#or send him to the reader

[tarantulasnot]

Sudden ramble because I want to.

Hi! This is the snot that the original tarantula did not expect to sneeze out and it became way more drawn out than I thought it would!!

Content Contains: Yearning, rushed slow burn, Leon is an alcoholic, masturbation, Leon thinks about how much the reader cares and pops a wad, but it means something chat, will have a part two.

Imagine like an old vendetta Leon that lives in a small apartment. Something cheap. After all, it's not like he's going to have any time to actually take care of it. Just dump some of the useless amount of money he has into it every month and crash every once in a while. It's simple, and it keeps his alcohol in a safe place.

But then there was you. The sweet girl next door, barely aware of the horrors of the world. So naive, so God damn innocent with your bright eyes and big dreams. He never expected to see a little ray of sunshine living so close to him. So, it took him by surprised when you greeted him old-fashioned. An apple pie you baked on your downtime to relieve stress from your college life.

Your voice was so sweet. So open-hearted he almost wanted to vomit. "Hi! I'm your next door neighbor (Y/N), and I figured I'd bring you a welcome gift." Your hands gesture the fresh pie towards him, and his nose scrunches up at the sight. What was this? Some kind of cheesy rom-com? What was your angle? Why were you buttering him up like this?

"Thanks." His voice was gruff and low, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation, so you were quick to let it go. "Oh yeah, of course. I live right across from you, so feel free to stop by anytime. I make enough pastries to make a dentist rich." Ah, what a jokester you were.

Still, his blue eyes never left your face. You were such a pretty little thing. So unreal, so contrasting to him. It almost felt impossible. To have such... normalcy in his life.

"Yeah, okay." He took the pie from your hands, and he gave a short wave good-bye before he closed the door. First day here, and he was already feeling like his simple apartment was going to be a hassle. He had to avoid you.

But later that night, he stares down at the pie in front of him. Still in its tin, glaring at him as he sits down across from it. It's clear you put in great effort, and he fiddles with his fork. He can't let it go to waste, and it's not like it was bad. But a part of him felt so wrong. He didn't deserve this. This sweet pastry as opposed to gas station snacks and whatever rations the government decided to supply him with while he was on missions. If those ran out? The fish he'd pick up or the animals he'd shoot down.

The creatures he'd shoot down before leaving them to rot. Not quite that deprived yet.

He took a swig of his flask, relishing in the burn down his throat... and then he dipped his fork into the pie.

Leon had a mission today. Quite literally. Some stupid bio-terrorism somewhere he didn't really pay attention to but would be debriefed on again when he got there. He spent his morning equipping himself with his knife, his gun, some ammo, and whatever other necessities would be most likely to ensure his survival.

He doesn't own any mirrors. He doesn't care to if he's going to come home fucked up anyway. Leon exits the front door, locking it behind him and he heads towards the stairs.

And he sees you again.

Your appearance is so vastly different from his. Your hair has been styled in a way that fits you perfectly, your makeup flawless, and a fresh clean outfit adorns your body to match the messenger bag strewn over one shoulder. Then you smile at him

Did you always smile like that? This frequently?

"Hey again! Did you like the pie last night?" That voice brings him out of his fleeting thoughts, and he nods as you slow your descend down the stone steps. His pace ambling down to match yours.

"Yeah, I did." If Leon had the mind to, he would have given a more sociable, reciprocal reply. However, that's not him anymore. He doesn't care to find the him that would anyway.

"Well that's good. I'm glad." You reply, now walking side by side with him. His icy blue eyes graze over you, the warmth that seems to just radiate off of you.

Eventually, you both reached the bottom, and he finds his bike was parked next to your car. It fits you, and it fits him. Your car, with interior decorations and even a padded steering wheel cover for extra comfort. His bike, which is so easy to flip and likely to be hit. So easy to be in the wrong place at the right time.

"I didn't catch your name yesterday." Good. You didn't need to know it. In the same hand, why was it such a problem? It was just a name.

"Leon. My name's Leon." He replies simply, throwing his leg over his bike as you unlock your car.

"It was nice talking to you again, Leon." You reply with a goodbye wave, and a smile.

Something in his chest leaps. There was something about the way you said his name. It wasn't beckoning him to follow along some plan he wasn't aware of, and it wasn't ordering him to do something. Its just...

Fuck.

Leon rarely ever gets back from missions during the day. However, a week later he does. In a way, it's like a little reprieve. Enough time to patch himself up and relax (to the best he can with the help of alcohol) before he goes to sleep.

