#“I can't remember his face or voice anymore but I can remember his taste and smell like it was yesterday”

[benetnvsch]

if I had a nickel every time I watched an anime where a character voiced by Patrick Seitz blows up a character voiced by Griffin Puatu I'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice-

[bbyhellfire]

eddie loses his hair tie at the most inconvenient moment (18+ only)

fem!reader, oral (r receiving), clumsy eddie, inspired by a twt p vid

It doesn’t take much to get you and Eddie going. 

Roaming eyes, gentle touches that last longer than necessary, a flirty joke. They all do the trick to get you tangling your limbs together, hungry mouths moving as if you're in some Hallmark movie. It isn’t long until one of you is pushed back onto Eddie’s messy bed. Sometimes it’s him, but today it’s you.

Listen.

Eddie's had a long day. His van is leaking coolant again, and Bev is threatening to give Corroded Coffin's Tuesday night to a Beatles cover band. Eddie is going through It, okay? He needs to be between your legs, needs his face buried in your pussy. It's what has him pulling you to the edge of his bed, pawing at your thighs to reveal your wet cunt to his thirsty gaze.

He must look ridiculous, like some Looney Tunes character, and he doesn't give a single shit. He leans forward, leaving a hasty trail of kisses from the inside of your knees up your thigh. Fuck, he can already smell you. He's already panting and he hasn't even done anything.

And then, a squeak.

Huh?

Not exactly the reaction Eddie is expecting. Pausing, he glances up to see your lips pressed together to stifle a giggle.

“Sorry, it's your hair. Tickles.” You explain, moving forward to rake your fingers through his curls.

“Hold on, I have a hair ti–,” He stops, looking down at his empty wrist.

Correction: he had a hair tie. Just this morning. Where did it go? That’s the third one he’s lost this week. How the hell do they just disappear?

He's about to stand to search his room before you tug on his hair for him to pause.

“Don’t worry about it,” Your voice is airy, giggly from his ticklish locks and the building pleasure in your core. You smile, taking your nails over his scalp before saying, "Just keep going."

You don’t need to tell him twice. 

He leans forward again, mouth open and tongue peeking out, ready for the first swipe against your cunt. And apparently, so is his hair. As he's tilting his head down to meet your pussy, his messy curls fall forward directly in front of his open mouth.

Eddie doesn't notice until he inhales an accidental mouthful of hair. The taste of smoke and V05 shampoo is startling, making him cough and gag, as he instinctively pulls away from you. It’s only when he's pulling at the strands stuck in his mouth does he remember that his boxers and jeans are still wrapped around his ankles.

He manages a quick “Oh shit,” before falling back, unable to catch himself because he’s still pulling his fucking hair from his mouth. With his throat stinging from the inhaled hair, he falls back on his bare ass, hard cock bouncing against his stomach.

Above him, you sit up with a gasp, your hand covering your mouth as you both stare at each other, wide-eyed with surprise. You don’t move, and neither does he, opting to stay still, trying to figure out what to do next. This isn’t his finest moment, but it’s not his worst either. At least he isn't choking on his hair anymore.

You snort. Your body shakes as you try to hold in your laughter, but it’s damn near impossible. “I’m sorry, babe."

He can't help but crack a smile. He adores your laugh, even if it’s at his expense. It is pretty funny, even if his cheeks are burning red. He sits up, placing a hand over your knee as you both laugh.

“Maybe I should get that hair tie."

“It’s okay,” You interrupt, taking his hand on your knee into your own. Intertwining your fingers, you pull him toward you. “C’mere, I'll help.”

He follows willingly, letting you tug him back to sit between your legs. Your hands travel over the sides of his head to collect his hair into a makeshift ponytail.

"Better?"

He answers your question by leaving a sticky stripe of his spit and your slick along your pussy. All the way from your dripping hole to your clit, he collects the tangy taste of you on his tongue before moving back up to your sensitive bud.

"Fuck, fuck, Eddie!" You gasp, hand tightening into a fist as he presses the tip of his tongue against your clit. Slurping and licking, he focuses on your clit as you push your hips up against his face. "More, please. I'm so close."

Groaning with his lips still wrapped around your clit, the vibrations making your legs shake as you come. And not once do you let go of his hair, holding the curly hair into a tight fist as Eddie licks you through your orgasm.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

summary: Logan has fun punishing you ;)

warnings: hard kink (don't like, don't read!), kinda dub-con (maybe?), unprotected sex, humiliation, rough sex, degradation, mean!logan, dacryphilia, crying, slight dumbification, spanking, creampie

~ last kinktober!! happy halloween! ~

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

You're a sobbing mess, face pressed against the couch cushions, your arm flailing around, clutching onto anything you can hold onto. Logan's back is pressed against yours, warm and hard, as he thrusts into you. He's feral like an animal and you can feel his cock stretch you painfully wide. 

"Lo–lo," you whimper, voice small, "Can't do this anymore," you sob, tasting the saltiness of your tears as your poor pussy is abused. Logan's hands fist your hair, pushing down as he grunts. 

"Can't take it, hm? Yes, you can. You're a slut remember. This is what you wanted, isn't it? This is what you fucking begged for when you were on your knees. Huh, you remember? Licking up my cock, staring up at me with those doe-eyes of yours," he pauses, growling, "What was it you said? You can handle it? Well, handle it then, honey."

You catch your breath, barely able to breathe as he fucks you hard. You're sobbing, unable to focus. Logan grins wolfishly, pulling you up by your hair as he leans in. His lips hit your ear and he whispers hoarsely, "We're gonna play a game now, can you do that for me?"

When you don't answer him he thrusts particularly hard.

"Yes, Logan, yes—" you whine, eyes blurry from your tears. You're staring at the wall now, trying your hardest to be good for him. His laugh in your ear makes you shiver. 

"I want you to count every thrust into your soaked pussy." You can hear his grin, "And if you miss one, I'll go even harder, do you understand me?"

You choke on a cry, not understanding why he's punishing you. You hadn't been that bratty. Logan just seems like he likes this; mocking you and making you squirm for him. He thrusts hard, hitting your cervix and you gasp. 

Apparently, the game had started because he slaps your ass. "One!" you cry, moaning loudly. You're slightly afraid your neighbors might hear you but Logan doesn't seem to care. He continues fucking into you, whispering dirty things in your ear and you struggle to count all his thrusts. He's so fast. His stamina is intense. 

"Four–ah–five, six, s-seven—"

"Louder. I want everyone to know how much of a slut you are." 

You cry, your body feels weak and you're happy he's holding you up because you couldn't do it yourself. Your mind goes hazy as you try and count. "thirteen, fourteen, ah—fifteen, s-sixteen—Logan—I- I can't," you sob, completely losing track and his thrusts become harder to the point that it's burning. You accept the pain, moaning louder. 

Logan's hand wraps around your jaw, groaning in your ear. "Filthy girl. Can't even listen. What am I gonna do with you? I have to teach you a lesson, huh? One your stupid little brain will understand." 

Your skin burns with embarrassment as tears prickle your eyes. His other hand roughly cups your breast and tortures your nipples. This is humiliating, being so powerless against him. You just cry softly, coming around him, body convulsing. You couldn't hold it anymore.

It just happened.  

Logan smirks. He doesn't care that you didn't ask for permission. After all, it gives him more ammunition. 

"Couldn't control yourself, honey?" 

You shake your head, tears streaming down onto his hand. He wipes his hand around your face, smearing your tears around and messing up your mascara. He chuckles.

"Please—t-too much."

Hearing your words, Logan grunts, spilling himself into your womb. He lets go, watching you fall forward again, and digs his nails into your hips. His thrusts slow, catching his breath and looking down at you. You're a complete mess; tears and snot coating your face as you lay there, completely used. Logan smirks to himself, pulling out and then plugging his cum inside you with his fingers. You whimper, too weak to squirm. 

"Keep it all in. Lose a drop and I'll make this worse for you," Logan says. The threat is empty considering he can see you're done. He's pushed you to your limit and you took it so well. Soothingly, he runs his other hand over your back. Once he's satisfied that you're keeping his cum inside, he walks over and caresses your cheek, truly wiping your tears away this time. 

"Shh," he says, kneeling next to you. You blink, eyes still hazy. He's still naked and he chuckles when you see your eyes wander downwards.

"Want more?" he teases.

You shake your head, whining. Logan laughs and kisses your head. "I know, honey. You're okay. You did so well for me," he says and strokes your hair. You sigh, relaxing in his arms as he praises you. You hum, needing more praise. Logan knows you do and he will happily oblige.

"Good girl," he whispers, kissing right next to your lips, smiling into your skin. 

You're always his good girl.

[bunnyrafe]

i need to smoke with stoner!rafe oh my god 😭😭😭 both of us high and horny that’s the dream

here’s the deal— i genuinely blacked out while writing this so apologies if it's all over the place. anyway, stoner!rafe is a bit of a fuckboy and also so mean sometimes… so basically just regular rafe but make him a burnout !!! toodles xoxo

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. stoner!rafe AU. f!reader, a touch of crybaby!reader, drug use, male masturbation, mentions of f. receiving oral / fingering, cum eating.

it always starts the same— rafe calls and practically begs you to come over no matter what you may be up to, and then he's rolling up a blunt within twenty minutes of you being at his place.

you'd be stupid to turn down a free smoke session, but you know what he's doing. you know his game, and you've been playing along with him for quite some time now. you wonder how many girls are on his roster. how many of them probably stay the night and go to sleep tucked in his arms and adorned in one of his hoodies just like you do...

"you're doin' that thing again," rafe grumbles before pulling a hit from the blunt, inhaling with a sharp sound and watching you pluck it from between his deft fingers.

your feet are resting in his lap while his large hand rubs up and down your legs, clearly savoring the feeling of your smooth skin against his palm. with each leisurely pass, his hand gets higher and higher up your plush thighs. his fingers could creep right into your shorts, and you wish he would just go for it because your cunt has been throbbing in your panties from the moment you saw him close the seam of the blunt with his tongue.

"doing what?" you ask rather dumbly as you come to your senses.

you barely recognize your own voice and you can’t help but wonder where the fuck rafe even managed to get weed this good.

