#twink reader

[potatomountain]

"Little Pet"

Pairing: Yunho x amab reader

au: Werewolf

Warnings: smut, some degradation- mxm.

Word Count: 1.7k

Network: @pirateeznet

Banner by: @itsnotmydejavu

author's note: i am afab but i consider myself nb. Some friends were talking from a male pov and i got inspired so this is for them <3

You were beginning to think no amount of prep was going to make this act any easier on you, or ever, but since you hadn't tried yet you didn't want the anxiety to get the better of you.

Having a man that towered over you in height and width- who's hands alone could wrap around any part of your body with ease- as your mate did little for your confidence. But Yunho never made you feel bad about your size, not once, he would call it cute even as he rested his arm on the top of your head and watched you pout.

You'd huff that you were a man too and had some pride, which was perhaps the main reason that you had pushed and pushed this part back as far as you could. That and the fact you were very human, how were you going to handle a wolf of this size?

Knowing about his packmates sex lives didn't lessen the anxiety either, the marks they would leave on their partners and the way they would be bedridden the entirety of the next day. Hell Jongho nearly broke the arms of his mate, instead destroying the bed they had been on during his rut.

You weren't scared he was going to hurt you, or that you would break- but what if you were too small? What if he didn't like it when he saw how small you were everywhere.

What if you weren't good enough? What if you couldn't please him?

You already knew what his cock looked like, but never once had you shown yours. Not until now.

He had come to you and let you know his rut was going to start soon and that he wanted to try things before it got to that point and he hurt you on accident. You couldn't tell him the idea excited you, but now you were nervous again.

"Are you sure about this?" Yunho sat on his bed in just his boxers, his bulge obvious and he wasn't even hard yet. Yet here you were in just your underwear and it wasn't even obvious like his.

You nodded, taking a deep breath and stepping closer. "Y-yes." It's not like you hadn't done anything sexual, kissing and making out and fuck could he devour you. Several months the two of you had been dating since he announced you were his mate, but that didn't seem to be enough to ease your worries that one look at you and he wouldn't want you. "I love being your mate I'm just... anxious."

"Tell me about it." He patted his knee for you, pulling you onto it when you stepped closer. "I know I dated girls a lot but your gender doesn't matter to me you know."

"I-I know but- I'm not exactly much of a man either."

He cupped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. "I don't love you for what's between your legs." He kissed your forehead, then your cheeks, nose and finally mouth. "And I very much want you."

Melting into his kisses, he practically chased the anxiety away with those few words. "I'm yours Yunho."

It always made you feel foolish how much you question his desire when he acted like this: like he was going to devour you whole and still wouldn't get enough of you.

"Mm my pet?" He pulled you further against his lap, one leg on either side.

You hummed in response, pressing close and wrapping your arms around his neck. His back was arched to hold you close and still kiss you, hands on your thighs to pull you right against his his growing hard on.

"I've been thinking about this for so long." One of his hands slipped into your underwear and grabbed the entirety of an ass cheek. The growl he let out when his fingers brushed the blug you were wearing was primal and had your own body reacting.

You're cock twitched against the fabric of your underwear, gasping out as he moved his lips roughly to your neck. "You smell so damned good. You'll tell me to stop if it's too much right?"

It seemed Yunho had his own anxieties about this as well, which further eased your own. "Of course baby." You tilted your head to give him better access, breath hitching as his fangs scrapped your nape.

He flipped you onto your back on the bedm hovering over you as he tugged your underwear down and off. Before you could even voice a protest, your legs were in the air and spread, giving him a full view of your bottom. Your hands flew to your face out of embarrassment, watching him through your fingers as he just stared.

"Are you teasing me?"

At the acrylic massive plug protruding from your hole or your clearly small cock, you couldn't tell- but he looked more than pleased: he was drooling. "You prepped?"

"Mhmm- I know how big you are." You whined out, whole body flinching as he reached between your legs, his thumb pressing the end of the toy to push it a bit further in. Your cock twitched, leaking precum in response. "Yunho~"

"Fuck- so tiny all over huh? I love it." He moved his hand up and wrapped it entirely around your cock, smirking at how easily he covered it. "Is this what you were anxious about?"

"Mhmm-" You whined as he twisted it just right, your hips bucking into his hand. "I-I was worried it wouldn't be enough."

For a moment the hard expression of lust was replaced with one of care and softness. "It's enough baby boy. So is your cute little ass and these cute fucking peaks of yours." He moved his hand up and pinched both of your nipples, wolf-like grin replacing the soft frown.

You could hear the slick sounds of the lube both in your hole and as he lubed up his own cock, his lips moving to your peaked nipples and scraping his teeth over them roughly. Things were going so fast you weren't sure you could ask him to stop even if you wanted to- and you mostly certainly didn't want to stop.

He bucked his hips against your ass, watching your expression. "Maybe- depends on if you like it? I can't see with those cute hands hiding that face of yours I adore. How am I going to kiss you?"

Whining, you let your hands fall away, just for him to grab them and pin them above your head. "Hold them there little one- no more hiding."

You obeyed, breathing heavily as your cock was weeping for stimulation. You watched as he pushed your knees up further, biting down on his lip as he stared down at your waiting hole again. "Can I pull it out?" When you nodded, he tugged on the plug, eyes flickering to yours as your breathing hitched and you grabbed the blankets above you. He slowly pulled it out, growing more and more excited from your reaction until the toy was pulled out with a pop. "Fuck I need you."

He crashed his lips down onto yours with newfound desperation, his hands working off his boxers and discarding them to the side. He pulled away only to reach for the lube on the table, giving you only a quick second to breath before he was devouring your every breath with strokes of his lips. You felt empty with the plug, but not for long as he pushed two fingers in with ease, scissoring them to stretch you out. The plug had been inanimate but with the two long appendages moving inside pleasure shot through you straight to your dick and your head.