So today, as he sits on his couch staring mindlessly at some movie playing on the cheap cable the complex provides, his thoughts wandered. Blurred and aimless as the alcohol continues to pump into his bloodstream. However, he thinks back to the pie that night.

It was the best, and the first one he's had since he was a boy. Did he like it, you asked him. God, he loved it. After the first bite, he was like a man starved man. His mind practically left him as he took bite after bite after bite until there was nothing but tin and crumbs in front of him.

If he wanted to be existential, he felt in some way like he was eating a part of you. It was authentic. Peeled honeycrisp apples not totally softened from the heat, the crust so obviously hand kneaded by the uneven and plushness of it. Plush, like you. Like your cheeks when you smiled. They seemed so soft.

Calloused fingertips came up to his own face, grazing over the stubble and wrinkles there. He clenched his jaw, slamming his hand down and throwing back his flask once again.

Then, his thoughts returned to other things.

To Leon's surprise, there was no call at three in the morning demanding his help with some bio-terrorism or some cooky scientist. Instead, after he'd woken up and began to spike his own coffee, there was a knock at his door.

Well, the good Lord gives, and the good Lord takes away.

Maybe if he didn't see things that God could not have possibly allowed, he might have actually sought the deity out.

Footsteps trudge to his front door, swinging it open and looking down at his visitor. It's you. Of course it's you.

His hands flex on the edge of the door, and his eyes look down at you. "Hi, (Y/N)." He greets you, and once again you give him another smile. God fucking dammit, are you even capable of feeling anything other than optimism?

"Morning Leon! Well, I know you didn't ask, but college has yet again led me into insane amounts of baking. I know you liked the pie last time, so I was wondering if you'd like some breakfast? I have a surplus over here..." You let out a soft laugh at the end of your sentence, tucking hair behind your ear. God your face, the one he'd been thinking about last night.

Mulling over the thought, he agreed. "I don't see why not."

It truly wasn't a long visit. You weren't lying about that, or the surplus you'd whipped up. He wondered how much you spent on ingredients for these little concoctions you made. Maybe he'd give you some money. He had enough of it laying around. Practically useless.

He sat at his table. Staring at the treats you'd covered in saran wrap. It wasn't just pastries either. There was shepherd's pie in a Tupperware dish, chicken pot pie, and he wondered what you did with all this food. Maybe you handed it out to all the neighbors you knew.

Oh. He didn't like that.

He'd already finished his spiked coffee, and was now sipping on straight vodka as he glared down at the sweets. He knew what people were like. He betted they all wanted a piece of you. God, why wouldn't they?

You were sweet, kind, gentle, and you had that fucking smile... looked at him like he was special. Something to care about. Were you pitying him? No, you wouldn't do that.

You were just a good person.

You were gorgeous, too. Such a lethal combination, and you didn't even know it. He wondered if you had a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend.

He took another swig, his brows furrowing as he tried to think about something else. But alas, he couldn't.

Who wouldn't want to snatch you up? Come over every now and then to look at your smile and your pretty face, and eat the stuff you baked so impulsively.

Who wouldn't want you?

You were young, you'd probably want to do something with a lover. What kind of lover were you? Were you shy and timid? Blushing and moaning softly as someone fucked you?

If he fucked you?

You'd want to settle down probably... you seemed the type. He couldn't settle down, though. Not with all these grueling missions he's forced to do.

But wouldn't it be nice to come home to someone like you? A pretty smile waiting to greet him with food in the oven and a house that wasn't dusty. Full of the life he was missing from himself?

His breathing unconsciously became more labored the more he thought about it. You'd have a limited amount of time with him. He'd make the best of it. Eating the food you made and thanking you. Helping you clean and relaxing with you. Something to keep him company besides the steel flask he brings to his lips again.

He'd fuck you.

His hands would dwarf your thighs as he lifts your hips up and down on his cock while his own hips snap up into you, your warmth. His hand leaves his flask to his forehead as his other hand drifts down his abdomen, skin twitching under his own touch. His brows furrowing as a low groan escapes him.

Would you beg him to slow down? Cry about how full you felt with his cock pressing against every soft contour your cunt had to offer him. Only for him. You'd look up at him with half lidded, fluttering eyes and swollen, parted lips as he fucked you like he needed to.

