#thirst inducing
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Watching The Gentlemen and seeing Michelle Dockery (who I’ve only ever seen as Lady Mary in Downton) glam to the max—red lips, gold hoops—with a gun in hand, pure London, saying “Listen to me, cunt, you take one step forward and it’ll be the last fucking step you ever take.” and I’m just beside myself with happiness at my movie choice.
ALSO
Charlie Hunman in this film is delicious.
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as a non Rammstein fan sometimes all the thirst posts makes me forget it's an actual band as in my mind they are characters??? XDDD same with the band Ghost! It's pretty hilarious seeing my mutuals posts without having an idea what's going on. Love the energy
yeah, i know what you mean, sometimes it seems we just look for the pretty or hot (or pretty hot) pictures, and rarely post actual music 😊
And this when i especially love Rammstein for the dramatic quality of their music ❤️
So to add a little bit of music back to the feed, my top 3 live songs, let's see if we can enjoy those without getting distracted by thirsting 😇
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(thirsting hazards: Paul's belly-button, Schneider with wavy hair and fishnets)
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(thirsting hazards: Till flexing his abs)
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(thirsting hazards: Paul's collar, Schneider's short hair, oberkörperfrei Till/Olli/Flake, Richard's....wait...is it getting warm here...)
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craving yogurt for the past week but not any yogurt specifically the ones that come in tubes. I forgot the name of them
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JUNGKOOK for CALVIN KLEIN 🌸
#bts#jungkook#bts art#bts fanart#jungkook fanart#jungkook x calvin klein#jk x ck#jeongguk#jeon jungkook#kim taehyung#park jimin#kim namjoon#jung hoseok#min yoongi#kim seokjin#my art#me for the last eight straight hours : 👁️👄👁️#girl something possessed me i don't know what#i mean i do know what it was the spirit of thirst but idk why none of the other thirst inducing things jks been doing triggered it#i'm not going to look a motivation horse in the mouth tho so here it is#speedpaint to follow#bts imagines#bts scenarios#bangtanarmynet#networkbangtan#i think one or both of those might be on hiatus#oh well#artists on tumblr
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Faendal with his hair down (and shirtless, yum) 03-17-2023
#tanithia draws#skyrim#skyrim fan art#elder scrolls#tes#tesblr#digital art#Bosmer#Faendal#those shoulders though#this mer is thirst-inducing
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QUESTION: are the milo ventimiglia girlies excited for his new show where he’s a con man who has a sexy affair with a cia agent or whatever?? because that one seems made for fandom appreciation!!
#i myself am not a milo girlie but i was like ‘I see you and i respect you here sir’#he is leaning into his thirst-inducing era!!!#dollsome's deep thoughts
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#one day i have no notes on anything#no biggie#and a week later a sleep-deprived fanfic driven Dracula thirst induced off-the-cuff rant post I made several weeks ago gets over 400 notes#in like 24 hrs#tumblr is wild
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im so sad beau is a product of my imagination and not a separate real life person his tumblr would be so funny
#cant say the same about felix#i think he would just post thirst traps and be generally odd and strange#girl i am one headache induced breakdown away from making a contemporary au
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Fidgety Matt Murdock strikes again!
Charlie Cox wishes good luck to Great Britain's Judo Athletes for Paralympics 2024
#charlie cox#matt murdock#daredevil#Charlie bringing his own ticks to the table#That first frame... (fans self)#Poor Charlie is just over here trying to live#blissfully unaware of the thirst he's inducing
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Is it possible to experience psychosis while dreaming?
There seems to be an overlap between the functionalities of those two, but I can't really get to the bottom of this.
#just a random shower thought#but this might explain why my dreams are always so haptic and tasty#I'd still rather not wake up with a (pseudo) nicotine-induced after thirst#how does my body even reproduce this?! I haven't frenched a smoker in years!
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I stg he does this shit with those billy clubs and my brain is just
The slow walk and aggressive stretching of the billy club is something so lethal...
And that show-off twirl...
#daredevil#echo spoilers#matt murdock#charlie cox#he HAS to know what he's doing#like Matt/Charlie/Who The Fuck Ever Signed Off has to know#just how fucking thirst inducing this shit was#90 seconds of watching and some hobbits showed up to throw a ring at me
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ⅱ ▬ ⁽ 𝑔𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉 ⁾
𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₈ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, dubcon, rape/noncon elements, explicit content, spectrophilia, ghost/human, rough sex, "unprotected" sex, creampie, somnophilia, cunnilingus. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: after coming home from a grueling day of work, instead of being able to relax, the feeling of someone watching you has you scared. ꒰m!ghost ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱
CLICK
𝒯 he soft glow of your lamp casts a warm yellow light throughout the desolate home, but it fails to dispel the darkness that lingers. You make a mental note, weariness seeping into your thoughts, to buy a new lightbulb from the mart later in the week. The dimness of the room matches the heaviness in your heart, as you feel the weight of loneliness settle upon your shoulders, part of you knows you should be used to coming home with no one to greet you, but it still stings nonetheless.
Struggling to remove your gym shoes, you let out an annoyed groan, exhaustion causing you to stumble and collide into the wall with a thump. Finally freeing your feet, you stretch your arms above your head and let out a tired sigh. Your muscles ache from the long day at work, and the fatigue seems to seep into your bones. Your eyes flutter closed from the effects of sleep deprivation but your stomach grumbles with a ravenous craving for a thick pastrami sandwich. The thought of sinking your teeth into the juicy meat and tangy mustard momentarily distracts you from the weariness that engulfs you.
Discarding your wool coat onto the carpeted floor, you shuffle yourself wearily down the hallway towards the kitchen, fully expecting it to still be a mess from three days ago. The cluttered countertops and unwashed dishes serve as a constant reminder of your chaotic schedule and the lack of time you have for yourself. It’s as if the mess mirrors the disarray in your own life, and you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by it all. At times you missed living with your parents and not having any responsibilities. Being an adult was so stress-inducing you just wanted to lay in bed and cry sometimes.
Leaning against the hallway wall, you find solace in pressing your forehead against the cool, flowered wallpaper. Sleep weighs heavily on your eyelids, momentarily clouding your vision and tempting you to succumb to its embrace. And just as your legs threaten to give way, a gentle chill dances down your spine, jolting you awake with a surge of electricity. A tired sigh escapes your lips as you run your palm down your face, mustering the strength to continue towards the kitchen. The chaotic mess that greets you almost makes you cry.
