08/19/24; 04:41pm

submissive dally or darry please i beg

Brat

Synopsis: Submissive! Dally gets overstimulated and edged as a punishment for his bratty behavior.

Tags/cws: Handjobs, edging, overstimulation, bratty Dally, oral, consent has been given (consent is sexy), GN! reader, mentions of safeword (he doesn't safeword), very short read.

"Fu-Fuuck you!" He moaned as he tried to squirm away from your hand. "Let me cum you bi-Bitch!"

"Dallas, we talked about this. You want to cum, you ask for it nicely." You whispered as you circled his tip again. "You going to ask nicely you brat?"

"No! God fucking damnit, let me cum!" He hissed as he tried to grab your wrist only to have his hand slapped away and all his stimulation stopping. "No... No! Let me cum, Pleasee!"

"Begging already? I thought that would take longer..." You mused as you leaned down and gently sucked on the tip of his dick. Dally squirmed and reached for your hair only to have his hand smacked again, his gaze met with a warning glare.

"Fuck.... Fuuuck!" He moaned loudly as he came, his body thrashing about as he finally got his sweet release... Only... It didn't stop. Dally's eyes opened when he didn't feel you stop. "What the fuck are you doi-doing?" He snapped, staring down at you while trying to push your head off.

"You wanted to cum, so you'll cum. Safeword?" A smile rested on your lips as you watched his face, still stroking him.

"Crayon." He muttered as his head fell back down onto his pillow, his body tensing as he got close to another orgasm. "Good boy..."

Based off DM request from @msvirgoflower because this is a total rom-com cliche 😆

Castlevania boys [Drac, Alucard, Isaac, Hector, and Trevor] to how they would react if their s/o came back home after drinking heavily with friends and while trying to help them to bed when they get home their drunk s/o slaps them and is all like "Whoa back the f#$% up! I am off the market- I gots me a man and he'll kick your ass!

Prompts HERE

VALENTINES LIST

♡ [ trope ] to do cliche things with them, just because

Dracula

A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest as you slur out your words but he’ll indulge in the inebriation just for a moment.

“Oh you do? Well I imagine they would be protective over one such as lovely as yourself”

Trevor

Chances are he’s a bit drunk but nowhere near as buzzed as you

He’ll be slightly pouty and whiny, clinging onto you tightly, saying stuff like “yeah! and it’s me! Unless there’s someone else eyeing you…!”

Alucard

Maybe slightly annoyed but also stifling his laugh as you speak your mind to him

“Oh you do? They just be worried sick if you’re out here by yourself. Come, I’ll safely return you to them.”

Isaac

Calm demeanor but also with an exasperated look 😑 he tries to keep you steady

“And your lover would very much care if you were away from a crowd of rubes. Here, take my arm.”

Hector

It’s one of the rare occasions you get a genuine smile and laugh from him as he’s holding onto your shoulder

“Yes, love, and it’s me, hurry before you catch a cold or attract more attention.”

dreaming about caleb jerking off

a/n :: inspired by this lovely video :3

his hand is moving impossibly fast under the blanket he has draped over his lower half of his body . his hips have a mind of their own , jumping and thrusting into his hand and then back down into the mattress , the lack of restraint he has over his own body prominent . having no clue where to put his other hand , it'd be placed firmly over his eyes to cover how shameful his movements are . his mind would be plagued with the thought of your mouth on his cock instead of his hand , practically forcing the cum out of his body way faster than he intended . his moans are incredibly loud and accompanied by little whimpers once he cums , not knowing how else to get the pleasure out of his system . "ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck," said all in one breath as he orgasms so fucking hard he becomes lightheaded and sees stars .

CONFESSION.

Synopsis: You find Saiki's instagram account thinking it to be an abandoned one as it is completely inactive so you confess to it.

A Saiki Kusuo x F!Reader crack SMAU, that's mixed in with the normal fanfic format.

1. 2. You are on part 3. 4. TBA...

A/N:

‘Yare yare' means Saikis or readers thoughts (in italics)

'Yare yare' means other characters' thoughts.