His head was already muddled from the alcohol, but the lust only made his head swim further and further into untouched depths until he's palming himself through sweapants, his hips shifting and twitching in excitement. A groan tears from his throat. Would you press your palm against him like this? Feel him up with curiosity, unaware of how fucking good it felt?

Would you put him past your lips? Sweet words interrupted by his cock, soft cheeks red and stained with tears as he fucks your throat.

His hand dipped below to his waistband to his throbbing cock. His tip already leaking with anticipation as he spreads the essence over his length.

You were nice, but maybe you weren't as naive as he's making you out to be. Maybe you'd have him laid out on his back, situated between his legs as you stroke him, making him groan and grip the bedsheets because your hands would be so fucking soft. So experienced, gliding over his cock as he's helpless to it. Watching you as you work his old cock with enthusiasm only young girls like you had.

His hand pumps faster, and he's borderline whimpering at the thought. Maybe you'd take care of him. Pin him down with your hands on his chest while your hips slammed down on top of his like your life depended on it. His hips would twitch uselessly, too focused on your cunt sucking him in and the gloss decorating his cock as you used him to make yourself cum. It's the least he can do, after all these pastries you've made him.

Only him.

You'd treat him so fucking good.

"F-Fuck!" Leon can't help himself when a strangled groan escapes his lips, cock shooting white hot ropes into his hand and onto the floor as he cums, thighs twitching and chest heaving as he comes down from his high.

It takes a second for him to get over the aftershock before his eyes flicker open, and he states at the cooling food in front of him. With a sigh, he tucks himself into his pants, and grabs a brownie. His other hand picking up his flask again.

I will make a part two but it's getting late and I'm moving in two days so erm yeah eat your food. The next chapter will be from the reader's perspective muehehe

[frudoo]

It’s always baker!reader or butcher!Simon—which is always delicious, mind you—but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen baker!Simon (correct me if I’m wrong). Fem!Reader.

Baker!Simon who decided to take his therapist’s advice to find a relaxing hobby and taught himself to bake and decorate after retiring from the military.

Baker!Simon who runs a home bakery so he can do what he loves where he loves. Where else could he blast his favorite playlists while creating tasty treats (he’s convinced that listening to Tool truly helps make the goodies taste better)?

Baker!Simon who specializes in intricate desserts—flawless layered cakes lathered in rich buttercream, perfectly piped patterns across the surface. Soft, chewy sugar cookies with royal icing that has a satisfying snap to those who can actually bear to bite into them and ruin his beautiful designs. Smooth, vibrant macarons with a gorgeous rise and creamy ganache filling.

Baker!Simon who gets his traction on Facebook. He sells his goods on Marketplace and is a member of nearly every baking group on the site—and is quite popular amongst the older ladies in the same groups.

Baker!Simon who, as amazing as his baked goods look and taste, cannot take a flattering picture of them to save his life. Because of this, he doesn’t get as much business as he’d like. Apparently, Marketplace shoppers are picky about camera quality, as if that has anything to do with talent or flavor. Even the baking groups he’s in have given him warnings in the past to take clearer photos—the admins backed off as soon as the old ladies found out they were picking on their best boy.

Food Photographer!Reader who stumbles upon one of his groups one day, seeing the potential in his treats and knowing she could help him out with his promotion photos.

Baker!Simon who cocks an eyebrow at the ping his phone alerts him of, opening Messenger to see a pretty thing with a camera in his DMs:

Sorry to bother you, but I’ve gone through your profile and I think your work is absolutely gorgeous. If you’re interested, I’m a trained photographer and I’d like to help you out with your pictures? No charge, don’t worry. Consider it a favor between two small businesses! :)

Part 2 <3

[peachsukii]

✮ content. pro-hero!bakugo x pro-hero fem!reader. late 20 somethings + married w/ a toddler. family fluff while he’s away on a mission. slightly suggestive (aka Katsuki’s down bad for his wife). ;)

“Momma!” Your daughter shouts from the living room, the little pitter patters of her feet echoing down the hall as she sprints toward you with glee. “Phone’s ringing, pick it up, please!”

Her small hands shove the phone against your thigh, bouncing up and down in place with excitement. You tuck the folded towel in your arms into the closet and bend down to her level. When you take the phone from her, your husband’s name —💥Katsuki 👑💕— is displayed across the screen, accompanied by a photo of the three of you on your last beach trip. Clicking the “Accept” button, the visual of Katsuki in his hero costume appears, his attention focused on removing his gloves while waiting for you to answer.

