Dixie

18y - Pan - She/her/hers - Only got tumb to read about my fave characters. I'm also free to talk to most of the time.

[oilymodo]

MLM smut fic with Modo!!

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Modo Olachenko x Maned wolf/Male reader

Green = Modo Olachenko

Orange = Reader

Purple = both

I’m still very new to writing, so please be patient with me! I'll try my best not to mischaracterize Modo too much. If you don't like MLM, please keep scrolling. Btw, 'solnishko' means 'little sun'! I also did my research on his animal anatomy. It's a long fic, so good luck reading! I'm using Grammarly to fix my errors, too—yay! ദ്ദി -᷅ ·̫ -᷄ )✧︎

You and Modo have been dating for a couple of years now, so you're used to all of his chaos. You both met in a tattoo shop where you had been working as an artist for about a year. Modo used to frequently visit a different shop, but he decided to switch things up and book an appointment with you. Ever since that first session, he started booking with you once or twice a week. You are the type of artist who satisfies customers by providing snacks and drinks, which Modo absolutely loves. He simply loves being spoiled.

You and Modo ended up getting so close that you both started hanging out outside of your respective appointments. You didn't really know Modo was famous since you were never a social media person; you really only used your phone for calls and to look at art inspiration. You knew about Roarball, but not the players. Your passion was art, so during the games, you would just stay in the shop creating art or tattooing a customer. You and Modo both loved each other dearly, so when he blurted out an ask for you to be his boyfriend, you happily accepted. Ever since then, you've both been dating happily.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑☆

Turning back to the present... Modo had texted you before your shift started, asking if you wanted to swing by his place afterward. Of course, you happily accepted. When he messaged you, his rut was starting, but it was so light he hadn't even noticed it yet.

Once you finally closed up the shop for the night, you grabbed some snacks and headed over. You fumbled with the keys for a moment before getting the door open, only to be hit immediately by a strong, sweet scent. The house was completely dark, save for a faint, rhythmic rumbling.

“Modo?” you called out. “Are you okay?”

After locking the door and flicking on the lights, you set your things down and headed toward Modos bedroom. The scent grew stronger with every step, making your own body feel feverish. You stepped into the room and flipped the switch, revealing an empty round bed. Blankets, pillows, and clothes had been dragged to the edges, piled high into a makeshift nest.

You didn’t see Modo anywhere. You looked around the room, feeling eyes on you but not knowing from where. When you finally glanced up, you saw Modo—and he immediately pounced. You yelped and fell on your rear as Modo tackled you, stuffing his snout into your furry neck. His tongue flicked out to catch your scent, drool dribbling from the side of his mouth.

“Modo missed solnishko,” he rumbled. His hands roamed over you as if he were mapping out your entire body. He let out a low growl, biting your shoulder lightly and giving your tail a playful yank.

You shuddered and let out a soft whine, your knee pressing slightly against Modo’s crotch. “Yeah... I missed you too, dummy,” you said softly, making him shiver.

“Modo wants you in bed with him,” he growled against your shoulder, his thick tail slowly coiling around your ankle. He pulled back and looked into your eyes, giving you those 'puppy eyes.' God, those eyes—they always worked on you.

You sighed softly. “Okay, okay, fine, you big dummy.” Your tail curled up, wrapping firmly around his wrist.

Before you could speak again, Modo picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You were startled by the sudden movement but quickly calmed down. Modo turned off the lights, but the LEDs under and around the bed were set to green so you could both still see.

Modo walked over to the bed and tossed you onto it. He crawled over you, settling between your legs, before leaning in to kiss you aggressively. He growled into your mouth as he pulled you closer, his tongue forcing its way past your lips. You groaned against him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

Modo swallowed every sound you made. His tail thumped against the bed in sync with yours. When he finally pulled back, a string of saliva connected your tongues; that single make-out session left you both breathless. You licked the moisture from your lips, and Modo did the same. He then hooked a claw under the waistband of your shorts and boxers, before completely tearing away your clothes.

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Modo removed his clothes, and once he was fully revealed, his finger came down to tease your prepuce until your length slowly appeared. Soft whimpers fell from your lips as you watched him. Once you were fully exposed, he grabbed your wrist and guided your hand to his cloaca, forcing you to tease it. He let out a low rumble as his dual hemipenes slid out—both textured with bumps and flared with knots at the base that only appeared when he was in rut.

“Modo loves you so much, solnishko,” he murmured, pressing one head against your puckered entrance. He didn’t push in yet, merely teasing the opening. As he began to slowly press forward, your fur puffed up; you let out a soft whine and tossed your head back as he managed to seat the tip. He then reached down to guide his second length to your heat, determined to fit them both. With a low growl and a firm press, he managed to wedge the second tip in as well. You were still sensitive and slightly loose from the day before, and you moaned, biting your lip until it bled. Your hand flew down, desperately gripping his wrist.

“Let Modo take care of you, solnishko,” he growled against your ear, rubbing slow, soothing circles on your wrist to help you ease. When you finally let go of his wrist and relaxed, Modo reached down and hooked his hands beneath your knees. He raised your legs and pressed them to your chest, folding you deeply. Once you were in position, he slowly began pushing the rest of his dual length inside you. His tongue lolled out the side of his mouth as he groaned softly. Your own length rested against your stomach, the leaking fluid making your fur sticky.

