look, i know at this point we all agree that izuku wants you to have a bush. like that is a bush man. call him indiana jones the way he wants to explore your jungle. but...
the first time izuku finally gets to subtly push his right hand down your pants and cup your cunt over your underwear, he is immediately aware that you remove your body hair. and god, while it's an incredible moment, he finally finally gets to touch you, there is an itty bitty tinge of disappointment that arises in him.
"where's your bush?" his voice brushes against your ear in an almost whine. the situation had upset him so much he had to move away from leaving your neck purple.
"... i get waxed," you mumble. "had my appointment yesterday."
and that makes izuku still, his hand no longer rubbing up and down over your panties steady, but rather holding and feeling your heat throb against him. you wax. someone else gets to see your bush, something he knows he loves and wants and craves, and then gets to take it away from him.
but oh... wouldn't it be delightful? if izuku could place the strips on you himself? he would do this chore for you. he would get to decide when to start the process of growing you out over and over again.
izuku moves his hand under your panties, feeling the freshly smooth skin under his palm. there's something so satisfying about just how close and smooth it is, almost as satisfying as the coarse feeling of curls. two extremes and izuku could be in control of both of them...
Genre : strangers to lovers to.. ???, single dad & college girl (do not read warnings unless u wanna be lowk spoiled)
Pairing(s) : f4m college student!reader X singledad!Wooyoung
Warnings : (updated per chapter) SMUT, rough sex, kissing, fingering, lots of dubcon bordering on noncon, overstim, cum eating, lots of toxicity, drinking, grinding, single father, morally ambiguous behavior, very wrong takes, misogyny, mentions of CSA, reader is not the best person but she isn’t the worst!, Wooyoung is not what he seems, reader has bangs so bang representation in the most common way, weird ass people I’m telling you, idk how to talk to ppl so expect awkward dialogue ok bye, oc’s, Choi Jongho is BITCH, manipulation, Yeosang also isn’t the best wow, Ex Hongjoong, literal abuse, outrageous professor Choi San, ex Hongjoong
Synopsis : Y/N is your picture perfect, struggling student. Juggling work, a major degree in finance, and a minor in art—the one true thing she couldn’t give up when she became an adult. Her current life is filled with this same cycle of days, and she does it all while being exhausted. She then meets Wooyoung on a night of reckless and stupid fun with her friends. As her relationship with him deepens, she finds things out about him that pleasantly surprise her. The other things she finds out.. are not so pleasant.
Overall wc : 10.5k
A/N : get ready for crazy shit ahhhh I am loving writing this !!
Tracklist (hints and spoilers if you squint)
Chapter 1 : Piledriver
Chapter 2 : Inertia
Chapter 3 : Sleepyhead
Chapter 4 : Is This Love??
Chapter 5 : Vertigo (not yet written)
Chapter 6 : Queen (not yet written)
Chapter 7 : Roadkill (not yet written)
(Names are subject to change)
Everything under the tag #take the world series will you find everything on this story
Jason Todd gives me SUCH “you are so lucky you are hot” vibes lmao
like thankfully for him he’s so pretty and so hot that he can just say whatever and you (and everyone) will just nod in agreement and go “yeah whatever you say beautiful”
he’s self-aware enough to admit that if he were to rely solely on his flirting skills he would have neverrr pulled ur ass
he’s so awkward with itttt just outdated, awkwardly spat-out pick-up lines he cringes at himself for
Dick on the other hand? this man would flirt for a living if he could. actually he kinda does if you stop to think abt how that’s how he handles almost everything in life
he KNOWS perfectly well the effect he has on people. one smile from him and ur dead, gone, obliterated. you’d never even imagine the amount of fights he’s won by flirting as a distraction, it’s ridiculous
HUGE fan of making you flustered and then teasing you abt it some more. VERY forward. he is not one bit above using dirty tactics to throw you off your rhythm when sparring or arguing.