"getting lost in your head—" he snorts, "is it the weed? can't keep up with me anymore?"

you roll your eyes, exhaling your last hit. seconds before your lips part to speak once again, “shut the fuck up.”

rafe grabs your face. the tips of his fingers dig into the pudge of your cheeks, almost making you whimper in pain but it's quickly numbed out thanks to the drugs in your system. his eyes flicker to your jutted lips, shaking your face that's in his grip— “you should watch that pretty mouth of yours…”

"or what?" you blubber out.

your famous last words.

you can barely remember how rafe managed to get you on your knees. your whole body is buzzing. from your lips to the soles of your feet, all while your knees ache as they press into the floor. you blink slow, watching rafe get his heavy cock out.

he squeezes his fist around his length and the tip nearly drools pre-cum all over his hoodie before he strokes himself slowly. the way your eyes follow the movement is nothing short of pathetic. along with the saliva that pools in your mouth— so eager to get another taste of him after so long.

“‘m not even sure if you deserve to have your throat fucked,” rafe huffs out. his voice has a rasp to it, the kind that sets off a fever in your already melting brain, “seems like more of a reward for nasty girls like you, hm?”

at that, you smush your face against his thigh, putting on your best pout. you don’t have to try very hard— “please, rafey…”

“nah— you’re gonna watch me get m’self off, and maybe if you’re good you’ll get somethin’ from me.”

you’re crushed. your eyes well up with tears, your tiny voice gets caught up in your throat, and you sniffle so loudly that rafe laughs down at you— he continues on, jerking himself off in the process. a groan crawls up his throat between his words, making your heart beat faster in both your chest and your cunt as he drawls on between puffy breaths. his heavy-lidded eyes trail down your trembling form, watching your thighs squeeze together, “bet that lil’ pussy’s so needy, too… coulda ate you out for hours if you jus’ watched your mouth.”

in the back of your mind you know he’ll take care of you later.

he’ll probably put on one of your favorite movies and finger you until you’re squealing and creaming in his lap as an apology for being so mean, but you can’t say that you’re hating it.

especially when he’s panting and whining about how he’s gonna cum a few moments later, right over your heated face. he’s so wound up just from watching you be needy for him, watching you cry and whine over not having his cock brutalizing your throat. and when he commands you to open your mouth so he can shoot his load on the soft, pink pad of your tongue you don’t hesitate for a single second, proving that you can be good for him…

“that’s a good fuckin’ girl,” he practically snarls the words out, milking every last drop out of his cock with a firm grip and sloppy strokes.

you mewl happily, reveling in both the praise and the taste of him.

yeah— you can’t be too upset.

[lecsainz]

OMGGGG!!!! 🩷🩵 Love your work! Can you do a Percy X (halfblood of your choice) reader and maybe affection headcannons? Like how he stares at you 24/7 and maybe him falling asleep on our shoulder and all that!!!!

BEAUTIFUL GIRL

parings: percy jackson x fem!reader

an: two weeks without a new episode, I can't take it anymore 😭😭😭

summary: the one where you and percy met at yancy academy, and what your relationship would be like.

( my last work for riodanverse || go to my main masterlist )

You met Percy at Yancy Academy, and well, you quickly became friends – best friends, to be precise, since your room was conveniently next to his.

When Grover arrived at the school, he became more than worried about finding two demigod kids together.

As you excelled in your studies – you LOVED studying – you decided to help Percy out. However, Percy always seemed too distracted, often catching him staring at you.

Percy looks at the notebook where you were scribbling math problems and realizes he hasn't paid attention to anything you were explaining for the past twenty minutes.

"So, um, how do you solve this math problem again?" He asks.

You point the pen at him with a stern expression. "Percy, we've been through this like ten times!"

Percy gazes at you with a mischievous smile on his lips because, by the gods, he finds you incredibly beautiful with the braid you decided to wear today.

"Sorry, got distracted. You look really nice today." Percy says, shrugging.

"Focus, Percy! We need to get through this." You roll your eyes, but your cheeks are flushed, and Percy still finds it adorable.

You throw the pen cap at Percy, lightly hitting him on the head when you realize he wasn't paying attention again.

"Ow! What was that for?" He puts his hand where the cap hit him and pretends to be in pain.

"For not paying attention! Now, let's get back to work." You stick out your tongue.

Laughing, Percy tries to throw the pen cap back at you, but you quickly dodge, and poor Grover ends up being the target.

You two became an inseparable duo, like shadows to each other, and constantly causing Grover massive headaches.

Percy would talk about you to his mom.

Percy hesitated for a moment before dialing the number. As his mother picked up on the other end, he launched into a torrent of words about you.

"Hey, Mom, you won't believe what happened today. So, there's this new girl, Y/N, and she's amazing. Seriously, she's the smartest person I know, and she's always helping me out with my studies. And she's got this incredible sense of humor. We're like a team, Mom, inseparable. I don't know how I'd get through the day without her."

Sally listened with a gentle smile on her face, recognizing the familiar signs of her son being captivated. She knew Percy well enough to notice the subtle shifts in his tone and enthusiasm.

"Percy, it sounds like you really enjoy spending time with this Y/N," Sally said, her voice warm and knowing.

"Yeah, Mom, it's like... I don't know. She's just different, you know? Everything feels better when she's around. I can't explain it."

Sally chuckled softly, recognizing the telltale signs of young love. "Percy, sweetheart, sounds like you might be developing feelings for this girl."

Percy stammered for a moment, realizing that his mother had caught on. "I, uh, Mom, we're just friends. Really good friends."

Sally's laughter echoed through the phone. "Alright, Percy. But remember, love has a way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it.”

When you first heard about blue food, you didn't believe Percy's words, leading to a heated argument. It all ended when Percy pulled out a pack of blue cookies from his backpack. To your surprise, they turned out to be the best cookies you'd ever tasted.

During one of your study sessions, Percy calling you a beautiful girl, and the nickname sticking because you blushed every time he called you that.

Percy only realized he liked you when they arrived at the camp and you wanted to help Percy defeat the Minotaur, but he wouldn't allow it because he had already lost his mother and couldn't bear to lose his girl.

He told Grover not to let you follow him and instructed him to take you safely to camp.

The air in the forest was thick with tension as Percy and you faced off against the looming figure of the Minotaur. Determination burned in your veins as you gripped your weapon tightly, ready to fight alongside Percy.

But before you could make a move, Percy's voice cut through the silence, firm and commanding. "Grover, take Y/N back to camp. Keep her safe," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your heart sank as you realized what he was saying. "Percy, I can help. We can fight this thing together," you protested, your voice trembling with emotion.

"I need you to stay safe, Y/N," Percy said, his tone unusually severe. "Grover will take you to camp. I can't lose you."

Tears welled up in your eyes, the raw emotion of the situation hitting you like a tidal wave. "I can't just stand by and do nothing while you face that monster alone."

Percy shook his head, a mixture of frustration and fear in his gaze. "Y/N. I can't risk losing you. Not after what happened to my mom."

A heavy silence settled between you two, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Percy cupped your face gently, his eyes searching yours. "I need you to trust me, okay? Grover will take care of you."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you nodded reluctantly. "Just promise me you'll be safe, Percy."

He gave you a solemn look before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. "I promise. Now go with Grover. I'll find you after this is over."

Grover approached, his expression mirroring the somber mood. "We should go, Y/N."

After that, you swore to yourself that the next time you saw Percy, you would tell him you liked him. That seemed like the smartest thing to do.

As Percy stirred awake, his eyes met yours, and a small smile played on his lips. "Hey, beautiful girl," he greeted, a newfound warmth in his tone.

You blushed at the endearing nickname he had given you, but concern soon took over. "I thought I was going to lose you," you admitted, holding a small cup of ambrosia-infused nectar.

His expression softened, his hand reaching for yours. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

Relief washed over you, and you laughed, playfully nudging his shoulder. "Good. Because there's something I need to tell you."

Percy raised an eyebrow, curious. "What's that?"

He looked at you with curiosity, encouraging you to continue. With a deep breath, you confessed, "I... I really like you."

Percy's eyes lit up, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "You do?" he asked, as if surprised by the revelation.

You nodded, a shy smile gracing your lips. "Yeah, Percy, I really do."

"Well, beautiful girl, I think you're stuck with me now," he declared, a playful glint in his eyes. As you leaned in closer, he gently pulled you to lie beside him on the bed. When you rested your head against his chest, Percy winced in pain.

"Careful," he joked, "I just survived a Minotaur. Your head might be more dangerous than that."

You chuckled softly, and Percy couldn't help but smile despite the discomfort. "You know," he mused, "your laughter is my favorite sound in the whole world."

[7seas-of-ryy]

Come Back To Me

Author’s Note: Italics are flashbacks! Grumpy x Sunshine! No shenanigans in this one! I'm sorry!

Summary: You had always been the positive one in the IC but one mission can change everything. Set during the war with Hybern!

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of torture, let me know if I need to add any others :)

"Hey, I brought you something to eat." Azriel barely whispered as he entered your room.

You looked his way but said nothing, then turned your head back to what you were looking at. The view of the city from your room was always gorgeous, but now it was just something to for you to stare at while you struggled to get through the days.

Disappointment flooded the shadowsinger when you made no move to grab the food.

It had been months of this. Months of him trying to get you back to how you used to be. It seemed you made no improvement but he still tried.

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"Azzzzzz" You called out in a sing-song voice.

"What now?" He grumbled out.

He was trying to do work, frustrated he couldn't find a solution for Rhysand. And being holed up in the library was not helping his mood.

"You have to try this! I picked it up at the bakery and it is delicious!" You told him with pure excitement, not letting his attitude alter your mood.

You never let anyone get in the way of your mood. Happiness seemed to be easy for you. Glass half full was definitely how you viewed life. Azriel envied that.

Without waiting for a reply from the male, you held up the pastry to his mouth.

"I can feed myself." He spoke and gave you a look.

Instead of replying, you put the pastry in his face again. He rolled his eyes yet took a bite of the treat.

It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. His eyes immediately shut and groaned. That was what you loved, seeing these small moments where he wasn’t worried about saving everyone.

You could see the frustration fade from his face, replaced by awe of how amazing the baked good was.

"You can have the rest! I'll get out of your hair so you can get back to work. Oh! I almost forgot, I also got you this coffee, let me know if you need any help!" You told him as you made your way to the exit.