Not when he pulled his fingers out and reached up to grabbed your wrists, nor when you felt his tip prod your entrance and push in. He pulled his lips away, holding one of your legs up so far your knee touched the bed and you could see his massive cock pushing into your when you looked down. Moaning as inch by inch he somehow managed to fit himself inside you, your head swam with ecstasy and pain alike.

He didn't push in fully, stopping a little more halfway and breathing heavily. "I don't think- fuck I'm sorry pet- I-" He was panting heavily, fangs elongating and nails sharp on your skin. "I think i triggered my rut. Fuck-" With one harsh thrust he pushed in the remainder of his length, a high pitched cry ripped from you. He apologized over and over like a chant as his hips took on a life of their own, brutally fucking your barely prepped hole.

His eyes were bright like his wolf's, the chants turning to growls as he shook the entirety of the bed with his thrusts. You should mind, you should care about the underlying pain under the massive amount of pleasure he was giving you by constantly rubbing your prostate. Your cock was red and weeping, whines and moans leaving you as tears pricked your eyes.

The sounds he made were too guttural to make out most. "So tiny... cute fucking dick... little pet... tight fucking hole-" What you could make out had you reeling with even more lust and desire.

"W-Wanna cum Y-yunho... please..." He had you on edge so quickly, but you were begging for the slightest stimulation on your cock. Something to push you that rest of the way.

He was quick to oblige, large hand wrapping around your tiny dick and applying pressure in just the right ways. You came quickly, crying out his name as white hot spurts escaped his fist and made it onto your stomach and all over his hand.

Did he stop there? No. He flipped your over with ease, one large hand on the center of your back and holding you down as his relentless thrusts continued until you could feel the knot pushed further into you. He bent over your small frame, pinning you to the bed as he licked along the back of your neck.

"Mine- my mate. My little pet- fucking mine!" He bit down, one more harsh thrust before you could feel him filling you up while simultaneously drawing blood from the bite- marking you as his permanently.

Your poor cock twitched from the overstimulation, tears having escaped your eyes from the moment he had flipped you over.

You weren't anxious anymore but you also were well aware that tomorrow you weren't leaving the bed... or maybe all week.

Taglist- none for male specific pieces. If you would like to be, fill out the form on my profile and leave a comment!

[sweetheart4you]

AAHAHHHHHHH YOUR WRITIYNG IS AMAZING AHSKSBDHSJSBSBDBDBDBDNN

IF YOURE NOT TOO BUSY COULD I REQUEST GENERAL YANDERE HCS OF KURAPIKA WITH A MALE READER WHOS A BIT OF A….twink? I just think it would be funny for kurapika to have a twink bf lol

also happy Halloween !!!!

-🎹

I am falling in love with you more- thank you for the compliments, Happy Halloween! I did base the style mostly off of mine. Its also pretty short, sorry about that-

First, Kurapika would be kinda confused. He wouldn't be mean or anything, just confused.

Eventually, he'd start loving seeing you in your style. It reminded him of you. After all, you were the first person he met to have that style.

Seeing you in a cute black crop top and skintight black ripped jeans made him want to hug you and never let go. He really couldn't help himself.

When Leorio hits on you, Kurapika's eyes start to go red, and Leorio ends the day with a bunch of injuries. He knows you won't go with Leorio, and he knows Leorio is joking, but he can't help it. If anyone else does it— their body will be found the next day.

Kurapika is touch starved, so he loves cuddling. He loves it when you two sleep together, partially because he can feel your body and not feel like a pervert, and partially because you always look so cute, sleeping is no exception.

He loves doing those couples matching outfits with you. Halloween and Christmas are no different. He loves knowing you two look similar enough that people know you're a couple.

Overall, he just loves your style. He loves you too.

[cryobabiess]

Pairing: Emperor Caracalla x concubine!reader

Summary: After a public tantrum at a senator's gathering, Geta sends Caracalla's most beloved concubine to comfort his mad brother. Tags: hurt/comfort, slightly NSFW, implied/mentioned sex, Caracalla has serious mommy issues, nipple play, breastfeeding :/ (sorry), short fic, Caracalla is obsessed with your big naturals I guess idk AN: I'm not sure if there's any Otessa Moshfegh enjoyers out there, but this lil mini fic is inspired by Lapvona. Caracalla's man-child vibe reminded me of Merek, so naturally I had to write the most strange and off-putting fic to satisfy my weird-girl impulses. Enjoy, freaks!

Hurt by his brother’s callous words, the divine emperor Caracalla had fled the senator’s banquet in a fit of rage. It only takes a single tense glance from Emperor Geta for you to receive his silent command to follow after his mad brother. It does not take long to find him.

Like always, he hides away under a golden table tucked in the far corner of the throne room. His sniveling echoes off the tall marble walls. You slowly approach his curled up form, as if not to startle a wild hare.

“Caracalla. You must come out now.” You call his name softly.

“I will not.” He croaks through his tears, turning his back towards you. With a sigh, you sink to your knees, extending your open arms towards him.

You wait for Caracalla to find his sense. After a few moments, He finally turns to you to reveal his face—pale, rosy, and wet.

“Has brother sent you to scold me? I am no child!” Spite coats his words. You smile at the absurdity. He could order your head on a pike if he so pleased, but prefers for you to indulge his brooding. A god-king with the whims of a spurned child.

“No, I do not seek to scold, little prince. Come now, so that I may hold you.”

And with that, the emperor crawls to you.

He settles into your arms and you cradle his torso, the luxurious fabric of his ornate robes pooling at your lap. His cheek rests atop your bosom like a newborn babe—he weeps like one too.

“It is unjust! Brother always has the last word, yet I am eldest!” Caracalla laments, his tears wet the bodice of your stola.

