#it was supposed to be a lower angle and lots of leg but it looked silly

[usermoon]

🃏

[avocado-writing]

Avo please 😔 do the DP&W fandom some justice.

Please please give us a Deadpool and Logan Eiffel Tower fic (or just headcanons whatever works best for you 💜)

rated e. smut & fluff. minors dni.

There are ups and downs to all aspects of the relationship, you suppose. 

The downs tend to be pretty dramatic: Wade says something thoughtless, or goading, or just plain irritating, and Logan tends to react… explosively. The snik of claws appearing has become a sort of soundtrack to your day. Usually you can intercede in time to calm tensions down but when you can’t, well, they usually end up breaking not only each other’s bones but the furniture too. 

At least you only buy the flat-pack stuff. 

You’ll inevitably tell them both off and force them to repair what’s been smashed, and after a couple of hours and a few drinks they’re in each other’s good books again: Wade is cursing at the SKOGSTA and Logan is trying to suppress an affectionate smile behind a beer. 

But when it’s good? Man, it’s fucking great. The three of you have an unmatched synergy. A lot of your friends are jealous of how easy things are for you, how the pieces just sort of fell into normalcy after your time in the Void. Your favourite place to be is with your legs slung up over Logan’s thighs on the sofa, face buried in your mercenary’s lap, some shitty movie on that Wade keeps trying to guess the twist to. 

And then there are nights like tonight, nights where brief touches throughout the day evolve into caresses evolve into gropes. Inevitably you’re thrown onto the bed, and it’s not much of a wait before one of you is between the others. 

Tonight it’s your turn to be spoiled. 

Logan’s hands dig into your hips so hard you’re scared his claws will flick out. Actually, scratch that, you’re not scared; the idea of it makes you so wet you’re pretty sure he can feel it on his cock. You love it when he loses control. He slams into you even harder when you let out a choked-off little moan, your pleasure only beckoning the beast out further. 

Wade cups your jaw in his hand, angling it open a little further so he can press deeper into your throat. When he’s happy with the angle he slides his grip down to your neck so he can feel himself fucking you there. 

“Fuck, aren’t you a pretty sight, baby?” he hums, running his thumb around the seam of your lips where drool starts to spill. “You should see the way you’re taking his cock. People would pay by the hour to watch that.” He tilts his head to the side, a thought taking root. “Hmm, actually, that’s not a bad idea. Think there’s a market for mutant porn? Nightcrawler must have an OnlyFans, right?”

You slap his thigh to get his attention back. This is why you like him in the middle. Logan can keep his mouth occupied with his thick cock, you can fuck him with your favourite strap. Either way it’s difficult for him to talk. 

You do find it pretty endearing though, all things considered. Bastard, you think, lovingly. 

Logan growls, and for a second you’re not sure if it’s in agreement or aggravation. Luckily he’s quick to clarify. 

“He’s right. You take me so fucking well. Pretty fucking pussy was made for me. Us,” he mutters, voice so gravelly it could pave a driveway. You moan around Wade’s dick at his filthy mouth, clutching the sheets so tight they threaten to rip as he doubles his pace. His cock pistons in and out of you making a wet sound which fills the bedroom and you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so fucking turned on. With every thrust you’re pushed forward, taking Wade so far down your throat that your eyes start to water. 

Messy and desperate is how they like you, and you kinda agree with them. 

Then Logan’s movement pauses for a second, something you know only happens when he’s been met with something totally astounding. 

“Wha… Wade, I’m not gonna give you a fucking high five.”

You pull back, looking to see where Wade is lowering his hand, pouting. 

“Come on, Peanut. You know you want to.”

“Wade, what the fuck?” you ask. “Don’t be weird about this, I’ll bite your dick off.”

“Okay well you did that before and it made me cum, so that’s not the threat you think it is, sweetheart. Besides this right here? This is the best thing ever. Just wanted to find some camaraderie with my boo in the moment. C’mon, you won’t leave me hanging, will you?”

He holds his hand out to you, and you pause for a moment - well aware Logan is still balls deep inside your soaking cunt - before giving in and slapping it. Yeah. This is pretty great, to be fair. Wade pumps his fist in triumph. 

“Knew it! You never let me down. Not even after the dick biting.”

“You actually asked for that, honey.”

“I did! I’m known for my fat ass and incredible ideas.”

A noise makes the two of you turn around. It’s Logan, but, contrary to your expectations, he’s not angry. He’s laughing. It’s a noise neither of you are used to, especially not during sex. He tries to hide the smile on his rugged features and starts gently rocking his hips back into a rhythm inside of you. 

“You’re both ridiculous,” he says, fondly. You exchange a look with Wade, both jubilant. 

Yeah, you are ridiculous - and he fits right in.

Taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse

[ohimsummer]

JUST LONELY, BUT SO FREAKY ft. SUGURU GETO

— minors dni, suguru x fem! reader, slight religious talk, established rs, satoru cameo, spanking, dryhumping, lots of kissing, fingering, take a shot every time I say ‘ass’

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ sequel to LOWKEY, SHE’S SO SWEET

wc 2.3k

One peck. A second. Then another, and another. Geto can’t help the grin that forms under your barrage of affection, kisses peppered all over his jaw, cheeks, and nose. His hands rub over your plump waist, pull you closer into him as you giggle at the red tint starting to wash over his cheeks. You readjust, elbow sinking into his mattress, to sit up for a slightly better angle of attack, another low, mischievous laugh flowing between your teeth.

“Enjoying yourself?,” he asks, closes his eyes as you plant a kiss to his forehead.

“Someone definitely is.,” you tease and throw a leg over his hip, shuffling closer to destroy any spare inches between you two. “But yes, I suppose I do like kissing a pretty face.”

“You and me both.” And Geto presses soft lips to your own. He lingers for a second to stare into the hues of your eyes, narrowed beneath the upturn of your smile, before layering the corners of your mouth in a quick succession of kisses. A small wave of giggles bubbles up at his affections, ones that mix with quiet moans as Geto soon trails lower, down to your neck and collarbone.

“Suguru, that tickles.,” you pant into his hair, angling your neck for more. “Silly.”

He only hums in return, nibbles on an especially sensitive part of your neck and you feel him smile as you squirm next to him. Your whine of ‘Suguru!’ goes unanswered, only prompting him to grab you by the hips to straddle him. His hair splays out in a halo on satin pillows, giving Geto a heavenly look akin to a god—your god—alluring eyes never leaving your own.

“This is a pretty precarious position for you, isn’t it?,” you lower yourself to lay on his chest. Playful fingers thread through the dark locks of his hair.

“Hm? How so?” His eyes never leave yours, a game of chicken.

“Ohh, I don’t knoww.”

Suguru seems unbothered when you grind your pelvis against his; even through his sweats, you can feel the thick outline of his cock under your pussy, which is only growing wetter by the second. The splash of red on Suguru’s cheeks spreads further when you lean forward to plant another kiss on his chin, rubbing your body up and down his own. Your hands are eager to touch him, ducking underneath the hem of his sweats to rub at his v-line, teasing the edge of his boxers before you’re trailing them up and over his toned torso again. You feel your boyfriend tense as you give a cheeky jiggle of your ass, but before you can tease further, he lands a resounding smack! on your rear.

Jaw going slack, you sit up immediately, pressing yourself into his lap and mildly registering the faint hardness beneath you. “Naughty!”

“Behave.,” he says, eyeing the incoming pout on your face. Both brows shoot up as you give another small, tentative wiggle, and Geto raises a hand to hover over your behind. “You want another one?”

The fact that you don’t reply immediately, and instead turn to study the threatening hand above your ass pushes Geto to question you. “You gotta think about it, love? Don’t tell me this is turning you on.”

You finally snap around to look at him. “Wha–? It is no—!” Another smack forces a surprised moan from your lips, and Suguru rubs over the sore spot of your flesh. “You’re so mea–“ A squeeze, which prompts your yelp. “Suguru!”

He thinks this might be his hardest battle yet, fighting back the grin tugging at his lips. One hand kneads at the globe of your ass, the other moving to the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. Geto gives you another brief peck on the mouth, shortly taking in the sight of your plump lips before guiding them to his, eager tongue swiping over your bottom lip. You make a show of denying access for him and Geto gives a low grunt, a warning as he nips at you again.

This time, you part your mouth further to let him aside, allowing Geto to slip his tongue into the warm bay of your mouth, massaging it against your own. He feels so good, you feel so good, the way he can feel your stiff nipples poking at his bare chest through the fabric of your (his) shirt, your slow, leisurely ruts against the bulge in his briefs.

“Feel good, darling?” He breaks away to murmur teasingly against your lips. A low snort from him in reply to your absentminded ‘mhm’. “Yeah, I can tell, you’re soaking straight through to my dick.”

Your eyes snap open at that comment, brows raised and you pull away, but not too far. “You liar! I am not.”

“Oh?” His fingers dart below the hem of your shorts, brushing your bare pussy since apparently you’re not wearing any panties beneath. “Dirty girl. Let’s see then.”

You sit upright again to watch Geto’s hand disappear beneath your bottoms, hole involuntarily clenching as his fingers slip between your folds. Fingers run along the expanse of your pussy, coating his digits in wetness as he prods at your entrance before brushing a finger against your clit. He watches, waits, stalls and you decide to take matters into your own hands when you press down onto his idle finger.

“Needy.,” Geto chuckles. “Must be going too slow for you, doll. Couldn’t wait, hm?”

“No.,” and you brace hands atop his chest, descending until noses are brushing and you’re lost in a calm storm of purple. “Please touch me, Sugu, please. Stuff your fingers in your pussy, I want it.”

And he wants to edge you a little longer—you’re so cute with a river of tears down your cheeks and a wrenching grip on his shoulders, like you want to tear straight through him if he keeps toying with you any further. But Suguru’s dick also strains against his pants at your dirty words. You know just what to do and say to get him riled up, fluttering your lashes at him so sweetly, grazing your lips on his in such a tantalizing way as you’re begging him to fuck your pussy up—you might as well be the apple in the Garden.

You pull away just as Geto leans in for a kiss, but your little fun is short-lived as he gives a pinch to your clit, forcing a sharp whine out of you. His fingers are languid on the swollen nub, circling it and drawing sloppy, obscene noises from your soaking pussy. He engulfs your lips in a heated kiss, swallowing your moans and hand keeping pace with the grind of your hips. ‘Suguru…feels s’good’ you mewl into his mouth, pressing closer to him and nails leaving angry marks on his broad shoulders.

Geto relaxes into your hand, one you’ve moved to cup his cheek, and loves the gentle caress of your thumb on his skin. He places a kiss on your wrist, any skin his adoration may reach. His palm knocks against your aching bud, fishing out whines from the depths of your throat. Suguru chases your lips whenever you break away to whimper his name— it’s like a prayer in the clouds, an exposure of your desire.

