hand down to your chest, pinching your nipple playfully.

“harder!”

“harder?” luca parrots, a mischievous smirk rising across his cheeks. who was he to say no? “don’t complain if you can’t walk tomorrow.”

regardless of his warning, he quickly obliges, snickering at how a strangled moan is forced out of you with each prod. luca is certainly aware of the racket you’re making, but noise complaints are his last concern when he gets a front row seat to your eyes rolling back into your skull. “jesus, you’re loud. gonna— shit, gonna squirt all over me babe?”

you can only nod in response, hands pathetically gripping strong biceps while his fingers move down to press the bulge on your tummy. before you can make another move he’s pulling you into a kiss, swallowing your sounds right as your impending orgasm washes over you. luca groans himself from the way your walls spasm, struggling to even pull out with your legs caging him in.

eventually he’s releasing all over your swollen cunt and stomach, groaning in satisfaction at his work while flopping down next to you. “hey y/n.”

“what, luca?”

“i think that’s one of the loudest i’ve ever got you. top three at least.”

you open one eye in disbelief, making eye contact with the same idiot who just fucked your insides up. “is everything a competition to you?”

“i’m just saying!”

if u want me to write more make sure to reblog/send asks and tell me if u enjoyed !!!!!

nkox 2023 - do not copy, translate, crosspost, etc.

[letstripdotcom]

why haven’t you? chris sturniolo x fem!reader

a/n: i rubbed my last two brain cells together really hard to make this

summary: you and chris get tired of only hearing each others sex stories and need a taste for yourselves

warnings: language, smut🧌

-

“can you pass me the goldfish?” i asked. “yeah, if you trade me those pretzels” chris pointed at the bowl of pretzels in my hand. “so you’re telling me she asked to do anal?” you laughed continuing the conversation you were having. “yeah” “no fucking way. did you do it?” i asked. “hell fucking no!” he yelled. “you realize you shit out of there right?” i cracked up at chris’ remarks

chris was my best friend and it wasn’t unusual for us to talk about our sex lives. nick and matt never wanted to hear it and we had no one else to talk to, so we just stuck with each other. “what did she say when you said no.” “she got up and left! she left me there hard and needy. like who does that?” he complained. “was she hot?” i smirked “yes” “should have just done anal then.” “fuck you bro” he grabbed a handful of pretzels and threw it at me.

“what was that” i asked “i said, fuck. you.” “oh really?” i smirked. “what the fuck are you on right now?” chris asked. “why haven’t you?” “huh” “i mean you’re always telling me how amazing you are so why haven’t you fucked me yet” i gave him an innocent look. “yeah?” he smirked. i nodded.

i crawled across the couch and straddled his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. “please?” i smiled. he grabbed my neck and pulled me in to a kiss. he gripped my ass with his free hand making me moan. his mouth left my lips, and started kissing my jawline. his hand came off my throat, and both of his hands snaked under my shirt, making contact with my boobs.

i grinded on him, begging for any type of friction. chris groaned “patience baby” he flips me over onto my back. “still gotta treat you right, you’re not just anyone” i moaned, not able to form words. he lifts my shirt off gently “so pretty” he gawked at the sight of my exposed chest. he lowered down, planting sloppy kisses on my stomach.

“there’s so much i wanna do to you. i wanna fuck you until you can’t see straight. can i do that?” he asked. i nodded “you want me to fuck you?” he massaged my breasts “please” was all i could say.

i rubbed my legs together becoming desperate. “just relax” chris said pulling my pants off. “i’m gonna take care of you okay?” i nodded frantically. he took off my underwear leaving me completely naked under him. “gorgeous girl” he was being sweeter than the chris in the stories he told “chris” i whined “you okay?” he asked concerned. “i need you so badly”

his cold fingers made immediate contact with my clit. “how badly do you need me” he asked harshly rubbing my clit, making it hard for me to form words. “s- so- so” i whined “use your words baby” “f-ffuck chris i need you now please” i stuttered. “good manners” he immediately shoved his fingers inside of me, pumping in and out at a fast pace

“oh my god” i moaned, my back arching off the bed. he added his thumb, rubbing circles on my sensitive clit. my vision was getting fuzzy because of the intense amount of pleasure. “chris chris chris chris chris” i cried out “is this what you wanted?” he grunted. all i could do was nod “words.” he demanded. “chris i’m g-gonna cum” i threw my head back.

“you wanna cum? i can feel you clenching so hard around my fingers” “please chris” my legs were shaking and i was so out of it i was struggling to form words. “cum all over me” his permission was all i needed before i snapped and came undone all over his hand. “good” he smiled.

“you ready for more” he asked, but i don’t think he was really asking because before i could speak he had my on my hands and knees. he grabbed my ass and left a few kisses on it. “i’m not gonna ask you to do anal i promise” i laughed “can you pls not make jokes like that when you’re on your hands and knees it makes me uncomfortable” he laughed.

he then stood up and removed his sweatpants and boxers. “okay you ready?” he asked, stroking his dick a few times. i nodded before he rammed into me, not giving me any time to adjust. “mm you feel so good” he moaned. he speeded up his pace hitting my g- spot every time he entered me. my legs shook making it hard to stay up, so he wrapped his arm around my waist.

“it’s okay baby i got you” he kept fucking into me at an insane pace. “chris i’m cuming” i cried out, releasing all over his dick. “good job baby, i’m close” i moaned and shook and twitched from the overstimulation. “oh i’m cl-close” he whined before releasing his cum deep inside of me.

he pulled out, and let go of my waist, dropping me on my stomach. he laid down beside me and kissed my forehead. “you should have asked much sooner” he whispered, out of breath. he pulled me into a sweet kiss. “okay let’s go shower” he said, picking me up, and guiding me to the bathroom.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n: the freaks voted for the more smutty smut and the original version was a lot more smutty, but it was a lot so i cut a lot out.🙂

[octoberautumnbox]

Yasss, time has come for more Yuri fics, looking forward to a Yuri ult stan :>

Thing with Yuri is, you can never know what to expect next. One moment she's a fluffy puppy cuddling with you then the next she's got you in her grip edging you all day. Just a crazy switch brat. Though that's why I fell hard for her

Enjoy

IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri & Male Reader

Word count: 2882

Categories/warnings: smut, alcohol, implied violence & blood, very slight dubcon, blowjob, handjob, breast play, cowgirl, kiss-and-fuck, only a little bit rough, okay maybe a tiny bit more rough. 

a/n: got way too into the setup im so sorry ill put a marker down there for the actual smut. also big thank you to @iznsfw for the pic ive been looking for this forever. lastly not proofread nor beta’d bc i still haven’t reached out to anyone seriously for writing tips and stuff yet aaaa

Everyone said Yuri was a good person: all sweet-looking, nice to everyone, takes a joke just as well as the next girl. Wouldn't hurt a fly even if she wanted to. There was something about her though; you couldn't place exactly what, but you were convinced nobody was that naturally sweet. Something was up with her.

It's a good thing then that she wasn't anyone particularly important. Jo Yuri was just another person that you'd never needed to talk to in the six months since class began. It was easy enough to ignore her, and ignore her you did. 