just getting by on pure charm
Tim CAN flirt but only through teasing. sometimes it works, most times however... well
it's the line between flirty teasing and just acting kinda... mean that's the issue. can you blame him? look who he grew up around, the banter at home is VIOLENTT. so no wonder sometimes he takes the whole teasing thing too far and it just comes out as straight-up insulting lmao
he'll have you thinking he just likes to pick on you which is so confusing cause you've never even done anything to this guy?
meanwhile he's so frustrated and confused as to how his brilliant and obvious attempts at flirting with you just? aren’t working? he's so confused when he realizes you're like actually mad and not just 'playing along'
Do you ever dream that you’re a princess who was captured by Commander Erwin after he and his men have conquered your kingdom, and he does sexy things to you? No? Just me?
(below the cut: tw for dubious consent; overstimulation, use of a sybian, rough sex, master/slave dynamic, object insertion, mentions of double penetration. please forgive me)
The Commander had defeated the King’s army, and his victory came with a prize: the King’s beautiful daughter, the princess of a Kingdom that was no more.
Through the bars of her narrow prison cell, he eyed her like a predator zeroing in on his prey, hungry to sink his teeth into that soft, untouched flesh.
“Pretty thing,” he almost growled at the sight of his bounty.
Her voice was barely a murmur when she replied, “I want to go home.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Princess.”
You no longer have a home to go back to. This is your new home.
She’d fought back valiantly when they’d chained her and taken her away, but that was days ago. There was no force left in her to protest: she sat there, slumped against the brick wall, her eyes welling up.
“Don’t cry, princess,” he cooed, reaching through the bars to stroke her cheek. She startled at the touch, but couldn’t escape it, given the size of the cell. “I won’t hurt you. I like to play with my toys, not break them.”
The Commander was a man of many dichotomies. His features were handsome—they reminded her of the men who’d asked her father for her hand in marriage before her world crumbled—but his blue eyes were cold, with something almost twisted in them. His palm was warm on her cold cheek, but it did not comfort her.
When the Commander’s men appeared behind him and he retrieved his hand, she found herself relieved, but only for a split second.
“Take her to the baths,” the Commander’s cold voice ordered the soldiers, “she’s in need of one. Then bring her to my chambers right after.”
“Shall we ask the help to fetch a clean dress, sir? Her dress is torn—”
The Commander was striding towards the door. With his back to them, he raised a hand, and the soldier fell silent instantly. “She will not need one.”
It fully dawned on her then: the fact that she was not just like any prisoner of war.
Her cell was unlocked, and the soldiers handed her to the Commander’s maids, where she was stripped of her torn, smudged dress—the last item that connected her to her old home—and then submerged in warm, soapy water, scrubbed down, prepared in all sorts of ways for what came next.
The days she’d spent locked up in that cell may have dulled her spirit, but now, reinvigorated by the bath, she didn’t hesitate to squirm and fight back as the soldiers delivered her to the Commander’s bedchamber. They tightened their hold on her arms in an attempt to keep her still, but she enjoyed one small victory when she managed to bite the hand of whoever was trying to muffle her. He hissed and let out a curse.
“There’s the little spitfire,” the Commander cooed mockingly. “I was wondering where she’d gone.”
“Fuck you!” she spat out.
“Restrain her,” he commanded. There were leather handcuffs already dangling from the bed canopy. “She needs a lesson in obedience.”
His voice sounded almost bored, like her act of rebellion did not faze him at all. He’d dealt with plenty of girls like her who thought they could rebel: he already knew how little it took to bend them to his will.
With her wrists tightly bound above her head, she had nowhere to go. She could only try to kick, but her attempts soon failed when the Commander, likely predicting it, grabbed her ankles and tied one to each bedpost, ensuring she was still and spread open in front of him.
“There we go,” he said, eyeing her languidly. “It’s a shame we needed to tie you all up to get to this point, but I’m sure you’re a quick learner, aren’t you?”
“I’m going to slit your throat at the first chance I get,” she hissed, staring daggers at him.
Realistically, she didn’t know how she’d even manage that, considering they’d taken away the blades she always kept strapped to her thigh when they’d taken her, but she could probably find another way. With her nails, maybe. Or her teeth.