Resting against the entryway to the kitchen, a pang of regret washes over you. Deep down, and not even buried that far truly, you wish you hadn’t taken your coworker’s shift. Despite your fondness for the woman, working two consecutive twelve-hour shifts was more than you could handle. And as the new nurse in the hospital, you were an easy target for those who wanted to shirk their responsibilities, they left you to run around like a headlesss chicken.
You finally gather the energy to carry yourself into the kitchen, reaching for a cup from the cupboard and turning on the sink faucet, allowing lukewarm water to fill it. Impatiently you can’t wait for the tap to run cold and quickly knock back the glass, the satisfaction of quenching your thirst outweighs the temperature. Slouching against the sink, you take a moment to stretch, feeling your joints crack and your muscles slacken. You flutter your eyes shut to stop yourself from gazing at the mess that’s your kitchen.
Placing the glass on the worn countertop, you set your medical bag on the kitchen island and head towards the staircase, overwhelmed by the longing for a shower and some rest. However, as you approach the hallway, a sudden shiver runs down your spine, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. Your legs momentarily go numb, and you manage to grab hold of the stair railing, preventing yourself from stumbling. After being on your feet for a whole day, you were shocked you had not immediately collapsed when you walked in the door.
A sudden sense of unease washes over you when you survey your modest home, the horrid sensation of being observed seeping into your skin and festering in your mind. It’s as if the feeling surrounds you, leaving you breathless and on edge. Your eyes dart between the dimly lit kitchen and the shadowy staircase, it’s as if the shadows themselves are in motion. Objects seem out of place, and didn’t you leave your bag on the island?
Confusion creases your brow as you search for your bag, it takes a while but you discover it leaning against the couch’s armrest in the living room. Your unease deepens, causing a slight twitch in your eye. The entire situation leaves you unsettled. Anxiously, you bite down on your lower lip, feeling the sting as your teeth sink into the flesh. Once more, the sensation of being watched intensifies, as though someone is observing your every move, listening to your every thought, and knowing your every action. Goosebumps raise on your skin, skittering down your back.
You shake your head in disbelief and pinch the bridge of your nose, the weight of exhaustion and hunger bearing down on you. ( the latter was something you would fix in the morning, as you did not have the energy to cook anything.) The darkness of the hallway only adds to your supposed delusion. With a heavy sigh, you push yourself away from the railing and begin the arduous climb up the stairs.
Stopping just shy of the top of the stairs, you reach your hand out and glide it along the cool walls beside you, feeling for the light switch— one may think that you would know where the light was in a house that you’ve lived in for two years, but you seemed to fail to find it every time. Your palm glides along the walls, desperately searching for the elusive light switch. It’s a futile attempt, as if the house itself is playing tricks on you. The anticipation builds as you inch closer to the top, your body tensing with each step.
Finally, the click of the switch echoes through the silence. But it’s not your doing. Panic sets in as you realize someone else must be in the house, but soon the hallway is bathed in harsh light, exposing every shadow and corner. Yet no one is there. You stare at your hand, questioning whether you had unknowingly flipped the switch.
Ignoring the fear that threatens to consume you, you force yourself to continue. Quickly, you make your way to your room, seeking solace behind the closed door. But even within the confines of your sanctuary, the feeling of being watched persists. It’s as if an unseen presence lingers, peering into the depths of your soul.
Your skin tingles in question as the ethereal sensation of fingers delicately cupping your cheek sends shivers down your spine (truly almost nonexistent). A surge of unease washes over you, even though you can’t see anything, you can sense an intense, ravenous gaze fixated on you. Shaking off the remnants of your episode, you take a hesitant step forward, determined to overcome any lingering apprehension. With a burst of courage, you scurry to your dresser and retrieve an oversized T-shirt, a memento stolen from your older brother years ago, along with a pair of plain black cotton panties.
No matter what strange occurrences were unfolding, you refuse to let them hinder your plans for a hot shower. The past twenty-four hours have left you covered in sweat and grime, and you are determined to cleanse yourself of it all.
With eager anticipation, you make your way to the bathroom, barely bothering to close the door behind you. Placing your clothes in the sink, you turn towards the shower, pushing the curtain aside to adjust the knobs and pull up the shower valve, spurring on the hot water. As the bathroom fills with steam, your breathing becomes slightly shallow, the heat causing your cheeks to flush.
Stepping back towards the sink, you gaze at the fogged-up mirror, your reflection blurred and distorted. Like a scene from a horror movie, you raise your hand and press it against the glass, wiping downwards and watching as the water droplets cascade lower, dripping on your discarded clothing below.
As your eyes meet your reflection once more, they immediately lose focus and fixate on the imposing figure standing just a few meters behind you. Towering over six feet tall, his muscular frame exudes a suffocating amount of dominance and power. A scream of terror and disbelief escapes your lips, and in a panic, you grab the hand soap from the sink and swiftly turn around, hurling it towards the intruder. The bottle soars through the air, crashing into the wall before landing on the tiled floor.
There was no one there; you were going crazy.
“Calm down. You need to sleep. It’s been a long day; your mind is playing tricks on you.”
You were just full of excuses, desperately trying to maintain your sanity. But surprisingly, those excuses provided a strange comfort, no matter how unbelievable they were. So, you decided to settle yourself down, shedding your work pants and kicking them aside. Your shirt and undergarments followed suit, as you let go of all inhibitions. In that moment, the fear that had consumed you was momentarily forgotten.
You gazed at your reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to wipe away any imperfections. Your eyes wandered down to your body, taking in the soft ridges of faint stretch marks on your breasts with your fingertips. As your palms venture lower, they lovingly caress your thighs, reveling in the velvety softness of your skin and the warmth that radiates from them.
With a shake of your head, you release a sigh of surrender, allowing your hands to fall gracelessly to your sides. You take a step closer to the inviting tub, parting the shower curtain to reveal the steamy water within. As you enter the embrace of the hot water, a soft moan of pleasure escapes your lips, the heat enveloping your entire being and melting away the tension in your muscles. This shower was exactly what you craved.