“Hey handsome,” you greet, heart swelling when you catch him smirk at the compliment. “Someone’s been waiting for you to call.”

“An’ where’s my little girl at?”

Your daughter hops into view, jumping up and down with her hands waving frantically.

“Hi Daddy!” She giggles, dancing back and forth on her tip toes. “Did ya beat up the bad guys today?”

Katsuki laughs heartily, finally sitting on the bed in his hotel room. “Sure did. I’m keepin’ you and Momma safe. How’s school goin’?”

“S’good! I got a gold star today for my drawing.”

“Yeah? Proud of you, sweetheart. Can’t wait for ya to show me when I come home.”

The time on your phone reads 7:30PM, and like clockwork, your daughter begins to stretch, yawning the same way Katsuki does when he’s exhausted after a long shift.

“Why don’t you get ready for bed, sweetie?” You suggest while rubbing her back. “I know you’re tired.”

“Okaaay,” she pouts, trying to fight off her sudden sleepiness. “G’night Daddy. I miss you!”

“Only two more days. Love an’ miss you, Princess. Sweet dreams.”

With a wave and a smile, she trots off toward her bedroom to change into her PJs, leaving you with a few minutes to talk with Katsuki before tucking her into bed. You walk back into your joint bedroom, leaving the door cracked as you lay on the bed. Katsuki does the same, shifting the camera to follow his movements as he stretches out across the sheets.

“Goddamn, I miss you somethin’ fierce,” he admits, sighing into his forearm as it crosses his face to hide the soft dusting of pink on his cheeks. “You put a spell on me or some shit?”

“Not this time,” you chuckle, feet swaying in the air behind you like a giddy schoolgirl. “I miss you, too. How was your day?”

“S’alright, nothin’ crazy. Can’t wait’ta be back home, sleepin’ alone sucks.”

“Yeah, the bed is cold without you.”

There’s a short lull in the conversation before it shifts into something more sensually charged. Katsuki tends to get clingier the longer he’s stationed away from home — all the telltale signs of it are reflecting in his eyes through the camera, sparkling under the dim moonlight from his hotel room window.

“Good thing I know how to keep ya warm,” he purrs with a wink, the mischievous grin stretched over his lips telling you how he’s truly feeling. “S’how you got knocked up the first time.”

There it is, that familiar warmth flooding into your belly and heat spreading from your ears to your toes.

“Kaaats!” you whine, shyly tucking your head into your chest. “Shut up.”

“Don’t get shy on me now, Peaches,” he teases, laughing quietly at your bashfulness. “S’cute how easy ya are to rile up.”

You wave him off and roll your eyes lovingly. “I should go put her to bed. Are you gonna be up in an hour?”

His brow furrows curiously. “Prob’ly. Why?”

“Gives me time to get her settled, put away the laundry and finish the dishes. Up for a little late night date?”

Oh, Katsuki knows exactly what that means. Why was the thought of watching you doing chores around the house and taking care of your daughter making him suddenly break out in a sweat?

“Earth to Katsuki?” You call again and recollect his attention. “If you’re too tired—”

“Never too tired for you, baby. Go do what ya gotta do, I’ll be waitin’.”

“Okay, I love you!” You sweetly sing as you roll off the bed. “Get comfy, bye babe.”

“Love you too, Peach. See ya.”

The “End Call” screen flashes briefly in front of Katsuki’s eyes, the darkness of the hotel room returning once the screen dims into nothingness. He mumbles a breathless ‘fuck’ into the air before jumping off the bed to stomp toward the bathroom.

Only you can leave him hanging by a thread on simple promises, even when he’s miles away. And damn, did he love it.

[lvrxly]

thinking about nerdy!könig who can't get enough of the hot bimbo who finally gave him a chance. all dressed in pink and sparkles, he can't get enough of you. a pretty little dumb thing who needs tutoring. naturally, he jumped at the chance to get close to you. little did he know, you could teach him a few things too..

his hands nervously on your hips, glasses fogged due to how close your face was too his. rough but shaky hands running up and down your thighs, discreetly sliding his fingers under your skirt, trying to memorize the feeling of your skin on his fingertips.

quiet babbling slipping from his lips as you lazily bounce up and down on his cock, jumping in and out of german, the feeling of being inside you making him absolutely pussydrunk. "baby, bitte, bitte..please," his whimpers fill your ears...