"You've been cooped up for way too long. Come on, 8 pm. Round of drinks on me if you show. Leave right after if you want. I swear. Just enjoy yourself." Your friend loomed over the table, blocking the light from your copy of 1984. Putting your palm on the top of his head, you closed your grip around a handful of his hair and pulled his head to where your book was sufficiently illuminated. "I'll think about it," you mutter before looking back to the yellowing paper. "Ryujin will be there too." Your friend occupied the seat next to you, rubbing his head where you grabbed. "And her friends. Isa, Minjeong, that cutie from ours you hate so fucking much," he says with a smirk, as if it was the checkmate that would make you drop everything and go. "Didn't take her to be into that type of thing," you say without looking up, "Ryujin, sure, but – what's her name? Yuri? – Feels like she just couldn't say no." He shrugs. "Maybe. What matters in the end is she'll be there, she's single, and she's got a hell of a rack." "Fucking perv. Anyway, I'll think about it." He smirks at you again. "Not because of Yuri, god dammit."

~~~

You shut your laptop and stretch. You rub your eyes for a good minute before wiping away the fatigue to find your clock striking 7. You stare at it, as if intimidating it to go faster and faster to past 8 pm so you wouldn't have to go. Defeatedly, and with regret already seeping into your mind, you get up from your chair and grab a towel. 

~~~

“Hey, long time no fucking see!” Ryujin swings her arm around your shoulders and spills half her drink onto the floor. “Hey, Ryu. Glad to see you're already half-shitfaced this early into the night.” “Fuck you. By the way, meet Isa,” she says as she drags you towards one of the booths. “We've met. Hi, Isa.” She waves and downs a shot of gin. “Who convinced you to come all the way out here?” Isa slams the shot glass onto the wooden table, nearly cracking it and probably denting the wood. “Ah, also shitfaced. I was just free, that's all. Nice to see you again.” She waves again before burying her face in her hands. You drop Ryujin onto an open space in the seats before heading for the bar.

“There he is! Fuck you, man. Stay a little!” Your friend turns around and yells, “Round of drinks on me!” The bar roars with cheers as you take a seat on one of the stools. “Glad you could make it, dude! It’s been forever! Hey, enjoy yourself. See any chicks you like? Maybe enjoy someone else too?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you obnoxiously. Thinking he’d be distracted within the next five seconds, you mutter to the bartender an order of a bottle of beer. Just then, you watch as your friend is approached by another guy, talked to a little, and then dragged off in a semi-drunk daze away to some other group. 

“Three margaritas, please.” You turn around to the stool on the other side of you. “Oh, you’re in my class, right? I don’t think I’ve introduced myself. I’m Yuri,” she says with the cutest smile you’ve ever seen. The bartender places her three drinks on the counter and pops the cap off your own before setting it in front of you as well. “Right, I like your top,” gesturing to a little chain by the neckline. “Do you need help carrying those, by any chance? Or are all three of them for you?” She chuckles shyly. “Would you mind giving me a hand bringing these over to the booth with Isa and Ryujin over there?” 

~~~

Your phone reads 11:00 pm. Ryujin’s face is practically glued to the table, and Isa continues mumbling into her palms about her teddy bears wondering why she hasn’t come home yet. Your friend is sitting next to and has his arm around Ryujin, and you can guess where his free hand is. Knowing you’ve drunk a few yourself, you get up and walk cautiously yet in no straight line towards the toilets. After doing your business, you wash your hands and leave. On the way out of the bathroom, you set your mind to wake up Ryujin and offer to see her and Isa home. 

As you make your way back to the booth, you find a pair of guys huddled by a corner. You see between them a familiar figure. In your daze you fight to recall why it’s something you can recall, and then it hits you. The glint of the chain on her neckline catches your eye and you walk over to them, for the second time regret seeping into your mind before anything even happens. You’re way too drunk, you think to yourself. Whatever happens next is a bad idea, but you steel your resolve that it has to happen.

“Oh, Oppa!” She turns both guys’ attention to you, and they start throwing you dirty looks. “Hey, come on. Everyone’s drunk, we’d better go.” You make for her wrist, but one of the guys pushes you back. You notice the other guy has his hand on her shoulder, keeping her against the wall. “Why don’t you look after your friends, and we’ll look after her?” “Don’t make me do this,” you quip as you take a step forward again. After hearing them chuckle, the alcohol takes over you, your vision flashes, and finally fades to red. The last thing you remember is swinging high and kicking low.

~~~

You slowly come to, raising your head from the headrest. A stinging pain and a cold touch on the corner of your mouth greet you as your vision stabilizes from quadruple, to triple, and to double, before settling your focus on a bottle of antiseptic solution on the coffee table in front of you. Immediately, you shut your eyes as tight as they can go, deciding wherever you are is too bright, and deciding that the pain on your temple and across your forehead has something to do with how hard you’re shutting your eyes. 

“You didn’t have to do that. I was just about to leave.” You hear pieces of ice clink against each other as the cold touch moves to your forehead. “Hi, Yuri. They didn't do much worse to you did they?” “No,” she says in a relieved tone, “you saved me. It was a lot to take in honestly, but they’re worse off than you are. Thank you.” The cold spot again moves to the corner of your mouth. 

You struggle your eyes open and find her right up in your face, inspecting what you think is a wound by your eyebrow. She notices you staring at her and she backs off quickly. “Sorry… That one looked pretty bad.” “Thanks for looking after me. Where are we?” You try to sit up, only to be forced back down by a number of painful spots all over your back and torso. “You fought them, they fought back,” she pushes you down firmly onto the sofa and brings the ice bag back onto your face, “you won. We got back to the booth, and you made me call a taxi. You carried Isa-unnie and Ryujin into the taxi,” she hands you a glass of water, which you begin sipping, “and I got the other oppa. We dropped off Isa-unnie, then your friend. You wouldn’t tell me where to drop you off,” she takes the empty glass, “so I had no choice but to bring you here. Ryujin is upstairs in her room.” 