The kiss is magnetizing, but you barely find it in you to catch your breath, blinks slow and heart pounding beneath your heaving chest. Geto’s tongue darts over his lips, fingers still circling your clit to draw pretty little sounds from you that make his head spin. ‘Oh…f–fuck..!’ Your head tilts back, still fucking into the palm of his hand. Frustration and arousal boil in the pit of your stomach, because you want more. Your boyfriend’s an expert with his fingers, but you wish he’d put them inside you already, get rid of this empty feeling in your cunt. Geto can clearly tell what you want by the adorable frown on your lips, but he’s given you enough mercy for today, and he wants to hear you say it.

“Suguru, ah!” He runs a hand up to tweak your nipple, prompting a loud moan from you. “D-don’t, G–od! Again, again!”

“Not so loud, love.,” he chuckles, but makes no move to stifle the lustful sounds, nor stop his assault on your pussy. “You want to wake them up?”

Them being his roommates, but honestly, you really can’t find it in you to care, not with the way he’s still massaging your clit. His fingers grow restless, gripping at your tit before running to sink into the fatty flesh of your ass again. The sentence goes straight through one ear and out the other, barely registering a single word besides ‘want’ and you can’t wait any longer, you beg for him.

“Please put your fingers inside me, Sugu, fuck, fuck—!” Your eyes roll back, lids clenching shut.

The heavy hand on your behind controls the rut of your hips. His dick aches beneath his sweats, the only relief being the grinding pressure of your ass against his drooling length that stains his pants. Geto slides a finger lower, replacing his index with his thumb, teasing over your slick entrance, coaxing a finger inside. Your movements slow, and your mouth falls open. A choked whine escapes you, and your walls squeeze around Geto’s intruding finger, inviting him inside with intent to keep him there. ‘Oh, Suguru!’, you moan out. He gives your ass another smack, squeezing your cheeks. Head growing foggy at the desperate thought of your walls milking his cock.

Geto doesn’t give you time to adjust, stuffing another finger in, and another until you’re stretched out on three, large digits, forcing their way amidst your wet, cushiony walls to rub at that spongy spot — the one that makes stars burst behind your eyes and flashes of white cross your vision. His bruising grip on your ass doesn’t let up unless it’s to layer another smack on the sore skin. The mixture of pain and pleasure has you clutching, spasming around him, whining Suguru’s name as your legs grow tired. You lean back to rub at his hardened dick, and he hisses as you jerk him off through his pants.

“Ah, fuck, good girl, just—, shit, just like that.,” he praises you as his own release approaches.

You squeeze his tip and, with loud gasps, you’re both cumming together. Cum gushes out around Suguru’s fingers, into his palm, his own seed tainting the fabric of his boxers and seeping straight through to his sweats. With stuttered breaths, you collapse on top of him, and Geto gives your ass one last squeeze before wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you tight. He drags his fingers out of you, panting as he eyes your orgasm dripping between his fingers, and he raises the hand in the air. Your eyes jolt open at the pain of a hard slap to your ass, sending ripples through the flesh, but you’re so tired all you can do is half-heartedly pound a fist on his chest.

“Asshole.” The insult comes out a breathy huff. “You play so much.”

He gives you a smile, one that could never allow you to be truly annoyed with him. “See, if I was really an asshole, I wouldn’t be about to get up and start a shower for us.”

“You’re still an asshole for leaving me here to be cold.,” you fire back.

“Even if it’s just a few minutes?”

“Minutes, years, it all feels the same when I’m suffering from lack of your presence.”

You let Suguru slip out of your grasp, with much hesitation, and he quietly goes out the door. “I’ll be back, ya sappy lil’ drama queen. Try not to suffer too much without me, yeah?”

He grins at the sassy poke out of your tongue, treading quietly down the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. It’s dark, save for a small glow of light beneath the door of the room nearest his, Satoru’s bedroom. As he passes, he spots his best friend on the bed, transfixed on a movie displayed on his laptop. He leaves him be, continuing down a few more feet until he’s in the bathroom, and adjusts the water before making his way back to you.

“You still alive in here?,” Geto whispers to the lump beneath his sheets.

“Barely.” Your voice is muffled, hand flailing out until you find Suguru’s warm one and interlace your fingers. “Carry me, please?”

“Of course, darling.”

Morning arrives and, surprisingly, Gojo is first to step foot outside his room. He’s usually second to wake up, third if Shoko hasn’t spent the night drinking. It’s a little lonely, being by himself with only the noise of milk and cereal being poured into a porcelain bowl. That is, until someone else arrives.

“Suguru!,” he rasps a greeting to the other man, who’s shirtless and sporting scratch marks all over his arms and back. “How’d ya sleep?”

“Like a rock.” Or maybe a pebble, Geto had a tendency to awake once or twice in the night. But after the…activities you and him had gotten up to last night, he slept a little better in your arms.

“Must have been nice.” Gojo muffles out a sentence through bites of cereal. “I barely got any sleep, you and your company were making so much noise.” Suguru narrows his eyes, leaning against the table as Gojo continues. “Where is she anyway, don’t tell me your one night stand left before you even woke up?”

Before Suguru can respond, an insult on the tip of his tongue, there’s a small shuffling that catches his ear. As it grows louder, Gojo notices as well, and both men’s eyes widen when you come stumbling into view, using a fist to rub sleep from your eyes.

Suguru’s shirt still hangs loose on your frame. “Are you an asshole in your dreams, too? Just 24/7, Gojo?”

He watches, mouth agape, as you scoot over to Suguru, teetering against his shoulder and letting out a big yawn. Geto stabilizes you with an arm around your waist, embracing you in a side hug and resting a chin on the crown of your head. Suguru looks back to Gojo, whose spoonful of cereal hovers over the bowl.

“Nope. She’s right here.”

tagz: @anthoosies @apatauaia @b-b-b-my-b-f-f @getouolgy @sataraxia @leilalilox @babytoshiii @sugu-love @akumicchi @sugojosgf @k-cris @soraya-daydreams @triviahct @reiluvr @venzlenes @sttoru @bubblez-blop @luvvmae @ciggyy @starlightanyaaa @staryukis

[gorgeys]

Come to get your fix? - (Margot Robbie x Reader)

At an afterparty, you see Margot for the first time in a long time…

Margot Robbie x femsinger!reader

Warnings: slight age gap (Margot is 30ish, reader is 25ish), mentions of sex, just sexy vibes

A/N: this got a lot longer than it was supposed to be cuz I kinda got carried away with the beginning and the backstory but I hope you enjoy!

2.6k words

There were seven different Met Gala after parties, all of which you had been invited to, but of course you chose the only one that she would be attending.

Well, you really had no other choice.  You had to go to Dua Lipa’s party at Virgo on the Lower East Side.  You and Dua were close friends and all the biggest celebrities were going to be there.

And you were excited for the most part.  It was one of the few nights where you got to hang out with your most famous friends as you danced and drank the night away.

When you arrived, ditching your Chanel gown for a sheer, golden chain dress that resembled royalty, you dove right into the many greetings you’d have to make throughout the night.  Of course you got many congratulations on your new album which had easily risen to the top of the charts with several hit singles.  And, since you had released new tour dates only last night, several celebrities were already expressing their excitement over attending your LA shows.  You thanked them like always, being sure to compliment Zendaya on her new movie and thanking Rihanna for sending you a new package of Fenty Beauty products.

Only after at least an hour did you even find the bar.  You ordered your go-to cocktail and paid for whatever your team wanted to drink, exhaling a long sigh.  Your voice had already gotten scratchy and hoarse from the day’s events plus the long press tour you had endured the past few weeks.  You craved a moment to relax.

But not even a few seconds later did Jack Harlow appear behind you to question why you left him on read for the past three days.  Internally rolling your eyes, you mumbled a vague response while your eyes scanned the room for a distraction.  You only half listened to him as he tried to get in your pants once more, but you fully stopped paying attention when you finally found her.

There she was, sitting in a booth beside Cara Delevigne across the room.  You could tell she was looking for a way out of the situation from the way her shoulders were angled away from Cara and her nails tapped anxiously on the table.

You shamelessly stared, watching her eyes retreat from Cara’s face every once in a while to venture out into the crowd.  Her legs were crossed and she sat as straight as a pin like she always had.  You remembered how her perfect posture alone always made you feel small.  She carelessly flicked her blonde hair back away from her face, smiling at whatever part of the long, winded story Cara was on.

You told yourself so many times that you had moved on. It was a repetitive thought that pounded into your brain each night when you were partying in cities all over the world.  And sometimes it felt like you really did move on. You would naturally send a flirty wink to the cute girl at the bar or grind on the hot guy on the dance floor, enjoying the fruitful chase.

But each morning, when you woke up in an expensive hotel room beside a stranger, you always wished she was laying beside you instead.  It felt hopeless at times when you were stalking her Instagram or scrolling through your camera roll at the many, many pictures of you and her.

You only truly believed you had moved on when you met your most recent girlfriend.  She was finally the breath of fresh air you were looking for.  The thoughts of Margot soon felt far and few in between as a new woman consumed your everyday life.  She was beautiful and sweet and loving and everything you needed.  It was rare for one of your partners to even last more than a couple weeks since you had a reputation of being quite the maneater, but you were glad it did.  She was everything.

Until you were gaping at Margot from across the club.  You could barely remember your girlfriend’s name when blue eyes finally met yours.  They were piercing, like you remembered, and they seemed to look right through you, even from the other side of the room.  Her smile melted as she realized who she was looking at.

You took your eyes off of her for a moment as you accepted your drink from the bartender.  You thanked him and glanced back.  To your satisfaction, she couldn’t take her eyes off of you.  You lifted the glass to your lips and took a teasingly slow slip without breaking eye contact. You watched her take a deep breath, slightly pursing her lips, as she silently contemplated how to handle you.  Oh, how you loved to be handled by her.

Her attention was stolen for a moment as Cara excused herself from the table.  Margot sent her a forced smile and a slight wave before she was lost in the crowd.

You had been dreading this moment for weeks, the inevitable moment when you’d meet her sculpted face that always begged you to come closer.  But now that it was happening, it almost felt euphoric.

“Get lost, Jack,” you said, shoving his shoulder out of your way. He groaned but didn’t protest.  You had set your path of destruction and now there was no stopping you.

You focused on making long, smooth strides in your tall heels and swaying your hips a bit more than usual as her eyes wandered your incoming figure.  Her face was stoic but her gaze was so familiar.  It always made you want to impress her, to be extra good for her.  To be wanted by her was a better feeling than any number one album or one-night lover.  You were glad your dress didn’t leave much for the imagination.

