Wouldn't you Like to Know, Weather Boy?

I'd rather be cringe tbh | he/they | 27

[themsthebreaksmyguy]

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙JUD✩S | NSFW ALT FOR: a-pastel-edgelord ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙✩̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙

Moth Eaten Thoughts

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡・゜゜・．.・゜゜・･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡

i like what i like so you don't have to.

won't you stay with me, my darling, when the war starts in my heart?

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡・゜゜・．.・゜゜・･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡

[mintmatcha]

sero's smile is lopsided, nearly sliding off of his face the eay he nearly slides off the booth when he turns to you. the izakaya is loud and the air tastes of cigarettes and stale beer, but the food is good and the drinks are cold. It's been your spot for your friend dates (freights) for years; this seat's cushion is probably permanently shaped like your ass.

"Hey." Sero leans towards you, hand bumping into your thigh. "Can I eat you out?"

You blink. Then, blink again. "What?"

There's no shame in his glossed over eyes. "Can I lick your pussy? My mouth is, like, craving it so bad."

That makes you scoff.

"You're drunk."

"Uh, duh. That's the best time to eat it." Sero's eyes travel down to the high hem of your skirt. "I can get all sloppy and weird with it."

"I'm all sweaty-" You aren't sure why you're even entertaining this, but that makes Sero hunch over the table and groan.

"Stop, I'll get hard," he pleads.

[sunee-syrup]

SEIJOH FOUR POLY SEIJOH FOUR POLY SEIJOH FOUR POLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

[hinamie]

bring it on!

cursed kids v3 [1] [2]

[monstersholygrail]

Dilf Monster Baby Daddy who thinks you’ve only gotten more attractive since giving birth to his young. He remembers the conception well and thinks of it quite often. How well you took his seed. Your eager womb desperately slurping up every drop, your walls clamping down around his length to milk all you could from him.

It makes him hard every time the memory resurfaces and he can’t stop himself from searching for you to bend you over the nearest surface available and taking you all over again. Whispering dirty memories in your ear and telling you about all the worse things he plans to do with you.

Dilf Monster Baby Daddy who him himself has gotten broader after becoming a father. His kind say it happens when one is happy with their mate. Content. And while he’s not mated with you he is happy. It would make sense his arms and thighs would get thicker, a slight pudge builds at the bottom of his otherwise solid stomach, and he was all around softer and easier to melt into.

And he couldn’t bother to try and be upset about it either. Because after every time he takes your sweet cunt you sag down on top of him and moan ever so softly. Your plush limbs all sprawled over as you nuzzle into him.

It has his cock raging with arousal in a matter of minutes. And you make the cutest little noises of protest when his leaking tip presses back against your entrance. But with a few gentle pleas he has you opening yourself up for him to stretch you on his girth.

Dilf Monster Baby Daddy who doesn’t realize how bad it is that he hasn’t mated you till you’re asking him to take their young for the night on a night meant to be yours. He knows you don’t ask something like this lightly so he can’t help but ask whatever for even though he’s already accepted your request.

When you tell him that you have a date for tonight he feels his entire world come to a stand still. Everything crashing down around him and he can do nothing but stand there and watch it happen. Jaw dropped and eyes widened as you come out of your room in the most gorgeous dress he’s ever seen. Your changed softened body looking more drool-worthy than ever.

Dilf Monster Baby Daddy who snaps himself out of this. No way. He can’t lose you like this and without a fight. But instead of acting rashly and possibly losing you forever he decides to be subtle about it. By showing you just how good of a mate he could he if only you’d choose him to spend forever with.

The next day he refrains from asking how the date went. He doesn’t wanna know or else he may just go feral. It’s much better to focus on how he can take care of you and the child you share together. When you go together for outings he hoists you both into his big arms, muscles rippling as he barely lets either of your little legs touch and the ground. And more than once does he catch your gaze on them.

Dilf Monster Baby Daddy spoils the two of you like never before. He was always generous in how deeply he cherished you both but in the days that pass he really goes above and beyond. Pulling out every stop to show you how good of a mate he could be.

His efforts aren’t in vein either. Every day the three of you spend together he watches from the corner of his eye as you practically eye fuck him. Slobbering over him just as much as you did when you two first met. It has his chest puffing up with pride and hope blooming in his belly. He’s certain that the other man won’t be seen again.

Dilf Monster Baby Daddy is immediately stopped in his tracks when the next week you ask him to take your sweet youngling again because of a hectic change of plans. He almost doesn’t dare to ask this time. Wanting to spend a little longer in disbelief. But the question falls from his lips without permission and your response was as he feared.

You had another date.

Dilf Monster Baby Daddy can’t take this time. Especially when you come out in a dress even better than before. Luckily the youngling is already asleep so he can focus all of his attentions on you and getting it into your thick head who you truly belong with. His claws are out of his control as he pins you against the closest wall and shreds that beautiful dress to pieces.

Your shrieks only turn him on even harder, and your confused stare as you ask him what in the hell he thinks he’s doing. He’s practically leaking a puddle in his boxers because no matter what you can’t hide the fast rise and fall of your chest and your dilated pupils.

Dilf Monster Baby Daddy fucks you against possibly every surface in your room, whispering endless words of praises into your ears and into your skin. Explaining that you’re his and you always have been. No one else will have you so long as he’s around. Worshipping every inch both old and new. Biting at your soft flesh and searing it with his scent. Making sure it’s so strong that both monster and human will know that you’re rightfully and fully taken.

He plays with your body, working it and proving just how deeply he knows you both inside and out. Tweaking at your overly sensitive nipples, grinning wickedly when they bead with milk that doesn’t belong to him.