You use your free hand to smooth tendrils of copper hair away from his damp face. A tantrum of this magnitude was not uncommon for the young emperor, though you often wondered how a man could display such behaviors at the age of twenty and one. Caracalla was distinctly tender, despite his blood lust. His ego was delicate, easily wounded by Geta’s pragmatism and rigid sensibility.

“He wishes to be rid of me, I know it.” He sniffles, his hand reaching to fiddle with the pendant resting at the base of your neck. You smile softly despite growing weary of this routine.

“Don’t be without reason, mea dulcis. You are invaluable to Rome and all her subjects. Geta speaks without tact when he is cross. You must know this too, hmm?”

Caracalla thinks for a moment, brows knitting together in contemplation.

“He is unkind. It should have been him to suffer in the womb, not I.”

You can’t help but laugh at his juvenile description of his brother's malicious cruelty. Frustration flashes across Caracalla’s face as water threatens to brim his eyes again.

“Peace, my lamb. No more tears.” You coo, using a thumb to swipe away at the wetness—but it is too late. Your laughter invited a new wave of angry tears. He buries his face in your breasts, jeweled fingers dragging down the fabric of your stola. His mouth quickly finds your nipple. You hiss, resisting the urge to pull him away from your flesh.

It brings the emperor great comfort to suckle you. Geta had explained Caracalla’s affliction once before.

“Our own mother denied him her breast; she believed him to be cursed. Perhaps he held on to that trangression. He called for a wet nurse until the age of ten and two. My brother has always suffered from madness, you see.”

You had taken prior notice of this habit. After he fucks you like an animal in heat, he often drifts back to your tit, lazily sucking and nibbling until sleep takes him. You thought nothing of it until emperor Geta revealed it’s cause to you.

And though you had no milk to bear, tranquility came over the man as if he had been fed. Eyes closed and breath even, he plays with a tendril of your hair as he rolls your swollen nipple in his hot mouth—lost in bliss. It is odd, but you pity him. With his lips so flush against you and his expression finally at peace, one could forget the madness, the carnage, the rage.

Sometime later, Caracalla regains his composure, standing straight with his shoulders back, returning to a proud and stately posture. He crudely wipes the spit from his chin with the back of his hand.

“You will attend to me in my chambers tonight.” He commands before returning to the festivities.

[rhaeaives]

Leave me with him and he will end up pregnant.

[kokokoula]

when it comes to you, tsukishima finds himself being protective of you without even trying.

he hears your worries about the same friend for maybe the hundredth time, about how they got mad at you for something incredibly harmless and for you being you. he rolls his eyes at your friend's overbearing insecurity and their lack of taste in people as he seemingly reads his book. he had suggested you find a better friend, but you insist they make you happy. he scoffs at that. he himself already makes you happy, why would you need someone else who can't even give you half the joy he does? he doesn't say that though, instead he insists in turn that he comes along with you the next time you two meet. he can already imagine yamaguchi surprised at him for volunteering to go to a social gathering.

"you won't scare them off?" you make him promise and as much as he wants to make them feel sorry for ever hurting you, he sighs and promises. on that day, he stands right behind you, keeping an eye out for every single interaction you have with your friend. you introduce kei, and his looming expression doesn't change. he sees their uncomfortable smile and avoiding of his gaze, and couldn't help but smirk. you nudge him with your elbow, and tsukishima ruffles your hair. "don't worry, pipsqueak." he says, keeping his voice low.

tsukishima isn't a fan of any sort of pda, but throughout the entire time, he makes sure to have some sort of physical contact with you. it could be an arm around your shoulders, or just rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. the last thing he wants is you feeling anxious about your friend, despite you assuring him you were perfectly ok. you know of his well intentions, and at the end of the day when your friend has left, you treat him to strawberry shortcake.

"what's this?" he asks as he digs his fork into the cake. you intertwine your fingers with his free hand.

"just for you being, well, you." you grin and he melts like he always do when you smile at him. he gives you the first bite.

"you're gonna be the death of me, love."

[giantkillerjack]

Me: hm, I want something to put on the TV as background noise... Huh. Looks like YouTube is recommending something called The Last Unicorn. That's perfect, it's probably some old shitty animation that has aged poorly! I can watch it ironically!

Me, 2 hours later as the credits roll: *crying, cheering, buying the book, composing the songs*

Me, 2 weeks later: So I have compiled all of the quotes from the book that I think could make good tattoos, and also, HOW HAVE I NEVER LEARNED ABOUT HOW THE LAST UNICORN FUCKING SLAPS??? This gay-ass little fairytale fed my soul! Watered my crops! Transed my gender! Can't believe I heard of this story from youtube recommendations, of all places!!

[spider-stark]

GOLD

Aeron Bracken x Blackwood!Reader

Summary - You go sneaking through Bracken territory for some time alone with Aeron.

Warnings - mentions of blood, mentions of fighting, no real plot, hurt/comfort, subtle rivals-to-lovers, aeron grabbing boobies lmao, maybe some grammar errors idk

Word Count - 1.6k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

As the sun dips below the horizon, the beginnings of dusk paint the land around you in dim, muted hues. The forest buzzes with life—crickets chirp and frogs croak, rodents scurry through the undergrowth as birds-of-prey call out overhead. 

Unlike the nocturnal creatures around you, you take great care to stay quiet, fearing that if you don’t, the very soil beneath your boots might finally recognize you as an intruder. 

So you keep every footfall careful and deliberate; avoiding sticks and leaves in favor of plush, noiseless grass. Even your breaths are calculated, soft as the spring breeze rustling the leaves overhead. 

After all, you’re playing a dangerous game venturing this far from home. To be several miles from the vastness of Blackwood Vale, traipsing on the wrong side of the boundary stones, no less… You were gambling with your life—fair game for any Bracken man wishing to bloody their sword with Blackwood blood. As the daughter of Lord Samwell Blackwood, you would make a fine prize, too. 