-

i'm officially back baby (i need to be sedated asap)

[timedhoney]

Giving wonwoo hickeys would change my life. Straddling that tiny waist, leaning down as you bury your face into his warm neck. You watch as he squirms against you when your eyelashes brush along his blushed skin.

“Hi,” you murmur smoothly into his ear, just to feel his breath hitch in that gorgeous chest of his.

"Hi," he responds and you selfishly have to kiss those plump lips before you get back to the task at hand. Ok, maybe you have to slide in a little tongue too. You're not perfect. You love feeling how he reacts beneath you, love to feel how those large hands grip deeply into your thighs when you suck his bottom lip into your mouth. You know it drives him wild, and you wiggle your hips in satisfaction against the tent growing in his jeans.

God, what a man. How he manages to make an outfit with no more than a white shirt and pants have you to the point of drooling all over him, you have no idea. But when he walked into the door of your apartment, you immediately had to shove him onto your couch, pull his zipper halfway down, and then throw your legs over his. He looks picturesque in the way you've strewn him about, hair ruffled and jeans sliding down just enough to show a hit of muscle that makes you feel unholy things.

All that can wait though, because the spot just behind his ear is calling to you. You press your mouth there first before losing control and taking the tiniest nip just to watch the color flood up from his chest to his cheeks. What a beautiful gradient.

"You make it too easy, you know?" You say, smiling down at him as he brushes a piece of hair behind your ear, still flushed that cherry red. "One little bite and your'e going to act like this?" He nods shockingly fast, tipping his glasses down his nose with the action. You press them back up with your own nose, winking as you turn back to where you were. No distractions this time.

The noises that leave him always make it worth it. You take no prisoners when you pull at his skin, leaving obscene pops in your wake. You alternate between bites and licks, sucking and nipping. Only once you find the spot that creates the most delicious moan do you stop journeying, pressing your hips tightly into his. Feeling the heat start to radiate further off of him. Tasting the salt off his skin. Letting him writhe against you as you smile into the bite.

You look beneath you to admire your work.

"You're so lucky that I make pretty hickeys," you tell him smugly. And it's true, but maybe it's just that everything suits him. Beautiful blooms in varying shades of red and purple litter the left side of his neck. He groans as he slaps a hand over it.

"Ugh, did you have to go asymmetrical? It's going to be impossible to cover the one behind my ear with a turtleneck...." You laugh as you finally finish pulling down his zipper.

"I know you can't be mad when I just heard how you were behaving." He flips you onto your back on the couch and lifts up your shirt, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.

"Mine are going to be prettier than yours," is his only reply as he leans down to leave open mouthed kisses to your tits before he begins rival your bruises with his own.

"I love when you get competitive," you sigh dreamily.

[ghost-proofbaby]

can y’all imagine sending one of those things where a girl texts her man about having a bad day or wanting coffee or something and he replies by sending her an insane amount of money (like $100+) to eddie, and just being like “why don’t you ever do this for me? 😐” as a joke

and then the man just sends you one (1) fucking dollar.

and when you’re like “REALLY??? A DOLLAR???” he just goes “I DONT KNOW WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME IM BROKE”

it would become an inside joke, him randomly sending you the smallest amounts of money possible and just going “buy yourself something nice 😏” or “don’t spend this all at once baby” to be a little shit

god i love eddie munson

[potatoof69]

orv got me screaming 2 years later man like

wdym the reason why the protagonist goes on an endless journey and has more and more adventures is bc the reader wishes to see more of them and never have the story end.

wdym the reason why an author writes is bc they wish to speak to and save even just their one sole reader.

wdym the reason why the reader would sacrifice himself over and over again for fictional characters is bc he sees the people in stories as more important than him because their tales in the fictional world matter more to him than the pain he tries to ignore from the real world.

[minoment]

God sub!Miguel is so 🤭🤭

Like, I’m not a top by any means but he’d look so pretty begging. Wether it’s for me to move or for him to be allowed to move? Good lord…

And to have a hand wrapped around his neck while I’m chasing my own satisfaction? Or just to have some form of restriction on him while he’s begging me to touch him…

-🩵

Ugh yes..

Miguel cries so pretty too, doing his best to hold back the humiliating tears as you bounce up and down on his length. Eventually he can't hold back and the waterworks come, leaving him sobbing and begging for you to let him cum.

Add choking to the mix? He's a goner.. making soft gagging noises as you (safely 😠) squeeze the sides of his neck.