'Yare yare' means Saiki is talking telepathically

Seems like the gods have finally decided to smile upon you, it’s one lucky thing after another. First, you’re in the same group as him, and then now you’ve been both assigned to make the graves!?

“So..” You start, looking at him for any sign of reciprocity for conversation. There’s none, oh well. “How should we do this?” You ask, and he just stares at you.

“Uhm..” You stare back and his face gets progressively more confused.

…

“Well, uhm..” Taking your eyes away from him and onto the materials laid out on the floor you start thinking of what you could do.

“We can make a mix of curved and rectangular graves.” You say, not waiting for his approval— he probably won’t answer again— as you grab the pencil to sketch the grave on the cardboard.

You feel his eyes on you the whole time, if he had super laser eyes there’d probably be a hole in the back of your head.

Shifting uncomfortably under his eyes you stop sketching for a little bit, “Aren’t you going to help..?” Wordlessly, he starts sketching by your side too.

Is he just not going to talk to you the whole time?

After a few minutes, Chiyo checks up on the both of you. “How are things going with you guys?”

Before you could even say anything she was already nodding and saying good job on the progress, like she was holding some kind of conversation with Saiki.

The fuck?

Are you missing a memo here or does Saiki and Chiyo have some kind of deeper understanding?

Are they, like, together..?

—

The walk back home is filled with thoughts about Saiki’s and Chiyo’s relationship, you can’t help but think that they’re together.

‘If they’re together, how come Chiyo didn’t pair themselves together??’ You ask yourself, “Maybe they’re keeping it lowkey.’ Another thought supplied.

With a sigh you decide to take a left instead of your usual right to go back home, maybe a treat could get you out of your own head. ‘Café Mami it is.’

Taglist: @jaiistg @greeningout @mit-suri @h0rnyp0t @yuukiririix @2dmenfr @naevisringring @roseberry-jam @syqashiee

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ how they kiss you — love and deepspace

including. zayne, xavier, rafayel, sylus, caleb

genre. fem! reader, making out (quite sexual), body fondling, established relationship

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ zayne

there's always a subtle silence before you happen to feel it— you know? the way zayne watches your lips like he's studying anatomy again— not clinically, silly! but reverently, like he might carve the shape of your mouth into his memory.

so precise, so devout, it borders on madness. soaked in tension and lust— quite obsessive, don't you agree? almost grotesque in how deeply he desired you.

the man leans in, close enough for his breath to ghost over your skin as he abruptly stops, catching himself in the same course of action he tends to take, every damn time.

zayne held himself back like the act of restraint was the only thing keeping him from collapsing into you completely, succumbing to those pretty, warm lips of yours as something deep inside of him broke that night.

he's going deeper before pressing into your lips at last— his psyche, his shadows, the way the hunger on his tongue felt different than anyone else's as he cups your face like he's afraid of shattering it, mouth crashing into yours.

not messy, not wild, instead, devastatingly precise— and every stroke of his warm muscle felt like it's been rehearsed in secret, fantasized about in sinful dreams as his hand slides down your throat, thumb resting on your pulse like he's checking it— not for medical reasons, but for control.

the kiss deepens and sharpens at the edges of each lap and suckle of your bottom lip between his teeth as his body presses you to the nearest surface with a force just edging on subtle bruising— and when your fingers suddenly thread into his hair to taste him more, when you pull him harder into you— he groans low, a sound rattling from somewhere hidden and forbidden, yes, like something sacred within him was being exposed.

and well, in that exposé, zayne finds a terrible, exquisite relief in each slip and slide of your tongues intertwining, bodies stroking each other as though this was the only way he's ever known how to feel alive.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ xavier

xavier touches you first— although not to grope, yet to ground himself with his palm on your shaking hip while his other hand brushes against your soft cheek, and that look on him which was revealed next haunted you— like he's seeing a future he doesn’t believe he deserves.

slow, searching, his lips coax across your bottom lip, the tension behind each suckle on it unbearable as he continues to trace yours like he's adamant to make it everlasting. your boyfriend grunted like restraint stretched thin inside his frame, like one more kiss might tip him over the edge into something more, well, feral? ugh, but he holds himself back of course. 

yet just barely.