You sit up more comfortably. “Thanks, Yuri. I owe you one.” You check the time, and find it’s 2:00 am. “Sorry for intruding so late. I should go–” “You’re…” she interrupts. “You're in no condition to go home alone. Spend the night. Please?” She looks at you with a pair of puppy dog eyes and flashes a heart with her hands to you. “I… Thank you.” You lay back onto the sofa, the fatigue you didn’t know you had overwhelming you into oblivion.

~~~

(smut starts here)

You open your eyes slowly, taking advantage of the darkness.The first thing you notice are the closed pink curtains, and next is the fluffy scent of baby powder and fresh shampoo. You continue trying to get your bearings, and an immense wave of pleasure shoots up your spine. You look down and see Yuri licking your dick up and down, savoring each stroke of her tongue and letting her spit cover every inch. 

You place a hand on her nape, and she looks up at you. “Oh, good morning. Am I doing this right, Oppa?” She takes another long drag of her tongue from the base to your tip, causing you to moan lightly. “I’w thake that ash a yesh,” she mumbles as she places the head of your cock onto her tongue. “Yuri, what are you…” She takes half your length into her mouth and hollows out her cheeks to suck you off. She releases your dick with a pop, “I feel like I haven’t thanked you enough for last night. Call it even?” She smiles as innocently as can be, and then takes your cock into her mouth again. “Please tell me if you feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop if you want…” “Keep going, baby.” She blushes at the sudden use of her pet name, but returns to her work of thanking you much more profusely than you ever imagined. 

As she continues sucking you off, you snake your hand towards her nightgown and onto her left breast. You ease back into the bed and fondle her through the smooth fabric, earning her own little moans vibrating through her throat and onto your shaft. She lets go of your cock once again, and pulls the straps of her gown off her shoulders. She pulls the smooth dress down, exposing a cute and perky pair of breasts. “Please ogle me a lot, Oppa…” She grabs your shaft again with one hand and makes long and slow strokes up and down your entire length. With her other hand, she takes yours and places it onto her left breast. “Just enjoy… Just enjoy me.” 

“Jack me off faster, baby,” you command her, and she moans slightly at the name again. She goes faster and her grip grows just a bit tighter. She maintains eye contact with you as best as she can despite you pinching her hardening pink nipples, drawing her to close her eyes and let her head lull back. You motion for her to use her mouth again and she obeys immediately, bending over to your dick and granting you easier reach to fondle her other breast. You pay special attention to how she likes her nipples played with, tracing circles along her areolas before taking her nubs between your index finger and thumb to squeeze and tug. In return, she grows a bit more careless with her blowjob, letting her mouth leak more and more saliva, as well as taking in more and more of your length before finally hitting the back of her throat. You accidentally tug on her boobs a bit harder, causing her to moan onto the tip of your dick. You start feeling guilty when she starts sliding your cock out of her mouth, but as you get ready to apologize she lifts up the bottom hem of her nightgown, showing you her clean shaven pussy. She gathers her whole gown into one bunch by her waist before pulling it over her head to leave herself completely naked for you. 

“Please tell me you like me, Oppa…” She pleads slowly and carefully, while bringing your hands to her chest once again. You relish on the warmth and softness of her breasts that you only realize she’s already straddled you and has started stroking your cock again. “Tell me… I want to hear you say it, please.” “You’re so,” she gives you one rapid stroke, “fucking,” she moans as you fondle her more roughly, “hot,” she forces herself to look straight into your eyes again, “Jo Yuri.” She speeds up her handjob, finding it harder and harder to maintain her eye contact in favor of shutting her eyes and letting the pleasure overtake her. “I’m close.” She strokes you rapidly, noticing how your legs are starting to shake, her gaze growing more intense, her squeezing you tighter, your moans getting louder, your grip on her boobs getting rougher and rougher and rougher, until–

She lets go just as you’re about to cum, “Oppa… did you cum?” “Not yet, baby, why’d you stop?” You groan disappointedly at her. “I’m sorry… It’s just… you have to enjoy me more.” She brings her soaked pussy above your cock and rubs the tip all over her lower lips, smearing your precum and her slick together on her hot cunt. You groan again, and she gets the message. Bit by bit, she sinks herself down onto your dick, relishing in the sensation of a huge and girthy cock filling her up. You accidentally squeeze her soft tits too hard again, and with an apologetic harsh tug on both her nipples downward, she abruptly slams herself down onto your waist, taking in your cock to the hilt. You feel every inch of your dick being squeezed by her pussy and soaked with her love juices, and at the end of it you feel your tip prod against what must be her cervix. 

“Never got my toy this deep into me before. Do you like it, Oppa? Does my slutty little fuckhole make you feel good?” She grins evilly at you as she leans forward for a kiss. You barely process her amazingly naughty words before she starts riding you, lifting herself up until only your tip remains in her, before slamming herself down again, taking your entire length into herself. You relish how her cunt clenches around you so lovingly, how tight she is that there’s no way this doesn’t hurt her, how loud she moans while you feel your cock quickly entering and exiting her pussy. 

She plants her elbows on either side of your head and cradles your face right in front of her bouncing chest. You take her right nipple into your mouth and she moans all the more loudly, rides you all the more violently. Your right hand grabs her left breast, fondling it the way that drives her crazy, and your last free hand gripping her ass as a hold to guide her up and down your cock. “Yuri,” you mumble with her nipple between your teeth, “I’m close again…” She rides you harder and you find it more difficult holding it in. You pray she lets you cum this time, calling upon a God you once knew, but also you pray that she lets you pull out first. Or not. As long as you cum. 

You begin sucking more harshly, and she responds by riding you faster; she grinds on your dick and drags your cock over every inch of her warm, wet walls. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, aching for her own release as well. Your grip on her ass tightens too, so much so that her cheeks spill out between your fingers as you pull her closer and pump into her as deep as you humanly can. 

You must’ve hit every last one of her good spots. A scream tears through her throat as she lifts herself off of you. Her cum sprays all over your waist, your cock, her bedsheets, and she even has the indecency to rub her clit all throughout, causing more and more of her cum to spray everywhere. You watch her through her climax, admiring the way her thighs jiggle with every jerk of her hips, the way her nipples stand erect on top of her bouncing boobs, the way her face contorts with an ungodly amount of pleasure she’s never experienced in her life. She falls forward, pressing her still-leaking cunt on your dick, and her breasts onto your chest as she heaves deep breaths through what should be a now-bruised throat. In a raspy yet sweet voice, she asks, “Was it good, Oppa? Did you like the feeling of pounding your horny pleasure girl’s tight little cunt?” She snuggles into your neck and plants little kisses along your jawline. “I haven’t cum yet, baby…” you admit quietly and out of breath. “Oh? That’s fine, Oppa. It just means you can enjoy me more.”

a/n: whoa that was way longer than I ever thought I could write at this point. all of that just this afternoon and only in response to the ask lol. this wasnt in my WIPs tbh and it was just a random BFH that accidentally took me... five hours to write? again im glad how it turned out thanks for reading all this youre awesome

[dameronology]

home (frank castle)

warnings: a little bit of frank being depressed but that's about it. probably language too? i don't even notice anymore.

this is the first thing i've written in so long and it's very short buuuut i hope you like it

--jazz xx

You could always tell when Frank had had a bad night.

The signs were clear as soon as he got home. Boots thrown to the side with a loud thunk (he would apologise for the noise in the morning); body haphazardly hitting the mattress beside you as he let out a huff of exhaustion. Normally, his hands would be on you before he even in bed. He had to sleep with his chest pressed to your back, arms wrapped tightly around you, any signs of breaking free met with intense refusal until the morning. You felt safe but he felt safer.

Tonight was different. You heard the crash of shoes, and the thump, thump, thump towards the bed. The mattress dipped beside you but instead of his hands, you were met with Frank's back to you. It was tense, littered with pink scars and red ones, and fresh cuts and bruises. You could have reached out, but you didn't want to push it. A few years ago, before you, before this, before he'd learnt love again, he probably wouldn't have come home at all. He would have stayed out til the crack of dawn, fighting, fighting, fighting; fists beaten to a pulp and every part of him rigid and exhausted to his very core. Frank had learnt now: when he got really bad, he had to come home. When the going got too tough even for him, it normally meant it was the end of night. You were just grateful he had come at all.