You moaned and whined as he stretched you wide, a slight bulge appearing against your abdomen from his depth. When Modo finally seated his full length, he kept the knots internal, saving them for later. He leaned down, resting your legs on his shoulders as he began to move. At first, his rhythm was slow, but he soon began speeding up, letting out rough rumbles and groans as you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck.

When you were finally comfortable with his size, he began pounding into you. His hips snapped against yours as he moved at a punishing pace. He panted near your ear before burying his face in your neck, breathing heavily. “Modo’s good boy,” he said in a teasing voice as you bit into his neck, letting out muffled moans and cries. Modo’s skin was tough, so thankfully you didn't break it. Drool slid down the side of your mouth.

Modo grabbed your hips, pressing them down to keep you still as he pounded into you. His claws poked your skin. He panted heavily, trying his best to go harder as his peak rapidly approached. Modo then angled his hips slightly to hit that sweet bundle of nerves deep inside you. Your toes curled and you let go of his neck, crying out in pleasure. Your tail wagged faster, making a thumping rhythm on the bed.

“Modo, I’m gonna cum!” you cried out.

Modo thrusted one more time before starting to press his knot in. You squirmed and clawed at his back until his knot finally popped inside you. You moaned loudly and tossed your head back, letting out choked gasps. Modo took advantage of that to bite into your neck hard enough to break the skin as he filled you up completely. “Fuck, Modo!” you cried out, placing your hand on the back of his head and holding him there as you came all over yourself. The pleasure became too much, to the point where you passed out.

When you finally woke up, your body ached, yet you were clean. You were in bed, nicely tucked in. Then Modo walked in. “Good morning, Solnishko,” he said as he set a tray of breakfast next to you. “Modo is sorry for being rough with you,” he said as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You chuckled softly. “It's fine, Modo. Thank you for taking care of me,” you said, shooting him a smile.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑☆

You reached the end!! Thank you guys so much for wasting your time reading this and please let me know what you think about it and if I should make more in the future. Love you guys sm! ໒꒰ྀི∗ɞ̴̶̷ ·̮ ɞ̴̶̷∗꒱ྀིა

[gummywummy69]

Septum

Modo x Gender-neutral Reader oneshot

A/N: First ever completed reader x canon! Kinda nervous , lmk if should fix anything or recommed some ideas. (Critiques are welcomed and the amount of piercings videos I had to watch to writing the description is unhealthy.)

God damn it 

How the hell did Modo convince you into getting a septum piercing? You had no idea honestly. Yet at the same time,  you’ve been feening for a septum yourself internally for a long while now. Seeming that every post was trying to encourage every scroll you took.Stupidly you had decided that would be your first very piercing. Without second thought, until the day arrived.

But you felt as if it was already too late as you and Modo were already in the piercing lobby.Just waiting for it to be your turn. Though you’ve trusted your boyfriend on the place where you get the piercing. Since to you he seemed like an expert with having around eleven counting. Probably having more hidden.

While waiting on the leathery couch of the waiting room, Modo just slouches in his seat with an arm over your shoulder.Just wasting the time away on scrolling on his phone. 

Meanwhile you were shaking in your boots. Repeatedly bouncing your leg up and down. 

This catches Modo's attention as he stops his doom scrolling. 

“Modo feels you  vibrating. What is wrong?” 

“Oh! Nothing, nothing.Just a little nervous that’s all.” You winced out rather weakly under your breath. Modo just chuckled, squishing his face closer to you. As he wrapped his tail around your leg in support.

“Do not worry Solnishko, the piercing will be done fast.”

You sigh. “I know, I know. I just worried about the pain.”

“For Modo, my nose felt like fire for like a week. I nearly cried. Almost.” He clarified. Depanning while thinking of the memory.

You winced at the imagery and groaned , covering your face in defeat.

“Not helping at all Modo!”

“Sorry.”

Your ears sway as the receptionist calls your names out. Pointing out to the room you were supposed to head in. In a stiff motion you got up from your spot following Modo behind, arms crossed as you marched straight through the beaded door. 

Greeted by the chair, a silver fox stood. Focusing on preparing the rather sharp tools for you. “Ah , hello tiny dog!” 

“Ay sup Modo long time no see,” The piercer greeted. “What area are here for today? Another eye-brow,lip or something new today?” 

Modo shook his head. “No,No,No my friend.It is for Modo’s partner.” He gushed with excitement as he shoved you up forth. While you gave an awkward wave. The fox just smiled, looking amused at the thought that you were able to pull Modo. Just a lucky person she guessed.

“Hey I’m Kayla, pleasure working with you.Please,have a seat.” The sleek fox offered while patting down on the client chair got you.

“What would you like today?”

“Septum.”

“Oh for real? I got you.” She said with enthusiasm. Drifting her attention to a box of small gloves.

 As you took a seat , Modo heavy self laid lazily on your shoulders

 “Be soft on them. They are like baby.” He suggested. A sparkly claw poked your cheek playfully. You couldn't even bother to rebuttal as anxiety and a tiny bit of excitement took over. Just staring off at the gigantic , silver clamp Kayla held in her paw. 

