#sumn slight sumn slight

[mobwhim]

missed them

[sh1mmer-add1ct]

gonna draw Ghostface except y'all ain't know who it's supposed to be

[wereverine]

would love if my brain would enjoy it's stay in my skull instead of acting like a college freshman with their first hangover

[asbestieos]

i hit post limit im in extreme pain 😭

anyways look at an ox yuzuru one of servermates had me draw

(i hope the constant asks aren't annoying sorry i get paranoid :p)

not the post limit 💔 but HELLO OXYUZU!! i cant think of a name pun for jim.. yuzuru fushimi.. oximi.. this is hard

also YOU DO NOT WORRY i love asks ganomnom nom ^-^

[belayadeath-goner]

* @dyavolvich said : ❛ some risks are worth taking . ❜

she's gazing through an open hole in the wall that likely once was a window, overlooking a city darkened by nightfall. a building long abandoned, cleared of all memory and heart ( much like the one's she'd occupied when she was a kid ), and tonight the location of their meeting. “  but are they worth dying for?  ” she finally spoke after some contemplation, and instead turned to face him. БАБА ЯГА. she recognized some of herself in him, if even merely the flicker of a shadow, it still urged a heaved in breath. “  do you realize what you're asking? it's no simple gamble, nor slight risk.  ” should things go sideways, it was her life. her freedom. most importantly, herself. “  if things go wrong ... i'm not going back there. i can't.  ”

[nxmuzluv]

@speuradair i love how u say requests r open then nearly a month goes by and we get nothing but crickets /lh

[eyeheartboobiez]

nicknames that bruce + the batboys would call you

warnings: sexual themes in jason’s part, fem!reader a/n: just sumn slight. enjoy😁

⁎⁺˳ 𝒷𝓇𝓊𝒸𝑒 ミ

❀ bruce grew up wealthy so he would definitely call you something more on the classy side

❀ things like darling, angel, dear, my love, etc.

❀ he also has a habit of referring to you as “my wife” (because he’s possessive asf)

❀ “sorry guys, i really can’t stay for another drink. i’ve got to get back to my wife.”

❀ “you said these shoes were dior? oh, im sure my wife would love these.”

❀ on the flip side, he also really likes referring to himself as your husband (one might say he does it for the ego boost)

❀ like whenever you too are meeting someone for the first time, he'll introduce you first and then only introduce himself as "your husband"

❀ because why should someone care about him, a mega rich billionaire, when his lovely and radiant wife is standing right next to him?

⁎⁺˳ 𝒹𝒾𝒸𝓀 ミ

❀ dick would definitely be the type to call you something super lovey-dovey and over the top

❀ sugarplum, honey bunches, buttercup, (and if he really wants to get on your nerves,) shnookums

❀ he knows it’s lame, but he genuinely doesn’t care

❀ since his love language is acts of service, you tend to hear a lot of "let me get that for ya, honeybun"

❀ or something like “hey sugarplum! im on my way home from work, you want me to pick up anything?”

❀ or even "don't worry about dinner honeylove, lemme take care of things tonight."

❀ regardless of how annoying it is, you can't help but love his teasing nicknames for you

❀ like you two are that annoying couple that everyone loves can't stand seeing at the function (i know valentine's day hatesss to see yall coming)

❀ off topic but if the two of you had a kid together, i imagine him nicknaming your daughter ‘love bug’ (AWWW)

⁎⁺˳ 𝒿𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃 ミ

❀ despite his thick exterior, jason’s a lover boy at heart

❀ he’d call you stuff like babe, doll, sweetheart, hon, y’know all that cheesy stuff

❀ most importantly though, this boy lovesss to call you mama

❀ like for example, he usually likes to greet you with a casual "hey mama, you doin okay?" followed by a quick peck on the check

❀ or if you're being goofy trying to get him to feel better, he'll probably say something like "c'mon mama, cut it out" as a smile inevitably blossoms on his face

❀ alongside this, he also has a weird kink thing for calling himself papa

❀ either “thatsss it sweetheart, come to papa” or “let papa bear handle it, ‘kay? you just sit down there and look pretty f’me.”

❀ you have absolutely no idea where he got it from because jason swears up and down that he's never done it until he got in a relationship with you

⁎⁺˳ 𝓉𝒾𝓂 ミ

❀ while tim is such a sweetheart, so his pet names for you would most definitely reflect that

❀ sweets, pretty, baby love, cutie; simple stuff like that

❀ also, let’s not forget that this boy is a certified LEWSER, so that also shows within you guys’ relationship

❀ he sometimes calls you pookie (he’s chronically online…)

❀ he'd probably be up texting you at 2am (because why wouldn’t be be up at that time) and is like “hey pooks u wanna check out this new italian place i found? i saw that they serve a few of ur faves”

❀ he also has a nasty habit of referring to you as dude or bro

❀ you'll often get random tiktoks from him throughout the day like "bro look this is totally us" or "me & u fr🥹"

❀ sure it's corny but the sentiment is sweet so you don't really mind

❀ a lot of people think the relationship you both have may be a bit odd, but neither of you care (and that's all that matters <3)

[hoshifighting]

i’m not even going anon for this because i have NO SHAME for what i am about to ask

i can’t stop thinking about gamer woo… and better yet i can’t stop thinking about what sucking him off under his desk would be like while he’s playing.. 🫠

so lyla i am asking you to PLSSSS write something smutty about gamer!woo if you would be so kind 🥲☝🏻 just sumn about getting him hot and bothered and distracted while he’s gaming (& trying not to stutter and moan into his mic) has me going absolutely bonkers

i know i can trust u with this

giving gamer!wonwoo blowjob as he plays WARNINGS: smut, semi-public sex, blowjob, cum eating, mentions of body fluids (spit/cum)

you’re crouched under wonwoo’s desk, back pressed awkwardly against the leg of his chair, knees scraping the hard floor as you breathe out a quiet laugh. the low hum of his voice drifts from above, a steady stream of half-bored conversation with his teammates. there’s something about the way he talks when he’s gaming—always little impatient. his fingers click furiously over the keys, and his jaw clenches when something doesn’t go his way. it makes him feel untouchable.

and you’ve made it your personal mission to fuck with that.

“fuckin’ idiots, just push left,” he mutters, eyes fixed on the screen, completely oblivious to the fact that your hands are already sneaking up his thighs, fingers teasing at the waistband of his joggers. you feel him tense, the sudden shift of his body as your nails drag lightly against his skin, just under the fabric. his focus doesn’t break, though, not yet.

you grin.