And then, after cutting through the dance floor, you were there, placing your hand upon the table as you slid into the seat beside her.  You pressed your thigh into hers, the only thing between them being the golden chains of your dress.  The rounded booth kept the two of you secluded from the other happenings of the club.

Although you were beside her, you had each turned your heads to match one another, face to face.  Her eyes had never left you and now you could feel her breath against the sensitive skin of your upper lip.

“Hi,” she said.  You were envious of how confident she sounded with your face inches from hers.  Your only relief was the faint quirk of her lips.  You couldn’t tell if it was well-intentioned or mischievous.

“Hi,” you whispered breathlessly, leaving your lips slightly open.  She seemed to take the bait as her eyes devoured your glossy, inviting lips.

“Come to get your fix?” she teased, sliding her tongue across her top lip.  It was something she always used to say to you when you sneaked into her trailer or violently tugged her into the bathroom.

It reminded you of the times when her soft fingers molded your body into whatever piece of pottery she wanted you to be.  The lick of her lips reminded you of all the times her tongue rewarded you afterward.

You clicked your own tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Something like that,” you mumbled, almost annoyed by all the memories she awakened.

“I was surprised,” she began, her nails skimming the chains along your hip, making a high-pitched noise.  You tried not to show how the closeness of her fingers made you feel.  “I didn’t see you with anyone.”

She was obviously referring to the fact that you hadn’t brought a date to the gala.  Of course, knowing your long history, she had expected you to have someone young and new by your side.  After all, TMZ had claimed you were dating four different people in the last two weeks.

You weren’t surprised by her prying.  She always cut right to the chase whenever she was with you.  But you were a little taken aback that she had asked it so outright considering how things had ended between you.

“Well, I was surprised I didn’t see you with anyone.”  You couldn’t help the accusatory attitude that dripped from your voice.

“Hmm,” she hummed with a small smile as if she was expecting that response.  She peered down at her hand as it climbed the chains to sit comfortably atop your thigh.  

It was her “date” that had ruined your “relationship” in the first place.  By “date,” I mean husband and by “relationship,” I mean affair.

It was your first acting gig and in a blockbuster movie at that.  Before you had even introduced yourself, you locked eyes with her across the table at the first script reading and you knew you were hers.

But when she began shooting seductive glances from across the set, you assumed your eyes were playing tricks on you.  When she began grabbing onto you anytime you were in arms reach, you assumed she was just one of those touchy people.  And even that one time when she asked you to “be a good girl” and grab her a water, you just assumed it was a thing she said, even if it made your chest feel tight and your thighs squeeze together.

Because, after all, she was an older, straight, married woman.  Or at least that’s what you thought.

It wasn’t until she got you alone in her trailer, pushed you onto the couch, and attacked you with kisses that she made it clear.  From that moment on, you were her secret and she had to be yours. It wasn’t ideal, but it was still as perfect as could be.  Until it wasn’t.

Before she had even made an advance on you, you knew you were bound to catch feelings.  But you weren’t expecting it to hit you like a load of bricks.  Nevertheless, you knew you were just some affair to her, some sex toy for her to play with, so it was easy to keep quiet and occasionally dream of what could be.

The real kicker was when, a couple days before shooting wrapped, she admitted she had fallen for you.  Your whole world lit up and came crashing down on you simultaneously.   

Hearing those words felt like hearing the song of the ice cream truck on a hot summer day: pure relief. You had loved her unwaveringly.

But what trumped that was the undeniable realization that you were only second to her.  Second to her husband and the life she had created with him.  She could never love you the way you loved her.

So, when promo for the movie was coming to an end, you had to give her the ultimatum. She had put off the decision for as long as possible.  That was until you confronted her in her hotel room in a wreck of tears and rage.

You weren’t surprised, but disappointed when you weren’t her choice.  She had begged you to stay, to spend one more night with her, but you left in a disheveled hurry, refusing to let her see the effect she had on you.

Sometimes, when you lie awake at night, you wish she had never told you she loved you.  Then maybe it would have been easier to walk away and forget about her.  It would have been easier to accept that she was just using you for a couple good fucks.  But here you were, sitting beside her, rehashing your inevitable heartbreak because she was always so irresistible and she loved you

She looked back up at you, pushing her face even closer to yours.  Her smile grew when she saw your lips tightly pressed together and your eyebrows furrowed.  You were always so bad at hiding your frustration from her.

“I left him,” she said, squeezing your thigh.  You could see the excitement within her, begging for a release.

Meanwhile, you felt dizzy.

“Wh-What do you mean you left him?”

“I mean that I left him,” she repeated, smiling wider at your shocked expression.  You were sure you looked so stupid, almost like a dead bug with your eyes wide and your jaw hanging open.  “Just waiting to finalize the papers.”

“Oh my god,” was all you could manage.  Your hand came up to your mouth, covering the gaping hole.  “Oh my god.”

It was the words you had always wanted to hear but at the most unexpected time.  Her hypnotizing smile made your head spin as the colors of the club swirled together in your peripheral.

“I just-I don’t understand.  Why…now?”

She shot you a slightly confused look, as if the answer was obvious, but a lot of time had passed and you finally needed her to be clear.

She used her free hand to remove your hand from over your mouth and drop it into your lap.  Then she firmly grasped your chin, ensuring your eyes never left her candid ones.  Her touch shot warmth up your cheeks and down your neck, just the shock you needed to wake you from your daze.

“Because I know I want you.  And I tried being without you but I just…I can’t,” she confessed, the words scrambling out of her throat as if they had been trying to for days.

Your heart swelled in your chest at her pure sincerity.  Instinctively, you wanted to jump into her arms, to let her have you in every way.  But that little bit of insecurity still creeped up your spine.  The insecurity she had created when she chose him all those months ago.

“Are-Are you sure?”

She only laughed.  Honey may as well have been dripping from her lips as the sound was so sweet.  Every sound that left her lips was angelic.

“I’ve been thinking about this every day since you left.  I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

Her hand left your thigh to tuck a few pieces of your loose hair behind your ear, her hand lingering on the side of your neck.  You felt like you were on fire and she reveled in the way the heat flooded your irises.

But then you felt like you were forgetting something, something important.

“I have a girlfriend, Mar,” you suddenly said, your fingers wrapping lightly around the forearm of the arm that held your chin.

Margot certainly wasn’t expecting that confession this late in the conversation.  But your relationship couldn’t have been too serious if your new girlfriend wasn’t there, hanging off your arm.  She proceeded without caution.

“Well, I don’t see her anywhere,” she said, tilting your head downward with the pull of her hand, forcing you to stare up at her through hooded eyes.  She always adored when you looked at her from that angle, especially when she was knuckle deep inside of you.

You don’t even really know why you said it.  You knew, girlfriend or not, you would always choose Margot.  And she knew that.

“So, you want me or not, baby?”  She pursed her lips in a fake pout, so close to yours.

You couldn’t control yourself and you heard yourself make a faint noise of unbridled temptation.  She seemed quite satisfied by that as her thumb rubbed small circles into your chin, the nail grazing your lip every once in a while.

You both already knew the answer.

“Yes, fuck, I want you,” you said, your voice the most confident it had been all night but still the most desperate.

A feeling of pure bliss consumed your body.  Just hearing yourself say it made a smile creep onto your lips.

Margot quickly copied you.  She raised your chin to meet hers and wasted no more time.  Finally, finally, she kissed you.  She didn’t care who was watching as she firmly held your face, guiding you in every which way.

She was the only person in your universe and you were the only person in hers.

lmk if you guys want more Margot or any of her characters!! I will def write for Barbie, Harley, and even Naomi.  I will prob write something for Barbie soon so stay tuned!

And if you have a request I haven’t responded to, I’m really sorry it’s taken a long time but I am working on it!

[strangerstilinski]

hiii my dear <333

would love if you could combine [heal] and [kiss] with steve 🫶

love u n have the bestest day

[HEAL] sender ends up in the receiver's lap trying to tend to their wounds to the best of their abilities. [KISS] the sender lowers themselves into the receiver's lap in order to kiss them properly.

Steve is bleeding. Again.

And why is it that Steve always seems to be fucking bleeding? If it's not a fistfight, it's inter-dimensional monsters. And if it's not monsters, it's foreign governments who hold no qualms against beating and torturing minimum-wage mall employees in the hopes that it might yield answers.

This isn't like any of those times. You know that. And yet, watching the slow trail of blood ooze from the gash at Steve's hairline, crimson dripping slow down his temple and smearing into his brow — It makes your stomach turn. Makes your knees wobble just slightly. The floor suddenly feeling decidedly unsteady beneath your feet.

You'd asked him to find a casserole dish and he'd practically crawled his way inside one of the lower kitchen cabinets in his search. Wide shoulders crowded into the space, his narrow waist on display as he reached even farther and prompted his shirt to ride up. Your eyes had been glued to the dimples at the base of his spine, objectifying gaze too stuck on the way his jeans pulled on his backside and thighs, the way the elastic waistband of his briefs cut into the softness of his hips-

He'd yelled triumphantly as he re-emerged, and you'd been too distracted to warn him to watch his head when he turned a bit too early and bashed against the edge of the opening with a resounding thunk.

You couldn't care less about cooking dinner, now. You're entirely too consumed with worry at the sight of the blood pouring from Steve's head. And, alright, pouring might be a bit dramatic. But your boyfriend is bleeding, and it's slightly your fault.

You push him from the kitchen and he drops dutifully into a chair when you give his shoulder a pointed shove. Both of your hands find their way to his face, warmth bleeding into your palms as you try to angle his head into the light a bit.

He only winces a little when you push his hair up out of the way so you can see where his skin is split. Your fingers tighten around his jaw, biting into his cheek as you turn his head this way and that in an attempt to get a better look. A frown pulls at your lips as you note the swelling that's already building into a sizable lump, and no sooner have your lips quirked downward when Steve's hands find the backs of your thighs.

"Hey, pretty sure I'm the one who's supposed to be pouting, pouty." His hands tighten, dragging you forward until you're standing slotted between his legs.

Warm, honeyed brown eyes peer up at you, his hands rubbing up and down the backs of your thighs in a comforting motion. The way he looks after you, even now, when he's the one who's injured — It sends your heart thrumming wildly.

You snatch some paper towel from the tabletop and dab at his head lightly, frown sinking further when blood immediately wells back up and begins to follow that same path down his forehead and into his eyebrow.

"It seems like it's bleeding a lot," You tell him, blotting at the growing egg on his head again, "I don't think it should be bleeding this much. Should it be bleeding this much?"

"It's a head wound, they bleed a lot." He shrugs, like it's no big deal.

