#just these black and white frames IT'S SO GOOD

[mrrharper]

Fitting Into The Gear

The funniest thing? He wasn’t planning to buy anything.

He just wandered into the store selling motorcycle gear to look around. He planned to get a license in the near future and wanted to check how much would he have to save for the gear alone.

So he walked in and looked around, surrounded by the rich smell of brand new leather and plastic. He was quickly joined by a staff member, a beefy bro type, who very enthusiastically started explaining to him all the details he should focus on while searching if he wanted to get the best and sickest looking gear for himself.

All this talk made him want to try on some stuff, see how it looked on him. He ended up with a helmet and a mid range motorcycle suit, which he brought into the changing room located in the back of the store. He took off most of his clothes and began the process of putting on the suit, which took him a moment as he had never worn anything like this before. When that was done, the leather was clinging to his body more tightly than he expected, but thankfully it wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling.

Then came the helmet, which was another hurdle. It was supposed to sit tight on his head, or so the bro biker told him earlier, which meant that putting it on also took a while.

When he was finally done he turned around and faced the full-body mirror on the back wall to see how he looked. And he didn’t look half bad. Pretty good even. Yes, the leather suit was a bit too large for his lanky frame, but the helmet added a certain… something to his appearance which he found almost hot. Yeah, really hot.

Hot… wait, was he getting hotter? Yes, his body was now feeling significantly warmer than just a few moments before. But that must have bean because of the suit, which was all leather and thus probably good at capturing the heat radiating off of his body.

But then he moved a bit and he felt it. There was something wrong with his body and he was certain it wasn’t the suit or there helmet. His body felt different. He looked down and furrowed his brow. Did his chest look… larger? Actually, his arms looked bulkier as well. And his midsection too… his legs also! What the fuck? Why was his body expanding? And was it actually? He quickly pulled the zipper of the suit and got out of the upper half, then froze. His t-shirt was no longer there. Instead, he was now wearing a Nike compression shirt that… holy fuck, he was jacked! He had visible, quite meaty pecs! And these biceps and forearms… the fuck? How could this happen? This mush have been a hallucination, this was not real!

He was about to run out of the changing booth when the visor of his helmet started glowing and he just couldn’t look away. So he stood still as his mind began reshaping itself, his personality, thoughts, emotions, habits, all shifting, disappearing and appearing again. His brain was like clay and the helmet was remaking him into someone else.

That someone else was an obnoxious biker bro. He worked in the store, selling motorcycle gear to dudes who wanted to be just like him - jacked, with a sick bike between their legs. In the evenings he worked out or ran away from the cops with his brahs. His life was simple, as his thoughts focused on two things only, riding and lifting. There was nothing else that felt was necessary for him. He was hot as fuck after all, dudes like him weren’t supposed to worry about shit. He’d just flex and drive away on his black-and-white Ninja 700, leaving only a few skid marks on the asphalt behind him.

[cheeseatlantic]

yabadabadoooooo

!serialkillerghost x !ballerinareader

cws: graphic depictions of violence, severed body parts, protective/obsessive behaviour, dark themes (stalking, revenge) and mentions of blood and injury

Soft Hands, Sharp Teeth

The apartment was quiet when you stepped inside, the only sound your soft, unsteady breathing. The day had been long, exhausting in a way you couldn’t quite name, but it wasn’t the dancing that had left you drained—it was him.

Your dance partner.

His hands had been too much, too firm, fingers brushing where they shouldn’t. A lingering touch on your waist, an unwelcome slide of his palm against your ribs. You hadn’t said anything, too stunned, too unsure if you were overreacting. But the sick feeling in your stomach told you otherwise.

You sniffled, toeing off your ballet flats, and it was then that you noticed him.

Simon sat on the couch, one arm draped over the back, his large frame relaxed in the dim glow of the lamp. His mask was off, but the black compression shirt stretched over his broad chest, his military dog tags resting against the fabric. He was watching you, eyes sharp, assessing.

“Rough day, birdie?” His voice was low, smooth, always laced with that warmth he reserved just for you.

Your lip wobbled.

That was all it took.

He was on his feet in an instant, crossing the space between you, his hands coming up to cup your face. His palms were rough, calloused, but his touch was so gentle. Like he thought you might break.

“Tell me.”

Your fingers curled into his sleeves, seeking comfort. “It’s stupid,” you mumbled.

His brows drew together. “Not if it upset you.”

You swallowed, looking down. “My dance partner… I didn’t like how he touched me.”

Silence.

It stretched long enough that you finally glanced up at him, only to find his expression completely blank. No anger, no frustration—just nothing.

“Where?” His voice was too calm.

You hesitated, then lifted a hand, touching your waist. “Here. And… here.” You traced a spot over your ribs. “I don’t think he meant anything by it, but—”

“You don’t have to defend him.” His fingers curled slightly against your skin. “You didn’t like it. That’s enough.”

You exhaled shakily, nodding. Simon had always made you feel safe, even if you didn’t fully understand why. He was a soldier, a protector—your protector.

His thumb brushed over your cheek. “You’re tired,” he murmured. “Go to bed, yeah?”

“But—”

“Shh.” His lips quirked, something almost amused in his expression. “That’s an order, little ballerina.”

You huffed but let him lead you to bed, tucking you beneath the soft covers. He sat beside you for a long moment, stroking your hair, waiting until your breathing evened out.

You didn’t hear him leave.

SIMON’S POV

It wasn’t hard to find the bastard.

He was a predictable little shit—smug, unassuming, the type of man who thought he was untouchable because no one had ever given him a reason to believe otherwise. Simon followed him from the studio, let him drink with his mates at the bar, let him laugh like he hadn’t laid hands on her.

Then he cornered him in the alley behind the building.

The man barely had time to react before Simon shoved him up against the damp brick, gloved fingers pressing against his windpipe just enough to scare. Not enough to kill.

Yet.

“You like putting your hands where they don’t belong?” His voice was smooth, almost amused.

The man choked, grasping at Simon’s wrist. “W-what the fuck—”

Simon didn’t let him finish. He slammed his head back against the wall with a satisfying crack and watched as the fight drained out of him.

“You don’t touch her.” His voice dropped lower, dangerous. “Not her waist. Not her ribs. Not her fucking shadow. You understand?”

The man whimpered, nodding weakly.

Simon smiled. “Good.”

Then he pulled the knife.

The screams didn’t last long.

A soft knock at your door roused you from sleep. You stretched, blinking blearily as you padded across the apartment. Outside, resting on the doorstep, was a pristine white box, wrapped in a delicate pink ribbon.

Your lips curled into a sleepy smile. Simon always gave you little gifts—things he thought you’d like, trinkets and sweets, small tokens of affection. You carried the box inside, settling at the table as you untied the ribbon and lifted the lid.

Inside, nestled in layers of delicate white tissue paper, were two severed hands.

Familiar hands.

Hands that forced themselves onto you.

Your stomach twisted, a sharp inhale catching in your throat, but before you could process it, a note slipped free from the tissue, fluttering onto the table.

Won’t be touching you again, birdie.

Your heartbeat pounded against your ribs.

You should have screamed. You should have been horrified.

Instead, warmth crept up your neck, something dark curling low in your belly. Because deep down, beneath all the innocence, all the softness—

You knew exactly who had left you this gift.

And you knew he was only protecting what was his.

[amarriageoftrueminds]

ITA that Bucky was never intended to be a protagonist in this show!

On top of doing damage-control to mitigate the resented attention which SebStan's fan fave draws -- to what I suspect the creators think should only be a black story, and I agree... we should be getting characters in Sam's story because they make sense being there, not because Mackie and Stan get along IRL.

...I also think part of the reason why they wrote Bucky as an asshole butt-monkey is because they think it's the Worf Effect way to make Sam look good.

(You see the same idiotic writing in CATFA, where they introduce only one named, non-Designated Love Interest female character, and make them a generic, sexy-baby-voice dumb blonde slut, who sexually molests Steve and is never heard from again.

There are likewise 40+ chorus girls in Steve's USO show whose names we never learn -- because if they were named, and nice, and competent... well that would upstage the DLI. Same reason we never get to see Steve's mother, or Bucky's family, and why the fatws show shits on Bucky's time / close connections in Wakanda, just to copy them with a new set of black people swapped into T'Challa, Shuri-and-the-village-kid's places. As if black people are interchangeable or only 'count' if they're American!)

The problem with this Worf Effect approach is that 'better than a shitty clumsy ex-Hydra dudebro' would make Sam average, not great.

And this is transparently also why they nerf Bucky -- to make unenhanced Sam's skill level look better by comparison.

Then they reverse it by making their generic ex-Hydra dudebro suddenly kiss ass (as if that's a compliment) but only after he has been 'redeemed.'

Bucky is designated butt-monkey and Ignorant White Guy... until they need someone Good to compliment Sam, when suddenly Bucky is a 'hero for the first time.' 🙄 I wouldn't be shocked if certain bits in BNW followed the same pattern.

(Meanwhile, thinly-veiled-Nazi Zemo gets to mansplain supremacy and racism and how much he loves Marvin Gaye, to prove how cool he is… to a black man. My jaw dropped, my flabber was gasted..)

It also struck me that there was a kind of 'what happened to us isn't bad if it happens to a white guy, right?' power fantasy about the way Bucky is treated in tfatws. (Again, parallels with how the DLI is written in CATFA).

Think about how closely Bucky's life before & in tfatws mirrors a historically black experience:

his history, memory, ties to his family, even his very name, erased by those who abducted him into slavery;

(an experience for which he is punished and blamed in perpetuity, instead of the people who did that to him);

universally profiled as innately dangerous and violent (when he's innocent and has been living in blameless quiet for years);

monitored by the state / made to jump through hoops just to prove his right to exist in peace because of this (yet simultaneously told his desire for peace is bullshit);

arrested off the street by racist cops, when he hasn't done anything wrong except raise his voice;

'sold' into sexual slavery to a rich white woman in a foreign country

(followed up by other-race colleague bemoaning the suffering of... another rich white woman in that foreign country?? who has also been a twat to Bucky?)

stared at with bewildered suspicion when he shows up... to help;

'jokingly' warned off dating woman-of-other-race by her brother. 😬

In another 'verse, where it was Gabriel Jones who got serum, fell from the train, and was made into the WS, if you included all these beats in his story, people would be like 'wow, they're really driving home the black experience, huh?' They would read as the generic things that you'd almost expect to see in a historic black character's life story.

(And if Gabriel Jones was framed as having undergone all this willingly, and told he needs to make reparations to Hydra's victims... I mean, could you fucking believe that??)

So it feels like someone writing TFATWS subconsciously thought, 'I wish I could see a white character suffer the same shitty treatment black guys have had.'

And Bucky is the designated douchebag white guy because... him being too good would upstage Sam, and Walker can't be bad because he has a fridged black friend! (Bucky's black friends don't count because they're not American, not Sam, and/or because the writers couldn't be bothered to learn they existed). So this falls on Bucky.

And sadly, that approach to a token white guy in a black-centered story could potentially be super interesting in a Noughts & Crosses way, if the people writing it: a) were actually aware that that is what they were doing, b) had written the person it's happening to as a decent guy, to make their historically-black suffering sympathetic, and have the black characters recall when the same thing happened to them or their family because of their race, and the thus two characters be drawn closer together by their similar experiences.

(Rather than what we got, which is these eerily similar traumas happening to Bucky in front of black characters, who then either dismiss them or completely ignore them as if nothing bad or unfair has happened. It's downright bizarre!)