Still he takes it greedily too. Everything you have to offer he wants it all. And when he moves his hand down your plump frame to roll the even more sensitive bud of nerves between your thick thighs he scoops up every little drop of essence that spills there too and drinks it as if it’s the finest ambrosia.

Dilf Monster Baby Daddy doesn’t stop until you’re a boneless pile of mush. Making you cum over and over again, painting his cock white with your cum. In return he spills every heavy load into your walls, filling you to the brim till it spills out of you and then quickly splashing more into your depths to replace any that got away from leaving.

Leaving you way too fucked out to even think about going on a date with someone else. And even when finished he keeps his already rock hard cock all snug inside you, grinding the hilt of him against your entrance like it isn’t quite close enough. You can’t even think about complaining when he’s all softness and warmth. Not that you would either way.

Dilf Monster Baby Daddy doesn’t know how much his words have taken root in you. While you haven’t thought much about staying with the man who helped you bring a child into this world, the more you think about it the more you like it. In fact, you like it a lot. Realizing that you actually do want to be his and you want him to be yours.

Especially as the next day he continues to be the amazing monster you’ve known for years now. Always attentive and protective of both you and your baby. He keeps you pressed firmly against his side until a sudden gust of wind blows through and your child whines in protest, adorable face scrunching up as if close to crying.

Dilf Monster Baby Daddy briefly releases you from his hold to use the hand not holding them up to fix their scarf. You smile at the scene, melting at the sight of them before your eyes unintentionally wander and you see you’re not the only one affected. A few women ooing and awing at him.

A sudden urge of possessiveness takes over you for the first time, taking you by surprise as you wrap your arm around his waist this time. The other women’s eyes flit over to you, realization sparking before they quickly turn their backs to you in embarrassment. It seems you guys aren’t the only ones surprised as he turns to look at you. His gaze curious and innocent as your child’s, making you melt all over again.

Dilf Monster Baby Daddy asks gently what you’re doing. For a moment you think about lying or brushing it off. But when you meet his eye you can’t hold back in admitting that you’re staking your claim in return. He smiles, nodding as if praising you and then returning the gesture. Fusing you back to his side as you guys go on about your day as a new family.

And while he might’ve claimed you as a mate in the monster way his next move will be to claim you in the human way. Putting a ring on your finger that you’ll never be able to take off.

[bowtiepasta-deactivated20260309]

WINDOWS WORK BOTH WAYS

kinktober day two: a pair of windows and one thin strip of lawn, the kind of odd friendship tied by red string. after years, one day you come back home to visit. turns out he is too.

caller id: kageyama tobio — indulging: smut, 18+, afab reader, childhood friends/boy next door, bad home life, phone sex, watch me watch you, masturbation both ways, some dirty talk; from an augustinthewinter audio. 3,253 words

a/n: forewarning that this is possibly my least fav fic from my kinktober this year …:’) i just don’t think it’s very well written and super repetitive. nevertheless i hope you enjoy yourselves

read more | give me a kiss | send a request

your tuesdays belonged to kageyama tobio.

your bedroom window faced his across the narrow alley between your houses. if you opened yours and leaned out, you could see directly into his—not that he ever had the curtains pulled back for long.

but every tuesday after the sun went down, the light would flick on. and within five minutes, he’d open his window, unlatch the screen, prop it up, and climb out like it was muscle memory.

then he’d jump the fence.

offhand errands and neighborly guilt were what brought you your very first friend.

homework side by side at your grandmother’s kitchen table, peeling satsumas, watching VHS recordings of pro matches in silence until he couldn’t hold in a lecture anymore and started breaking down every toss and spike as though he was born to do so. which, you were starting to believe, he might have been.

you never asked why he always came over instead of inviting you to his place, but you suspected it had something to do with his father’s car being in the driveway less and less as the months went by.

your mother would see him standing awkwardly outside the sliding door and tell you, “that boy’s here again. don’t let him eat all the senbei.”

he waited patiently for you in the living room, still in his school uniform, not without a volleyball under one arm, his backpack splayed open on the kitchen table.

“can i do homework here?” he’d ask, as if he hadn’t done the same the last seventeen tuesdays.

“yeah. leave your shoes by the door this time.”

you were about twelve, when you started understanding just how serious it was for him.

kageyama would bring his own pencil case and a copy of monthly volleyball, dog-eared and scribbled in. when the schoolwork was done, he’d take out the magazine and start breaking it down aloud—quietly at first, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed.

that boy would circle moves he wanted to try and mimic tosses with throw pillows. balanced a ball between his hands to describe the visual mechanics of a perfect set, teaching himself without realizing he was teaching you, too.

“i saw someone do a one-handed back set in brazil,” he mumbled from the couch, eyes gleaming. “i think i could do it if i fix the way i step.”

you leaned back on the carpet, fingers sticky from mandarin oranges. “if you make it to nationals one day, will you tell me?”

he turned his head to look at you. “why wouldn’t i?”

you didn’t know what changed, but after junior high started, he stopped coming over.

maybe it was the new school. maybe it was the way he started practicing more, talking less. maybe it was the space he needed after his grandfather’s funeral.

your window stayed open those tuesdays, though.

at first it was habit. then it was hope.

he went to kitagawa daiichi. you heard through your neighbor. “he’s playing in a lot of tournaments now,” she rambled on. “maybe even one in tokyo.”

by high school, he was more myth than boy.

kageyama tobio. the prodigy. the king. you didn’t go out of your way to avoid him even though he still lived next door. you just never had a reason to cross paths. not when he was playing matches across the country and you were barely making it through finals.

and then suddenly, graduation came.

then he was truly, finally gone—off chasing a life you only ever caught glimpses of in interviews and magazine headlines.

you don’t come home often.

calls and texts have been enough, most of the time check-ins, asking after your mom, letting her tell you what’s new in the neighborhood and what mirin brand they discontinued from the local grocery store.