“No, you won’t,” he sentenced. “You’ll soon learn that doing what you’re told is what is most beneficial to you, Princess. No need to worry: you’ll do that willingly in no time.”
“The hell I will.”
A challenge. The Commander never backed out from one. He flashed a wicked smile.
“You’ll come around. I assure you.”
*
Other than a powerful and efficient army, their Kingdom boasted highly advanced technology, developed by brilliant minds that were second to none in the entire Continent.
Many of their inventions were publicly celebrated for moving society forward through advancements in areas such as agriculture, transportation and medicine, but it was those belonging to the realm of carnality that received the highest of praises, albeit only behind close doors.
The Commander was notorious for keeping up to date with these technologies.
The latest talk of town was a machine they called a Sybian, taking its name from an ancient city notorious for the decadence of its people. The contraption almost resembled a horse’s saddle, except for the phallic-shaped appendage which stood right in the middle, powered by a long-lasting battery. There were multiple appendages available, all of varying sizes, making it possible to equip the machine according to taste.
He’d made this purchase over two months prior, and he had yet to find a way to test it—until now.
Around thirty minutes had passed since she had been presented to him. The Commander sat behind his heavy mahogany desk, working silently on urgent paperwork, but the room wasn’t silent at all.
“Ah—hah—”
The Commander continued writing the letter he was currently working on, without even sparing her a glance. He wasn’t totally unaffected, though: his cock had been fully hard in his slacks ever since the Sybian had drawn the first moans out of her.
Not yet, he reminded himself.
“Oh-h—fuck—you!”
“I suggest you watch your mouth, unless you want to spend all night like this.”
It was an empty threat: he knew he would be shoving himself inside her long before sunrise.
“Hnngh!”
“It must be torture, is it not?”
He picked up the remote control and turned the vibration of the Sybian to a higher setting. The scream that she let out was absolutely agonizing, proof of how badly she needed more. But the Princess was as stubborn as she was beautiful: those thirty minutes spent on the Sybian hadn’t been enough to make her admit it.
“And yet, all you have to do to get that sweet release you’re craving—” he turned the power back down once he could sense that she was close— “is beg, my pet. It’s that easy.”
Her frustrated whimper at the loss of stimulation was music to his ears. He pictured her all flushed, tears running down her rosy cheeks. His cock throbbed at the thought. He didn’t look up yet.
A half hour hadn’t been enough to turn her docile, but as the minutes rolled by she was clearly getting more and more desperate. The fire behind her insults was beginning to wane, making her lose her edge.
It was such an interesting case to observe, such a mesmerizing sight. It usually took much longer for his captives to completely give themselves over to him, to turn from hot-tempered to obedient, but this Princess was seemingly about to set a new record. The Sybian had proved itself to be quite a wonder.
He continued working on his correspondence, occasionally alternating between higher and lower vibration settings to keep her from reaching her peak. He was still trying not to look up, until a squelching sound forced him to take a look.
The Princess was no longer pretending she didn’t want it: she’d started to bounce herself on the Sybian, as much as her restraints allowed her. Her back arched delightfully as she tried to get the appendage deeper inside her cunt. It was quite an endeavour, given the size of the phallic-shaped appendage that he’d purposefully picked—one of the largest ones, but still smaller than his own cock, so that he could watch her struggle trying to sit on it while still being able to feel himself stretch her tight little pussy even further once he finally penetrated her.
He’d waited long enough. He set aside the letter he was currently writing and got up, walking towards the bed to feast on the sight that awaited him.
She’d clearly lost a lot of energy fighting back, and now the ropes keeping her arms tied above her head seemed the only thing keeping her upright. She wasn’t moving her hips too fast, but she moved with purpose, chasing an orgasm that still evaded her. He glanced down at where the appendage stretched her cunt: she was dripping so much that the contraption almost glistened with it, and the squelching noise it made, discernible over the buzz of the machine, was positively obscene.