Just saw some people talking about how tfatws was crafted to make Bucky seem like more of a villain and unlikable for the fans and I think that another important factor of this is not only that it'll turn fans against his character, but it also means that these fans will go after other people who see through this bs and still like/defend Bucky's character. By convincing these fans that Bucky willingly worked for white supremacists and was culpable in the assassinations he carried out as WS, these fans now have a lot of ammunition to not only use against his character but any remaining fans of his. It sucks cause it's really gonna accomplish nothing except fracturing the fandom further (which let's face it, the mcu fandom is already one of the most fractured and toxic fandoms out there).

I see where you’re coming from but I’m going to counter with the fact that this is giving Spellman’s writing chops more credit than it deserves.

(Watch out, the salt is strong with this one, bring a glass of water)

I don’t think he set out intentionally to make Bucky fans into fandom outcasts. That requires a level of subtlety, guile and flair I just don’t see in the script - you only have to look to Sam’s two important speeches to know how grievously his writing falls short.

What I see is a very immature and (as others have pointed out) unprofessional approach to writing, where he has not watched the first 3 Cap movies - or if he has, not bothered to take notes. It’s clear he has no idea that Bucky was fighting against the Nazis before he became a POW. Sebastian had to remind the writers that Bucky was an assassin (did they think he was literally just a soldier?). It’s also poignant to note that his belief about Bucky needing to make amends partially hinges on the fact that Bucky killed the Starks - so we already have problem #1 here when a Team IM scriptwriter is signed on to write for the new Captain America. They are already biased against what Steve and Sam stood for.

So his planning process is really this:

1) Bucky was an assassin for Hydra. He must feel guilty, so let’s make him redeem himself by making amends. The reason I don’t think Spellman intentionally set out to make Bucky indefensible is his genuine pride when he proclaims Bucky redeemed himself at the end by saving a van and being “ironically” adopted by a Black family. Bucky the Howling Commando who died fighting Nazis adopted “ironically” by a Black family. Bucky the guy who’s been saving Steve’s ass since the playground “first time being a hero”.

Let me pause here and scream at the wall.

2) Bucky, as the character neither the director nor the writer likes, had to be the one to do all the shitty things.

I seriously mean it on this one, and I’ve been wanting to say it for a while.

Skogland said “everyone likes Walker”. This is why - incoherently - Bucky had to play the privileged white male trope, because Walker needed a redeeming quality and that was his relationship with Lemar.

Let me pause again to go scream at the wall.

Never mind that this story should be about Sam and Bucky, and that it really should have shown us the affection and kindness between our leads, they couldn’t bear to let Walker actually be a full villain so instead, they gave the privileged white male role to Bucky while Walker and Lemar actually have a functional friendship. ARGH.

Then we have the issue of needing to bring in Zemo, and redeem Zemo into an anti-villain. Zemo had to be likeable, more likeable than Bucky. So instead of allowing Zemo to just break out on his own (WHICH HE DID ANYWAY), they made Bucky go and get him out in order to break off his relationship with Wakanda.

And because they’ve given BUCKY the role of the ignorant white male within a story that addresses systemic racism, of course his actions become indefensible, never mind that all of this is completely inconsistent with his character.

Sorry this got long but the more I look at TFATWS from a writing standpoint, the more this series enrages me. It’s not even that they cared enough about Bucky to systemically ruin him - it’s because they really DGAF about Bucky so they just made him do all the wrong actions in the plot, in order to preserve their other precious characters.

[stargazedwinchester]

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `camaro, dean winchester

Summary: You run into the brothers at a gas station in your Chevy Camaro. Word Count: 797 Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

“Thank you for your time.” Sam nods politely at the couple before exiting the store. The brothers visited a gas station connected to the murder of a woman who had purchased items there shortly before she died. Their original plan was to visit the husband of said lady, to see what’s really going on. Dean pulls the gas pump out of the holder and plunges the dispenser into the impala. His eyes meet Sams, who purses his lips at him. “Nothin’,” he says, taking a gander of the whole place.

The gas station itself is situated practically in the middle of nowhere; desert and tumbleweeds reside close by. They’re smack in the middle of Arizona, the southwestern heat quite literally radiates off of the tarmac. Dean sighs, checking the price on the tank. Another vehicle’s parked beside the other pump. Dean’s eyebrows furrow, examining the car. “Damn,” he huffs, a frown forming on his face as he notices the Chevrolet badge on the side of the vehicle. “Whoever’s driving that thing has good taste.” He chuckles at Sam, then the door to the store opens up, the doorbell chiming as it’s pushed open.

And there you are, suited up in a black blazer paired with a tight, black above the knee skirt and a white blouse. You’re wearing your favourite jewellery and your hair tied neatly in a claw clip. You’re looking down at your phone, clipboard gripped under your other arm. Your phone rings, and you don’t hesitate to answer. “He won’t tell me anything. I tried everything, but the guy won’t budge.” You admit, sandwiching your phone between your shoulder and your ear, fiddling in your purse for your car key. Your car unlocks, and you toss the clipboard to the passenger side before shutting the door again. You lean against your car, the sun blaring down at you. “No, I know, I just can’t figure it out…” You sigh in defeat. Dean whips his head around to Sam, a hopeful, gleaming look in his eyes. Sam rolls his eyes before entering the Impala. He hangs up the dispenser before making his way around to you.

You hang up the phone, placing it into your pocket. “Hey.” Dean says, grinning at you. “Hey yourself.” You scoff, reaching for your car key once more. “Sorry, uh…” He hesitates, “Y/N.” You pause, glancing at him. “I’m Dean, uh, I just couldn’t help but notice your car here…” He slows, before examining it again. “What make is it?” He asks, a genuine tone in his voice. “It’s a Camaro,” you state, catching Dean’s eye. He’s not looking at the far, he’s looking at you. You hesitate. “1963. It was my dads.” You try to force the smile away that’s creeping up on your face, the fond memories you shared between you and your late father during your childhood.

“Same as me,” Dean recalls, placing his hands in his pockets. “I mean, this was my dads, too. A stubborn son of a bitch.” He chuckles nervously, making eye contact with Sam who’s still sat in the passenger, ushering him to hurry up. “So anyway,” he pauses, “it’s probably a long shot, but-“

“You wanna take me to dinner?”

“Oh! I mean, I was gonna ask for your number, but…” Dean fumbles around in his pockets, attempting to find his phone, or even a pen and paper. “You can take that too.” Your eyes dangle over his large frame, taking in every inch of him. He’s got broad shoulders, the 2 piece suit making him look even more so. From the moment he walked up to you, his hair was gelled perfectly, but since standing out in the sun, his hair has gone soft. He runs his hand through his hair. You’ll admit, he’s pretty hot.

For some reason, your presence really intimidates Dean. It doesn’t seem like it’s his first rodeo with women, but something about him really makes you want to know more. You whip your phone out of your pocket. “What did you say your name was?”

“D-Dean.” He stutters, smiling at you sheepishly. You tap his name into your phone, then passing it over to him to input his number.

“Right. Well, Dean,” you unlock your car again, opening the drivers door. Dean steps back, allowing you to enter your car. He leans into the window, his face very close to yours. “Call me.”

You turn the engine over, the Camaro purring beneath you. It vibrates, making Dean gloat at how well kept it is. You take the car out of park, and slowly move off. “Y-yeah, I will.” Dean watches you drive off onto the long dirt road, unsure whether he’s admiring you or your car. He turns around, catching Sam’s eye. “Dammit, she’s hot!”

[mountaesan]

most ardently; h. taesan

pairing. bf!taesan x fem!reader genre. newly est. relationship au , fluff  synopsis. the arrival of an unexpected guest ruins your plans for your first valentine’s date but lucky for you, your sweet boyfriend is very accommodating word count. 1.6k warnings. reader is menstruating , hormonal , and emotional  playlist. the shade by rex orange county , i <3 u by boy pablo notes. happy belated valentine’s day ! the only red thing i got this year was my period . hence this fic LOLLL hope you enjoyy

You stared at your phone screen with a quiet sigh, your boyfriend’s latest text glowing back at you.  

my taesan <3: hi babyyyy my taesan <3: so excited for tonight!! my taesan <3: be sure to wear something warm it’s getting chillyyy my taesan <3: i’ll see you later bbyyyy i love you so much!

His enthusiasm broke your heart.  

Fingers hesitating over the keyboard, you finally mustered up the courage to type out a response. 

you: hi babee i’m really sorry but i think i have to raincheck today…  you: i’m not feeling too good TT  you: i’m really sorry 😭 you: i promise to make it up to you next time! i love you moreee 🤍

The moment the message sent, you let your phone slip from your grasp and melt further into your bed. The mattress swallowed you whole as you stared blankly at the ceiling, letting the weight of your own body press you deeper into the sheets. The pain was dull but constant, an ache in your lower abdomen that refused to subside, pulsing in time with the fatigue settling into your bones.  

Your period had come early that morning, utterly wrecking any plans you had for the day. The first day was always the worst—bloating, exhaustion, mood swings, cramps so unbearable you wanted to curl into yourself and never move again. It just had to start today of all days. Your first Valentine’s Day with Taesan. The day he had been planning for months, ever since the two of you had just started dating. You wanted it to be perfect.  

Now, instead of getting dressed up and meeting your boyfriend at the fancy restaurant he had painstakingly booked in advance, you were drowning in self-pity beneath your blankets, hugging a heating pad to your stomach and feeling like the absolute worst girlfriend in the world.  

A small part of you considered telling him the truth. But maybe because your relationship was still so new, you hesitated. It wasn’t like you were embarrassed about your period—God, no—but admitting that this was the reason you were canceling, especially when the night was supposed to be so special… it felt mortifying.   

Your thoughts swirled in self-reproach, so lost in your misery that you didn’t notice the flurry of new texts lighting up your phone screen.  

my taesan <3: oh noo 😭 my taesan <3: is everything okay? my taesan <3: baby? my taesan <3: honey plz respond i'm starting to get worried my taesan <3: i’m going over to your place right now

You barely had time to register his arrival before Taesan was there—standing in your doorway, completely out of breath. His oversized black leather jacket was slightly damp from the lingering rain outside, a simple white shirt visible underneath. His baggy jeans hung loosely on his frame, but the first thing you noticed wasn’t any of that.  

It was the massive bouquet of roses in his hand.  

Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest.  

Taesan barely spared a second before setting the flowers on your desk and rushing to your side, his brows furrowed with worry as he kneeled beside your bed. The moment his warm palm pressed against your forehead, you felt yourself crumble.  

“You don’t feel warm…” he murmured, frowning as he compared your temperature with his own. His hands were cupping your cheeks now, gently squeezing them together as his eyes scanned your face for any signs of sickness. “Have you eaten? Do you need medicine? Should I get you—”  

Your vision blurred.  

The guilt and gratitude crashed over you all at once, so overwhelming that the only thing you could do was burst into tears.  

Taesan’s eyes widened in panic. “Wait, baby—what’s wrong? Does it hurt? What happened?”  

You hiccupped between sobs, the emotions tangled up in your chest making it impossible to speak. Still, you managed to croak out, “M-my period started.”  

For a moment, he stilled. Then, his entire body sagged with relief. “Oh my God,” he exhaled, pulling you into his arms with a small laugh. “You scared the hell out of me. I thought you were seriously sick or something.”  

You were still crying, your face buried into his shirt, hands clutching onto his jacket like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart. “I’m sorry,” you sniffled. “I didn’t want to ruin our date—”  

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, his hands stroking the back of your head, soothing you in gentle circles. “Baby, look at me.”  

You pulled back slightly, puffy eyes meeting his concerned gaze.  

“You’re not ruining anything,” he said firmly. “You don’t have to be sorry for something you can’t control. I just wish you told me sooner instead of going through this alone.” His thumb wiped away a stray tear from your cheek. “I’m your boyfriend. You’re not supposed to hide when you’re in pain.”  

