#‘You’re crying right now aren’t you’

[buckys-wintersoldier]

His forever and ever

// Chapter Four //

// Pairing //

→ (Ex-)Boyfriend!Mob!Bucky Barnes x (Ex-)Girlfriend!Reader

// Summary //

→ Steve follows you everywhere, making sure that Bucky can’t get too close to you. But when he has an appointment you tell him that you’re fine. During your work shift you get closer to a man, who asks you out and who wouldn’t say yes to such a nice offer.

// Wordcount //

→ 4.325 Words

// Warnings // Teen

→ feelings, crying, hurt/comfort

// Authors Note //

→ The biggest thank you to the amazing @bucks-babe for proofreading, coming up with more details.

// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //

// Series Masterlist //

<- Chapter Three

Bucky doesn’t stop looking where you’re going, he doesn’t stop to check everyone you could possibly date. But luckily you’re not looking like you’re dating anyone, some flirts at work but nothing more. He still gets jealous when a man flirts with you, but slowly he gets the feeling that you still feel more for him as you try to admit.

Even though he knows where you’re going, who you’re talking to and all that, he doesn’t find a good moment to talk to you. Steve is following you everywhere. He is the only man you’re hanging out with — and Tony — but he always stops Bucky from talking to you.

Steve is pretty overprotective of you but you don’t mind. He is cute when he is clingy and going out with your best friend and his boyfriend is pretty fun. Tony and you are pretty good friends, you’re sharing the same likes when it comes to movies or food. You can dance and jump around the apartment with him and you’re besties when it comes to jokes.

Tony is often at your apartment, and even though you try to convince them to go out they order pizza and spend all night with you in front of the television, eating and watching the most hilarious or horrifying movies you can find. Tony shares his boyfriend gladly with you — with Steve’s princess.

But today Tony is going on a business trip and Steve has an appointment. You needed a while to convince him that you aren’t afraid of Bucky. And that he maybe doesn’t even follow you anymore.

“Stevie, I’m fine! You know I can defend myself, and he won’t hurt me, not when he still loves me,” you told him, laughing softly. Steve nodded, kissing your head and went to the appointment while you got ready for work.

And there you are now laughing with a coworker while both of you prepare drinks and snacks. She just made another joke and you can’t stop laughing about it, trying to get the snacks ready but whenever you look at her you burst out laughing once again.

“You know that wasn’t that funny, right?” She asks, but you shake your head, holding your hand on your belly while you laugh even harder.

“That was way too funny,” you say, shaking your head. You finally manage to prepare the snack properly and take the plate in your one hand and the two dinks in the other. “Open the door for the princess, woman!”

“Everything you ask for,” she chuckles before opening the small door which separates the bar and the lounge. You step out of it, running around and bending over slightly. “Always so bossy.”

With a giggle you make your way through the bar, trying to avoid dancing people so you won’t spill any food or drinks. When you reach the table they thank you and the young man who is sitting next to his friend hands you a little paper smirking at you.

“Call me if you wanna go out with me,” he says, his voice rough but sounding so soft. As much as you try to stop comparing every man with Bucky you do it once again.

While you nod you smile softly, turning around to make your way back to the bar. He is cute, hot too but he isn’t Bucky. His brown hair isn’t looking so fluffy and he doesn’t have that sexy man bun. His voice sounds rough and he can still sound so soft but it’s not the same as when Bucky would be talking to you. And as nice as that guy could be, he wouldn’t be the man you’re craving, he wouldn’t be the one who would own your heart because your heart belongs to someone already.

“There she is, let me open the door for you, princess,” your coworker says and chases you to chuckle. She opens the door for you and you bend over once again, then you place the small paper on the bar and focus on getting more orders ready.

Your coworker has way better things to do than helping you with food and drinks, she grasps the paper and smirks at you then. “Got a number of a boy, huh? Does he look good?”

You roll your eyes, turning toward her and nodding toward the table the two men are sitting. “The brown haired one. Doesn’t look bad at all but going out with him? Not really.”

She nods, but tries to convince you to at least go out on a date with him once. Then you can still decide if you want to date him or not. But as hard as she tries, you just can’t help and think about Bucky.

Whenever he took you out on dates, they were beautiful, you had your own space in the restaurants, you were able to order whatever you wanted to eat and Bucky never complained about any food habits of yours.

And once again you miss him even more, no one can fill the hole he left behind. When they say the wounds will heal — maybe they will but you will always wear the scars on your soul. As much as Bucky hurt you, the feeling you have now is worse. But you can’t just go back to him, you can’t let him hurt you with his promises. And maybe one day the pain will go away and you will be able to love another man.

When your shift ends you change your clothes, and make your way out of the bar. The paper of the man fidgeting between your fingers and you consider whether to call him for a date or not. But maybe he will be all sweet and lovely and you could have some fun with, getting a distraction from Bucky.

You tap his number into your phone, then you call him and luckily you don't have to wait long for him to pick up. “Hey, sweetheart, thought about my offer and go out with me?”

“But you're not getting me into your bed!” You say, sternly before you giggle softly. “Where do we meet?”

“Two streets behind the bar, there is that shop with the best pizza,” he says, describing the way even though you know exactly where the restaurant is. You chuckle slowly before hanging up and making your way to the place he was talking about.

When you arrive there you narrow your eyebrows, the man isn’t nearby yet, maybe he is just busy or already in the restaurant? You turn your head to the side, once again a dark alley and you slowly get the feeling that you and dark alleys have some kind of connection.

It’s not like you’re afraid of them, you were together with the most fearful man in town and he didn’t scare you — at least not often. But you wonder why you always end up in or close to dark alleys, with a shrug you chuckle softly about yourself, looking around to look for the guy who wants to meet there.

A few minutes pass and you watch all the people walking by and some of them are pretty funny to look at — not in a bad way, more in a sweet one. Like the one guy who talked to his dog like it’s a person — he reminded you slightly of Steve who would most definitely do that too.

Your phone vibrates in your hand and you turn around to see the guy's number on your display. You pick up and chuckle softly when you hear his slightly nervous voice coming through the loudspeakers of your phone.

“Hi, I— uhm. I’m waiting in the restaurant already, should have told you. Can you ice the door behind the restaurant? They— I know one and he offered us the perfect place but no one has to know that we just arrived at the restaurant,” he says, chucking softly and you agree.

Your inner voice tells you to run or whatever but not go into the dark alley. The reason he told you wasn't that good actually and you’re not naive but even though you’re sure that he is joking around to tell you later that you believed his joke — you take a step into the dark alley.

The sound of the street turning quiet when you take another few steps into the alley. You sigh softly, making your way through the alley to find the back entrance of the restaurant. Maybe he wasn’t joking and really wants to meet there?

When you take a few more steps a small lamp turns on and you shiver lightly when you see a big frame of a person there. You immediately stop in your tracks, ready to turn away and run but you’re too curious to just turn away before you find out who it is, maybe it’s your date.

Another lamp turns on, just next to the other bit this one is brighter and you gasp when you see who is standing there. It’s definitely not the person you expect.

“James,” you mumble, loud enough for him to hear. He shakes his head, knowing that you use that name only when you’re mad — he doesn’t blame you, you have every right but hearing his name slipping so harshly over your pretty lips makes his heart clench.

“Dragǎ mea,” he says, his voice soft and a soft smirk appears on his lips. How much you missed that, when his nose is scrunching so lightly while the corner of his lips curl up.

Bucky’s hair is tied back into a low bun, his beard short as always but the stubbles you love so much are still there — just long enough to tickle you. But instead of wearing a suit, he wears pants and a hoodie, the one you always wore because it’s just so big and comfortable.

With a hum you want to turn around, not wanting to look into his ocean blue eyes, knowing you would get lost in them. And as much as you missed to just look into his eyes and admire the soft gray, blue colors mixing — you should get lost in them yet. They would only cause the pain in your chest to grow, the empty space where he belongs would be bigger and you would just miss him even more.

“C—can you please listen to me for a moment? Please?” Bucky asks, his voice shaking and you swallow thickly. You haven’t heard his voice shaking often, he used to hide his emotions unless you were alone but there wasn’t a reason for his voice to shake then. “Please, just— just listen. I—I need to tell you because I know now.”

You nod, but you don’t move, just looking at him. He hesitates for a moment, shifting from one foot to the other. The big mobster looks suddenly so small and broken and you feel your heart breaking once again.

You thought he would move on, or just be distracted by his work, but he doesn’t look like that. Dark shadows underneath his eyes, worse than the one you have seen when he has worked all night.

“I’m sorry, I miss you so much. I know I messed up, but please, doll, I can’t be without you. Everything feels so much harder, everything is dark, empty and I miss your laugh, your voice, your soft touch, everything — I just miss you,” he says, tears building up in his eyes and he walks closer to you, slowly. When he is sure you’re not taking a step backward he takes another one closer to you.

He still leaves a bit of space between the two of you, giving you the chance to move away in case you don’t want him to be that close to you. But you can smell him — even though there is some distance between the two of you. His scent is intoxicating and you relax when you inhale deeply, he still smells so good — musky and light mint — exactly how you love it.

“My heart feels like it’s ripped out, broken into pieces and I feel like I can’t breathe without you. Since you left, it’s so different, but I know— I know that’s all because I gave you the feeling that my work is my priority and that you’re self-evident. But now I know you aren’t. I feel like I understand what you felt and I’m sorry,” he says, quietly and letting his head fall forward, staring at the ground while tears fall down his cheeks.

“Is that all, James?” Your voice is cold and even though you feel like hugging him and telling him that you feel the same you just can’t bring yourself to do that. He said sorry so often but he was still putting his work first and acting like you’re self-evident.

“D—Don’t you feel anything for me anymore?” His eyes widen, tears slipping down his cheeks and you have never seen him that vulnerable. His voice is almost a whimper and shaking when those words leave his lips, afraid of your answer.

He looks so broken and no matter how hurt or mad you are, you don’t like seeing him like that. The love and all the feelings you have for him are still there and even though he was a dick you still love him.

“Listen, James. I love you as much as I did the day I left the mansion. But you hurt me and I can’t act like you didn’t. You can’t come back and demand that—“ you interrupt yourself not exactly knowing what to say.

“I don’t— I get that you’re mad, that you’re hurt and you have every right for that, and I don’t demand or want to sound demanding. Please I just— I just need you back, dragǎ mea. Without you there is no warmth, it’s like the moon without the sun, a forest without trees, a desert without sand, or the ocean without water — without the one thing the other can’t exist and I can’t be without you,” Bucky says, taking another step closer and reaching his big hands out.

He gives you the opportunity to place yours in his but he doesn’t want to force you. You think about his words, he was always good with those — the way he could tell you he loves you in so many ways made the tingling in your stomach grow and it’s exactly what his words are doing this time too.

You hesitate for a moment before you place your hands in Bucky’s. His fingers curl around your smaller hand, his thumbs rubbing over your fingers and the back of your hand.

“I understand that you can’t forgive me just now and I didn’t treat you right. I noticed when I woke up and the other half of the bed was empty, when I waited for you in my office to come and ask me to go out or just have you sit on my lap. Or just when you were stealing my clothes, especially when you came into my office, wearing them — you all looked so adorable in them, just the thought of you wearing what’s mine causes my heart to race. You always know how to calm me down but also to make me smile, no matter how annoying the work was you always had a way to cheer me up and no one can help me calm down like you did. You never were afraid of my anger — unless that one time in the alley for which I’m still really sorry,” Bucky says, inhaling deeply while he thinks about more examples of the things he misses but has still in mind from when you were together. But he just misses everything, even the way you put him into his place when he was stressed, he always adored and still adores you for that.

When every woman would have turned around and left him, you poked your finger into his broad chest and told him in a calm tone that he can’t act like that around you. And he really calmed down, apologized. Bucky placed a lot of kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle. No matter what, you always know how to calm him down and put him into his place, making sure that he knows who he is talking to. And he loves it when you’re all bossy around him, or around others it makes you even cuter and sexier at the same time.

“You— You put me into my place without hesitation, and your bossy side, I just miss that so much. Or when we just cooked together, watched movies or whatever else we did, now it only feels like an empty space in my heart. I messed up and I know that’s too late but can you just think about giving me another chance?” Bucky asks, tears streaming down his cheeks but he doesn’t hide them. Knowing that you would never make jokes about it, he can be himself with you but he can’t hold back the tears anyway. The attempt of doing it when he was working was hard enough but now with you? All his emotions are coming to the surface.