but when she mentioned the doctor’s appointment, paired with the too-quick laugh after saying she’d be fine on her own, you opened your laptop and booked the tickets that night.

you told her you finally had time, that you needed a break from the city. both excuses, still easier to say than “i’m homesick” and “i’m worried about you.”

the flight was cheap. the return date left blank.

by the time you step out of the car in front of your old house, suitcase rattling against uneven pavement, you wonder if it was a mistake. the shutters need paint, the lawn’s grown in uneven patches, and everything smells faintly of the past—of dust and rain and summer break.

the lock sticks the same way it always did, and when the door opens, the air is heavy with familiarity. not warmth, exactly, but close.

the rooms are smaller than you remember, and the wallpaper hasn’t aged well.

you drop your bag by the stairs and make your way upstairs, where the window faces the same narrow strip of lawn it always did.

you convince yourself you’re here to take care of mom, to catch your breath, to remind you of where you began. that it’s nothing more than a quick trip down memory lane.

you don’t even realize until your palm’s on the frame, the old wood warm from the late sun.

the blinds are drawn. not enough to see anything. yet just enough to see light.

his light.

a glow you haven’t seen in years.

there he is. not on a glossy page, but in the window across from yours, finally looking back.

for a moment you think you’ve imagined it. but then his expression shifts—a puzzle snapping into place, as though he’s put a name to the face in front of him.

he disappears. a shadow moving quick out of sight. your heart jolts, heavier than you want to admit, then you feel the buzz in your pocket.

you swipe to answer.

“...you still have the same number?” his voice is lower than you remember, but there’s no mistaking it.

your laugh catches on your tongue. “you do too.”

he grins, and you swear feel the warmth slip back into your limbs. “so,” you start. “you’re back?”

“for now.” he sighs. “season break. national team training resumes in august.”

you nod slowly, smiling as he comes back into view. “do you miss it when you’re not playing?”

tobio leans back in his chair. “no.”

you arch a brow.

he clarifies. “i miss it when i am playing, too. if the match is bad. if i mess up. if my teammates aren’t as focused that day. i even miss it when i win sometimes, because i should’ve done better.”

you shift against the sill, cheek pressed to your knuckles. “that sounds miserable.”

he looks away. “it’s not. i just want to be the best.”

“you always did.”

“yeah, but now i know how far i am from it.”

“you’re the best setter japan’s had in a decade.” you yawn, bring your knees up to your chest while the jet lag catches up. “they say it on TV all the time.”

“they say a lot of things on TV.”

“that one’s true.” you tilt your head, eyes meeting his.

the line is quiet for a beat, then he exhales. “everyone keeps saying that. but i don’t know. i feel the same.”

you bite down a smile. “you got taller.”

“so did you,” he says, sounding nervous. “thought i was seeing things. when i looked out.”

you laugh under your breath, the sound crackling on the phone’s speaker. “thanks, i think.”

a low sigh rushes past the receiver. “that’s not what i meant. i’m… i’m trying to say you look good.”

your grip on the phone tightens. “you think so?”

“yeah,” he nods. “you grew up well.”

“thank you,” you warm. “you look good too.”

he flushes. “that means a lot coming from you.”

your chest feels heavy. “why’s that?”

“i don’t know.” he fidgets with something you can’t see. “i had a really big crush on you.”

you laugh, incredulous. “are you serious?”

he looks over. “why wouldn’t i be?”

“since when?” you angle yourself so it feels like he’s right in front of you. in a sense, he is.

“well i don’t anymore,” he hurries to cover. “it started the day you talked about me making it to nationals.”

“well ouch,” you joke. “you’re so conceited.”

“fuck you,” he smiles, and you bristle at the profanity, the reality of just how far you’ve come settling in.

“-i’m humbler than i used to be.”

“i’m sure,” you shake your head, checking the time when you see him yawn. 3:54 am. “that’s a low bar.”

“i thought you forgot about me,” he admits suddenly.

“even with your face on every magazine cover from hokkaido to okinawa?” you laugh.

his ears pinken, “those were stupid.”

“they were not,” you counter. “i’d stop at the store sometimes and flip through just to see what you were up to. mom thinks you’re getting real handsome.”

he glances back. “what about you?”

“what about me?” you tilt your head, putting the phone between your neck and shoulder as you stretch your limbs. you hear a noise that sounds like thinking.

“what do you think of me now?”

“have you been drinking?” you laugh again, not expecting him to be so forward after all these years.

you hear him sip. “just a little.”

“what’s a little?”

“whatever amount of alcohol you can drink in your parents’ house without it being pathetic, i guess?”

you hum. “would’ve been less pathetic if you weren’t doing it alone. could’ve invited me over.”

“i didn’t know you were home. not until ten minutes ago.” he rolls his eyes. “i didn’t even know you drank.”

“yes you did!” you scroll through your instagram, finding a picture he liked from a month ago, tilting the screen toward the window. “i know you keep up.”

“i mean, yeah, i do.” he chuckles at the photo. “not from there, though. don’t you remember?”

“remember what?”

“in january, when you called me.” as the words leave his mouth, vague memories appear with them.

you’re grateful you don’t remember most of it. but the breakup, and driving back from college to cope, are details you recall all too well. kageyama pipes up again on the other end. “you asked me if i was home, and i thought it was funny how drunk you sounded.”

the details get fuzzy there. “what else did i say?”

“you really don’t remember?”

“…no? is that bad?”

“oh.” he says through a smile, clearly liking the one-up he’s gained on you. dread settles in your gut. “well,”

“you left your blinds open,” he starts, voice shrinking for some reason. “mine were open too, but only because you called, and i got curious.”

he laughs. “then you took your shirt off.”

you stay quiet, not saying anything, letting him run with it despite the crimson creeping up your cheeks.