Furthermore, if you mock or tease him while he's like that.. he's nutting.. Hard.

"Look at you crying beneath me while I use you.."

"Such a messy little spider hm?"

"Your cock is such a good toy.. oh.. do you like being my little toy Miguel? Do you get off on me calling you names?"

Say anything along those lines and his back his arching off the sheets as he spills himself inside you with a tear-filled cry.

If he's being a brat, you can tie him up and ride him; dragging orgasm after orgasm out of him while you use him for your own pleasure. Slap him hard across the face when he cums and tell him what a slut he is. He FOLDS..

Pinch and play with his nipples after he comes down from his high, doesn't matter if you've milked him dry, he will whimper and get painfully hard again.

Of course when you're done with him, take care of him. Give him a long bath and lots of kisses. Tell him how much you adore him..

I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT THIS MAN IT'S NOT FUNNY

[rawbin-hsr]

Aventurine x Reader

You treat Aventurine with more respect than he deserves.

Read part 2 here !

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

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

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

18+, minors will be blocked <3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[finsplurtz]

noises — keigo.takami

— dom ! male.reader x sub ! Keigo Takami

— contents : sensitive wings , handjob , no actual sex though implied , lots of noises , biting hickeys wtv , overstim , breeding implied maybe..

warnings : unwanted pleasure , lots of “stop”

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

hawks loves to moan in your ear I’m sorry BUT ITS TRUE

you guys are gonna be cuddling, he’s laying on your chest, face nuzzled into your neck and you can like gently run your fingers across his back near his wings

“..mmh…” and he extremely slowly grinds up on you, so slow you almost don’t notice it. almost.

you touch at the base of his wings and massage them, he’s starts becoming noisy and whiny as hellll

“ahh..~! Hmnnn….” He’s panting like a dog and gripping your shirt

“you okay, love?” you ask and he’s sleepy asl he just grazes his teeth against your neck

you’re smiling to yourself like a maniac because his noises are so cute and he’s not afraid to let them out u wanna break him so bad

but you also want to be gentle and take care of him cause he’s your baby:(

you gently get him off of you and lay on your side to see him clearer.

“keigo baby… sleepy..?” He just nods and cuddles you closer hiding his face in your chest. You hold back a chuckle and continue to gently rub his back.

and the noises come back just more muffled.

“nnggh…~ mmh” you slide him up so you’re face to face with the blonde and look into his golden eyes.

you continue to massage his back and watch as he shudders at your touch, his eyes can’t stay open and his lips part slightly. He tries to hide himself but you shove your tongue into his mouth kissing him suddenly.

you dip one arm under him to continue touching his back while with the other you shove in his boxers and stroke his dick. he’s already moaning into the sloppy kiss, thrusting into your hand

“hmm…needy~” you coo going to bite into his neck.

“ah—! fffuck..!” he digs his nails into your shoulders, his wings twitch and he continues to moan and whimper into your ear.

he feels himself getting closer to coming, he tries pulling you off or getting your hand off him but you just continue to pump his throbbing cock.

“j-just like…that keep….g..going..~” he feels overwhelmed, the biting on his neck, his sensitive wings being caressed, the fast pace your hand has jerking him off.

“nnnhh.. imma..— AGH..!!” he let out a choked out moan as he came, his feathers fluffed up and he smiled going limp.

“uuughhh…ynnn…” he was catching his breath when he you started stroking again and he freaked out.

“ACK- YN STOPSTOP!! S..STOP AH~!!” his feathers sharpened and flapped going crazy, he squirmed and moaned even louder. you loved his sounds, you couldn’t stop

“your noises are so cute takami..” you say into his ear with a low voice. he’s quivering underneath you, trying to push you off. The overstimulation on his dick was driving him off the rails.

“haa-! fuckfuckfuck..~ sto..” he’s seeing stars, eyes struggling to stay open. you loved giving him unwanted pleasure, just to hear his whiny cries.

“I’ll fucking ruin you keigo..make sure you can’t walk tomorrow, those wings of yours will hurt from being touched so much..” his tongue lolled out, just the thought of it was making him weak for u.

You didn’t stop stroking him, it hurt quite a bit but the pain and pleasure mixed so well, he couldn’t get enough of it.

“yn p..please….” you slowed your pace and looked at his face, he was flushed and giving you the sluttiest fuck me eyes.