You don’t reply immediately, your eyes locked with his. The blue doesn’t look as shining and glittering as usual. You remove one of your hands out of his and you can see the switch in his expression when you do so. It’s like the last bit of his heart which wasn’t broken does it the moment you let go of one of his hands. Bucky already wants to let go of your other hand to take a step backwards but he freezes in his tracks.

Your soft fingers brush over his cheek, swiping the tears away. But just when you do so there is a new wave of them rolling down his cheeks. Bucky tilts his head and leans into your smooth touch, sighing softly.

“You don’t have to answer, but please just— just think about it. I will do everything you want but please, dragǎ mea, please give me another chance. I won’t hurt you again, I— I love you,” he says, closing his eyes and enjoying the softness of your fingers on his skin.

“So you’re probably my date for tonight, right? You told him to give me his number and arrange that all?” You ask after a few moments, Bucky nods, smirking slightly. His smirk is just so adorable that you could melt, he knows exactly how to get you. “I haven’t eaten all day, so let’s get a table in the restaurant and eat so we can talk about your question.”

Bucky sighs softly, his smirk fading away but inside he dances and jumps around — you don’t want him to fuck off, so maybe he gets another chance? Maybe when he shows you that you’re his priority, that you’re the one he loves.

The two of you make your way to the front entrance and when Bucky asks for a table the waitress leads you to a table in the corner of the restaurant. Bucky doesn't look at her unless he talks to her, other than that his eyes are always on you.

“What do you want to eat, dragǎ mea?” Bucky asks, exactly knowing what you want, he is still giving you the opportunity to decide whatever you want to have. So you tell the waitress what you would like, Bucky does the same and when the waitress walks away he smiles softly at you.

You know that smile, and chuckle softly. Bucky knows exactly what you want to eat and with the smirk he tells you that he would have ordered that for you. But he also respects that you can talk for yourself and make your own decisions. Bucky just likes to know that he still knows you better than everyone else, it makes his heart beat faster and causes a tingling feeling in his lower stomach.

Something you always appreciated about him, he can read you like a book, his eyes are always on you and no other woman gets the sweet looks you get. One look at you and he knows everything you feel, he has the perfect solution for every problem and you just missed his presence. The dates, the smiles, the way he looks at you and only at you.

“Thank you,” you say, smirking softly. “But just because we’re eating here together doesn’t mean that I forgive you that easily, Bucky.”

He nods, sighing softly that you call him ‘Bucky’ again and not ‘James’. As much as he tries to tell himself that you two are just eating and talking — it still feels so familiar and warm that he imagines just for a moment that he didn’t mess things up and that you’re there right now, together and he is ready to ask you to marry him, but it’s just for a moment until the waitress interrupts his thoughts when she brings the food.

“I know, and I don’t want to push you, but I will pay the bill anyway,” he says, softly. The gentleman he always is. Bucky is about to say that he loves to spoil his girl but stops himself when he shoves some food into his mouth.

You two eat in silence for a while before you clear your throat, his eyes focused on you anyway but to make sure you have his full attention. Bucky nods, his ocean blue eyes shining brighter as they did earlier.

“I’m not sure if I can give you another chance just yet, I’m scared that you will hurt me again,” you say, Bucky’s soft smile fades away, he nods his head. His expression is still soft and he doesn’t say anything, letting you finish whatever you want to say. “As much as I love you, I don't want to be the second option. When we came together I was your priority, but then your work was so much more important than me.”

Bucky’s eyes flicker, his expression turns from the soft into a sad one and he nods, processing the things you just said. And once again he realises that he just fucked up. “I—I know. And I don’t— I mean.”

He shakes his head, placing the fork on the table and runs both of his hands through his soft, long hair, inhaling deeply while he thinks about the right words to tell you how he feels. Then he exhales and places his hands on the table, his sleeves are rolled up and revealing his thick, muscular and veiny arms.

“I messed up, I know and I get what you mean, but please. One chance and I won’t mess things up with us. You’re everything for me and since you left nothing makes sense anymore,” he says. As much as he wants to get another chance he wouldn’t be mad at you would you say no. It needed time for him to realize that he really hurt you but since he knows he wants to make it better — this time really and not just with make up sex.

“But you will still work as much as you used to, so it’s your priority and I will just be self-evident once again,” you mumble, noticing that Bucky slides his hands across the table, closer to you. He stops when his hands are in the middle of the table, he holds them open for you to decide if you wanna place yours in his or not.

He used to do that, it’s like a promise without the words because he knows that you don’t like hearing it. The words can be broken like he does that but when he holds your hands and says something he never broke that, not once.

You slowly place your smaller ones in his, his fingers closing around your soft hands, holding them in place. “I talked with Sam and he would help me to run the business. And you’re everything but self-evident. I know I didn’t show you that, but when you allow me another chance, you will be my priority and I will show you, you only need to say you want to spend some time and I will have time for you.”

“When I say yes, you need to prove it. I want you to show me that you mean it,” you say, looking straight into Bucky’s eyes. The switch of the sad expression into the brightening eyes and the soft smirk that appears on his lips fuses your heart to beat faster while a tingling feeling erupts in your stomach.

“Everything you ask for, dragǎ mea,” Bucky say, grinning and squeezing your hands in his. He doesn’t want to let go of your hands just yet but your food is getting cold when you’re not going to eat it. So he lets go of one of your hands, the other still tight in his, his thumb rubbing softly over the back of your hand.

And dann you have missed that, the smile, those looks, so sweet and sexy, the way he talks to you and his voice. You haven’t forgiven him yet but who are you to deny him the chance when it’s all you’re craving too. Your heart tells you he means what he said, he never broke that kind of promise, and he knows you better than anyone else.

“Thank you, doll. Now eat, otherwise we need to order new because your food is cold,” Bucky chuckles, and even though it has been some time since you moved out it just feels like there wasn’t that time. That there was no heartbreak, no broken promises — and even though he needs to prove that he means what he said, his emotions told you so much more than words could do.

Chapter Five ->

-> Asks, ideas, small Drabble ideas are appreciated! So feel free to reach out in case you have ideas or questions.

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[jenchan-writingmultis]

Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanons

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A/n: I wanna emphasize further headcanons for Sylus cause he got me in a chokehold, NSFW isn’t a lot cause I couldn’t think of much. I hope you like this one! Also, when I was writing this, Rafayel was on my screen saying “Babe don’t move, I wanna see if I can see myself in the reflection of your eyes” I am so sorry baby boy. Also, I apologize for the separated posts, I, once again, reached the Tumblr limit. <( •̀ᴖ•́)>

Pairing: Sylus x AFAB Reader

Not beta read!

Warning: Toxic! Relationship, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, Forced Drug Usage, Exhibitionism, BDSM, Sadistic! Sylus, Cussing, Blood, SYLUS! (He gets his own warning) If there are warnings that I didn’t notice, please let me know, thank you!

Masterlist Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanons (Part One)

Sylus NSFW Headcanons

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SFW:

✄ He wouldn’t forget about the men you keep in your life; they’re so obsessed with you that they all got impacted by your disappearance, especially Rafayel, who was the one that got you into the situation, he knows that the guy was the reason why you almost died, twice? Was it thrice? Anyways that’s too much for someone who says that they loved you for 800 years, (He’s a full-time stalker, do you think his raven wouldn’t hear your conversation when that man got hospitalized?)

✄ For his amusement... he usually tends to give them little trinkets of your possessions where they live or lets you send a message to them once in a while. Just to mess with them, after all, they're the ones who got to have plenty of time with you, and yet here you are, in his home. He considers himself the winner right now.

✄ Out of all the male leads, the one he considers to be a big threat was Lumiere, the number of times he almost got caught with you, that man is crazy. (as if he isn’t) so whenever he lets you out, he makes sure you’re not identifiable, it’s simple really, he uses a device that changes your appearance to look vastly different from your looks.

✄ In terms of Physical affection, he would do it when you still despise him, he’d force you to kiss him, planting his lips on yours while you squirm from your chains, try to bite his lips, he’ll slap your thighs with a baton, specifically your inner thighs mind you, since it hurts so much more there. Yeah, keep trying to hurt him, he’ll make sure to give it back tenfold.

✄ Does he hug you? He does, though the type of hugs he gives aren’t comfortable, it’s where you can’t move, can’t leave or squirm your way out of his hold, he’s strong enough to hold you down.

✄ Cry for him! He likes seeing your tears, angry tears, or pained tears, he doesn’t care, he just wants to see you sob. While he loves that you’re bratty, he also prefers obedient mutts as stated in the first headcanons. If he needs to punish you for that he’s very much willing.

✄ He does drug you often. He likes watching you turn into a mush, a pliant pet for him, he doesn’t take advantage of you in this state though, he just gets tired of your constant squirming when he wants your cuddle after a long day of work, he’d come back to his home, his bodyguards and servants greeting him enthusiastically (they’re forced to) while you on the other hand, just spat insult after insult to him. He would appreciate the feisty personality you have if he has the energy for it.

✄ He’d grab your cheeks in a bruising grip before he grabs a pill box, finding the right drug to put you in a state where you reciprocate his love for you, he forces your jaw open before pouring 3 pills into your mouth.

✄ “Drink” he’d ordered, you gasped, trying to push the pills out of your throat, “spit it out, you’ll regret it” his voice harsh, while he forces cold water down your throat, making sure that you drank it, the moment he lets your cheeks go, you’d be coughing and gasping for air, he drenched your shirt too cause of what he did, but he doesn’t care, you’re acting like a feral dog, be ready to be treated like one.

✄ The moment the drugs start to circulate in your system, making you tired and obedient, he’ll carry you to the bed, where you were supposed to be, but didn’t like being on since that bed reminded you that you were trapped.

✄ In times like this, he turns vulnerable, asking you to tell him how much you love him, he likes hearing it, you never told him those words, and he could only hear it when you’re drugged out.

✄ You cuddle him, breathing ragged while he traces his fingers on your back, causing you to shiver, it was cold and hot at the same time, and the only comfort you feel is when you’re pressed against his body, he is the only solace you feel when you’re in this state, and you hated it.

✄ When he tells you he loves you, you respond so eagerly, like a proper mutt.

✄ He'd plant kisses on your face, his hand gently holding your back to adjust your position on his lap. Your skin, warm from the effects of the drugs, pressed against his. Seizing the moment, he continued kissing you, his lips trailing down to your neck, where he left bites, he’d savor your whimpers.

✄ Oh, but if you mention any of the male lead’s name except for him while you’re in a dreamlike state,  he’d be fuming with jealousy, but it’s not obvious, his subtle hints would be on his body language, the way his kisses became rougher, he bites your bottom lip, breaking skin and making you bleed, if you wince in pain, he’d have a sneer on his face.  His grip on your back would go to your waist, chubby or not, he’d have you under his mercy, his hands tugging your cuffs and placing your wrists on top of your head.

“Even if your brain’s a mush you never fail to hit a nerve pretty”

✄ After you fall asleep under his “care”, he’ll take care of you, changing your outfit before he tucks you to bed, you’ll often wake up alone, but with a letter that says that he’ll be expecting proper etiquette from you next time.

✄ Does he say “I love you” to you? If you’re still mad at him, he would out of spite, He would infuse it with such sweetness that it’s guaranteed to make you angrier. Honestly, he loves seeing you try to piss him off. Keep going, love; you're at least one step closer.

✄ On the other hand, once you develop Stockholm syndrome, he won’t say it much, you didn’t become boring, he just likes seeing you desperate to please him, to get his love so he stops his affections just for you to beg for it.

✄ Is it hard to withhold loving you? Nope, it’s easy for him, he lived without your constant affection, even during the months he kept you in his home, you didn’t give him the privilege of your love, so he doesn’t mind not touching you at all, not giving you the attention you want, or the verbal affirmation if he still loved you.

✄ Once you start crying and begging, that’s where he’d hush you, petting your head before he kisses your forehead.

“I’m sorry pretty, I’m here now, don’t cry” He’d coo before you hug him as if your life depended on it.

[junrenjun]

Tease

alpha!mingyu x beta!reader (mentioned ot13 x reader)

genre: fluff, smut (18+ please!)

wc: 2.5k

warnings: fem reader, smut and suggestive material throughout, reader lowkey has a praise kink, unprotected sex (have safe sex plz), mingyu has a big dick lol

summary: y/n is struggling to keep up with mingyu's teasing

a/n: i finally wrote smut (kind of). anyways, this is my first time writing it, so please be nice.

At first, you think he’s doing it on purpose. You were slowly being integrated into the…intimate part of the pack’s life. First with Wonwoo, who you felt most comfortable with. After that, you decided, it would be best to let it happen naturally with everyone else.

You knew Mingyu was attracted to you. You were attracted to him, obviously. It was bound to happen with him soon right?