“Alright, I’ll be quick then. Take a deep breath.” And so you did. Gripping the chair handles while the clamp holds down on the soft part of your nostrils. A meek shriveled echoed, Kayla finally thread the needle through. A harsh but cooling sting rang through your nose.A small circular ring looped through the needle , settling nicely in the newly formed hole you received.

Kayla took a step back, placing the used utensils back on the tray. “There, you're all done.”

You open your eyes wide as the pain dulled. Already? With extreme speed you pulled your phone strolling to the camera. 

“You like it?” Kayla asked.

“I love it! I look scrumptious!~”Purring giddly.You tilted your head in different angles to see your freshly installed piercing from a different perspective.Modo gripped your face once again to get a closer look. Squishing the life out of you as he eyed the silver ringlet. He smiled wide showing out every sharp tooth in his jaw. 

“Modo likes! See? You look beautiful, Solnishko!”

“Aww thank you Modo.” Giving proper thanks you gave the komodo dragon a peek on the snout. “It still kinda hurts though.”

 “Oh ya, that’ll happen for like six to eight weeks till it heals fully. Just make sure you disinfect regularly.” You listen well to Kayla’s instructions, along with how to disinfect as she hands you a bottle of solution.

“And if it continues and becomes sore or red , I would suggest you get it checked out.” Ignoring that worrying prospect you and Modo waved the silver fox goodbye. Well ...in Modo’s special and unique way of saying bye. After paying the front desk you left the shop with a large grin of satisfaction.  You had psyched yourself from fear of the needle that now you kinda feel silly for worrying so much. Modo interlocked his claws with yours. Walking down the block an idea clicked in the Komodo Dragon’s head. 

“Next time Modo will take you to get a dermal! We  match even more.” He jested.

Your eyes just glared at the lizard, looking like he’s said his most weirdest thing to say. “Hell no.”

[salty-tang]

body2body

personal trainer!bucky x client!reader

summary: Bucky's a great personal trainer - he pushes you, corrects your form, and puts you exactly where he wants you!

⤷ warnings/tags: MDNI 18+ SMUT, porn with literally 0 plot, trainer/client power dynamics, brat/sub undertones, oral sex (f & m receiving/giving), swallowing, fingering, clit stimulation, multiple orgasms (f & m), p in v, creampie, cum play (internal & external), praise kink if you squint, public/semi-public setting (after hours gym), bit of an authority kink technically, dumbification if you're looking for it // dubious gym/personal training knowledge

word count: 2.7k (a quickie!)

⤷ author’s note: and this month i'm not late for @star-and-shield-monthly’s challenge!! go me!! the prompt i'm working with is 'equinox', which my brain suddenly went to the chain of gyms instead of the celestial event HAHA title inspired by body to body (BTS)

+ more bucky from me

It starts with the glide of calloused fingers across your calf.

At the flagship Equinox, all marble and chrome and high-gloss perfection, the floor has finally gone quiet, the studio lights lowered to an amber glow that glints off kettlebells and mirrors. The last gym-goer has slipped out fifteen minutes ago, and the club manager only offers Bucky a cursory reminder about the security system, more formality than instruction.

Officially, the gym closes at ten on the dot. But in practice, in a city like New York where time is elastic if you can afford it, where everything runs just a little later for the right people, and for the gym’s top trainer and his longest-standing client, exceptions can certainly be made. 

You hadn’t meant to come this late, you never do.

But your days are a constant negotiation – emails, meetings, decisions that stack and stack until your brain hums like an overworked server. The gym is the only place where that noise cuts cleanly to silence. No thinking, no strategising. Just movement, breath, the burn of muscle, and Bucky’s voice – steady, corrective, unyielding – telling you exactly where to put your body and how to hold it there.

It’s easier, sometimes, to be told.

“Last set,” he murmurs, voice deep enough to vibrate the air-con vents. His metal hand steadies your hips while the fleshy one trails lower, thumb ghosting the waistband of your leggings. “Romanian dead-lifts. Slowly, and a squeeze-hold at the top.”

You brace on the barbell, ass back, hamstrings singing. He crouches behind you, adjusting your stance with practiced precision – knees out, chest proud, hips hinged just right – really an excuse to watch the way your body moves under his hands. By rep eight your glutes burn; by rep ten the heat between your legs burns hotter. Bucky’s exhale fans over the small of your back.

“Perfect,” he says, low with approval. “Feel that engagement?”

“What I feel,” you shoot back, breath catching between words, “is you hovering like you don’t trust me to finish a set.”

There’s an edge to it – half challenge, half the kind of bratty deflection that only shows up when you’re tired enough to stop filtering yourself.

His mouth ticks at the corner.

“Don’t,” he says quietly. “You start rushing when you get mouthy.”

You huff, pushing through the last rep anyway, slower now just to prove a point. At the top you hold – one, two, three – then drop the bar with a satisfying clang that echoes through the empty floor.

Bucky exhales sharply through his nose.