those kisses you shared weren't just random pecks here and there, they felt like confessions, truly, like a collapse of two loving hearts forming a dance of possession— each movement sharpening to the truth of what this relationship meant to him, all of it rooted in desire and lust, shadowed with emotional gravity and physical intensity of hands squeezing your flesh.

and you felt it, all of it— the tremble in his fingers, the quiet threat of his teeth brushing just behind every soft tug at your lip, as though even the smallest motion could unravel him further.

you arch into him, obediently feeling the low, guttural sound that escaped his throat— a half moan, a sound so faint it could almost be mistaken for a prayer, whispered to no god at all, but to the madness he cannot escape.

your lips stay close at all times, breathing hard against each other with foreheads pressed together, "i don't want to hurt you," his voice, thick with restraint, was taken hostage somewhere between a confession and collapse, yet his hands disobey him at last— sliding beneath your shirt with a quiet desperation, mapping the ridges of your shape like he's meant to be.

truly, if you let him keep going with those addictive kisses, he'll worship you until he forgets where he ends and you begin.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ rafayel

hands in your hair, rafayel's lips were already open and panting, breath warm and uneven and jaw slacked, well, it's all then and there with no waiting, no warning— just the sudden, dizzying sensation of being devoured by the man you loved.

his tongue was everywhere on you— teasing you, curling and invading your mouth as he moans into your parted lips, pulling your lower lip between his teeth and laughing when you gasp out in slight shock— quite literally, the man loved to push you over the edge, he lived for the sweet, little responses you'd grace him with in return.

from being tangled in your hair to squeezed within your clothes, rafayel slides down further to cup your ass, squeezing the addicting mounds of flesh as you wince into his hold, "ugh, you taste like a bad decision," he smirks, whispering against your mouth, yet already leaning right back in.

before you could even response to him he kisses you harder, deeper, lapping and lapping and lapping his hefty tongue against your own as your hips were grinding against him just enough to make the room spin and your eyes roll back into your skull.

without a doubt, every second with him felt like falling and screaming and shattering all at once— fast at that, disoriented and inevitable when all you needed is for him to imbed you with his scent until there was nothing left of you to claim.

it's there when you realize that rafayel tasted like the sweetest sin that has ever existed, not kissing to seduce, but to ruin— and make sure you’re begging him for it.

for a slight second he pulls away just enough to look at your lips and what he's done to them— and would you look at that? your boyfriend adored the lusting sight of swollen, glistening, needy lips parted and puffed up, "baby, you're gonna be the death of me."

rafayel says it like it's a promise.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ sylus

you can’t call this a kiss— no, not with the way sylus's mouth drags across yours like he's already lost the war against wanting you.

to call it a claim would be closer though, but even that sounds too civilized. there is nothing civil about the way his tongue parts your lips— wet, scorching, impatient, nothing gentle in the sting of his teeth catching your mouth, just enough to pull breath from your lungs and copper to your tongue.

he tastes it— even better, tastes you— and it makes something violent bloom in his chest as he growls out embarrassingly loud, not like an animal but like a man who's tasted divinity and was furious that he ever lived without it in the past.

his grip on your hips tighten as he drags you against him, feeling you up like shame didn't exist in his vocabulary, in fact, it quite literally didn't.

not a flicker of hesitation, not even the illusion of pause— only the dreadful inevitability of a hunger given form around his tongue, his lips moving with the certainty of something long premeditated, as if his body had been waiting its entire life for permission to devour you.

he doesn’t ask for allowance to be rougher, sylus knows he doesn’t need to.

his mouth licks into yours with a frenzied rhythm, like he’s trying to bury every unspeakable thought inside your throat as every shove, every bitten gasp, every ragged exhale that leaves his body was a hidden confession disguised as a dominating sin.

the man was not delicate. he was not kind. but he was true.

terrifyingly, brutally true.

furthermore, his tongue traces a wet line from your bottom lip, creeping toward your jaw, then dipping lower to your neck— infused with desperation and something dangerously raw.

his teeth find your skin at last— not out of need, no, but out of some dark impulse deep hidden beneath his heart, as if marking you up was the only act left that can prove he existed, that he's here, tethered to a body that's already unraveling.