It’s frustrating. The way he slowly strokes his hand up and down your calf during movie night. Just a simple gesture. Had another pack member done the same, you probably would’ve thought nothing of it. But for some reason, this feels different. It feels like he’s…teasing you. Like there’s more to come.

You fidget uncomfortably in your seat. The hand on your leg stills. He doesn’t say anything, yet turns his head and gives you a questioning look. “Just tired,” you mouth at him, trying your best to not disturb the others. He nods at you and you pray that it was convincing enough. You barely pay attention to the movie after that. 

It happens again, a few days later. 

The boys are getting ready to leave for the day and you’re sitting peacefully at the breakfast bar amidst the chaos. As the boys slowly filter out, a few bid goodbye with a kiss. A peck on the forehead from Joshua. A long, sweet kiss from Wonwoo. A hesitant but endearing cheek kiss from Chan. A kiss attack from Jeonghan, who has decided to become your personal menace. 

You think they’ve all had their share for the morning, so you head to the sink to rinse out your mug. You’re taken by surprise when a pair of arms wrap around you, and then pull back so that their hands rest low on your hips. His scent envelops you.

“Mingyu,” you acknowledge, standing up straight. The alpha leans down, pressing a few kisses to your jaw. Between that and his grip on your waist, you’re left breathless. 

“You smell good today,” he murmurs, “gonna miss you.” His words leave goosebumps on your skin. Or maybe that’s because he whispered them into your neck. Either way, you’re definitely a little flushed.

And then, he turns around, hands untangling from your waist, and leaves. You’re stranded, left high and dry, in the kitchen. Well, maybe dry isn’t the word. 

You half expect him to come home and fuck you til your wits end. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t ignore you per say, but he sure as hell doesn’t make any moves on you. So maybe this whole thing isn’t on purpose.

The next thing you chalk it up to is Minghao’s heat. Mingyu’s been his favorite heat partner for years now, and when this whole…teasing thing started, the omega’s heat had just finished. Obviously, Mingyu was just letting out some pent up sexual energy from that, right?

Why it’s directed toward you, you aren’t quite sure. But that’s not your question to ask. 

It makes sense in theory. Most of the things he’s done with you, you’ve seen him do with Minghao or Jihoon during their pre-heats. It’s probably unconscious. Something the alpha side of him does without thinking.

But despite the fact that you have no inner omega to swoon over it, your body sure reacts like it does. Especially right now, when he’s scenting you heavily. 

It’s quite intimate too. He’s got his neck pressed against yours, rubbing his scent deep into your skin. It’s a far cry from the typical wrist or nose that most of the pack uses when scenting the gland on your neck. 

The feeling has you shivering in his hold. Your instincts can’t help but go a little haywire at this. Your back is arching off the bed and you swallow hard, trying to ground yourself. It’s not enough and you continue to squirm. 

Mingyu is blissfully unaware of your turmoil beneath him, too fixated on the way your scent is mingling so beautifully with his. Once it hits the perfect ratio, he pulls back.

You’re confused by this. Why was he stopping? Clearly this was leading to something. But alas, he sits back on his heels and says, “all better.” With no other words, he gets up and leaves. 

At first you’re upset about the fact, but when you think about it, this all makes perfect sense right? Hao’s out right now, Jihoon’s in a mood, so he’s projecting his urges onto you until he can be with one of them. Yeah, that’s logical.

You’re at a loss though when Minghao comes home though, scent still slightly fruity from his heat, and Mingyu just does nothing. 

He doesn’t drag him away to one of their rooms after dinner. You thought for sure your little scenting session would rile him up enough for that. Nothing really happens at all, and you’re at a loss.

The last reason you think could be causing Mingyu’s behavior is that his rut is coming up. That makes sense right? It’s all just hormones. Because why else would he be torturing you like he is right now?

You’re both standing at the desk in your room. The man in question stands pressed behind you, arms around your shoulders, hands guiding your own. He’s trying to show you how to fix the wires in your bluetooth speaker that have come loose, but you’re barely paying attention.

Instead, your eyes are transfixed on his hands and how big they are. The way the veins bulge as he moves your own fingers around. And your mind is preoccupied listening to his gravelly voice. God, has it gotten deeper lately?

Your last straw is the two little words he lets out when you manage to somehow fix the wires successfully. “Good girl,” he praises. 

You’re embarrassed about the way your body reacts to his statement. Heat comes creeping over your neck. You can feel your face flush. Your heart practically skips a beat. It’s all too much. You don’t even realize the words that spill out of your mouth until it’s too late. “Is your rut coming up?”

Needless to say, you are mortified. There’s no way to avoid this conversation now. His hands come to a stop above your own. He pauses for a moment, and then says, “no, why? Do I smell different?”

You don’t say anything, but shake your head. Suddenly, it feels hard to breathe. Mingyu must notice because he’s taking a step back and raising a hand to your forehead. “Do you feel alright?” he asks. 

There’s an apparent lack of response from you. Your eyes are closed and your breathing is heavy. The alpha is not pleased with this. “Gotta use your words, sweetheart.”

You swear something inside of you gushes at this. Does he know Wonwoo said those exact same words to you two weeks ago in a much more heated way? When you open your eyes, he’s staring at you, waiting for an answer.

“I…” you stutter, “why do you have to be such a tease?” The words leave your mouth so quickly you aren’t sure if Mingyu hears them.

He does though because the biggest smirk takes over the alpha’s face. “Oh baby,” he says, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Have I been mean to you? Tell me how I’ve been mean,”

The jerk. He was doing this on purpose. “You know,” you growl out.

The alpha laughs at this. “If I knew it was bothering you this badly, I would’ve stopped waiting for you to make the first move,” he tells you.

You look at him incredulously. “You’re telling me you’ve been waiting for me to do something? I thought scenting me like your life depended on it would be considered a first move.”

He quirks his brow at you. His grin is growing by the second. “You never did anything to make it go further though, did you?” he asks.

“Me squirming under your touch the entire time wasn’t enough for you to consider going further?” you exclaim, your hands thrown up in exasperation.

At your comment, Mingyu’s eyes darken a little, and he takes a step toward you, placing his hands on your waist, and whispering in your ear once again. “Mmm, Wonwoo told me you’re pretty bad at using your words. Figured I’d make you practice a little.”

The next time you see Wonwoo, you’re going to give him hell for telling Mingyu about that. Right now though, you’re going to ignore it, because the alpha is finally kissing you, his hands running up and down your sides. You sigh into the kiss, satisfied with the knowledge that he’s probably not teasing this time. 

The kiss evolves into something hungrier, with a little more fervor. You’re both anticipating what is to come. One hand slides up to hold the back of your neck, while the other reaches under your shirt to rub circles at the skin on your hip. Eventually, Mingyu pulls away for air and gives you another knowing smirk. “Are you ready to tell me what you want now?” he asks. 

Your mind is clouded with desire, so you only let out a meek, “please.” 

He’s not satisfied with this response, taking the hand from your neck and brushing it lightly across your chest. Enough pressure to give your nipples a little tease, but not enough to really make you feel it. As he’s doing this he asks you, “please what?”

“Please Gyu! Just fuck me already!” you beg. This finally seems to do the job, because he’s dragging you toward the bed. 

Within seconds, he has you under him. His lips are on your neck, sucking and biting at the skin until it’s red. You throw your head back when he hits an extra good spot and you almost swear you hear him groan. 

Deciding he’s had enough of abusing your neck, he tugs at the hem of your shirt and you allow him to pull it over your head. Thanks to the little pout you give as he messes with the clasp of your bra, he removes his own shirt. 

He doesn’t waste a second before returning his lips to your skin. This time, he trails open mouthed kisses down your chest, stopping to flick one of your nipples lightly with his finger. The action pulls a pleased hum from you and he jerks his head up to look at you. “You like that?’ he asks and continues to pinch it just to see your reaction.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You know you should respond, his words from earlier bounce around in your head, screaming at you to say something. It’s just so hard with how good he’s making you feel. After a particularly harder pinch, your eyes snap back open, arching off the bed, and you let out a breathy, “yes.”

Seconds later, he taps at your clit through your clothes and lets out a, “good girl.” The moan you let out at his words is borderline pathetic. He knows it too, because he’s chuckling and hooking his fingers on the waistband of your bottoms. 

“Everyone likes a little praise, huh?” he says, though you know it’s rhetorical and you don’t have to respond this time. He pulls your bottoms and panties down together and discards them on the floor. 

He looks up at you expectantly now and changes his tone from teasing to more serious. “How much prep do you want?”

You quirk your head to the side, debating your response. “Uh, how…big are you?” you finally ask. He gives you a knowing look in response. You nod and then respond, “just your fingers is fine.”

He hums and gives your inner thigh a little kiss, before running two fingers along your folds. The wetness collects, and then he brings them to your clit, rubbing in gentle circles. The feeling has you writhing, so he throws his other arm over your waist to keep you still. 

This continues for a while, before he drags his hand back down and slowly inserts one finger. He lets you adjust for a few minutes, slowly pumping in and out, then adds another. This time, his thumb finds your clit and the combination of sensations sends you reeling toward the edge of climax. 

It feels good, you’ll admit that. Really good, if you’re being honest. But you’d rather cum later, when he’s inside you, so you reach an arm out to halt his movements.

He watches as your chest heaves up and down, trying to catch your breath after almost tipping over the edge. When you look up at him again, he smirks at you again and asks, “too much?” You let out a breathy, “mhm” and watch as he removes his hand. 

Seconds later, he’s rolling off the bed to take off his pants. You use the moment to catch your breath a bit more. When you look back over, you suddenly understand why he was insistent on prep. And why Minghao tends to limp after his heat.

Mingyu’s dick is big. Big and pretty. You’re not sure how that’s even possible. You forget every word known to man in that moment, and it clearly concerns him because he’s halting his movements and telling you, “we don’t have to go further if it’s too much.”

While the rational side of your brain appreciates the sentiment, the horny side does not. “Mingyu I swear if you aren’t inside of me within the next minute, I’m going to combust.”

That pulls a chuckle from his throat and prompts him to climb back on top of you. He settles himself between your legs, pushing your knees outwards to give himself more space. Then, he’s leaning forward, one hand placed next to your shoulder, the other firmly holding his cock.

You feel the head brush slowly up and down your entrance, before pushing in, ever so slowly. He’s barely made it an inch and you’re feeling more stretched than you ever have before. Mingyu must be able to sense this though, because he doesn’t keep going. He stops and lets you adjust.

When you finally nod at him, he pushes in further. After an agonizing few minutes, he finally bottoms out. God, you’ve never felt this full before. Involuntarily, you spasm around him, causing him to let out what you consider to be one of the prettiest moans you’ve heard (you’ll take that back when Woozi whimpers for you for the first time). 

He leans down to rest his forehead against yours and laces his fingers through yours. Right now, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Maybe all that teasing was worth it in the end.

[luciferstit]

ANYWAY. ON A DIFFERENT NOTE:

mob psycho manga nation how are we feeling about having to see this scene animated. i think i might burst out into hives. it’s going to absolutely emotionally demolish me and i’m gonna need a day of recovery.

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

they call me the griever because halfway through a thing I enjoy I’m already sad that it’s closer to being over

[rosicheeks]

😢

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Rough Sex w/ MW2

Warnings: 18+, Heavy Smut, Rough Sex, Restraining, Stomach Bulging, Unprotected Sex, Sexual Punishment, Use of a Strap-On, Implied Blow Job, Possessive Sex, Dehumanisation, Slut Shaming, Reader Blaming, Hair Pulling, Slight Dumbification, Blood, Dirty Talk, Profanity, Pet Names, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Ghost

“Just a stupid little whore, aren’t ya,” Simon growled as he pounded you from behind, fingers gripping your hips so tightly that phantom bruises descended upon your skin. The slickness of your abused hole did little to numb the pain of Simon’s rapid, unrelenting pace, of his engorged tip slipping deeper and deeper inside you, plugging you, making any form of escape from your impending unravelment impossible.

You could feel his cock, hot, heavy and ravenous, pulsating inside you, bringing you to the edge of electric euphoria with every thrust. 

“Good for nothin’ except takin’ my cock.” He spat, his hand sliding up your spine and rooting itself in your hair. He gripped at the base and pulled your head back, hissing in your ear.

“Isn’t that right, Darlin’?”

You wanted to speak. Wanted to tell him you were his, only his, but the words wouldn’t come out quick enough.

When you didn’t answer in time, he stopped. Pulled out, only the swollen tip remaining lodged inside.

Without warning, he pushed. Hard.