After diligently scrubbing your skin until it’s both raw (and irresistibly smooth), you find yourself sitting on the floor of the tub, relishing in the sensation of the water cascading over your hair and body. However, as much as you yearn to stay in the blissful sanctuary that is your tub until the water turns cold, you reluctantly acknowledge the losing battle against sleep that you’re already engaged in.
Carefully rising from the bathtub, you extend your hand under the cooling sprays of the water to twist the knobs and halt the shower, pushing the valve down afterward. Exiting the tub, you forgo the use of a towel and opt to let the air dry you while reaching for your toothpaste and toothbrush from their respective places. Relocating your clothes from the sink to the nearby shelf, you proceed to brush your teeth swiftly, counting to fifty before spitting and returning everything to its original position.
You grab your face wash and dispense a small amount onto your palm, with gentle strokes, you massage the cleanser into your skin, creating a lather that removes the remnants of yesterday morning’s messy makeup. Switching on the tap, you lean over the sink, allowing the warm water to flow into your hands, smoothly gliding it across your face and rinsing away the soap.
Your back divots suddenly with a delicate grace as an ethereal caress firmly grasps your sensetive hips, eliciting a startled gasp of surprise from your parted lips. Your eyes pop open, darting around in a hasty manner, well, stupidly, seeing as you hadn’t quite finished washing your face--- the remnants of soap trickling into your eyes. A sharp hiss escapes your mouth as you instinctively lower yourself to rinse away the discomfort.
Once more the tantalizing trail of fingers tracing along your spine is undeniably present. You remain still, your muscles tensing in anticipation, trembling as the touch ascends higher, encircling your neck. With trembling hands, you turn off the faucet and inhale deeply, attempting to steady your racing heart. The deep, seductive timbre of your name being whispered intimately close to your ear fills you with a bone-chilling terror. Quickly, you snatch your garments from the nearby shelf and flee into the sanctuary of your bedroom, momentarily struggling with the bathroom door.
“Calm down, calm down; this is not happening. You’re hallucinating.”
You erratically throw on your shirt, using it to also dry your face, and shimmy your panties up your legs, the soft cotton resting comfortably on your hips. You quickly crawl into bed and pull the comforter up to your chin, shutting your eyes and tucking your bottom lip into your mouth. (Your hair could wait, you were not getting out of bed.)
“Hey, Alexa, turn off: Bedroom Lights. ”
You can’t even recall switching on the overhead light, but honestly, you’re past the point of caring. The mechanical response plunges the room into darkness, and the moment your head hits the pillow (as comfortable as it can be when cold and damp), you’re fast asleep.
You’re unsure how long it’s been, but your eyes flutter open, heavy with sleep when you feel the sensation of large, calloused hands gliding up your stomach softly. The touch is unfamiliar, but it doesn’t necessarily frighten you as it should, instead, you can feel yourself throbbing in your panties, gentle and shy. You blame your sleep deprivation on the lack of fear.
The hands approach your bare breasts, a thumb rubbing over the taught peaks of your pebbled nipples causing a soft gasp to escape your luscious lips, your cheeks burning with fiery heat, and your body arching ever so slightly from the bed, offering your breasts to the awaiting, eager palms.
Your pussy, warm and slick, constricts and drools with your arousal. Maybe it’s the thrill of imagining a supernatural encounter, but you’ve never felt as aroused and eager as you do at this moment; dripping and throbbing.
You feel a surge of anticipation as your panties are gently shifted aside, a trail of your desire following suit. Ghostly fingers swiftly trail up your inner thigh, getting closer to your sopping pussy, and despite the uncertainty of the situation, the mysterious touch ignites a fire within you. The paranormality behind the sensation makes your heart pound and your pussy salivate with need. Lost in a whirlwind of lustful thoughts, a soft caress on your clit causes your hips to involuntarily buck, your lip bruised from the force of your bite. “Ah~”
Your voice comes out as a breathy, needy whine. The suspense of where and when the next touch will land sends shivers of excitement down your spine. And as soon as you're almost on the verge of begging, a rush of hot air sweeps over your dripping core, causing your pussy to clench instinctively. Your throbbing clit pulsates with an insatiable ache, lost in a haze of pleasure, and your eyes roll back, unable to fully grasp the intensity of the experience.
As the sensation engulfs you, your throbbing bud is devoured by their hungry mouth. The combination of their saliva and your own intoxicating arousal trickles down, moistening your tight, quivering entrance. The sensation is nothing short of divine, as if their touch is delicately fondling and slurping at every nerve within your shuddering body.
Your hips, moving with a will of their own, rise from the bed and writhe. You can’t help but squeal softly as firm, powerful, and large hands encircle your hips, forcefully pressing you down onto the mattress, indulging in your warm, sticky juices; skillfully teasing your clit with its tongue. Your cries and pleas echo loudly, a stark contrast to your usual quiet demeanor when having sex with men.
Oh, but you felt like a bitch in heat, like your entire being was engulfed in flames and burning you from the inside out— it made you want to scream and cry.
Your body trembles uncontrollably as the knot tightens, gripping your stomach, thighs, and lower abdomen. In a desperate bid for relief from the agonizing pleasure, you instinctively gyrate your hips. Your vision blurs and fades into a blinding white haze, signaling your impending climax. But just as you teeter on the edge of release, the touches abruptly cease, leaving you yearning for more.
You whimper and attempt to reach down to your soaking pussy to pat and rub at your engorged clit, but you unintentionally freeze in place; a small knot of fear causes your eyes to well up, yet it only intensifies your craving for its caress. When nothing further occurs, you start to plead, like a desperate whore— as if you hadn’t been touched in years.
And as if pleased, the ghostly caresses return to your sensitive clit, moving with a deliberate slowness that sends shivers down your spine. You can’t help but let out a series of soft moans, as you offer up sweet words of gratitude to the mysterious entity pleasuring you.
“Ah, yes, yes, please!”
Your body tenses as the knot tightens, aching with a mix of pain and pleasure. Your hips move uncontrollably, seeking more of that sweet torment. Yet, it stops once more, leaving you to come down from your ruined high. You’re a sobbing mess now, grinding against the air, waiting for something, anything.