His words made your chest tighten with warmth.  

Sniffling, you nodded, and Taesan rewarded you with the softest smile, his dimple making a brief appearance.  

“Okay,” he hummed, wiping the last of your tears. “New plan.”  

You blinked. “New plan?”  

He nodded. “We stay in tonight.” He gestured dramatically with his hands. “We’ll watch ‘Pride & Prejudice’ and ‘Legally Blonde’ as much as you want, order all your favorite takeout, eat a bunch of heart-shaped desserts, and cuddle in bed for the rest of the night. Sound good?”  

You stared at him, the guilt slowly ebbing away, replaced with overwhelming affection.  

“Yeah,” you whispered. “That sounds perfect.”  

Taesan grinned, leaning in to press the softest kiss to your forehead. “Good. Now scoot over, baby. I’m cuddling you for the rest of the night until I smother you.”  

And with that, he pulled off his leather jacket and set it aside before climbing into bed beside you, pulling you into his warmth, his arms wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. 

You smiled, tucking your face into the crook of his neck.  

Taesan was warm. Too warm.

You groaned, shifting against his chest, your body sluggish from the heat pooling beneath the blankets. “Tae, I’m gonna make you hot,” you warned, voice laced with fatigue. “My body feels like a furnace right now.”

His arms only tightened around you in response, his fingers still laced between yours, tangled and unmoving. “Don’t care,” he murmured, lips pressing another soft kiss to your temple. You lost count of how many times he’d done that tonight, like he physically couldn’t keep himself from kissing you.

You huffed, attempting to shift away, but Taesan just whined dramatically, pulling you even closer, burying his face into your hair. “Nooo, stay,” he mumbled, voice muffled against your scalp. “You’re my personal teddy bear.”

You let out a soft laugh, exasperated but secretly loving the way he held onto you like you were something precious. “I’m literally a human space heater right now.”

He hummed, lips brushing against your hairline. “Mmm, my favorite.”

Your heart did a ridiculous flip.

He had you wrapped up in his arms, one of his legs thrown lazily over yours, anchoring you in place. Your fingers were still tangled together, his thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles against the back of your hand. Every few minutes, he would bring your hand to his lips, pressing featherlight kisses to each knuckle like it was second nature to him.

The TV cast a dim glow across the room, Pride and Prejudice playing quietly in the background. You had chosen the 2005 version, your favorite, because it was the perfect mix of romance and comfort. You expected Taesan to zone out within the first fifteen minutes, maybe even fall asleep, but to your surprise, he was fully engaged.

When Elizabeth Bennet shot one of her sarcastic remarks at Mr. Darcy, Taesan actually let out a laugh, a soft, amused chuckle that rumbled against your cheek where it rested against his chest.

“She’s so sassy,” he commented, grinning. “I like her.”

You turned your head to look at him, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, eyes still glued to the screen. “She’s feisty. I respect it.”

You shook your head in fond exasperation, nestling back into his embrace. “You better,” you teased. “She’s literally me.”

Taesan scoffed, pressing yet another kiss to your temple. “Please, you’re worse.”

You gasped, swatting at his chest, and he laughed, catching your hand with ease before intertwining your fingers once more.

But it wasn’t until Mr. Darcy’s iconic love confession that you realized just how much effort Taesan was putting into this.

The moment Darcy muttered “I love you… most ardently”, Taesan sucked in a sharp breath, gripping your hand tighter.

He turned to you, eyes wide, brows furrowed in concentration. “Wait, wait, this is it, right? This is the scene?”

You blinked at him, completely caught off guard. “…Yeah?”

“Oh my God,” he whispered, turning back to the screen, his expression filled with anticipation.

Your chest swelled with something warm and fond. Taesan wasn’t just tolerating this movie—he was fully invested, even though period dramas and slow-burn romances were not his thing. He was making an effort. For you.

This night was supposed to be for the both of you. Your first Valentine’s Day together. And yet, Taesan had somehow managed to make it all about you, making sure you were comfortable, happy, and safe in his arms.

You squeezed his hand, your heart aching in the sweetest way possible.

Taesan glanced down at you, sensing the shift in your mood. “What?” he murmured, voice soft.

You shook your head, burying your face into his chest. “Nothing,” you mumbled. “Just love you.”

His hold on you tightened instantly.

“Love you more,” he whispered, pressing the softest, most lingering kiss to your forehead. “Most ardently.”

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[l0v3gore]

Aftermath ☠︎︎

Yikes!!! - The link to the inspo of this oneshot 🥲

Feat.Katsuki Bakugo

Warnings:- Hangover, vomiting, near death experience and over all suffering.

Synopsis:- When you wake up with a sprained foot, a stomach that hates you, and a memory of a goldfish, you know it’s been an insane night. But things really hit rock bottom when you realize Katsuki Bakugo—the guy who literally saved your life from going splat run over by a lorry—has stuck around to witness your suffering firsthand. Between the projectile vomiting, the awkwardly holding a bucket, and Bakugo’s zero-tolerance for your stupidity, you’re left wondering if this is what true love looks like—or if you’re just lucky he hasn’t killed you yet. Either way, you’ve got a lot of apologizing to do... after you can stand up without throwing up again.

If you hadn't hit rock bottom already, you were definitely going there.

Your foot? Sprained. Your stomach? A warzone. And the last segments of your remaining ego and dignity were long gone after the first sip. So much for keeping up with that mysterious, nonchalant aura.

You didn't remember much of the night before—or maybe you were better off not trying to.

The stinging pain in your foot that slowly travelled up your back as you were practically grappling for your life in the middle of the road, the blinding lights that cut off your vision as the lorry preyed on your struggling form—Yikes!!!

Nevertheless, bad decisions were made, and here you were doubled over a bucket retching as your stomach revolted against you. Retching was a nice way to put it, but if we're being completely honest, it sounded like an exorcism was being performed, and in a way of its own, it was. Of course this was absolutely not left unheard by Katsuki as he approached you, mumbling curses left, right, and centre.

You barely lift your head. "Kats, I think I'm dying… --BLEGH"

He pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep exhale as he does, "Good."

You whimper, clutching the bucket as another wave of nausea hits you like a tonne of bricks. Katsuki, on the other hand, reluctantly crouches down beside you. His hand—warm, firm—rubs small circles against your back in a way that almost makes you feel human again.

"You're so fucking lucky I was there," he grumbles, but his words hold no malice, rather an undertone of worry.

The only response you had left in you was a mewl as you lurched forward once more, practically burying your face in the bucket as you held onto one of his arms to support your weakened, frail frame: "Please kill me."

He clenches his jaw. "You almost got flattened; wasn't that good enough, dumbass!?"

Your personal recollection of the night before was limited compared to Katsuki's; it was vaguely painted out in black and white, and his little remark rebooted your memory just enough to lift your heavy head and lock his eyes with yours.

"Oh." That was it; that was all you could muster.

"Oh?" He snaps. "Is that all you have to say??"

"...Thanks for saving me?"

He rolls his eyes, not saying much, as he presses a bottle of water into the palms of your hands. "Drink up. Slowly," he warned.

You sip at it gingerly, eyes fluttering shut as the cool, refreshing liquid cleanses the palate of your tongue, the lingering bitter taste instantly washed away in one go, and after a small, hollowing silence, he speaks up.

"You're a pain in the ass." A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips after he said that, his hand still on your back, soft and steady, holding you in place even as you slump over, exhausted and wrecked. You know he's not going anywhere, letting out a small hum in response, pausing a moment, "...I know..." You say, barely just above a whisper, as you let your body collapse against him, taking in all his warmth and comfort.

[honeynova]

nerdy!soobin would definitely put you in this predicament :)

pairing: college nerd!soobin x college reader

cws: 1.7k words, mostly fluff, study sessions with soobin!, slightly suggestive towards the middle & the end lol, soobin calls reader pet names ( lovey, love, baby, pretty girl ), he’s kinda strict w/ reader ( only cause he wants you to do well ).

a/n: heavily inspired by soobin’s 2024 dazed korea photoshoot (specifically the photo above) :)

… ꨄ

you were just munching on some of the chocolate covered pretzels you found in the junk food stash of the kitchen cabinet when you stopped altogether in your tracks once you saw your boyfriend.

you didn’t even realize when he got home since you were busy going through some study material and annotating notes for finals week, heavily engrossed on nothing but the thought of passing these last exams with flying colors.

maybe that’s the reason why you weren’t aware of his presence or the fact that he didn’t make it known. you know he could do this because he’s done it before, not wanting to interrupt your intense focus on studying.

because he knows the minute you know of his presence, you would want a 30 minute break that ends up being however long your night was until you both fall asleep into the next day.

you took a quick snack break but you didn’t think you would see him at all. has time really passed that quick?

upon seeing you as well, his eyes peel away from the tv screen to your face and immediately his lips widen into a soft smile.

“hey, pretty girl.” he mumbles loud enough to reach you from across the living room. “didn’t wanna interrupt your scholar activities.”

and after scanning his entire frame in a doubt take, you can say for once that you’re truly happy he decided to do that.

he would’ve definitely distracted you with this look he got going on and you might even combust because of the nonchalant vibe of his current position.

he looks good. great even.

the kind of good that your brain kinda of short circuits everytime you realize his existence.

there he laid in all his glory;

sprawled over your couch with a huge, dark blue university hoodie that looks great enough to steal and a white tee bunched up underneath, arms crossed over his stomach and hood over his fluffy black locks, comfortably tucked right underneath his jawline. he wore his usual straight khaki cargo pants, legs spread wide apart with one foot hanging off the edge of the couch.

what you couldn’t rip your eyes away from was his exposed abdomen, slightly revealed underneath the shirt and hoodie. it must’ve rode upwards from any movement before, but now you’re just ogling at how his features were accentuated perfectly by just something this natural yet particular.

something about your silence and straight stare made him move a bit and now you’re realizing the small grin mixing in with his smile, snapping yourself out from your thoughts by rapidly blinking your rounded eyes— as if that was going to do anything.

“hi, baby,” you spoke softly and slightly muffled with the pretzel in your mouth, trying so hard to keep your voice neutral as you pad closer towards him on the couch. his arms stood crossed over his chest as his eyes racked over your entire frame once you got closer, uncrossing only when you reached a distance enough for him to wrap a hand around your midriff.

his palm is searing hot against your bare skin- probably from being tucked into his body heat for long or probably because your overheating self in general.

“i’m almost done,” you murmur, feeling him rub the side of your waist in a gentle manner, something he does to soothe or comfort as if it was his first instinct. it’s your favorite combo; the gentle touches and his round eyes peering up at you through his messy bangs. “just taking a snack break..”

“yeah?” his low voice was just as soft as he looked, just as comforting yet heavy as his gaze. there’s something there in his dark irises, something twinkling as his long fingers curl around the dip of your waist. “and how’s that going for you, hm?”

he adjusts his head higher on the crook of the back cushion and arm rest to face you directly, waiting for his answer with a soft smile.

he must know what he’s doing to you.

the natural lighting that pours into your house and surrounds your boyfriend in this beautiful glow was definitely sent by the glowing gods exactly for him; shaping his chiseled jawline and facial features perfectly by shadowing his harsh lines and highlighting his soft plumped edges.

“uhmm…” you quickly seat yourself, which happened to be the space between his waist and the edge of the cushion, legs curling and tucking your knees into his body as he rests his arm over your pressed thighs underneath his armpit. “it’s going okay. i just have to study the muscles chapter for anatomy and then i should be done for today..”

you nod as you bite into another piece of the pretzel — to keep yourself from not losing it completely as you meet his gaze. the way he actually listens, paying full attention and even nodding softly after each sentence..