But you had grown comfortable in these woods the past several months. Familiar, too—learning which paths were best avoided and which clearings were most often used for hunting or goofing-off. You learned to remain invisible, weaving through the trees like a wraith—invisible, unseen and unheard, as you drift towards your usual meeting spot. 

Well—mostly invisible, you suppose. 

You’re less than a few feet from your spot—a glistening creek branching off from the Red Fork, several miles off any main trail—when a twig snaps! behind you. 

Your spine turns to steel, every muscle locking up as alarm bells roar in your mind. A second too late, you reach for the dagger at your thigh. Trembling fingers hardly graze the hilt before an arm wraps itself around your waist, tugging you backwards into a crushing embrace. 

A single finger jabs at your chest, just off-center between your breasts, pressing through the thin fabric of your tunic. 

Just above your heart, you realize as it hammers against your ribs. 

“Got you.” Aeron’s voice quells your nerves, warmth tickling your skin as he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck. “If I were anyone else,” he murmurs, “you would be dead right now.” 

He taps his finger against your chest—once, then twice—to emphasize his point. As much as it annoys you, you know that he’s right. Anyone else and they wouldn’t have hesitated to send a blade tearing through your chest. 

You won’t admit it, though. 

“You scared me,” you grumble instead, trying to sound annoyed with him. It’s a hopeless objective—it’s too hard to be upset with him when his lips brush over your still-racing pulse, kissing up your neck. 

“Did I?” Aeron asks, playing coy. “Strange. I thought you Blackwoods claimed to be fearless.” 

Teeth graze against your earlobe, nibbling lightly. You bite your lip, twisting around in his hold so that you’re face-to-face. “And I thought Brackens were all insipid creatures,” you tease him. “So I suppose we both deviate from the norm of our Houses, don’t we?” 

Aeron laughs—a sound so sweet it makes your teeth ache. “I suppose so.” 

He pulls you closer, hands falling low on your hips. In all your life, you’ve never met someone so warm before—the sheer closeness of your bodies like standing too close to the edge of a fire. It sets your every nerve ablaze, desire coiling in your belly like a fiery serpent. 

He presses his forehead to yours and, for a moment, you assume he’s going to kiss you. 

Instead, your breaths only mingle in the space between you, his lips barely grazing yours as he whispers, “Still—I need you to be more careful. Especially here.” 

Here. 

That one word is like a bucket of water, dousing the flames lapping at your skin. Desire swiftly turns to nausea at the realization that, even in the arms of your beloved, you were still unwelcome in this part of the Riverlands. Still an intruder. 

You step back, Aeron’s hands falling from your hips. “As if you’re one to lecture me about being careful.” 

Neatly-groomed brows knit together as he watches you turn your back, abandoning him in favor of the gurgling creek. Confusion laces his words as he hurries after you. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“That Benji has a big mouth.” You sit in your usual spot by the creek's edge, your legs stretched out in front of you. You look up at Aeron with a raised brow. “Did you truly think he wouldn’t tell me about you insulting him this morning?” 

“He was trespassing on Bracken land,” Aeron argues. 

You give him a flat look that screams: As if you’re one to talk. 

Aeron had snuck onto Blackwood land more times than you could count—with far more nefarious intentions than Benji. If your brother ever found out about all the times Aeron had snuck into your bedchambers at Raventree… 

“Well he also called me a spineless dolt,” Aeron grumbles. His lips, naturally flushed and oh-so-kissable, turn to a sullen pout. “What was I supposed to do? Just stand there and take it?” 

You fight the urge to scream Yes! at the top of your lungs. 

Instead, you draw in a breath. “You know better than to get into it with him, Aeron. You said it yourself: Blackwoods are fearless—especially Benji.” 

He shakes his head, strands of sandy-colored hair brushing his shoulders. “Feckless is more like it.” 

“Tread lightly, Bracken.” You bristle, shooting him a look of warning. “He’s still my brother.” 

He doesn’t apologize—and you don’t expect him to. After all, both of you know that there’s some truth to his words. 

Benji has always been… difficult. 

Quick to anger and slow to forgive, he was one of many reasons why you kept your feelings for Aeron hidden. 

Your father could be persuaded to accept such a betrothal, you think. After all, it was common—if a bit futile—for Blackwoods and Brackens to wed in the name of peace. At the very least, for the sake of your happiness, he would consider it. 

But Benji… 

“I know I cannot expect you to just let him walk all over you,” you tell Aeron, a bit softer now. “But you know how Benji is.” You turn to the water by your feet. It ebbs and churns, bubbling as it laps at the stones lining the edge. “How detached he gets.” 

It petrifies you, sometimes. How, in a fight, Benji becomes someone else entirely. Should he ever decide to do more than simply taunt Aeron, you know without doubt which of them would survive such a fight. 

“If the two of you ever… If Benji hurts you–” 

Tears sting the back of your throat, the heavy words clinging to your tongue like molasses. You don’t want to think about that—but you can’t stop, either. Silver lines your eyes, tears threatening to spill over as Aeron drops to the ground beside you. 

Without hesitation, he tells you, “You’re right.” Soft, uncalloused hands gently cup your face, urging you to look at him. He brushes a thumb along the apple of your cheek. “I was careless—to think only of my pride instead of what it might do to you if your brother…” Aeron pauses, thinking. “If he went too far. For you, I’ll take better care to hold my tongue around him.” 

Your voice is quiet, hardly perceptible over the gurgling water, when you say, “Do you promise?” 

A childish thing to ask, perhaps. 

Yet Aeron obliges without question. 

“I swear it on the Gods.” 

Slowly, relief begins to untangle the knot in your stomach. 

“But,” Aeron’s lips quirk into a small, teasing smile, “only if you swear to be more cautious when coming here. It seems you’ve gotten far too comfortable wandering through Bracken territory.” A bit more solemn, he adds, “You should walk with your dagger out, at the ready, just in case—at least while you’re still a Blackwood.” 