“I’ll give you my babies, pretty boy..”

a/n; plsss i will fuck him up UGHH

[ziosukiiii]

qimir finds a way to get you to join the dark side...

he holds your lucisious thighs back to capture the beauty of your fat pussy. using his fingers to pinch the beautiful brown mounds of your nipple, nipping and sucking them leaving little marks all around your body. he whispers sweet nothings in your ears whilst giving your swollen clit teasing licks. he loves watching you writhe and scurry under him, he needs it, he craves it. which is why most times to spicy things up he has you wear his mask, to deprive you of your senses and force you to feel things more intimately using the force. and he fucking loves it. he laughs watching grind your hips into nothingness until you are forced to use the force to push his head down into your needy little pussy thats gushing just for him. then from there he feasts. he nips and suck your needy little bud, his tongue occasionally teasing at your entrance... both of them😋. he slides fingers in your tight little cunt and quickly finds your g-spot, repeating proding at it. the sound of the wetness and your desperate moans fill the room. only further contributing to your wetness.

he whispers things like.

"fuck, this beautiful little pussy just for me"

"you're being such a good little slut f'me y'know that?"

"mmhm, just like that baby"

"you taste heavenly baby, i cant stop eating this perfect little pussy"

"you were made f'me baby, jus f'me"

and even after you come he wont stop. not until hes finished at least....

[mm-lurking]

Thinking of Blade. Thinking of Blade walking up to you from behind when you’re occupied. Thinking of how you absentmindedly take a step back only to feel his muscular chest pressed against your back. Thinking of how he’s shirtless and you can feel his bare skin against your clothed one. Thinking of how you can feel his body heat transfer to you despite the layers of fabric between you two. Thinking of the short, deep chuckle he lets out when you momentarily freeze when your realise it’s him. Thinking of how his breath fans over your neck when he leans towards your ear knowing it’s going to short-circuit you. Thinking of how he purposely messes with your heart by slowly placing his bandaged hand over your tiny one, intertwining his long slender fingers with your short stubby digits. Thinking of how he slowly speaks to you, his deep rumbling tone sending electric shocks down your body like a thunderstorm. Thinking of Blade and how his way of showing affection is subtle but dangerous to your heart.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

okay hear me out- SAGAU but with sea monster Foul Legacy

sea monster Foul Legacy who smells the golden blood in the water during one of his hunts, hastily swimming to catch the body floating in the sea. he's never seen you in person before, but oh- you're so familiar.

he brings you to shore, away from any cities- oh no, you're bleeding- and carefully pats your wounds with seagrass, fretting as he waits for you to wake up. what should he do- you're obviously the Creator, there's no doubt about it- why in the world are you so hurt?! why were you sinking into the sea, why hasn't Teyvat been celebrating your return, why-

Legacy chitters in surprise when you shift, letting out a few coughs and cracking open your eyes. with a strangled scream you shoot upright and try to scoot away from him, only for Legacy to lower his head and whine sadly. of course you wouldn't want to be around him, he's a monster. but your movements eventually slow, breathing heavily as the cuts sting and sear, and after a moment he tentatively dabs more seagrass against the injuries, trying to show that he means no harm. when he's sure that you won't struggle and accidentally hurt yourself, Legacy gently nudges you into a sitting position with a gentle trill.

he has to hold himself back from just staring in awe. his god, the Creator, is right here in front of him! but he can see the way you shiver, the gleaming blood staining your skin- you need care, not worship. so Foul Legacy shifts closer, gently settling his scaled tail over your legs and pressing his cheek against yours, feeling how you shudder in his arms like you've been running and screaming for years. you stiffen at first but quickly melt into his tender embrace, sniffing as relieved, exhausted tears begin to drip down your cheeks.

on that night, a god finally found an ocean of safety to call their own.

[fastboatsmojito]

tell me more about the sweet things Frank does pleeaassseee

ugh he’s suuuuch a sweetheart for someone who has every right to be a complete asshole to everyone <///3

Notes; hi guys I have so much other shit to write it’s actually laughable but this is what ur getting for now mostly because im unable to think about anyone else atm #sorry, enjoy!

he’s pretty old fashioned when it comes to most things; leaning his head back to look at you like you’re insane if you try to pay for anything, long legs striding right past you to open doors, a guiding hand on your waist when you’re walking together so you can keep up with him, etc. he’ll be damned if you ever do anything you don’t have to, always insistent on lending a large helping hand whenever you need one.