“oh? sounds like you’ve gotten far,” he hums. “i’m very proud of you, lovey.” his hand runs down the side of your upper thigh out of comfort and affection, your other hand falling on top of his.

he always has to be touching you somehow. to show his love language in some way.

“mhmm, thank you, soobie.” you murmur with a pause, before you offer him a pretzel too. he nods and opens his pouty lips for you to feed it to him, letting his tongue engulf the treat before he closed his mouth.

“mmnn, they’re good..” he spoke in between chews, shifting to rest his other arm behind his head. the movement makes his shirt and hoodie tug up higher and you might just be going more insane.

He kept his eyes on you the entire time, observing your movements and mannerisms that began to slacken. He assessed how you snuggled closer to the couch to prevent yourself from falling off.

or maybe cause he knows you’re starting to fall prey to your procrastination and wanting more of his warmth like always. this is how it always goes.

at least that’s what he thinks; he doesn’t know that you’re busy shifting and squirming closer because of your desire to quell the familiar warmth that rises from deep within your body upon seeing him.

this natural, this casual, all for you and waiting for you.

you stay in silence, letting your eyes trail over his outfit, admiring his beauty.

“baby,” his tone suggests that he knows what you’re doing, set as a gentle warning as his hand reaches over the slightest to pat your rounded butt. “cmon, go do your last thirty minutes and then we can cuddle. promise.”

“but-“ you already begin to whine in defense and in attempt on having him give in. nerdy soobin never lets you miss any studying because he knows how important it is.

“go. it’s not like i’m going anywhere,” he drawls out in such a lazy tone, folded arm behind his head shifting as he gets more comfortable on the couch. “i’ll be right here when you come back.”

something in you wants to just tell him how you truly feel, why you’ve been ogling him for so long but another thing lets you know that he knows why as well. the tiny grin smile on his lips, the narrowed look on his face, the slightly raised eyebrows — it all gives off that drowsy look he’s portraying, but with glint of mischief.

“soobie,” a soft whine falls from your pout, hand reaching up to tug on his hoodie strings and fingers twirling the material. “i’m tired..” you tried, you really did.

he knew you were tired; you must’ve started since early because of how you look. you didn’t even try slipping off your bedtime clothes before you got to work, his smile widening as he took the beauty in front of him.

“i know baby, but another 30 minutes wouldn’t hurt after studying all evening.” he supplies, still patting your butt lightly. “c’mon, think of me as your good reward for being a great scholar, yeah?”

“but what if i want my good reward now?” it might be a bit cheesy and even soobin knows it, his bunny nose scrunching in slight digust. once you push and shove him, his grimace turns into a bright smile as he giggles, holding your hands away from hitting him. “soobin…”

“noooo,” he drawls out in a rasp, his fluffy hair falling over his eyes as he shakes you from his hold on your hands. “come back after your thirty, you thirsty animal.”

okay, so he did know.

“but i only want cuddles-“

“mhm, yeah. you don’t think i can tell the differences of what faces means what already?” he supplies, twisting his neck to eye you once again. he’s so sassy.

there’s no point in denying it either.

“okay, but you expected me to act this way so i don’t wanna hear it..” you huff, rolling your eyes as your lower lip curls further down once he pulled you closer to lean over his stomach. “you knew what you were doing putting this on.”

“what, my regular clothes?” he scoffs back in an incredulous tone, hands letting go of yours to wrap around your body and pull you closer. “you shouldn’t be talking?”

now it’s your turn to squint your eyes at him, highly confused about his comment and he sees this, but doesn’t add on. instead, he pulls away abruptly and pushes you into a standing position despite your loud whines.

“go, i won’t say it again,” he softly reprimands, chuckling at the way you slouch your posture and turning you away from him. “i’ll be waiting here for you, like a good boy..”

he gives your butt one last pat before you’re huffing. he hums, snacking on the last pretzel you gave him and watching you trudge back.

“i might give you more than just cuddles if you study for an hour..” he finally calls out, and you’re immediately running back to your room to do exactly that.

curse him. you can hear him laughing at the sound of you running.

“have fun!!”

————- ꨄ

a/n: there’s a part 2 to this post … lmk if you want me to post it :) tehhehehhehhhhhh

[hrizantemy]

Comparing evil people like Amarantha, King Hybern and his whole court, Rhysand and all of his IC especially their high lady,(who I feel definitely has turned evil or really bad). Do you think Beron and all of his sons are evil? Do you think some of them are acting and playing the part? Or do you think they all have evil in them from their upbringing of being Beron sons? Myself I can’t help but see it as they are evil-ish, but not the whole court and I even think Beron isn’t evil he just sucks as a husband and father. Then again depending on the reader, not everyone wants to be good and just choose to be evil for different reasons whether it be validated or not. This has been on my mind for a long time now, because I want to know more about the other courts, who is actually good? Who is actually evil? Who is morally grey? We know nothing else of other courts and the HL’s everything is NC and it’s annoying that they have 3 books on them and nothing on any other court, to give us something to know about them. About their true feelings on the human race, about the NC and their sneaky conniving ways!! I just want to pick the mind of other people on these topics.

This is such a great question because, honestly, the way the courts are written leaves so much unanswered—especially in terms of morality, politics, and the actual complexity of characters outside the Night Court. The books spend so much time making the Night Court look like the only progressive place, but at the same time, we’re given very little real insight into how the other courts function beyond surface-level stereotypes.

Are Beron and His Sons Truly Evil?

I don’t think it’s as black and white as “they’re all evil,” but I also don’t think they’re all just playing a part. Beron himself is clearly an abusive, cruel, power-hungry ruler, but does that automatically mean his entire court is evil? No. Does it mean all of his sons are? Not necessarily.

• Beron – I wouldn’t say he’s “evil” in the way that Amarantha or Hybern are. He’s not out here committing mass genocide or enslaving entire courts, but he is a ruthless and abusive ruler. He is clearly manipulative and enjoys exerting control over his family. However, I don’t think he’s interested in outright destruction or chaos—his goal is power and maintaining his rule. That makes him cruel, oppressive, and controlling, but not necessarily a mustache-twirling villain. If anything, he reminds me more of the classic corrupt politician—someone who values power and control over morality but isn’t inherently sadistic the way Amarantha was.

• Eris – Now this is where things get interesting. Eris is a wild card in all of this because we know he’s been playing the long game for a very long time. He’s been framed as cruel and conniving, but there have been multiple hints that he’s not as bad as he seems.

• He let Lucien go instead of killing him, despite the fact that Lucien was a threat to his standing in the family.

• He told Feyre and company that they have no idea what he’s had to do to survive.

• He clearly hates his father, which means that a lot of his actions could be self-preservation rather than outright malice.

• I think he’s the closest in power after Beron and most likely the next heir and is scheming against his father, which suggests that at least some people in Autumn are willing to support him.

Eris might be morally gray, but I don’t think he’s outright evil. He plays a role because he has to—because in the Autumn Court, weakness is fatal. He’s an opportunist, yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s without a moral code. He clearly has some sense of honor, even if it’s buried under layers of self-preservation and political maneuvering.

• Lucien – Easily the most morally good of the brothers (at least from what we’ve seen). He’s compassionate, loyal, and genuinely tries to do the right thing. But what’s interesting is that he survived Beron’s court for centuries without being killed, which suggests that he was either really good at staying out of trouble or that his brothers weren’t as eager to kill him as people assume. If Beron’s sons were all pure evil, Lucien probably wouldn’t have made it out alive.

• The Other Brothers – We don’t know much about them, but they seem to lean more toward Beron’s side of things. That said, I think it’s possible that some of them are just going along with the system rather than actually believing in it. It’s a brutal court, and not everyone has the luxury of open defiance.

The Problem with How the Other Courts Are Written

One of the most frustrating things about ACOTAR is that we barely know anything about the other courts. Everything is so Night Court-centric that we never get a truly unbiased look at how the others function. The only information we get is from Rhysand, Feyre, and the IC—who, let’s be honest, are not reliable narrators.

For example:

• Day Court – We know Helion is powerful and progressive, but what does his court actually look like? How do his people live? We’re barely told anything.

• Winter Court – We know they’re supposed to be noble and that Kallias loves his people, but beyond that? Nothing. How do they govern? What are their struggles?

• Autumn Court – We only ever see it through Lucien’s trauma and Eris’s politics, but there are still regular citizens living there. Are they all suffering? Are they all cruel? Or is the court only as bad as its leadership?

It’s incredibly frustrating that five books in, we still don’t have a real understanding of the other courts. Instead, we’re fed this one-sided narrative where the Night Court is somehow the only place with a functional society and everyone else is either “backward,” “corrupt,” or “stupid.”

Who Is Actually Good? Who Is Actually Evil? Who Is Morally Gray?

If we step back from the Night Court propaganda, I think it’s fair to say:

• Amarantha & Hybern → Truly evil. They engaged in mass slaughter, enslavement, torture, and war with zero remorse.

• Rhys & The IC → Morally gray at best, hypocritical at worst. They act like they’re the good guys, but they’ve done questionable, manipulative, and even cruel things to get what they want.

• Beron & His Sons → Somewhere between evil and morally gray. Beron is cruel, but we don’t know if he’s pure evil or just a ruthless politician. Eris is likely gray, and Lucien is actually good.

• Tamlin → Not evil, just deeply flawed and traumatized. He has done bad things, but he’s also been one of the most realistically written characters in terms of regret and guilt.

• Helion, Kallias, and Tarquin → Seem good, but we don’t know enough about them to say for sure.

Final Thoughts

I think the biggest problem is that ACOTAR presents morality in a very biased way. We’re expected to believe that the Night Court is the only place with real progress, the only court worth rooting for, while the others are either evil or irrelevant. But that’s just not good worldbuilding. There’s so much potential for complexity in the other courts, but we don’t get to see it because everything is filtered through Rhysand’s perspective.

So are Beron and his sons evil? Some, maybe. Others, probably not. But the fact that we’re never given the chance to explore that nuance is what’s really frustrating. And until the books actually give us more about the other courts, we’ll just be stuck with this one-sided view that makes the Night Court look like the center of the universe—which, frankly, is getting really old.

[actualbird]

// cn server spoilers, main story 15 pv

heLLO this is the coolest frigging main story pv trailer OF THEM ALL????? the art style is so STRIKING AND PERFECT and what what wHAT THAT LAST FRAME?? JEROME?????????? AAAAAAAA

[lunasilvis]

Some shots of today 📸

[screampied]

‘ MAKE ME JUNO! 𝜗𝜚

𓉸ྀི sum. when he’s just so fine that you’d let him make you juno . . you know. toji, sukuna, choso, geto, gojo.

warnings. fem! reader, unprotected, baby fever, breedīng kinks, wife! reader, talks of pregnancy, size kinks, manhandling, praise, overstim, toy usage, bōob fondling, impact play, spīt, true form! sukuna, tummy bulges, multiple rounds, squīrting, degredation, talking through it.

➤ kinktober mlist.

☠︎ SUGURU GETO.

“a baby, huh?” geto whispers as he allows his dark irises to maunder down your body. even as you’re dumbed down from his dick, you looked so effortlessly pretty – sprawled all out on the velvet–red sheets and folded out up like a chair. geto’s warm body was so close up against yours while his weight’s just hovering over your frame. as his cock’s stilled tucked inside, he pants heavily, pausing his rigid thrusts. you let off a soft whimper as your body acclimatizes against the lewd angle—he’s got you in a mating press and you’ve never felt more stuffed. with shallow airy breaths, geto licks a long stripe near your neck. “ ‘s that what you really want, sweetheart? a pretty round tummy jus’ for me to see?”

gazing into his dark half-open eyes, your weak arms sling over his tense shoulders. “y- yes, gimme a baby sugu,” and he leans into your soft touch once he sees you twirling a long strand of his black hair around your finger. with an impish yet needy expression, you lean into his ear, whispering, “make me a mommy, suguru. please.”

and that’s all he needed to hear — because within seconds, he’s got you flipped over, face smushed into the pillows and ass right perked up . . just for him.