“yah—keep up with the heals, come on,” he snaps, trying to maintain some kind of composure, but you hear the slight hitch in his breath when your fingers dip lower.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he mutters breathless, but the mic isn’t muted, and the noise from his teammates drowns it out.

you don’t answer. instead, you tug his joggers down just enough to free him, your fingers wrapping around his half-hard cock, feeling him twitch in your hand. it’s satisfying, the way his body reacts before his mind even catches up. you hear his breath stutter, like he’s trying to keep the sounds inside, trying to keep some shred of control.

“mmph—yeah, yeah, just push, we can still win this,” he’s saying to the team, voice tight, and you almost feel bad for him. almost.

but then you lean in, let your tongue drag along his length, slow and wet, and you feel him jolt in his chair, his hand gripping the edge of the desk like it’s the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

“fuck,” he whispers, quieter this time, more for you than the game.

you smile against his skin, lips brushing over the sensitive head, and then you take him into your mouth, slowly, savoring the way his thighs tremble under your hands, the way his breath catches in his throat.

“w-wait—shit,” he stammers, and you hear the faint confusion from his teammates on the other end of the mic. you’d laugh if your mouth wasn’t full, if you weren’t so focused on making him lose his mind.

his hands are gripping the desk so hard now, knuckles white, his hips twitching involuntarily as you work your tongue along his length, hollowing your cheeks, sucking just hard enough to make him curse under his breath.

“wonwoo, you... good? you’re like…really quiet, man.”

he doesn’t respond right away, too busy biting his lip, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to keep it together. it’s almost pathetic how hard he’s trying not to break.

“yeah,” he finally grits out, voice strained, “i’m fine. just—focus on the game.”

you chuckle around his cock, the vibrations making him hiss through his teeth, his hips bucking up slightly into your mouth. you let him, taking him deeper, tongue swirling around the head every time you pull back, slow, teasing, like you’ve got all the time in the world to make him come inside your mouth.

“i swear to god, if you don’t stop—” he starts, but the threat dies in his throat when you hum again, pressing him deeper into your mouth, watching his hand fly to his headset, muting his mic with a shaky breath.

he sets the headset aside with a hasty clatter, both of his hands moving down to grab fistfuls of your hair. you feel the shift immediately—the control he’s trying to take back, the dominance that flares up when you push him too far. his fingers are rough as they tangle at the roots, pulling you just enough to make your scalp tingle, but not enough to hurt. you groan at the pressure, letting him guide your head, and that seems to light something inside him. his hips roll up into your mouth, savoring the feeling of your lips wrapped around him.

the chair squeaks under his shifting weight, the soft creak of it barely audible over the wet sounds of your mouth working him over. you’re drooling now, the spit gathering at the corners of your lips, dripping down your chin, resting on his crotch, but you don’t care—you know how much it gets to him when you make it

you glance up at him, eyes rolling back, letting your expression go slack and fucked out—just like he loves it, and that’s when you hear it—his sharp intake of breath, the way he swears under it. it’s like he’s trying so hard to be a strong soldier, but you know him, know that look in his eyes.

“fuck—” he groans, his hips bucking up harder into your mouth, his fingers twisting tighter in your hair, practically holding you in place as he starts moving faster, forcing you to take him deeper.

your hands grip his thighs for balance, feeling the tense muscles under your fingers, the way his body is so close to snapping. every move unraveling as his thrusts get more desperate, more reckless. the squeak of the chair is constant now, a chaotic rhythm that matches the way he’s fucking your mouth, the sound punctuated by his shaky breaths and low curses.

“shit—you’re too fucking good at this,” he pants, eyes wwild as he stares down at you, his voice almost whiny, “look at you, drooling all over me…fuckin’ filthy.”

you moan around him, the sound muffled but still loud enough to vibrate through him, and he jerks, hips stuttering as he struggles to hold back. his grip on your hair tightens, and for a moment, you think he’s going to let go, let himself come in your mouth—but he doesn’t.

instead, he pulls you off him suddenly, your lips slick with spit and precum, and your breath comes in short gasps. before you can even question it, his hand wraps around his own cock, slick with everything you’ve left behind, and he starts stroking himself fast, the way he likes it.

his other hand grips the back of your head, holding you close, forcing you to watch as he jerks himself off right in front of you, his breath coming out in rough pants, the muscles in his arm flexing with every stroke. you can’t help but let your tongue dart out, licking at the head every time his hand moves down, teasing him.

“gonna cum, fuck—gonna cum all over your pretty fucking face,” he growls, his voice desperate. you open your mouth wide, tongue out, eyes locked on his, and the sight of you like that, so eager for him, makes him roll your eyes.

he groans loudly, his whole body shaking as he spills across your face, thick ropes of cum splattering over your lips, your tongue, your chin. you swallow what you can, but the rest drips down, mixing with the mess already on your skin. his hand keeps stroking, milking out every last drop, until he’s twitching from oversensitivity, his breathing ragged.

he watches you for a moment, panting, chest heaving, and then—without a word—he leans down, his thumb swiping across your chin, gathering the cum that dripped there, and pushes it back into your mouth.

“swallow it all, baby,” he says, and you do, your tongue curling around his thumb as you swallow everything he’s given u.

he smirks, pulling you up by the hair and pressing a lazy, messy kiss to your lips, his cum still lingering on both your tongues. when he finally pulls back, he looks at you like you’ve just become his favorite fucking person in the world.

“next time,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear, “i’m fucking you on the chair.”

you grin, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb.

[weltraum-vaquero]

i was scrolling through pinterest and i came across a prompt: “i can’t focus with your damn hand on my— ooh..” i IMMEDIATELY thought of jayce 🫢 can i request sumn like that? i love your work so much 😭😭

Hi anon, this prompt drove me insane. Thank you so much!

Play (dirty)

Jayce Talis x GN Reader

Summary: A fancy play at the Piltover Opera is a good excuse as any to deck out. And an even better excuse to have some fun with your partner.

Word count: 2.5k

MDNI. Mature content under the cut.

Tags: Sub Jayce, slight exhibitionism, dry handjobs, heavy petting, alcohol consumption

Jayce could never stand still. There’s something in him that’s constant, restless, relentless. Always the type to fiddle, to twirl his pen between his fingers, to scratch at his own scruff in thought, to chew the inside of his cheek, to bounce his leg. His mind is a hyperactive, brilliant thing; equal parts blessing and curse.

He does it now, too — bouncing his leg, that is, under the fine silk of his prettiest burgundy slacks (his ass, though nothing to write home about, never failed to look tremendous in those. Something about the thin, generously revealing material seaming to the humble curve of his ass in a salacious display). Jayce taps his fingers on the sturdy oakwood of the theatre chair as he stares at the still lowered curtain, crosses his legs, sighs, uncrosses them, bounces his leg again.