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The spymaster felt useless. It seemed there was nothing he could do for you... until an idea came to him.

He got to the bakery as fast as possible and bought the same pastry that you had bought him all those years ago. He grabbed himself a coffee and made his way back to you.

After knocking on your door to let you know he was coming in, he walked over to you.

"Guess what I got you!" He said with a smile, "Its one of those pastries that you love so much!"

He held it in front of you and you didn't even look his way.

Suddenly his apetite was gone. He didn't think it was possible for his heart to hurt anymore than it currently did. He kissed the top of your head and let you be.

Without another thought, he went to find Rhys.

"Help her. I don't care what you have to do, help her right now." Az pleaded.

"You know I can't do that. She hasn't asked me to and I don't do that without consent." Rhys told him.

"This is all your fault! You should have stopped her! Forbid her from using herself as a distraction! She is a shell of herself because of you!" Az was now shouting, letting his emotions take over.

"Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I wanted to leave her there?" Rhys shouted right back.

He was hurting from all of this too, everyone in the IC was. They had saved you and yet it seemed everyone was mourning the person you once were.

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He could hear you giggling before he saw you. As he entered his room, he saw you standing with your hands behind your back and a giant grin on your face.

Az eyed you suspiciously and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What're you doing in my room?" He questioned and his voice was rougher than he wanted it to be.

"Do you remember your leathers that ripped during the last mission we were on?" You asked the male.

He nodded his head in response, waiting for you to continue.

"I fixed them!" You said, revealing the repaired leathers that had been behind your back.

"I sewed them up and reinforced the seam!" You told him with such excitement.

His eyes softened slightly and he wanted to reach out and hug you but he couldn't let himself. He wouldn't let himself get too close to you, couldn't handle the pain of another loved one getting hurt.

"Thank you," He spoke bluntly then cleared his throat, "What were you laughing at?"

"A few of your shadows and I were just thinking about how you ripped them. I can't believe your leg slipped and you did the splits!" You let out another giggle.

He tried to fight it but a small smile made it's way to his face at your joy.

"Well, thank you again." He spoke quickly before you noticed his grin.

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He looked down at his clothes as he sat next to you in your room, there were small holes and rips all over them.

Normally you repaired them without him asking. He told you that you didn't have to but you assured him you wanted to. Now, he refused to let anyone else fix his clothes.

"Mor refuses to be seen with me in public." Azriel told you with a small laugh.

"She says I look homeless with all these rips in my clothes. But I don't care, I don't trust anyone else to sew my shirts besides you." He spoke again with a smile.

You still stayed completely still, staring at the city below. You felt hollow. It didn't matter that you were still alive, you were dead as far as you were concerned. There was no way to continue life after everything that had happened.

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It was supposed to be simple, meet with Eris, gather information on Hybern and return to the Night Court. The four of you weren't expecting a trap.

As you entered the old building to meet Eris, you could sense something was off. Your suspicions were confirmed when one wrong step set off a trap. Arrows, ash wood arrows shot out from all directions. Luckily you weren't hit by any. Two hit Rhys, one in his shoulder and one in his wing. One hit Feyre in her leg. And four...four hit Azriel; two in his wings, one in his side and one in his leg.

You ran to Az to help him, seeing he had the worst wounds.

"Hey hey, you're ok. I'm going to get you home and we can heal you up, ok?" You told him, giving him a smile that didn't reach your eyes. You forced your tears away, not willing to let him think you were worried.

He loved that smile. He was dying and yet all he could think about was how much your smile meant to him.

As you were trying to break the arrows so you could pull them out of him, you noticed his face pale. And then you heard it, Hybern's soldiers.

The trap must have alerted them and they would be here any minute.

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Rhys had told Az that you drank a few sips of water and ate a tiny bit. As soon as he got the news, he was running to your room. You hadn't responded to anyone at all yet but he seemed to be filled with a new hope.

So, he sat here talking to you and couldn't keep a smile off his face.

"I heard you got some food down, I'm proud of you." He gently offered his words.

He stayed with you for the rest of the day, talking to you about any and everything. He had never spoken so much in his life.

Months passed after that with no more improvements in your condition, it seemed you would never get better. He knew he fell in love with you no matter how hard he tried to stop it, so he fought like hell to hold onto whatever hope he had.

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You dragged Az with all your strength over to Rhys and Feyre. She seemed to be doing ok despite the arrow still sticking out of her thigh. She had pulled the arrows out of Rhys but he was still very hurt.

"Are you ok to winnow?" You asked Rhys.

"I think so, but I won't be able to carry all three of you." He spoke through pained breaths.

"You don't need to. Just get Feyre and Az out of here." You commanded your High Lord.

You knew that if they stayed, you would all be dead. Rhys couldn't carry all of you in his condition, you just hoped he would listen to what you told him to do.

"What? No, how will you get out?" Azriel whispered from the ground.

"I have a plan." You told him.

"You three can't fight, you will die if you stay here. Winnow them out and get Az to a healer." You told Rhys through your mind.

He seemed to be going back and forth in his head, trying to figure out a different way. He gave you a weary look.

"There's no other way. I'll be ok, you have to go now. They're almost here." You added.

The soldiers came running in, ready to attack. You ran right at them, fighting them so they couldn’t get to the other three. You could hear Az screaming to stay as Rhys grabbed him and winnowed out.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

He had been drunk for three days straight at this point. He welcomed the numbness after all the agony he has felt. Once it was night time, he made his way to your room and sat down outside of your door to sleep, just like he did every night in case you needed him.

In the morning, Feyre passed by your door. Az was still asleep and smelled of booze.

She quietly snuck past him and went into your room.

"Hey, I'm not sure what to say or do to help you. But I wanted to let you know how hard Azriel is trying. I mean...you know that but I just want you to realize how much he loves you. How much we all love you. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about what happened, I wish it had been me instead... but you need to know that Azriel is drowning. He is drowning without you. I have never seen him like this and I think we might lose him for good. If you don't have the strength to fight for yourself, please… fight for him." Feyre pleaded with you.

You didn't respond but what she said stuck with you. You had tried everything but it didn't matter, you couldn't find the strength to help yourself. Maybe it would be easier to find strength for the one you love.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

"We just got word. Y/N is alive and we have her location." Rhys spoke quickly.

Azriel shot up from his spot, getting his weapons ready instantly.

As soon as everyone was set, they left to rescue you. After a couple hours, they found you. You were bloody and bruised all over, chained up. Tears welled up in Azriel's eyes but he focused on saving you. He flew you home and you showed Rhys everything.

Rhys saw how you were tortured, starved, and beat every day. He saw how they questioned you about the Night Court and you never gave up anything. You were held captive for three months…he wasn’t sure how you survived.

After they saved you and found out everything you went through, Azriel helped you bathe. You never talked, just nodded or shook your head and you never looked up. He was so grateful you were safe and back with them but he sure did miss your smile.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It was a beautiful morning, you sat watching the orange and pink sky as the city woke up. There was a knock at the door and Az walked in. He didn’t speak as he set a tray of breakfast foods and coffee down. You didn’t even look over at him but not because you were still checked out. No, this time it was because you couldn’t pull your eyes from the beauty of the sunrise.

You aren’t exactly sure why but you felt something crack inside of you, this was the first time since you were taken that you felt something positive. It was the first time you wanted to live to see these pink and orange hues again.

When Azriel looked over at you he realized there were tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Are you ok?! What’s wrong!?” He panicked, checking everywhere for threats.

“It’s beautiful.” You choked out in between sobs, pointing at the sunrise.

He let out a breath he had been holding in and visibly relaxed. He sat next to you and pulled you close. You leaned into him and he put his arm around you. Neither of you talked, just enjoyed watching the sky come to life in front of you.

He looked down at you after some time had passed and saw the faintest smile on your face. It was barely there but he saw it and that was all that mattered.

“It’s breathtaking.” Azriel stated.

You shook your head in agreement, but what you didn’t know was that he wasn’t talking about the view, he was talking about you.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

“Please please please!” You begged Azriel.

“You woke me up at 4am to watch the sunrise?!” He mumbled with a look of irritation on his face.

“You have to see it! I promise it’ll be worth it!” You continued to beg.

“Fine but I’m not going to be happy about it.” He grunted as he got out of bed, following you to the balcony.

You pulled him down next to you, the pure excitement and adoration you had for something as simple as a sunrise made the spymaster’s heart clench.

The both of you sat and watched the sunrise and you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Isn’t it so beautiful?” You asked him without taking your eyes from the sky.

“It really is.” He responded without taking his eyes from you.

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[romanoffsbish]

A Master Lesson in Patience

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Request | Natasha’s plans to spend her morning wrapped up with you are interrupted, but truth be told, that only made the climax sweeter | WC: 1,536

Warnings: Subby brain wave - Needy R.

Smut: Mommy (N) | Dove (R) | Somno (CNC) | Fingering -> Fisting (R) | Restraints (Spreader/Ties) | Teasing | Overstimulation(Punishment-Vibrator) | Orgasm Denial | Dry Humping -> Thigh Riding (N)

"I'm gonna stop if you don't cum," Natasha smirked at the desperation in your eyes. It wasn't fair, but she wanted to test your trust in her, but really she was testing your patience.

The redhead had no intention to leave you in an unsatisfied state. Actually, she'd had no original plan to leave at all. It was her day off and she was spending it on the self care she was encouraged to take by a relaxed Fury.

——

Pleasuring you endlessly was the most euphoric thing she could do. It always made her feel better after a long day, coming home to you and a home cooked meal never get old. Especially not when she kept the spark alive by eating you out on the same table for dessert.

Today though she chose to wake you up with a mind blowing display of head, she had your legs trembling before your eyes even opened. You woke up to the sound of your own moans, involuntarily leaving your throat as she gave your cunt the tongue lashing of a life time.

Then she pulled away abruptly, your hips thrashed of their own accord and you cried. Natasha shushed you with her thumb in your mouth as she'd answered the work call, your tongue swirled over the coarse tip, slightly tasting your essence as she spoke on the phone.

You were oddly content to have this break, it gave you time to wake up so you could enjoy the glorious moment with more of a conscious build up. Her voice was jumbled, like when you watch a cartoon and the adult's conversations are unintelligible. The kids didn't get it, and neither do you, as she was blurred above you.