You repeat his words back, mockingly, putting a little more pressure on the towel to his head. And then, "How much is 'a lot'?"

To your frustration, Steve just shrugs again, "I dunno, should stop in the next few minutes, I guess. If it does, we're good. If not, I guess I'm probably a goner-"

The pressure you're applying to the towel increases enough to have Steve wincing again, but you refuse to feel bad.

"That isn't funny." Your eyes drift as Steve's lower lip juts out, soft and plush and not even remotely portraying genuine apology. "Now who's pouting?" You grumble quietly.

"The guy who just came within an inch of braining himself to find your casserole dish, actually." Steve returns your snark all-too easily, "You know what'd really help, though?"

Your eyes narrow just slightly at the sweet edge to his voice, at the way his palms press with a little more intent into the backs of your legs. He's still looking up at you, lips quirked up now into that flirty grin of his, chin jutting out like he's expecting you to just bend down to kiss him already.

"What?" You ask, infuriatingly breathless in the wake of his touch, the gentle rumble of his voice.

"C'mere."

He pulls at your thighs again and you realize he's trying to get you to sit down. You smile softly, stepping back from between his legs and settling into place in his lap. Your thighs frame his hips, towel still pressed firmly to his head all the while.

"Better?" You ask, nosing at the space between his brows before placing a fleeting peck to his forehead.

Steve hums, "No, no, not quite. Think you could spare another kiss?"

"Oh, I suppose," You sigh woefully, like it's a big ask, though you both know it isn't. Your lips find the bridge of his nose, "Like this?"

Steve hums again, "Not quite. Little lower, honey."

You lean back just a bit to look at him, the way his eyes have clouded over with something like adoration. It still makes your head spin, that he looks at you like that-

Your thumb strokes his cheek, lips finding the tip of his nose and just staying there for a moment — waiting.

"Lower." He orders softly, his nose nudging up against you as he tips his chin up toward you.

Your lips brush his cupids bow, faint stubble scratching softly when you press the faintest kiss to his mouth. "Here?" You whisper against his lips, breath mingling warmly with his own, "Does this help?"

He knocks the bloodied paper towel from your hands and ignores your protests as he drags you back down for another kiss, this one deeper.

You're breathless when you pull back again, your eyes glued to the shine of spit on Steve's lips before your gaze flicks up to the drying blood at his hairline, the cut clotted and no longer bleeding.

"Hey, you stopped bleeding." You tell him, relieved.

"Yeah, that's great-" He says blankly, already sliding his hand to the nape of your neck to pull you back in, "Now, c'mere-"

[slashersidewhore]

Slashers! HC S/O nearly killed by a victim

Slashers!Sinclair brothers x gn!reader

Includes Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair

Requested? Yes

Warnings: max angst, lots of self deprecating thoughts from the slashers, blood, mentions of gore, lots of violence, happy ending (you survive!)

Bo Sinclair

You weren’t supposed to be at the house, Bo was sure you were out getting groceries, you told him you were

You placed the several brown bags you could carry from the pickup onto the kitchen counter, used to the silence that filled the dimly lit home

Turning to make your way back outside, you froze in your spot when merely a few yards away stood a man, face twisted in agony, blood covering the lower portion of his body, it looked like he’d been stabbed by Vincent’s sheers, so why was he upstairs?

“You’re one of them”

The man seemed to only grow in size from the sheer mass of his clear anger, chest puffing to reveal a stutter in his breath, as if he was using borrowed time

You weren’t sure if saying anything would help, you were bringing in groceries, of course you were one of them, there was no way to free yourself from this situation

Glancing over at the knife block, wide eyes switched back to the man who had seen the subtle movement, brows furrowing, and then he charged

“They killed my girlfriend!”

The stranger snarled as he gained on you, hands reaching out to grab your arm, your neck, whenever he could reach in his rage fueled attack

Slipping on your heel to get to the knives, the recently mopped floor proved to be a disadvantage, only giving the man a better angle to grab the collar of the back of your shirt, pulling it back, before slamming you into one of the counters

The impact against your stomach wasn’t pleasant, you could feel the bruise already forming as you were dragged back, grabbing anything you could as pitiful noises left your lips

Throwing the salt and pepper shakers, a clean plate, anything at him you could get your hands on, nothing seemed to faze him as you threw you against the adjacent cabinets

Forehead slamming into the sharp edge of wood, red filled your already blurring vision, your weak yelp for anyone nearby that could help fell deaf on the empty corridors of the house, where the hell were the guys?

“You sick bitch, you’re all sick”

The man spat in your face, spit hitting your cheek as he did so, then he was once again lifting you from where he’d tossed you like a rag doll, this time letting your body fall rather limply to the tiled floor

“You’ll get what’s coming to you, if it’s the last thing I do”

You could hear the slight motion of the man reaching over your body, plucking a knife from the block a few feet away and kneeling over your aching body

His legs were at either side of your hips, arms raised high as he didn’t think twice before lowering the weapon

A shout echoed from the near distance, heavy footsteps on the wooden floor, in a last ditch effort with all the remaining strength to could muster, you lifted a knee to the mans crotch, resulting in a deep howl of pain, and a burning sensation as the knife landed deep in your shoulder

Then the man was off of you, ripped from your body by someone far stronger, the shouting picked up again, the enraged, bellowing noises bouncing off the walls as you figured the escaped victim was being rightfully dealt with

Right as the man’s shadow was gone, another more broad figure appeared over you, this time at the side of your injured body.

“Oh baby, oh fuck,” It was Bo’s voice, his tones drawl making your heart flutter, or was that the stab wound? It felt as if the room was spinning in its axis, turned upside down and steeping your body in darkness, “Shit, I thought ya were outta the house.”

Vincent was hovering in the distance, gauging the wound from the distance he stood before rushing off the gather the proper items to best help you. Bo was at a loss, wanting to lean down while also warning himself that his touch would only cause more pain. Why were you home? Why didn’t he check the house first? Why did he just assume you would be out for hours? This was his fault, he left you vulnerable and alone, in a place he knew could bs unsafe when they brought, “guests”, home. Your weak whine of his name drove his stomach to lurch forward, bile trying to climb him throat, body hot to the touch with panic and his eyes swam with guilt.

“I’ve got ya now, nothin’ll hurt ya anymore,” Bo fell on his ass to get closer to you, lifting your upper body carefully before laying it steadily in his lap. Your pained wince at being moved to any extent shot right through the man’s heart, his body folding over yours slightly, almost as if trying to protect what was left of you from the outside world. Your delicate cries as blood seeped through your clothes only drew the man further from rationally, mind racing at what he would do to the dead body mere feet away when he was done tending to you, “Vincent! Get yur ass in here!”

“I’m here baby, don’t ya worry, I’ve got ya.”

Vincent Sinclair

You were never involved with the victims, as much as Vincent trusted you, he didn’t trust any stranger within a mile of Ambrose, the thought of someone full of fear or anger anywhere in your vicinity made his skin crawl beneath his usual wool sweaters

Luckily for the town over, there weren’t three deranged brothers causing havoc, in fact it was odd being in a populated area where no one even knew of Ambrose’s happenings, or the men beneath it

So when a van full of curious, college aged boys came strolling through the, “abandoned”, streets, you had made the choice to go out for the day, visit that nearby town where Vincent knew you would be safe for the most part

Which lead to the present, where you were calmly walking back to Ambrose along the two lane, quiet, wooded backroad, wicker basket in hand with various items you deemed interesting enough to take back

Although the snap of a branch caught your ear, a man no older than you stumbling along the path, if the splatters of blood along his body weren’t an indicator of where he’d left, the thick globs of wax painting his left arm did

“Miss? Fuck, help me!”

The man called to you, clearly desperate in his current predicament, there wasn’t much you could do, you didn’t have a cellphone, you’d already been walking for a half mile, what could you possibly be able to help him with?

“There’s these crazy guys that tried to kill me! We need to get away from here!”

Before you could even summon a response, the staggering stranger that had since gotten closer paused, face pursing, lips tight as a look of realization crossed his face

“Your face, there were drawings of your face in that basement”

“I don’t know what you mean, here, let’s-“

You didn’t get much of a sentence out before the man was pushing you to the ground, intentions clear as he kneeled above you, planting your lower body to the gravel side of the road before punching aimlessly at your face

“Please-“

“You’re with those sick bastards aren’t you? You must be fucked in the head too, after all the bodies I saw!”

The punches kept landing, your nose surely broken by the onslaught, blood draining down your jaw, by your ears, into your mouth

The heavy smell of iron palette-able as another swift hit was served to your mouth, bottom lip busting open with thick, red spilling out

The man just kept screaming in your face, spit flying as he did so, it was as if his rage fueled attack would never cease, maybe he hadn’t gotten hurt all that much and his adrenaline was through the roof

Either way it was as if the beating was only getting worse as the minutes ticked by, you felt lucky he didn’t have an actual weapon on his person

As if some kind of saving grace had heard you, the rumbling of what sounded like a familiar old pickup roared in the distance, getting louder by the second

Right as the shriek of tires echoed across the otherwise silent road, your tired eyelids fluttered shut, allowing the all consuming haze to take its place in your body

Some time later

“How the hell should I know when she’s gon’ wake up?” That voice was familiar, the low timbre of an accent you knew all too well. It was buzzing through your head, and although you were thankful to even be here to listen to it, there was one thing you wished was present as well.

“Hey, her eyes are opening,” And that’s when you heard the shuffling, heavy boots on a concrete floor, when Bo’s agitated voice once again striking your growing headache, “alright, alright! I’m goin’.”

An all too warm, fuzzy feeling filled your chest when Vincent’s head popped into view, hair tied back loosely with little bits of wax here and there. Although lumbering over you, his movements were cautious, slow and steady as you could make out his eyes scanning your form meticulously. It felt as though you were one of his pieces of artwork, carefully watched over to make sure you wouldn’t melt.

“Vince, are you okay?” Your whisper of a question caused the man’s head to drop into the crook of your neck, whether overwhelmed or still worried it just seemed he needed a moment to process all that had happened. It was only minutes ago you were still out cold, laying on one of his work tables as Bo stood with a disapproving look. Art supplies strewn, chairs overturned, even the most delicate wax sculptures he’d done were crumbled on the floor. The man hadn’t been able to contain the absolute ice that ran through his veins upon seeing Lester carrying your lifeless form into the house, especially considering he didn’t even know if you were still alive.

Large, rough hands shaking like a kitten, the man leaned back to run his fingers over the side of your injured face, the touch gentle, barely there. The soft tilt of his head told you he was fine, seemingly still stressing about your current state. As you became more aware of your surroundings, you realized one of Vincent’s wood sweaters covered a portion of your upper body, like a makeshift blanket. Fingers weakly knocking into his elbow, the masked man took notice and immediately intertwined them with his, palm warm against yours. His free hand reached up to caress your jaw, without words but as if to say,

‘You’re safe now.’