“you took your belt off next,” he says, voice low, steady. “the boots too. just… stepped out of them.”

a pause, a big breath. “then you turned around, faced away from me, and unclipped your bra.”

“i’m… so sorry,” you murmur, face hot.

“you don’t need to apologize,” he says quickly. “i could’ve looked away. so… i sort of feel like a creep.”

you can’t help it—you laugh, sharp and a little breathless with relief. “well, that makes you human.”

he chuckles, the sound carrying low over the line. “yeah, i guess. sorry… not sorry?”

you laugh again, shaking your head. “i really am sorry.”

“don’t be,” he says, “i thought it was kind of hot.”

his voice drops, controlled but clearly self-conscious. “you can hang up if you want. i’ll understand.”

you smile to yourself. “i’m not hanging up.”

“so…” you start after a beat, voice low. “you’ve been thinking of me all this time?”

“every once in a while,” he admits, careful. “more than i’d like to. back then, i used to think you were the prettiest thing i’d ever seen.”

you swallow. “and now?”

“still do. maybe even more than then.” he says, looking away. “i like that outfit you’re wearing.”

you laugh softly, “because you can see my tits?”

“i mean, that’s a plus.” the corners of his mouth pull upwards. “i just… think it really suits you.“

“thank you,” you murmur, voice soft—just as you hear a low, muffled noise from his end of the line.

you freeze, brow furrowing. “tobio… are you…?”

there’s a quick hitch in his breath. “i… uh…” his words falter, sharp inhale. “yeah. i… i can’t help it.”

“…is that… okay?” his voice is low, tense, and wary, like he’s still testing the waters.

you nod, slowly. “did you take it out?”

he hesitates, a short, frustrated groan escaping. “not… not yet. it’s still… in my pants.” another sharp inhale. “can i? it really hurts.”

“have you, thought about me before?” you tease, ignoring his ask. “touching yourself?”

a ragged breath comes through. “i-” his voice catches, almost a whisper now. “yeah. i have.” there’s a scrape of fabric, almost as if he’s fisting his shirt.

“how many times?”

“i don’t know,” the words are strained. “often.”

“what did you think about?” you press, curious.

“you… the things i saw on your instagram… posts when you wore… um… slutty outfits out with your friends,” he says just as he shifts slightly, and the metallic click of a zipper reaches your ears.

his arms are thick now, strong and muscled in a way they weren’t back in middle school, hands gripping at himself through his pants as if he can barely contain the tension coiling through his body. “fuck... i’m trying to be respectful, i swear.”

“you can take it out.”

“thank you,” he says through a low, rough moan, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he fully unzips.

you watch him, chest rising and falling, hand wrapping tight around himself. your lips curve into a teasing smirk. “do you want… some help?”

“yes… god, yeah,” he groans, sharp and tense.

you pull your top off, watch the way his pupils blow wide. “nice bra.”

“nice dick,” you shoot back, and he laughs, arm starting to move behind the frame blocking your view.

“are you just going to watch?”

“why?” your lips part. “you want me to join in?”

“if you—mmph, if you want to.” the wet, slick sound of his hand sliding up and down punctuates the words.

his breathing rattles, uneven, chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his hand. “aren’t you wet?”

“i can check,” you joke, one that he clearly doesn’t find funny, but the grin splits across his face when he hears the sounds your fingers make against your clit.

he can barely see you now, on your bed that’s angled away from the window. he hears it all, though.

the wet drag of your fingers, your uneven breathing carrying through the speaker.

your head tips back, heat flooding your chest. “do you want me to stop?”

“no. don’t stop.” his breath hitches, audible. “been thinking about you like this too long to tell you to stop.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, hand working between your legs, the phone hot against your ear. “yeah?”

“yeah,” he says, blunt, steady. “since before i left. since that night you-” he cuts himself off, exhaling hard. “you don’t even know what you did to me.”

you bite down on your lip, pulse racing. “then tell me.”

his jaw tightens, and for a moment he doesn’t look at you, like he needs the space to say it out loud. “sometimes after practice. when it was shit, or i couldn’t get my serve right… i’d get back to my room, lie down, and think about your mouth.”

your hand slows, wanting every word. “my mouth?”

his breathing deepens, “your lips. the way you’d chew on your pens when you got antsy. i’d close my eyes and picture you on your knees instead.”

your thighs clench, hips rolling into your own fingers. “tobio-”

he doesn’t flinch at his name, doesn’t even hesitate. “sometimes i’d think about you at the window. waiting for me. wearing shorts so small i could see your ass when you leaned on the frame. god.”

there’s a pause on his end, and you hear it. the steady slap of his hand around his cock.

your hips jerk up into your hand, two fingers slipping inside you while your thumb grinds against your clit. “fuck… i can hear it.”

he grits out a laugh, shaky. “yeah? i can hear you too. fingers working that pussy like you’ve done it before, thinking about me.”

“i have,” you gasp, curling your fingers up, chasing that spot. “so many fucking times.”

he groans, deep and guttural, his rhythm picking up. “tell me. tell me what you think about.”