It’s the final stretch of the second intermission, though the play isn’t particularly doing it for you, mainly because you’ve seen this exact rendition before, with Jayce at your side. Just… not from up here: an opulently designed balcony, all to yourselves, just shy of the stage. Generous courtesy of Salo for a favor taken rather than given from Jayce, a situation that’s been stressing him out something fierce these past few weeks. You digress. That’s not what matters anymore — he’s earned a break. He’s earned something good.

It’s a lovely opportunity to spend some time with him outside of the confines of his lab or your shared home, which is growing increasingly rare. It’s a lovely opportunity to put on your shiniest clothes and make a pretty sight for one another.

Undeniably, that’s been the best aspect of it. Jayce has been sneaking looks at you the whole time — perhaps bored with the play, perhaps too enticed with you. And you can’t exactly blame him, because you’re not doing much better either. 

How are you meant to do anything when you have a much more captivating sight to take in, sitting tensely in the chair next to yours?

A dark shirt that hugs the proud swell of his chest just right (certainly something to write home about), a pretty burgundy jacket just the same warm colour as the fruity merlot he’s finished sipping on, lingering on his plump lips. Silk curling at the seams, stretching under the heft of his now thicker thighs as they rest on the seat, tie loosened just so, and he’s good enough to eat. 

You lay a warm hand on the inside of his leg, and Jayce, as he always does, yields. Less on thought, more on instinct, always so eager, before he turns to look at you with a question in amber eyes gone chocolatey dark in the low light of the room.

“Hm?” 

His cologne hits you in a peppery-sweet, floral wave as he leans in, leans closer, and gives you the attention you’re so clearly demanding.

“Should I get us more wine?” You make feeble conversation, more eager to hear his voice than his thoughts. He’s been sharing most of them in whispers throughout the play so far as is. 

Jayce shakes his head, flashes a conspiratorial, boyish little smirk. “If I have any more, I might um,” he breaks out in a short, clearly tipsy giggle, “do something I really shouldn’t be doing up here.”

His hand finds yours, pinkies twining together in a near juvenile but vulnerable display of his affection, a plea for affection. And, oh, his eyes, though his pupils are blown wide, glitter mischievously like a cat’s about to pounce. Two can play that game… 

“Mm. That would be a terrible look on you,” you emptily agree. “Think of the headlines… Man of Progress caught moaning during Winter Solstice play, Man of Progress bent over the railing on the opera’s most lavish balcony…”

Jayce nods, a little drunkenly. Leans in for a kiss before he breathes: “Terrible.”

You let him have it — how could you not? Let him sloppily lick at your mouth like an overeager puppy for a long, dizzying, smooth-merlot attempt at a kiss. He smiles into it, as if in thanks.

Before you give a gentle little push at the plush swell of his chest with your other hand, pacing him, pulling away to leave him in a dazed little stupor. His breath hits your now slick lips in a warm, wet brush.

“Intermission’s about to end.” You pat his thigh less sensually, more like you’d pat an obedient dog for a trick well done. “Better keep quiet and focus on the third act.”

It looks like it pains him to settle back into his velvet seat, so you leave your hand on the top of his now still thigh — a reminder, a promise. It keeps Jayce on his toes more than the narrative unfolding before you does. Well worked sinew draws so tight you can feel it vibrate even under the soft layer of plush fat on his thighs, and as the action in the play begins to find its inevitable build, you find your hand wandering. 

Just to the inside of his thigh, first, where he’s softer, which he gladly offers up to you. Fingers draw patterns more intricate than the paisley on his vest, until poor, tormented Jayce begins to shift in his velvet seat. Tilts his hips this way, then that, then readjusts his whole frame in the seat with an awkward clear of his throat when it creaks.

The rich tones of a singular violin crescendos in sync with the dip of your hand further, up, up, until you reach that tense tendon on the inside of his leg, where his thigh seams to his hip.

And further inwards, his straining cock nudges the back of your knuckles through the silk of his pants. Jayce jumps with the contact… Poor, poor thing.

“Aw, Jayce...” It’s both pity and reprimand, a whisper so low he can barely hear it. The flesh of his thigh spills from between squeezing fingers; it has him lowering his head in shame and trying to breathe through it. If not for the sacred quiet of the imposing room, for the performers playing their instruments as deftly as you’re about to play him, he would have at the very least whined for it. A low, pleading, dog-like sound.

Instead, he shoots you a look. Desperate and dazed and wide-eyed all at once in the dark of the room, before it turns into a kind of anger that does not and will not bite. Nibbles on you like an angry puppy, more like.

“How d-do you expect me to focus when your damn hand is—“ and you give him what he wants, “o-oh.”

Grabbing a handful of the straining outline of his dick through his pants, rubbing just once, from the wet patch on the tip to as far down as the silk allows.

“Better?” You ask.

Jayce breathes a terrified, shivering sigh.

“I don’t know,” he whispers.

“I can stop,” you remind. He knows it to be the truth intimately; though he aches to please to a fault, Jayce has learned a thing or two about respecting his own boundaries by now. You trust that if he needs you to, he will give you the word.

“Don’t.” Armrests gripped so tight they could splinter, eager hips raise off the theatre seat to chase your hand until your palm cradles his leaky tip once more. Wide eyes flutter closed and cherry slick lips part in a muted expression of bliss.

“Then don’t make a mess,” you breathe into his ear. “And keep quiet. Can you do that, baby?”

Jayce nods desperately, and does a surprisingly great job at swallowing another moan as you twirl your fingertips around what should be the crown of his cock, silk gliding under your hand akin to well oiled skin. He lets it happen gladly, spreads his legs in welcoming especially when you reach further down, until the dainty weight of his balls sits cupped in the groove of your palm. There, you linger, simply holding him where he’s most sensitive, unmoving.

Jayce exhales shakily, baby doe eyes flicking between you and the hand between his legs in questioning, in hope. The soft, still cradle of your palm turns greedy as you feel him up, fingertips curling around the heft of his bulge, his cock pressing into your hand. All of him trembles with how he stifles a gasp into the back of his fist.

You simply knead at him idly, the way a satisfied cat would as it purrs, and make a show of diverting your attention back to the play you couldn’t care less about. It gets him off, in some capacity, to be touched but not paid attention to. It had made him soil his pants so quick, once, simply letting him have his pleasure against your thigh while you were busy with a book, and it’s a technique you employ on occasion since. Coupled with the fact that Jayce, touchy and needy as he is, hasn’t gotten much chance at release lately, you know for certain he will find it now, and fast. 

The glossy silk has gone sticky wet at the very tip of his dick, so much so it even leaves your hand damp after an indulgent squeeze at it. Below, horns blare with the oncoming climax of the play, music daunting in its grandeur even from up so high. In spute of such an enticing distraction at hand, you can’t help but marvel at them as you palm Jayce’s cock. And you recognize the melody the very next moment, the thrill of hearing it for the very first time; just as you know the end Jayce is approaching with intimate familiarity, so do you remember the next part of the play. 