A wrinkle forms between your brow. “While I’m still a Blackwood?” You ask, amusement dancing in your tone as you echo his earlier words, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“That you won’t be a Blackwood forever—eventually, your father will have to marry you off,” Aeron drones, his hands falling from your face to your waist. “Such is the natural order of things.” 

You try not to giggle as he starts pawing at you, pulling you onto his lap, your thighs caging his hips. “True—but I had no idea you spent so much time thinking of my future.” 

Aeron’s hands dip lower, moving from your waist to slip beneath the hem of your tunic. “I’m always thinking of you.” 

“Have you any particular House in mind, then?” Brushing a lock of sandy hair from his face, you jest, “I can pass your suggestions along to my father.” 

Fingertips trace along your ribcage, inching higher and higher. His palms graze your breasts and suddenly breathing becomes a difficult task—the warmth of his touch reigniting the familiar spark in your belly. 

“Well—” he leans in close, smooth lips hovering over yours—“I’m quite partial to how you might look in gold.” 

“Careful,” you warn—though it's interrupted by a hiss as he toys with your nipples, rolling and pinching, grinning at your reaction. “That almost sounds like a proposal, Bracken.” 

Aeron nearly moans into your mouth as your thighs tense, rolling your hips against his, his voice gruff as he asks, “And would that be such a horrible thing?” 

He doesn’t wait for your answer. Doesn’t want it, maybe. 

Instead, he catches your lips with his. You melt into it—his touch, his taste. His tongue glides against yours, your fingers tangling in his hair and—for a moment—you let everything else fall away, your fears and worries fading into insignificance.  

No, you think. That wouldn’t be horrible at all.

a/n - so I actually ended up not liking this at all once I got about halfway through editing---honestly, something about the ending just is not vibing for me and there really just isn't any true plot here lol. but, with that being said, I had already written it so I decided to go ahead and post it because there needs to be more aeron/amos bracken content in the world. and yes, I did totally just use the name aeron because I like it more than the name amos lmao.

anyways, hope you got some sort of enjoyment out of this! time for me to go write more benji fics🫡

[empress-ruby]

Me: I don't have a type

Also me:

I love traumatized blondes with good fashion sense✨️

[z-xmyers]

if i see ONE MORE post that make FUCKING COOPER T. HOWARD A FUCKING TWINK.

DO YOU SEE HIS ARMS??

SEE THAT FUCKING SHOULDER MASS? HE ISNT SOME FUCKING ANIME BOY TWINK, HES A FUCKING RADIATED GHOUL COWBOY. PUT SOME FUCKING RESPECT ON MY COOP.

[winnysplayground]

absolutely screaming

[pequins]

LOOK HOW FRAIL HE IS SOMEONE FEED THIS STARVING BOY 💔💔💔

[straightoutthehexcore]

𝙃𝙚𝙭𝙚𝙙 <3

Side note can we talk about how this version of Viktor and hexcore (rainbow) Viktor are the best versions of him? Did bro say Glorious Ovulation because holyyyyyyyyyyyy 0///0

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧: Viktor my beloved <3

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: Just general romantic/some NSFW headcanons for my favorite boy. You can picture these with whichever Viktor you want (I guess), but I feel S1 Viktor fits best.

𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: NSFW themes (edging, eating out, praise kink on both sides if you squint, public sex fantasies), AFAB reader (mostly intended to be fem! reader but I'll be extra careful for my nonbinary/ftm friends)

𝙍𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

First off, I wholeheartedly believe in asexual/gay Viktor, and I am 100% a JayVik shipper, but a girl can also dream that he's bisexual with a male preference. It's a stretch, I know.

That's what we get for liking our men fruity.

Absolutely adores acts of service (his favorite), but physical touch (like the forehead touch that zaunites do, and other subtle movements) and verbal reassurance are things that make him feel appreciated.

Not huge on displaying his affections anywhere but in private. Nobody would even know that you guys are together and he likes it that way. He already has enough eyes on him, though they're mainly on Jayce.

Not big on names either, and idk if Czech exists in the LoL universe (as saddening as it is). He sticks with mentioning you as his "partner," though a "love" will sometime slip out when the two of you are alone.

"Can you please pass me those notes, my love?" "Do you need any help, love? You look... frustrated." "My cane is all the way across the room, can you please bring it to me, my love?"

You have to try your damnedest to either get into his lab to see him or to get him to turn in for the night. He reasons that this research is vital to his well-being, but so is rest. It usually doesn't work, so you at least bring him something to eat/drink.

I look at that man and think "pathetic twink," but with his attitude/personality, I can actually see him as more of a dominant figure in a romantic relationship. He is very sassy, he is assertive, and he is blunt. He doesn't look like he'd be like that, so it's a welcome surprise.

Generally a patient partner and is perfectly fine with slow-moving relationships. Actually, he prefers them. Not only does he enjoy the feeling of quiet, calm yearning, but he sees no reason for turbulence if one is trying to create a lifelong connection (which is what he generally looks for).

Viktor is generally really thoughtful, and even when you don't think he's listening, he'll remember the events of your day with perfect accuracy and even the food you mentioned eating this morning. Even the way you phrase things, he has sharp memory and is very considerate and attentive.

𝙉𝙎𝙁𝙒 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

I headcanon that he is 100% a virgin

Switch, but top leaning. Let me explain.

Just as I said he was more dominant in romantic relationships, once he is comfortable with a partner, he also becomes more sexually dominant as well. This might take him a while but I SWEAR it's worth it.

Limited mobility hinders a lot of things he wishes he could do (he'd be more experimental if not for it). He gets really insecure about his body, so he needs lots and lots of reassurance. He sometimes psychs himself out and gets a little worried that he's leaving you unsatisfied.