When the Commander came to stand right in front of her, she looked at him with clouded eyes and dilated pupils. A dumbed out slut, just like he knew she could be.
“You’ve finally mellowed out, hmm?”
She let out a weak whimper.
“Hah—”
He took pity on her and untied her ankles from the bedposts; having regained partial freedom, she sluggishly dragged her legs so that she was on her knees and began riding the Sybian with more momentum, the squelching noise getting even louder, whimpering shamelessly each time she sank down on the appendage.
“Is there anything you’d like to tell me, Princess?”
“Mmh—hnngh—”
She began grinding on the attachment rather than bouncing on it, and his hungry eyes followed the circular movement of her hips.
“Use your words, Princess.”
He filled both hands with the warm weight of her breasts, fondling them a little before playing with her nipples. She shivered and let out a mewl.
Then, finally: “P-Please…!”
Her voice cracked a bit towards the end. She sounded exhausted.
“Please what?”
“Please—let me.” She gulped. “Let me c-come.”
“You’ll either come on my cock or not at all, my pet. You know what you have to say.”
Her frustrated whine made him chuckle. “P-Please, please, f—hhm—fuck me—fuck me!”
He smiled. “I told you you’d come around, Princess.”
He switched the Sybian off, and the room fell quiet without the buzzing of the machine. She whined: whether it was in frustration for having lost the stimulation of the vibration or relief because her aching cunt was finally getting some respite, he couldn’t say. The Commander lifted her off the machine, and the appendage slipped out of her folds with a wet pop.
Her hole was pink, wet and aching. Slightly gaping. Perfectly inviting.
“I’ve been looking forward to this moment.” He untied her wrists, knowing she was no longer in a position to rebel, and she fell back on the mattress with a thud. “I’ve guided an army, fought valiantly—” he unbuckled his belt, holding her gaze as she gulped, frozen— “and now I shall finally enjoy the prize of my victory.”
He exposed himself to her. The Princess from an hour earlier would have kept her thighs close and made a biting remark, but this was a Princess that the sweet torture had rendered pliable and obedient, and so her legs fell open without even having to be told.
Her wetness coated his length as he slid it up and down her folds, earning more pathetic whimpers from her.
“Yes, my pet. See how much prettier you look when you give yourself over to pleasure rather than resisting it?” The large tip of his cock caught her rim and she squirmed. “Shh. Be a good girl and stay still.”
He gripped her slender hips firmly and pushed his entire length inside, breaching her in one go. His grunt almost drowned out her gasp.
“Yes,” he exhaled. “Oh, Princess, this cunt is divine.”
It was just as he’d imagined it, if not better. Despite the hour she’d spent being impaled by the large appendage of the Sybian, she was still impossibly tight, pulsating around him as she struggled to adjust to his massive size.
He couldn’t help but let out a satisfied groan: hers was truly unlike any cunt he’d tried before. This kind of conquest far outshined that of her whole kingdom, delighted him in a way that expanding his territories couldn’t.
Being the first man to sink between this Princess’ legs: that was the real victory.
“There you go,” he cooed as she whimpered, fisting the sheets underneath her. She looked so small compared to him: it was crazy to think that his whole massive cock was stuffed inside such a tiny cunt. “Such a sweet, delicate body.” He started thrusting, gently at first, then his pace got more frenzied. “Perhaps I ought to make you my bride.” He kept his eyes focused on where their bodies were joined, listening to the clicking sound that each thrust produced from how wet she was. “Yes, I ought to make you my bride—mmh. You’re at just the right age to be a wife, are you not, Princess?”
Despite her almost drunken state, images of her suitors, bowing before her, bringing her flowers, kissing her hand, flashed before her eyes. It felt like a lifetime had passed.
“Pretty—young—thing,” he grunted, marking each word with a solid thrust. “Yes, you will be my wife, and then I shall breed you…”
“Ahh—mmh!” she moaned. “Yes!”