Lester Sinclair

Lester wasn’t ever particularly involved in the murders, in fact he felt his best work was cleaning up the eventual aftermath

That being said, you were usually by his side at all hours, both day and night, keeping him and Jonsey company

“Be right back darlin’”

Lester flashed a toothy grin in your direction, sitting on the hood of the trunk while he hoisted a large, dead dead over his shoulder

This had been majority of the day so far, you enjoying the shady sun while he hauled carcasses of roadkill over to the designated dump sight

“I’ll stay right here!”

You chuckle, watching the red dusting over his ears fade as he continued to walk further down the slope

Glancing down to where Jonsey was laying, you did a double take when the little lady had somewhere vanished, head whipping side to side, yes she was an independent dog but that doesn’t mean you didn’t worry sometimes

Barking in the distance cut through your immediate panic, somewhere off to the left in the densely wooded forest

“Jonsey?”

You called as you hopped off the cars hood, jogging towards the sounds origin as it only continued

It didn’t sound like her normal bark though, it was vicious, angry, maybe she’d run into a squirrel or other wild animal of some kind that had gotten her all up in action

“There you are girl!”

You exclaimed as your turn around the tree revealed the dog, facing away from you, as your eyes left the furry creature it landed on a man not much older than you, standing before you and Jonsey with a knife in hand

“Sorry about my dog, she can be overly cautious”

You tried to reason, deflecting from the chance he may know more than you hoped, and unfortunately his fist only clenched further around the blades handle, face pulled in a snarl

“Yeah, the same dog I saw in that auto shop, with that guy who killed my girlfriend”

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re here to do-“

Before you could even finish your statement he was already on you, knocking you back with a heavy hand before slashing towards your stomach

Thankfully you were able to dodge the first swing, although he wasn’t stopping anytime soon, in fact your fear only seemed to spur him on as he swung again, and again

Unfortunately he had backed you into a tree, another aim at your body immediately ripping through your (Lester’s) shirt, blood leaking from ripped skin, another across your forehead, red spilling into your waterline as your thunderous scream of Lester’s name left your quivering lips

“I didn’t kill your girlfriend”

“But you’re chummy with the bastard that did”

His final strike ended with him aiming down and up, the smooth surface of the knife gliding into your skin like butter, the sob it ripped from you was pitiful, as was the way you fell to your knees

Then a gunshot rang out

“Darlin’?” There stood Lester, rusty, old shotgun in hand that was still aimed at the now fallen body, lowering it too glance over at you in panic. His rushed footfall crunched leaves, his quick footing hit a root and nearly tripping him if his objective wasn’t so focused on. Dropping to your level, the man held his hands to where you were gripping your wrist.

“Show me, how bad is it?” The concern and fear tainting his voice was almost painful to hear, pulling your palms away to reveal a river of crimson. Hissing as he lifted the edge of the shirt you had stolen from him this morning, to reveal a bloody but shallow wound. It looked as if the guy had missed, only slicing at your side, not your gut as he most likely planned.

“Hurts,” you mumble as your body begins to try and lose consciousness, the adrenaline now leaving your system. Lester caught on, leaning you into him before lifting you against his slim body, careful to not press into any of your injuries, “Lester”.

“I know honey, I’ll get ya all patched up, don’t ya worry.” The man shouldered your weight, holding a tough facade despite the way his heart was slowly crumbling inside his chest cavity. If he made it one second later, you could’ve been gone forever. The thought felt like ice water poured over his head, sinking into his veins. Next time he would have to watch over you better, keep you safer. No, there wouldn’t be a next time, he would make sure no one could even attempt to get near you.

“Ain’t ever gonna let that happen again”

If y’all would like to see other parts of this either others slashers list their names in the comments or in my inbox!

As always requests are always open!

[hw4-l1z]

Birthday sex, breeding kink and Belly bulge with princess Mingi? 🫣 Since it's his birthday tomorrow

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I was supposed to release this ON his birthday but I totally forgot about it😭

Sub!mingi x Dom!m!reader

Cw: breeding kink// belly bulge// mingi gets called princess (cause he is one)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You and mingi had been together for basically the whole day for his birthday, you wanted to give him an extra special day before your plans before the end of the night. You had given him the princess treatment the whole day, letting him sit on your lap instead of the hard uncomfortable seats, feeding his food to him, giving him lots of head pats and of course lots of little kisses every so often.

The treatment he had been given the whole day by you completely conflicted against how you currently have him bent into the mating press, pounding your cock into him so deep and at such a rough pace. His eyes are squeezed shut as moans are spilling out his mouth at the overwhelming amount of pleasure.

Your grunting and growing almost animalistically as your cum from your previous orgasm is dripping out from him as you fuck him. Your body after a while begins to get a little sore from this position so you lower yourself down and back into missionary. Mingi's legs hooking around you and pulling you close to him as you push into him deep. His hole is so wet a sloppy from how long you've been fucking him for, making it and easier slide for you. You hold onto his hands and pin them on either side of his head, grinding your hips slowly into him and watching as the bulge in his tummy from your cock shows through earning a groan from you.

"Fuck princess, you looks so good with my cock bulging in your stomach" you moan as you speed up your thrusts again. Your cock is beginning to feel a little sensitive but you ignore it, only wanting to make your princess feel so good. His eyes are watery as he looks down at his stomach, biting his lip at the sight of your cock so prominent in his gut. His legs move up as your bend down to find a better angle to speed up your thrusts.

"Gonna cum in you again, gonna breed my princess, get him nice and full yeah? Give him his favourite birthday present for today" you groan as your hips slam into his. His back arches up into you as he tries to grind his cock onto your stomach since his hands are restraint by yours.

"You want me to breed you baby? Fill you to the fucking brim with my cum hmm?" You growl in his ear. He begins to not his head frantically, begging you to fill him up with your seed. His walls squeeze around you as his orgasm begins to build up, the knot in his stomach tightening as his breath picks up. Your hips snapping into him as your cock twitches and jumps inside him, ready to fill him up.

About a minute later you finally relese into him with a shaky moan, mingi following closely with a loud whine, his fingers squeezing your hand. His hips jerk up onto your stomach as he shoots his load over both of you. His legs shaking as his hips twitch, trying to calm down from his climax. Once you both calm down you slightly pull away from his body, looking him in the eyes.

"Happy birthday princess"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[reallybigproblem]

pairing: mark lee x afab!reader

warnings: established relationship, massage, heavy petting, grinding, nipple play, slight roleplay

wc: 0.7k

mdni banner by @cafekitsune

You started out with good intentions, honest!

When your boyfriend’s constantly working nonstop it’s normal to think of things to do to keep him going.

Encouraging little notes around the house, cute desserts, a full body massage.

Nice, normal things.

Ok, maybe you just want an excuse to feel him up but it’s not like Mark isn’t getting anything out of the deal.

He gets to relieve the tension that’s been building up in his muscles for weeks and you get to feel those muscles all oiled up under your fingertips.

This is just supposed to be a nice, normal massage.

But it’s Mark, he’s very vocal with his appreciation. Letting out a saccharine moan when you hands reach just the right spot on his defined back.

Once you’re satisfied with that area you pat his lower thigh, prompting him to roll over.

Thighs next, starting with the one closest to you near the edge of your bed. The extra baby oil probably isn’t necessary but you add it anyway before getting to work.

Rubbing upward with both hands, it’s almost like kneading a very muscular dough. Maybe your knuckles brush against Mark’s crotch a few times, but that’s not your fault, call it an occupational hazard.

“Your hands are getting a little low there, don’t you think?” Your boyfriend plays with you.

“Want me to stop?” Maybe when your hand makes contact this time it’s a little bit on purpose, palming him fully through his basketball shorts.

“No.” He grunts. “Keep going.”

So you do just that, straddling Mark slowly to get the best angle to do his chest of course. Very professional.

The leftover bits of oil drip down from your fingertips to those chiselled abs of his. Your hands follow suit, feeling from his toned stomach up to his chest.

And maybe you move your lower half as well. It’s only fair to help Mark release the tension down there, since he’s getting harder by the second.

Trying his best to not let another moan slip, he grits his teeth.

“If you keep on moving like that I’m gonna cum.”

“Good.” You bring your face down to his, lips almost touching before you decide to go for the sweet spot between his jaw and neck instead.

Your kisses get lower, all the way down his neck, through his pecs. Maybe your lips and a little bit of tongue brush past his nipples a few times, but from the way he twitches against your clothed pussy, he clearly likes it.

“Hope you don’t do this for all your customers.” He jokes.

“Nope, just you.” Sealing your promise with another kiss on Mark’s chest.

You lift away from him to remove your tank top, thankful to not be wearing anything underneath. Making sure to not take too much weight off your boyfriend, you grab the oil to pour maybe a bit too much on your chest.

“Fuck.” Mark’s eyes are trained on you as the liquid flows through the valley between your breasts. Lacing your fingers through his, you bring his hands up and rub them around the area, to make sure the oil’s been properly applied of course.

Pushing his hands back down on the bed you follow shortly after, looking him deep in the eyes as you move your chest up from his to drag down near his belly button.

“New technique I just thought of.” You whisper when close to his face after repeating the action a few times.

“You’re so creative.” He pants before moving up to kiss you properly, finally getting the chance to taste your lips.

Your legs are starting to feel more like jelly between the movement of his mouth and the way Mark ruts against you. He takes full advantage, wrapping an arm around your waist to flip you over so he can hover above.

“Thanks for the service.” Hooking both index fingers around your shorts and panties, he pulls them lower whilst placing small pecks on the now exposed skin. “I think it’s time you got your tip.”

“Just the tip?” You smirk, taking in the view.

Of course you were going to get a lot more than that, cause now it’s Mark’s turn to feel you inside and out.

[thelustdevil]

!!!Minors DNI • EXPLICIT content!!!

It was supposed to be just a chill night with Izuku…

The two of you made dinner together earlier that night and picked out a movie for afterwards. It was your normal Saturday night plan if he had the night off. Dinner had just been cleared away and Izuku was debating where to play the movie. The living room or in his room.

“What do you think?” He turns to you, hand on his chin. “The room makes more sense to me…”

“Oh? Is it that kind of night?” You smirk at him and laugh as the blush grows on his face. He begins to stammer a reply before you wave it off. “I’m just kidding, it does make more sense. We’ll probably fall asleep after.”

The blush is still covering his cheeks and he turns towards the room. You’re still laughing softly as you finish cleaning up. It was easy to make him nervous, and made you feel a bit better about your nerves.