“alright, princess. don’t say i didn’t warn ya, heh.”

whenever geto’s got you in doggystyle—you just knew you were gonna be stuffed full. to the brim, and saying that his hips were mean and ruthless was nothing more than an understatement. each smack and whack against both pounds of skin rings through your ears as your cheek shoves itself into the plush covered pillows. “fuh—fuck!” you’d squeal, gasping at the curve of his cock and how it punctuate every thrust. with ease, he’s just rummaging through your cunt while his hilt presses up against your ass.

wanton whimpers glissade past your glossed lips as he’s got a big hand clasping onto your right ass cheek, another on your rickety unsteady hip. back and forth, back and forth—he’s reeling you back into him while your moans ring across the paper thin walls. “that’s it pretty girl. hng, take it,” he huffs in a raspy tone, feeling the hard mighty clashes of both hips slam into each other at full speed. a collision, he’s plummeting his cock into you so deep that your knees were already starting to buckle. a hand wraps around your neck, giving you a soft teasing pull backwards. “fuck, drenchin’ me so good. my own personal waterpark.”

“sugu—suguruuu,” you whine in broken sobs, drooling from the thick stretch of his cock. geto’s flushed crown repeatedly jackhammers itself against your precious g-spot. every few seconds, you’re letting off cute cacophonies of ‘ahhh’s’ and ‘oooh’s’ whilst you’re trying to keep up with his ravaging pace. geto grunts, feeling you soak around him as a lightning shaped vein that runs down his weighty shaft tickles you from the inside. “fuuuck, fuck me,” and you sound like a broken record.

“less talkin’ more hah.. taking,” and you whimper the second his hand swats against your ass. geto’s dick massages your walls so throughly that it’s got your eyes flickering backward within an instant. as he’s seducing you with just his tip that’s curling figure eights inside and out of your pussy — you’re seeing nothing but white, nearly choking on your own drool. “much better,” he grunts, reeling you further back into his honed hips. “gonna make you the prettiest mommy for me, sweet girl. all mine, all. fuckin’.. mine.”

each thrust makes you yelp out a sweet moan. every hurried thrust from geto was so so sloppy that you could almost taste each mouth-watering hit that mercilessly smacks against your core..

geto’s still got two callused hands attached to both sides of your waist as he’s pumping you full of cock. the bending hook of his crownhead splits inside of you and you’re whimpering, swallowing your pity while clinging onto the balled up bedsheets. “cum, ngh, cum inside, sugu.”

“quiet, baby. you’ll get your turn to talk,” he purrs in a low voice, spanking your ass for the nth time. you get the memo, and a moan shortly follows once your cunt loudly squelches out a cute sloppy sentence of its own. geto groans, feeling himself leisurely going toward inevitable rapture. it’s a sensitive sting that pulses straight down his thighs but he can’t stop. not when you’re clinging around his cock this good. “hah, fuck. leave it to y’r pussy to talk back when i tell you to be quiet, sweetheart,” he snickers, and you moan once he drags a thumb down your sobbing glossed slit. so drenched—and not before long, geto’s cumming too .. hard.

thick goopy ropes spray inside of you, shooting deep into your womb and it’s hot. your legs can’t help but shudder as you’re lazily arched over, feeling the stings still linger against your ass even after he’s caressing a palm over your bare skin.

“f.. fuck,” you whine out, feeling your hips grind back into him while he’s slowing down. geto groans, and it’s so much—satiny remnants of sleek cum dribble out of your pudgy folds as he’s plugging you in and he can’t help but stare. such a pretty sight. but as you’re panting, trying to catch your breath, geto watches as you try to reach down between your legs.

as a hand creeps down between your thighs, you moan, trying to touch the drooling mess that’s oozing between your own sticky legs—all until your hand’s met with a rude ‘smack!’ that snatches out a sweet surprised mewl from you.

“ah, ah, girl,” geto tsks, shaking his head as a cunning grin spreads against his lips. as sweat pours down each side of his face, he pushes you further into the velveteen-covered pillows. “no touchin’ my pussy. you should know that by now,” and you could still feel him dumping such wads of cum inside of you. the thought of carrying geto’s baby made you throb—and you only wanted more by the second. he leans all the way in, making his pelvis glue against yours before he softly nips near your neck.

“ ‘m not done though, princess,” he huffs and you gasp once he flips you over, gazing at the masses of cum that drizzles down the crevices of your thighs. “still got so much more love to give,” and he leans in to playfully bite your lip. “sloppy girl.”

☠︎ TOJI FUSHIGURO.

“y’er baby fever’s actin’ up again, isn’t it, babygirl,” toji snickers, staring at your bare perked ass.

you’re still panting heavily—feeling the sticky mess dribble down between the corners of your thighs. he’d just came so much inside, and his favorite thing to do afterwards was to admire his handiwork. with a sly grin indenting across his scarred lips, he smears a thumb down your weeping cunt. “got some nerve askin’ for another baby,” and you moan once he gives your tender clit a light pinch. “heh, not that i’d mind..”

with dark bangs running down his eyes, he glances at your sopping cunt that’s continue to drip out remnants of his feverish hot cum. wads of it – velvety ribbons pour out of you and all you do is just sit there with that same dick-drunk expression, trying to chase after your own breaths. “f.. fuck,” you moan out, whimpering the second you feel his thick cock gradually pull its way out of you. once his reddened tip exits out of your pussy with a loud sloppy ‘pop’, you feel that familiar seizing in your stomach starting to commence.

“whaaat a fuckin’ mess,” he gruffs, and within a second, toji’s got you turned over. toji always treated you like a doll in bed – literally. to be more specific, a rag doll. he’d toss and turn you all around, fucking you in any and every position possible if it meant filling you up with ropes ‘n ropes of his hot sticky cum. as he starts to realign himself again, he wraps a hand around his hardened twitching shaft, pumping it a few times. a long vein prods against his sweaty palm and he groans, watching you lie there so pretty, oozing out his cum with your legs sprawled open. “fuck, touch y’rself for me, baby girl. stick those cute fingers inside.”

“but—”

“stick ‘em in,” he repeats, playfully smacking his tip against your soddened folds. you whimper, feeling his fat cock graze against your tender flesh. you wanted him to finish fucking you, and toji always did this—teasing you randomly, getting off to that little pout that forms across your lips and the whine that drags out your throat whenever you don’t get your way. he presses his perfectly chiseled chest against yours before whispering hoarsely. “tch. can’t hear all of a sudden, mama? i gotta do it for you?”

“want your cock, not my fingers,” you chastise in a cute whine, leaning in to press a wet kiss against his scarred lips. toji darkly chortles, grabbing your wrist and making you feel against your sopping cunt anyway. “ngh, fuck toji,” you moan, shuddering as he guides your own fingers against your clit that’s spitting out such satiny volumes of cum. you’re lying in a puddle of your own mess, feeling his thick fingers glide down against yours. “mmh, touch me more, toji.”

with an eye roll, he slowly pins your wrists over your head, inching his head closer toward your lips. verdant eyes meet yours and he scoffs.

“shouldn’t do shit,” and he cockily hums, seeing your lips twitch once he’s only millimeters apart from shoving his tongue down your throat. you could smell the malt of beer on his breath. you whine, thinking he was about to kiss you but instead, he laughs right against your lips. “baby, you told me ‘ta give you a baby. now y’r just bein’ greedy.”

and as he continues to rub his leaky tip against your slit that’s overflowed with piles of his hot cum, he presses a kiss toward the corner of your lips. “heh, oh my. so damn cute when my wife’s angry,” he pokes fun at the pout that’s marinating against your features.

despite how you were filled to the very brim with such filthy ropes of cum—you were still aching for him to finish but toji just had to continue to be a mere tease. with a wry expression, he finally prepares himself to go back in before speaking in a husky tone. “mhm, fine,” and he rubs a big hand over your tummy, hearing you softly moan once he uses a palm to press down just a bit.

“let’s get this pretty tummy nice ‘n round again, yeah?”

☠︎ SATORU GOJO.

“oh… oh,” satoru lets off a sheepish chortle, cupping a fat piece of your ass with the palm of his hand. “you’re serious, angel?”

“yeah,” you whine, snaking your legs around his slim waist. satoru’s staring at you with wide cerulean eyes, a curving slick grin forming against his lips. he’d just got back from jujutsu tech—and he said he needed a long hot shower after dealing with tiresome enemies all day but you couldn’t wait – you needed him. you practically pounced on him the second he walked through the door, not that he even minded. satoru groans as his hardened cock digs such fat inches inside of your clingy stretchy cunt as he stills his weight. “please, ‘toru,” a soft babbling whimper leaves from your lips, and you grab his hand, making him tender rubs circle against your bare tummy. “i want a baby, now.”

with a cheeky chortle, he plants a kiss against your pouty twitching lips. “like .. now now?” and he watches as your pout grows. an almost scowl and it’s just adorable—he was always one to joke with you, even while being in between your legs. “heh, alright sweet thing. i gotcha, let’s give you that baby, huh?”

with half-lidded eyes, you watch as satoru picks up the active vibrating wand from before that was rubbing up against your sopping cunt just a few seconds ago. with ease, he’s coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you, relishing in the sloshing sounds of your pussy from each individual thrust.

“ngh, c’mon baby, want ya ‘ta get nice ‘n soaked for me,” he purrs, and as he’s still inside, gradually moving the wand up and down your sopping entrance—a milky dried up ring coated around his hefty base. you’re sticking against him so good, lathering his base with your syrupy sap before he groans. “c’mon, let me here ya.”

“sato—”

“not you, silly,” he gently flicks your forehead, guiding the rubber tip further up against the top part of your cunt. its gyrating vibrations were enough to almost cause your legs to collapse. he’s thick, stuffing you again and again with constant sloppy inches until the skin slapping against both bodies gives you whiplash—again. “i was talkin’ to my other pretty girl,” and as his crystalline-colored eyes flicker further down towards your plugged dampened entrance, he swipes a thumb down your fluttering clit. a ‘pop’ leaves out of you once he slams his hips right into you, causing you to loudly squelch, soaking his entire dick in the princess. “fuck yeah, i know, i hear you,” he grunts, feeling his shaft twitching inside of you just from hearing how wet you were. satoru’s eyes still fixate at your pussy before he gives it a playful smack. “isn’t that right, princess?”

you moan—throbbing even quicker as his eyes were solely focused on your cunt, not you. like always, it caught his attention and he continues to rub the toy up and down your plushy folds, ogling as your legs shake and writhe underneath him. “toru, fuck,” you squeak, feeling the bed rigorously shake underneath you both. you wouldn’t be surprised if the hinges suddenly snapped, calling its quits. “ ‘m gonna cum,” and your voice was quiet. slowly but surely—he’s molding a little bulge from the size of his cock as he’s plummeting you deep, driving in and out and showing no signs of running out of fuel. “fuuuck!”

“i know, i know,” and his body’s so hot as it presses into you. his heat makes you hot, and you run a hand down his clenched abs, rocking into him at a much more quickened pace. raucous groans and moans fill the room as his sweat sticks against your bare skin. as satoru’s rutting into you, soft whines leaving from his lips whilst the toy hidden between your jerking legs buzzes even louder. “hng, me too. ‘m gonna give you such a good fill, baby,” but as he watches your jaw slowly sag open, he gives you a hot open-mouthed kiss. it’s sloppy, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth as his tongue tries to twist around yours. breathlessly, he’d pull away, licking near the bottom of your chin. “but you’d like that, huh? you’d like walkin’ around bein’ my pretty pregnant wife, yeah?”