“Sweet girl, you don’t even know what you’re saying yes to, do you?” he chuckled, folding her legs to her chest in order to sink even deeper. He brought his face close to hers. “But it doesn’t matter—you shall carry my heir inside you, Princess.” He licked the shell of her ear, and she shivered again. “Mmh, yes—together we’ll start a new era in both of our histories, an era in which our Kingdoms are united…”
“Ah—hah—”
Her orgasm felt earth-shattering and never-ending. He felt her flutter around him for what seemed like an eternity, and that’s when he followed suit, filling her with ropes after ropes of his seed. It was a delight to watch it drip out after he’d pulled out, and the sight of her red, stretched, used hole drove him even wilder. He threw a glance at the spherical shape of the bedpost, and it gave him a devious idea.
“Still hungry, Princess? Was my cock not enough?”
He picked up her small, limp body, and lowered her down on the bedpost. It seemed impossible that it could work, it was thicker than his cock, thicker than any of the appendages that could be mounted on the Sybian, but she surprised him: she took it beautifully, just like his cock earlier, and mewled in ecstasy as he bounced her up and down on it.
As for the Commander, he felt like he’d descended into madness. He’d just conquered a powerful Kingdom and their Princess along with it. Between her legs, he just had a taste of what Heaven felt like. Now that she was letting him use her body in such a way, he let his imagination run wild: he fantasized about sitting her down on anything remotely phallic-shaped, from the bedpost to a bottle to the shower head. He fantasized about penetrating her with his cock while simultaneously using the Sybian.
He even fantasized about calling some of his fellow men to try her out, so that he could watch her get fucked by multiple cocks at once. Mike’s cock was just as thick as his, and he was curious to find out whether she’d be able to take them both. Or perhaps he should call Levi up first, get her acquainted with the idea with a cock whose size isn’t as intimidating. But he reckoned that she’d be able to take all of them, eventually, in all the holes that her body offered.
Fueled by his fantasies and the pretty sounds she made, he took her off the bedpost and positioned her on all fours, ready to fuck her again as many times as he saw fit, because she was his prize.
*
It’s funny, because I actually believe that Erwin cannot call you a slut in bed without feeling super guilty about it. Imagine:
“Erwin. I want you to pretend you’re the Commander of a powerful army who just conquered a kingdom, and I’m the helpless princess you’ve just taken as a prisoner of war—”
“A prisoner? But honey, that’s so degrading—”
And what you just read is the scene you roleplay that night. The end.
Summary: After a long and exhausting day at HQ, Hobie finds comfort in you.
Warnings: Fluffy, Spider!reader, established relationship, soft!Hobie.
Hobie stumbled through the door, placing his guitar down before shrugging off his battle vest and throwing it gently onto the coat rack. He kicked off his already unzipped boots, letting out a heavy sigh. By the time he made it to the bedroom, he’d already finished taking off his three over-accessorized belts, peeling off his bracelets, and ripping off his choker before finally allowing his shoulders to fully slump.
“Oh, baby.” You said softly as he approached you, collapsing on top of you with a bitter smile. An action he immediately regretted, as his sore body took in the soft impact. He groaned, to which you grimaced. “That bad, huh?” He just nodded, and you didn’t ask any more questions.
You didn’t speak. Didn’t force him to get up despite his weight crushing you. Didn’t ask him any questions. You just sat there, tracing gentle patterns against his shoulder blade as he ranted about how bad his day went.
“And then Miguel punished me for it!! I mean, I saved those kids, and it wasn’t even apart of that canon bullshit!” He said angrily, sighing heavily. “I hate this stupid society. All these stupid spiders, and their stupid suits, and these stupid missions.”
“Hey! I’m a stupid spider with a stupid suit who goes on stupid missions!!” You said in mock offense.
Hobie just rolled his eyes, burying his face deeper in the crook of your neck. “Mm…gonna get some rest. ‘M tired.” He mumbled, readjusting till his legs were thrown carelessly over yours. Just like always. You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before letting him slump back into your shoulder. “Night, Bee. Get some rest.”