Though your friendship was fairly new, you found that you carried a lot in common with each other. It made hanging out all the much easier. Sure you still got a little shy around him. But who wouldn’t? He stood so tall over you but was such a sweetheart, it almost made your teeth hurt.

And you’ll be the first to admit that when you first met there was definitely interest there. But, the weight of both of your growing careers and the lack of time made it hard for anything to come of it. You both had agreed that being close companions until things settled would be the best option. Honestly, you were just ecstatic to find such a warm hearted friend in the end. Regardless of where your paths ended.

You’re still stuck in your thoughts when you make your way into the bedroom. He’s already under the covers, a spot flanked by his arm and pillows waits for you. Turning off the lights and closing the door, you get into his bed. Not even a few seconds pass before he’s pulling into him, resting your head against his chest and securing his arm against your lower back. Snuggling closer you smile, content with your position and the smell of his cologne so close to you.

The first half of the movie passes uneventfully. Izuku’s hand traces small patterns against your back. Up and down, the rhythm matching the pace of your heart. Occasionally he’ll squeeze you a little tighter and you’ll let out a giggle. When you call him out on it, he claims it’s his way of knowing you’re awake.

“What if I was already asleep?” Looking up at hun, you raise a brow. “What about that, hmm?”

“Why are you falling asleep during the movie?” He teases back. “Is it boooring?” Dragging out the word, he tickles your sides. You’re laughing and trying to roll away. Your yells of “no” being drowned out by the large gasps of air being pulled into your lungs.

Finally he gives you mercy and stops, staring as you catch your breath. Looking up, you catch his eye and smile. From this angle the two of you are only a few inches away from being face to face. You blush and look away, rolling your eyes.

“You know, you’re a dor-“ Your teasing insult is cut short as Izuku rushes forward, crashing his lips to yours. One hand moves from your sides to your hip, while the other makes its way upwards. He’s caressing you as he continues kissing you deeper. You place your hands around his neck, tongue poking out between your lips to softly lick at his, deepening the kiss as his mouth opens.

There’s a battle between the two of you, tongues dancing around each other, the grip on your hips becomes bruising, and you can feel the warmth growing between your legs. You catch his lip between your teeth and bite down, pulling it with you slightly as you lean away. Izuku lets out a nearly pornographic moan and chased you back. Pressing his lips to yours rougher than before.

“I ah, I really like when you do that.” He breathes into your mouth. Pulling away, he leans back, resting against the wall. You tuck yourself against his chest again, looking up at him. Looking down, he smiles, “Sorry, I just needed to do that and now I need to calm my heart down… among other things.” He blushes and rubs the back of his head.

The blush tells you everything you need to know. Looking down, you trail a hand to the prominent bulge in his sweats. Teasing him over his pants, you turn your head to face him, “I can always help with that, ‘Zuku” he groans softly and you continue, “if you want me to, of course.”

He gives a soft yes and a nod of his head. Taking your cue you help him pull his sweat and boxers down, allowing his cock to spring up. It’s semi-hard and already looks like it could split you. Settling between his bare legs, you get to work. You let yourself get used to the feeling of his thick cock in your hand. Opening your mouth, you tilt towards it. The head slides into your mouth and continues until it touches the back of your throat and you force yourself to swallow around it.

Izuku groans and throws his head back, “Oh fuck”.

You continue taking it deep in your throat before pulling up for air. Gathering spit in your mouth, your hands slowly pull his cock up and down, once you’ve deemed there was enough you spit on it. Your eyes on Izuku’s the entire time. The warm cavern of your mouth is quick to follow once more, but your hands stay in the same position. Allowing you to jerk him off while you focus on the tip. And focus you do.

Izuku moans once more and his hands find purchase in your hair. You whine as you feel him pull slightly, adjusting his grip before slowly moving your head down his cock once more. “There you go. Oh fuck baby, your mouth is heaven.”

He brings his hips up to meet you in the middle and you let him. You’ve never felt so needy giving head before, all you want is for him to use you while he lets out those beautiful sounds.

“Oh fuck, just like that. So good to me.” He pants loosening his grip slightly. Taking the opportunity you removing your remaining hand and press forward fully. Your nose is buried in the light shadow of hair at the base of his cock. You can feel the tip hitting the back of your throat. Staying there for a pause, you work your tongue around what you can. Pulling back up to the tip, you place your hands around his length once more and begin a fast rhythm. Up and down, while the mix of drool and precum drip from your mouth.

“Please, baby, I’m gonna cum” both hands are on your head once more and the pace of his hips increases. “Just like that, fuck fuck fuck,” he stills as the warm salty liquid spills into your mouth. You continue sucking until he’s whining once more, pulling you off and up towards him.

He pulls you into a deep kiss. Running his hands up and down your body, massaging you softly. Izuku smiles as he pulls away to look at you.

“I think it’s time I return the favor.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Black Light 11

Warnings: noncon, namecalling, violence, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

The first time is supposed to hurt, right? It’s not always romantic, often clumsy, sometimes awkward. It wasn’t most of those things but you don’t know how to describe it. You lay staring at the ceiling, trying to untangle the riddle between your legs.

The faint tingle plucks at you. There were moments you were begging for more, others when you were praying he’d stop. It all blends together in a confusion jumble. You don’t know exactly how it felt or how you feel.

The steady ebb and flow of his breaths and low gristly snores whisper hotly into your scalp. You lay in discomfort, arms still bound behind you, though the gag droops down around your neck. You wiggle and struggle to roll over, facing August and his abnormally serene features. Really tired himself out, didn’t he?

What does it mean? You did all that and now he’s sleeping in your bed. Naturally…

You grunt and crush your hands under you as you sit up. You groan at the knot beneath your shoulder blade and the strain of muscle along your arms. God, you’re all cramped up.

You stand and gently pad around the room. It’s not very late at all. The alarm clock shaped like a lime beams out 10:37pm. Hmm, you would’ve thought him a night owl considering his line of work. Thinking of, shouldn’t he be outside a door barking at coeds?

You leave the room and scurry down the hall. You take your time on the stares, nervous you might fall over, and get down to the first floor. You go into the kitchen and flip on the light with your nose. Good thing your parents won’t be home, you don’t expect you could explain the belt around your wrists or your nudity.

You go to a drawer and turn your back to it. You slide it open and feel around blindly. You find a knife and angle it carefully in your fingers. You like the belt but your hands are throbbing.

You saw at the braided leather for a while. It falls away and the buckle clinks on the tile loudly. You gather up the remnants and toss them in the trash. Ugh, you feel better.

You go back upstairs, hoping to cover yourself up in something cozy. You enter the room and turn on the lights, eliciting a grumble from the man in your bed. Augusts rolls onto his back with his usual growl.

“Turn it off.”

You ignore him and go to your dresser, sliding open a drawer and pulling out your favourite nightie. The one with the little hearts all over it. He snarls again as the bed frame creaks and you turn to face him with the nightie, the knife poking up in your right hand. He sits up as his muscles tense across his chest.

You shake your head at him and open the top of the nightie to step into it. You shimmy up the fabric awkwardly, carefully not to poke yourself with the knife.

“I need to be able to see, sleepy head,” you chide.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands, barrelling towards you. He surprises you as he chops at your wrist and you drop the knife as you recoil and catch the nightie before it can slump back down under your chest. You slide the straps up and let out a whine.

“What was that for?”

He bends and picks up the knife, pointing it at you, “don’t threaten me.”

“What? No, I… I used it to cut the belt. I just forgot–”

“Stupid girls shouldn’t play with knives,” he pokes you with the tip.

“Neither should you,” you stick out your tongue and step back, “god, that’s dangerous, you know?”

He gives you a look, that look you’ve got a million times before. As if what you’re saying is stupidly obvious and it is. He needs to put that down.

“Anyway, I was going to make some hot chocolate,” you shrug and turn back, “so do you want some? I have white or milk chocolate–”

“No,” he snips and lowers the knife.

“Coffee?” You offer, “tea?”

You sweep out of the room as you hold up a finger, thinking. Where did you– You dip into the bathroom as you pass it and retrieve your phone. You sense him behind you, not close, but following you.

“What are you doing?” He grits out.

“I told you, hot chocolate.”

“Give me the phone.”

“No,” you keep on, hopping down the stairs as you key into the phone.

“Give–”

“I’m just changing my status, take a chill pill, old man,” you toss over your shoulder as you get to the bottom of the stairs, “what do you think is better; taken or it’s complicated?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, you are holding a knife so maybe the latter,” you suggest as you continue on to the kitchen. You hit save as you blindly go to the stove and move the kettle onto the burner with one hand. “Done.”

“Done what?” He sneers as he fills the doorway with his large figure, naked and shameless. You give him a look and grab your father’s apron from its hook. You approach him and hold it out.

He glares at you and puffs. He snatches the apron and throws the knife into the sink. He ties it around his waist so you can’t see the silly moniker across the front; Mr. Good Lookin’ is Cookin’.

You put your phone on the counter and open a cupboard. He gets closer, looming just behind you. You take out the jar of cocoa mix and glance back as he squints at your phone.

"We're not dating," he growls.

"Um, okay, that's not what it seems like to me."

"I mean it, that wasn't–"

"Look, you call it what you want, going steady, a situationship."

He's silent. He huffs through his nostrils and backs away from your phone.

"Crazy…" he mutters.

"Pardon?" You grin in his direction.

"I have to get to work," he enunciates clearly as he shakes his head, "uh, bye."

[talulajones-stories]

For Now

She turns the knobs to the shower, steam immediately gathering in the clawfoot tub. And she slips the thin straps off her shoulders, peeling the dress downward over her lace bra, commencing to rolling it over her curves when her phone dings, pulling her focus.

‘Punta Cana?’

She bites down on her lip, but the smile finds its way through. Damon is nothing if not persistent.

She thumbs back, ‘Close.’

Damon has been texting her daily, taking shots as to where she might have run off to.

“How am I supposed to stay out of trouble with you gone.”

“Try your best.” She texts back, though she is not attached how he behaves anymore, not like how she used to in the past, the encouragement is rote. 

She watches the text bubble appear and then disappear, and then reappear with his response. “Are you saying I’m on my own?”

She then wonders if he’s okay, if home is okay, biting at her nails, instead of making any effort to ask him that.

He double texts, probably just as nervous of her response and she was to answer it. “Send me a pic. I’m beginning to forget what you look like.”

She swishes her mouth to the side, staring at his request.

The last time they saw each other was at that biker bar, when he found her after her running into his brother.  There are holes in her memory of what all happened between them, some of them lost to that bottle of Jack Daniels they finished, and some she does remember, but doesn’t know what to make of them.