“Easy,” he snaps, not loud, but firm – the voice he uses when clients forget themselves. His hand lands back on your hip, grounding, corrective. “You finish the movement before you let it go. Always.”

There’s a beat – just long enough for the reprimand to settle – before his grip shifts, his palm slides lower, settling heavy over your ass, giving it a sharp, corrective pat.

“Discipline,” he mutters. “That’s the whole point.”

You inhale, sharp, the contact sending a flicker of heat straight through you. When you glance back over your shoulder, your expression has already tipped – less chastened, more knowing.

“Like what you’re feeling?” you ask, voice edged with something lighter, dangerous.

His jaw tightens, just slightly. For a second, he doesn’t answer – like he’s deciding which version of himself gets to speak.

Then, rougher than before, “Yeah,” he says. “Strong. Built exactly like how it should be.”

His thumb drags once, slow, deliberate, no longer pretending it’s part of the correction.

“I guess I have you to thank for them, Coach,” you say, glancing back over your shoulder.

That does it.

Something in his expression tightens; professional irritation blurring into something darker, hungrier.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “You do.”

He steps back, rolling his shoulders like he’s resetting himself. “Down on the mat. We’re not done.”

That’s how you find yourself on your back in the functional room, sneakers braced on the turf sled track, sweat still drying in the hollow above your collarbones. Bucky kneels at your side, one knee down on a rolled yoga mat, the other planted for leverage. One hand supports your heel; the other one slides slowly up the back of your leg, warm from body heat, until the heel of his palm meets the back of your thigh.

“Breathe,” he reminds, voice a low rasp that sinks under your skin. “Exhale on the stretch.”

You do – slow release of breath out the nose – while he pushes your leg toward your chest. Glute stretch, hamstring extension, textbook mobility. Except nothing about the look in his eyes feels clinical. His pupils are huge, a storm-blue rim around black. Sweat darkens the front of his training tee; dog tags press flat against his sternum. When the fabric brushes your knee, you imagine the sweat tastes like salt and cedar, the same scent that clings to your towel after every 6 am HIIT class.

The stretch deepens. Luon leggings pull taut over your pert ass; the crotch seam bites into heat you can’t hide. Bucky’s gaze flicks there – quick, guilty – and returns to your face.

“Too much?” he asks, throat thick.

“Not enough,” you try, but your voice gives out, the words dissolving into a low, needy sound that makes his hands tighten on you.

He drops your leg gently, then moves fast and decisive. One strong arm hooks under your knees, the other scoops behind your shoulders, and suddenly you’re airborne. You squeal, slap at his chest, but he’s already settling you onto the padded weight bench that faces the mirrored wall. Your reflection – flushed, wide-eyed – stares back at you.

Bucky stands over you, left hand on the bar rack, right fingers dragging through his crop of dark hair.

“I’ve been trying to be professional,” he says, exhale shaky enough to tremble the words. “But I keep thinking about putting my hands on you.”

You push up on your elbows, letting your knees fall open just enough to give him a view. “Then stop trying,” you murmur, mouth curving. “I’m your client,” your head tilts slowly, deliberately. “You work to my satisfaction.”

His breath leaves on a curse. In two strides he’s between your thighs, calloused palm braced on the bench beside your head, hand sliding up your jaw, thumb pressing into the hinge until your lips part on instinct. He pauses there, hesitating for just a second, long enough that you can feel his breath.

Your eyes flick to his, and then back to his mouth. And instead of answering with your words, your lips close around his thumb, tongue dragging over the rough pads, slowly enough that his catches.

That’s all it takes.

He kisses you like he’s finally allowed to – mouth firm, a little rough, pulling a breath out of you before you even realise you’ve given it. His body covers you, heat and weight and the faint rasp of nylon joggers against luon leggings. Between your legs the long, thick line of his cock hardens, grind by grind, until you rock up to chase it.

“Greedy,” he growls, breaking the kiss to nip your lower lip. “I like it.”

He drags you down the bench until your ass hangs off the edge. Hands grip the waistband of your leggings and peel them over your hips, yanking sneakers, socks, Lycra away in three efficient tugs. You’re naked from the waist down, slick already stringing between your thighs. Bucky’s gaze fixes on the wet. His tongue sneaks out, quick, hungry.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked.”

“Your fault for making me do sled pushes,” you manage, a little breathless.

He huffs, almost laughing, then sinks to his knees. “Not talking about the sweat, sweetheart.”

 The rubberized floor muffles the thud; the mirror shows his broad back, shoulders bunching under the tight black tee as he grips your thighs and spreads you.

First lick – broad, from the dip of your entrance to the swollen peak of your clit. Your spine arches. Second lick – pointed, tip circling slow until your fingers claw at the vinyl. Bucky groans like the taste hits a nerve.

“Sweet,” he mutters into slick flesh. “All day I think about this, and my mouth waters through half my sessions.”

You would tease, but he seals his lips around your clit and sucks just hard enough to pull a broken moan from the base of your lungs. His tongue flicks, relentless, pattern precise as an EMOM timing cue. His hand slides under your ass, middle finger prodding your rim, teasing but not entering; the human hand curls over your thigh, thumb stroking the tendon where it meets your pelvis.