And he did. He slept until late in the morning, still on top of you and still crushing you with his weight. But you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him, not with the way he was quietly snoring and his hand was tangled in your hair. So you let him sleep. And damn, was it worth it. He woke up with a new sense of energy, like you’d brought back a spark that had long died out. Hell, maybe you did. All Hobie knows is that he loves you, even when he’s tired and moody and bruised.
The awesomesauce @obiwhat made a beautiful ocelhira dry humping comic(<-click to see comic)and I was ✨️inspired✨️ to write Venom being a voyeur :3c
Venom wasn't going to say anything about the mic, he wasn't that far. Then he heard a thump. Loud and clear, quickly followed by another.
Before he could ask what was up, an unmistakable gasp from Ocelot cut through the mic, "Eager, Miller?"
From there the thumping was a consistent rythem. Kaz stuttered out a "shut up". It didn’t take long for Venom to connect the dots, as the low raspy sounds of their moans filled his ears.
He swore his heart rate matched the rhythm of the thumping. His mouth felt dry as he listened, desperate please to go harder and faster made Venom's head spin. For a second, he wondered if he managed to pick up some distant dirty radio show, until he heard Kaz scold Ocelot for trying to bite him.
Venom placed his hands in his lap as he leaned back and listened to the two go at it, like a sinful symphony. He wondered if Ocelot left the mic on on purpose or not.
"Ocelot- wait, I'm gonna..."
Definitely on purpose.
Kaz keens high in his throat, followed by Ocelot making a familiar teasing sound. The thumping stops. "You fucking asshole," Kaz groans, Venom can hear the way he says it through gritted teeth like a growling dog.
Venom can feel his body temperature rising as he listens to them tease each other, and it wasn’t from annoyance that made him flush. He swallows thickly as the thumping finally resumes. "Good, good boy," Ocelot drawls out, breathless.
Kaz whines at that, and Venom fights back his own. He can hear them get more and more desperate, the thumping losing it's steady rhythm, more moans and sharp inhales replace their bickering. Kaz’s telltale weak, "Oh...oh!" is enough to make Venom realize they are about to land.
Clearing his throat, "Uh, guys... the mic is still on." Immediate stillness on the other end, a long pause is followed by the click of them disconnecting from the line. Venom ran a hand down his face, what was he going to do with those two?
It would make this longer but imagine the kevin james shrugging meme is here instead. Also if you want to see the words in the background of panel two, click here ;)
Cw: blood, injury, death (temporarily), CPR resulting in broken ribs
Concept: Zeb and Hera being sent as backup for a mission gone wrong. They're sent in to rescue another rebel crew whose captain in command stayed behind to give his squad enough time to escape with the injured. The group refuses to leave without their captain and Zeb is sent in to try to retrieve him - or his body. Things are looking rather grim - He's searching through the rubble as his eyes land on a head of blonde hair. As he moves closer he sees the blood staining it, then notices the light green jacket. He recognizes the person - Alexsandr.
They hadn't talked in a while, work for the rebellion keeping both of them busy. He knew Alexsandr had been going on more field missions, having always preferred to take part of the action, rather than simply make his moves from afar. Of course he had sent his friend a worrying thought on occasion, but he had in no way been prepared for this.
Alexsandr is cold - lifeless. Zeb doesn't have to check for a pulse. He isn't breathing. His normally beautiful, blonde hair is sticking to the bloodied side of his face. Mercifully saving Zeb from the certainly grotesque wound underneath it.
Zeb picks him up, feeling his own breathing hitch painfully as Alexander the body goes limp in his arms. Rigor mortis hasn't set in yet. His death was recent...
Perhaps he still had time.
Zeb rushes back to the Ghost, heart pounding violently. Once there, he hands Alexsandr to the squad's medic, yelling for Hera to gun it.
The squad watches with bated breath as the medic works tirelessly to bring their captain back. Zeb flattens his ears as a sickening crunch breaks from Kallus' ribs on impact from the CPR. Zeb has witnessed enough to know that this is normal. It never makes it any easier though. Zeb finds himself muttering a prayer to the great Ashla.