Like the way she felt when he straddled the stool next to her, his legs open, blocking her in, letting everyone in the bar know she was with him. He had leaned into her, drinking from her glass, placing his mouth on the imprint of her lip gloss, his eyes locked on hers. She had asked him why he was there, frustrated that he had tracked her down, only for him to simply smile and say, “Haven’t you heard the saying, Bonnie? The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

She swipes at the steam on the bathroom mirror, leaving a clear streak for her to see herself and approve.  She thinks she will send him something to throw him off. Send him a selfie, with the angle just right, undoing her braids and tousling her dark strands, letting the light shine on her bare shoulders, giving the semblance of not only being naked, but that wherever she is, that he doesn’t know about, she’s having a lot of fun.

She snaps the pic and lowers the phone, finger poised over the button, wishing she could be a fly on the wall to see his reaction—when it hits her. The rest of the fragments of that night. Hearing herself, distant, arguing with him in the gravel lot outside the bar, him holding her keys out of reach, and her shoving him. “You treated Enzo like he stole something from you the entire time we were together.” And then him grabbing her, the keys digging into her skin so deeply she can feel it now, his mouth so close to hers as he spat, “Because he did.”

With a decisive flick, she locks the screen, the image unsent, and finishes undressing to take her shower.

+++

Bonnie scrubs her skin raw with the loofah, butterscotch skin smarting red and irritated as she is as she stands under the hot spray of water.

She wasn’t even angry with Damon anymore. She had been, at first—violently so. But she’d had years to get through that. Enzo helped. And she’d come to accept the fact that Damon was always going to be, well, Damon.

He had gone on and on about how she should have read his letter when they were being civil in the bar, when she was actually happy he had found her. He said if she had read it then it would have changed everything. She told him she didn’t want to hear another fucking word about that damn letter.

She still has it, though. The letter. It’s packed up with the rest of the things she hid in boxes out in her Gram’s garage.

She pulls down the shower head, sets it to massage, and angles it between her legs, trying to find release. Closing her eyes, she pictures a stranger, maybe that biker, maybe someone else with dark hair.

Her mind drifts, uncooperative. It clings to Damon and his apologies. “I shouldn’t have said that about Enzo,” he’d said, blocking her from leaving him alone in that parking lot. Gravel had crunched beneath their feet, her vision blurred with hot tears as his leather jacket had blocked her view of the car. He had lifted her braid over her shoulder, tucking it behind her so he could cradle the side of her neck, holding her still to get her to hear him out, his voice a broken whisper when he said, “Don’t go, Bon.”

She focuses on the water pressure and the pounding sensation, longing for it to bring her to the present moment. But it doesn’t. Her body refuses to respond.

Her phone dings again. Of course, it does.

She slams the shower head into place, and reaches for a towel.

There was a time when Damon was who she wanted—like when her life was tethered and traded away in a spell that put her best friend into a coma, or when a militarized faction of hunters was trying to track her down to use her in their twisted experiments. But he made a choice, and he left her to sleep in box.

She ends her conversation with Damon, texting back that he didn’t have to keep checking up on her; she was good.

[eitherlyingorstupid]

Wanted to get better at reader/canon so. Gn human reader/Beachcomber, ambiguous genitals. @pinkanonwrites I figured you'd like this

You run a hand over the rounded, blue extensions on Beachcomber's head. "What are these for?" You're sitting on his shoulder, in a secluded cove. Lights dance on the roof, reflected from the gentle waves below.

"Mm… ultrasonic detection… sonar, radar, and all that." His voice is thick and husky, and his engine rumbles. You've been hanging out with the minibot for quite some time, and you enjoy feeling the vibrations of his machinery.

You lean closer, feeling his warmth, breathing in the familiar, metallic tang of oil and electricity. "So, these… they help you navigate, or something?"

"Not exactly. Well, they do, but that's not all. They're also… sensory organs, I suppose. They help me feel the currents in the water, sense movement in the sand… and, well…" He pauses, his optics flickering down to your hand. "…they also give me… pleasure."

You freeze, unsure whether to tug your hand away or keep going.

"I'm sorry if that's too… forward," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just… I haven't felt this connected to someone in a long time. I don't want to lose it now."

You swallow hard, feeling a mixture of shock and something else you can't quite identify. "It's okay," you manage to say, your voice barely audible. "I'm… enjoying this too." You stroke the sensor crest, feeling rather than hearing a moan rise from his throat.

Beachcomber shudders, leaning his head against you. "Oh, Primus… you have no idea how good that feels…" He pauses, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't be doing this… not with a human…"

"Why not? Is it some sort of taboo?"

"It's… complicated. It's just not something that's encouraged." He hesitates, then continues, "Not when you're in close quarters with a human. It's not fair to them… to expect them to understand." Beachcomber sucks on his lower lip. It's a surprisingly erotic sight.

"But I understand, and I want this." You lean forward and kiss him gently on the cheek. "I want to be with you."

"Even with me being so big?"

You smile against his cheek, running your hands along his crest. "Especially with you being so big. You're so strong, and I feel so safe with you."

His fans are starting to kick on, and the air around you almost feels charged like you're in a thunderstorm.

"Well… if you're sure…" he whispers, his voice barely audible over the whir of his systems. "I… I would like that." He lifts one hand to his shoulder, gently picking you up by the waist and setting you on the ground. He's shifted his position, legs spread and hips angled up. "I suppose I could show you…"

The panels on his groin retract, and you find yourself staring at what looks a lot like a fleshlight.

"I've never done this before," he confesses, his voice shaking. "I've… never wanted anyone like this before. But I want you… so much…" Beachcomber reaches down to spread the dark blue lips of his - his pussy, and there's even a little white clitoris nestled in the folds.

"It looks just like a human… uh, vulva."

"My kind is incredibly adaptable. Our frames change to imitate the native creatures of the planets we visit… before I came here, I had four arms and wheels instead of legs." His fingers gently massage the clit through its hood. "And now, I have two arms, two legs, and… this."

You can't help but stare, mesmerized by the sight of him touching himself. It's so intimate, so… human. Your heart races.

Beachcomber gazes down at you, his expression a mix of desire and vulnerability. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, his fingers moving faster. "I want to make you feel good too."

He pulls you closer, positioning you between his legs. His hands guide you, showing you how to touch him, where to touch him. You feel the heat coming off his plating, the muscles (or gears, probably) in his thighs tense as he holds you against him. His hips move involuntarily, grinding against your stomach as you begin to stroke him.

You slide a hand down to the soft, wet hole. Three fingers fit with room to spare, and a fourth makes the opening stretch. Beachcomber moans as you gently push your entire hand inside. You can't help but giggle as you realize you're fisting a giant alien robot.

"You're so tight," you murmur, feeling his inner walls clench around your fingers. "And you feel so good." He responds by pushing his hips forward, forcing your fingers deeper inside. You begin to thrust, matching his movements as he fucks your hand.

Beachcomber's other hand pinches and rolls his clit.

"That feels so good," he moans. "You're doing such a good job… I can't… I'm close…" His thrusts become more frantic, his hips trembling. "Faster, don't stop…"

You obey, thrusting your hand faster and harder. The wet heat of his insides envelops your fingers as he comes, his pussy clamping down on you in a powerful spasm.

"Frag, yes!" he cries out, his voice thick with pleasure. "Oh god, I'm… I'm going to… ohhhhh…" He trembles with the aftershocks.

As his grip on you eases, you slide your hand out of him, feeling his warmth and the wetness left behind. There was something surreal at having this huge, powerful being react this way to your touch.

"Are you… okay?" you ask, feeling slightly out of breath.

Beachcomber lets out a shuddering breath, his frame going still for a moment. Then, with a smile that takes over his face, he answers, "Better than okay. Thank you." He lifts one hand to your face, cupping your cheek gently. "You're incredible. I want to return the favor."

You blush and nod. "I'd like that."

He gently picks you up with both hands, bringing you to his face so he can nuzzle into your belly.

"You're so warm, and soft, and you smell so good…" He nibbles at your shirt, pulling it out of the way to expose your stomach. "I want to taste you…" His tongue sweeps out, licking over your skin, before he finds your nipple with his lips. They're made of tiny overlapping metal pieces, each smaller than a dime, hard but without sharp edges.

You arch your back, moaning softly as pleasure shoots through you.

His tongue slides lower, lapping at your clothed sex.

"Your skin feels so smooth here too," he whispers, nuzzling closer. He pulls your underwear aside with a thumb. His tongue darts out, you feel the wet heat of his breath on your skin, the warmth of his tongue as it licks and circles. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent, before burying his face between your legs. His hands cup your hips, holding you steady as his tongue begins to move, probing and exploring.

You moan, arching your back as pleasure washes over you. His touch is so intimate, so gentle, it's almost too much to bear. You feel the arousal between your legs, the heat of his breath on your skin, the vibration of his growl as he works you. You slid your fingers across his smooth head, holding him close, urging him on.

His tongue flicks out, teasing your most sensitive place, circling it before sucking it into his mouth. You cry out, your body tensing, every nerve ending focused on the sensation of his lips and tongue. He's relentless, his touch skillful, knowing exactly what you need. You come, your body shuddering with release as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

Beachcombers engine growls low as he finally lowers you, holding you to his chest.

"Frag, you're amazing," he breathes, his voice hoarse from desire. "You taste so good…" He kisses your shoulder, his lips hot and soft against your skin.

"Thanks," you manage. Your clothes are in disarray, but this has been worth it.

[hypnoneghoul]

now hear me out: eds ghouls but how it impacts sex

rain fully getting fucked and just dislocating something about halfway through

595 words of exactly what the ask says

"What the FUCK just happened?" Swiss shrieked, hovering over Rain with the most confused and terrified expression the water ghoul ever saw on his face. "Did I break your fucking back?"

"N- no, chill, Swiss," Rain laughed. He was laughing, actually giggling, highly amused by Swiss' reaction, apparently, "it happens sometimes, you know that."

"Yeah but it never happened while I'm quite literally fucking you into the mattress!" the multi ghoul panicked, trying to not move an inch worried about making things worse.

"You didn't break anything, it's fine," Rain tried calming him down, but his reaction was just to funny, he couldn't stop laughing. "And it's not my back, just my hip."

"JUST your hip!? Your fucking hip, just what, popped out and you're laughing?"

"Well... yeah, it's funny," the water ghoul continued chuckling, tears were gathering in the corners of his eyes by now, making Swiss terrified even more.

"W- why are you crying, does it hurt, what am I supposed to do, what-" he started rambling, trying to move off of Rain and pull his cock out of him with as little movement as he could.