Your throat constricts suddenly, leaving you breathless as fingers delve into your tight, dripping pussy, curling and prodding your spongey g-spot. The digits seem to know your pussy like the back of their hand, stroking every nerve inside of you. The squelching sound of your arousal drowns out your heavy breathing and mewling moans. The entity suddenly adds its thumb to the mix, circling your clit quickly. The pleasure escalates swiftly, and your eyes squeeze shut as a rush of pure ecstasy overwhelms you, leaving your thighs quivering and twitching from the deep, blissful climax.
After the high subsides, you pant for air, the tension easing from your throat. You sprawl sensually on your bed, clit throbbing and arousal coating your sheets. A tepid, exhausted breath escapes your lips as a thickness delicately nudges apart the folds of your pulsating entrance, prompting an instinctual urge to flee. However, unyielding hands firmly pull you closer, and your legs reluctantly surrender to their command.
You can feel a bulbous, mushroom-shaped tip forcefully penetrating your quivering, weeping pussy eliciting a mixture of pleasure and pain at the invasion. Your pretty eyes roll quickly to the back of your head as the unknown entity plunges its heavy, thick cock into your tight entrance, your thighs pressed to your chest and legs draped over broad shoulders.
You keen softly, as your pliable walls ensnare his cock in a vice-like, velvety embrace. “More, I need more; please fuck me, please.” Your plea is abruptly silenced as its thick length withdraws from within you, only to resume with an intense, unconventional rhythm—leaving you no opportunity to adjust to its entire length.
The unyielding grip on your waist marks you in the most delicious way, leaving behind a trail of bruises that only heighten the pleasure coursing through you. Your pussy feels so full and sated, despite nothing physically filling you, you throb with satisfaction.
Lost in the depths of your pleasure, the reasons behind your desperate pleas elude you, but you continue to spill them forth without hesitation, unable to think. Once again, your breath is stolen away, your throat constricts, and an intense orgasm surges through you like a forceful tidal wave. A delicious warmth then radiates from your core, spreading through your tummy.
The most painful and pleasurable feeling of being filled with cum has you aching for a taste of it. Your body goes limp, but whatever is fucking you doesn’t stop; their cock pistols into you despite you slowly losing consciousness.
As your eyes flutter open, you gradually rise from the bed. The room is shrouded in darkness, leaving you disoriented about the time you’ve spent asleep. Urgently, you rush to the bathroom due to your full bladder. Stepping out of bed, a gasp escapes your lips as your foot lands on a cold, damp object. Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s your panties. Blushing, you drop them and shake your head, with your hair still slightly wet from the previous night’s shower.
As you enter the bathroom, you opt for the wall light switch instead of the one on the ceiling, casting a gentle, warm radiance throughout the room. Oblivious to your reflection, you casually stroll past the mirror, too exhausted to spare a second glance.
As you ease yourself onto the toilet seat, your tired eyes gently close, and the tinkling sound of you using the bathroom lulls you into a state of sleep for a brief moment. A few moments pass, and you linger a bit longer before reaching for a flushable wet wipe, dutifully cleansing yourself before discarding it into the swirling abyss of the toilet bowl.
With a swift flush, you rise to your feet and shuffle to the sink to cleanse your hands. However, as you slowly open your drowsy eyes and catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, a sudden chill runs down your spine.
As you gingerly raise your shirt, a gasp escapes your lips. The sight before you is both shocking and unsettling. Crimson and violet bruises, resembling the imprint of a colossal hand, encircle your throat, cascading down to conceal your collarbone and shoulders. As your eyes wander further, a gasp escapes your lips. Vivid handprints, a testament to an intimate encounter, mark your hips in crimson and violet, while a constellation of hickies adorns your tummy.
As you gaze into the mirror, you suddenly catch sight of a man standing behind you, from earlier. Surprisingly, he seems closer than the last time you saw him, and you can feel the warmth of his body through your shirt. He stands tall, with bulging muscles and an overwhelming presence that leaves you breathless. However, his appearance remains a mystery, as you struggle to make out his features. Just then, the bathroom door slams shut, plunging the room into darkness as the lights flicker off. Your heart skips a beat as you feel hands slowly trail up your shirt, eventually cupping your pussy.
His voice is like a warm embrace, wrapping around you with its deep, sensual, sinful, and amused tones.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
#monsterfucker#monster fucker#monster smut#monster headcanons#terato#monster lover#monster nsft#monster x reader#monster x human#monster x you#monster romance#tw monsterfucking#fantasy#female writers#possessive#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#female reader#monster imagine#ghost smut#spectrophilia#ghost x reader#supernatural#smut#very nsft#ghost#afab#nsft post#head canon#deunmiu dessie
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Summer Loving
Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Roy, & Tim.
AN: Have a lot of lengthy and/or smutty wips on the go atm and I can feel them bogging me down a bit, so I decided to take a break and work on some short summer themed slice of life/domestic fluff to cleanse my palate. I feel I must apologise for my gratuitous and obvious Roy Harper thirst but I wont, enjoy!
CWs: Some are more suggestive than others, reader discretion advised. Minor swearing and minors swearing, mentions of alcohol. GN! Reader
Bruce: Tan Lines
It’s moments like these where you wish Bruce didn’t have to spend his nights on the endless pursuit of justice. You knew what you’d signed up for, but you’d missed him all day and god, the feel of his strong fingers massaging after sun into your skin was euphoric. Would you be such a bad guy for trying to convince him to stay home?
“I like this.” His hum pulls you from your train of thought, and you look down to see his fingers trailing against the tan line your shorts had caused. He spares you a quick suggestive glance, the look a wolf might give a rabbit it’s particularly fond of before dipping down to replace his hands with his mouth.
“Ohhh, stay home tonight Brucie?” The look he gives you this time maintains its warmth but there’s an air of warning to it. Despite his simmering combativeness, you add a charming “Please?”
To that he lifts his head, just far enough to deny you of his lips, but close enough that his low voice still seems to reverberate through your body as he speaks. “Crime doesn’t take the night off, neither can I.”
“I know.” You sigh, admitting defeat before the battle has even begun, and he rewards you by assuming his barrage of kisses to your lower body.
“Just don’t go out too early.” You advise, trailing the tip of your finger from ear to ear, estimating the line where his Batman cowl ends. “Don’t want to get any tan lines of your own.”