Wet squelch, his breathing, your stuttered whimpers - echoes bounce off glass and turf. The neon exit sign glows red in the mirror behind his head; in its reflection you see drool sheen on his chin, eyes half-closed in concentration.

“Bucky, oh – fuck –”

“That’s it,” he praises, voice gravel, and doubles down. He slips two fingers inside, curling up. The stretch plus suction detonates bright heat and your first orgasm crashes hard. You cry out, thighs trembling against his ears, body flushing from collarbones to hairline. He licks through the pulses, greedy gulps, not stopping until you tug at his hair, squeaking from oversensitivity.

He rises, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then leans in to kiss you. You taste yourself, tangy-sweet, mixed with salt of his sweat. He pulls back only far enough to strip his tee. Dog tags swing free, clinking as they settle against his chest. Your nails scrape over his shoulder, not hard – but enough to pull a sharp hiss from him.

“I want you inside me,” you say, voice still wrecked.

“You’ll get it,” he promises. “But first…”

He scoops his hands under your sports bra, pushes the damp racerback up and over your head. Your breasts spill out, nipples dark, tight. He cups them, thumbs brushing and brushing until your hips arch into nothing. Then he drags your slick down the curve, using natures lube to shine the skin.

“You have no idea what these do to me,” he mutters. “Every time you pant – bounce, bounce – my brain just shorts out.”

He strokes his cock through joggers, showing the effect. The outline is outrageous, thick and long down his thigh. You bite your lip.

“If you like them so much,” you say, breathless, “You can fuck them, if you’d like.”

His groan is half-choke, half-prayer. Joggers hit the floor, boxer-briefs with them. His cock springs free, flushed dark rose at the tip, a bead of pre-come glittering.

“Nah,” he mutters, shaking his head once, like he’s arguing with himself. “Not like that.”

Your brows knit. “What –”

He grips your jaw and tilts your face up, thumb pressing into your bottom lip until it parts.

“I do love your tits,” he says, voice going low and deliberate. “But I think you can do better than that, sweetheart.”

Heat spikes straight to your core.

“Use your mouth. Show me how grateful you are for the session.”

The words land somewhere between a command and a dare.

You slide off the bench before he can move you, knees hitting the rubber floor with a soft thud. His cock hangs heavy in front of you, flushed, leaking. Up close, he’s bigger than he looks in the mirror – thick, weighty, already twitching when your fingers wrap around him.

“Hands behind,” he murmurs.

You lace your fingers at the small of your back – mind obediently blank again. Bucky’s cock is still hard, a slick sheen of lube and arousal catching the down-lights. He strokes once, twice, thumb sweeping the sensitive underside, and you track the motion like it’s the only moving object in the room.

“Open that pretty mouth.”

You do, lips parted, tongue out. He groans – some feral, grateful sound – then guides the broad head past your lips. Heat floods your cheeks; salt coats your tongue. You hum, pleased, and the vibration makes his hips stutter.

“Easy,” he warns, though the tremor in his voice betrays how close easy is to impossible. One hand fists in your hair – not forcing, but guiding, like everything else he does. His thumb strokes as he feeds you inch by slow inch. The tip nudges the back of your throat; your eyes water, but you relax, letting him set the depth.

“Relax your throat,” he murmurs, voice rough but still coaching, still him. “There you go – good girl.”

He begins to move – shallow thrusts, then deeper, rhythm synchronizing with the squeeze of his fingers. Spit slicks your chin, strings to the floor; the mirrored wall shows mascara smudging, mouth stuffed full. You’ve never felt emptier of thought, never felt better.

The praise goes straight to your head.

You hollow your cheeks, suck as you pull back, then take him deep again, finding a rhythm – slow, deliberate, filthy in a way that makes his control fray at the edges.

“All that attitude earlier,” he breathes. “And look at you now.”

You hum around him in response, and that is what unspools him. Hips jerk; his grip tightens. A low, ragged curse tears free as hot pulses spill across your tongue – thick, salty, endless. You take it, swallow instinctively, the taste thick and salt-slick on your tongue, and when you finally pull off him there’s still a dazed look on your face that he stares at like it’s the most obscene thing he’s ever seen.

When he eases out, a translucent thread lingers from lip to tip. You lick it away, then open your mouth, proving there’s nothing left to waste. He exhales a broken laugh, pride and disbelief tangled together.

“Fuck,” he says again, softer this time. “You actually –”

You lick your lips, meeting his gaze. “Extra protein, right?”

He stares at you for a second too long, something dark settling back into place behind his eyes as the haze clears. His chest is still rising a little too fast, but the slackness is gone now, replaced by something sharper, more focused. His gaze drops to your mouth, lingers, then lifts again, and whatever he finds there seems to decide it for him.

You tilt your chin up just slightly, meeting his gaze head-on. “Need you inside me,” you say. “Go on – finish the job.”

He blinks, then grins – wolfish, exhausted, still game. “Yes, ma’am.”

He grabs a towel, swipes quick across his cock, then hooks your knees over his forearms, lining up. His tip nudges slick entrance, slides in easy, still wet. The stretch is delicious. He sinks to the hilt, groaning when your walls flutter.