It will go quiet for a long, breathtaking moment to draw the audience to the edge of their seats, the calm before the storm — and Jayce, judging by the sweat on his brow, the way he almost tears into the back of his fist with his canines, Jayce will not, cannot be quiet.

The realization must hit him at the same time as it hits you, because his free hand grabs yours in a death grip, a decidedly desperate attempt at halting the inevitable. 

“S-stop,” he whispers, his lips meeting on the p just moments before the entire orchestra quiets. 

You can hear every bated inhale in the grandiose room — but none of them as sweet as Jayce’s. The whole room buzzes, alight with the anticipation of the audience. 

Jayce squeezes your hand vehemently, like the weight of his barely contained orgasm threatens to crush him. His thighs clench around your hand, his body curls, he exhales in a silent cry, before he presses his hand to his lips so hard it makes you wince. You lean in close enough to be able to hear his thoughts, let him hide his face in the fabric on your shoulder.

“Breathe,” you coo at him like he’s in pain, stroking your thumb up, then down the aching outline of his cock. It makes his hips jump. “Once the music starts again, I’ll take care of you.”

You can feel him nod his head against your shoulder, can feel his grip slacken, can hear the tension in the room crackling like lightning when a violin starts a short-lived solo that is soon joined by the rest of the orchestra in a tsunami.

Jayce lets go of your hand, spreads his legs as if to offer himself up on a silver platter to you — full, complete trust. You slip the buttons of his pants out of their eyelets fast, aided by the near oily slipperiness of the fabric, the press of his cock, which have the front flap popping open the rest of the way.

Your hand slides down the bump of his soft, fuzzy tummy, into his pants, his underwear, easily, because it’s warm, familiar territory. Cradling all he’s worth in your hand, you scoop both his cock and his balls from the confines of the silk, laying them out vulnerable and exposed to the cold air.

It forces a gasp from Jayce, fortunately lost to the music, instinctually going to cover himself with both hands at the sensation and the prospect of being at the mercy of such a grand, full room.

“I’ve got you,” you remind him. Deft hands reach for his breast pocket, stealing away his handkerchief from him. Even dazed like this, Jayce understands your intention easily, and wins another battle against his instincts as he lets his hands fall away from where they’re cupped over himself protectively. One hand fists the silk of his pants, and the other wraps around your forearm not in guidance, but in seeking, of your presence, of you, grounding himself.

Jayce goes perfectly still as you stroke his dry cock, from root to swollen tip. It can’t be satisfying, you know so by just the feel of your hand around him, the way his foreskin drags with the grip you have on him, up, over his leaky cockhead, then down, exposing him where he’s most sensitive. It can’t be good, but it’s enough, because Jayce whines, quiet and half-terrified as he hides his face against your shoulder, before he goes rigid with your next upward stroke. 

And you do that thing he likes so much — his tip’s smeared in enough of his precum to facilitate an overstimulating twist of your palm around just the ruddiness of his crown. His mouth falls open in a silent wail.

Jayce is so easy. Shoots his load into the handkerchief you bring up to his cock just in time, lets you milk all his overwhelming orgasm’s worth into the fabric until he can’t help but clench his thighs around your still moving hand. Trembles in time with his twitching cock as you wipe the strings of cum off his sticky, swollen cockhead and stuff the handkerchief back into his breast pocket.

The orchestra quiets once more, for good this time, and the audience’s applause roars. There won’t be much time until the lights come on, so you make quick work of tucking him back into his pants, and once Jayce regains some of his mental footing, he helps you button them back up.

Just in time — the lights blind you, but not as much as he does. Sitting low in his seat, slick with sweat, disheveled in his best clothes, and smiling at you so wide and dopey he shines, Jayce is brighter than any light, any sun. His chest rises and falls at a fierce, breakneck pace as he catches his breath.

You lean in to grant him a well deserved kiss to the cheek, one he chases with his mouth instead, and smiles into when you lick what remains of the by now long dried merlot from the ridges of his lips.

It makes him smile wider, a blush that matches his suit perfectly blooms on his cheeks. He takes the hand you’d stroked him with, intertwines your fingers like the lovesick fool that he is. You squeeze back, like the lovesick fool that you are, and can’t help but gaze into his eyes even as the eager applause slowly fizzles out.

“They clapped for the wrong performance,” you whisper to him. “You were far more glorious than any play.”

[leeyztb]

I think bakugou needed to be a little more honest with himself throughout the series because he's actually THE biggest shouto supporter there ISSSS.

like "oh I don't care about him," but you decided to change your approach when dealing with troublesome kids because you remembered how he was raised and wanted to take his feelings and past into consideration..

you were also trying to lighten up his mood by making a slight joke when he had to face his brother??

AND you were the first person cheering him on when he won the fight??

you're a liar. I also saw you stop dead in your tracks and wait for him to catch up to you..

finally, after everything, you now sit next to him like you guys are best friends or some shit. probably even gossip or sumn.

but yeah ok. you don't care 🤷🏽‍♀️

[nina-ya]

Imagine teaching Law how to kiss because we all know his experience is minimal 🫣 (don’t know how much you’ll agree with me on that) and teasing him while he’s bright red while you just smile at him adoringly 🥰🥰🥰

okay okay okay okay I thought about this a little too much I just love the idea of teaching an inexperienced partner and jssjjrjdnfnf I wrote a lil sumn!!!

It started as a joke, really, a comment about his lack of experience was supposed to just be one of those little teasing comments that you threw his way on a random Tuesday afternoon. But the way Law’s ears went pink as he tried claiming that he's ‘very’ experienced, says it all. Naturally, you called him out on his bullshit, and before he could stammer out another lie, you leaned in with that infuriatingly teasing smile of yours and asked if he’d like a few pointers.

Law rolled his eyes and scoffed, muttering, “I don’t need lessons,” but even he didn’t seem fully convinced by his own words, and somehow, here he was, seated next to you in his quarters, a little too close for comfort.

He was all nerves, fingers drumming against his knee. You couldn’t help but smile, reaching over and gently taking his chin, your thumb brushing the faint scruff along his jawline. “Relax,” you murmured, keeping your voice reassuring. “It’s just a kiss. Don’t overthink it.”

As you leaned in, you noticed his breath catch, his posture locked in place, but he didn’t pull away. His lips were soft, warm but stiff against yours as he remained unsure of himself. The hesitation on his part was endearing, and you could feel him trying to mimic your movements.

You pulled back with a small chuckle, eyes gleaming as you looked at him. “Not bad…” you teased, letting your fingers trace his cheekbone. “But you’re trying too hard to make it perfect. Just relax and feel it.”