“Trust me.” There’s humour in his tone now as he works his way upwards, ghosting his 5 o'clock shadow along the skin of your stomach as he prowls closer. “The evening is young, and I have plans for you yet.”
Dick: A/C
The A/C is broken. Again. To combat the heat the whole household has resorted to wearing nothing but their underwear, except of course for Haley who is always naked. Lucky dog.
Additionally, all the windows are open in an attempt to let the cool night air circulate the humid apartment but all it’s really doing is letting in the ambient sound of Blüdhavens boisterous nightlife and countless flies.
“Want one?” Dick asks from the kitchen spaces as he digs into his second ice pop since dinner, you joke about envying his metabolism despite knowing damn well that’s not the real reason for his physique. Although between the food and the heat-induced skipped workout, he’s bloating, just a little bit; the tiniest, most delicious bit of plumpness and you can’t take your eyes off of it. “Are you checking me out?”
“Always.” You reply with a brazen smile, continuing your laser-focused stare even as he begins approaching your spot on the couch.
“How about you stop looking and start touching, huh baby?”
“No.” You finally cease your objectification of his stomach to look him in the eyes. The intended sternness in your tone is stifled by the way his icy confection has turned his lips blue. “I already told you, no sex in this heat until the air con is fixed.”
Despite your posturing, you don’t fight his closing proximity, nor do you stop him from dragging his cool-raspberry-stained tongue along the length of your throat, it’s still cold from the half-eaten lolly and the sensation sends a welcome chill through your body. As inefficient as it may be, you much prefer this method of cooling down to an A/C.
Jason: Sunrise
The metal grate of your fire escape is surprisingly cool against your bare feet. It’s early, pre-sunrise early but the air is still thick, a combination of the arid summer heat and steam of the cities underground. Despite the unpleasant temperature, you settle onto the grill, with nothing but a pillow for comfort and two ice-cold glasses of lemonade.
When 15 minutes pass, and you start to notice a growing tinge of orangeness in the sky, you start to worry you’re being stood up, or worse; something awful has happened. Something that would prevent him from coming home, but then you hear it; The heavy steps of Jason’s steel-toed boots approaching from your apartment’s rooftop.
You glance up just in time to see him dropping down. A loud clang rings out as he hits the floor, causing the whole structure to vibrate and you wonder if he does that every night, surely not, there’s no way you could sleep through it or that your neighbours wouldn’t complain.
“Aren’t you sweating balls?” You ask, taking in his gear as he sits down beside you. The boots, the cargo pants, turtleneck, jacket, gloves, and the full-face mask.
“Nah.” His voice is muffled by the headpiece until he takes it off, shaking his head to support his answer. “It’s weird but I’ve kinda run cold ever since I died, you know?”
Obviously you don’t know, in fact having felt his searing, naked skin pressed to yours on multiple occasions, you highly doubt him, but you nod regardless and hand him his drink. Unlike a man on the chilly side, he chugs half of the icy drink in one go and you wonder if he’ll ever stop jumping from buildings and telling white lies to impress you.
“Want some help warming up?” Before he can respond you lean up, brushing your nose against his and watching as his lids flutter closed in anticipation, his breath is cool on your lips and when you finally press into them you can taste nothing but the tartness of the lemonade. Regardless, it’s heavenly; soft and tender. Every kiss with Jason makes your heart flutter in the same way it had the first time.
When he pulls away you chase after him, eyes only opening to meet his heterochromatic irises when your pursuit for more becomes an abundant failure.
He’s grinning as he tells you; “We’re missing the sunrise.”
“I don’t care.” You answer, trying again, and this time succeeding in drawing him in for another kiss.
Roy: Paddling Pool
If ever anybody asked you to describe a moment of pure domestic bliss, this moment would be a strong contender. Your lower body is submerged in a paddling pool as you bask in the sun, enjoying the occasional splash of water caused by Lian’s uncoordinated but enthusiastic dancing beside you. She too is basking, but hers is under an endless stream of hose water being directed by her father; Roy, who is watching the two of you from a sun lounger, hosepipe in one hand and a non-alcoholic beer in the other.
He's quite the vision, no shoes, no shirt, just tastefully tacky swim trunks and his iconically worn-out grey baseball cap that may be protecting his head, but is doing little to tame his mop of fiery hair. From this angle, you’ve got a great shot of some of his lesser-seen tattoos, but every time you look over at him you find yourself far more smitten with the countless freckles that adorn his chest and shoulders, made darker and more noticeable by the recent heatwave.
“How’s the Heineken?” You ask, genuinely curious how he’s enjoying his first taste of alcohol-free booze.
“Crap.” He replies, lips briefly curving into a self-amused smirk before dropping to woefully panicked as you both turn to look at Lian. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to have been listening in, content in her own toddler babblings. Relieved, he turns his attention back to you and corrects himself. “Um, not good babe.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry.” You offer your condolences, but he seems completely unbothered.
Instead, he turns the glass bottle around in his hands a few times before chucking it over his shoulder. It sails through the air before seamlessly landing in the open bin by your backdoor. Your concern about it leaking into the rest of the recycling is seconded by how impressed you are. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times his trick-shot hit, you’re always at least a little bit captivated by his impeccable aim.
“It’s cool, hon.” He shrugs and leans back into the lounger. His eyes flicker back and forth between you and his child, a slow, contented smile spreading across his face. “Got everything I need right here.”
Bonus:
Hours later, you’re sorting through the soggy contents of the recycling as Roy scoops Lian up in his arms and takes her sleepy frame inside. The sun is still high and bright, but it’s past her bedtime, and it’s been a long, exciting day for her. He dries her with the softest towel he can find, careful to pat down every pruned finger and toe before putting her to bed.
“How was your day, sweetie?” He asks, strong fingers petting her soft hair to help soothe her to sleep.
“Crap!”
Tim: Ice Cream
Tim is still sleeping off a rough, muggy night of crime fighting as you circumnavigate the boat's sad excuse for a kitchen. The bags under his eyes had been growing darker each day under the stress of hunting down a mysterious new bank robber. You’d hoped to lift his spirits by surprising him with a tub of homemade ice cream, but so far all you’d managed to make is a mess.