You’d felt full before, but this sudden influx of skin and muscle and heat was too much. It knocked the air out of you, made you cry out as Simon sank balls-deep inside you, impaling your shuttering, wanting body on his dick. He grunted, his grip on your hair tightening.

“That’s it,” he said as you whimpered, cried out. “Take it — take it like the slag you are.”

König

“You wanted this – you wanted me to take you. Fucking attention whore,”

König’s voice reached depths you didn’t think possible as he bounced you on his cock, his stomach coated in your juices as he lay beneath you, thrusting up to plant as much of his member in the tight cavern of your hole as possible.

Even from where he lay, he could see the outline of himself within you. He twitched. Tried to stave off from painting your insides white for just a little longer.

You had no choice but to take it – your wrists bound behind your back with König’s belt – to take every inch of König’s cock.

He stretched you out to lengths you didn’t think possible as he pulled you down onto the base of his member, causing tears to stream down your face as he hit a sliver of you you didn’t think existed.

“God, you’re nothing without me,” he asserted, teeth gritted and restraint pushed to the very limit. “Nothing but a rag doll on the end of my dick – only made for me to use as I please.”

You knew it was true, especially with the coil within you verging on snapping, sending you over the precipice of ruin. König gave you a sly, thin grin.

“Nobody else can fuck you like this, can make you cry like this.” His grip on your waist proved he wasn’t lying, shortened nails leaving crescent indents in your skin.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

Soap

“Don’t tell me you’re cryin’ on me now, Darlin’,” Johnny said, not an ounce of sympathy or empathy in his voice. If anything, the realisation that you were just about holding on as he railed you from behind seemed to make him go faster, push harder, knocking his thick, meaty cock into you at a pace that could only be savage.

“C’mon, show me you can take it. I know you can,” he goaded — or perhaps encouraged. You couldn’t be so sure, especially as you could barely string a thought together, never mind the inclination to ask. He watched you, made dead eye contact with you through the mirror that put your undoing on display for him, his eyes piercing and ice.

At your silence, Johnny slapped your backside. Harsh. You yelped at the sting and jolted forwards, only for Johnny to wrap a hand around your throat and pull him back. His balls were flush against your backside, the tightness of your bodies together making him grunt.

“C’mon, mo ghaol — tell me how much you need this dick — show me how much you deserve it.” He squeezed your throat.

Valeria

“You were begging to be used by me — wearing those tight shorts like I wouldn’t notice.” Valeria punctuated her point with a harsh thrust, sending you banging against her desk, ribs aching, pressed against sleek wood. Everything hurt.

The strap-on she’d chosen was one she reserved only for correcting your most egregious behaviour. Apparently, this extended to your fashion choices, too.

“Trying to make my men lose focus, huh? Is that it?” The sound and sensation of your body welcoming the cruel length of her weapon made your cheeks flush and your hole clench, trying to pull it deeper, begging for punishment.

“Have I not given you enough attention? Or are you just hungry for anyone who lays eyes on you,”

You whimpered, trying to keep your head level as your girlfriend battered your insides with nothing less than animalistic fervour and rage.

“You wanna dress like a cheap whore,” she said, voice deep and husking as she lowered her lips to your ear. “Then I get to fuck you like one — my whore.”

Price

“I love you,” he panted. “I love you, I love you, I love you–”

He couldn’t stop – these last few hours with you would be all he had before he had to go on deployment again. And he was determined to make them count.

He’d stuffed himself into you, made light work of grinding your sanity down to its bare foundations as your body shook with the onset of another orgasm.

You were already so sensitive, every knock of his tip against your sensitive spot sending equal euphoria and pain through you.

“Gonna cum in you again,” he said, voice lethargic, words slurred like the blurring edges of watercolours. “Gonna get it as deep as possible. Want it still in you by the time I reach Base.”

The many loads of cum he’d already pumped into you weighed heavy in your belly, almost creating its own centre of gravity as you fought to keep your swollen stomach off the mattress. Anytime you failed, the sensitivity of your skin, the feeling of his load stagnant inside you, made you wince.

You could feel John’s cum leaking out of you as he plunged deep, deeper still, forcing his seed out of the small spaces which weren’t suffocated by his almost impossible girth. 

Horangi

“Been stretching you out for hours and you’re still- ngh— fuckin’ tight.” Hong-Jin said, almost as if chiding you. He grunted, balls-deep yet nowhere near satisfied, his resolve being milked from him.

“Gonna need to–” he grunted, “break you in,”

Without warning, he pulled out – only halfway – and plunged back inside you with an almighty push. One that, despite not having the power of his whole length behind it, forced a strangled moan from you.

His breath caught as he felt himself slip into a deeper, darker part of you, one which seemed to try and reject him as your hole pulsed uselessly around him, as if to push him out.

He persisted. Hissing.

When he pulled out, he spotted something.

A small streak of blood along his shaft.

“Doing so well for me, Love,” he groaned, slipping back in and re-establishing a rhythm. You mewled beneath him.

“God, you’re so good — just lying down and taking it – like my own personal fleshlight.”

Alejandro

“So this is why you’ve been acting so strange recently, hm?” Alejandro spoke between pants, arms at either side of your head, blocking off everything that wasn’t him. He gritted his teeth, grunted at the feeling of you tightening around him as he brutalised you with his savage pace, stretching you out and making your hole spasm around his cock.

“Just needed a good fuck, didn’t you?”

You were all but drooling as Alejandro quite literally fucked you dumb, no thoughts in your head save for the desperate electricity between your legs.

When you didn’t answer — or rather couldn’t, for your mind was scarcely able to keep itself intact for the feeling of ruin rapidly descending upon you — Alejandro took your chin between his fingers and forced you to focus on him.

“Didn’t you.” He repeated. To that, the fire in his eyes, you managed a sloppy ‘yes’. Alejandro hummed, pressed himself closer, chest-to-chest.

“Don’t worry, Cariño — we’ve got all night to fuck that pretty little mouth back into working order.”

Rudy

Years of toil, training and discipline have shaped Rudy into the unsuspecting behemoth he is today; as was evident in the way you cried out when his dick skewered you, stretching you out and making your back arch against the mattress. He felt himself pressed to the wall of your abdomen as your stomach met his. He shivered.

“He can’t fuck you like this,” he said, voice low and seething, the intonation of a snake. His usual puppy-eyes were sharp, as if of a feline disposition. He watched you as your eyes, almost having rolled back into your skull, refused to meet his.

“Nobody can have you. You’re mine — only mine.” He slammed into you faster, giving you no preparation and only using the wetness already dripping from between your thighs there to slip in. 

“Now, tell me who you belong to.”

Your mouth, agape with silent pain, released nothing. Rudy raised his hand, slapped you. You yelped, the sting sending a shock between your legs. You clenched around him. He growled, head dipping to your collarbone, where you could feel his breath, scorching and unrelenting.

“Let’s try this one more time,” he rasped. When he looked up, his eyes were black. Gone was the man you loved.

“Or I won’t be so forgiving.”

Graves

“You like bein’ used by me, don’t ya,” Graves panted, struggling to keep up with the pace of his own euphoria. He could tell you were close, too, from the way tears streamed down your cheeks and how you suctioned around him, pulling him deeper, pleading with him for more.

“Love bein’ my favourite little cum dump — so well-behaved, just for me.”

Nothing could be truer as you felt him thrusting into you at a speed that suggested anger. 

“Never be good for anything except taking my cock like a good slut.”

Your tongue lolled out from the corner of your mouth, drool dripping onto the sheets as Phillip allowed you your silence, especially considering how you’d earned it. Your obedience, your willingness to take everything he gave you. You scratched just the right part of Graves’ ego that had sustained him for this long.

His eyes glinted as he looked down at you.

“Ain’t that right, Doll.”

Gaz

Gaz’s change in personality, admittedly, frightened you. Especially as he stood over you now, having bound your hands together tied them over your head to the bed frame.

You’d tried encouraging him to just touch you already, to take you now as you were bound and helpless. Hell, you’d even ground yourself against his boot, working yourself up into a frenzy all in an effort to make him crack.

He didn’t.

“Oh no,” he said, wagging a finger at you. “You don’t get my dick yet.”

Already having used his belt to immobilise you, he unzipped his jeans and pulled them down to his thighs along with his boxers. Half-hard and beading at the tip, he eyed you, a cruel smile at his lips.

“I’m gonna fuck your face so hard,” he continued, taking you by the hair and forcing your lips to his pulsing member, watching your eyes widen. “That you’ll be eating through a tube for the rest of the week.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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[moechies]

cnc wif nanamin : pt 2╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ pt 1 !!

“i know,”

you cry into the palm of his hand as his shaft slides against your cunt, puffy lips hugging him so perfectly. his tip nudges against your clit, causing you to jump against his hold.

“just let it happen, princess. it’s okay.”

you want to admit that you hate this, but your sweet pussy can’t resist the way the man holds you, touches you, and speaks to you. your cunt clenches around nothing as the man continues sliding himself in between your folds, sticky noises making themselves heard.

“so wet. you really don’t want this? you’re not good at lying, darling,”

another humiliating cry is muffled by his hand, your own coming up to reach at his.

“none of that sweetheart. you don’t want to find out what happens if you’re bad, right?”

he slows his grinding against your cunt, pausing right below your milky cunt. his heavy shaft still lays atop of your cunt, connected by the strings of your frothy slick.

“gonna put it in now princess. behave now, don’t scream.”

his cock head presses against your tiny hole, causing you instinctively to grind backwards, avoiding his intrusion. but it’s no use as his hold on you becomes a little stronger, hand over your mouth just a little harsher.

“now what’d i say? hm?” and within a second, a short ‘plop!’ comes from below, finally connecting you two. you cry out at the feeling, not that it wasn’t good, but that it was a tad bit too much already.

“there you go, good girl.” his shaft slides further, a hint of resistance when he begins reaching the center of his shaft, where he thickens. he doesn’t make it known, not wanting to scare his sweet baby.

but it’s not as if you don’t feel it, causing you to squeal when he doesn’t slow,

“it’s okay, it’s okay.. there..” he presses short kisses against your temples, making your tears unbeknownst.

“too sweet for your own good, aren’t you baby?”

[meiieiri]

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: so she tells him not to cry over the injustice of a life cut too short for at the end of all this, she’ll only be a dream.

pairing: ex-husband!toji fushiguro x terminally ill wife!reader | song inspo: soon you’ll get better, cancer

warnings: heavy angst, terminal illness (primary bone cancer, stroke and MS), mentions of divorce/past infidelity, allegories to cheating, major character death. please read at your own risk. | a/n: this was so heavy for me to write, i started writing at 2 in the morning, and it’s 6:34 now.

word count. 3k~

“Why can’t you do anything right?”

Toji should have noticed, he laments as he takes a sip of his cognac. He should have sensed that something was wrong sooner, maybe that way, he wouldn’t be begging to borrow some more time to make things right. Your fingers were trembling that day — the first time you ever ruined his morning coffee — your hands shaking uncontrollably as you washed the mug with a sorrowful look on your face, your eyes glossy with the tears you were desperately trying to hold back.

He shouldn’t have been so harsh, he realizes that now. Breakfast had been burnt to a crisp and ruined, sure, but nothing could compare to how he constantly ruins the one beautiful thing that has ever happened to him, who haphazardly spilled her smoothie on him when they first bumped into each other in Shinjuku just after he finally cashed in enough money with Shiu to get his laundry done.

Toji, whose senses have now been honed to pick up on the slightest of your sluggish movements and your pained and suppressed hisses, hears the bedsheets rustling and he instantly gets up before you could even force yourself out of bed. “Hey, hey, easy now.” He catches you before you could fall backwards onto the mattress, your skin appears cold and clammy, your thinning muscles stiff as a board — you must be having one of your episodes again. “What do you need?” he asks, his voice heartbreakingly gentle for the first time in months.

“Water.”

Your husband nods, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, hurriedly making his way to the dining table which was now kept in your bedroom so you aren’t forced to move around too much. The sound of water splashing into the glass fills the air and you feel another stabbing pain coarse through your joints.

Toji gingerly brings the glass of water to your lips and you sighed, an exasperated yet amused smile on your face. “I can do it, babe. Don’t worry.” Why did that sound like you were trying to convince not just Toji but yourself? You bring your bony hands to grip the glass and it takes everything out of your husband not to break into a fit of sobs when he sees your hand violently shaking with effort just to keep the glass steady.

His larger hands close around your defeated one. “I-I…I can do it, I did it yesterday. Y-you saw me.”

“Shhh, I know, it’s okay.”