"... I was in the middle of something extremely important," she yelled down at the receiver, saying exactly what she wanted to to the man who just screwed the both of you. Ironically taking your chance at being screwed into the mattress anytime soon. "Oh detka..."

You felt the sickeningly sweet sigh on your face and your eyes glistened. "Natty please..."

The redhead placed a kiss to the corner of your lips, teasing you as two of her fingers slid into your warmth, where her tongue just resided.

The threat weighed playfully on her tongue, and just as your walls began to flutter she made sure you knew your chances were slimmed.

Especially when she increased her speed while calmly saying: "I have to go sign a paper. Fury said it can't be electronically, and I would've told him to fuck off but if I don't do it an innocent man loses his life over a mistake a rookie made under my supervision. Still tempted to say fuck it, but I actually think it's the perfect opportunity to teach you dove."

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, much to the woman's amusement. When she only smiled wider you resigned to glaring at her. You knew this was a test. Natasha's been training you that total patience is key. "Only good girls can touch mommy," she'd purr, and seeing as that's the only way you could cum anymore, with her skin to yours as she took your breath away with her insistent kiss, you had been struggling to remember that rule.

Just like now, you saw the mocking way she pouted down at you, cruelty etched into the amused cracks of her downturned expression. It would be nothing for you to cum in the thirty seconds you now had left on her flashing watch if only she would remove her shirt and kiss you rough. So in an expected movement you pulled the redhead down with force, your hand held her face to yours while your other slid a hand beneath her shirt to squeeze her soft breast.

When she didn't pull away and allowed you to take exactly what you needed you already knew what was coming. It both ruined and improved your high as your body was spasming wildly.

"Oh my little dove," she purred humorously against the skin of your neck as you caught your breath. "So impatient," she tutted while her fingers continued to curl within your slick depths. "I have to go now, but don't worry."

You were indeed petrified, and she was living for the way your thigh tensed under the cool metal brushing across it. "Don't cum while I'm gone," she taunted further. Watching the way you rolled your eyes at her as she got dressed.

"Goodness dove, I thought you would have learned by now," she shook her head and finished securing your arms to the bed. "Don't roll your eyes," she commanded as she secured your legs in the spreader. Then she flashed you a smile, and winked as she slid the dial up on her phone. "Or test mommy's patience."

"You're mean," you croaked, and she chuckled hotly, "Only because you were naughty first."

Then she was gone, and you were in shambles.

The signature should have only taken her twenty minutes if she rode her bike, but she took her Cadillac instead, reving up the engine so you knew your fate. Then she was gone for a length of time you could no longer register.

Natasha sat in your driveway, a neapolitan milkshake in hand with her phone propped up on the dash. Her eyes swirled with delight at the sight of you convulsing on the soaked bed, your eyes screwed shut as the overstimulation on your walls rarely ceased. While she waited for the paper earlier she was playing with the speed. Every time you came close to release you'd cry, desperate for her to kiss you dizzy.

In those moments she would sympathize, and give you about three ten second intervals of stillness. Then she'd turn it up slowly as her boredom took over, she'd force moans out of you again as she ran it up to it's quickest speed, your hips rose and so did her cunts heartbeat.

Yet she took her time getting home, on her way she stopped for fuel: a small fry and a shake. While sat in the drive thru she listened to you through the speakers of her car. The lady handing her the food was red in the face as Natasha left the line with a smug smirk.

Natasha's own cunt pulsed with need at the thought of someone else hearing you. Knowing damn well that you'd shrivel up like a rollie pollie under the same knowledge. Her bashful little dove, overstimulated to the point of tears, and still in such desperate need of a release.

The redhead turned her seat warmer on low and watched you crying as her hips rocked. She dipped her fries into the shake and mindlessly ate them all down as she felt the coil in her stomach tighten. She was so close, as were you, but only one of you could cum; neither did. 

Natasha stilled her hips and bit her lip hard. The woman was a masochist, if that wasn't obvious, but moreover she was a romantic. If she was going to climax, it would be with you.

The redhead raced up the stairs, leaving the greasy trash in her car, and stripping off her clothes on the way to you, leaving behind a scattered mess of fabric. As she entered the room she moved just as swiftly, she ripped the vibrating egg from within your cunt and replaced it with her fingers, and you screamed as the intense vibration moved to your clit.

Pressed directly into the bundle so that your vision went white before fading into stars. The redhead kissed you hard, the condensation on her fingers chilled your skin and you gasped. The woman wasted no time on slipping her tongue into your mouth and grazing over your aching teeth as her cunt pressed into you. You both moaned as your releases hit, you came around her fingers, well maybe, you almost thought it was her entire fist, but you were practically numb and rightfully confused.

Then you felt her rip away from your lips and you both glanced up to see her soaking hand.

"Holy fucking shit," she chuckled breathlessly, opening her hand to watch as strings of your arousal connected her fingers. "You are absolutely filthy detka. My entire fist." You laid there with your mouth agape as she proudly marveled at the sight of your sticky mess.

The redhead greedily cleaned her hand, and then generously shared the wealth as she leaned her body against yours and kissed you. It was sloppy, and full of the teasing love that made your very worlds spin around. Natasha needed you more than she'd ever admit, but you would always feel it. In her kiss, or the way she softly cleaned you up, and cuddled after.

Or with the words she whispered when she pretended to think you were asleep, knowing the whole time you weren't: "I love you Y/N." It was just a front, because she'd already let that slip the first time she took you to her bed. But at your closed wedding, she only said: "I do."

And you do too, love her wholeheartedly.

—

[angelbwrry]

needy. satoru.

cw 𐙚 drabble, pregnant! reader, leaking tits,riding, cream-pie, strong language. gojo kinda has a pregnancy kink . . . minors shoo.

gojo couldn’t take it anymore. the way his needy cock is pressing against his checkered pajama pants, he’d tried to contain himself but he just couldn’t. the sight of your fat pussy lips devouring that thong, the way you’re wearing one of his shirts because your round belly makes it hard to wear anything else, the way your breasts have doubled in size and are always leaking—it all drives him insane. he hates to bother you, especially since you toss and turn so much trying to find the perfect position, but he has to.

you were pretty before pregnancy, but now? god, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. he swears your hips have spread and your ass has doubled in size; this baby is doing wonders for you. the way your body has transformed, the fullness of your curves, it’s all too much for him to handle. his mind races with thoughts of you, his desire building with every glance.

“so f’cking wet!” he groans, his head lulling back against the pillows as you ride his twitching cock. his hands grip your hips tightly, feeling the slickness of your arousal coating him. you can see the pleasure etched across his face, his eyes half-closed in bliss.

you lean forward, your breasts swaying with each movement, and he can't resist reaching up to cup them. his fingers knead the soft flesh, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. you moan, the sound mingling with his own groans, creating a symphony of desire.as you roll your hips, you can feel every inch of him buried deep inside you, stretching you in the most delicious way. the friction, the heat, it’s all consuming. you move faster, your movements becoming more erratic as the pleasure builds. his hands slide down to your waist, guiding you, encouraging you to take him even deeper.

“s’ch a pretty pussy baby, now i remember why i got you pregnant” he pants, his voice strained with need. you can feel him throbbing inside you, his cock twitching with every thrust. the sensation is overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.“mm’ fucking my pregnant pussy s-so g-good,” you whine leaning down ,capturing his lips in a searing kiss. your tongues tangle, the taste of him intoxicating. his hands slide up your back, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss.

as the pleasure intensifies, you break the kiss, gasping for breath. your movements become more urgent, each thrust bringing you closer to the climax you both crave. his hands grip your ass, helping you move faster, harder. the room is filled with the sounds of your passion, the wet slap of skin against skin, the desperate moans and gasps. “i’m gonna cum,” you whisper, your voice trembling with the intensity of your approaching orgasm. he looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust, and nods.

“cum on me sweetheart, it’s yours,” he urges, his voice rough with desire.

with one final thrust, you feel yourself shatter, the pleasure ripping through you like a tidal wave. you cry out, your body convulsing around him, milking his cock as he follows you over the edge. his hands grip you tightly, holding you close as he spills inside you, the warmth of his release filling you.

[eccentricallygothic]

| Champagne Showers |

How you welcome Pedri home after a win… 

Warning(s): Boob play, champagne play, d/s overtones, groping, unprotected p-in-v, dick riding, dirty talk, biting, nipple play, choking. MDNI. 

. . . 

Of course, you cannot attend all of Pedri's games.

So you have your own way of making it up to him when you can't due to whatever obligation that hindered you in doing so.

The apartment is quiet and dimly lit when he enters it with his bag in one hand as he locks the door with the other. He is so tired at this time that though he faintly remembers what happens at home -like it doesn't anyways- when you can't come to the stadium, his body is cold and hunched as he spins on his heels before taking his cap off. Pedri doesn't get to take a lot of steps before he is forced to a halt when his lowered eyes fall on your bare feet that stand a short distance away.

“Felicidades cariño” your voice is low as you congratulate him in Spanish, a soft get playful smirk on your lips as you twirl the champagne bottle in your hand, clad in nothing but one of his old jerseys. 

Pedri is too tired, cold, outside and impatient for the usual teasing in moments like these. 

An actual glug sounds from your boyfriend as the oxygen darts from his lungs upon you smoothly sliding the jersey off your body and away from your face, the action causing your hair to ruffle in what is to Pedri the most perfect way.

His belongings hit the floor at the same time as the only article of clothing you had on. Pedri's body sparks to life just like that. He leaps in your direction like a starved animal who will dance any way you want just so he can be allowed to feed. You softly snicker as you cup one side of his still flush face -that tries to squish itself into your now bare boobs with an exhausted desperation for any kind of proximity- with your free hand and teasingly click your tongue, walking him backwards to bring him to the living room at least because what you plan to do to him he cannot take while standing or kneeling in this condition.

Or so you think.

He grunts when he has to walk without being granted anymore than your hand framing one side of his face. 

“Patience, honey” you tease seductively and push the gasping, swallowing, grunting and mindless mess of a primal male onto the couch by a gentle nudge to his chest that usually doesn't give if his legs aren't worked like on game nights. “Now,” you step closer to him, your knees touching. “What's a celebration without champagne, am I right, babe?” 