After having a falling out with the thrifted ice cream maker you’d stuffed in the back of a cupboard months ago, you settled for hand mixing. By the time you put the concoction in the freezer to set, your wrists are aching, and Tim has begun to stir. You’re just finishing up the dishes you’d created when he finally emerges from the bedroom in shorts, flip-flops, and a not-so-summer-appropriate hoodie.
Before you can offer a ‘good morning, Timmybear’ his arms are around your waist, pulling you close from behind and settling the weight of his sleepy head on your shoulder.
“What’s this?” He asks and then he’s licking what you can only assume is a stray splash of the mixture from your cheek with the bravery only a man raised by Batman could possess. It could have been literally anything. “Banana?”
“Chunky monkey actually.” Goddamn. Surprise ruined in less than a minute. Oh well, at least you can give him something to look forward to. “Don’t worry, I didn’t get ice cream without you, I made it for you.”
“I figured.” He hums, sounding so very drowsy despite the ease with which he manoeuvres your body against the kitchen counter so he can keep you close while brewing his morning tea, occasionally planting soft kisses to the side of your neck as his hands move absentmindedly. “You’re the best, you know that? Can’t wait to try it.”
“You figured? How did you figure?” You skip right past the justified praise; he’d been practically comatose since 4 AM, how could he have figured?
“It’s on the ceiling.” He’s right, you look up to see a cream-soaked walnut lodged above you and let out a dramatic sigh as you fall deeper into Tim's arms.
Taglist: @wandalfnation
#gilverrwrites#dc#reader insert#gn reader#bruce wayne/reader#bruce wayne#batman/reader#Batman#dick grayson/reader#dick grayson#nightwing/reader#Nightwing#jason todd/reader#jason todd#red hood/reader#red hood#roy harper#Roy harper/reader#arsenal#arsenal/reader#tim drake/reader#tim drake#red robin/reader#red robin#x reader#divider by @anitalenia
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shoot your shot
k.bakugo | collab intro + m.list
▸ ▸ ▸ warnings: 18+! prohero!bakugo, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, alcohol, dubcon if you really squint
▸ ▸ ▸ wc: idk dude sorry
▸ ▸ ▸ a/n: hbd king! make sure to check out the other writers on the m.list and enjoy!!!
Among the thousands of replies, your pfp caught his eye.
anyone will do, huh?
Bakugo reads over the words a few times. Sure, his alcohol-induced thirst trap selfie was… out of character, but this from you?
Surely, it's an impossibility. He rubs his eyes and falls back into the black, plush leather of his couch, clicking your profile and scrolling through it. You're the quiet girl with the nice tits from insurance, the only person at the agency that he has anything remotely akin to a crush on.
You were there tonight in electric orange and black, stuffed into a booth with the other agency girls; your group sporadically sent him drinks-- those damn daiquiris-- and judging from the laughter pouring out of your booth, you all enjoyed watching him down them.
The one and only Dynamight downing bitch drinks? Hilarious, apparently.
The night got hazy, but he vaguely remembers getting you one-on-one at some point, remembers flashes of your smile, runs of your laughter, and your birthstone pendant hanging on a gold chain just below your collar bone.
Your delicate fingers on his forearm.
His teeth grind together, nostrils flaring as he reads over your words again, fingers flexing before he gropes his bulge. Your voice, seemingly teasing, rings through his brain melodically, but no matter how hard he closes his eyes, he can't remember the interaction.
What did you two talk about? Were you flirting with him? Fuck, did he miss his chance? If he concentrates, he can see the shimmer of your lipgloss reflecting the neon lights in that shitty bar, but everything else is radio silence.
A ding, then a notification flags across the top of his screen: 1 Photo Attached. He taps it and bites his bottom lip.
You're smiling at the camera, winking and throwing up a peace sign in front of expensive looking double doors. Familliar double doors. He recognises the gold embellishments and black glass tinted so dark, its impossible to see through from the outside.
A selfie in front of his apartment building.
Another sound and,
Typing…
Typing…
Typing…
Appears in the chat. He feels stupid just waiting, but if you're really coming onto him, he needs to not scare you away.
gonna buzz me up, mr hero?
He's on his feet at an almost embarrassing speed, unlocking the front door and sending you his floor and room number in the chat.
Then, he paces, pours himself a glass of water, and waits.
Your knock is faint, and he wonders if you've sobered up some, briefly hesitating at the doorknob. He looks through his spyhole and sees you looking this way and that, shifting nervously and fiddling with your hair.
He tugs the door open and leans against it, eyes staring you down. You blink and take a short breath, eyes scanning his naked torso, briefs, muscular thighs--
He clears his throat. "You look nervous."
Your eyes on his leave him a little starstruck. Sure, youre pretty to admire from afar, but up close? He's stupid for getting wasted and forgetting what he said to you.
"Liquid courage has thoroughly worn off." You agree with a nod and a nervous yet dazzling smile.
Fuck, he's so done for.
"Just to be clear, you hit me up." Bakugo says, opening the door and giving you space to enter. "I'm not holding you here against your will."
"What? No, yeah, I totally take the blame on this, one million percent." You agree, stepping into his apartment. He watches your ass in that tight dress as you walk past him, savours the scent of your perfumed skin while you're in his vicinity. "I just thought-- oh my gods," you turn to face him, embarrassed. "This is ridiculous, isn't it? I thought you were like... sending me signals at the bar."
He probably was, but he cant fucking remember.
He gestures for you to follow him into the living room. "I was wasted."
"You grabbed my ass and called me sexy." You laugh, kicking off your heels before stepping onto his carpet.
"Fat fuckin chance, sugar tits." He grumbles, embarrassed by his drunken antics, but then you're grabbing his hand and tugging him back half a step. Before he can even gasp, your lips are on his, your hands pulling him down to you, your tongue running along his lips.
"Yeah, you called me that, too." You breathe, nose to nose as you stare into his eyes.
His hands finally find your waist. "I didn't think you'd be this forward."
"This is how forward you were with me at the bar." You frown then, head tilting to the side. "You honestly don't remember? Now I feel like a predator."
He laughs, then, something full bodied and joyous. "Trust me, sweetheart, you're the prey here."
All logical thinking flies out the window the moment his lips meet yours again. Your bag drops to the floor as he devours you, hands bunching up that little orange dress at your waist and lifting you to wrap your legs over his hips.