You bite your lip to distract yourself from the anguish of realizing the truth behind the doctor’s words. Everything you feared was finally becoming your and Toji’s bleak reality.

“It’ll be a painful decline.”

Funny how you’re the one fighting to extend your life but Toji feels like he’s already gone ahead and passed on. Just a few minutes earlier, you were overjoyed to see him again. You didn’t think he’d see your text thinking that his new girlfriend must have asked him to block your number, and you most certainly didn’t expect him to arrive when you asked for him via a brief phone call to drive you to the hospital for your monthly checkup since he took the car with him when you separated. He made up a bullshit excuse when Yuko asked where he was going in such a hurry and he makes it to your old shared apartment to see you sitting on the driveway looking thinner and sicklier than ever — your eyes were sunken, and your cheeks were hollow.

Yet in spite of that, you gave him the brightest of smiles, waving shyly to him as he steps out of the driver’s seat. “Happy morning!” you smiled, greeting him with your signature good morning tagline which he used to happily wake up to everyday. There wasn’t a scintilla of resentfulness in your demeanor, and you genuinely looked so happy to see him for the first time since he moved out.

“How long?” Toji asked the doctor, his heart twisted into knots when he hears you happily humming in the MRI room as you put your clothes back on, oblivious to the solemn mood in the other room. You already knew what was going on, but you’ll just continue pretending that everything’s alright and that this is nothing more but a case of fatigue so as not to inconvenience Toji.

“A year, maybe even less.”

“And…you’re saying it’s best if she simply…doesn’t get the treatment?”

The doctor sighs heavily. She’s seen many cases like this before, but none as utterly hopeless as yours. Even if you did start the treatment, the lesions in your spinal cord have already entered the most severe stage, you were already exhibiting signs of autonomic nervous system distress — the tremors, the uncontrollable stuttering of your words, the growing loss of balance — and as if that wasn’t enough, the doctor also discovers that you were suffering from primary osteosarcoma.

There was no way to cure you now that it’s too late.

“I suggest we just focus on keeping her comfortable. The only thing left for us to do now is to bring her home. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re so fucking embarrassing. I can’t bring you anywhere.”

By some miracle, you and Toji went out one night around four months before the divorce proceedings. He went home that day, exhausted beyond all belief from another mission, but he was in a good mood. Yuko was out working late tonight, so, he decides to take you out to your and his favorite izakaya for some yakitori.

Some time during the night, after downing three full bottles of sake together, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. “I’ll be right back,” you told Toji, tipsily kissing him on the cheek as you hop off the bar stool in the direction of the women’s room.

You couldn’t tell if you were staggering from the copious amounts of alcohol you ingested, but your legs were beginning to feel heavy, and for some ominous reason, you were slowly losing all sensation in your left leg. You try to hold onto one of the izakaya’s shōji panel decor pieces to regain your balance, but it was a futile effort in the end. Your knees suddenly buckle, and a sickening crack tears through your tibia as you fall to the ground.

“Are you alright?!”

Toji picks up on the commotion instantly and he sees the izakaya patrons crowding around the hallway leading to the restroom. He quickly makes his way over and a look of disgust appears on his features when he sees you crumpled on the ground and the mortifying sight of you having relieved yourself on the floor, tears of embarrassment staining your cheeks at the thought of your body suddenly malfunctioning like this.

Muttering out an ignorant apology for his seemingly drunk wife, he roughly picks you up, growing increasingly infuriated with you when one izakaya employee offers him a damp cloth to dry out your urine with. It was funny how quickly other people came to your aid — people whose names you don’t even know — while your own husband seems very reluctant to even touch you right now. He doesn’t speak to you on the way home even as you apologize while he’s loading you into the car, grimacing when the leather seat gets wet. “Toji, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened—“

“—Save it.”

What he should have said was: “Are you okay?”, “It’s alright.” or better yet, “I still love you.”.

At present, Toji decides on a whim to take you to Yokohama’s famed bayside today. It’s only a two hour drive from your place in Tokyo and Toji figures you must miss going on road trips by now with you cooped up at home all the time. “Toji, are you sure this is a good idea?” you murmured nervously as the car pulls to a stop by the bayside promenade. What happens if you can’t control yourself again? There doesn’t look to be a lot of public restrooms nearby.

Toji plants a reassuring kiss to your nose. “Babe, you remember what the doctor said, spending some time outdoors can do wonders for your health. Besides, didn’t you always love the coast?” He brings your hand to his scarred lips, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin before stepping out of the car to retrieve your wheelchair from the trunk.

“I know but what if I have another accident?” you said worriedly, rolling down the car windows so he could hear you. “What if I embarrass you again?”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about you.”

You’ve lost all control of your lower extremities three months ago, rendering you unable to walk and feel when you need to relieve yourself. Toji struggles with the wheelchair for a bit and a flash of sadness fills your heart when you see him take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He wasn’t angry, he was devastated. He looks wistfully at the boardwalk, a distant gaze trained on the sea. He remembers when you used to walk down this very lane, his hand protectively around your waist as you happily take selfies. He could still hear your fond giggles the last time the two of you went here.

“Why don’t you ever smile when I take pictures of you?”

Toji shoos away a pigeon from stealing a bite of his ice cream sandwich. He feigns an unamused look when you try to take another picture of him on your phone.

“Come on, I’ve been trying to get a shot of you all day! You still have to take pictures of me so I can post it on my Instagram feed!”

Your ever moody husband pinches off a small piece of bread and feeds it to the nosy pigeon. “You and your precious feed,” he bemoans jokingly.

“Please? Just one picture!“ you playfully nudged him. Truthfully, you just wanted to see him smile for once, a genuine one and not one of those lopsided smirks he usually gives you when he’s teasing you. “Please?” you pout knowing he can never say no to that adorable face you make when you really want him to do something or worse, buy something for you.

Sighing, he turns to look at your phone’s camera lens and you blush when a smile slowly illuminates his usually stoic face. Your thumb hovers over the stop recording function, not realizing you’re taking a video, but you can’t seem to press it. “What’s taking so long?” he holds the smile like he’s some cartoon character and you snap out of it.

“Oh shoot, it’s a video!” you laughed, and you begin to run down the boardwalk, eagerly getting away from Toji who demands that you delete it immediately. Of course, you’re no match for his borderline inhuman speed attributed to his athletic physique and he catches you by the waist, playfully swinging you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes.

Now, your giggles have gone silent.

Toji realizes now he should have indulged you more over the course of your relationship and subsequent marriage. Had he known that you won’t even make it to your third wedding anniversary, he would have allowed you to take as many pictures and videos of him as you’d like, he’d swallow his pride and he’d give you the brightest of smiles so you could happily post him on your social media accounts with a heartwarming caption about him being your “smiley hubby”.

More than that though, he should have taken more photos of you, mostly stolen candid shots, of course. You can’t catch him being all soft on you now. He still has a reputation to live up to after all. But more than that, had he known that your illness was intent on stealing every scrap of you from him, he should have made more effort in preserving all these memories. He should have kept everything from those toll tickets on your late night drives together when the two of you just needed a quick escape from the world, to receipts from your trip to Tokyo Disney Sea on your first wedding anniversary, and even simple convenience store receipts.

Toji should have kept everything down to the smallest of memories knowing one day, that’s all he’ll have to remember you by.

He opens the passenger seat’s door and he effortlessly gathers you into his arms, being extra careful with your fragile form as he sits you down on the wheelchair. He opens the backseat and he pulls out two different colored blankets, one sea-foam green and the other, rose pink. “Take your pick,” he smiles at you and you chuckled softly, pointing to the rose pink one. He happily covers your legs with it to keep you warm, stroking your cheek when you whisper a bashful ‘thank you’.

Suddenly, the wind picks up and your hair-clip that’s holding your locks in a low bun comes loose, and your head turns in the direction of where it flew off to. Toji is quick to take out his phone and he snaps a quick burst shot of you, your hair blowing in the wind, under the coastal spring weather. You turn to look at him and your face falls when you see him burying his phone in his pocket. Since you fell ill, you’ve become insecure of your appearance, banning your husband from taking pictures and videos of you altogether. “Toji, I thought I said no pictures.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The next day, you serendipitously find your photo on your Instagram handle with the caption: “Y/N — Yokohama, Spring, 2024” and when you swipe left, another picture, well to be more accurate, a screenshot of the video clip you accidentally took of him captioned: “Toji — Yokohama, Summer, 2022”.

“You don’t have to stick around for me. Please just go, I’m sure Yuko must be looking for you right now.”

Yuko, his new fiancé, had been blowing up his phone the entire day with texts demanding to know where he is and if he’s going to make it to their date that night. It’s 7 PM now, and Toji still hasn’t shown up to confirm their restaurant reservations. The damn witch will surely cuss him out when they see each other again, but for some reason, even if he tries, he simply cannot bring himself to give a flying fuck. Your immunologist and oncologist stepped out for a bit to allow you two a brief moment of privacy which had now stretched to an expanse of five hours since your results came in.

The air in the room is thick and heavy, not a single sound can be heard. Inside however, underneath this tough exterior he was projecting, Toji is throwing a fit, screaming at the sky like those broken men in those shitty Netflix romance tragedies he used to callously make fun of.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner? You knew, didn’t you?”

Toji’s bites his cheek trying to keep a lid on his emotions. He knows the answer. He just wants to hear you say it out loud. You hated him. You wanted nothing to do with him after he cheated on you with some girl he met at a bar in uptown Shibuya. That’s why you didn’t tell him, he didn’t deserve to know. “Shit,” he whispers harshly, crumpling the medical abstract in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Was it because you hated me? Is that it? You didn’t think I’d worry about you?”

You screwed your eyes shut, shaking your head. You didn’t hate him, not even when you have every reason to. He abandoned you, left you to waste away and to die and yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to resent him for the simple reason that he is the literal love of your life, the reason behind your smiles, your happy mornings and passionate midnight hours. “At first, I thought I was fine, maybe just fatigued or something.”

“Don’t lie. You knew something was going on and that something in your body was seriously fucked up.”

“And we weren’t married anymore so, I didn’t think it was right to tell you…I wanted to though, but I didn’t want to intrude on you and Yuko,” you said meekly. Even in your greatest hour of need, you were still thinking of him, putting him first even when he doesn’t deserve it. “I-I…I don’t hate you enough to worry you, to make you feel that you could have done something to prevent this. Because I’m telling you right now, regardless if you were faithful or not, I was bound to get sick anyway. You couldn’t have done anything to change that.”

“But I could have been there. I should have noticed. I shouldn’t have downplayed everything.” He says this as if he wants to shake this noble, self-sacrificing bullshit attitude out of your system. “I’m your husband. I should have been there.”

You flash him a heartbroken smile at his little slip-up, so, even now, he was still referring to himself as your husband, not your ex-husband. “To see me waste away? Babe, I don’t want you to see that.”

You begin to feel tears streaming down your face, the emotions you were experiencing now flowing like a free river after an entire dam is destroyed. Toji watches you unravel before his eyes and his bottom lip begins to tremble. What has he done? Dear god, what has he done to his poor, poor wife?

“I want you to remember me healthy, I want you to remember me as myself not this…sickly pitiful woman you’re unlucky to call your ex-wife…besides, after all this, I’ll only be a dream.” A mere passing second in his life. “And believe me, my life wasn’t so bad.”

He loses it at that.

“Just stop this, Y/N! Stop acting like you’re not scared shitless of dying, like you’re not gonna have regrets once all this is over! Stop pretending that things are gonna be alright one day because it won’t! Not when I’m now being forced to accept that you won’t get better, not when I’ve wasted so much time putting you through hell and back instead of taking care of you like a proper husband should, and certainly not when I’m suddenly supposed to learn to say goodbye and to live without you! Because fuck that, Y/N!”

You are left speechless at that.

Toji was never one to lose his cool, even during your worst arguments, he may slide a few snarky remarks here and there but Toji Fushiguro…never yells, and he doesn’t sob either.

You hesitantly stand up and walk over to him, crouching down in front of him as he covers his tear-stained eyes with his right hand while the other is crumpled around your medical abstract. Taking his left hand, you gently remove the medical abstract from his grip, and for the first time in so many months, you feel one another’s warm skin against each other. You press your forehead to his hand as you wept with him.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be a dream. I want you to be real.”

“Can’t you be bothered to clean up in here?!”

You wake up from your nap, you’ve been battling muscle and joint pain the entire day, the slightest of movement causing you to double over in agony and because of that, you weren’t able to clean the apartment today. You slowly get up from the couch, being extra cautious not to make any sudden movements. “Well?” Toji presses, his lips curled into a scowl.