“y- yesss,” you hiss, dragging out your words as his crazed tip whacks itself against your sensitive spot. again, again, and again—he’s hitting against that same spot as if it were a target. bullseye every time, and satoru gojo never ever misses. his frantic hits against your core causes your toes to curl and your back to arch even further as you’re slowly being brought closer to your orgasmic, teetering edge. “ ‘m cumming, cumming.”

once your release comes—it felt like heaven. you fall back as he’s still on top of you, trailing a slick tongue down your neck as you’re coming undone. you whine loudly and it’s an almost scream that strains your chords as his dick pulses inside of your gummy walls. “fuckin’ shit,” satoru sucks his teeth, and he finishes right with you. you’re staring at him with murky dilated pupils, clinging onto his pale shoulders right as he suddenly grows limp. “fuck,” and he grows quiet, hearing the filthy sounds of his own cum trickle its way inside of you. a lot dribbles in within a matter of seconds—reaching near the barrier of your womb with just a few sprays and you’ve never felt more full ‘n hot inside. “that’s it, wifey. take it, saved all of this j.. just for you, shit.”

loads of his cum swash around inside of your convulsing cunt as he then removed the toy from between your thighs, lying on top of you. white strands glisten against his forehead, his sweat being practically adhesive, satoru was panting just as much as you, and he leans against your chest, giving your breasts individual kisses. “s- satoru,” you whine, feeling his bucked hips give you those weak finalized thrusts. a lot spills out of you, racing down your thighs and you nibble underneath his lip. “fuck, ‘m so full.”

“bet you are,” he replies, running a clawing hand through his hair as he pivots his hips forward just a bit for the last time. you feel the extending stretch of his cock grow inside of you—and it’s enough to make your mouth water. satoru’s got heart eyes forming the more he stares at your fucked out state, and he cups your cheek. “h- heh, we should start thinkin’ of names,” and you moan once he pulls out, swiping his fat thumb against your sopping running cunt that’s oozing with his cum. “mommy..”

☠︎ CHOSO KAMO.

the minute you whine out those words to choso, ‘i want a baby,’ his brain would literally short circuit. choso’s always had a major breeding kink, and so did you.

emphasis on major – all he ever wanted to do was to see his pretty girl with a pretty round tummy. the image of it gnawed away at his thoughts and once you finally ask him to give you a baby, he nearly loses it.

“ ‘m gonna .. give you more than one,” he huffs in frantic breaths, both arms pinned at either sides of you. choso’s staring at you with wide carnal eyes, a flushed face, and twitching hot ears. “we’re gonna have so much,” he grunts, buried balls deep inside of you. your legs lock around his waist as he’s pounding you into the mattress—although, choso’s strokes was romantically slow.

he’s hitting you deep each time, and it makes you rub your ankle down his back. a slow moving pattern that makes him groan. “one isn’t enough, n- no,” he rambles, trailing his hands toward your bouncing tits. choso can’t help but imagine how full they’d get - nipples all swollen, the thought alone makes him grunt. “you—we need at least four, y- yeah. four sounds ‘bout right,” and as he’s making his cock french kiss against your throbbing nub, you let off a shrilling moan. choso captures your lips in a needy kiss as your body rocks against him. “you’re gonna make me a daddy, y’know that?”

“i.. i know, baby,” you moan, feeling his loose black strands stick against your forehead. he’s so close—choso’s hips become sloppy within seconds as he’s still got your breasts cupped in his hands. if it was anything choso would fail to do, it would be at keeping his hands to himself. he was madly in love with you, and not just you but your body also.

his favorite body part had to be your tits—he loved sucking on them, gently nibbling against your nipple, or even just resting his head against them. so soft, you were like his own personal pillow. as he’d still relentlessly giving you such thick inches of cock, choso sucks his teeth, feeling your cunt freely glue and constrict around his length. “mmf. that spot, ‘cho,” you whine, hauling your arms over his tense shoulders. “fuck, right there, baby. there.”

“y- yeah?” he moans, your own sweet noises making his dick continue to twitch further inside of you. choso’s kneading your walls as you clamp down on him—making his jaw clench tight. he looks so pretty, and he’s squeezing his eyes shut from how good you feel around him. your hips were just deadly—and the more you pictured about starting a family with choso, the more you throbbed against his fat length. choso huffs, pressing a sloppy kiss near the corner of your mouth—sadly missing your lips from just a few inches.

“hah, gonna be so pretty ‘n plump for me,” and once his tip thrashes against your g-spot, he whines against your neck. “ngh, i’d give you the world if i could. but before that— ‘m gonna give you what you want.. promise.”

choso whimpers, hiding his head between your chest — stuffing his face into your breasts. you giggle as his thrusts start to slow, that throbbing vein that steadily repeats to run down the far left side of his cock pulsating quicker. “ ‘s okay, choso, you can cum. give m- me a baby,” you whisper, feeling him latch his mouth over your perked nipples. every few seconds it pops out of his mouth due to the unsteady movements of both bodies and he pours. choso groans with a growing pout, cupping each tit in your mouth. by now, he’s humping into you as tepid lips of his hold each nipple of yours hostage. his teeth softly graze against your skin and you whimper, feeling your stomach seize. “f- fuck.”

and he’s just so into it that he ends up cumming right as he’s sucking on your breasts. a low gruttural groan comes from him as he starts to flood your womb as both hips continue to clash. choso shudders at the feeling of his orgasmic release—his tip’s a blushing red as his eyes become droopy, whining out a sweet, “f.. fuuuuck.”

the base of his cock’s swollen as it stays idle, spraying balmy ropes into your core. choso’s still sucking on each of your tits, moaning as your fingers tangle within his sable strands and he grunts. “ ‘m cummin’ so much baby, so much for you,” and as you watch his dark brows crease into a furrow, you feel the pit of your tummy coil.

it’s a feeling that tickles inside of you—and he’s buried so deep, overwhelming your cunt with such slimy ropes that end up tearing down your folds. “god,” he moans, and once he removes his wet lips from your nipple, it sounds off a loud ‘pop.’ strings of his saliva follow from your skin and he laps it up, leaning in to give you a quick kiss. “mine,” and choso can’t help but lean into your touch once you cup his face with two shaky hands.

“yours,” you repeat, returning the kiss as your legs trap around his waist. slowly, he’s still rocking into you as his bulbous tip remains to emit out velvety ribbons inside of your pussy. you smell just like choso—his sweet woody smell that clouds your brain, making you throb for even more of him. “all yours, choso.”

with a hand sliding down your chest, past the valley that reaches down to your tummy—he pauses, placing his palm on your stomach. choso whimpers against your lips, giving you one last chaste kiss - and this time, it’s much more passionate and romantic. “this is mine too,” he purrs lowly, gingerly pressing down on your stomach. “all mine.”

☠︎ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

“tsk. you really shouldn’t say such things,” sukuna grunts, slouching back against his throne. all arms of his wrap around your waist — gazing openly as you’re taking in his thick cock, his second would just be barely brushing up against the valley that runs down your ass. you whimper at his grasp, trying to writhe your hips further into him and you’re met with cold, crimson eyes and a wolffish grin. “look at me in the eyes ‘n repeat to me what you said, woman,” and with a hand gripping your chin, he softly caresses your bottom lip with his sable-colored claw. “speak.”

“i— i need you to get me pregnant, ‘kuna,” you quietly murmur, leaning into his touch.

he’s so thick, you felt his heavy sack rest underneath you as you straddled his lap, the fabric of his cottony kimono brushing against your skin. “you ‘want’? rephrase that, little girl,” and you could already feel the inside of your mouth starting to salivate at just how good he’s stretching you open. you’re gaping—shamefully listening to the sounds of your own cunt’s sloshing squelches ring through the soundproof walls of his domain. sukuna’s giving you a look that makes you pulsate—and he snickers, watching you struggle to maintain direct eye contact. “go on, use those big girl words. jus’ like i taught ya.”

“p.. please,” you moan, feeling his tip curl its way through your gummy walls. sukuna was right at his peak, just a bit of pressure and he’d be filling you up . . but, he wanted to hear those polite words leave from your lips first. as he sits on his throne with that same smug grin, he brings a hand to cling onto your waist. “cum inside, ‘kuna. impregnate me—give me a baby, sukuna.”

grunting once he feels you sitting up, you’re gushing a bit down his length and he feels the slick wetness soak around his hefty length. your lap creates an invisible translucent ring that glistens around his entire base. sukuna rubs a few callused fingers against your wailing pussy before snickering. “keh. foolish woman,” and you whine once he lifts you up with his dick still buried inside. sukuna’s shoved deep inside, churning up your insides wholly and it makes your lips part into a ‘o’. the stretch was loud—so loud that each time he expands through your walls, the squelches that leave from your cunt becomes salaciously repetitive. as the demon’s wearing you out, stretching you thin—pink brows of his furrow in pleasure as his head tilts back. “fuck, better take it then. ‘m gonna give you an extra fill this time.”

your hips were barely moving but still, you couldn’t help but slowly rock against his body. all four arms of his precariously grab and paw at your body, sending you chills at something as simple as his touch. as sukuna’s dick resumes to rummage through your cunt as if it’s searching through every sopping orifice, you feel one of his hands grab at a nice piece of your ass.

“f- fuck, ‘m gonna cum, ‘kuna,” you whine, the snugness of his dick between your walls creating a tender fluttering feeling deep in the pits of your tummy. he’s so deep, and the more you thought about baring his offspring makes you ache and yearn for more. “c.. cumming.”

your orgasm slams into like a truck—it’s unpredictable and at full speed. sukuna growls against your ear, and he ends up finishing at the same time as you. the fervor was almost too much to bare, and he groans at the way your ass sloppily jerks forward into him. steadily, his jutting dick stills inside of you as it’s spraying out thin ribbons of cum – and it’s a lot. as you’re straddling the curse, he digs his claws into your ass, feeling your slobbering-filled cunt clench around him.

“hng, curses,” he grunts lowly, his cock gradually turning flaccid inside of you. it starts to spill down your thighs as runny globs race down the crevices of your legs. you end up moaning, pressing a sloppy kiss against his lips. sukuna’s blood-red eyes roll back but he returns the gesture, allowing you to dip your tongue inside, whimpering inside of his mouth. “horny woman. you must be ovulating again,” he says between kisses, giving your ass one mean smack. the recoil makes him smirk — and you feel the sly crease of his lips against your own form into a wicked smile.

as you remain on his lap, your knees buckle and you’re still feeling sensitive. your thighs shook as you felt tender between your legs. “mmh,” you deepen the kiss, panting heavily against his own frigid breath that sets against your tongue. sukuna holds you close, still feeling spurts of his cum fill into you, all to the brim. “m.. more, ‘kuna,” you whine, breaking away briefly. strands of saliva depart as he stares at you, scoffing as you start to bounce against his lap again. “ ‘s not enough.”