You moan when he grinds his length up against you. "Oh my god, are we doing this?" You ask, his mouth assaulting your neck, littering it with kisses and nips as he walks you to his bedroom.
"It's my birthday," he rasps, revelling in the taste of you, the feel of you. It's one thing coveting something, but it's another to finally have it in your hands.
"Happy Birthday, Katsuki." You kiss him on the top of his head, wrapping your arms a little tighter around his neck.
"Being cute isn't gonna make me go any easier on you." He promises, dropping you onto his bed. You just laugh and pull your dress over your head, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra.
"I came prepared to go down on you, but this kinda feels like you want a little more from me." You admit as he tugs off his briefs and covers you with his body.
"What gave you that idea?" He grins, palming your tits and dragging those battle worn hands down your soft torso to rest at your hips. "You sure you're okay with this?"
"What? Yes." You breathe, reaching down to ghost your fingers over his throbbing cock. He hisses before you grip it properly, with purpose, and begin pumping him slowly with your bottom lip between your teeth.
"Fuck," he curses softly, making light work of your panties and kissing you, bucking instinctually up into your hands. "I need to be inside you," he demands huskily, biting down on your lip and looking into your eyes for permission.
"Y-yeah, I want it," you nod feverishly as his fingers test your wet heat, rubbing and probing before sliding in.
"Shit," he huffs as you throw your head back, his fingers exploring you and stretching you out. "Fuck, I can't wait, are you good to go?"
"Stop talking and fuck me, Katsuki," you moan, laying there with your chest heaving and lipstick smudged.
His hands grope your thighs, pushing them up and opening yourself to him. With a curse at the tip of his tongue and his teeth in his bottom lip, he lines himself up and pushes forward.
"Oh--" you moan, before your hand slaps over your mouth.
Bakugo let's you silence yourself while he adjusts to the toe tingling feeling of being inside you. It's heavenly, but it feels like sinning. He pulls back a little before pushing forward, notices your free hand fisting his scarlet sheets beside your head.
After a few more testing thrusts and he stills inside you, his body covers yours, those big, calloused hands drawing up your forearms to interlock your fingers beside your head.
"I wanna hear you cry while I ruin you, pretty girl. You okay with that?" He asks lowly, voice almost a growl.
"Fuck, oh fuck, Katsuki it's so big," you babble, bordering incoherent already.
A feral grin grows on his face. He's gonna fuck you stupid.
"It's okay, baby, you can take it, I know you can," he mumbles condescendingly, kissing your nose gently, then your lips. "As a present, for my birthday."
He can't wait any longer, hips rocking into you, shallowly grinding, searching for that spot deep inside you that makes you moan. You're already gasping, eyes watering as your mouth hangs open, fingers flexing in his grip as your chest starts to heave.
You really are gorgeous like this, panting and wanton beneath him. Ideally, he'd make you cum a few times before he does, but he's been half mast all fucking week, and he really can't wait to fill you up.
"Sorry, baby, I can't hold back anymore." He kisses you deeply, before letting go of your hands and pushing your legs up, hands gripping the backs of your knees, then bruising at your thighs.
He licks his lips, pulls out, and hammers back in. You yelp, but he does it again, setting a pace that wouldn't be sustainable for your average man. It boosts his ego that he's gonna ruin other people for you, but the little breathy ohmygodkatsukifuck that leaves your lips while you scratch at his back is probably going to ruin other women for him.
Shit, your smell, the way you taste and feel-- you're sucking him back in when he tries to pull out, pussy hellbent on milking him before he's done with you. He kisses you while he fucks you, sloppy and messy and wet, and in moments you're a howling mess.
He swallows your cries as your whole body tenses, but he doesn't let himself cum with you, fucking you through it instead.
"Nonononononono..." you mutter, fingernails digging into his traps as you shake your head, pushing him away. "Stop stop, I'm gonna--"
Bakugo's heart flutters, grin feral. "Gonna what? Gonna what?" He grits, continuing to fuck you.
"Gonna-- hnghh!" You tense again, and as he fucks back into you, hot, wet squirt splashes against his groin, dripping all over the both of you and darkening those scarlet sheets maroon.
"Oh shit," he breathes, the feeling of it, the sight of you, the sound of his wet skin slapping against yours sending him over the edge as he fucks his cum into you, filling you up.
You're still mumbling incoherent nonsense when he collapses on top of you, your hands over your face in what he comes to realise is mortification.
"I'm s'sorry, oh my god, what was that? I'm so embarrassed, I--"
"Hey hey hey, are you crying?" He frowns prying your fingers from your face.
"I wet the bed in front of you!" You almost shriek, but he's just glad you're not crying. "Not just any guy, but you!"
"Yeah, and it was the hottest thing ever." He grins, feeling calm for the first time in a long time. "Fuck, I don't even care how the PR team are gonna react; getting you to squirt on me makes it worth it. I'm guessing you don't do that often?"
"Often? I never do that."
"Baby, that was hot as hell." He kisses you, then rolls over, bringing you with him.
"Happy Birthday, I guess?" You smile then, resting on his chest, drawing a finger over one of his more jaggered scars. "You don't remember what you said to me at the bar, do you?"
"I remember your tits?" He shrugs, still riding that post-orgasmic high. You laugh, and when you don't elaborate, he taps your chin so you look up at him. "What did I say?"
You start getting a little shy again. "You asked me on a date, said you were gonna take me somewhere, anywhere I want."
"I did, did I?"
"Mm, then you kissed me and claimed it was your birthday present from me."
"Fuck off," he chuckles then, embarrassed. "What a loser."
"Then I saw your... proposition online..." You mumble, eyes back on that scar.
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm deleting that post, but my offer to you still stands."
"Even though you don't remember making it?"
"Baby, I just filled you with my cum, and I'm feeling like I'd like to do it again real fuckin soon. And maybe even again after that." He pulls you closer, so you're straddling him properly, your lips hovering over his. "If you'll let me."
"I don't know if that's your twisted way of asking me out or if you're looking for a fuck buddy." You pout.
"You wanna be my girlfriend?" He asked, slightly shocked at the thought. Shocked, but not against it.
"Yeah, I do." You smile, that so pretty smile.
"Well shit, when are you moving in?" He asks, half joking.