The tips of his ears flared red as he forced out a breath he had been holding in. “I am relaxed,” he muttered back defensively, though you could point out that lie from a mile away.

You moved back in, lips brushing against his, capturing his lips once more and you could feel the tension dissolve slightly as he leaned into the kiss. In his eagerness, he leaned forward too quickly and bumped his forehead against yours, the impact enough to pull you both back with a startled laugh.

A ‘sorry’ quickly tumbled out of his mouth but you just cupped his cheek, coaxing him to look back at you, your eyes gleaming with reassurance as you stared at his tomato-red features. “That was cute, you know.”

He huffed out, forcing out a smirk to hide his embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah,” This time, as he leaned back in, he did so much more carefully, lips finding yours that held the smallest spark of confidence.

You melted into the kiss, feeling him loosen up as one of his hands slid to the back of your neck, his grip tighter than you anticipated. There was a moment of clumsiness– a slight clashing of teeth as he overcompensated– but he quickly corrected himself, moving slower, his lips finally softening and molding to yours as he let go of some of the restraint.

Encouraged, you deepened the kiss, your hand slipping to his collar to pull him closer. He surprised you, surging forward in an eager and impulsive response. A surprised noise escaped his throat at his own actions, but that didn’t stop him from leaning into you and reveling in this so-called teaching moment. It was messy and awkward in places, but it was genuine.

You only parted when your lungs desperately needed air, and he kept his face close to yours as if he was ready to go right back in. He was looking at you with a dazed, almost surprised expression as though he hadn’t expected this to feel so… right.

You smiled at him, tracing your thumb along his jawline. “See? I knew you had it in you.”

He huffed attempting to regain his composure, but it was hard to look indifferent when he was practically glowing with embarrassment. “You’re impossible,” he replied, though you swear you could see a hint of a smile breaking through as he said that.

“And you’re cute when you blush,” you countered, biting back a grin as his cheeks deepened in color. You quickly move in to steal another kiss, any protests he may have had melting away as he returns the kiss with a fervor that makes you wonder if this is still truly a lesson, or if he is giving into some more hidden desires.

[yngtort]

— testing 1! 2!

chan | lino | changbin | hyun | jisung | lix | seungmin | jeongin | ot8

NSFW ★

──────────

Xfem!reader straykids reactions to you : tapping the tip and saying “is this mic on???” Mdni • humiliation • degrading • slight dumbification (laugh guys it’s supposed to be funny)

Nsfw under !!

bangchan! Finds it funny as hell. He’s such a sucker for corny jokes, even when he’s painfully hard, dick leaking precum all over your lips.

“Trust me baby, the mics been turned on from the moment you walked in dressed like that.” he’d say before tapping your chin, “now open wide.”

Minho! Blinks a couple times, before he lets out that little puff of air that he does before his lips turn up into a smirk. “That’s real cute and all,” he says grabbing your hair and pulling your head back, “but let’s use your mouth for more productive things, yeah?”

changbin! Doesn’t even get the joke at first. Too excited to get sucked bone dry, you should’ve known that it would go straight over his head. “y/n-ah, you know I can’t focus on two things at once” he’d whine, nudging his dick against your cheek, “explain it to me later, Kay?”

But you won’t be able to speak a single word after he fucked your throat raw.

hyunjin! shuts you up with his dick immediately. He’s so fed up with your constant yapping, never taking anything seriously. “Your mouth is the reason you’re down there in the first place,” he bites as he shoves himself deeper, “stop acting dumb and learn when you need to be heard.”

Jisung! Is more amused than you thought he would be. You watch from your position under his desk as Soft snickers fall from his lips. “Since you’re having so much fun,” he starts, spreading his legs wider to give you more room to sit between them, “lets up the ante and see if you can sing a song with my mic down your throat.”

Felix! eyes light up hearing your words, micheavous smirk growing on his lips and you inadvertently gulp. “this mic sn’t working at the moment,” he says before pulling out his phone, flash flicking on, bright and beaming. “But this one works perfectly. Go on, show the guys how loud and sloppy you get.”

Seungmin! Presses his lips into a the thinnest line he can muster. Your joke completely blows his mood, making him push your head away. “On the bed,” He instructed and you comply, no questions asked. “We’re gonna skip the foreplay tonight. I need to fuck the stupidity out of you.”

Jeongin! Is sooo confused but laughs anyways, not wanting to let you know he doesn’t get what you’re saying. you obviously notice his ignorance which makes you want to tease him more. Taking his member into you hand and singing a song, lips brushing against the tip and making him whimper. “S-stop it. I get it, I get it!” he’d cry out, bucking his hips desperately. “No more jokes, y/n. I need you s’bad.”

Nnii : just a lil sumn bc I was bored :D !! Hope you liked it <3.

Tinaytag (comment to be added) : @sydnerss @sunnyyangie @panjakes @foxinnie8 @inniescandy-01 @luvyev @hyunjinhoexxx @caitlyn98s

[nadiahshaven]

we leavin

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summary : you and connie at a party, and he gotta correct your smart mouth.

content : connie x f!reader. reader is black-coded. mention of connie being a drug dealer. pieck is a fruit feen. choking. slight nsfw mention. connie fine ass got a thumb ring. cant think of nothing else.

wc : 851.

a/n : this was jus sumn i wrote up quick asf bc i wanna update real bad LOL. lmk if yall want an extended smut ver. enjoy!

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you knew connie, and you knew he wasn’t the type to let up on you when you acted out. whether it was because you couldn’t watch your mouth, or because you simply forgot who you were dealing with, your dope boy was there to reel you back in every time.

“watch that mouth, ma.”

“keep fuckin’ playin wit’ me, (y/n), and i’ma give ya’ ass exactly what’chu lookin’ fa’.”

never was this more apparent than the night you had the audacity to try and push your luck in front of your best friend.

you and connie got invited to a kickback at his best friend, ony’s house. ony was the easygoing, fun kind of dude that perfectly balanced out connie’s sort of reserved personality. any time connie was out, you knew he was with ony. any time there was a party of any kind, you knew ony was hosting.

the two of you walked into the loud party, scrunching your faces up a bit in unison at the intensity of the bass of future’s ‘march madness’ blasting throughout the house. you kind of expected the volume, due to the fact that you heard the music while you were outside. it didn’t help that everyone was singing the lyrics with their entire chest, either.

pushing through the crowd to get to some sort of rest spot, ony caught you two.

“aye!” he yelled, catching you and connie’s attention.

connie walked you two over, hand on your waist so he wouldn’t lose you, over to the drink table where ony was previously mingling with some other guys.

“you got this shit jumpin’, ony!” you chuckled, voice raised a bit higher over the music.

“it’s what i dooo.” ony shrugged, pearly whites on full display as a smile painted his dark, plump lips. “i’m jus’ that nigga.”