You said nothing; just a small sigh. For him, for you, for whatever the morning would bring.

10AM came quickly. It was a Sunday, so Manhattan was nice enough to wake a few minutes later than usual. The silence in your bedroom was quickly filled with the sound of horns and brakes and the yells of the outside world. You didn't have work that day, thank god. That meant there was no rush. Frank could rise whenever he wanted.

Except - fuck - you had forgotten to turn off your alarm. It came blaring out your phone as soon as the clock struck on the hour, vibrating across your bedside table and onto the floor with a loud thud. Frank, being the world's lightest and potentially most dangerous sleeper, quickly rose. His hair was getting longer now, so it was tuftier in the mornings. You would have laughed if your chest wasn't so heavy.

You quickly hopped out of bed, sheepishly picking up the phone.

"Shit," you muttered. "Frankie, I'm sorry."

He let out a grumble, rubbing his eyes. "It's okay. I had to wake up at some point."

"Are you okay?" you quietly asked. "I know you're not but...I gotta ask."

Frank didn't say anything - instead he just sighed. Then, he opened his arms and ushered for you to come back to bed. You did so without hesitation, dropping into the sheets beside him. Strong arms wrapped around you instantly, holding you to his chest, one hand cupping the back of your head. You'd always found irony in the fact that he had to be the one to hold you when he was upset. No matter how shit he was feeling, Frank was always the big spoon. His ability to protect you was the one thing he could control. It was the one thing that made him feel a little okay again.

"It was a really rough night," he quietly admitted. "I'll be okay, sweetheart. I just wanna take it easy today."

Frank said nothing else. What he had said was beyond anyone else's wildest dreams; this was coming from the man who made a point of closing himself off, from refusing himself love and anything good. You were the only person he would ever say anything too. It was safe to assume at any given moment that he wasn't okay, but he was a little closer to it when he was with you.

The rest of the morning went like a ghost.

You moved around each other with ease; his small touches lingered - a hand on your back here, another on your hip there - and you could tell he was coming back around. Sure, he burnt the first three pancakes and didn't realise the milk was out of date til after he'd poured it into your coffee, but he was being Frank. You would have been more worried if he'd cooked properly or made good coffee.

You'd moved to the sofa by midday, dirty plates piled up in the sink and Max snoring on the rug in the middle of your living room. Die Hard was playing quietly in the background (Frank argued it was an all year round movie). You were sat between his legs on the sofa, large thighs either side of yours and arms wrapped around your front. He had his head resting on top of yours, giving you the occasional squeeze with his legs and arms.

"I love you," Frank quietly murmured. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You turned your head to look at him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I love you too."

"I'm sorry for being quiet last night. I didn't mean to ignore you."

"You don't have to apologise," you hummed. "I'm just grateful you came home."

"I'll always come home."

[2jinbi]

hi everyone :3 this is my first time ever writing anything. i’ve never written anything before but i have really bad jjk brainrot right now so i created this account to dump this stuff on. please ignore any spelling mistakes! english is not my strongest suite. im good at it but yk, im not an experienced writer. please feel free to give me criticism. i also dont know if this is formatted right because, well, refer to what i said before lol.

warnings: aged up chars, fluff, slightly ooc, uncle yuuji n auntie nobara 🥹, baby’s name is fumiko (fumi for short), just something fun and short and silly

“no, you can’t eat that!” nobara takes the rubix cube from the infant’s hand. she throws the rubix cube somewhere else as she goes back to filing her nails. she’s left wide-eyed, and you can already tell by the look alone she’s about to start crying. you never understood. yes, she was a baby, but even so, questions are questions. you stop what you’re doing and kneel down next to fumi.

“shh, come here,” your voice is a barely above a whisper. she bursts into tears and starts crying loudly as you place her on your hip and bounce her gently.

“somebody shut that damn baby up, please. focus is key.” yuuji says without sparing a glance at you. he’s too focused on his chess game—you can tell by his body language and posture. yuuji had picked up the hobby literally out of nowhere. you went over to his apartment one day and saw a huge chess board spread across his coffee table. “i learned chess three days ago. todo taught me. he beat my ass really bad. i learned to win against him, and just out of spite,” he chuckles.

“watch it. that’s my kid,” megumi warns. yuuji eyerolls to that—he knew he could never say anything bad about fumi in his presence. it’s not like he did, anyway. he loved fumi like his own; she was everything to him. he wanted to crack a joke but forgot megumi doesn’t joke about his kid. he heaves a sigh and blinks. “well, your kid is distracting me. i can’t focus with the crying.”

“shut up, yuuji. she’s just a baby!” nobara quickwits. fumi had settled down now, but only because she got tired of crying. you know she’d begin again anytime. “she’s right. babies will do baby things. plus, fumi’s teething now, and she’s in constant pain, so she’s bound to throw fits.” megumi defends. it brings a smile to your face.

“you’re not a very good uncle, ‘y’know,” you said amused. you opened your mouth to speak, but nobara got to it first. “beefing with a baby is crazy to me,” nobara raises her brows and whistles. “no way you guys are ganging up on me.”

fumi starts fussing again, and you can see her trying to escape your arms. she’s reaching her father. you frown slightly but walk over to megumi and hand her to him. he smiles warmly at her and kisses the top of her head. “hi baby,” he says softly. yuuji already accepted defeat. he knew megumi wouldn’t finish the game like this. “you’re so cute, baby. so cute,” he cradles his baby. you’re in awe at the sight. megumi never spoke like this to anyone—his voice was never this soft spoken unless it came to you or his daughter. you notice fumi’s eyes flutter, and she yawns. in a matter of minutes, she’s sleeping. megumi walks to your room and places her in the crib.

“she’s sleeping now. don’t worry,” he walks over to you and places a chaste kiss on your lips. “you’re so gorgeous. i love you so much.” you feel your cheeks heat up intensely. nobara audibly retches, and yuuji looks away, embarrassed. “ew. please get a room.” “agreed!”

megumi’s face twitches. “shut up!”

[blackmoonowl]

ok but what is something han(d)cock, nick valentine, danse and macCready would only do for you and not for anyone else

Only for you

Things they do for you/let you do and absolutely nobody else.

John Hancock, Nick Valentine, Paladin Danse, Robert MacCready

John Hancock:

He is far more committed to you than anyone before. Before he met you he wasn't too interested in exclusive relationships, simply sleeping around, but now he doesn't care too much about anyone else that way.

You have the biggest scary dog privilege. People are terrified of Hancock and he uses that reputation to make sure nobody gets too comfortable disrespecting you.

You can thieve his coat, his hat and all that. Just don't damage it. If anything he likes it when you wear his stuff, makes him feel a bit more possessive.

He makes sure people of Goodneighbor like you a lot. Those who don't like you, have probably been threatened into not trying anything to harm you. That, or they mysteriously just go missing. Whitechapel Charlie also gives you free drinks now.

If you're running around Goodneighbor he might ask the Neighborhood watch to keep an eye on you. He doesn't tell you this, but he does it just to be sure. Last thing he wants is to lose you to some jackass who thinks they have the right.

Might begrudgingly cut back on chems and booze a bit if that's what you want. He won't give it up, but he's willing to take a bit less for you.

Nick Valentine:

Lets you run your fingers over the spots where his 'skin' is missing. He doesn't mind you touching him there, as long as you're careful about it.

You get to hear about all his cases. He often rants to you as he tries to put a case he's stuck on together. You're his shoulder to lean on and he appreciates you hearing him out.

Often buys you things from Diamond city's markets. Not uncommon for him to come home with things he thinks you'll like. He carefully studies your habits, the way your eyes lit up when you saw a specific item the Surplus had. Nick told you he had to stay behind a bit and when he came back, he had that exact item held behind has back as he greeted you.

Talks about you quite often with the Diamond city residents. You quickly found out the people within the settlements were a lot nicer to you, even if they questioned why any sane person would be with a synth.

Like a mom, he has a knack for finding random items you lose. You tell him you've been looking for your pistol for literal days and he just pulls it out from under your bed as if it's nothing.