“your hands,” you whine. “those big fucking hands—wanted them on me for years.” your wrist aches, but you don’t stop, your voice breaking. “wish they were inside me instead of mine.”

he growls low in his throat, stroking faster, the sound of it filthy through the speaker. “wish i could bury my fingers in you and make you come. fuck, i’d ruin you.”

you moan into the receiver, hips lifting off the bed as your fingers curl harder inside you. “keep talking.”

his hand is loud now, quick strokes, precum slicking every drag of his fist. he’s not holding back anymore. “your tits—” his breath hitches, ragged. “wanted to get my mouth on them since i saw that top. grab them, suck them, leave you shaking.”

your free hand squeezes over your chest through your top, nails digging in. “fuck—”

“bet your pussy’s tight around your fingers,” he grits out, stroking faster, voice dipping. “you’d squeeze the life outta me if i was inside you right now.”

your thighs clamp together, wrist straining as you fuck yourself harder, thumb pressed so tight to your clit you’re seeing stars. “i’m close-”

he groans, hand smacking wet around himself. “me too- shit, keep going. wanna hear you come for me.”

your breath breaks into a sob as your body arches, everything snapping. “fuck, fuck, fuck- tobio—”

his hand doesn’t stop, even when you cry out into the phone, your fingers pulsing inside you. he strokes himself through it, teeth gritted, voice sharp. “holy fuck- you sound so good- fuck, i’m cumming-”

your body is still trembling, every nerve raw as you listen to him come undone. the sheets are damp under you, your chest heaving as you swallow air back down. your clit throbs, oversensitive, and every little brush of fabric feels like too much.

you press the heel of your hand against your stomach, grounding yourself. your legs won’t stop twitching, small aftershocks sparking up your thighs.

the phone is hot against your cheek, slippery in your grip, but you don’t hang up. you can still hear him—breathing hard, shifting, the faint drag of his palm across his leg.

you smile, voice shot, throat tight. “can’t feel my legs.”

he lets out a short laugh, still rough around the edges. “me neither.”

your eyes flick to the window. he’s already looking back, hair messy, shirt clinging to his chest.

“that was fun,” you murmur, eyes swimming in his.

his chuckle carries through the speaker. “yeah. better than i expected.” a pause. “i missed you.”

“missed you too.”

he leans closer to the glass, mouth quirking. “we should do it again.”

you huff a soft laugh. “phone sex?”

“no,” he says, unlatching the lock. “come over.”

bowtiepasta made this. do not copy repost or feed to ai. dm for permission to translate or recommend. spam interactions are a-okay.

@therealmrsbahng @badbclub @kakuthefish @luustdovr @deltamel @bxnfire @manhattanstrawberry @lipstainedgemini @noyaswrld i love you all

[respectissexy]

"I'm no better than a man!" Men being horny for women is also morally neutral. Hope this helps.

[cheshirelipstick]

[adulthumanproblem-deactivated20]

Men being horny for women isn't inherently about power though. Like this is so odd. OP is completely correct and y'all should really acknowledge that yes, straight men being horny for women IS in fact morally neutral

[myboyrozanovv]

Mens attraction being inherently predatory and destructive and needing to be restrained is, in fact, part of evangelical ideology, and i think a number of people have unrecognised evangelical beliefs, left over from their youth or gained from societal permeation of whatever. And maybe they should recognise and critically examine those beliefs. And think a bit about where they got them from, instead of thinking up feminist justifications for them.

[hunter-rodrigez]

"Mens attraction being inherently predatory" is an excuse to pretend men are mindless beasts who aren't in control of their own actions, which by extension also means they cannot be blamed for said actions.

It's "Boys will be boys" taken to the extreme.

It's the attitude that leads to bullshit like blaming rape victims for the way they were dressed.

It's not feminism, it's the exact opposite, it's a fucking scapegoat for the people these "radical feminists" claim to hate.

[honestlyvan]

Another thing fandom needs to start doing more of is projecting on tops.

There are delicious amounts of psychological distress you can inflict on that guy once you get into his head. The brainworms of forcing agency and initiative on someone who genuinely is Not Fucking Ready For It are exquisite.

[honestlyvan]

To quote myself: Domtops in fics are always written to have such uncomplicated and healthy relationships to their sexualities and for my mental health I need us to collectively start giving them complexes about being some kind of monstrous predatory freak of nature instead.

Make that guy have a panic attack b/c someone in his daydream told him to stop and he kept going anyway.

[honestlyvan]

New and improved! Sad Wet Dog of a top is thinking about how he wants to hurt you but doesn't want to hurt you and the contradiction is slowly and steadily making him Lose His Whole Fucking Mind.

[rhodi-rwn]

They didn't mean to be radiosilent all day, it just slips their mind sometimes :<

(also posted on Tiktok: @/rhodirwn)

y'all have no idea how long this took me, it's absurd

[unearthlyeclipse]

THE HANKS FROM DATE EVERYTHING PLEASE I BEG OF THEE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEEE

THE HANKS P!LINKS + HEADCANONS // NSFW/SMUT/FLUFF

A/N: Just for you twinnn <3 I feel like it would be difficult to do links for all 5 of them, I've decided to write some small headcannons and such, but I'm adding a visualizer for each one :) I ALSO HAD ANOTHER PERSON REQUEST THESE BEAUTIES!!! THIS IS FOR YOU TOO!!!

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, fluff, mixtures of headcannons and visualizers/links, p in v, riding, teasing, dirtytalk, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, blowjobs, breeding kink(?), gangbang/six-some/6some, spitroasting(?), LOTS of cuddling, both sex/general hcs, bottom reader, AFAB reader. (Let me know if I miss anything!!)

HANK #1 + Loves watching you full of himself, couldn't help but groan once you showed off your tits, showing off his strength, he loves the ride. + Although he always downplays #2's anxious antics of the adventures the group goes on, he secretly admits his own concerns to you. - You'll be caressing the back of his head and rubbing his back as he cuddles into your body, practically being the little spoon as he talks to you about whatever you're comfortable with. + Always trying to impress himself in front of you ever since you first met. When you first appeared in front of the hanks, he literally asked them to tidy themselves up, so he's definitely a pleaser, similar to the rest of them. + During sex, he loves cuddling in any form. He gropes your chest while he's pressed close against you in missionary, kneading your thighs, and any chub/curves you have to your skin are a must. He loves expressing his admiration for your body. - DEFINITELY gives the sweetest massages to you and the others. He can pop muscles with ease, especially your shoulders.