“ ‘not enough,’ she says, tch. never fuckin’ satisfied,” he shakes his head with a coy grin. sukuna’s vermillion eyes flicker down toward your hand that’s reaching for his second cock that’s stacked behind the main one in front. he grunts lowly, and then before he knows it, he’s lightly pushed back against the center of his throne by you. “ughh,” sukuna leans back, looking up at you. “and what’s this?” he stares at you slowly getting up, aligning both of his dicks against your slick oozing entrances. “ah, one isn’t enough, is it greedy girl? you just wanted ‘ta be double stuffed today. ‘s that it?

tempestuously as his front cock continues to disappear inside of your folds—sukuna grunts once you push him back against the cushiony pillow. “eh. the nerve, little one,” and with a wily grin, he watches you align yourself with both leaky cocks. each soddened entrance soaks against your entrances with your slick and you moan, slinging an arm around his broad neck. “fuckin’ brat, mhm.”

as you’re barely even moving a few inches, sukuna snarls loudly the second his flushed tip thrashes by your hole. he’s sensitive, and despite his cocky words he ends up cumming not even a few moments later. sweaty viscous limbs glissade against one another as you gradually grind your hips into him. “f- fuck,” you whine, grabbing a piece of your own ass as you glance down to view the mess. he sprays in a big monstrous load, and it comes out in pretty thick ribbons. when it came to sukuna—he always came a lot, and as your cunt’s twitching around him, he feels your legs nearly giving out. “ ‘s much, ‘kuna.”

“you wanted a baby so ‘m givin’ it to you,” he groans, keen nails softly dragging down the curvature of your waist. sukuna’s throne substantially starts to growl itself due to the pressuring weight stacked upon each other, filling up the domain with its constant creaking. “ugh,” his head tilts back, and he wraps all arms around you. his second cock followed shortly after, spraying right down the valley of your ass. thin stripes of cum droop down the sides of your thighs as you sit up, watching it spill out. “don’t .. give me that look, little girl,” he swallows thickly, watching as you straighten your back — hovering over his drooling tip. “hah, what’s with the smug expression?”

“nothing,” you hum, and even as he’s still cumming, one of his cock’s buried inside just halfway - another grazing against your aching hole, he grunts from your touch. he’s weighty, and his sack hangs low due to how sensitive he was. sukuna was full and swollen—and you could tell that he had so much more to give you. “want more,” you whine, pressing a kiss underneath his crooked mouth. “heh, unless you’re too milked out, big guy.”

sukuna glares at you—but he allows you to have your way on his lap, feeling his other cock brush near the back of your sopping pussy that’s sobbing with such dewy remnants of cum. “horny girl,” he huffs, though if you squinted just enough you could see a little pout forming against his lips.

three out of four burly arms wrap around your torso, pulling you closer and you gasp—hearing your cunt squelch the second he’s aligning his second cock against your sweltering hole. “but fine then. let’s see you take both,” and as sukuna grabs your chin, pressing a wet kiss against your mouth, he whispers hoarsely against your lips. you whimper once he gently presses his claw near the center of your stomach, nibbling at your bottom lip with his fangs.

“won’t be talkin’ for long once i swell up that pretty tummy, little girl.”

[salmoncakepls]

...🦌?

[sylusismybby]

Husband Sylus loves to take his time when he is eating you out, his hands are so gentle yet so rough as they spread your legs. He places kisses all over your breasts before his mouth moved lower to your stomach, his tongue presses against your skin and he licks down to your hips before placing a slight bite there, leaving a little mark for days to follow. His red eyes were on your face the whole time, he didn't look away once, enjoying how you squirmed and moaned under his every move. Once he finally reaches your heat, he places a kiss over your clothed sex making a slight whine leave your lips, he loved teasing you. "What's wrong, kitten? Are you getting impatient?" Your thighs are his next victim, he presses a few bites on your plush flesh and then kisses up to your pussy again. "Just say the words and I'll give it to you."

You bite your lip before answering. "Please Sylus, please.." Oh how he loved that sound from your mouth, he almost growled at that, his head lowered again and his teeth bit into the fabric of your panties swiftly taking them off of your legs. Sylus spreads you again, you're fully naked now, fully in his view, just his to deavor and that's exactly what he planned to do. Without a moment more, he dives in, his tongue immediately darting out and licking a stripe up your slit. "You're all wet, kitten." A slight smile appears on his lips and he continues to tease you with a few licks and then he fully let's his tongue wonder. Loud gaps is what he gets out of you, his mouth is working relentlessly on your pussy, sucking and licking everywhere. He moans against your core, his hips griding against the sheets as he eats you out. Sylus wanted nothing more than to be buried deep inside of you but he loved pleasing you just as much. "You taste so good, sweetie."

He pulls away for a second, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your pussy, his red eyes look between your thighs. "My pretty wife." Whispering to himself, Sylus goes back in, this time his mouth is more lewd. His mouth finds your clit and you moan, hands tugging onto his white hair, hips bucking against his face and he appreciates it all. "Good girl, kitten. Just like that." Fuck, he loved how you tasted, he loved how you reacted to him, he loved you. Letting go of your clit, his fingers are digging into your thighs, he moves lower, his tongue teasing your hole. The wet noises of his mouth against your core echo throughout the room, your moans grow louder and you can feel that warmth stirring in your lower belly. Your hands move from his hair to the sheets, gripping the soft black material as Sylus continues to pleasure you in all the right ways.

"Mhhh, are you gonna cum for me?" The way he mumbles against your pussy sends waves all throughout your body, the pure bliss is pulling you closer and closer to the edge. Sylus noticed the change in your reactions, the way your pussy twitched as his mouth and tongue worked on you, he would frame a picture of you on his wall like this. "I'll take that as a yes." He chuckles kissing your folds before spreading them with his fingers to get an even better angle of you. His tongue licks in between your wet folds, he almost moans at your taste, hips griding against the sheets, his cock is painfully hard. However, your pleasure is his first priority. "Sylus! I am gonna-mgh!" Your legs starts shaking, they threatened to close against his head but he held you open. "I know kitten, cum for me. Let it all out." And you do, your eyes roll back, a loud moan of his name escapes you. Your husband doesn't stop, he laps up all of you, grunting as you cum against his face. If he could, he was stay all day between your pretty thighs, after all, that's what husband's are for in his mind, to please and devote themselves to thier wife fully.

[syluss-littlecrow]

better than the devil

<sylus x fem!reader>

where you find out if Sylus really has horns, and why he avoids letting you touch them

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, size kink (i mean bro is PACKING), breeding kink, sylus’s horns are ✨sensitive✨, dirty talk, sexual tension, missionary, a fuck ton of horn play, horny horns, cumming untouched, orgams galore!, so much cum♡

w/c: 2.9K

a/n: gotta thank the loml @bro-atz for helping me with this a little ehehehe >:) I hope this destroyed yall as much as this destroyed me to write it!!🥹

They say he takes the form of some dragon-like creature—with large black horns and wings. 

The first time you witnessed it with your own two eyes was when he choked out a serpent wanderer ten times his size before it got to you. You were semi-conscious at that point of time, the fatigue threatening to take over, but you had caught a glimpse of his silhouette—two thick appendages that curled proudly past his dirty silver hair, and large wings that hung off his back—before you blacked out. 

“Staring at me isn’t going to get any of your curiosities satisfied”, Sylus snaps you out of your thoughts. Your gaze flickers to his face, but Sylus has his eyes on his phone. 

Then his gaze shifts to you. 

“What are you thinking about, sweetie?”

Of course, you couldn’t just tell him outright that you wanted to see him magically grow his horns out of his head. You doubt even Luke and Kieran have seen it themselves. 

“Your horns.”

Sylus lowers his phone onto his lap, then he cocks an eyebrow, which turns to a furrow in seconds. 

“What gave you the idea that I grew horns?” He asks, his tone laced with mock and caution. His attention is fully on you now. 

Yeah, maybe that was not a good question to ask. Then again, being around someone as direct as Sylus had made you pick up his mannerisms quite a fair bit. 

“Nothing really”, you brush off, attempting to derail the conversation before something goes wrong. “I’m just curious.”

“Talk”, Sylus demands, albeit in a soft tone. “I’m listening.” 

His crimson eyes burn a hole into your head, and you now only realise the way he has you cornered on his couch, his large frame looming over yours. 

You sigh, realising he’s not about to let it go anytime soon. 

“A few weeks ago, during one of the battles we had, where I almost died-“

“Get to the point, sweetie”, Sylus cuts, seeing through your guise. 

You pout. “Right. Before I blacked out, I saw you appear right in front of me, with horns.”

Sylus raises his eyebrows, seemingly in amusement. “You sure you weren’t hallucinating?”

He earns a smack on his chest. You’re ready to let him disprove you further or whatever, but your body jolts when you feel Sylus snake his arms around your waist before he carries you effortlessly off the corner of the couch and onto his lap. 

You watch his eyes grow soft when he locks his gaze with yours. His expression is unreadable.

Your eyes widen in amazement when the thick pair of horns curl past his locks, the black a stark contrast with his white hair. He looks like he’s wearing bows in a funny, demonic type of way. Not that he has to know that. 

You continue to stare at his horns, visually taking in the rough yet smooth texture and patterns that run downwards as the horns grow thicker towards the base. 

“What are you really?” You wonder aloud, your fingers reaching out to feel the interesting texture of his horns, only for him to pull away quickly.

“It’s not the right time for you to know”, he replies curtly. You notice the glint of concern in his eyes, shrouded under the indifferent expression he wears. 

So you decide to leave it for now, at least. 

Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop you from annoying the ever-loving shit out of Sylus about his horns once you found out about it.

He would stare at you with his eyebrows furrowed, muttering that he should have never told you about his horns, only for you to bat your eyelashes at him, much to his annoyance. 

“At least let me touch them if you’re not gonna tell me more about them”, you would whine. With a frown, he would push your forehead with a finger, giving you his standard answer.

"No."

“Then could you at least tell me why you won’t let me touch your horns?”

He would rest his thumb and index finger on his chin, feigning a thinking stance before his expression drops deadpan and then the curt answer leaves his lips.

“No.”

You’re putting this right next to when you were fighting for your life to get that fucking brooch months ago. 

While the thought continues to eat into your curiosity, you mostly let Sylus off the hook after a while. For some reason, you’ve been noticing that Sylus has been walking around his mansion with his horns freely out. Maybe because he’s shown you his full horns once that’s why?

Or he’s just straight-up taunting you. 

You feign nonchalance, only stealing glances at the thick appendage that stood out against his pale locks from time to time, but never really bringing it up to him, for now at least.

You hear the raindrops patter against the large windows of Sylus's room one afternoon. At least the heavy clouds are hiding the sun on top of the dark curtains drawn, and it makes Sylus's rest a little more comfortable. 

He's sound asleep beside you on his bed, but you're seated up on your phone, the sound of the rain also slowly luring you to grow sleepy. You stretch a little, careful not to wake the male beside you. Sylus grunts softly, and you feel his hair tickle your thighs.

Through your peripherals, something catches your attention. The black on white is undoubtedly hard to miss.

Now that Sylus seems dead asleep, you're considering taking a chance to take a closer look at his horns, and maybe even touch them. 

Carefully, you shift your weight closer to Sylus, monitoring his expressions and movements. When the coast is clear, you lean closer, staring at his horns with much amazement. It's a lot different now that you're this up close to admire them. 

His horns aren't simply a simple shade of jet black–at different angles, you notice how the scales of his horns shimmer like an oil spill under the soft light. Close up, the base of his horns are thick, and as it extends, it curls, almost fully wrapping around his head. 

“So pretty”, you mutter to yourself. Your fingers are reached out as if by instinct, barely inches away from touching his pretty crown. 

You pause, weighing the risks of attempting to touch his horns. How fucked would you be if you actually did? 

Your eyes scan Sylus’s calm sleeping face. He doesn't seem to have even noticed his horns have grown out. 

“It’s just a little touch, he won't feel it anyways”, you convince yourself softly, your resolve firming as your curiosity begins to bubble over your rationale.

You let your fingers brush his horn, feeling the cold and scaly texture beneath your fingertips. Your eyes are sparkling in amazement even more, now that your curiosity has been satisfied. You press your fingertips onto the appendage, enjoying how nice and cool it feels to the touch.