Writes down important dates, anniversaries and whatever else is important to you so he doesn't forget. Part of his wall is just full with random notes about things he doesn't wanna forget about your relationship.

Paladin Danse:

Smiles a whole lot more for you. He cracks smiles more often when you're around, and he seems to get a bit more comfortable with his newfound emotions.

talks to you about how he's doing. His fears, insecurities, how he struggles with his new identity as a synth. He trusts you to reassure him, to make him feel like he's someone after he lost it all.

You're the only person he trusts with his power armor, along with his weapons. You could utilize any of it and he wouldn't really bat an eye anymore, even if he's hesitant at first.

Would actually tolerate synths and ghouls for your sake. He still dislikes them, but he'd be a bit more polite if you were fond of them. He would also feel kind of bad if you scolded him about his prejudice.

He kind of acts like a body guard when it comes to you. He has no issue putting his life on the line to protect yours. Also, he secretly believes your life is worth more than him, as he's just a synth, though he won't say it willingly.

Has actually done some repairs to your weapons and any power armor you have. Last thing he wants is for you to meet your end because you got sloppy with your equipment.

Robert Joseph MacCready:

Absolute biggest defender when it comes to you. You punched someone square in the face? They probably had it coming anyway. Maybe they shouldn't have pissed you off.

Would take a bullet for you, quite literally. He lost Lucy, he would rather die protecting you than be the one burying you. For all his talk of surviving, he's determined to die before you do.

You're the only person he gives things to. He is used to hogging things for himself out of self preservation, but you'd get his left kidney if you asked.

Overall you can get away with a lot more. MacCready isn't exactly the most morally upright person, and he doesn't like when you're nice or generous, but you, you get a pass. He doesn't get as annoyed if you're too generous.

Such a sap around you too. If he's comfortable and you're alone, you get a very soft MacCready. He'll tell you whatever's on his mind as he's snuggled up at your side.

You are the only person he trusts with Duncan. He feels at ease leaving his son with you, like he doesn't have to worry about anything going wrong. He loves you spending time with the little guy.

[princess-tulip-writes]

hiiii 💗 were you thinking about Az and reader best friends taking showers together after a mission? something cute and also very intimate, maybe some smut if you want to put it, feel free. everything that you write is well done, so I will just trust 🥹🥹💗 thank you 🤍

“you don’t have to turn around, az. i’m perfectly comfortable with you seeing me naked.” you snort as you wash your body off.

his back was facing you, hands covering his gentiles to not flash you them. with anyone else, you might have been insecure about being completely naked in front of them, but not with azriel. he was far too sweet to judge and you were certain he could keep his eyes to himself. he was polite all of the time, even while everyone else feared him. he was the least judgmental being on this earth, centuries of friendship proved that to you.

yet, he was still shy as ever, his cheeks tinted pink as he practically hid from you.

“are you sure?”

you scoffed playfully at his question and rolled your eyes at his manners.

“yes, i am positive.” you giggled as you rinsed off your wings.

you watched the planes of his back and stems of his wings tense, as if he was hesitating to turn around and face you. it was cute, you thought. the way such a flirtatious male could seem so shy with a naked female in a small space with him.

suddenly, it dawned on you that maybe he didn’t want to look at you. you were different, everyone knew it. not only were your wings large for a female illyrian, but your figure was plusher than any fae you had met before. it was something it had taken you years to comes to terms with on your own, with some help from azriel along the way. he would make you feel normal, special with his flirty banter and lingering touches but he had never seen you naked, ever.

perhaps he wasn’t interested to and it made him uncomfortable. you grimaced at the thought of that, feeling some self-hatred bubble it’s way into your throat and tying a knot in your stomach.

“you don’t have to. just know that it’s okay to.” you mumbled.

this mission was very stressful, and you wanted nothing more than to snuggle up in bed with your favorite male and drift to sleep. your wings felt heavier than usual, dirt and blood was packed under your nails and your hair felt unbearably filthy. azriel wasn’t much better; blood was splattered across his back, shoulders and legs, with mud caked in his raven hair. his shadows swirled at his feet defeatedly and the muscles in his back looked utterly exhausted, like the mighty wings perched could fall any second. part of you wanted to lift them for him for some relief but you knew better.

a heavy sigh left his lips before his deep voice cracked through the air. “if i turn around, can you promise me you won’t laugh?”

you furrowed your brows, confusion clouding every sense as you stared at his scarred back.

what on earth would you laugh about? you knew about the scars all over his body from protecting loved ones, and they were nothing to giggle about. you’ve even seen him naked accidentally a few times; nothing was laughable about the shadowsinger’s stunning body.

“why would i?”

“just.” he sighed. “just promise me.”

“okay, i promise.” you said softly.

the shadows at his feet whispered to him, a language you couldn’t begin to understand even after years of hearing the unique communication. you hoped they weren’t making fun of you.

azriel puffed out a breath before shuffling his feet around, revealing himself to you sheepishly. his head hung low, eyes trained on his feet and the dark mist that enclosed the tile floor. his body language looked awkward, as if he felt uncomfortable baring himself to you.

not uncomfortable, embarrassed.

you took him in, trying not to let your eyes travel too low but looking him over enough to find what was funny.

you found nothing but a godlike male in front of you, marred with breathtaking faded scars and toned… everything. not an area of him was soft, his body was completely toned.

so what was there to be nervous about?

“azriel, i swear i’m not just saying this, but what are you talking about? you’re beautiful.”

the spymaster’s cheeks tinted pink at your compliment as he shifted his feet nervously under your intentive gaze. he prayed that your eyes wouldn’t catch sight of what his hands tried to cover, that you wouldn’t kick him out and never speak to him again because of it.

“by the mother, azriel, you are so gorgeous.”

you couldn’t stop yourself from letting another praise slip from your chapped lips. it was so easy, especially since he’s told you how beautiful you are plenty times before. the goal wasn’t to make him flustered, or anything really. his beauty was just so enchanting that you couldn’t help but express it.

screwing his eyes shut, he felt all the blood in his body rush downward as your words replayed in his mind over and over.

‘you’re beautiful.’

‘you are so gorgeous.’

“are you okay, az? are you hurt?” you asked as you took notice of his pained expression.

the mission was dangerous, but you could have swore he was clear of injuries— you checked thrice. maybe it was something internal, like an ash arrow splinter or some kind of spell. whatever it was, you needed to rush him to a healer immediately.

without thinking of how naked you both were, not that he was looking anyway, you stepped closer to him and grabbed at his forearms worriedly, paying no mind to the way he tensed harshly. his eyes found yours reluctantly, trying his best not to pay too much attention to way he could fucking see everything given your height difference. even as he kept his focus on your concerned face, the full imagine of you was there and temping him to stare.

“i’m fine. it’s nothing, just a small headache.” he lied.

he should have known better, really. azriel was a fantastic liar, he even did it professionally, but never to you. you could always see through his fibs, big or small. with one knowing look, he would crumble and tell you the truth. just like now.

“i can’t tell you this time, i’m sorry.”

you glanced around the tile walls in thought, trying to come up with what he could possibly be hiding from you. you and azriel had a no secrets rule, one he set when you when on a date with cassian once, and he took it very seriously on his part. so keeping one now was out of character for your beloved best friend. it worried you deeply, like he couldn’t be himself anymore around you. the thought sickened you.

“why? you know you can tell me-“

he cut you off with a long sigh. “it’s embarrassing.”

“and you think me being naked in front of you right now isn’t?”

azriel knew you had a very valid point, even more so considering your past with body image issues, and he kicked himself for being so insensitive.

“it-“ he sighed once more as he tighten his closed eyes. “i’m sorry.”

you were now immensely curious as to what secret he harbored, what could possibly be so embarrassing that he couldn’t even tell his most treasured friend. the way his eyes were screwed shut tight concerned you greatly.

what if it wasn’t his problem, per say, but it was you? what if he was repulsed by the thought of your naked body? so much so that he couldn’t even bring himself to look at you?