"you have no fucking idea," he pants, his breath a jagged rhythm against your skin as if the act of inhaling and exhaling was the only thing that kept him secured— each exhalation a tremor, a faint admission of the madness threatening to spill over.

he smirks, "what you’ve done to me."

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ caleb

in the language of a yearning man, caleb doesn't speak— instead the silence clung to him like a second skin, as if words would shatter whatever fragile shell still held him upright.

as an alternative, his hands found your waist as he exhales deeply from his mouth when he feels your body— yet tentative at first, but with a pressure that deepens and sharpens, afterwards he leans in to kiss you.

not in a haste, no, not like a man chasing basic pleasure, but like a man aching with his mouth against yours— slow, burning, unbearably tender.

his lips taste of quiet torment, of years spent repressing the thing now trembling beneath his touch and the longer it goes on, the more unraveled he becomes— now here, his breath falters, his jaw tenses and when his tongue brushes up against your own needy one, it is with such aching slowness that it felt like a sin.

he grips your jaw softly, almost fearfully, as if he cannot believe you're letting him touch you as his other hand slips beneath the waistband of your pants— fingertips skimming over your bare flesh and squeezing at it like he's utterly worshipping you.

more and more, you want more but the kiss breaks open, becoming wet and open-mouthed, desperate and messy and ugh— caleb cannot stop and neither can you, even less when you whine at him all quietly and overstimulated, the kind of sound which made a man fall on his knees.

okay, he should pull away, correct? uh, before you'll both be unable to stop and take it further, you see the truth in that?

well, he doesn’t.

and neither do you.

©2025 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

"Open that pretty mouth wider," Sylus growls, his massive hand encircling your throat as he guides his cock past your lips. Your jaw aches trying to accommodate him, but the praise in his eyes makes you do as you’re told.

"This is what happens when you try to take control, handcuffing me to the bed… That was quite bold of you the other night." His hand begins to slowly crush your windpipe as he slides his cock deeper down your spasming throat. Your pitiful struggles only make his vermilion eyes darken with such cruel delight. This is what you get for thinking you could chain him down, it was rather cute of you though.

He starts slow, letting you adjust to the feeling of him stretching your throat. But patience isn't his strong suit, not when you’re on your knees like this.

You try to squirm away but his iron grip holds you in place as he starts to bottom out your throat, using you like some personal pocket pussy. Each thrust causing your beautiful tits to bounce violently, drawing a low chuckle from his chest.

Your vision starts to darken as he cuts off your air completely, reduced to nothing but a warm hole for his pleasure.

"Remember this next time you think about being clever with those handcuffs," he taunts, his hips jackhammering your face as consciousness starts to fade.

"Don’t worry kitten,” he purrs, feeling his cock distend your throat beneath his fingers, "I won't let you pass out… at least not yet."

A choked whimper is your only reply, before you start to taste the salty pre-cum pooling in the back of your throat.

"Take all of me," Sylus snarls, his hands tightening as he pushes his entire length down your throat, your muscles clenching violently, squeezing him so deliciously that he almost loses control. Shit. Nevermind, he can't stop himself now, not when you feel this good.

Sylus' head tilts back, the first rope of cum shooting into your stomach while you try not to choke, "That's it, just like that."

Your face is red, tears and saliva streaming down your chin as he finally pulls from your abused throat. He admires his handiwork with a cocky grin, watching you try to gasp for air.

"Such a good girl for me," he coos, running a finger across your bruised lips.

You try to speak, but he shoves his finger into your mouth, coating it with spit before pushing it down onto your tongue, "Actions speak louder than words. Show me just how sorry you are, I'll allow it."

hot for teacher

pairing: shouta aizawa x f!reader summary: You’re not expecting your day to fall to pieces at 8:21 a.m., but life hasn’t really been going your way lately. A string of lackluster dates, followed by two dead vibrators (with missing cords!), and the only outlet left for your mounting sexual frustration—the smut blog you diligently update—has been discovered by the one person you never wanted to find it: fellow teacher Shouta Aizawa. Who might just be the inspiration behind most of the fantasies you post about. content warnings: coworkers-to-lovers, mutual pining, idiots in love, forced proximity, there was only bed trope, explicit smut, phone sex, bondage, impact play, degradation, use of slut and whore, D/s, subspace, aftercare

chapters: one two three four five epilogue

chapter one: live 3/31 at 7 p.m. PST

Ow, what the hell?