“yea’, yea.” connie intervened. “i can’t wait for the day you throw a jaint and nobody show up fa’ ya’ ass.”

“never gon’ happen.” ony simply said.

before connie could give a very aggressive rebuttal, you peeped your own best friend, pieck, over in the kitchen snacking on fruit that she knew was supposed to go into the punch. you decided it’d be best to leave ony and connie to their madness in favor of making your way over to her, strike up some conversation.

“pieckkk!” you opened your arms, barreling toward her in a hug. due to her scrolling on her phone while eating the fruit, she didn’t notice you were about to tackle her, until you did. she engulfed you back into the same, tight, hug you gave her.

“my heartyy-“ pieck smiled, leaving a quick smack on your plump ass as you two pulled away from the hug, to which you chuckled in response. “bitch, yo’ ass look good as fuck in’nat dress. how connie ain’t act up?”

“girl, i don’t know.” you rolled your eyes. “he choose when to appreciate me.”

pieck snickered, going back to eating the fruit she was almost done with at this point. you and pieck engaged in catching up with each-other. ranging from talking about your relationships, to simply rating people’s fits that you saw around the party.

you didn’t realize how much time passed, and a hand snaked around your waist— which caught you off guard. before you could turn around to flip out, a familiar, silver thumb ring with your initials engraved into it grabbed your eye. it was connie, and by the look in his eye when you turned your head towards him, he was ready to leave.

you ignored it though, given you were in the middle of a conversation with your best friend.

“mami.” connie called you.

“what, connie?” you responded, with a bit more attitude in your voice. he decided to give you this one pass, because he did kind of interrupt you in the middle of a sentence.

“i’m ready to leave.”

“you gon’ have to wait.”

pieck tried to pretend she was minding her business, starting to scroll through nothing on her phone.

“(y/n), i don’t got time for the bullshit. let’s go.” connie put a bit more firmness to his voice. this is where you would usually oblige, but you wanted to see how far you could go in public. he wouldn’t do much in front of all of these people, right?

“like i said,” you mistakenly repeated, with your back still turned to him. “you gon’ have to wai—“

you couldn’t finish your sentence before he grabbed you by your throat from behind you, leaning down to your ear.

“let me have ta’ repeat myself for a third time, and watch how fast i put’cho ass over my shoulder.”

you couldn’t respond, for the simple fact that you knew anything you were gonna say, would not help your case. so, he continued.

“bein’ hardheaded won’t get’chu nowhere except on ya’ knees, ma. now lem’me make sure you hear me loud ‘nd clear when i say this.” his lips were tickling the outside of your ear, making your body hotter than you wanted it to.

“we leavin’.”

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property of @nadiahshaven.

continuation -> good girl

[iamgonnagetyouback]

HEYYY LOVEIEE i got sumn in the trope corners its best friend to lovers with Mattheo riddle im sucker for this trope with him even though its not that common

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒

The Great Hall was transformed into something otherworldly, the usual golden glow replaced by dim candlelight flickering amidst the mist that curled around your feet. It was Nearly Headless Nick's annual Deathday Party, and the place looked eerily beautiful in a way only Hogwarts could pull off. A perfect fit for an autumn evening, where the crispness of the air mixed with the smell of burning wood from distant fires.

You shifted uncomfortably in your long, emerald green robe, fidgeting with the Slytherin crest on your sleeve, glancing over at Mattheo Riddle, your best friend since first year. His hair was tousled like he’d just stepped off a broomstick, eyes flickering with his usual mischief, but there was something different about him tonight. Maybe it was the way the soft lighting brought out the sharp angles of his jaw or the way his dark eyes seemed to find yours in the crowd every other second.

It was probably nothing, right? You'd been telling yourself that for months, ignoring the warmth that filled your chest whenever he smiled at you. It had to be nothing, because that was Mattheo—your Mattheo, your best friend.

"Oi, Y/N, you okay? You look like you're about to pass out," Theo's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, as he sidled up next to you with Pansy, Blaise, and Draco. Mattheo was a bit farther off, talking with a group of seventh-year girls you didn’t recognize.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the slight twinge of jealousy creeping up your throat. "I'm fine, just… tired." You smiled weakly, but your gaze involuntarily flicked to Mattheo again. His head tipped back in laughter, the sound lost in the murmurs of the ghostly party, but it hit you right in the gut.

Pansy narrowed her eyes at you. “Tired, huh? You’ve been staring at Riddle for the past five minutes, love. What’s really going on?”

You nearly choked on your pumpkin juice. "I—I haven’t been staring," you stammered, but Pansy raised an eyebrow, an all-knowing smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. The others, thankfully, were too busy gossiping about something Blaise had said to notice your flustered state.

Pansy leaned in closer, her voice low. "You know, denial looks awful on you."

You opened your mouth to protest, but her words struck something deep inside. You couldn’t deny that lately, things between you and Mattheo had felt… different. Every touch, every glance seemed to linger just a little too long. But he was your best friend. You couldn’t risk losing that.

Still, a part of you wondered—was he feeling it too? Or were you just seeing things that weren’t there?

"Pans…" you began, hesitating for a second before finally asking, "How did you know you loved Luna?"

Pansy's eyes softened at the mention of her girlfriend, and she smiled fondly. "It was… gradual. Like one day, I woke up and the thought of her just made sense. All the teasing, the butterflies, the little moments—they all came together. It was terrifying, but once I admitted it to myself, it was like the pieces clicked into place. Why do you ask?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as her words sank in. Maybe it was more obvious than you wanted to admit, but you were still afraid—afraid of what it might mean, afraid of what you might lose.

Pansy didn’t push, but she squeezed your hand reassuringly before turning to join the conversation Blaise and Theo were having about the latest Quidditch match. You were left with your thoughts—and the sight of Mattheo getting just a bit too close to that seventh-year girl.

Jealousy flared up in your chest, and you couldn’t stop the frown from pulling at your lips. Why did it bother you so much? He was allowed to talk to whoever he wanted, right? But something in you twisted, bitter and sharp, at the way she leaned in, her hand lightly brushing his arm.

You stormed away, deciding to head toward the refreshment table for some air—or at least as much air as you could get in a room filled with ghosts. You were halfway there when a hand gently grabbed your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

"Hey, what’s wrong?" Mattheo's voice was soft, concerned, and way too close for comfort. He had followed you.

You turned, trying to hide your frustration. "Nothing's wrong, Mattheo. Why would anything be wrong?"

He gave you a look that told you he didn’t buy it for a second. "You looked like you were about to murder someone. Come on, Y/N, talk to me."

You bit your lip, feeling your resolve start to crack under his gaze. This was Mattheo. He always knew when something was off. But this wasn’t something you could just blurt out. How were you supposed to explain to him that watching him flirt with someone else was breaking your heart?