You’re positioned bent at edge, your ass half-suspended, angle perfect to bully your most sensitive spot. He sets a slow, grinding pace, thrusting deep and deliberate.

“Feel that?” he murmurs, bending to suck one drool-slicked nipple into his mouth. You keen, nails raking his back. Drool smears between chests each time he presses deep; the obscene squelch mingles with new slick.

His pace mounts – pistoning, pounding. A large hand grips the bar rack above your head for leverage; the other thumbs your clit in tight circles.

Pressure cranks high – too high – and your orgasm slams through again, violent, walls squeezing, vision spotting. You scream his name as your body convulsing. He snarls, thrusts losing rhythm, then empties inside, heat flooding, cock pulsing against hypersensitive flesh.

Aftershocks fade. He slips out, and white spend leaks immediately, trailing down to the crease of your ass. He watches, transfixed, then scoops two fingers through the spill and presses them back in, gentle.

“Can’t waste that,” he mumbles, lazy grin.

You slap his bicep. “You’re terrible.”

“Only the best for you.” He laughs, breathless, and leans down to kiss you soft – contrast to everything messy between. “Shower?”

“Only if you’re coming with me,” you say as he helps you upright; legs wobble. Together you head for the locker rooms, leaving a constellation of footprints, cum specks, and one smudgy handprint on the mirror.

The cleaning staff may wonder, but Equinox charges enough to clean up sins.

yap! who can tell which part of my cycle im on HAHAHA i'd like to take this opportunity to apologise to my actual trainer who's an angel... my girl, im so sorry i'm using all the good knowledge you've imparted to me to write filth... anyway! if you enjoyed let me know (and if you didn't, shhhh i don't wanna know)

DIVIDER BY @pixopix

+ more bucky from me

[ihaznoclue]

I’m so happy your inbox is back open, I love your work 🥹 Could you write a NSFW oneshot about Modo with a female barn owl reader? Maybe something like your hide and seek one? Or if you don’t want to do that, maybe Modo x a barn owl reader who’s being introduced to the rest of the team?

Introducing Modo Olachenko x Female Barn Owl Reader a/n; So sorry for taking a while to get to your request but I decided to do the second option if you don't mind :))

Modo decided it was finally time to introduce you to his team. The thorns. The most famous Roarball team in Vineland. You get brought into the greenhouse during training hours, hearing balls flying from the sidelines, shouting and running. You hear everything and see everything. You were quite the curious type. Your sharp eyes take in the movement of every single player. Modo's team stopped everything and spotted you with him, immediately settled in with questions while you watched them. Modo finally introduces you to everyone. Jett seemed to like you, Olivia quickly fawning over your beauty and how sharp looking you look and that in fact you were another bird species like her. Archie gave you a nod and Lenny dancing along with his music but gave you a quick stare to acknowledge you were there in front of him. Then there was will, he was small but he had a gentle presence. He quickly introduced himself and smiled. You smiled, softly speaking that you were grateful to meet them. Modo is now happy that he introduced his girlfriend to his team. His family is now your family.

[elly0nuwu]

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ A night outᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

Modo Olachenko x GN!Reader Warnings: Mild alcohol consumption, tipsy behavior, and cringe. I’m so sorry if your name is Ivan! Please feel free to swap it for any other name in your head uwu.

It was the weekend, and you and Modo had decided to go out partying, just to blow off some steam. You picked a slightly niche club, the kind with a chill vibe and not too many people, but with good music to dance to. xactly what you needed. No cameras, no pressure, no work. Just you and Modo being a pair of happy weirdos. You were both a little tipsy, dancing in the middle of the floor. Well more like making absolute fools of yourselves. Which, honestly, was the whole point.

At some point, Modo slipped away to the bar to grab more drinks, leaving you swaying to your own rhythm, completely unbothered.

That’s when a vulture showed up.

“Hey, I love your vibe,” he said, trying to sound smooth.

You blinked at him, then smiled, a little giggly from the alcohol. “Hey, thanks. I like my vibe too.”

“Do you know how to dance?” he asked, leaning in like he was about to impress you.

“Not at all,” you laughed. “I just came here to embarrass myself.” To prove your point, you did the most ridiculous, clumsy move you could think of. “What about you?”

He let out a cocky chuckle. “Oh, I do. C’mon, let me show you.”

Before you could even respond, he stepped into your space and started dancing with you, well… at you.

It was awkward. Painfully awkward. The kind of secondhand embarrassment that makes you laughing through the cringe. You kept your distance the whole time.

Then, clearly feeling confident, he leaned in again.

“So… are you here alone? I just thought you were really cute and”

He didn’t get to finish.

A massive shadow suddenly swallowed him whole.

“Y/N!! Who is your friend?”

Modo’s voice came from right behind him.

He had seen everything from the bar. He wasn’t mad at you, he trusted you completely, blindly, and he knew you were just having fun, that you would never do anything to break that trust. But that didn’t mean he was going to let this guy walk away without having a little “fun” of his own.

You lit up instantly. “Modo! Love!” you said, relief mixing with laughter. “This is… Oh! sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“I… Uh…”

The vulture froze.