Source

𝜗𝜚 ; welcome to the bar

who do we serve here ? — anyone who seeks escapism is welcome at bar lupin. would you like your drink strong and bitter, or disgustingly sweet and light?

 what is this place ? — formiito's very own establishment of disillusioned lovers and poets. feel free to look around.

 my name is formiito, the writer behind these fanfics. bar lupin themed blog, though not solely restricted to bungou stray dogs. i take requests for resident evil, bg3 and may yap about other fandoms too.

❝ — to the stray dogs! ❞

i. MASTERLIST   ii. RULES

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

★﹐冬のはなし．﹗﹑ KUSUO SAIKI

ミ★ ; "I rejected her." he said, his voice remaining stoic, "Why?" was all you said, tears welling up in your eyes, "Because I like you"

warnings. angst. happy ending. second lead!teruhashi. implied unrequited love. grammar errors

"Saiki, I really really like you." the blue haired girl said, waiting for him to answer the two words she wanted to hear him say; "oh wow." but that never came, not from him but from someone outside the classroom door, it was a surprise they didn't hear her, she assumed they focused on each other. She left before the pink haired boy said anything, going to text him that their cafe hangout would be canceled.

'smth came up sai, i'm srry." — seen

Right. You were guessing that kusuo and kokomis were hanging out at this point, it was no surprise that they would end up together, he'll even some of kokomis crazy fans thought so. Those two were meant to be soulmates, together in every universe.

While you were stuck as the second choice, like always. You wondered if you were to confess before the blue haired angel would everything stay the same? That instead of teruhashi confessing to saiki in that classroom, it was you? That he said yes to you, and not her. You hated how selfish you were thinking, though you were glad you and saiki gotten those matching rings that would stop his psychic abilities, he wouldn't know what you were thinking of.

It was late, and here you were still crying over the pink haired boy, something you hated. You looked at the ceiling, and starting thinking of every universe there was where the two of them would end up together. That's when you heard a notification from your phone;

You checked your phone to ignore the feeling of heartbreak. That was the plan until you saw a message pop up;

"Meet me at the park in 5" — sent from 'ku⁉️'

It was 3 AM at the moment, what would he want this late at—

'I'm not taking a no as an answer" — sent at 3:02 AM

Okay then, you were heading to the park, great.

Once you got ready, you headed out your window, making sure it was quiet so no one could hear you, after that you started head to the park where the pink boy would wait for you. That same feeling of heartbreak not leaving you as you headed to the place.

By the time you get there he was by the swings, swinging back and forth, you went up to him and smiled, he looked up at you and stood up, "We need to talk," he said, that same stoic face not leaving him, "About...?" "Teruhashi confessed that she liked me," "oh. congratulations on getting with her! you two were practically made for each oth—" "I didn't say yes, I rejected her."

your didn't know wether to feel bad for her or not, "Why?" "Because I don't like her" "okay... why are you telling me this?" "Because I saw you outside the classroom door," that's why, maybe he doesn't want you to get the wrong idea about because you always joke about that to him, "Right, Is tha—" "I also wanted to let you know that..." "That..?" "I know you like me, I knew from the start" ah. you thought you were being discreet about it, guess not. "Look. give me time, I'm trying to get over you. Just please— give me more time to get over you" you look up at him and tears begin to show up in your eyes.

The link haired boy looked at you and grabbed you by the cheek, he got near your eyes and wiped the tears that began falling out, "That's not what I meant." "Then what do you mean then?" "I need time to understand what I'm feeling for you, to make sure I'm not lying to you." was all he said, he turned to look the other way, hiding the fact that he's flustered, "And that means..." "It means we could be something more"

And on that night, snow began to fall from the sky on a nice December night.

And Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't a dream.

NAO SPEAKS? i lob my silly little pink haired guy :(