"You looked like you were having fun with… her," you muttered, immediately regretting it. You weren’t supposed to care. You weren’t supposed to be jealous.

Mattheo blinked, caught off guard for a moment, before a slow grin spread across his face. "Wait. Are you jealous?"

Your cheeks flamed, and you yanked your wrist out of his grasp. "I’m not jealous! I just… I—" You couldn’t find the words, too flustered and embarrassed to form a coherent sentence.

But Mattheo was still grinning, stepping closer to you, eyes gleaming in that way that made your heart race. "You are jealous," he teased, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. "Why?"

You wanted to scream. He was so infuriating and so clueless, and yet… Merlin, you loved him.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, "Because I hate seeing you with other girls, okay?"

Mattheo's grin faded, replaced by a look of surprise and confusion. "Y/N…"

You shook your head, cutting him off. "I don't know when it happened, okay? But it did. I like you, Mattheo. And it’s been driving me mad because I thought—well, I don’t know what I thought. But seeing you with someone else… it hurts."

The silence that followed felt suffocating. Your heart was pounding, your hands shaking, and you were already mentally preparing yourself for the worst.

But then, after what felt like an eternity, Mattheo finally spoke, his voice soft but steady. "You idiot."

You blinked, taken aback. "What?"

Mattheo shook his head, a small laugh escaping him as he reached out, cupping your cheek in his hand. "I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you for months. I’m crazy about you, Y/N. I just didn’t want to mess things up between us."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you stared at him, completely stunned. "You… you like me too?"

He grinned again, the warmth in his eyes melting the last of your doubts. "More than you know."

Before you could say anything else, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in the softest, sweetest kiss. It felt like the world had tilted, like everything had clicked into place, just like Pansy had said. The jealousy, the confusion—it all melted away, leaving only the two of you, finally together.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Mattheo rested his forehead against yours. "So, does this mean I don’t have to flirt with seventh-year girls to get your attention anymore?"

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. "If you ever do that again, I’ll hex you."

He chuckled, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around you as the autumn air swirled around you both. "Deal."

thank you so much for requesting, love!

[rubra-wav]

Vox x reader drabble

A/N Idk, man. I just wanted to write sumn softer with him, and this came out. Couldn't figure out a name for it

Cw: SFW, Gn!reader, use of the petname dollface/doll, bully him bully him bully him

You sat in Vox's lap as he worked, head on his chest, listening to the oddly comforting sound of his internal mechanisms whirring away under ear.

It had been rather tiring of a day for you to say the least, and although the demon had been rather surprised you had dare ventured into his observation room, he hadn't exactly been against you taking up the current position you held against him so long as you didn't distract him until he finished up.

The arm that had wrapped around your waist to pull you to sit in the space between his thighs had taken up residence on your hip, gently rubbed circles against it absentmindedly while his other hand typed rather loudly.

As you had been pulled against him, you'd practically melted into his embrace. The observation room was very cold so as to not cause all the technology (including Vox himself) to overheat, and he was much warmer than said room.

Your tired eyes cracked open, and you looked up at him through your lashes as you pressed your chin against his chest upon hearing Vox let out an irritated his.

His red eyes narrowed at the monitor before him, brows angrily furrowed as he grit his teeth. He could feel your gaze on him as his lip curled and somewhat pushed himself to calm down a bit.

"You okay?" You asked.

Vox sighed, eyes somewhat softening as he forced himself to look away from the screen displaying numbers in front of him. The ghost of a smile spread across his face as the light from his monitor illuminated your sleepy expression.

The demon would never be able to quite admit the way just seeing and feeling you pressing against him, looking up at him with somewhat messy hair and eyes, which shone with adoration made him feel.

He was sure you were aware anyway, as embarrassing as that was.

"I'm just peachy, dollface. Stocks are down slightly from last year, is all." He said, bringing the hand on his keyboard to rest on the top of your head, running his fingers through it to smoothe out the wayward strands.

You hummed at the contact, it petering off into a slight snicker as you considered his words. "You're loaded already. Would losing some really be that bad?" You watched his smile fade as his expression soured again, his hand in your hair coming to a stop.

"Yes. Yes, it would be." He said pointedly. You laughed at the way he said it and moved around to sit facing towards him, knees on the soft leather of the seat in between his legs as you leaned up towards his glowering expression.

Vox's cheeks tinted light blue as your face stopped just before your nose pressed against his monitor, your hands resting on his shoulders casually. "I know you're capitalism king, but you really ought to stop being so greedy, baby~" you cooed at him, grinning as his sour expression became irritatedly flustered at your tone.

"You know damn well what stock prices falling could mean. What if there's a crash or somethi- oh-!" he stopped short as your lips made contact with his monitor once on his cheek, then again and again and again - peppering him with kisses.

"Doll- (Name)!" He exclaimed, glitching slightly as you felt his display heat up under your at your sudden onslaught of affection. You chuckled as you felt his hands grip onto your hips as if he were trying to steady himself.

When you finally stopped kissing him, you leaned back with a somewhat smug look on your face as you looked at his pouting and flustered expression.

"It's not funny." He grumbled.

"Yeah, it is actually." You said. His pout only deepened, prompting you to tilt your head at him, laughter quieting to slight giggles.

Vox admired the way your eyelids drooped again, you looking at him with a mischievous smirk in a way only you were allowed to.

He sighed deeply, urging his heart to stop racing in his chest and tried to sound disappointed in you. "And would you look at that? You distracted me from my work. I ought to tell you to shoo." He said with a raised brow, expression now calm.

You raised your eyebrows right back at him, smiling as you already knew the answer to the question. "But are you gonna?"

You two engaged in a silent staring contest for a good 5 seconds before Vox grumbled a 'no' under his breath as he turned away from you bitterly.

You burrowed your face into his neck with a muffled proclamation of 'thought so', snuggling into him all the more and him begrudgingly reciprocating.

I'm probably gonna post this, then notice a ton of spelling or grammar errors tomorrow, but who cares~~ (morning me will)

Masterlist

[neuvistar]

Ass, tits or thighs for loucha and welt

You can choose other hsr men

Fluff of nsfw you pick

ASS, TITS OR THIGHS?