“I’m sorry, I was feeling a little tired,” you sighed heavily, picking up a broom to sweep the living room floor despite the excruciating pain you were in. Toji rolls his eyes, handing you a Manila envelope. “What’s this?” you asked softly, peering inside.

“Divorce papers,” he shrugs nonchalantly. Everything stops, even the very rise and fall of your chest halts into an uneasy stasis. “I already signed them. I just need your signature then, I’ll move out by tomorrow.”

You must be dreaming. That’s the only logical explanation to all this. You’re asleep, in a deep REM sleep, utterly oblivious to the world. This wasn’t happening. But you could feel the rough surface of the brown envelope, and you could still feel the agonizing stabs of white hot pain throughout your body. Glancing at Toji, you see him texting someone with an eager look on his face that screams: “I’m free.”.

Instantly, it dawns on you.

“Will she make you happy?” you asked, putting down the broom to look around for a pen but Toji pulls one he stole from the law firm office out of his pocket.

“She will,” he answers simply.

And you are indeed grateful that he is completely upfront about finding another while the two of you are married. It would have hurt much more, you silently remind yourself, if he had just upped and left without another word leaving you to wonder what went wrong between the two of you. This was Toji’s final act of mercy in your marriage, and he’s not opposed to honesty and truthfulness either. Not once did he try to change his phone’s lock-screen passcode, nor did he try to conceal the identity of the woman who was texting him every night while you slept fitfully next to him. It was almost as if he wanted you to find out, like he wanted you to know so you could back off yourself.

But if there’s one thing Toji loves about you, it’s your unending faithfulness to your promises, to your marriage vows, and your willingness to endure anything he threw at you. You never checked his phone, you never brought up his affair, you never got angry with him. You just kept silent, simply content with giving and giving…and giving while he milked you dry by taking, and taking and taking, tearing you to pieces bit by bit without hearing a single complaint fall from your lips.

You were a devoted wife, through and through.

And it bored the hell out of him, on top of your recent mishaps, he was done. Done with everything, and done with you.

“Okay.”

Come morning, he takes everything he owns with him and promptly proposes to the girl he’s been seeing for the past year. Two weeks later, your divorce is received by the Tokyo Family Court and is summarily approved and finalized. From that moment on, you and Toji went on your separate ways never to look back, you were each other’s yesterdays, and the love that existed between the two of you was nullified in favor of acquaintanceship…or so you thought.

“Y/N, I’m home!” Toji calls into the house as he comes back from your neighborhood’s pharmacy. You look up from the book you were reading, smiling ever so slightly at your husband who seemed to have a wonderful sparkle in his eyes. “Hey, kid,” he kisses the top of your head when he reaches your wheelchair.

“You seem happy,” you remarked positively.

“Well, for one, they replenished their stocks today and I managed to get you your steroids and painkillers so you’ll be able to sleep easy tonight,” Toji smiles, taking out the items from the pharmacy’s paper bag. “And I got you this neat memory foam cushion for your wheelchair.” He fluffs it up as a form of demonstration before placing it behind your back.

When he sees you smile, a sense of relief washes over Toji. You reach towards him, and he pulls you into an embrace. “Thank you,” you said, pure sincerity dripping from your voice. “For everything you do.”

“Anything for you.” He suddenly moves back and reaches into the tote bag you lended him. “Oh, and wait, before I forget, I have another surprise.”

You laughed airily. “Another surprise? Now, you’re just spoiling me!”

He pulls out a piece of paper from the tote bag and he places it in your hands as your eyes quickly scan over the document. Your breath hitches in your throat when you realize what it is. Did Toji really—? You couldn’t believe it. “A marriage pre-registration,” you said in awe. You read it again just in case to make sure that this wasn’t a figment of your sick body’s imagination, that this was real, that Toji genuinely wants to make everything right again. Your fingers skim over your typewritten names. “It has our names…we’re really—“ You can’t even finish your sentence without bursting into happy tears. “Are we—?”

Toji nods, gazing into your eyes, and as emerald and (E/C) clash for what seems to be an eternity lost in one another, he plants a kiss to your temple, coming up to embrace you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“We are. The Tokyo Family Court, as far as I know, will approve our remarriage once we file this. So, you have to get stronger, okay?” He’s begging you at this point, despite your rapidly deteriorating condition. “Strong enough to see me fix everything. Strong enough to be there on our second wedding, strong enough to say our vows again.”

Your hand comes up to stroke his cheek from behind, and he nuzzles into your neck at your tender touch.

“I will. I promise.”

But you never really get to say your vows. Not comprehensibly anyway.

“Babe, can you say that again?”

Toji crouches by your bedside as you look at him apologetically. You were causing him trouble and pain again which is the last thing that you want to give him especially when’s fought and worked so hard to care for you, to keep prolonging this borrowed time you’re on. “To-ji. Toji.” You gaze at him apprehensibly, not really believing you can do it without crumbling.

“Come on, babe, you can do it. Say my name, please…Toji. I’m Toji.”

“Toooji-“ you slurred sadly. At this point, your Multiple Sclerosis has reached its end stage and has taken…everything from you: your ability to walk, your ability to control your muscle spasms and other bodily functions…and now, coupled with an unexpected stroke, your ability to speak. And you and Toji know that time is almost up, with you having come to accept it, while your husband still held onto hope. Your fingers gently graze over his face as best as your spasms and tremors allow you, starting from his forehead to his eyes, his nose, his cheek and finally, his lips, as if you’re memorizing it one last time. “Lo-ove you-“

Toji sniffles, and your fingers instinctively catch his warm tears. “I love you,” he whispers brokenly. “I do. I love you.”

You feel yourself tearing up as you’re forced to watch your beloved cry. And the worst part? You can’t do a thing about it. “D-oon’t c-cry—‘m okaay. Promi-miise…e’everyything ‘ill be okaaay.”

“Y-yeah,” he chuckles, trying to crack a joke even as hope dwindles. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking champ this entire time, you know? I’m so proud of you. So…so…proud that you’re still here.” He strokes your hair as you tread between the realms of the conscious and the unconscious. “Do you wanna go out today? The weather’s shit though. You’ll probably catch your death out there.” At the mention of the word ‘death’, Toji stops, falling into an uncomfortable silence.

You smile weakly at him. “Tiiredd—“

“You’re no fun,” Toji gently flicks your nose and you scrunch it up in displeasure. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding back an entire waterfall of tears. He knows it’s today. It has to be. You woke up today without your usual ‘happy morning’ greeting, and you refused to drink anything, much less eat anything. “You tired? Any pain?”

You shake your head. You’re as comfortable as you can be for the first time in months. Hospice nurses say humans are built to live the same way they are built to die, no person in this world has ever had the uncanny privilege of being able to look up ‘How to die?’ on a quick Google search and actually find a Wikihow on the morbid subject matter, nor is there anyone else who can teach another how it’s done. It’s just something humans know how to do without a manual, deeply ingrained in the very fabric of human existence is the fear of death, the fear of what comes after, the fear of a nothingness that could follow after living such a vibrant life. Your life was short, barely spanning thirty years, but you lived well: you fell in love, you got hurt, but you fell together again. Now it all has to come to an end, Toji will just have to take care of the rest.

And you weren’t scared.

Or at least you can’t look scared, if you were to be more accurate, you have to look strong and ready to accept the cards you’ve been dealt with for Toji’s sake. When he feels your hand start to slacken, Toji intakes a sharp, shaky breath of sheer panic. “Not yet, Y/N. Please. Not yet.”

He climbs into bed with you, bringing you closer to this desperate man you call yours. There was no getting better anymore, there was no miracle he could hang onto, no deity he could beg for death to spare you, no pill bottle he could pray to. He knew that from the start. But what he witnessed these past months, you’ve been the braver one between the two of you, you knew how to make the most of the rhythm this cruel world gave you and you graciously took him along to dance to the last song of the evening with you.

“There’s still hope. Just keep your eyes open. Just keep them open.” He presses his lips to your forehead, his delusion getting the better of him. “We’ll just keep trying…you can’t leave. You have to stay. You have to.”

“Thaank yoou—“ you softly told your Toji, your voice shrinking in decibels as you become a little drowsy, sinking into the warmth of the requiem of a life well spent.

Toji listens to you, his lips pursed, intent on making this final act of love — a love that is strong enough to say goodbye — a memorable one. And should the afterlife exist, he wishes to send you off with a smile, with the reassurance that he’ll be alright even if that was far from happening.

“Toji.”

“I want you to be real. And I don’t care if we’ll live on borrowed time. Another extra second with you…is enough to last me my entire lifetime.”

[bigfatbimbo]

any fics of fucking Vox so hard the power completely goes out in the making? i looove what you've written for him already, would be really cool if the glitches were visible in the writing too!!

warnings — Pegging, small use of ‘mommy’, Vox being a whiny bitch

summary — Vox takes it in the ass so hard Hell has a power shortage because he’s just a whore like that.

a/n — OMG I LITERALLY LOVE THIS !! god any excuse to write Vox getting absolutely wrecked is a YES.

“Fuck,” Vox’s back arched and his hands went to grip the top of his screen, “Fuck ju—zzs—st like that.”

His voice buffered as you pushed your strap deeper into him. He was on his back with his legs wrapped around your torso so your plastic dick would have easy access to his ass.

You had to hold your hands on his chest to keep him from squirming too much.

“Needy tonight, aren’t we, Vox?” you snickered  as you moved the strap inside him.

“God, fuu—ck you, bi—tcc—tch,” he hissed before you cut him off by aggressively forcing pushing deeper into him.

He yelped and moaned, throwing his head back on the pillow.

“You’re in no position to be saying that, sweetheart,” you start moving the strap faster and rougher.

He let out a glitched out whine and stared up at you with pure hatred, and desperate arousal.

Your hands that rested on his hips now dug into him hard enough to break skin.

“A—ah,” he whined, “What’s wr—oo—ong with you? S—slow down.” he whined at how rough you were being but then followed it up with a long drawn out moan.

“Aw baby,” you leaned down and caressed his screen, “Your going to have to learn to be nicer if you want me to slow down. For now you’ll just have to take my cock like the slut you are.” 

He surprised himself by whining at your harsh words. Your fingers glided down and brushed over his nipples. He then shocked himself even further with the fact that, despite this humiliating position, he arched into your touch, craving any and all attention he can get from you.

You noticed how desperate he was, and smirked. He looked pathetic, sweaty and panting, covered in markings from your teeth, and looking up at you with a dark clouded expression, waiting to see what you do next.

To his delight, you continued to roughly ram into him, going at a rapid pace, nails once again digging into his hips.

“ohmygodohmygodoh—tsk tsk,” he moaned loudly as his hands clung to the sheets. At this point he couldn’t get one sentence out before glitching.

“Wow, look at you” you remark, rolling your hips, “what a little attention whore you are.” 

He whined and threw his head back. At this point, there was a low static-y humming coming from him. 

“‘m not—bzz— ‘m not a whore,” his protests were weak at this point. If he wasn’t being interrupted by malfunctioning mid-sentence, he was being cut off by his own whimpers.

“Oh, but you are, sweetheart. Only a whore would be taking mommy’s cock so good,” you coo down at him.

The implication that he was doing good, especially because that meant approval from you, made his brain feel funny.

“See?” your hands move up from his hips and caress the sides of his screen, “your so pretty when you don’t argue with me, baby.” 

Oh, that did something to him. He wasn’t around a lot of positive people, so the idea that your attention could be shown with something as kind as praise, made his throat tighten.

His moans turned into choked out broken sobs and all the brattiness from earlier drained out of him. You were sure that if he had tear ducts, he would be crying right now.

You hammered into him harder than ever, leaning over him to occasionally pepper kisses on his neck and screen. 

“Nngh— mommy ‘m— bzz— ‘m sorry,” he moaned out, slinking his arms around your neck, trying desperately to bring you closer to him. To make sure he was the only thing catching your attention at the moment.

Your hips rolled fast and rough inside him, and he could feel his climax approaching. 

“Sorry for— wait, you’re sorry?” You were sure you knew what he was talking about, his attitude earlier. Still, for a moment you were thrown off by the idea that this cocky, power-hungry asshole was apologizing unprompted to you. 

After a moments consideration, you came to the conclusion that he must have been slowly easing into subspace. He was probably apologizing because he wanted you to, what, praise him?

All though it seemed slightly out of character for the usually pretentious, bratty man, his half lidded desperate eyes seemed to convince you. 

Your grip on his hips once again tightened as you drilled into him, rougher than before.

“You’re so perfect, baby,” you panted, earning a loud whimper. His arms tightened around your neck and his nails started to dig into the skin of your back.