“You—”

You softly shush him as you climb on his tired thighs and straddle them, using your free hand to push his shirt off. “Tonight is all about you, champ” you seal the reassurance with a warm and intimate kiss in which you let your tongue taste his bubblegum flavoured lips. Your fingertips graze his bare, slightly hairy chest and goosebumps rise on his skin as a result. Pedri hisses into the kiss and you feel his erection poke the underside of your mound. “Just let me take care of you, yeah?” You whisper once the two of you part. Your boyfriend is naturally a care giving person with dominant tendencies so usually it is him who looks after you but you figure that even he needs to be coddled sometimes.

Pedri just nods because he is too tired to speak but his darkened eyes watch you with an excited anticipation. You lower your hips against his and grind your crotches together with serpent-like motions of your hips that he cannot help but reach for and grope as he growls out rough curses in his mother tongue.

“Fuck, vida,” his gaze has resettled on your boobs and the only reason he hasn't acted on impulse yet is because he doesn't want to ruin whatever you have planned. “You're too good at this— oh!” So you treat him by curling a hand on the back of his head and pushing his face into your chest before wiggling the swells against his cheeks so they softly smack them. Pedri moans out loud at that and lifts his hips to meet yours that he digs his trimmed nails into and spreads your ass cheeks.

“So strong, cariño” you praise him as your own nails scratch his scalp and he moans again. “Oof, you're gonna bust my pucker if you keep kneading my ass like that” he only squeezes you harder at that and your grinding against him causes a velvet pleasure to seep up your sexes and into the pits of your stomachs simultaneously. 

“Good.” His growl nearly makes you succumb to his dominant energy that is present even with you on top of him. “Now give me that fuckin' champagne” you whimper at his blunt words and obediently start pouring, your hips churning at the thought of how you had foolishly thought that today would be the day you would dominate him only to have him direct you at your own game. 

You are just a little girl after all. 

His precious.

And just like that, in a matter of moments, Pedri has you writhing and quivering on his cock as you sheathe his cock within your tight, balmy walls each time your clammy petals clap into his heavy sack. He is a crazed beast as he laps away at your boobs, audibly slurping and glugging the champagne from off your swells that he has decorated with soft bites, one hand toying with your sensitive nubs to make your vagina blink around him with each twirl of his fingers whilst his other hand gives you a starting smack on your ass to make you pound yourself back on his cock each time all the pleasure in your chest begins to numb your brain. 

“Mm, doll, you make the champagne taste better” you throw your head back and moan as the movement of your hips causes for your sloshy cunt to make embarrassingly loud noises around his cock. It is like it's a competition between his mouth, your throat and where your sexes meet to see which one can make the more humiliating sound. “That's it, baby. Keeping fucking yourself pretty on my dick like a good girl.”

Pedri's dark hair sticks to his forehead from the sweat and the champagne that he instructs you to spill over your tits once more. A cry crackles out of your throat when he bites a bruising imprint of his teeth on purpose as his guiding hand makes your pussy slide so deep down his cock that you feel his tip graze against your innards but the feeling only makes you moan louder. His fat balls test the limits of your tiny entrance as they try to intrude each time your inside stretch to welcome his twitching cock once more. The male sucks, nibbles, pinches, pulls, spanks and even momentarily wraps his hand around your throat towards the end to give you that delicious burn in your lungs that always makes your pussy relax enough for his sack to help itself into your cavern, your position only aiding his intentions. Your boobs slap into his arms as he does so, the pace at which you are tossing yourself up and down his cock making your head spin while the lack of oxygen takes to faltering your vision with neon shapes.

Champagne flies all around the two of you but your boyfriend doesn't seem to care how the golden droplets sit on his thick hair or lashes because he is too busy suckling away at your nipples to dry them so he can have you supply him with more. And he is so focused upon doing so that he gasps into your skin from now allowing himself an interval to breathe. The grunts and wheezes only add to the vibrations against your skin which in turn tighten your sopping cunt around his choking cock even more.

Even when Pedri stuffs you full of his creamy climax long after you've already had yours and now uneasily whine and curl against him, he simply gets up with a protective arm around your back so he can take you to the bedroom for more.

He can do this for hours. 

Tired or not. 

MASTERLIST

. . .

I am so beyond tired but that has never stopped me before. This was supposed to be top!reader, idk what happened midway lmfao. Pedri's BDE ig. Real proud of my man rn though <3 

[neiptune]

i got nothing to believe unless you're choosing me

cw: 2k wc, blank blogs don't interact, hurt no comfort (ish), something is wrong and tobio can't quite put his finger on it, excuse the angst i promise i like him

Kageyama Tobio has never been particularly skilled at picking up on social cues but he’s certainly learned how to read your cues. It doesn’t mean he knows how to properly voice his concerns.

Your shoulders are tense when he describes how the training is going in agonizingly specific detail over dinner, the inflection clothing your good morning and have a good day hasn’t been particularly warm or affectionate lately, even when his body felt heavy from muscle fatigue, as if he was trying to move through mud, but he still suggested a comfortable movie night on the couch, you refused and went to bed early because you were tired. What could be possibly tiring you?

Tobio doesn’t mean to be an asshole but knows he can easily come off as one, so he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t get annoyed when you anticipate his usual goodbye kisses by briefly pressing your lips to his cheek, doesn’t investigate further when you start suspiciously timing your morning showers just perfectly to miss the exact moment he usually heads out. You still make him breakfast and pack his lunch and reply to his texts and pick up when he calls.

But you barely touch him anymore and it’s with a heavy heart that Tobio realizes that it’s almost never him that initiates physical contact anyway. It’s easy to melt in your hands and nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck and tighten his arms around your frame once you climb on top of him or gently cradle his face or start running your fingers through his hair.

You ask questions and reply when he asks about your day, friends, family, but you don’t smile as often and when you do it doesn’t even reach your eyes. He doesn’t remember the last time he heard your laugh.

There’s a weird feeling infiltrating his heart and it sucks that Tobio only realizes something is wrong when focusing becomes increasingly hard. He doesn’t see the ball or the court just as clearly, can’t think of how to run his team’s offense, suddenly forgets all the Italian vocabulary he’s worked so hard to master.

There’s an odd emotion that clutches his chest, it’s cold and it scares him because he knows that, whatever it may be, it’s his fault. Somehow, he has disappointed you. You, of all people. The person who moved across the freaking globe to support his career, who accepted to leave family and friends and life behind out of nothing but love. Fuck. What did he do? How did he do it?

Tobio wants to ask but he doesn’t know how. And suddenly his world seems on the edge of shattering, so much that he thinks leaving you alone and giving you time to figure it out on your own isn’t exactly proving to be a successful strategy. You’re drifting away and Tobio isn’t sure you aren’t already where he cannot reach you.

The apartment you share is significantly close to the gym and it came fully furnished. Yet you insisted on adding some little personal touches, dragging him to ikea over the weekend and asking him opinions on napkins, bath mats, duvet covers, dish towels. You’ve never been one of those people who ask for someone else’s thoughts only to follow your own taste in the end and that is why he actually felt invested enough to pick things he actually liked, albeit hesitating, hyper aware of just how differently you would’ve picked. But you never once faltered as he pointed towards the less exciting, not really colorful options.

“You’re back early” is the soft greeting Tobio gets as he takes his shoes off, leaves the gym bag by the door because he knows if he’s a second too late the courage will melt away and leave him a sweaty, timid, confused coward.

“I’m not very hungry but we have some leftovers you can heat up” your eyes have only shortly darted to him before settling on the show you’re watching on tv once more.

“I was hoping we could talk” he feels a weird lump in his throat and suddenly swallowing seems hard. Is his voice coming out weird too? It feels weird. Like he’s watching the whole scene from the outside, you turning to look at him as he mechanically makes his way to the couch, sits reasonably afar from you.

You look at him with what feels a weird mix of apprehension and distress. Are you anticipating the topic? Would you have preferred to be the one to bring this all up? But just how much longer did you want him to wait, exactly?

The tv is turned off.

“Yeah. Yes, we should talk”

Tobio recalls feeling nervous a couple of times in his life, maybe the worst anxiety he’s ever felt was the one creeping onto him the night before the 2021 Tokyo olympics. But this? This feels so much worse. It’s dreadful. There’s no outcome he can predict, only one he can pray against.

“Something is wrong and I want to know what it is” he knows he’s picked the wrong words, the wrong tone, from the sigh you heave. “I mean, I feel that something isn’t right. Please tell me how to fix it” and then, much more quietly, “I miss you”.

Your eyes soften at that but, much to his horror, also fill with fresh tears.

He’s made you cry before. Out of anger, frustration, petty arguments, sharp edged comebacks. But right in this moment Tobio feels you’re about to tell him there’s nothing to fix anymore, that it’s too late. Those are the kind of tears he’s never made you shed.

“What did I do?” his uniform sticks uncomfortably to his sweaty back, he didn’t shower in order to get home as fast as he could.

“You didn’t do anything, Tobio”

Well, that’s not exactly the truth, but he didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. Nothing you haven’t been used to throughout the years spent together.

“Please. I really want to understand” it scares me he wants to add.

“This is nothing I can hold you accountable for. It’s always been like this, after all”

“What has always been like this?”

“My place in your life” you smile sadly with a slight shrug of the shoulders “I always come second. It’s fine, I know I do, really. I guess it has just been weighing extra heavy lately”

Tobio blinks once, twice, genuinely surprised and even more confused. “I love you” he articulates slowly, as if to express what should be the most obvious thing on earth “the only person I love as much as you is my sister. But it’s different, she’s family”

“I would never expect you to love me more than it” you carry on as if he never interrupted “volleyball was there first, I get it. Please know I actually get it. But it’s just… not always easy”

Tobio gets that feeling he sometimes gets when trying to fall asleep, the oh-no-I’m-plummeting-from-a-fucking-skyscraper one. His body jerks the same way, an involuntary contraction to the last words he was expecting to hear. “I don’t understand” because volleyball is different too. It’s a comparison his brain can’t process the right way. You’re the person he’s in love with, volleyball is the one thing he has dedicated his entire life to. He doesn’t dare put you both on a scale.

“I know you don’t” you reply softly, cheeks now stained with tears that put a knife through his heart “and maybe it’s on me because what else did I expect?”