You laugh, kissing him on the cheek. "Shut up, do you mean it? You really wanna date me?"
"Yeah, I do." He says, heart hammering in his chest.
"Good, thats-- that's good."
"It is, isn't it? Now that we have that outta the way," he sits up, keeping you in his lap. "Round 2 in the shower?"
"You'll have to carry me, I still can't feel my legs." You smile.
"Maybe the bitch drinks weren't such a bad idea, after all." Bakugo grins, pulling you close in a slow, deliberate kiss.
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ORANGE SLICES. ꩜
▸ non-idol!jay x gn!reader ┆ established relationship, DOMESTIC [fluff]
꩜ There is no better way to relax after a long night of assignments than to share an orange with your boyfriend at an ungodly hour.
ps: NOT proofread and written in 30 mins, you've been warned
. . . UNDER THE CUT ⊹ (0.5k words)
Your fingers were sore from typing all night. Your hands were cramped, your head throbbed, and your eyelids felt as if they had anvils tied to them. Most importantly, however, your throat felt dry. And there was only one way to fix that before you jumped into bed.
A glass of water felt the most refreshing in the dead of night. Yet when you stumbled into the kitchen to quench your essay-induced thirst, you hadn’t expected to be met with your boyfriend’s back turned towards you, busying himself with…you weren’t quite sure. As if on command, however, Jay spun around to face you, carrying a small plate of oranges neatly sliced into wedges. “Oh, I was just about to call you over.” He mused, blatantly ignoring your very obvious look of annoyance. You had insisted your boyfriend go to sleep without you that night while you pulled an all-nighter to finally finish the assignment you had been putting off for too long now. You didn’t want him to lose sleep, but he just didn’t listen. Taking a few steps closer, you placed your hands on your hips, but Jay popped an orange slice into your mouth the second you opened them to give him a scolding.
“Sorry,” He grinned sheepishly, “I can’t sleep when you’re not with me.”
There was no way you could ever stay mad at him. Not when Jay knew exactly how to melt your heart and perfectly mould it into the shape of his palms, for only him to hold onto.
You smacked his shoulder playfully and bit into the orange slice, but the juice was anything but sweet. A stinging wave of bitterness crashed over your tongue, and you spat out the empty peel back on the plate. Jay didn’t get the chance to worry over you, since you gave him an answer immediately.
“I just brushed my teeth.” You cringed, the corners of your eyes watering with the acrid feeling in your mouth, but Jay replied with a roar of laughter, and you couldn’t keep your fake-indignation up for very long. “A little sympathy would have been nice.” You laughed instead, stuffing a slice of orange into your boyfriend’s mouth just to quieten his laughter.
Eating a few slices of over-ripe oranges seemed so insignificant, but it was moments like these that you cherished the most. Hunched over a miniscule plate, juice dripping down your fingers and leaving them sticky, enjoying the comfort of silence only broken by little giggles when the oranges begin to taste just a little too bitter for you to handle. That was what made spending time with Jay so beautiful. Enough for you to wish that you could spend the rest of eternity right there at the kitchen table, enough oranges to keep you full till the end of time, making little jokes, stealing chaste kisses, and now hovering over a plate that was emptied long ago. Jay planted a final kiss to your lips just before he walked off to throw the plate into the sink.
The oranges were still bitter, but they tasted so much sweeter on his lips.
꩜ want to read more? check out my masterlist
#𓇼 ― rikiws#jay enhypen#jay x reader#jongseong x reader#park jongseong#jongseong imagines#enhypen jongseong#jay imagines#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#jay fluff#enhypen fluff#jongseong fluff#jongseong enhypen#enhypen jay
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veins & daydreams | s.jy
req ( @saeivra ): jake’s fingers in general
pairings - jake x fem!reader
genre - established relationship, slight suggestive, downbad!reader (i mean who isnt for jake’s fingers)
warnings - lower case intended, mentions of choking
424 wc! masterlist pt 2 ( 18+ )
definitely didn’t write this for a kiss from @saeivra <3
i never thought i’d fall this hard, especially over something as simple as jake’s hands. but here i am, eyes trailing his every movement, completely captivated by the elegance of his fingers, the way they’re long, almost delicate but with this underlying strength that sends a shiver down my spine. his knuckles are slightly pronounced, and the veins… oh, the veins… trace their way down from his wrist, winding like rivers, giving his hands a raw, rugged look that feels unfairly alluring.
i catch myself staring whenever he does the most casual things, reaching to grab his drink, pushing his hair back, or even drumming those fingers against a table. they have this effortless grace, like every movement is precise, practiced. and when he runs his thumb along his lower lip while thinking, i feel my throat go dry. i find myself wondering how his touch would feel against my skin, how it would feel to have those fingers brushing along my collarbone, or trailing down my spine.
it’s embarrassing, honestly, how obsessed i am. even when we’re out together, i’ll catch myself zoning out, just imagining the weight of his hand against my cheek or the way those fingers would feel tangled in my hair, gentle but with that slight possessive grip. the thought of him wrapping those long fingers around mine or pressing his hand to the small of my back keeps me awake at night, my imagination running wild. sometimes, my mind goes even further, imagining them wrapped around my throat, his thumb brushing against my pulse, feeling how fast he makes my heart race.
just as i’m about to snap out of my daydream, jake’s gaze shifts to me, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “you’ve been staring at my hands for a while now, babe,” he teases, tilting his head, and there’s a glint in his eyes that tells me he knows exactly what i’m thinking. “what’s going on in that head of yours?”
my cheeks instantly burn, caught in my thirst-induced trance, but the words spill out before i can stop them. “i was just thinking…” i hesitate, my heart pounding, but then i can’t help myself. “i kind of wish you’d… choke me with them.”
his eyebrows lift, a flicker of surprise in his eyes before they darken with that teasing, mischievous spark that drives me crazy. leaning in, he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, “oh, i can do way more than just choke you, sweetheart.”
jake will hold ur hands if u like/comment/reblog!
PLS SEND MORE REQUEST GUYS!! (any genre)
perm taglist - @ancnymcnzjy @june19190
#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#enhypen#enhypen fic#kpop#jake fic#enhypen jake#jake sim#jake x reader#jake#sim jaeyun#jake fluff#enhypen fluff
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