HANK #2 + He loves your pretty moans, he's getting very vocal beneath you, loves being sensual, going on a sweet ride. + ALWAYS asks if something is okay while being together, during sex, or not. He never wants to go against any of your wishes. + Detailed plans if you were to go on a date alone. Would get help from Mitchell for the best tasting restaurants to please you the best. + Caressing you is a must; pleasing you with just simple holding will be more than satisfactory for him.

HANK #3 + Showing off his stamina, inspiring you to ride with dirty talk, going to town, finally got in your pants. + I feel like he has a lower sex drive for someone whose dirty talk comes from the deepest part of his heart, but his drive is still just a tad bit higher than the other Hanks. - EVERY word from him is something he means, even promises, especially if it’s dirty talk. He doesn't just say things for nothing. - He can probably last two to three rounds, but only if you are willing. + When touching you, he loves a more sensual touch than rough. Although he speaks dirty, caressing your face and thighs is something he loves to do. + Although he shows his soft side more with you, even with dirty talk, he does have a freakier side, of course. Some kinks, such as light bondage and edging, really spurs him on, but he will always be sure to discuss those with you. + The only Hank who wouldn’t mind quickies. Blowjobs, handjobs, getting the chance to eat you out briefly are all on the table. The others prefer to take their time with you, as does three, but he wouldn’t mind a quick sesh to get some steam off.

HANK #4 + Fucking up into you, loves watching you squirm, can't get over how pretty you are, cant help but stare. + He has come up to you before asking to toy with his hair, to which you happily complied. He’d let you do anything to his semi-long locks, small braids, sweet massages to his scalp, or just allow his head to rest between your thighs as you both snoozed off during the day. + He and #3 aren't on the same level of horniness, but #4 still has his kinks. If you were to pull his hair, he would let out the filthiest groan in response; he'd probably tug your's if you'd beg him to. + He's only a little timid during intercourse, usually burying his head in the crook of your neck while he groans softly, kissing your skin. If you were to pull his hair to force him to look at you, it would be the icing on the cake.

HANK #5 + Earning the prettiest cries out of him, filling you with all he can, dumping inside of you, hand holding melts his heart. + Hank's underlying baby fever was already on his mind before you two had properly met face to face, but it immediately worsened the moment you spoke to him. + To see how sweet of a person you were, energetic, kind, thoughtful, gave him hope for a child of his own, even more than what the other Hanks have given him. + DEFINITELY was afraid of telling you about his dream of having a child. He would never keep it a secret intentionally, but had delayed his hopeful plan to try with you. He wanted the time to be special too, him and the rest of the Hanks working to please you while he paints your inner walls white. + Absolutely loves when you leg lock him during sex. The feeling of your legs reeling him in closer to you is something that easily makes his eyes roll back in bliss.

ALL THE HANKS!! (Bonus) + Some of the Hanks grow a bit tired after a round so they just sit and watch the show, group bonding sesh!! + They're all loving on you even in the smallest expressions. Hand holding, the biggest hugs and cuddles whenever you please, they all rush to you if you ever need anything they can help you with. This is the first time they've actually grown intimate with another, so being able to be in your presence and touch you after many years is something they wouldn't want to let go of. + They all use pet names. “Sweet-thing, hun, babe, doll,” they’re all in the book if they sound charming enough. + They all want to make sure everything is smooth between you all, making sure you're okay with certain stunts they may do, having intercourse with more than one of them, and so on. - Your comfort is their top priority, as they prioritize it while they were partnered with Red Bowl and even after. + All hanks are simply energetic, golden retrievers just running around you 24/7 that find comfort with you at the end of the day, someone they all love to collectively cuddle with. +They’re all very light during sex, jokes, and their slang being used left and right, but they do know when to keep things on a more serious level if they get the hint. - Silly things such as “dibs/shotgun picks” are some sweet competition they’ll play with, getting to make you cum first, but obviously prioritizing your comfort and pleasure without getting too deep into the fighting. - THEY ALWAYS SHARE. You all love eachother and their bond is strong, they would never have the ill intent to "hog" you whatsoever. + They’ll do silly things to get your attention, even stunts that may be even more harmful than the last (of course, they know their own limits). You’ll bandage all of them up like a mother would to her child with a paper cut as they look at you with pouting eyes.  + Always keeping an eye out for each other. You can all practically sense SOME issues from miles away. Dehydration? Water will be left on your bedside for when you wake up from naps. Any of you feeling tired or in the dumps? Group movie with grub, cuddles, and fluffy blankets will be quick to be scheduled. Also, stuff such as important dates, your menstrual cycle, and more are jotted down mentally, but they have to remind each other of things. They tend to be forgetful…

[shotmrmiller]

the room smells of hay and salt as the sun leaks in through the slats of the blinds, his hands— earth and wood— are everywhere, one curved against the cage of you, the other hooked under your knee, keeping you spread even as you tremble. sweat still clings to him from the day's work, sunburnt skin hot against yours as he lines himself up.

Simon doesn't hurry. he never does. he works you like he's breaking in stubborn leather— testing the give, feeling for the tear.

the first push makes you seize, lungs caught, the thickness of him demanding space you don't have. the burn rips through you, making your fingers claw at the quilt, making you gasp and tighten. the roll of his hips is slow but inexorable, like he's breaking in new ground.

again.

"always a stubborn little fit," he drawls against your ear, the lilt in his voice thick with heat and amusement. "easy now. all this squirmin', actin' like you don't know how this goes."

he feels impossibly large, every push forcing you wider, every inch of him grinding deeper, and there's a sharp pinch low in your belly when he sinks to the root. your thighs burn from the effort of opening around him, trembling with the strain of bracing against the sheer width of his hips. the sting pulls tears into the corners of your eyes, but Simon doesn't pause, doesn't let you hide from the stretch.

when your legs try to close, he tuts softly and forces your knee higher. the hand on your ribs presses in, firm. "quit your fightin'. open up 'nd let me in proper."