“I love you” Tobio scoots closer now, takes your hands in his “I will be better at proving you how much I love you” it sounds desperate and pathetic even to him as you shake your head.

“And I love you, Tobio. But you’re just… never here. You’re either training or staying for extra trainings or on the road or playing, always playing. You forgot my birthday, which is no big deal because I know how tired you were and it’s not like it hasn’t happened before. But then you forgot our anniversary. You forget the promises you make. You don’t come home for dinner or meet me at the restaurant or pick up the groceries. You can barely keep your eyes open while I tell you about my day” he watches you choke up on your words and it’s like someone is toppling a bucket of iced water over his head. So he was right. It is his fault. But he did worse than disappointing you, he hurt you.

“I just think… I need to go home for a while. I miss my family, I miss my friends. And, well…”

“I promised we’d travel home for our anniversary” he murmurs, realization hurting his chest and twisting his insides. He tightens his hold over your hands.

“Yeah�� you offer another grim smile “yeah, you did”

Tobio has no idea how to fix any of this. He just knows he might lose you forever if you step on that plane without him and the thought alone is enough to make his eyes fill with tears too. “Don’t go. Please, I’ll make arrangements, take some time off, and we can go together. I promise-” he shuts his eyes the second the word leaves his mouth, disgusted. This is what he has sounded like for the past months. He feels sick.

“I have my ticket ready. I need to go alone, I think it will do me good” your thumb travels over his uncharacteristically chapped knuckles “I might even surprise Suga at his school”

But all Tobio hears is that you’re leaving. Without him. “Don’t do this. I need you” he flinches when you free one of your hands to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye.

“I don’t think that’s true, Tobio. I think you have one priority in your life and that it’s unfair to ask everyone else to be okay with being eternal seconds”

“I don’t love it more than I love you” he bites “it’s a fucking stupid comparison. It’s a sport and you’re a person”

“Would you stop playing if I asked you to?”

He stays silent, petrified. That question also feels unfair and so unlike you. “You would never do such thing”

You chuckle but there’s no actual humor in your laugh. It’s empty and so exhausted. “You’re right, I’d never. But that still isn’t the answer I would’ve hoped to get”

“So what, if I don’t give up on my entire life it means I don’t love you enough? Is this the yardstick by which you’ll decide if you’ll break up with me or not?” he hopes he seems angry because he’s desperate more than anything else. He feels inadeguate and, for the first time, wrong for you. Like you’re a perfect match but a one-sided one. Could he ever be a match for anyone, honestly?

“But I did give up on my entire life, didn’t I?” you lean forward, press your forehead to his shoulder because looking into his pained eyes is torture “for something that now feels like the shell of what we once had. You say you miss me but I’ve been missing you for far longer, Tobio”

He aches for the way your body shakes as you try to muffle your sobs, his arms around you don’t feel nearly enough. Tobio wishes he could rip his chest cavity open and tuck you inside, right next to what’s sure is a bruised heart. Maybe then you’d believe how deeply sorry he is. Maybe then you’d feel loved once more, you’d be safe from his selfishness.

“Don’t leave me” Tobio whispers it into your neck, lips grazing your skin. He wants to be better, knows he can be better. “I wouldn’t be who I am without you”

“I don’t want to stay and end up hating this, or you. I want to shield the love I have for you and I can’t do that if I stay here. It's like I'm... fading” your voice isn’t but a murmur “you understand, right, Tobio?”

He shuts his eyes, time and space and his house and the room you’re both in cease to exist. He doesn't. But he thinks the least he can offer, at this point, is understanding.

“Yes. I do”

[melminli]

Vanilla Pudding II

pairing: young coriolanus snow x fem. reader

summery - of course, coriolanus had his principles. but before he had them, he had you. he didn't want to lose that no matter what. you were his only exception in this game, and you would remain to be that.

word count: 1.3k

contains: district reader living in the capitol, fluff, slightly dark themes, coryo being a simp, flashbacks, fluff, possessiv behavior

a/n: well, i didn't really expect this to turn kinda darkish since the first chapter was so wholesome... but here we are. part 2 to blueberry tartlet!

part I

Not everything was easier back then, but most things were. As a child, he didn't have to worry about his family's reputation. He hardly cared about his own since he was more concerned about what he had for dessert after dinner. Coriolanus was fine with just about anything most of the time, except for this pastrie with jam his grandmother used to make. He hated the taste of that. Well, he ate it anyway, but he would have been happier if it had been bread pudding instead. Coriolanus loved that shit.

He remembered once when he was a little kid and played alone on one of the swings at the playground outside. He thought of kindergarten as okay because he didn't like most of the kids there, and that still hadn't changed today. Most of them grew up to be idiots just as expected.

"Ya wanna have some puddin'?" You asked him, and this was the first real encounter he had with you. Back then, you still had your district accent, which Coriolanus had found very strange, but for whatever reason, you were still quite popular among the others. They liked you a lot.

He thought you were weird. "Is it bread pudding?"

You didn't seem to know for sure yourself as you looked into the container and thought for a few seconds. "No, just normal vanilla puddin'...sorry." you said in a whisper. "Ya can still have it if ya want? The other like chocolate puddin' more..."

Coriolanus watched your figure for a few seconds, and you didn't really dare to meet his starting gaze at first, so you looked to the side, slightly embarrassed. "I don't want it, but I'll take it." He finally said and held out his hand. It was better than nothing.

His answer brought a smile to your face. "My ma made it, I'm sure ya gonna like it!" You replied and happily placed it in his hand.

He didn't have a spoon. How am I supposed to eat this? He looked at his hands and considered it for a few seconds before shaking his head. No, I can't do that. "Why don't you eat it?" He asked you, suddenly noticing out of the corner of his eye how your braided hair was held in place by a bow. He thought it looked kind of cute on you. It suited you.

"I also like chocolate more." You admitted a little shyly and then realized yourself that he didn't have the necessary cutlery to eat the dessert. "Oh, I don't have a spoon with me. We can ask someone in the cafeteria, I'm sure they'll help us out!" Your voice exclaimed as you grabbed his hand and pulled him along without a care in the world.

He wished he could still see you with the same eyes he did back then. When it didn't matter who was called what, what clothes you wore, or just the fact that you could say what you thought without worrying about how it might sound.

But you weren't kids anymore. He was no longer clueless and all that stuff was important now. The only thing that hadn't changed from back then was that you were still a District girl, and that was one thing you would remain forever, no matter how long you lived in the Capitol.

"Are you okay, Coriolanus?" Rang your sweet voice suddenly in his ears, leaving him stirring only to be greeted with your figure in front of his table. Your eyes looked down at him with concern, and he only now realized that class was over. Most of the students had even left the classroom already. It seemed like he had been caught up in his thoughts for quite a while. "...yes, everything is fine. Don't worry about it, it's nothing." He said and packed up his bag.

You weren't entirely convinced but decided to let it go. Maybe he just hadn't slept well. He seemed to walk around with dark circles under his eyes a lot. "Oh, okay." You just said. You've been making a bit more of an effort to get in touch with your childhood friend lately. You didn't really know why, but somehow, along the way, you just seemed to stop being friends. It was only the other day at the graduation party of your elders that you realized how much you had actually missed him.

"So, I heard you're taking part in this year's Hunger Games." You broached the subject and saw him raise an eyebrow. You suddenly noticed how that may have sounded. "As a mentor, of course! Yeah, sorry if the way I just put it sounded a bit weird..." You apologized to him and mentally smacked yourself on the head.

He shook his hand. It was cute how nervous you suddenly acted around him. He liked that, liked that it was him who made you feel that way. "It's okay. As I said, don't worry about it." He replied and walked down the stairs with you after he was finished with his bag. "I'm afraid I couldn't find your name on the list. It's a real shame that you have to miss out on such a great opportunity."

You disagreed. "Well, I'm actually a bit relieved about that, if I'm being honest." You admitted, looking a little worried at the thought that you could have been in his place. "Yeah, I'm not really a big fan of the games. I hate to admit it, but I'm kind of sensitive to this type of stuff. Like, just seeing blood freaks me out, so I can't really..."

Coriolanus watched you struggle a bit trying to skate around the actual goal of the games. You didn't even seem to be able to say the word kill or dead. He'd bet you'd be the first to fall if you were a tribute. His eyebrows furrowed slightly at the thought. It's better that she isn't. She's not like those other animals. "Don't be absurd. It's completely valid that you feel that way, trust me." He assured you, bringing a slight smile back to your lips.

He stopped you briefly so he could hold your hand comfortingly. "We don't even have to talk about the games if you don't want to. How about this, I know this good ice cream place near the academy." He suggested charmingly. "Do you still like chocolate? I've heard that's their specialty."

You couldn't stop the broad smile that spread across your face at his words. "It still is, actually. let's go! My treat!" You said and pulled him along by his hand without a care in the world, and like then, he just let you do it.

"No way, I'll pay and there's nothing you can do about it."

You shook your head stubbornly. "I don't want you to do that, and you can't stop me."

He had decided then and there that he wasn't going to let himself get in the way of the only good thing that had ever happened to him in his usually so miserable life. And what if you were a District girl? Even if he could never change that, it would make no difference in the future.

After all, no one would dare question the decisions of the President of Panem - especially when it came to choosing his first lady. Coriolanus was sure that something could easily be arranged with those who still couldn't hold their tongues.

Before you could take another step, Coriolanus suddenly stopped behind you and almost let you fall to the ground had he not caught you. "And that's where you're wrong." He said, smiling as sweetly as a poisoned apple. "Because I can."

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Hang on, I have an interesting (to me at least lol) thought about vamp! Rhys.

What the hell would he do with reader being on her period when she’s still human??

Am I asking this because I am on my period reading your vampire! Rhys fics… possibly… he’s just so hot 🫠and I wanna bite him affectionately lol💀

It’s a really good question in my opinion lol

This has been sitting half finished in my drafts and now I'm on my period and asking the same questions! But don't worry, I have some answers for you ;)

----------

Messy

Content Warnings: Fluff-SMUT-more fluff; Period Sex, Blood Play, Oral (fem receiving)

--------

You should have known something was up when Rhys had woken you up every morning for the last week with his fangs nipping at your throat, his sleep thick voice murmuring how good you smelled into your skin before taking the faintest of tastes. You write it off as him finally coming to terms with how he feels about you being human and embracing this new comfortability in your relationship, at first. But then you randomly catch him staring at you throughout the day, his gaze dark, pupils blown wide. He wouldn't do anything about it either. Usually, when he looks like that you find yourself flush against a wall, but these last few days he's just staring. Like he's waiting for something.