Because yeah, maybe he expected you not to be alone. But he definitely didn’t expect your partner to be Modo Olachenko, one of the best roarball players, looming over him.

Modo, eerily calm, handed you the drinks he’d been carrying.

“Here, love. Hold this. Modo not want them to spill,” he said with a wink, stepping neatly between you and the vulture.

Then he turned back to him, baring his sharp teeth in a grin that was way too sharp to be friendly, waiting for his name.

“Come on, no need to be shy! They not bite…” he tilted his head slightly, eyes glinting, “…but Modo do.”

“I… my name is Ivan,” the vulture managed, already sweating.

Modo chuckled low in his chest and stepped closer, mirroring exactly how Ivan had invaded your space earlier.

“Modo watch from far. You dance good… but you need move more. I teach you Modo’s special dance.”

And before Ivan could even process what was happening

Modo grabbed him.

Like. Fully picked him up.

And then it began.

A chaotic, unhinged “dance” that looked less like dancing and more like being trapped inside a blender. Modo spun him, shook him side to side, tossed him around like he weighed nothing. Ivan didn’t stand a chance.

You were losing it.

Absolutely losing it.

Bent over, clutching the drinks, laughing so hard you could barely breathe.

The second Ivan’s feet touched the ground again, he bolted, straight toward the bathrooms, one hand over his beak, the other clutching his stomach, tripping over at least three people on the way.

Modo watched him go, grinning ear to ear.

“Oops!” he said, fake concern dripping from every word. “Look like friend Ivan didn’t handle Modo’s rhythm. And we only just started blender dance!”

That was it. You broke completely, doubling over in laughter, barely managing not to spill the drinks.

“Modo” you gasped between laughs, wiping tears from your eyes. “Poor guy, he just wanted to teach me how to dance.”

Modo laughed with you, but after a moment, his expression softened. He leaned down slightly, voice gentler now.

“But,  you okay? He not bothered you too much?”

You smiled, still catching your breath. “I’m more than okay. Thanks for saving me from the most awkward moment of my life.”

He puffed up proudly at that, clearly pleased.

“My pleasure. Modo will always take care of you.”

He took his drink from your hands, then pulled you close by the waist.

“Now…” he said, grin returning, “you and Modo still have dance pending.”

He leaned in just a little closer.

“And Modo promise, no blender for you.”

A/N: So sorry for the delay, everyone! (っ╥﹏╥ς) Life got a little busy. But I’m back with a new one-shot, I hope you guys enjoy it uwu. Love ya <3.

[ihaznoclue]

this is pretty nsfw but what do you think modos and readers first time would be? could be a oneshot, headshots or whatever you’re up to making :3!!

Our first time Modo Olachenko x Reader a/n: This is such a good request WHATTT, I made reader Gender neutral if you don't mind A/n: (AGAIn) THIS TOO FOREVER

It all started with a movie night together in your apartment. Modo just came back from a good time of training and wanted to hang out and stay over for the night.

You didn't mind, he was your boyfriend for a month now. It was a chance to spend more time with him since he was getting busier and busier with training and Roarball.

So why not?

The night was peaceful and quiet, both of you snuggling against each other while the movie played in the background. Voices talking as you started to zone out.

It's been a while since you and Modo started dating.. it's already been a month and usually your friends have already been doing intimate stuff with their boyfriends.

You felt a little jealous, though you didn't want to pressure Modo into doing something he doesn't want to do.. but you wanted to at least try and see if he would.

You nuzzled more into him, trying to give several hints to him. Making sounds and little noises to gain his attention.

You pursed your lips tight together, feeling slightly embarrassed now that he hasn't noticed.

So you decided to give out for a bit, moving around until you got comfy again to only accidentally fall onto him. Your face near his crotch as you squealed in silence.

You slowly and shyly looked up at Modo to already see him staring down at you, his eyes not surprised nor angry but his eyes had a spark of desire.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to" You apologised, trying to get up to only be pulled down by his tail laying on top of you as he grinned.

His tail heavy and warm, pinning you down from going anywhere.

"You've been fidgeting, what are you trying to tell Modo?" He questions, his tilting to the side, he wants to hear it from you.

"Nothing! It's just.. embarrassing to say." You said in a soft tone, trying to get up but his tail wont budge at all. So you had no where to go and save yourself.

The movie is long forgotten in the background, muffled voices and music playing.

"I won't move my tail unless you say it." He orders, his tongue giving a little hiss.

"I just want to see if you wanna go more forward with our relationship. I've been hearing from my friends about it so I got a little jealous but I don't wanna pressure you into doing something you don't want to do.." You mumbled, then hid your face against his thigh.

You heard him give out a loud laugh. His tail moving away and he lifted you up effortlessly without any hesitation onto his lap.

"Modo wants to continue our relationship forward." He smiles, his tongue poking out the side of this mouth in delight.

"You sure? Do you know how to?" You asked.

"Hm?"

"I mean we're both virgins, this is going to be our first time together." You shrugged, noting the fact.

"Then we will learn together." He happily exclaims. Your heart has started beating more and more faster now that Modo gave consent. You both were doing it together.