Just then, you hear Sylus groan slightly. Your hand immediately retracts before you fully freeze, watching the way he presses his head against your leg, his eyebrows slightly scrunched before it returns back to relaxed. 

Close call. 

You obviously don’t learn your lesson, because your fingers are on his horns almost immediately once more. You grow more curious about the feeling of running your palm across his horns this round. 

So you do.

Your hand starts from the thick base, and you stroke it, following the horn's curl, enjoying the way the texture of the scales run smooth under your palm.

And then Sylus makes a sound beneath you. You squint in curiosity, wondering if you heard it right.

So you run your hand from his tip to the base this time. 

And this time, Sylus lets out another moan. You definitely did not hear wrong. 

Your cheeks are slowly flushing when you realise what you're doing to him. But for some reason, it makes you want to do it more.

So this is why he doesn't want you touching his horns? 

With a cheeky smile, you run your fingers along his horns in various ways and places, eliciting more pretty and erotic reactions from Sylus. 

You giggle to yourself, trying to ignore how he's making you aroused with all the noises he's making with every stroke you give his horns. 

You want to go for the next round, wondering how far you can take this.

Obviously not very far, because the next time you do, Sylus’s hand catches your wrist before you're about to touch his horns again.

He stares at you with half-lidded eyes, pink dusted on his cheeks and his breathing shallow.

“Are you having fun, kitten?” He asks with a frown.

Fuck.

You feign a smile, trying to wave your hand from his grip, of course, your attempts futile. 

Sylus’s other arm curls around your thighs, locking you from leaving the bed while Sylus lets his sleep leave his body from the rude interruption. 

“Denying me of satisfying my curiosity only makes it worse”, you shrug. Well, if only Sylus had just let you have a little touch…

The corner of Sylus’s lips pull up to a half smirk. 

“Right”, Sylus replies, a hint of annoyance and something else laced in his tone before he shifts above you in one swift motion, trapping you underneath him on his bed. 

“Then, I'm sure you don't have to be reminded that actions have consequences?”

You swallow hard. 

His hand that grabbed yours is placed on his chest, and he forces you to trail down his body, feeling his thick chest, then his abs under your touch, all the way down until he stops you right on his thick erection.

“You should take responsibility, don't you think?” Sylus asks with a raised eyebrow. 

You know it's pointless even attempt to escape when he’s devouring your lips like he hasn't eaten in days. It's so intoxicating. You would never admit your greed, but Sylus knows you well enough to feed you so good. You want to pull him so impossibly close.

In between breathless kisses, your warm hands trail from his biceps to his shoulders, to his neck, and right to his hair.

You test waters–letting your fingers rake through his hair, grazing the base of his horns. You get his green light when he doesn't swat you off, on the contrary, it makes Sylus grow more desperate in the kiss.

You confidently stroke his horn, from base to tip once more, and the moans that leave Sylus’s lips sound like fucking heaven. 

His crimson eyes finally meet yours, and he almost looks like he's in pain. 

“If you keep doing that–ngh–” Sylus trails off with another strained moan when the sensation of you stroking his horn buzzes right to his cock that he has shut his eyes to hold back. 

“This?” you tease, sliding your palm down to his base once more, rubbing the scaly appendage, watching him failing at trying to keep his composure. 

“Fuck”, he hisses, diving into your lips once more, eating you up. 

He pulls away briefly, pressing his lips just below your ear.

“You’re gonna be taking responsibility, kitten.”

He presses himself close onto you, so close that you feel his cock just pulsing against your pelvis, only separated by his black sweats. Sylus takes your chin in his fingers and steals your breath away once more, uncontrollably grunting with every stroke your hands play with his horns. You feel his cock twitch, then pulse before the feeling of warmth spreads across your skin, accompanied by a long, drawn out moan in your mouth.

It makes you dizzy with bliss, realising what you've done to him. 

Sylus pulls away once more, catching his breath, his eyes reflecting something more feral when you met his. 

But all you do is flash a cheeky smile at him, letting your fingers caress his cheek. 

His fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts and he yanks them off, almost growing feral for the second time when his eyes meet the sight of the way your pussy is glistening so much that a wet and thin string of arousal sticks itself in between your pussy and your soaked panties. 

Well, Sylus is holding the short end of the stick anyway, because when he tugs his sweats down, your heartbeat accelerates as your eyes land on his cock–thick, red and completely covered in white and thick cum, some staining his underwear, twitching slightly with dribbles of cum seeping past his cockhead when the fabric brushes past his balls. 

He looks so fucking delicious when he's messy like that. Shit.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself, staring at me like that”, he teases. He doesn't even look embarrassed.

“Maybe I should play with your horns more often”, you reply with a smile. Sylus narrows his eyes at you, his expression mixed with annoyance and affection. His fingers press against your soaking clit, enjoying the way the smile on your face gets wiped, replaced with a contorted expression of pleasure when he rubs it in slow circles. 

“I’m strongly against that idea, sweetie”, Sylus responds, leaning in to take in the expression of your mind slowly growing dumb and blank just from his slender fingers rubbing you out. “It’ll give you a little too much leverage over me.”

Through the hazy and building pleasure, you still manage to reply, “that's the whole point.”

Sylus only smiles at your reply, his fingers leaving your clit. You're about to protest, that is, until he grabs you by your hips, dragging you closer to him, then pressing your knees to your chest, before his wet cock slowly enters you from below. He watches your face contort in pleasure–your eyes rolling back and your eyebrows furrowed–while soaking in the fucking delicious feeling of your cunt warm and wrapped around his cock. 

“S-so good”, you whimper, his fullness knocking out any ounce of breath and sense out of you at a dangerous pace the his cock inches even deeper into you.

“Such a nice and warm pussy hole”, Sylus grits, pushing himself even deeper, his control slipping when he's buried himself all the way in. “Fuck, you're so good for me, kitten.”

You're clawing his pillows when Sylus starts fucking you, and you're looking at Sylus with such a glazed out expression–and you know it drives him fucking crazy. His palm rests on the bulge that his cock is pushing every time he enters you, and it makes your thighs shake. Your moans grow in pitch and tone on top of the sounds of lewd wet skin slapping. 

He lets you wrap your legs around his waist in return for letting him scatter love bites across your neck.

So you decide that it’s the perfect time to aim for his sensitive spots once more.

Your fingers tug against his scalp, then alternating to stroking his horns once more, throwing Sylus into another round of pleasured daze. 

You feel his cock fill you up even more, and it makes you greedy to how far you can push it.

“I really should make you regret this”, Sylus mutters, failing to suppress another groan when your fingers scratch against the base. 

His thrusts become more like ruts, his cockhead hitting your g-spot over and over as payback. Sylus sprouts a satisfied smirk as he watches you completely come undone on his cock. You throw your head back while stars flicker in and out of your vision. The pleasure is growing so fucking good that you're choking on your moans too. 

“Right there! Fuck, that feels so fucking good, Sylus”, you sob through wet lashes and heavy pants. 

Sylus is mesmerised by your pretty expressions and the pretty sounds you always make for him when he's breaking you apart. 

Maybe you finding out about his sensitive horns is his punishment for indulging in these sick pleasures. Nonetheless, he still wouldn't have any other way.

Your hands find his horns once more, and he falters for a split second. But he doesn't shake you off since he's much too focused on trying to force an orgasm out of you.

Your pussy squeezes him before it starts uncontrollably fluttering against his cock. Ah, his goal is slowly being fulfilled.

As your orgasm dangles above you, you react with periodical squeezes on his cock and his horns, which definitely draws a much larger reaction from Sylus. 

“So close”, you whine, your orgasm slowly filling the crevices of your brain, plunging you deep into pleasure. Your cunt clenches on his cock, and you unintentionally yank his horns.

Sylus fucking growls, pressing himself so fucking deep into you, his cum fucking spurting into you–so much that some is leaking out from your plugged pussy hole and onto the bed. 

He pulls his cock out momentarily, letting his cum ooze from his cockhead, his eyes darting to the loads seeping out of your hole, before he slides his cock into you once more. You gasp at the fullness, another squeeze to his horns, which only stimulates Sylus once more, and his cock fills you up with another warm and sticky load. 

He’s panting, but he musters his energy to meet your eyes. 

“Sweetie”, he calls out to you amidst his dick attempting to take over his brain. “If you don't get your hands off, your pussy won't be able to hold anymore, I guarantee.”

He's met with a fucked-out and sly grin from his partner. 

“And I thought you enjoyed challenges.”

Sylus scoffs at your comment, realising that he really has to teach his kitten a lesson to not touch things that aren't hers.

[vamptastic]

and like one of the things that made me realize oh this really isn't my fault was seeing a post on here about anger management and realizing that my dad never even tried to manage his anger until very recently when my mom made him start counseling under threat of divorce (after i moved out). like, he didn't even try, he just genuinely didn't give a shit about the impact his actions had on his children as long as it made him feel better.

[drill-teeth-art]

Wow! Here’s something incredibly personal.

This is Good Bi Gender. A comic I made to express some feelings I have about my gender. I don’t really have that much else to say about it. Here it is.

[Image Description: A digital comic made with sharp, angular abstract lines and only the colors white, blue, pink, and black. The featured character is all white, except for facial features and hair colors, which changes from panel to panel. The comic reads: Cover Panel: The text "Good Bi Gender", the words colored with the trans flag. It shows a glitchy person's face, half pink and half blue. Panel 1: White text reads: "Hello. My name is apparently irrelevant. And my pronouns are he/him and she/her. But you can't call me she/her. And here's why." Someone with a half-pink and half-blue shirt looks to the side. One eye is covered with hair, and the other eye is pink while the iris is blue.

Panel 2: The character sits happily, imagining facial hair and a masculine voice. "I don't want top surgery. I love my chest. And I dream about being on testosterone someday soon." The character looks at a phone, frowning. The phone shows the male symbol with an "X" through it. Text next to it reads: “People don't seem to think that the features I dream of are very pretty though... Or they think even worse of them than that…”

Panel 3: The character’s features are all pink, and sits in a blank frame. The character reaches over to a blue frame, frowning. “I don't like the animosity. I really despise it.” A photo of the character shows an all-blue frame and blue hair, with pink outlines and facial features. “To be a boy... I aspire to be one. I aspire to be masculine in all its handsomeness. All its prettiness.” Panel 4: The character sits in an all blue panel, but reaches back out to the pink panel. “And I'm still a girl too. I was so excited to have both. To love both. To have handsome femininity. Beautiful masculinity.” The frames break and connect, and pink and blue swirl together. The character smiles in between the frames, with one pink eye and one blue eye. “So excited. And yet I get asked…”

Panel 5: Two hands hold out two different pills to the character, one blue and one pink. They ask “Male? or Female?” using the male and female symbols.The character, facial features an array of pink and blue, looks between the two hands, distressed. “It's both! I'm both! They're not opposites. Not narrow boxes. I say I'm both despite the insistence that I can't be. And I know what I look like. I know I look like a girl to most. I know that if I say people can call me she, that's all I will get from most. Because it's "easier". It "makes more sense". To have my masculinity, I am often forced to be unflinching in it and it alone. To never use she. Because if I don't, I will never get to have he.” [The words "she" and "he" are italicized.] Panel 6: Text reads: “I'm still very happy to be so comfortable in my identity. To know, despite all that, that I am indeed a boy and a girl and both. But you know. Telling people to only use he/him for me. Guarding my masculinity all just to have it. All at the expense of the part of me who is happily and unashamedly a girl.” The character cries from one pink eye, the other hidden. The character holds a pink girl in a sea of blue, the girl crying out. In the midst of the blue, text reads: “Well, it fucking breaks her heart.” End ID]

Edit: @starberry-skies wrote an ID for the comic, so I added it to the og post with its permission!