More of a giver than a receiver, he takes more pleasure in feeling your fingers in his hair while he overstimulates you with his tongue. Very skilled for someone who has NEVER done that stuff.

He is such a sweet dom, mostly ever lets out whimpers and small moans, as well as pure, sweet compliments, or the very rare tease. However, if you ever hear him curse under his breath, you know it's good.

Prettiest fucked-out expression EVER, eyes rolled back, head thrown back, back arching, the whole shabang.

Mainly has you riding him, his face, etc. One time he told you that you didn't need to hover and it was okay for a LITTLE but then he found it difficult. He still loves to have you fully seated while he works his magic.

Into edging and is really cheeky about it. He'll make the most smug expressions while eating you out or... rather, stopping before you finish. Part of him likes seeing you struggle, it's funny to him.

Absolutely communication driven, but gets a bit more confident as the relationship progresses. He doesn't want to overstep, and wants to know what you want/don't want, but will make use of that knowledge later.

Cannot be coerced out of work with sex. Thanks for trying. Maybe when he gets home, but he's usually either sleeps at the lab or is too sleepy at home. It is an unwelcome distraction and it genuinely frustrates him.

Speaking of the lab, he does feel really flustered and ashamed to admit that he has fantasies about you sitting on the desk and him going at it-- tongue, dick, all of it. It isn't a huge thing for him, but it pops into his head every once in a while.

11/10 aftercare, though you wish your already debilitated partner wouldn't try to rush around after he exerted himself so much. He rushes around to get you cleaned up, make you tea, all of it. He insists on doing things for you first.

I hope I fed the Viktor enjoyers, I love you guys and hope you're doing well after the events of S2. Stay strong Viktor nation, and as for Jayce...?

Jaybe.

This is my first Arcane headcanon post and definitely not my last. :D

Thanks for reading! Rosey <3

[ozzgin]

I like the idea of the yokai squad with a darling who's already shorter than average with their peers, so they're just miniscule next to Suma and Kiritsubo. They're all traveling and come across a fruit tree and Suma is ready to pick them but reader is like WAIT. I got this. And climbs him like a jungle gym until they're standing on his shoulders, now high enough to pick fruit

The way you described it immediately made me think of this.

[tearsofcalamity]

ok read it. i am now unbelievably horny that was so good!!!! i just loove the idea of reader being barely awake, seeing aven Existing and going i need that twink destroyed Yesterday.

now bear w me cause while aven was going through the 5 stages of grief in that quest i was going through the infinite stages of horny and Thinking: i want soft sex w him really really bad he'd be my angel my pretty boy my golden little star! but the mf would be SUCH a tease! like he'd love you being gentle but after a while he'd start asking to "please, go rougher" and that he can "handle it" you'd go "no, baby, i want to love you softly" and he shuts up. and then you think he's given up but suddenly he is. all. over. you every second of everyday. he's not letting you do any work, his hand is on your thigh whenever you sit down next to him, he's whispering in your ear abt how good your dick (strap lol) makes him feel while yall are in public. just doing everything in his power to rile you up, so you will finally fuck the brains out of him. and when you finally snap and grab him by the arm and toss him on the bed all rough & furious he is Overjoyed, crazy fucking smile on his face. too bad your plans include taking him apart slowly and painfully, denying his release again and again while calling him all the sweet names under the sun before finally giving him what he's been begging for<3

LORD... LORD HAVE MERCY ON MY SOUL ... !!!!!

no listen to me. he's so pent up and eager to have you just bend him in half and fuck him to the point where he's sobbing, he's so confident he can take it just fine. not that he minds you being so gentle with him, it still feels incredible, but he wants to feel what it's like to have your gaze dark with hunger on him as you fuck him into the sheets til he can't even breathe through his sobs.

but hear me out. aventurine can NOT take it. he's soooo sure of himself, doing all that teasing. playing footsie at fancy restaurants where you could easily get caught were he to go further, standing behind you to subtly rut against your back and pant right into your ear about how good it feels, begging you to just palm him just a lil bit, he promises he won't cum yet! no one will notice, he swears!

once you get him on the bed, he's so fucking excited, he can't believe he's actually got you all to himself and he can just tell by the look in your eyes you've got a rough night planned for him. but then you're switching between rough and soft, pinning him down while you jerk him without mercy and bring him to the edge over and over and over. he tries to hold out but he's sobbing and sniveling by the end of it, apologizing for riling you up and being bad in public. he just wants to hear you praise him, have your strap in him, but you won't give him what he wants.

eventually avennie's tears win you over, but you're not going to be gentle tonight. promise him he can cum with you inside him and then just absolutely pound him into the mattress until he's seeing stars. he's choking on every moan, and once you start throwing the petnames into the mix again, he's spurting out his load pathetically onto the sheets.

call him angel, darling, sweetheart, pretty boy, lovely, and don't forget to tell him how good he's being, of course. but don't stop when he cums. he had been begging you all day to be rough with him, to fuck him dumb, right? so don't stop when he finishes, instead, double down and overstimulate him until the pillow he's clutching onto is half-soaked with his tears and drool, until you have to hold his hips upright in order to keep fucking into him and nailing his achey prostate. maybe start jerking him here too, watch him wail into the pillow and thrust his hips back for more pleasure in spite of the overwhelming sensations he's going through...