— featuring ┊ luocha, welt, jing yuan, blade, gepard x fem!reader (all separate)

— warnings / content warnings ┊ a lil short i think?? uh not proofread, tiny bit of titplay, mentions of thigh fucking??, slight body worship me thinks, mentions of face sitting, use of nicknames, nothing extreme just suggestive of implied suggestive themes! || 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

— a/n ┊good question, let’s decide this once n for all ! hope u enjoyed this i had fun sm fun writing it tbh ++ i loved writing jing yuan’s part its so cute 2 me

LUOCHA lowkey seems like a thigh man, blud doesn’t care how big or how small he just wants you to crush him with your thighs. i mean come on i’m sure he probably likes the feeling of his hands trailing down your hips then to your thighs, giving them a nice squeeze while he’s at it. he seems like he’d enjoy times where you would thigh highs, thanking the aeons above for this lovely gift and beautiful sight. ++ when you do wear it jesus fuck his hands r always on your thighs, gently sliding two fingers in your black thigh highs you wore that day, pretty eyes gazing at yours to see your reaction.

maybe if he’s feeling a lil silly he’d slide his fingers inside you too, bonus points for that skull emoji idk man this goof just seems and LOOKS like a thigh man, i’m sure he’s a big fan of face sitting too since he’d love how your thighs cage around his head, holding them firmly as he eats you out like there’s no tomorrow. he just wants to get crushed by your thighs, i’m sure he’s someone that stays true to his word as well, “death by thighs is the way of a warrior” is what he believes. luocha just wants to savour the feeling of your thighs around his head, oh yeah his favourite place to kiss you is probably your thighs, surprise surprise!! that man has a huge thing for your thighs you don’t even know why, always complimenting you how beautiful they look too, you don’t mind though. but anyways, he loves kissing your thighs, such a sweetheart isn’t he?

WELT is expiring bruh one thrust n that fucker is already fading into thin air but itz ok cuz i like em expired (NAHH IM SO SORRY) but anyways he’s an ass man, i’m sure of it. that brunette loves ass more than you think, he’s a sucker for that fatty i know it, look me in the eyes n tell me he isn’t an ass man cuz he is n no one’s gonna convince me he’s not i don’t wanna hear it /j but back to business yeah he seems like an ass man, i think bro’s vv cool with it too like if you asked him “ass tits or thighs” he would give you a full description on why he prefers ass out of everyone of them, whenever you two make love i like to think that he prefers it if you take it from the back. why? well lemme tell you

he likes it whenever you take it from the back cuz he gets full view of your back and most importantly your ass, the way his hips snap against yours, hypnotized by the way your ass looks, giving it a lil squeeze too. oh yeah he’s probably the type to give ur ass little taps, like gentle ones but it isn’t perverted in anyway it’s just to get you moving, and maybe to also get a reaction out of you but yes no more explanation this manz is crazy for ass he would get hard at the sight of you in some tight clothing that makes your ass look nice wink wink. this goof probably snuck a lil glance at your ass when you were bending over one time, grabbing a pencil. let’s jus say, he got hard! cmon he just loves ass, he loves it sm bros probably fascinated over the jiggle physics of your ass or sumn cause gahhh dahum

JING YUAN i think he’d be vv sweet about these sort of things, he wouldn’t rlly separate things into things he liked or didn’t like, he loved everything about you. jing yuan would find you perfect in his eyes, he found you rather beautiful in every aspect, an alluring attraction he could not simply look away from, but he cared not for your body, for your beauty was the least of your features n it was everything else about you that he found the most attractive. beyond compare and without fault. but in all truthfulness, he loves titties stfu i’m not gonna argue with anyone else he’s a tit man and that’s final, it’s true it’s confirmed by me he’s apart of the tittie lover committee. but honestly, like i said he’d find every aspect of you beautiful (he’s a tit man trust he’s just in denial)

he would be so so sweet :( if u ever asked him what he liked abt u (ass tits n thighs yk) he would simply let out a deep sigh and kiss your forehead,

“why do you care so deeply about my opinion on your body?" jing yuan asked softly with a soft shake of his head. "does my opinion mean that much to you? i think you are a rather beautiful woman. that’s all, nothing more, nothing less. i do not look at you like a prize or a toy, my dove, for you mean more to me than your appearance. but since you are so concerned, i will say it. you are extremely beautiful in my eyes, i love everything about you. every part of your body, your facial features, your personality, everything. there’s nothing i can pin point, because i love everything about you, beautiful.” (he still loves ur tits though)

BLADE is indecisive with this sort of thing me thinks.. he’d choose all three but if you ask him why he did, honestly he’d pull up some shit like “because i desire them all and i get what i desire” or sum shit like that, he’s just a lil indecisive guys. but jokes aside, he would prefer your tits. he’s probably a tit man in my eyes! there’s just something about your titties that makes him stop and think about the decisions he made in life. the first time you guys got busy (if you know what i mean) blud would get all red for the first time asking if he could touch your breasts, and that special day.. he fell in love with the feeling of his hands engulfing your tits, the softness of your flesh was intoxicating to him almost.

he probably doesn’t care about size either, he just loves how his large hands engulf your tits as a whole, he loves the little whimpers you let out when he plays with your hardened nipples, twisting it gently as he feels your body jolt against his, pressing himself even closer against you. blade loves you and your body, he just can’t get enough of you because you’re so beautiful to him, he’s one lucky man to have someone like you. he’s probably into titfucking too, the thought of it makes me curl my toes tbh. he probably slides his dick in between the softness of your breasts, a moaning mess as he threw his head back, enjoying the feeling of your boobs around his cock. bonus points if he came on your tits afterwards, he fell more and more in love with you and your titties. he would probably cum on your tits like 99% of the time whenever you guys would have sex, you would scold him sometimes but cmon he can’t help it. he loves how pretty your tits look covered with his cum.

GEPARD last but not least the babygirl ever, most the babygirl of the babygirls, he would probably prefer ass ++ thighs over anything else. he tries to push these kind of thoughts away but he knows he can’t escape them when you’re right there all dolled up and pretty for him. gepard would blush seeing you in a short skirt, bonus points if you wore thigh highs or black tights along with it. i like to think tgat he would feel ashamed of himself for thinking such things about you, taking a quick glance of your thighs whenever you both use the stairs, seeing how your skirt would move a bit. jesus he didn’t even know you had allat back there, but you did. bless your parents. but honestly i don’t think he’d care about the size either, he just loves how soft they feel against his palm, huge fan of you taking it from the back too.

gepard is probably into thigh fucking too, grabbing your thighs and ripping your black tights, positioning himself in between them as he slides himself between the heat of your inner thighs, his dick also rubbing against your pussy too more bonus points for that. he would savour and take in the feeling of your thighs against his cock, loving how warm you felt around him. he’s such a huge sucker for that fattie n huge sucker for them neck crushers, if you sat on his face and broke his neck he would probably blame himself for being too weak to handle you like he should, speaking of that he loves it whenever you sat on his face, like i said no matter the side he’s diving into that pussy like it’s the pacific ocean, he doesn’t give two fucks if you’re too heavy your pussy is the ocean he’s gonna dive in 2nite (he’s practically asking u to break his neck atp skull emoji)