so many negative thoughts ran through your mind, causing you to overlook the way his eyes finally opened as your gaze fixated on the bottle of body wash behind him.

this time, he couldn’t help himself. he tested his luck the last time he looked at you, and his restraint was no longer there, exhaustion made it thinner than usual. his eyes flicked to your breasts immediately, and once they caught his attention, he couldn’t stop drinking them in.

his cock was already hard as a rock, the exact thing that had been kept from you, just from the glimpse of your bare stomach earlier from when you tore your leathers off. but now, he was sure it would take him forever to get it down.

“is it me?”

your voice was weak, the exact tone you would use when stressing over your looks to him. it broke his heart into a million pieces to hear you say that, especially when you weren’t technically wrong, but still way off base.

you were right; it was you. you and your godsdamn body that got him in this situation.

“is it because i’m not as pretty-“

“don’t you dare finish that sentence, y/n.” azriel practically growled at you. “because my cock is so fucking hard right now just from the sight of you.”

your breath caught in your throat at his confession. no way this was real. no, this was impossible. a fever dream, you were dreaming. azriel would never think this way of you in a zillion life times, you were absolutely sure of it. this male, your partner, your best friend, was far too out of your league for him to ever think of you this way. he was lying, no doubt.

but he wasn’t, gods he had never been so turned on in his life.

“you don’t have to say that-“

before you could finish, his hands dropped to his sides for the first time since he stepped into the shower with you. instinctively, your gaze flickered to where the movement occurred, a trait from your spy training you picked up, and the whole world stopped.

you always thought in the back of the chambers of your mind that azriel was big, his wingspan and overall energy gave it away— not to mention the rumors around prythian. but never would you have expected to ever see it.

your cheeks heated incredibly, and you were sure he could hear your heart beat quicken.

for a moment, he had thought he made a grave mistake. your silence and wide eyed expression terrified him to no end until he could see your nipples perk up and smell the sweet scent of your arousal.

“az..” you mumbled breathlessly.

“you are the most beautiful female i have ever laid my sights on, y/n. for centuries i have longed for you, and sat by and listened to the awful lies you’ve said about yourself. everything that you hate, wished would change; i have fallen so in love and lust with. I’m sorry, I just don’t have the energy to lie to you anymore and keep myself away from you. I know it may be very uncomfortable for you right now, and I understand if you no longer want to be-“

before he could finish, you smashed your lips to his. instantly, he returned the kiss and placed his hands on your plush hips, giving them a long awaited squeeze.

“fuck, I want you so bad.” he growled against you.

“then don’t hold back.”

[octuscle]

I’d like to know if you could help me! I want to be a professional open bodybuilder (just like Nick Walker, Derek Lunsford), but, at the same rate my muscles grow, so do my male musk (specifically sweat musk from my armpits and cock) - no shower, deodorant or anything else will clean/cover my strong smell - until the point people around me get dizzy with my musk, start to complain and ask me to leave the places. With more muscles and less body fat, more sweating and musk until it reaches a strong level that people start to avoid me from fear of my muscles and my intense gym musk! Could you help me with that? Thanks a lot!

It's always the same people who are unhappy. You're rich, you've inherited, you don't have to work. You look dazzling, you know the right people, you're always invited to the best parties. And you don't feel like it anymore? You want to change that? Do I have a free hand? Then I'll get started!

You're sitting with a few friends in your favorite bar and tell them about your plan. More out of politeness than anything else, everyone says it sounds very exciting. You loosen your tie knot and undo the top button of your shirt. Phew, that's how you get your breath back. But you still need some fresh air, it's too crowded and stuffy in here. And somehow you don't feel like going back to the sissies. You feel more like going home, maybe doing a few more press-ups and then going to bed. After a few steps, you take a deep breath. And the top button of your shirt is blown off your chest like a projectile. The seams of your suit trousers are dangerously taut.

In the stairwell of the magnificent old building next to the city park where you live, the first seams crack. Thank God you don't meet anyone. By the time you get back to your apartment, your slim-fit tailored suit is in tatters. Somehow you're not even surprised. You tear off what's left of your clothes and stuff everything into the garbage can. Even your underpants no longer fit properly and are thrown away. You go naked to your dressing room and do a few push-ups, then squats, then a round of sit-ups until you're drenched in sweat. You stand in front of the mirror. Yes, you've gone through a growth spurt. And you stink. Sweat and musk. Delicious. But you still take a shower. The towel smells awful after drying off. And you don't feel a bit cleaner.

When you wake up the next morning, your cleaning lady has opened all the windows and is airing out the apartment. When she hears your footsteps on the way to the bathroom, she comes around the corner and is about to ask you where this unpleasant smell is coming from. You almost collide. You are still naked, scratching your hairy balls while still half asleep. Your cleaning lady turns bright red with fright. Then she holds her nose. You smell your armpit and say with a grin, "Excuse me, Maria, I'd better go and have a shower". In the bathroom, the laundry basket smells like a football team's changing room. You jump in the shower, but it doesn't seem to do any good this morning either. Damn, you might as well go to your workout. At least everyone there smells of sweat.

Damn, that was a really good workout. You pose in front of the mirror. Your sweaty tank top on the floor. During the workout you were incredibly focused on the weights, only now do you realize how disgusted the other customers are looking at you

You check your reflection again. Holy shit, you look really good, what's wrong with them all? Probably just jealous. You pick up your tank top from the floor. Somehow it smells a bit. You hold it up to your nose. Yes, it's sweat and musk. Maybe a little intense. You love it. The smell makes your cock hard. The sweat stains on your sweatpants are joined by precum stains. You need to take a shower now. And wank.

When you check out, the receptionist looks at you in disgust. He puts some ointment under his nose and puts on a face mask. He informs you that the studio requires a minimum level of personal hygiene from its customers. Several customers have already complained. He asks you to come showered and with fresh clothes next time.

Yes, you smell bad despite the shower. You walk back home because you don't feel like complaining again on the subway. Normally a pleasant walk. But for one thing, your legs are really exhausted from training. On the other hand, you feel that you easily weigh 20 pounds more than you did yesterday. You look in the mirror of a shop window as you pass by. Fuck, yeah! You see the reflection of a serious amateur bodybuilder.

You're too exhausted to climb the stairs to your apartment. You get into the elevator. Mrs. Spencer from the floor below you shouts for you to hold the elevator and barely slips through the closing door with her daughter. She holds her nose in disgust. And her daughter, perhaps four years old, asks why the big man smells so bad. Phew, the elevator isn't big anyway. Today it feels even narrower.

That was all a few weeks ago now. You left your impressive apartment because the stuffy neighbors were getting on your nerves. The nagging was unbearable. You thought that the cheap apartment building where you were staying temporarily was really just a temporary solution. But there are a lot of guys living here who are like you: fuck the opinions of others, the main thing is that you grow up. Really big! When you walk through the front door, you take a deep breath. It must have smelled something like this in a Neanderthal cave.

Since you've been banned from your hairdresser, you cut your hair yourself. You like it, it looks even more brutal and masculine. Even in your hardcore gym, your stench stands out. But here the other musclemen envy you for it. Hehehe, and there's always someone who will even pay money to press his face into your armpit or suck your cheesy cock. Your life is great!

Pics found @antoinepaul and @maxx-magnum

[dcxdpdabbles]

hi I’m a really big fan of yours and I have an idea I think you would love

in the “angel and demon brat” what would happen if Danny was actually there from the start and they actually forgot him also I had it in my head for weeks and I got a headcanon for it to make it angster but you don’t have to add it if you don’t want