Though you were nervous too. You didn't really know how to do anything. Kissing was the only thing you knew how to do. Other stuff was out of your knowledge since you didn't really have stable relationships with others before you starting dating Modo.

You just hoped this was going to last.

Modo didn't waste any time and leaned to give you a kiss which turned into a full on make out session on his lap.

...

Now you were flat on your back, Modo hovering over you carefully to not crush you by accident. Behind him you could see his tail swaying side to side.

He was excited just as you are.

Clothes both off and set on the ground with a pile. You felt bare in front of him, shying away as you covered yourself in nervousness. What if he doesn't like how you look?

"Don't cover yourself, Modo likes how you look. My Solnishko.." He purrs, leaning down to give your nose a kiss. It was a way of calming you down when you get a bit nervous and fidgety.

"May Modo have permission to touch you, Solnishko?" He asks for your consent before continuing. That's why you love him so much. Replying to him with a small and slow nod.

His body rumbled, slight growls and purrs mixed in his throat. He was happy. He wants to take his sweet time with, mark and map every sensitive spot and every little thing placed on your body.

He wants to savour you for your first time.

"Keep your eyes on me." He licks your face then trails down slowly, teasing you as he goes lower and lower down until he is met with your entrance.

You clamped your legs together in shyness until Modo had to pry them open and pin them down, you whined in response.

"Keep your legs open for me, Solnishko." He growls lowly, his tongue hissing out, flicking against your clit. You gave out a low shuttered groan, leaning your head back until you heard Modo growl and stop.

"Modo.. Why'd you stop?" You whined. Clenching onto the fabric of the couch beneath you.

"Eyes on Modo."

You gulped, you totally forgot Modo loves eye contact. So you quickly lifted your head up and locked eyes with him as he hummed. Satisfied as he went to continue.

He took a little bite in between on your thighs, then giving them a little lick to make them feel better.

You were close. Your hand reached down to grab onto one of his purple spikes on his head for balance as you became more squirmy, trying to warn Modo.

But he buried himself more, humming and growling if you were to push him back. He likes where he was.

"Fuck.." You stuttered out a moan, your body shaking from over stimulation. Trying to pray Modo off.

"Modooo.." You whimpered. "Too much..." You groaned, your head leaning back down the soft pillow as your body continued to shake. Finally Modo stopped and lifted his head up to see how tired you were.

He let out a pleased purr, crawling up and placing his head on you chest. The vibration waving through both of your bodies.

You then realized Modo gets super cuddly and clingy after.

[beartrapped17]

Oh god I actually can't stop thinking about breeding. I need someone to fuck me raw and fill me up. I'm becoming so useless and desperate and needy. I don't know what's wrong with me. All I can do is touch myself and fantasize and beg.

[lilskippity]

man's best friend. dog owner!simon + dog owner!reader thinking about the time I was out for drinks and there was a dude with the biggest fucking dog I’ve ever seen just chilling at the bar. surrounded by ladies.

simon taking riley out for an afternoon walk, but ending up at the pub cuz a man needs pint every now and then.

he's finishing his beer while watching the match on the pub telly when he feels a tug on the leash. he looks down, and finds you petting and cooing at riley. the bugger is all in for the attention, ears perked and tail wagging against his boots.

pretty little thing, you.

he doesn't move, content with watching you like this. maybe a minute later is when you finally notice him staring.

"oh! sorry," your voice is as sweet as you look; too tempting for a man like him. "your dog is so cute! what's its name?"

"riley." he grunts out. wouldn't mind indulging you, just for a while.

"cute name, it suits him," you say. riley nudges your hand with a wet nose begging for scratches. it makes you laugh. the sound is enough to make simon shift in his seat.

would suit you too, he thinks.

"got one of your own?" he asks instead.

you smile. "yes! i have a doberman. she's in her terrible twos right now, though. not as well behaved as riley."

"lots of energy, those ones," he grumbles. "better get a playmate before she rips your couch up."

simon ends up leaving the bar with a new number on his phone and a marked date on his calendar.

wasn't looking; wasn't hunting for anything, but riley sniffed you out for him. fell right into his lap anyway. he spoils the pup with some treats once they get home.

good hunting, riley.

[starboysdream]

Dudes that are obsessed with your smell. When they keep hugging you and burying their nose in your neck. Smelling your hair after a shower, staying in bed a little longer because the pillows and blankets still smell of you. Pulling you closer and being annoying because he just wants to be close to you. Can’t even get a proper kiss before he’s diving into your neck and nosing at your jaw. He loves fucking you because of how sweaty you get and how he can press himself as close to you as possible. Even better when he pulls out and cums on your stomach, so he can lick it all up and smell your scents mixed together..

[bludinkdragonz]

Modo is ✨ ICON✨

[daddybird7]

[oilymodo]

I wanna write a Modo smut fic but my punctuation and grammar are all over the place💔

[dirtninsect]

Komodo dragons' diet includes goats, horses, and wild boars.

Modo the drooling killing machine

[dreamweave01]

Wouldn’t it be funny if Will had a channel or something where he just posts random private videos of life with the Thorns team?

And no, I’m definitely not projecting on my new favorite character because I’ve been sick the past few days—

[teem-boo]

love this phreak <3