Then one night he asks you if you're in the mood for chocolate and comes back with a whole tray of ice cream and cookies and expensive looking candies and you're absolutely sure he's lost his mind.

You have half a mind to ask Mor if there's some weird dating ritual vampires have that you don't know about, because there's suddenly a lot more pillows and comfy blankets in your bed the morning after that. Along with a tray of some weird tea you've never seen before, and more boxes of chocolate things you can't name. But you don't even make it to Mor's wing of the house before Rhys waltzes into the bedroom you share with his arms full of towels and you simply cannot take it anymore.

"Rhys what are you doing?"

He takes his time folding them, studying each towel like it holds the mysteries of the universe within it. "Preparing."

"For what?" You ask incredulously, because he's clearly in on some secret you've never heard of.

He cocks his head to the side, looking very confused as to why you're asking. "Is it not almost your time of the month?"

That doesn't make his behavior any less confusing, but you run a hand through your hair in thought. It should be starting any day now, now that you think about it. "You've been keeping track of my period?"

He takes the perfectly folded towels and puts them under the bathroom sink for safe keeping as he says, "Of course. What kind of partner would I be if I didn't?"

You follow after him, still wildly confused. It's not like he can get you pregnant, there's no need for him to be keeping track. "But why?"

He frowns at that. "You were in a lot of pain last time, I wanted to help make it easier this time around."

Your heart clenches in your chest and you step forward to place a gentle kiss on his lips. "That's really sweet of you."

"I hate to see you in pain," he says, catching your face in his hands. "I don't really remember how the human body works, but I found some books in the library about what might help, since my blood didn't work last time."

He'd been very concerned about the amount of cramping you endured last month, even more so when it turned out Vampire blood was not in fact a cure all for every human ailment. It could fix a cold, but for some reason, it hadn't worked so well on your cramps.

Maybe it's your hormones, but you tear up a little at the thought of him rifling through the library trying to find the right book to help you. "That would explain all the chocolate and the tea."

"The books said they helped," he sweeps you up into his arms so he can hold you.

"What else did they say?" You ask as you kiss the tip of his nose.

He grins at that, eyes once again dark and hungry. "Ask me again in a few days."

That's never a good sign, but you'd be a liar if you said you weren't intrigued. He'd checked most of the boxes for your needs already, what else had he managed to find?

By the time you actually start bleeding, he's wrangled up every heating pad and pain reliever he can get his hands on. There's always a hot bath waiting to help you relax, and no shortage of pads stashed throughout the estate. He's hidden some in every desk and drawer he can think of, which pretty much means you'll never have to worry about it for the rest of your mortal life because he's not exactly sure how many of them you need, but it's the thought that counts.

By the second day, your cramps are so intense you can barely get out of bed and he stays dutifully curled up next to you, holding a heating pad at the base of you spine and massaging your tender hips like your own personal masseuse.

"Maybe today's the day, Rhys," you grumble into his bare chest. "I think I've had just about enough of this human thing."

He chuckles softly into your shoulder as his expert fingers loosen the tight muscles at the base of your spine. "That's not a very fun turning story."

"You've never experienced the pain of being a woman," you counter. "I think Mor would find it funny at least."

He kisses your shoulder, clad in one of his oversized shirts. "We still have a few things we can try before we resort to that."

"Such as?" You counter.

Rhys rolls you over onto your back, body sliding in between your legs. "I read that orgasms can help." His eyes are back to that dark, hungry look you've seen a dozen times in that couple weeks and it suddenly clicks in your head why he's been looking at you like that.

"That explains the towels," you say.

He kisses you gently at first, "Only if you want to, of course."

"At this point, I'll try anything," though you can't help the blush that works its way up your neck and face. You'd be a liar to say you hadn't thought about it, but you'd assumed this was too taboo a subject to discuss with someone so... old.

He's gone in a flash to grab the towels he'd stashed under the sink and back just as quick to lie them out across the bed, just so you don't ruin the sheet set that might just be older than you.

"You're sure you don't mind?" You inquire and he stills at the edge of the bed, giving you the same look he gives Cass when he says something out of pocket.

"I'm a vampire, Darling," he says, running his tongue over his canines so you get the point. "You should know by now how much I enjoy blood. Yours especially."

"Yeah, but this is-" You freeze as he kneels between your legs and starts placing soft kisses along the inside of your thighs. "Different."

One of his hands reaches up to push your shirt up your body, the other holds your legs open so he can move further up your thighs. "How so?" Fangs scrape over your skin in teasing strokes as he kisses higher and higher.

"You're not drinking from me," you start but a shiver works its way down your spine and steals the thought from your head as he brushes his nose over your clothed center. It is easy to forget how sensitive your body is during your period, and there is no denying how turned on you get when Rhys gets between your legs, but this time it feels different. This time, having him this close makes your body tremble, heat licking deep in the pit of your stomach. It usually takes some of his venom to feel this worked up, but there's none in your system yet.

"Aren't I?" He purrs, hands hooking in the waistband of your underwear.

You don't have time to ask before he starts pulling the material down your legs, the cool air of the room a stark contrast to the heat that flushes your skin. There is no beat in time between him baring you to him and him pulling a towel beneath you, his inhumane speed making it feel like you blinked and were suddenly bare. It's not even a breath later that he's licking a stripe up your center and all rational thought eddies from your mind.

"Rhys!" You should want to pull away, should feel some sort of mortification when he looks up at you, eyes so lust blown they're almost all pupil despite the slight flush of red on his lips, but you can't find it in you to do so.

"Relax," he orders mind to mind as his tongue slides easily through your folds. "Let me take care of you."

Your eyes squeeze shut as he licks another long stripe up your center, canines scraping gently, teasingly against you. It's too much already and he hasn't done anything yet. Your hands reach for the sheets, trying to hold onto something, to ground yourself from rocking your hips into his mouth in desperation.

"Feels good?"

Your legs instinctively spread for him, body begging for more as you whimper for him. "More, please, more!"

He guides one of your legs over his shoulder, giving him a better angle to dive into you and feast, tongue pushing deeper inside you.

Stars swim across your vision, breath rasping out of you in panting gasps as your hands fly from the sheets to his hair to pull him closer. Your body is white hot, muscles tightening around his head as the pleasure builds deeper and deeper inside you.

When he slides a finger inside you, you can't help but buck your hips into his face, writhing against the pleasure that's too much and somehow not enough. His name is a prayer on your lips, pleasure making you delirious as he drags you closer and closer to the edge.

He has to keep an arm over your waist to keep you from writhing too far away, the strength of him only serving to fuel the fire in your belly more. This is about you and your pleasure, and gods is he good at it, but knowing you can't squirm away from him, can't do anything but accept what he gives you makes your thighs clench around his head.

He moans into your center as you tighten around him, letting you know he's enjoying this just as much as you are, despite the wetness you feel dripping down onto the towel beneath you. At least he had planned ahead for the mess.

"Rhys," the whole house can probably hear you screaming for him as he slides a second finger inside you, stretching you out and chasing the motion with his tongue.

"Just like that, Little One," he coos. "Cum for me."

You're aware you're babbling, thighs shaking around his head as pleasure sweeps through you, but you can't stop. Can't do anything but float on the waves of white hot pleasure that crest and fall down your spine. He doesn't stop his ministrations either, not even as you fight to catch your breath. His fingers and tongue still move through your sensitive folds, still curl against that same, spongy spot over and over again.

"Too much," you whimper, trying to wiggle out from beneath him.

His large hand flattens over your stomach, pushing you down hard enough to feel the mattress bow beneath you. You aren't going anywhere until he's done with you, 'til he's had his fill.

"Look at me," he orders, tongue swirling in a new pattern, teeth lightly nibbling on your skin.

There's blood on the tip of his nose, on his cheeks and chin; all traces of violet are gone from his eyes, only lust and hunger in its place. Usually Cassian is the messy one, but tonight, he lets a little of the monster slip.

"I want you to watch as you come apart on my tongue again."

You're pretty sure it's his powers that pin you in place, holding you upright as he speeds up his movements, gaze pinned on the way he devours you like a male starved. He has eaten you out plenty of times in the past, but the sounds he makes, the reverberations of his moans only amplify your pleasure.

The edge rises to meet you again, the over-stimulation cresting between pleasure and pain, the lines blurring as he suckles on your clit.

Stars once again blur across your vision as every muscle in your body tightens. The grip you have on his hair has to be painful, even for an immortal, but he makes no complaint as he nips and sucks and twists his fingers in a way that makes you think you might die if you don't cum soon. Tears make your vision cloudy, all your heightened emotions amplified further by how good he's capable of making you feel.

"So pretty like this," he purrs. "Love those sounds you make for me, when you moan my name like a prayer."

It's taking everything in you to not squeeze your eyes shut as you buck your hips as best you can against the hand pinning you in place. Just a little more. Just a little harder. You're so close to the edge again, so close to that sweet, sweet bliss.

"We should have done this sooner, don't you think, Darling?"

"Yes!" You practically scream it as he flicks his tongue at the same time he curls his fingers and your release barrels through you so hard and fast your body shakes against it.

You're absolutely boneless as he works you through it, dragging your orgasm out as long as possible with his fingers. Only when your ragged breathing finally calms does he remove himself from your core. He leans back on his haunches, face an absolute mess of blood and your release.

Despite the fact that he'd just been between your legs, you still find yourself blushing as he slides the fingers that had been inside you into his mouth for one final taste. "You really are my favorite meal, you know that?" His voice is still deliciously husky, the clear sign of his own arousal fighting the confines of his pants.

But this is about you, and making you feel better. So instead of doing something about it, he takes one of the towels you didn't absolutely ruin and starts to clean you up. When he's satisfied that you're clean, he disappears into the bathroom to start the tub.

He'd taken that time to clean up his face too, so there's no blood on his lips when he leans over the bed to place a gentle kiss on your lips. "Feel better?"