“Why don’t you just let me help you, huh? Always gotta have an attitude about it.” he made it sound so simple, like the act of him helping you clasp your necklace shouldn’t have you swooning like this, reeling in the rough callouses of his fingers against the back of your neck. of course he wasn’t really upset, shaking his head at your insistent remarks about being able to do it yourself. you could always tell when he was pushing you to accept the love he so thoughtfully handed to you, understanding when you needed a harsher tone or a soothing hand.

that’s just who he is; priding himself in keeping you safe and in the meantime securing every understanding he had of you in his mind, every fear, every goal, the things you’d dream about often enough to bring it up the next morning, he knew you and he knew what you needed, half the time before you knew it yourself. because that’s just who he is. that’s his job — at least that’s what he keeps telling you.

“I don’t have an attitude, but you don’t have to take care of me all the time, Frank. I can-“

“You can take care of yourself. Yeah yeah I know sweetheart, you’re real tough. I know it.” it was hard to look it right now, letting his arms squeeze around you, standing firm in your words as you melted into the strong shape of him behind you.

there were a million examples, and no matter how hard you tried to convince him, he’d do it again and again. coming back home after a rough day and cleaning himself up before picking you up from where you’d fallen asleep on the couch to take you to bed. ignoring the ache in his bones, hushing you with a kiss on your crown, and tucking you under the soft blankets ‘right where you belong’ because that’s just who Frank Castle is.

[erwinsvow]

hiiiii! okay thought

rafe and shy!reader but she has cuteness aggression so whenever rafe does something sweet she just bites him cause he’s so <3 and how else does one go about that

oh my god.. you spoke to my soul with this one ♡ this felt so intimate to write almost like we're all intruding on a moment btwn them

sometimes you can't believe rafe is your boyfriend. he's so... so. he's perfect for you, like he was crafted for you specifically, with the way he treats you. gentle, but firm. caring, but still bringing you out of your shell at times. he's the kind of guy girls dream about, and he's yours, and you feel so giddy about it you don't understand how to process it.

it's all the little things added up, the way he memorizes your orders so you don't have to talk to the waiters, the way he always finds a way to bring you into conversations with his friends so you're not the odd one out. he treats you like a princess, makes you feel like one.

you think it's the best when it's just the two of you, like today, alone in tannyhill. curled up in bed next to him, you read your book while he works on his laptop, looking at something he tried to explain to you before you gave up on paying attention.

you're a little enraptured with your book, not even noticing when rafe shuts his screen and puts it away.

"kid. kid."

"hm?" you look up, a little dazed. "oh, are you all done?"

"for now. how's your book?" the way he asks, you feel like there's nothing rafe cares about more in the world than the book in your hands and how it makes you feel.

"it's good," you say quietly, staring up at him still.

"good. read some to me, hm?" he closes his eyes, lying back against the pillow. you feel your heart warm, your face flush. you lean against his chest, opening your book back up and starting to recite while rafe wraps his arm around your shoulder.

"-and elinor, who now understood her sister, and saw to-to she was carried by her eagerness to to be with willoughby again.."

you stop reading, looking up at rafe with his eyes closed. you move your head, teeth biting down gently on his arm. his eyes shoot open, while you giggle against the skin.

"what the fuck, kid-"

"sorry. i couldn't resist. i just love you so much." you bury your head into his chest, your book and its page getting lost in the sheets. you resist the urge to bite his chest too.

"so y'have to bite me? jesus. gonna get you a muzzle." he presses a kiss to the crown of your hair, holding you tighter. "i love you too."

[ventique18]

Grim probably has no concept of romance and intimacy so he's forever a clueless third-wheeler who will absolutely cockblock you at any given opportunity.

So whenever 🐉🌸 are starting to get a bit touchy, Grim would just barge into the room from wherever he came from, shouting "HEY, I'm starving!"

🌸 would instantly pull away from 🐉, but he'd refuse to let them go until Grim hops onto the bed and excitedly bounces between them.

🐱: "Dinner time! Dinner time! Hornton, you gonna stay for some grubs too?"

🐉: "I would... gladly take on that offer. I suppose."

🐱: "Well you gotta contribute dessert then! No such thing as a free meal. Come on henchman!"

🐱: "Why're you in your undies though?"

🌸, grabbing a pillow as a shield: "Get, get out of my room first--"

🐱: "'Kaaay."

🐱: "Let's go Hornton! We gotta start whipping up those cakes!"

🐉 just sighs, picks up his shirt, and lets the cat monster awkwardly drag him by the leg.