since Danny has a very bad health what if Bruce and the kids put him on house arrest and because he tried to sneak out one time he got cheined(? Is that what it’s called sorry still learning English but it’s the handcuffs the villains use on people they kidnapped except they’re not really noticeable which is how Danny noticed his family are acting strange) to his room when everyone is on patrol and the chins are really long but not long enough the he can leave the manor and since he and Damian arrived he never left the manor bruce and the kids always has some excuse to way he can never leave the manor and because of that he doesn’t has any friends also the batfam is way over protective of him then it’s normal so he also can’t meet any of his siblings hero friends also Danny is definitely not week his body is but he’s genius in magic and the cannon things too it’s just that he’s family refuses to let him in on the heroing stuff and since he’s homeschooled he has a lot of free time so he taught himself how to play different musical instruments and learn magic because he can and way not

This is a really nice prompt but I don't want to wrote it out because it makes me uncomfortable.

The chaining him and refusing to let him out to protect him since he arrived sort of feels Yandere.

If anyone else would like to take a crack at it please do!

[ratcash-wasgud]

Hey hey!! Okay, sorry for not being active, sadly I'm lazy. NSFW warning btw, and please excuse me if it's poorly written, I never wrote smut before. Anyways, I'm a huge sub!mizu defender, and I'm willing to die on that hill. (Both are good tbh). Sorry again for this being kinda short and sorry for the possible grammar mistakes. Mwah.

Like swimming in the sunset /part four/

Mizu suddenly froze, and so did you. In the heath of the moment she forgot things could escalate, and she isn't just stuck in that perfect moment. You look at her with wide eyes, and she grabs your hand, pulling it away from her crotch. She just stares, silently, her mind screaming at her for getting this far.

"Is...is something wrong?" You whisper, and Mizu flinches. Yeah, the main problem is that I'm not a man!-is what she wants to scream, but she doesn't. Her jaw just clenches, and she steps away. "Are you, perhaps...not attracted to me?" You whisper, and it's an even bigger surprise. "I...thought men are supposed to..." You whisper to yourself, and look away. "You don't find me body attractive?" You ask, now getting confused.

Mizu's eyebrows shoot up. You expected her to be hard by now... She thinks really hard about what to say...if she should risk it all, or just let you think those sick things. "No, it's...it's not like that." Mizu whispers, and a tired sigh leaves her lips. She leans down, putting her forehead on your shoulder.

"I'm a fraud." She mumbles before she leads your hands to her haori, urging you to slide them down. You just stare at the top of her head for a moment before you get what she wants, and slowly start to lower her haori. The first things you notice are scars...a lot. It makes your insides sting, thinking about how much she suffered. You almost miss the bindings on Mizu's chest because you're so lost in looking at each scar. Your eyes widen, taking the whole thing in. You don't know what to say, or how to say it...so you stay silent.

You gently trace the top of the bindings on her back, as if asking for permission and Mizu quietly hums into your neck. You make sure to not touch any freash wounds as you carefully untie them, and slide them off, letting them hit the cold ground. Mizu doesn't back up from you, so the only way you can make sure that your suspicions are true, you slowly let your palms travel to her chest...and there they are. A pair of small, but firm breasts. They're warm, and you can almost feel goosebumps on them, and your fingertips meet Mizu's nipples, which are now hard from the cold. You pause for a moment, before cupping both breasts, letting their warmth gently caress your skin.

"You're a woman." You whisper, as if there were anyone else who could hear. "Why...why did you never tell me?" You ask, turning your head so you're talking into Mizu's hear, letting it tickle your jaw and chin.

Mizu sighs, and decides to not answer. Instead, she just pushes herself more into your palms. "Do you...whish that I was different?" She mumbles, her heart beating out of her chest, but still feeling a strange calmness. She wants the answer so bad, but she's dreading it at the same time.

"No." You whisper back, gently squeezing her breasts in response, earning a small gasp from her. "I...I don't mind. I just...I wish I knew sooner." You say, now cracking a small smile she can't even see, since she's still hiding in your neck.

"...you don't?" She asks back, now lifting her head to look into your eyes.

"I don't." You repeat, and give her that sweet smile that Mizu loves to get lost in. "It doesn't change you. It's just...the way your body is built, not the way your heart is." You say, slowly leaning closer to her.

Mizu almost tears up. She can feel the tears creeping up in the back of her throat. She feels so free, suddenly. Like everything is taken care of, and she can just...be. She loves it. And before you could see her tears, she leans closer too, and kisses you in a fast and desperate way. This time, she even parts her lips instantly, waiting for your tongue as she pushes herself even more into your hands, her own gently caressing your waist, tracing small circles on your soft skin.

She gasps softly when she feels your hands softly toying with her nipples. She feels vulnerable, but somehow it's not as scary as it's usually is. Usually, she hates feeling vulnerable, since she knows she'll get attacked sooner or later...but now she's not afraid of that.

"I...am not sure how to please you." You whisper as you pull her even closer. "But I want to try." Mizu can feel her insides buring. She wants you to try too. Mizu slowly nods. This is the most vulnerable you've seen her, and you can't help but notice how beautiful she is. You kick yourself mentally for not noticing that she is a woman sooner, even when she has such a lovely face. Suddenly, an unfimiliar wave of boldness washes over you, and you slowly push her down to the ground, making sure that she's sitting on your kimono so that her skin doesn't actually hit the cold ground, and you lower yourself to straddle her hips.

It's true, you've never done this before, but you are not willing to back down. So, you lean in to gently kiss her neck, which earns a small gasp from Mizu, and you can even feel her hands on your back as your hands return to her breasts. You feel how soft they are, and Mizu gets lost in the gentleness of your hands. Every touch she ever recieved had been rough and demanding, but yours...yours are soft, gentle and pleasant. She unconciously opens up her legs a little, and your hand began to slide down her pants. When she notices this, she gulps, but the look in your eyes is enough to make all the anxiety wash away. So she lifts her hips a little, with you on them so that you can slide them off better. When you're suddenly lifted, you giggle and infect Mizu too as you toss her pants aside.

"You're strong." You purr as she lowers you and her hips back down, and Mizu smirks to herself.

"You're just light." She murmurs, puts her hands on your waist, feeling the soft skin with her cold hands. She can feel the callouses on her hands glide on your sides, but it doesn't seem to bother you.

"Not true. I'm a big strong warrior, you see. With tons of muscles." You giggle again and slowly slip out of her lap, to kneel between her legs. Mizu's heart skips a beat when she sees you there, but the smile you give her puts her at peace once again.

"Sure you are. I bet you could lift a whole tree with one hand, huh?" She answers in a mocking tone, until she gasps. She suddenly feels your soft touch at her core, gently sliding one finger along her slit, revealing how slick it already is. You open up her lips with your middle and pointer, and look at her most hidden parts.

"You...you're staring too much." Mizu mumbles, her cheeks slowly going red. She never had anyone actually look at her skin there...she feels more exposed than ever.

"Apologies...you're just too beautiful." You purr once again, and Mizu can feel her blood boiling. She feels...loved. It's a strange feeling, but she quickly gets lost in it. She spreads her legs a little more, and you take that as the green light.

You lean closer and plant a small kiss on her clit, which earns a moan from Mizu. You like that...a lot, actually. Seeing that she can actually moan and make that face...you love seeing her like this. When she's not clenching her jaw, frowning or glaring. With that brand new determination, you keep the kisses coming, and turn them into small licks, then sucks. Your tongue slowly explores all of her, all while the music of Mizu trying to keep her moans quiet is ringing in your ear.

"Louder." You mumble against her entrance, and Mizu's eyebrows lift, and she mutters your name. "Louder." You repeat, and this time pair it with a stronger suck. Mizu lets out a louder moan, leg legs twitching around your head, and you smugly smirk to yourself. It feels good to have this strong, undefeatable warrior melt in your hands. Or your lips, to be exact.

But when you feel Mizu's hand slowly get entangled in your hair, you feel like something snaps. You put your mouth firmly on her clit, and put a finger at her entrance. You hear her quiet gasp, so you lift your head, and kiss her lightly.

"Trust me, okay?" You whisper to her. She's so beautiful like this...you could never hurt her.

"Always." Mizu mumbles back, still lightly panting as she feels your finger gently rub her entrance. She likes this side of you. She likes it a lot. Your eyes are still as sweet and gentle as ever, but...they have this dominance in them too. Mizu never thought she'd like this...or this wasn't how she imagined it. She always imagined you to be fragile and cute in these moments...but this? Oh, she loves this.