I can't tell you whether this is gonna make him get more frisky in public to get the same ass ramming next time or if he's going to accept going back to the soft lovin you laved on him before. maybe both

[readngandweepng]

a nsft brief glimpse into my mind here but god i love men who can’t help but beg for you in their mother tongue because they just feel so good they can’t think straight enough to stick to one language. even hotter when you can’t understand them so they’re just bucking their hips as they prattle away, and maybe you can hear a “please” or a call of your name through the rambling before it’s cut short as they cum. and if you can understand them it makes them reach their peak even faster when you abide by a command they weren’t even aware they blurted out in the midst of their mind literally breaking.

actually, might even be hotter to fuck someone with an entire language barrier between you, where the only understanding you have is that you want to fuck each other. you wouldn’t need to exchange words to get the hint when they get on their back or stomach and basically present themselves to you, and if that somehow doesn’t get the message across they’ll put their mouth to use by getting on their knees and fishing your cock out. when you actually fuck them is when they won’t be able to stop talking, and regardless of what you say or how you say it, they’ll moan and whine all the same because language barrier aside they just want to get fucked.

i was gonna rant about thorns (from arknights, who i'll post about soon btw) in my tags but it got too long so im doing it under the cut here lmao

so thorn's eng voice got released and oh my god. i kind of need thorns. like i NEED him. i could single-handedly repopulate iberia if i had to. i would be the worst doctor because all i would want to do is fuck thorns. i want him to speak spanish to me i want to fuck him so hard that he can't speak english anymore someone would have to physically restrain me from breeding him. also off topic but i can imagine him literally making his own t shots because like seriously he probably would do it for fun. ftm thorns he'd be really flat chested already and wouldn't feel the need to bind either. and he'd be so fertile ugghh........

[sharkenedfangs]

What do I need to do to get a fic of sub crossdressing male pc begging Bailey to be their first time ( first everything really)? I don't even care about wether PC gets railed like we wish, I honestly highkey just want your take on it.

— ☆ “SIMMERING BENEATH.”

— sucks when your annoyingly bratty, yet pretty bastard of an opthan manages to get past your tight-held clutches, doesn’t it? mister bailey. 1.8k wc

— “the fuck do you want, asher?” : wrote this on the way back home, so on the sort of.. subway thingies, it’s not called that where I am, but they do resemble that and felt fucking nauseous, so apologies in advance if it’s shit. was too good to fully pass up on this one, though couldn’t turn it into a full-on lengthy one due to being busy with other current things. still tried to input every aspect you’ve asked for. yeah, may it be up to your standards then, anon.

Fucking fuck.

No, hell— that wouldn’t truthfully encapsulate the sheer idiocy of his muddled actions even then, because god— fucking shit, why would a man of the likes of Bailey — relatively known, if not factually remembered as the cold, logical one in town — stupidly fall for some mere trickery, childish ploy fabricated by your own stubborn whims? Or, to be quite precise, those pathetic taunts of yours that any man possessing the slightest nerve of a goddamn functional brain, wouldn’t have dumbly caved in to.

Talking about the depraved perverts that’d foolishly slip between the evidently, way too small cracks unfitting for their same, way too fucking large bodies — of the barely opened windows the dumb orphans would forgetfully leave behind. Shakily pawing with sweat slicked hands at some brat’s snoozing body before they’d eventually be chased off by the mere sight of his approaching figure inevitably barging in, hastily mutter on about their prestigious status and so on— fuck, never really truly listened to the shoddy bastards. How Bailey was no man to rudely kick ‘em out of the own crappy establishment he was sloppily running with a twinge of cruelty ever present in his cold gaze.

Yeah, he’s no damn better than those perverted fuckers right about now— possibly worse, but shit, no way in fucking hell will he potentially admit to that despite the cooling air annoyingly caressing his bare skin, sticky sweat clinging onto his flushed flesh nor the disheveled mess of his habitually, slicked back hair partially obscuring his hazy vision of this.. well, fuck— say it or not, admittedly, fucking hot sight shamelessly greeting him in return. Loosened, pristine white dress shirt untucked in face of this, to give forth to a discreet glimpse of one of the numerous tattoos snaked along the surface of his toned figure.

Slightest pout of your rosy, puckered lips he’d unconsciously find himself eyeing for far too long when thoroughly denied for the day by your daily, insistent questioning. Pop your cherry, you had confidently said with a noticeably excited shake of your fists. Might as well endlessly yap his ear off with that unrealistic request of yours— a pitiful plea that somehow, without fully realizing as to how and why — is currently happening within the otherwise narrow confines of his private office. Solely dedicated to calmly concentrate on each and every one of his gruelling tasks. Namely, neatly sorting out the thin sheets of paper openly displaying pertinent information to the numerous orphans residing here, registering the missing few that’d either go in running like some mindless moron or be plainly sold off to a godforsaken hell he held no genuine interest in— Fuck, fuck. You get the gist by now, there.

A well-deserved punishment is what this all is, simply was for that matter, and hah— you seem to be willingly taking it, although, can’t truly say he’s all that suprised. Brat. It’s what you are. Stupidly nosy brat who couldn’t hope to obediently keep his supple hands to himself for the shitty life of him. One that’d so ironically, perfectly fit all too well underneath the weight of his calloused palms restricting your bashful squirming— now contentedly facing the eventual consequences of your impulsive actions with a gleeful smile tracing your curved lips. Rhythmic squeaking of the wooden, chipped desk the man had sworn to fucking god, promised to dearly replace whenever was soonest possible and, well, he’s received his all-time excuse to be snidely given to those thugs.

A cum coated piece of furniture is just about a good reason to be neatly reinstalled with something sharper, newer— something along the lines of that, the bigger the better, probably.

Speaking of big.. Shit, he’s undeniably fucked.

“Don’t you fucking look at me like that, you ungrateful little bastard. I’m putting a roof over your head and a place to stay so— fuck, the least you can do is fucking pay me back on time, but can’t even do that, can you?” Habitually stern is what he’s evidently known best for amongst the nosy orphans, yet that usual bite in his gruff voice is almost.. pitifully lacking in face of whatever the fuck this is— yeah, actually he’s got a clue what it is. Inwardly cursing at how his hips automatically snap back in one sharp motion to then, merely slap forward— flush against your reddened ass. Riddled, fresh marks traced along the entirety of your curved back nor your spread asscheeks for that matter, shouldn’t be looking so infuriatingly pretty after all that harsh spanking he’s had you withstand. Take it as the start of your relatively tame punishment coming from a stone cold man like him, that’s what.