"Shhh, I'm not crying, it's from laughing," he placed his hands on Swiss' biceps, squeezing gently to ground and calm him a bit, "I'ts fine, doesn't even hurt, if I'm being honest."

"Are- are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Rain said, smiling genuinely. Swiss seemed to believe them, but he paled a bit when he looked down to where one of Rain's legs was laying bent at a weird angle, the space over his hip looking like something was poking out from under his skin. Something that wasn't supposed to, that is.

Swiss witnessed Rain dislocating a lot of body parts over the years but he genuinely never saw his body do something like that.

"This doesn't look not-painful," he noted, moving away from that leg.

"I swear, it's fine," Rain chuckled again, poking himself in the hip with his finger, "See, didn't even flinch. It's fine, I'll fix it later."

"Bitch, the fuck you mean later!? Why not now?"

"Because now I'm still laying here extremely hard and leaking, same as you," he noted, how accurately.

"Oh, hell nah, not gonna touch you until you fix it," Swiss lifted both of his hand up in the air, moving even further away from Rain. The water ghoul sighed, running a hand down his face, smile still on it. He knew Swiss meant that, and no matter how down he always was for him, he wouldn't win him over this time.

"Okay, help me sit up then," Rain reached his hand out to Swiss, and he, very carefully, grabbed it and pulled him to a sitting position. It made his hip look even more concerning and the multi ghoul was very close to panicking again.

The water ghoul grabbed his knee with both hands and threw the dislocated leg over the edge of the bed, planting his foot on the floor. Swiss stared with wide eyes as Rain placed one of his hands on the outside of his hip, just over that weird thing poking out, and the other one lower, on the inside, just over his thigh. With a sharp push of the one hand something cracked loudly and Swiss let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding.

"There," Rain sighed, kicking that leg in the air, "can you put your dick back in me now, please?"

Well, Swiss was known to never be able to say no to Rain, especially when he said please.

[fidgetspringer-art]

question. i cannot for the life of me to get cats to look right when i draw them. is there a secret to drawing cats

Good question! I suppose it depends on what exactly it is you're struggling with, but I can give you some of the pointers i've used myself!

Overall, when looking at cat anatomy they're built very basic, very close to dogs, but there's a few things that will help your anatomy read more feline than canine. First off is the posture. Dogs move with more energy and purpouse, driving forwards from the rear. Cats move more languidly and don't push off with their hind as much as dogs do. So when drawing cats I like to keep their posture relaxed and lower to the ground.

Cats brace a lot of their weight on their front legs. See how the tuxedo's back slopes vaguely downwards towards his head? Cats also have slightly more elongated bodies with shorter legs, and they lack that characteristic "tuck" that dogs have to their underline, with a less defined rib cage.

Head shape is another thing that's a little difficult. But if you break it down it'll make more sense. Here are the shapes I look for to act as landmarks:

From the front, the lines that form the base of the ears, and the lines of the cheek bones (which are very prominent in a lot of cats) together form a sort of diamond shape. The fur on the cheeks frame that diamond and join the rest of the face with the muzzle.

The shape of the muzzle itself also forms a smaller diamond.

Those blue lines are the first landmarks I add in once i've drawn the basic circle of the head, no matter what angle I draw it from.

I have no idea if this makes sense, but I hope this helps!

[iiryoku]

"Vasha, come here for a moment." Kakavasha called from the other room. He felt a little nervous, truth be told. After all, he had never celebrated his birthday before, not since that day. So he tried looking at it from a different angle. He isn't celebrating his own birthday, he is celebrating his twin brother's birthday. Vasha deserves that, far more than himself. In a neat little box; beautifully wrapped with luxurious wrapping and silken lace - lay a treasure. A treasure fetched from far away, from a place he had not visited since childhood. A golden little trinket lay inside the box; polished and restored to it's former glory and shine, now with an added golden chain to easily wear it around once's neck. It belonged to their mother once, given to him - now he will give it to Vasha, as a symbol of their familial bond. "Here, this is for you, Vasha. Happy birthday."

@sagnaevi BIRTHDAY ASK. / ALWAYS ACCEPTING.

Hearing his brother call for him, Vasha closed the book, that had been resting between slender digits before he got up from the leather chair, that he had been sitting in. Without a word, clad legs carried him through their current home. As soon as he spotted Kakavasha, neon depths settled on him, taking in the familiar features, that were a mirror image of his own - which was understandable, with them being identical twins. To be honest, Vasha had never really celebrated his own birthday, simply because it had been painful, to celebrate a day, you were supposed to share with someone, who was nothing less than your other half. The day that he had thought he had lost Kakavasha, had been the worst day of his life and any reminders had been too painful - therefore, he had put up a wall around them and forced any reminders, that he could, away; like their birthday, for example. The first birthday that he had, after everything that had happened, had been buried in cries and sobs as he had clung onto the only thing that, was left of his brother; his memory and his comforting words, that had been so very clear in his mind, that was, until, he had locked them away for good, something that had only happened after he had become numb enough to do it.

Seeing the little, beautifully wrapped package in his brother's hand, Vasha gazed at it, not quite understanding, why he was given a gift. However as soon as he heard those words directed at him, neon depths moved from the gift to his brother's features a few times as something welled up within his chest. Reaching out, with slightly shaky hands, he took the gift before unwrapping it. The sight of the familiar trinket made Vasha inhale suddenly, a sound that shook as the feeling within his chest became overwhelming. Tears swelled up within neon depths and despite a hand, having moved up to cover the evidence, the salty liquid still wandered down fair cheeks before dripping onto the polished floors below. It took a lot to make him cry, nowadays, but seemingly, he was going to do it a lot in front of Kakavasha. Biting his lower lip, so the skin threatened to become bruised, Vasha was lost for words for a moment as he recalled the day, that their mother had spoken about this trinket.

❝ I-I thought... it was lost.. ❞

left through unsteady inhales and exhales as he tried his hardest to stop the tears, but to him, this was something completely new as he hadn't allowed himself to properly feel, for years. Holding the trinket to his chest, he wanted to protest, wanted to give it back to his brother as he felt like he didn't deserve it, due to having not found Kakavasha before that day. However, knowing how rude that would be, he simply stood there. Ah, it felt like his chest, was becoming too heavy to bear and that the feelings were rising to his throat; it felt choking and yet, there was a familiar warmth amongst it, a warmth that only his brother made him feel. He wasn't ungrateful, far from it - he was immensely touched and simply had no idea, how to deal with it.

❝ T-Thank you... I-I.. just need.. a m-moment.. ❞

Finally being able to pull himself together, Vasha lifted his head, with eyes having formed into half-moons, where tears still pressed past as a shaky smile was aimed at Kakavasha. Vasha couldn't find it in himself to care, about how the salty liquid clung to his blond eyelashes or how they still made a little song as they connected with the surface below. All he cared about, was uttering the words that rested upon his tongue as he lifted a hand, to hold the palm of it towards his brother, like they had done as kids, so they could connect through both touch and mind.

❝ Happy birthday to you as well, K-Kakavasha. May the coming ones be spend together, in warmth and laughter.. ❞

" ፕቿ ጎሁጔቿនር, ቻዪልፕቿ. "

the last words were spoken in their mother tongue as Vasha continued to smile, despite the tears.

[viktoriakomova]

What's wrong with the ballet footage? Gen question, I don't know much about ballet

ok i will separate this into 2 parts, glaring fundamental flaws and pedantic nitpicky shit (which, to be fair, should only be corrected once the former are dealt with. but it looks like neither are happening any time soon so...)

Part 1: The Egregious

Zero turnout happening. Usually i'd point to the hips and talk about if the rotation is coming from the hips (good) or the knees and/or feet (bad very bad and kinda dangerous esp in gymnastics). but they arent even doing that.

The arms. The elbows should be slightly bent to create a "curved" look. The arms should be held up and in front of you with your hands around the height of your belly button, supported from your upper back muscles. The girl in the back (nola???) actually has hers pretty good (ignoring the hands, see below) but i would say she should have them a little lower and it looks like her delts are doing the work to keep her arm lifted instead of her back muscles.

Alignment. its difficult to tell from this one screenshot (i refuse to put in the effort to watch these frames 100x to get a great one im sorry) both because the legs are straightening (after what is ostensibly a plié lol) and bc of the camera angle, but you should be able to draw a straight vertical line from the ball of the foot to the hips to the shoulders. again the girl in the back looks a lot better than jade or kayla here.

More issues with turnout here that are more evident (bc theyre making an actual attempt to turn out here) they're starting to turn in passé here, i wont bother trying to articulate what the legs are supposed to look like bc miss betty okino here is doing it correctly xoxo.

i'll start with leanne. her supporting leg is actually quite nice and she's very high up on relevé, her ankle is straight/extended and right on top of the ball of her foot with her knee straight and quads engaged. however the leg she's bringing up to passé (pretty late, since shes turning, i should add) is basically totally turned in. the muscles in the hip that rotate the leg outward are doing nothing. the leg should be turned out from the hip the whole time you're bringing the foot up to the front of the knee.

now onto kayla. i circled the reflection because you can see the leg positions better, the video crops it out. she has the same issue with the hip turnout of the free leg, but her supporting leg is also turned in. look at the knee in the reflection. it's basically not turning out at all, but her supporting foot is like 45º turned out. considering that they're turning in this screenshot, thats bad news. turning out from the foot (ie rotating outward at the ankle) instead of the hip puts a lot of torque on your knee. its obviously not nearly as severe as the stress that twisting into the ground on a tumbling pass would put on it, just bc of the force being applied there, but its still not harmless.

Part 2: The Nitpicky

The hands...... how are the fingers (jade's and kayla's) the body part doing the most work here 💀 broken wrists (but like. tense and intentional, inexplicably???), palms facing the floor. hyperextended fingers. thumbs rotated away/out from the palms. the wrist should be straight but not rigid, it should complete the "curve" mentioned above when i talked about the elbows. the thumbs should be in, but again not taut, just relaxed by the rest of your fingers. its hard to explain verbally how the fingers should be, but they shouldnt be taut and/or stuck together either (aka pancake hands or karate chop hands lol). the girl in the back, her hand would be decent if she put her thumb in and rotated her wrist 90º counter-clockwise

Forward head carriage. That's my only gripe about Girl In The Back's posture, and even that isnt really Bad, otherwise it's great. Kayla's would be fine too but her shoulders themselves are a little too forward. Jade's is.... not great, it looks like she carries a lot of tension in her neck. i typed this whole post hunched over in my bed tho so.... do as i say not as i do ;)

i didnt bother editing the picture to circle it lol but kayla's foot is sickled in the pic with okino

also the first pic is hard to look at alignment/posture bc none of them are on the same count kfjdkjfkdjfk so musicality is a big fat L there