You give Mizu one last kiss as you slowly push one finger inside. "You okay?" You ask, and Mizu nods. You're inside her...a part of you is actually inside her...just thinking about it almost makes her moan louder. When you start to move your finger her legs start lightly twitching again and her breathing turns to panting. She's not sure why she's this sensitive...she had someone up there once. And it wasn't even a finger, it was something bigger so why does this feel so much more intense? So much...better?

"You're doing so good." You whisper to her as you softly kiss her cheek, then jaw, then neck. It makes Mizu shiver as she also feels your finger curl inside her, and it makes her bite into her bottom lip.

You give her a small, satisfied smirk and slowly, gently add a second finger inside her. That earns a throathy moan from her, and her back arches in your hands.

"That's it...you're taking it so well. Such a good girl." You whisper to her, and this time she does moan a little louder from the praise. She loves it. When she closes her eyes she only feels your touch, and only hears your voice...like her little paradise. A place where there's only you, and pleasure. A place where she can swim in the sunset and it's warmth.

Mizu moans out your name when she feels your thumb on her clit and both of your fingers repeatedly curling against her g spot. It's almost too much and her thighs starts slowly shaking. "Just...just a little more." She mutters out, and it lights a fire inside you. You start to move your fingers faster, pushing them knuckles deep inside her, and your thumb circles around her clit. You lightly suck on her neck as you get lost in her moans.

Her arms wrap around your back as her toes curl, and with a loud moan of your name, you feel her thighten around your fingers...she did it.

"That's it...that's it." Is the only thing you manage to whisper to her as she rides out her high. You don't want to pull out yet, it's too warm inside her, too soft and welcoming, but you eventually do. When Mizu opens her eyes, you kiss her softly, and you can feel how tired she got just from the way she kisses.

"Let's stay here for a while, okay?" You whisper to her. Mizu snuggles her face into your neck.

"Thank you." She murmurs. Now, she truly...truly feels at peace.

[jennifer-jeong]

Fluff + Comfort | GN!Reader Warm Tea and Hugs

CONTENT Gender neutral reader, reader is ugly crying, shared home, hugs, kisses, comfort, fluff, established relationship, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

AUTHOR NOTES Pick your favorite character and read! The wording might not perfectly fit all characters I’ve listed so I apologize for making anyone too OC. Also feel free to pick a character I didn’t list! This fic is for you and your personal comfort :) Also! If you’re reading and you’re feeling down, I hope this is able to help even if just a little bit. Just know you are indeed doing great and you’re not alone. Please take care of yourselves! Mwah.

ITADORI YUJI, OKKOTSU YUTA, TOGE INUMAKI (SEE NOTE 1 at the bottom), Gojo Satoru, KAVEH, KAEDEHARA KAZUHA, THOMA, KAEYA, CHILDE, VENTI, Tighnari, Xiao, Kamisato Ayato, MARIUS VON HAGEN, LUKE PEARCE, RAFAYEL, Xavier, SUGAWARA KOUSHI, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Kuroo Tetsuro, SABITO, AMAJIKI TAMAKI, NITORI AIICHIROU, HEARTSTEAL APHELIOS (SEE NOTE 2), Heartsteel Ezreal, SHXTOU (vtuber Shoto), Howl, OR any babygirl man <3

WORD COUNT: 996

You weren’t unfamiliar with the current feeling you were having but it still sucked nonetheless. You’ve been having a bad day, week, month, basically it’s just been sucky. One of your preferred ways of coping was just to cry, sometimes with your sad playlist to get it flowing. Basically, let it all out with a good cry and hope it gets better. You were fine to cry alone, if anything it was better that no one had to see you like this. You could ugly cry all you wanted and not have to be perceived. But both fortunately and unfortunately your boyfriend came home a few hours early. He was supposed to be out for work until early tomorrow morning but he wanted to see you and surprise you by coming the night before, albeit late at night. He called out your name happily to locate you within your shared home. You trust him so when you heard him you didn’t feel the need to hide or pretend you weren’t crying. You called out his name to signal you were in your room and immediately he could tell something was off. Your voice was hoarse and cracked and so he quickly put down his stuff to speed walk over to you. When he opened the door and saw you crying he immediately rushed to you to envelop you in a hug. “Baby what’s wrong?” he said with a slight pout and concern in his eyes. He loved you so much and just wanted to make you smile and happy, he knew that emotions were normal and that having a good cry is good, he even does it himself sometimes heh. But he hates to see you cry, it breaks his heart a bit. He ushers you to the bed so you can both sit and hug comfortably. You tell him that it’s just been a lot and you rant a bit about your troubles. You don’t say a lot but he doesn’t need to hear the details to know how you feel and how to comfort you. “I’m so sorry darling. Listen, I love you so much and I’m sorry you have to go through this right now. I wish I could take this all away for you and maybe I can’t but I know that I can try my hardest to try and help. You’re such a sweetheart and a gentle soul and you deserve the world.” He gives you forehead kisses as he wipes your tears with a tissue he grabbed from your table. He hugs you tight as you ugly cry a little from his words. “You’re doing amazing, darling. You’re always doing your best and I hope you never forget that. You’ve told me so much about you and your past and I hope you know how strong you are.” He strokes your hair and your back as he says this. You feel his heartbeat, his body, and the vibrations of his voice against you as he speaks. “Let it out, we’ll get you a snack, and we’ll sleep, you can deal with whatever else tomorrow. For tonight please just rest, you always work so hard.” You pull back to give him a small nod. He smiles at how cute you are even while crying and gives you a long, reassuring kiss. He cups your face with his hands and wipes your tears a bit with his thumbs. You both pull back and you croak out ��I’m sorry that you had to come back just to worry about me and comfort me.” “You always take such good care of me, this is the least I can do. Let me know how else I can help support you. If you need more hugs, kisses, reassurance, or anything at all, just tell me. Okay?” He says warmly, smiling at you with soft adoration in his eyes. You nod again as tears flow out because he’s treating you so sweetly. “Thank you… I love you so much and I appreciate you,” you say, half crying, as you kiss him. “No need to thank me baby. I love you so much too.” You sit with your foreheads pressed together for a bit as you finish crying. “Let’s get you a snack sweetheart,” he says while standing up and offering you his hand. You nod and smile.

He holds your hand all the way to the kitchen and it makes you giggle and your heart flutter. He makes you both cups of your favorite tea but decaf because you need to sleep! He grabs you some of your shared collection of snacks and you head back to the bed. You finish your tea together while chatting about his recent work/mission and you both feel warm from the tea and also just from each other. You put down your cups and lay down to cuddle. He turns the lights off and wraps his arms around you. He lays on his back to let you sleep on his chest with one arm around you and the free one brushing through your hair. “I love you so much. Never forget that. I hope that you also love yourself as much as I love you because you deserve it. If you can’t right now, that’s okay, we’ll do it together, slowly.” You share a few more kisses as you tell him you love him too, that you’ll definitely try, and that you hope he loves himself like that too. Your hearts are full as you drift into sleep together. Maybe the future will be nice, but even if it isn’t, it doesn’t matter. You’ll always have him and he’ll always have you. He’s given you the power to love yourself and you’ve given the same back. Life will inevitably get hard but you feel like that you might just be able to face it because you’re not alone. You both doze off into the night, smiling in each other's embrace.

NOTES (YES I KNOW THEY CAN’T TALK LOL HERE ARE MY EXPLANATIONS) NOTE 1: personal headcanon that will be in Inumaki’s own fic eventually: Inumaki learned to not funnel cursed energy into his speech for short periods of time and he uses it for when you really need to hear his voice, you can also help him suppress the cursed energy by blocking it with yours by mentally aiming it at his throat. NOTE 2: since this is for heartsteel Aphelios (because I haven’t researched regular Aphelios’s lore enough yet) it seems that he can still talk, he just chooses not to. He lost his ability to sing but I haven’t found anything that says he can’t speak or use his vocal chords. In game, he still has the ability to yell or grunt when he’s attacking or even doing his emotes. I just headcanon that he doesn’t like how his voice sounds after losing his singing voice (even though you reassure him he really does sound the same) and it also strains him to speak for too long. But, he will speak to you commonly in short bursts, or will speak when you need to hear him.

|| MASTERLIST <3 || Thank you for reading! ||