“Like what? A satisfied client? Hah— this is the best day of my life, y’know. Feels so fuckin’ good, Bailey— please don’t stop..” Of-fucking-‘course you’ve already had whatever comment prepared to hurriedly retort back within your noisy mouth, despite being so crudely bent over a flat surface like this. Particularly whiny moan drawn out at the feel of his thick cock satisfyingly stretching you full, sinfully defiling you from virginity itself. Pervertedly spread open with your dizzyingly warm, honeyed— fuck, did he really just think of your hole like that?? Must be losing his goddamn mind. Correct, your fucking hole is the one irreversibly altering his unwavering principles. So fuck you, really.

Sloppy, squelchy noises, all too annoyingly addictive to hear, of your tight, puckered heat fervently sucking his fat cock in, coating it all sticky and wet with your slippery, pink insides. Instinctively hissing at the knee-buckling sight of his veiny length repeatedly remerging and disappearing deep inside because shit— can’t get enough of it. So much so his rough thumbs are subconsciously spreading that tender flesh wide open for his unrelenting, stern gaze to gawk at. Not to mention, those frilly lines adorning that stupidly short skirt, bouncing in tandem with each ruthless thrusts slapped to your backside. Admittedly adorable, cute cock clumsily bobbing from the ruthlessly loud smacks of the caretaker’s fat balls sloppily slapping upon the flush of your ass, teasing— no, irrefutably taunting him by the subtle glimpse of your dribbling, wet dick peeking from beneath that skirt.

Like to play dress up, don’t you? Sneakily slip in those overly feminine, lacy garments the elder man would’ve notably poked fun at the sissies that unabashedly wore such clothings back in his day— ironically enough, now he’s finding himself, balls deep into said ‘sissy’. Meanly tugging at the silken material snugly encircling your flailing legs, neatly tied bows bound to predictably come undone given the unrelenting bounces of your shared figures. Unable to keep still when you’re being fucked or something?

Little, incompetent brat. Constantly managing to crawl underneath his skin, reach the deepest parts within him the caretaker has progressively learned to conceal beneath this ruthlessly heartless facade. Not that Bailey’s the nicest man to begin with, but hell— favouring a good for nothing, admittedly appealing to the eyes— meddling boy like you wasn’t on his fucking wish list either.

Should be crudely wiping off that joyous grin etched upon your features if you actually know what’s good for you. Though, doubt you will.

Fine. He’s not necessarily against doing the honours for you. Frustratingly fuck out the undeniable audacity ever so present in your every movements when carelessly distracting him during work hours— time meant to be initially spent for focusing and godfuckingdammit, merely thinking back on it has him obscenely gritting his teeth, further tightening his unrelenting grip planted along your — sure to be bruised later, which you’re naturally paying the price of it — hips. Heaving groans mixed along with some curses which are presumably directed at you, if not at himself, that he’s uncertain of, really. All he’s stupidly conscious of is the undeniable fact that you might’ve coincidentally, if not intentionally, gotten him dizzyingly drunk off your previously undefiled hole.

Fuck, must be that then. Overly aware of what you’re currently doing to him, aren’t you?

‘S that it? Your admittedly, badly thought out plan simmering deep within your mind, happily tugging at his heartstrings in hopes of getting your mean caretaker to fuck your virgin holes full of cum? Well, all to say— you’ve graciously received what your bratty, stupidly pretty ass has fervently been desiring for all along, huh? Ain’t that right? So in return, it’s only fair that he greedily takes whatever he so pleases, whenever or wherever— that is of no importance then, whether it be comfortably settled atop his lap during office hours or slung along your knees to dutifully service him. “God, don’t you dare fucking move— just— just fucking stay like. Yeah, just like— hah, that.” Got no qualms whatever position that might be in, too caught up in the tender feel of your soft flesh underneath his punishing grasp to sluggishly catch on what’s spilling forth from his swollen red, oozing tip because.. shit, got him cumming— not just plain ol’ cumming, but mortifyingly enough, squirting prematurely too. Effectively painting your stretched walls in a sticky, white mess of his seed, inwardly cursing at himself for potentially letting things stretch on further than they were initially meant to.

Yet as ironic as it may be, his unwavering pride naturally beckons him in turn or is it the petulant whine longingly drawled out from between your rosy lips at the sole thoughts of your time together being cut short? Right— ‘course, what else would it be that’d have you miserably whimper so? Didn’t cum yet, did you? Obediently took his fat load sickeningly dripping free from your sore, used up hole without any sort of complaint, gaze momentarily flicking downwards to the pearly droplets of his cum progressively trickling down the length of your suspended legs laid along the precarious edge of his oaky desk.

Similar to how an opportunist excitedly pounces on every chance set before him— hah, he’s never been much like Eden to cowardly hide amongst the oaky, wooden trees to begin with. Huddle within the shadowy forest in a futile hope that mere distance might erase the muddled past; the foggy, far-away town altogether from their collectively minds.

Rather take part in the animalistic feast even if it would’ve eventually spelled utter ruin for himself, inevitable defeat one cannot simply crawl out of sheer will. And maybe, that said ruin, is delicately staring at him right in the face with a fucked out look stretch upon your features, pupils blown wide with a hint of saliva gracing the corner of your pouty lips that he— fuck, can’t help it, really— have his calloused thumb stroke at, soon swiftly followed by the immediate puckering of your overly attentive mouth suckling along the digit. Incidentally coating it in a slippery wet layer of your spit that you, of course, joyfully take advantage of by stifling a wanton moan right ‘round it.

Shit, going to be the goddamn death of him.

That eventually faith patiently awaiting for him, doesn’t sound so bad when your cum stained, little needy self is notably factored in that messy equation after all.