“So good for me, taking mommy’s cock so well, looking so pretty for me too.”

He whined loudly and the frequency coming from his head started to get louder. You were ramming into him with such concentration that you didn’t notice the lights started to flicker around you.

“c—ccl—close—,” he tried to speak but only uttering a glitched out moan. Luckily, you picked up on what he was trying to say.

“Of course, sweetheart, whenever you want,” you said, rolling your hips once more to make his orgasm even more pleasurable.

“So good for me, Vox, apologizing for being a brat, telling me when your about to cum,” you speak softly into his ear, except you don’t think he comprehends a thing except for ‘so good for me.’

He let out a choked pathetic sob and whined for more. His audio was glitching out more than ever, making him almost unintelligible.

Now the flickering of the lights around you was undeniable, even producing a low buzzing sound reminiscent of the one Vox’s head was currently making.

“So perfect, my pretty baby, ‘m so lucky to have such a good boy.”

All of the praise sent him over the edge. With one loud moan, he came.

But in a moment, the buzzing light bulb beside you exploded, and all the illuminated buildings outside your window went dark, causing a full blackout all across the city.

Vox was still clinging to your neck, breathless, panting against you. 

“Shit. Was that, like, too much, Vox?” you ask, clearly concerned as you go to pull out of him.

He pulls back slightly from your neck but stops you from moving your strap out of him. 

“Please— tsk tsk,” he breathes, still buffering slightly, “Please more.”

a/n — I was too nice to him at the end of this fix but DONT WORRY GUYS I got another sub!Vox request that will literally destroy him

also, i saw someone say that since vox is around so many toxic people, an actual compliment would fuck with him super hard.

so as you can see i agree with them

[slytherinslut0]

I CAN'T stop thinking about mattheo riddle with shy reader and edging nd overstimulation! please!!! 🥹

TAGS: 18+, smut, overstim, fingering/oral fem receiving, multi orgasm, begging, daddy kink (mattheo calls himself daddy (rightfully so), slight edging but heavier on the multi orgasm, dirty talk, praise kink.

well, anon, aren’t you so cute. begging for me so nicely like that hmm?🤭

Which is similar to what Matty would say as he’s kneeled in front of you, his fingers buried knuckle deep inside your cunt and thumb swirling over your clit—his movements slow, methodical, precise—since you’ve already cum twice and now he’s just teasing you for the fun of it, unable to pull away from you regardless of how much you squirm because your noises are just so fucking sexy and you’re so wrecked for him he’s never seen you look so beautiful.

“Matty, m’gonna—ohh—“

Your words are sliced by a whimper, your voice shattered cracked and fucking split into a million tiny pleasured pieces, back arching off the desk and eyes squeezing shut as he pumps you agonizingly slowly, his lips moving closer to your clit, teasing you with his breath until his tongue darts out to replace his thumb.

“That’s it, princess—give it all to me, baby..”

His words, muttered huskily against your dripping cunt, only add to your already mindblowing experience and the string inside you snaps in an instant, your third orgasm rolling through you so hard you damn near scream—and normally you’d be thankful that Mattheo had the presence of a mind to cast a silencing charm before all of this started, but at the moment you can’t find it in you to give a shit who the hell hears you.

You almost wished people could hear how fucking good he was making you feel—how fucking unhinged he'd driven you. You grip onto his hair so hard it feels like you’re trying to pry it from his scalp, your face burning and your body shaking. However, unfazed, Mattheo continues pumping and licking you through your high—only slowing slightly when your whimpers turn to pleas and you begin pushing him away.

He pulls his fingers out to lap up your release, and your ears ring, a shattered cry clogging in your throat. “Matty!—s’too much..t-too much—fuck…”

Both hands shift to your hips, gripping you tight and holding you in place as he mutters; “Mm—not yet..”

“Please—“ you moan, entirely against your fucking will, overstimulation making your head spin as you try to wriggle away from him but he doesn’t relent, determined to push you through it. “I—I can’t—Matty, I…ohhh…”

“Yes you can.” He grumbles against your cunt, the deep vibration of his voice making you gasp. “You can take it, for me…”

“Matty—“ your toes curl and your thighs clench around his head as he gives you a slow, languid, drawn-out lick before sealing his lips around your clit again and suckling gently. He’s attuned to your body, knowing exactly how to work you through overstimulation. “Mattheo—fuck—“

“That’s it…give me a little more, princess..I know you can…” he murmurs as he shifts his hold on you, palm pressing down on your pelvis, other hand moving back to tease your core again, gently pushing a finger into you while swirling over your clit. “You taste so fucking good…don’t wanna’ stop…”

Your head rolls back the second he eases his finger into you, clenching hard around it as he gently pumps in and out—dragging at your walls, pushing into the knuckle and curling slightly—everything he knows will drive you utterly fucking insane.

“Gods! Mattheo! fuck—“ oxygen was no longer in the room and you weren’t even sure if it existed anymore at all, unable to focus on anything other then his ministrations, his tongue rolling over your clit. “I-I-can’t—I can’t cum again—s’too soon…s’too much…”

“Shh, I got you…you’re okay, princess…” he cooes into your cunt, kissing at your clit as if attempting to soothe you, his breath warm and his voice low. Slowly, he adds a second digit inside you, his fingers curling just right to keep building the pleasure with an agonizing, deliberate slowness. “Daddy’s got you, baby…”

“Matt—“ there’s an edge to your voice now, frustrated and overwhelmed, your words tangling with the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. You don’t know what to do with it all, your hands shifting to clutch at the desk beneath you, knuckles cracking with the force of your grip. “It’s so fucking much, Matty—m’so sensitive—“

“I know, baby…” he mumbles, eyes fixed on his fingers disappearing into your soaked, aching cunt. You were one hundred percent certain he had no idea what you just said until he proves you wrong. “I know you’re sensitive, princess…but you’re doing so good f’me…”

And before you can even consider a response his lips are back on you, sealing around your clit and turning your vision blank—your hands shooting into his hair as though it could somehow ground you to reality—even though you knew you were long, long past that.

You can't control a single noise leaving your throat at this point. You're at the mercy of Mattheo Riddle—every swirl of his tongue and slow thrust of his fingers sending sparks shooting through every last nerve ending in your system. You're caught between pushing him away and bucking your hips toward him for more. Your brain is a scrambled mess, unable to effectively decipher and relay what it is that you want or need.

“M-Matt-y…G-gods!…”

Your fourth orgasm charges through you without mercy. You're gasping, whimpering, moaning, and crying out his name—all in a frequency barely coherent. Mattheo grins against your cunt, eagerly chasing your release, holding you tight as you squirm and shake, groaning against you as he relishes every last noise you make.

"That's it, baby...mm, good girl.." he coos through a choked groan, unable to get enough of how deliciously you break for him, how perfectly responsive to him you are. "Always so fucking good f'me..."

He pulls his fingers out slowly, the slick sound of your arousal filling the room until his groan overpowers it when he draws them into his mouth. He meets your eyes from between your thighs and you whimper, still twitching from the aftershocks—your body a trembling mess of overstimulated nerves.

“Look at you,” Mattheo's gaze never wavers, dark and hungry, as if he's already plotting how to bring you to the brink again. His fingers slip from his mouth with a soft pop, and he leans in to place a tender kiss on the inside of your thigh. “So fucking pretty…completely wrecked just f’me..”

Coming down from your high, a wave of embarrassment crashes over you as you realize the absolute mess you've made. Mattheo did a good job of containing it, but you can feel your wetness soaking the desk beneath you and the thought of meeting his eyes becomes almost unbearable. You whinge as he leans in, giving your pussy soft kisses, your hands shooting up to hide your face from him.

“Hey…hey…don’t look away from me..” he murmurs almost instantly, his voice deep and firm but soft and low. He softly nips at your inner thigh, planting gentle kisses over your mound as he trails to the other. One of his hands reaches up to remove your hands from your face. "Why are you getting shy on me, baby...hm? You embarrassed of the mess daddy's made of you?"

“Matty…” you whine, still trying to look away from him until he shifts his hand to your jaw and forces your eyes to his. “Please..”

“I’ll make you messier, princess…” he mutters, holding your gaze as he presses another kiss to your swollen clit. “I think you’ve got a few more in you.”

His fingers gently part your folds, testing your sensitivity with a deliberate slowness designed to provoke your rawest reactions. You groan, your back arching involuntarily, a helpless response to his touch. Your hands instinctively fly up to your face again, attempting to shield your embarrassment—but he intercepts them with a firm grip, pinning your wrists against your chest with one of his strong hands.

“No hiding, baby…I wanna’ see you…wanna’ see you break f’me…” he coaxes tenderly. “So perfect…pussys’ so perfect…”

His thumb finds your clit, circling it slowly, while his fingers continue their maddeningly slow movements, toying with you, enjoying the sounds of your arousal. His praise and possessiveness works to chip away at your embarrassment, though your face burns as you moan again.

"See? Nothing to be shy about," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your thigh. "You're perfect just like this, falling apart for me…fucking love seeing what I do to you..."

[flseur]

꒰ 𐙚 in for it — genshin men ꒱

⟡ synopsis : how genshin men eat you out, just to keep it brief

⟡ characters : wriothesley, neuvillette, al haitham

⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, cunnilingus, face-sitting, fingering, office sex, teasing, praising, squirting

౨ৎ note : been in a writing mood recently and a wriothesley brain rot… sorry if it's shorter than usually, still trying to get used to writing smut but please enjoy ! ૮꒰ ˊᗜˋ ꒱ა

୨୧ WRIOTHESLEY

❥₊ ⊹ wriothesley was… messy when it came to eating pussy. to him, the messier the better. and the more messy you were on his face, the longer he was staying between your thighs.

right now, wriothesley was in bliss. your thighs locked around his head and your sweet cunt in his face, what could be better than this?

"sit down, sweetheart." he commands.

"are you sure? what if i suff-" you were cut off by a squeal, wriothesley's large hands grabbed at your ass, shoving you down on his face completely.

wriothesley licks one thick strip up your pussy, from your hole to your clit before his soft lips wrap around the bud and pleasure shoots up your spine.

"o-oh... oh my god..." you moan, your hands grab at the headboard of the bed tightly, your knuckles turning white. you begin to rock your hips lightly, still nervous about hurting your boyfriend.

until wriothesley pulls away, peeking out between your thighs, looking unimpressed. "if you're going to ride my face, fucking ride it." he demands. "use me, i'm all yours, baby." then he dives back into your pussy, slurping obnoxiously.

you hesitate briefly, then think about his words and begin to truly ride his face and crying out loud. your clit bumps deliciously on his nose and his tongue slithers it’s way into your hole.

your hands soon leave the wooden headboard and makes their way down to wriothesley’s inky locks, pulling at the hair. “ah! so good! mmph!”

he groans into your pussy. your slick and his saliva was everywhere. on his nose, his lips, and it was dripping down his chin. god how he loved you, loves your pussy, your tits, and he loved the way you were riding his face so desperately.

“that’s it… that’s my fucking girl…”

୨୧ NEUVILLETTE

❥₊ ⊹ “you’re a messy little thing, aren’t you?” neuvillette chuckled. you were currently sitting half-naked on the edge of his oak desk in the palais mermonia. just wearing your white blouse, your panties and skirt were discarded and thrown somewhere in the room, your bare pussy was dripping on the wood of the desktop.

"you usually don't tease..." you pout, looking down at your husband though his eyes didn't quite meet yours. instead they were trained on your cunt.

"sorry, love." though it doesn't truly sound like he is. neuvillette lowers to face your bare bottom, his lithe fingers come forward and pull apart the lips of your pussy.

"so beautiful..." he mumbles before his tongue meets your clit then travels down to your hole. his tongue thrusts into you and he tastes your slick on it. "so good..." he groans.

neuvillette then starts to eat you out like he's starved. his movements which are usually precise and calculated are now messy, and erratic. you've never quite felt heaven like this and neuvillette hadn't tasted heaven until the first time he ate you out.

your hands thread themselves in his hair as you moan out loud and they pull his head impossibly closer to your core. "oh! mmf!" and you feel tears begin to cloud your vision.

he didn't care that you were making a mess out of him, and he didn't care about how your arousal was all over his desk or all over his face.

though there is a sudden tightness in his pants, and it becomes more and more obvious to him, neuvillette continues to let you use his mouth. to let you reach that orgasm you oh so deserved because he wanted to be the cause of it.

୨୧ AL HAITHAM

❥₊ ⊹ “tsk… you’re such a distraction…” al haitham feigns annoyance. he brings his hands up to your thighs and pries them apart. "can't even read a book in peace around you, can i?"