Simon groans into your skin, a rough, satisfied sound that vibrates through his chest and into yours when he feeds you the last devastating inch. "look at you, clamped down on me like a fist, shakin' like a foal on new legs." he pushes in deeper still, his thumb brushing up and down like he's soothing a skittish animal.

"breathe," he murmurs. "in when i push—" he slides out a little, then back in, "— out when i pull."

you suck in a shaky breath, chest straining against the weight of his hand, and he gives another thrust, feeling the ache bloom sharp and hot. "there she goes," he croons. "just takes a bit o' patience, doesn't it?"

he matches your tiny movements, coaxing them into his own pace: breathe, take, open. the sting starts to melt. turning sharp into molten, heavy ache that shoots up your spine like liquid fire, feeling it race along each rib he's holding, crawling into the base of your skull, working its way into the marrow of you.

when he finally pulls back to look at you, his eyes flitter with feral satisfaction, no softness, no apology. just the dangerous pride of a man who has fit you to himself like a weapon to a holster.

(and when he finishes, it's with a sigh, like a man who's tilled the earth and knows it'll bear fruit.)

[oldpaintings]

The Duel and The Reconciliation, 1884 by Émile-Antoine Bayard (French, 1837–1891) 

[learntmyspots]

Photo credit to @glowstickblood

[strange-aeons]

Oh my god

[cruel-hiraeth]

you’re a vampling, getting accustomed to the extreme lifestyle changes that your newfound condition requires. it’s both physically and emotionally agonizing, and even worse, your cravings are incessant; it’s like you’re experiencing the withdrawal symptoms of a drug you’ve never taken.

your friend is the only person who knows your secret—they’re the one who turned you, after all. and they have all the knowledge and resources that you’re in dire need of…but they won’t simply give it to you for free. so, what’s the catch?

you have to do sexual favors for them—starting now.

[cruel-hiraeth]

it’s humiliating, groveling at the feet of your supposed best friend.

the cool, midnight air licks up your bare skin, raising gooseflesh in its wake. you do your best to scowl at the man looming above you—fully clothed, claret eyes glowing in the pitch and fixated on your poor, shivering form—but you know you look pathetic. his derisive chuckle confirms your suspicions.

“good pets don’t frown at their master,” he chides, tone dripping with faux-sympathy. “but you look so adorably pathetic that i’ll let this transgression slip.”

hot tears of frustration sting down your cheeks as you whisper the phrase that is carved into your brain, “t-thank you, master.”

he hums his approval before taking a step closer to you, his left leather boot kissing your soft inner thigh. you wince at the chilly contact and the implication it holds; your eyes nervously dart between his foot and his face, a silent plea in your frantic expression.

“you know what to do, sweetling,” he coos, wedging the toe of his shoe closer to your core. “it’s been a few days since you’ve fed; you must be delirious with hunger. i’m impressed that you’ve held out for this long.”

the bastard is right, of course. you haven’t tasted blood in nearly a week on account of your “misbehavior.” and now, you’re starving. the hallucinations only cease when he’s around, and you’ve never been so physically weak before—not even when you were human. your mind is so clouded by hunger that you would do just about anything to gulp down a mouthful of warm, wet ichor.

drool trickles out of your parted lips. wordlessly, you spread your legs and mount the boot of your friend; your tormentor; your master; your savior.

if you still believed in the gods, you would pray for their mercy.

[xxsycamore]

Do tease them for being cute with Harrison Gray(ikevil). That man is a tease and I love it.

#147 [🥺] 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎...

HARRISON:

"No, you're the cute one."

You blink, not expecting for your teasing remark to be refuted so quickly. Isn't he supposed to at least feel a little flustered?

With the growing need to oppose him, you repeat yourself with a stern tone.

"Nu-huh. You're cuter."

So is he accepting that he's at least a little bit cute then? Surely he sees why you'd tease him!! He's sitting here on the table next to you, scrapping the last bits of his strawberry yoghurt with his spoon like his life depends on it. It's not the same as his favorite strawberry milk, but it seems to hit the spot if he's that desperate for every last bit of it... Seeing him do it with the same nonchalant look on his face as always, you couldn't help calling him cute...

You sigh, accepting defeat. He's always the teaser and never the teasee.

Then you look at him again and he's bringing the yoghurt cup to his mouth to lick the rim of it. If anything, the sight makes YOU flustered now! He sure has a long tongue.

There's a haughty look on his face when he holds your gaze, but then he removes the cup. And there's a strawberry yoghurt moustache on his smirking lips, with him being utterly unaware of it.

You burst into laugher and it takes Harrison some time to realize why, before he finally takes a handkerchief and brings it to his mouth. But he isn't quite able to wipe the blush off his face, no matter how hard he tries...

∎ (REQUESTS CLOSED) Steal My Heart!! - xxsycamore’s 1500 followers celebration event | 💌 event masterlist

[faerieyue]

William Rex ♡ Pirates of the Villains

╰⟢ This is a fixed machine translation. Creative liberties are taken, but do expect errors and translation inaccuracy. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated but, by any means, do not use and repost these elsewhere or claim them as your own.

Special thank you to @judesmoonbeauty for sending me William's story of the event!

William’s Voice: Ah, I see it. Full speed ahead—that ship over there is our next target. 

Lured in by the sing-song voice, I peek out the cabin window at the deck.

(As I thought, that person is...)

Even a town girl like me recognise those blood-red eyes and silver hair.

Unpredictable and vicious, he struck down ships on a whim and left them drenched in blood—making him the most feared pirate in town.

That person is William Rex.

William: ……Hmm?

(Ah—our eyes met)

William: Why don’t you come out to the deck, curious lady?

With trembling fingers, I opened the cabin door and nervously stepped out before him.

William: Come to think of it, I haven’t gotten to know you. What’s your name, milady?

Kate: I’m Kate... um, why have you captured me?

William: Me? Captured you? Ahaha! You are mistaken.

William: It was you who came flying into my arms. Have you already forgotten?

———

It all happened last night.

Right in a back alley, I found him covered in blood.

When I slipped on the stairs—the next thing I knew, I was on this ship.

———

Kate: I just… took the wrong step

William: …Is that so?

Kate: Could you please send me back to town?

William: Is that really what you desire, little Robin?

Kate: What…?

His question stirred something deep within me—And at that moment,

A thunderous roar echoed, and I turned to see a gaping hole in the “target’s” ship, which had suddenly appeared at our side.

In the blink of an eye, sailors dressed in black took advantage of the chaos and stormed the enemy ship.

William: Shall we go?

Kate: Huh—?!

William: Your hand, milady.

William sent a wooden plank flying with one swift kick, turning it into a makeshift bridge.

He took my hand, wrapped his arm around my waist, and gracefully led me towards the enemy ship.

William: Have you ever been out on the sea before?

Kate: N-No, I haven’t… 

I reflexively held onto his hand tightly as the water glimmered below the wooden plank.

William: Try lifting your head, Kate.

(There's no way I can do that in a situation like this—)

Just as that thought crossed my mind, I looked up—and the sea breeze swept through, gently brushing my hair.

Kate: ……

A sense of freedom washed over me unlike anything I’d ever felt before.

It’s as if this moment has been waiting for me all along.

William: You seem to be enjoying the thrill, little Robin.

William: You’re flying right into the bloody arms of a pirate, thrilled by a place where one misstep could mean death.

As his crimson fingertips brushed my cheek, a shiver ran deep through my throat.

(I want to say no… but why won't the words leave my mouth?)

William: Come, Kate.

William: Allow me to show you what you’ve been longing to see.

—————

William: Do not move. Kneel right where you are and keep your mouths shut.

At his command, the enemy crew fell to their knees as if worshipping a king.

After leaving me in the care of a man with salt-and-pepper hair, William vanished into the cabin in high spirits. 

The actual term was "an elderly gentleman with romance gray hair." But assuming this is who I think it is, I will follow EN's localisation of the description.

And then—the underlying truth emerged from beneath the ship.

Kate: So these people are…?

Salt and Pepper Man: Those forcibly taken from their homeland—in other words, the enslaved.

Salt and Pepper Man: My master brings ruin to any pirate who dares to trample on people's freedom in these seas.

Salt and Pepper Man: He targets slave ships and merchant vessels involved in human trafficking.

William: Off with his head—let your blood be known that another trace of evil has been erased in these seas.

(Deep down, I knew all along.)

When I saw him in the harbour, stained with blood, the man who had been killed was a notorious villain in town.

(Everyone suffered, yet no one could stand up to them… not even me.)

Sorrows that cannot fade and evil left uncondemned—there is too much of it in this world.

(And that is why—he conquers evil with evil.)

(The moment I met him, it wasn’t fear that made me lose my footing on the stairs.)

(It’s because I took the leap)

——Straight to him.

William: Now, the freedom is yours—whether you return to town, or step into these bloodstained seas.

(I can’t help but be drawn to him.)

(To him—to the world he lives in.)

Kate: Please… take me with you. To the world you live in.

William: Ah… with pleasure.

And so, I chose the path that led me to be captured by the pirates. And then—

———

Kate: There’s a navy ship at 10 o’clock. Will, what shall we do?

William: I have no intention of engaging in a head-on battle.

William: After all, the pirate they’re after is lost in admiration of his treasure.

How the little robin soared freely and became the pirate William’s beloved treasure…

Is a tale for another time.

Fin.

TL Notes (Ramblings)

After leaving me in the care of a man with salt-and-pepper hair, William vanished into the cabin in high spirits. 

As I said earlier, the actual term was "an elderly gentleman with romance gray hair." I immediately thought of Ethan (William's butler), but since his name was never mentioned in the story, I can only assume. At the same time, I don't think William would leave Kate like that to his crew unless he really trusted them—hence, Ethan, who EN localised as a man with salt-and-pepper hair (Will Ch 8).

William: Off with his head—let your blood be known that another trace of evil has been erased in these seas.

Intentional Alice in Wonderland reference since this is William yk... I'd actually go mad if I wrote "cut off his head" while knowing what his curse is, lmao

William: I have no intention of engaging in a head-on battle. William: After all, the pirate they’re after is lost in admiration of his treasure.

OKAY SO. It took me a bit at first to understand what's going on here since it didn't hit me that I have to look at the context to understand that Will was referring to Kate here... Had to reread the jp dictionary and all that jazz and smack my head on the table.

Anyway, thank you for reading my nonsense! ...I will find a hole to bury myself into now that I'm done

[driftd0ll]

Extreme Marathon Sex with The hanks once they’re all realized??? 🥵🥵I mean how else is Hank 5 gonna achieve his goal if they don’t?

The homeowners gotta be careful because if she doesn’t put her foot down then they’ll make it a weekly thing until she’s DEFINITELY pregnant

poor homeowner😭😭😭 during the marathon, on the very little chance they all get tuckered out there’s always someone there for you to cockwarm, plugging in all their cum but trust that the moment one of them can, your break is over and it’s back to fucking

[saintshigaraki]

in my mind palace i’m giving ur fave 2d man erectile dysfunction