"ah! 'm sorry... i just really needed you, al haitham." you mumble looking down your body and the view breathtaking.

al haitham had his head leaning against your left thigh, pressing open mouth kisses that were getting closer and closer to where you needed him most. while his left hand was rubbing lazy circles against your puffy clit.

"i can tell... you're dripping on the couch." he sighs. al haitham likes to act like he's bothered, when in reality he had already read that book more then ten times over for a research paper. he was secretly more than happy to please you, though he won't admit that outright.

al haitham leans down and presses a kiss to your pussy, then his lips wrap around your clit and begins to suck on it. he liked to take his time eating you out, to savour it. to savour you. and that meant not making your cunt a sopping mess until you beg him for it. but he won’t tease you all that much today seeing how badly you needed him.

you moan out, one hand of yours coming up and grabbing your own breast. "t-thank you. love you, love you so much al haitham!" you babble.

"love you too, baby..." he murmurs into your pussy. soon, his long fingers meet where his mouth is pleasuring you and they make their way into your little hole, thrusting in and out.

you swallow back a loud sob, remembering you're not entirely alone in your boyfriend's house, as if the sounds of al haitham eating up all your sloppy pussy has to offer isn't loud enough.

al haitham's fingers were making your head spin along with the way his tongue was moving over your clit. his digits were grazing that sweet spot inside of you and the sound of your hiccups only spur him on more.

"please, please! al haitham 'm gonna cum!" you sob.

"do it." he pulls back for a moment, "cum on my face..." then he dives back into your cunt, his tongue and fingers now working overtime to make you orgasm.

your hips begin to grind against his mouth and your chest heaves. "i-i'm cumming! oh my god!" you cry out as you orgasm, hot flashes of white makes it way across your abdomen and you make a mess everywhere. your arousal covered al haitham's face, his hands and your quivering thighs.

"you're so messy..." al haitham says as he moves up to your face.

"sorry..." you apologize.

"don't." he says sharply, not wanting you to feel bad. his lips then meet yours, and you taste yourself on his tongue. "we're going to do that again and this time, you're going to be louder."

flseur © all rights reserved, do not repost, take inspo from my layouts or themes, translate, or claim as your own.

[afterglowsainz]

hi!💘could you do a lando x messi’s daughter smau , maybe the barcalona gp. but she’s besties with joao felix so she reluctant to speak to him because of the rumors of lando and magui(felix’s ex). sorry if it’s confusing🎀

barcelona | lando norris

summary: lando takes an interest in a special guest from the barcelona gp paddock but she has no interest in him

fc: steph bohrer

warning: lando is a simp in this, we love to see it!

a/n: this was perfect timing cause i’ve been wanting to write more about lando <333 also not a lot of messi content just cause i didn’t knew how to include everything and still make this short and sweet but i hope you enjoy it!

—

liked by bffusername, carlossainz55 and others

ynmessi race weekend with bestie #1 and new bestie #2 🏎

tagged joaofelix79 and carlossainz55

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username omg i didn’t knew you liked f1!!

username yn in a gp is everything i didn’t knew i needed

username okay yn i see you being a tifosi

ynmessi FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE ❤️❤️❤️

username so real girlie

username my two boyfriends with my girlfriend this is such a special day💞

joaofelix79 send me that pic i look good 😏

ynmessi don’t cringe me out joão

username yn in the ferrari garage makes sooo much sense

username right??? like i don’t know how to explain it but ferrari girls are also barcelona girls

bffusername never thought i see the day you’d be friends with a madridista🤨

ynmessi im letting that slide for now everyone has their flaws

carlossainz55 you’re the one with an issue if you’re supporting *that* club

ynmessi KEEP MY CLUB’S NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH

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ynmessi life in barcelona💫

tagged joaofelix79, pedri and leomessi

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username girl 😮‍💨😮‍💨

bffusername ughhh why don’t we just kiss

ynmessi well if you insist ☺️

username never beating the biggest culer allegations

username awww the picture of messi and her brothers so cute 🥰

username well girl DAMN

leomessi te quiero hija❤️ (i love you daughter)

ynmessi te quiero mil💘 (i love you a thousand)

username you’re UNREAL

carlossainz55 is that… a red bull cap… ???

ynmessi nooo it was pedri i swear!! forza ferrari❤️❤️

landonorris 🤠

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landonorris quick pit stop

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username sir aren’t you supposed to be in england in two days???

username now what the hell is he doing in barcelona

joaofelix79 👀

username VISCA EL BARÇA💙❤️

username lando culer confirmed

carlossainz55 is this your idea of a first date?

landonorris and she loved it sooo

ynmessi does this mean i turned you into a culer already? 🥰

carlossainz55 watch it

username LANDO AND Y/N WHAT

username well that definitely took a turn

liked by landonorris, joaofelix79 and others

ynmessi back at it again in monzaaa🍝

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username oh yeah they’re definitely dating

username bestie what happened i thought we were tifosi

ynmessi still are! just with a bit more papaya now

username is this their dating confirmation orrrr

username my favorite wag fr

carlossainz55 i feel personally betrayed that you’re in mclaren’s garage at ferrrari’s home race 😐

landonorris cry me a river

mclaren beautiful in papaya🧡 (liked by ynmessi)

username yn back in the paddock WE WON

username praying that yn at the paddock becomes a regular thing🙇🏽‍♀️

landonorris my love you’re so beautiful😍

ynmessi 🥰🥰🥰

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Panic at the Disco

Summary: When you call your brother to pick you up from the club, it's his best friend who answers.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader

WC: 1.3K

Warnings: Maybe slight panic attack, insinuated sexual harassment/assault

Part 2

Masterlist

You rush through the club in a hurry, bumping into God knows how many people as you search for the exit. The hot, stuffy air makes it even more difficult to breathe as you keep pushing through the crowd. You can feel the wetness of your tears run down your cheeks as you reach the exit, nearly running into the bouncer checking IDs outside. You stand close to him as you wipe your cheeks and sniffle, trying to calm yourself down while you rummage through your purse in search of your phone. Taking a deep breath, you call your brother.

You wait impatiently as the phone rings. He doesn’t answer, so you call again. And again. Eventually, after three tries, the phone is picked up. 

“Hello? Max?” You say rushedly.

You hear some noise on the other side. In your frenzy, you don’t realise it’s not your brother, not from the mere grumpy hello the phone is answered with.

“Can you come pick me up? Please?” The sheer panic you’re experiencing is clear in your voice. Lando can even hear your sniffling through the phone as you wipe your hand under your nose. 

“Y/N? Is that you? Are you crying?” He asks, much more awake now as he sits up from his position on the couch.

“Who’s this? Lando?” You realise now that you hear him speak; it's your brother’s best friend – to your frustration.

“Yes”

“Why are you answering my brother’s phone?” You ask annoyed.

“We were just hanging out, he fell asleep and-”

“You know what – it doesn’t matter. Can you tell him to come pick me up please?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m not sure, uhm, it’s called Palace, I think.” You sniffle, “You’ll send him to get me?” You ask hopefully.

“I’ll come get you myself. I’m just putting my shoes on, I’ll be there in a bit.” He says, putting your brother’s phone on speaker mode and stepping into his shoes.

“Lando you don’t have to come, just tell Max to come pick me up, please. I need him right now.” You say, frustrated that Lando wants to come. He’s not who you want and need at this moment; you need someone who you can trust, who’ll protect you and make you feel safe after what just happened. You need your brother, a close friend, or maybe even your father, but not Lando. Why can’t he understand that? You can feel your tears welling up again in frustration.

Lando ignores you, however. “Are you safe right now? You should try to find a group of people or something, stick to them until I get there, okay?”

“Lan-” He cuts you off, in a rush to get to you. 

“Do you want to stay on the phone? I’m getting in the car right now, I’ll be there in, like, eight minutes.”

“Lando, just send Max, please.”

“I’m already in the car. Do you want me to stay on the line, or not?” You hear the car revving in the background.

You sigh. Nevertheless, you’re relieved he’s on his way and you don’t have to stay here much longer. “That’s not necessary, Lando. I’m with the bouncer right now. Just come quick, please?” You’ve given up on the idea that your brother might come, Lando’s very much set in his ways.

“Of course, I’ll be right there.” Lando says firmly before hanging up.

Although you and Lando aren’t the best of friends, you get along well enough. Regardless, you get caught up in discussions quite regularly; both of you are passionate and stubborn in your opinions – it rarely happens that you and Lando do not end up being separated by your brother or a mutual friend. However, that you know exactly how to push each other's buttons doesn’t mean Lando doesn’t care about you. In fact, the opposite is true. Although he would never admit it, Lando has liked you for quite a while and cares for you deeply, even though he doesn’t generally show his feelings. And so, when you call him (well, not him specifically, but that doesn’t matter) crying and upset, he worries about you. He could’ve woken up your brother, who you obviously would have preferred over him, but he wants to be the one who’s there for you. He wants to be the one who protects you and keeps you safe – better yet, the one who makes you feel safe, if he could ever accomplish such a thing.

Lando exceeds his own expectations when he arrives at the nightclub in under five minutes. Already spotting you standing with the big, bulky bouncer, arms wrapped around yourself in an attempt to keep yourself warm in the cold, late night (or early morning) breeze. He carelessly parked his car on the side of the road, barely turning on the hazard lights before exiting the car. 

“Y/N! Are you okay?” He jogs towards the club entrance, concern showing on his face.

You lifted your head at the familiar voice yelling your name. Quickly thanking the bouncer who kept you company, you rushed over to the familiar boy. You had never been so happy to see Lando.

He pulled you into his arms as soon as you were within his reach. Cradling your head and brushing your hair with one hand, while the other pulled you closer by your waist. Although you initially wanted your brother to come, this was good too – you’d even go as far as to say you were enjoying it. Despite your differences, Lando’s presence (more specifically, his strong arms holding you tight) made you feel at ease and calmed you down. He relieved the tenseness of your body and you relaxed in his hold. Hiding your face in his neck and fisting the fabric of his shirt, you nestled yourself comfortably in Lando’s body and exhaled the breath you had been holding.

He buried his nose in your hair on the top of your head, breathing in your scent and smiling at the feeling of you snuggling into him. It felt right, so right, to be holding you like this. He whispers, “Are you okay?” You merely nod your head, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He questions further.

You stay silent, enjoying Lando’s strong hold on you. It makes you feel safe. Safe enough to share what happened in the club. “There was some random guy who thought he was entitled to my attention.” You mumble into his neck.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” He continues, already fearing the answer.

You let a silence fall before answering, “He did,”

Lando squeezes you tighter at the revelation. He’s not surprised a man ruined your fun night out.

You continue quickly, “But there were some girls who helped me, and I think they kicked him out. I’m not sure though, I left as soon as I could. Then I called Max, but he didn’t answer, and now…”

“I’m sorry,” Lando says, a pained expression on his face. “Men are shit.”

You let out a small laugh and Lando can barely avoid shivering at the feeling of your warm breath hitting the sensitive skin of his neck. Nevertheless, he smiles in accomplishment when he hears the sound, glad he could cheer you up.

“You want to go home? To my place, I mean, Max is there…”

“Yes,” You say into Lando’s neck, sighing before distancing yourself from him.

He kisses the top of your head before letting you leave his hold, “Let’s go then.” He says, pulling you along to his car, still tucked into his side.

– – – – –

Part 2

[makelemonade]

MY BOY ONLY BREAKS HIS FAVOURITE TOYS

men who absolutely love to break you- watching with absolute pleasure as you cry and thrash under him, whine about how it’s too much but he knows you can take it- you’re his good girl, aren’t you? such a good slut who is willing to do anything for him! so let him make you cum as many times as he wants <3

he loves to watch the way your eyes roll back, starting to go absolutely drunk on his cock as you begin to babble about it, drool leaking out the side of your mouth. Maybe to others it was disgusting but to him you looked absolutely gorgeous.

He loved how he made you like this- he made you this cock slut who can only fit around his cock. It drives him mad whenever you go to him, admitting your needs, begging to be filled up my his fat cock, because he knows he’s finally made you his offiical

You don’t been remember your own name when he fucks you, but that’s not a big deal, right? You shouldn’t think about yourself right now- only think about how good he’s fucking into you and all the cum dripping out of you <3

ALHAITHAM, AYATO, CHILDE, Diluc, WRIOTHESLEY, Neuvillette, Kaveh, XIAO, WANDERER/SCARAMOUCHE, KAEYA, Zhongli

[vitrines]

just had to resist the urge to be mean online (i did not actually resist the urge i'm just saying it where nobody will see it)