You'd managed to forget for the entirety of it that you had been cramping in the first place. "Much better."

He sweeps you up into his arms gently, like you're something fragile and breakable and it makes your heart clench in your chest. He has always been good at taking care of you, but it really hits you in this moment.

"I love you," you whisper as you lean up to kiss his cheek.

The water of the tub is deliciously hot, easing any lingering tension in your muscles as he gets both of you in the tub.

Rhys settles you against his chest, pressing gentle kisses against your forehead. "Still thinking about turning?"

You lean your head back against his shoulder so you can look up at him, eyes twinkling mischievously. "I think I want a little more mind blowing period sex first."

He chuckles as he settles back against the tub. "Good, 'cause those books had a few more suggestions we can try out."

[hotwritergf]

The best medicine🫂

"You need to relax kid. There's only so much stress a person can take before they explode, like pop."

Derek explained, his voice soft but his words playful. He'd always known Reid was a perfectionist but there was absolutely nothing he could add to the case files that would complete them anymore than he'd already done. Spencer always found the cases with children the most emotionally demanding, especially when it was all out of their control. Even a genius with an eidetic memory couldn't fix what had been done in this particular case.

"Actually experiencing a moderate amount of stress is normal and can even be beneficial, as it can help motivate and focus attention. Anyway, I'm fine. It's nothing I can't handle. Now stop distracting me and let me get back to my paperwork."

Spencer rolls his eyes, his mind engulfed in the case. He sips his 4th cup of coffee from that day, making a face when he tastes the bitter liquid, remembering he'd used the last of the sugar several hours prior. Reid sticks his head back into the case files, scanning over each words at an alarming rate. All of his focus is transfixed on the information in front of him, so much so that he doesn't sense Morgan sneaking up behind him. Gripping him into a bear hug from behind, trapping him against the back of his chair.

He sneaks his fingers, poising them strategically on Spence's sides, steadying them firm against his shirt-clad skin.

"What- Morgan! What on earth are you doing?"

Spencer splutters out, his voice breathy and full of confusion. He struggles against Derek's arms uselessly; whilst he's a genius, there's no way to overpower him with intellect when Morgan has him pinned.

"I told you. You need to relax, pretty boy. But don't you worry, I'm here to help you."

Morgan's smirk is audible, spinning Spencer's chair to face him, he chuckles as he looks Spencer up and down. Reid's face is flushed, a sweet blush that perfectly compliments his cheeks. Looking like a lost lamb, he glances at Derek as his heart starts to beat faster from the cheeky look in his eye.

"Ah, yes because the pinnacle of relaxation is being stuck to my chair. Of course, my foolishness."

Spencer snaps back, matching Morgan's playfulness.

"Just wait Dr Reid, you're gonna be so relaxed that you're not gonna know what's hit you. Now I'm gonna touch you, is that okay?"

Reid nods shyly, unsure of how the situation is going to play out.

"You're safe with me, remember that. Now, I'm gonna need you to laugh for me."

Morgan teases, Reid's demeanor still confused and slightly fearful but when he lets out the breath he's been holding this entire time Derek knows he's okay.

"Laugh for you? What do you-"

Spencer shrieks under his fingers, they poke and prod in the spaces between his ribs. Scratching at all the clothed skin he could reach, smiling down at the snickering genius.

"No! Stop!-"

He begs, throwing his head back and allowing himself to laugh openly. Mentally begging that Morgan doesn't find his sweet spot, he could handle being tickled on his ribs for a while, but his under arms? That's a different story.

Derek traces his fingers over the thin shirt, traveling down to his sides and scribbling his nails over his belly.

"Aww, look at you! Pretty boy can't think when he's getting tickled huh?"

He teases with a singsong tone to his voice, holding Reid in place as much as he can as he writhes in his grip.

"Morgan! Stop!"

Reid begs, letting out a snort of laughter. Derek coos, filling the air with aww's. Spencer pulls at his arms, desperately trying to clamp them to his sides to protect himself from the ticklish onslaught.

He swallows hard and makes a strangled noise, almost like it was stuck in his throat. Derek's fingers squeeze up his sides, reaching his armpits.

"No! Anywhere but there!"

Spencer squeaks a high-pitched noise, trying to swivel the chair around to knock Morgan's balance. His co-worker winks, a shit eating grin rising his lips up into a smile, his dimples deepen and becoming more prominent.

"Oh bad spot huh? Don't worry, it's not gonna hurt, it'll just tickle."

Morgan lets out a laugh of his own as he swirls one finger in each underarm. Practically sitting on Reid's lap, restraining him more as he leans over him. Spencer bucks his hips frantically, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Refusing to look Derek in the eye as he bellows out his demands for him to stop. His demands are only met with a smirk and fingers digging under his arms, searching for the most sensitive spots. When he notices Spence wheeze, gasping for air, his fingers still and remove from his underarms. Derek's hands find Reid's hair, petting it softly, running them through the strands soothingly.

"Breathe kid. It's okay, I got you."

Morgan whispers into his ear as Spencer lets residual giggles spill from his lips.

"You- you are so mean."

Spencer pants, eventually catching his breath and chuckling at his own comment.

"Maybe a little, but you don't seem as stressed now. I'm right aren't I?"

"Well there is such thing as tickle therapy, Tickling therapy releases endorphins into the body, known as the happy hormone, this has an undoubted effect on relieving stress and improving health. But the ancient Romans actually used tickling as a method of torture."

Reid rambles, grateful to be able to speak without being cut off by his own laughter. Morgan smiles down at him once more, happily looking at his best friend. His hair is messy and he's a little sweaty, but his smile is beaming from ear to ear.

"Is that so Dr? You know I'm here to give you 'therapy' whenever you need it pretty boy."

Derek ruffles Reid's hair playfully, rough-housing with him once more. Spence would never admit it, but despite his aversion of touch over his phobia of germs, he loved these moments with his brother.

[bandgie]

Milking Farm

Chan x Minho x Jisung x fem!reader | MDNI 18+

warnings!: smut, nipple/boob play, lactation, fingering (f!), 4someish, reader's boobs are called udders, cow!reader, reader is called pet, milking

919 words

It's hard to cum now. They're so used to milking you with ease that they don't let you finish anymore.

You're trying so hard to have Chan keep his gloved fingers buried in you. To keep Han and Minho tugging at your breasts to squeeze out every drop. The buckets beneath you are already almost filled up with your milk, but the thought of them stopping wrecks you.

You remember when you used to cum on Chan's digits. Your cream was so wet and warm that he could feel it through the gloves. If you were really good, he'd let you have a taste. Now he pulls his fingers out the moment the buckets fill.

"P-please," it's a soft whimper that leaves you. Your floppy ears flick in anticipation. Your tail swishes unsure behind you, hitting Chan on the arm. He's still pumping his digits inside you. Deep enough to make you clench, but not enough to build that delicious heat inside.

Chan's fingers slow, dragging a whine out of you. "Please what? What's wrong?" There's a hint of concern in his voice. Even if you're not the exact same species, he still treats you with respect.

Even if you're spread out on all fours.

"Cum," you meekly respond. "I wanna cum." You wiggle your hips for emphasis. Your breasts bounce in front of Minho and Jisung. They work diligently on your tits, making sure to squeeze and grope them just right. Still, you could see the outlines of their cock in their pants.

"Cum?" Chan says like it never crossed his mind. "Do you like cumming?"

This makes Minho snicker beside you. His hands play with your breast a little rougher, tugging your nipples more than what's necessary for your milk to spurt out. It feels good.

You turn your head back to nod at Chan. "Yes. I really like it."

The man behind you coos. Your ears twitch in response. He resumes his quick pace, now using his other hand to rub your clit. "Seems like we haven't been treating our pet good, have we boys?" Chan questions the other two.

They nod in agreement. Jisung looks as though he might replace his hands with his mouth. He likes the way your full breasts bounce, and how your nipples seep with sweetness. Truthfully, he’s missed when you came. Your moans sound so pretty to him, arms shaking so much he and Minho have to carry your weight.

"You like it when we play with your udders huh? Naughty pet. I don't think you're supposed to," Minho tuts at you. There's a smirk on his face, one side of his lips turned upwards. "Such a nasty girl. But it's okay, we won't tell anyone."

Your legs begin to shake from the stimulation. You rock yourself back onto Chan's fingers, uncaring for how your tits leak outside of the bucket. They seem to pay no mind to it either, letting you chase the release you've craved for so long now.

There's a soft, gummy spot that Chan hits. Your hips still at the overwhelming pleasure, soft moo's leaving your lips.

"Oh she likes that spot," Jisung licks his lips eagerly. He places his free hand on your shoulder to push you back onto Chan's digits. The fingers slide against that spot once more and you quiver. Arousal leaks down your thighs, adding to the wetness where Chan rubs your clit. He takes it upon himself to please you. His fingers ruthlessly fuck into you, curling them downward.

Your body reacts violently, an arm reaching back to try and slow him down. Chan slaps your hand easily, a soft sting spreading on your skin. "You said you wanted to cum," he sounds stern. "So cum."

But it's all too much. Every part of your body is being touched, everything is so wet. You can't even speak anymore, grunts and moans are all you can manage. You bear it all, the rough pulls on your chest and the relentless pace in your cunt and on your clit. Chan's right, you did ask for this.

And you're their good girl, so you can take it.

The heat builds in your stomach, clawing its way to your pussy. Your moans get louder, your milk streams out steadier. Jisung can't help himself when he leans forwards, catching your nipple in his mouth to suck. He only has a second of pleasure before Minho yanks him off by the hair, irritated.

"You horny fuck. You just fucking contaminated everything." Minho sounds close to a snarl.

Maybe you should get mad, Chan definitely should. But you can't find it in yourself to care when you finally tip over the edge. Hot cum spreads over Chan's fingers. It drips down your hole to your thighs. He pulls out his fingers to collect your cream and shove it back in.

His pace at your swollen lips is slow, but he maintains pressure. It's not until you're reaching back once again that he stops. His fingers slide out, your cum dripping once again. Chan smiles proudly, patting your puffy clit to watch you squirm.

"There baby. We'll make sure to let you cum every time, yeah? Would you like that?"

Chan watches the back of your head nod. Satisfied, he directs Minho to help get you settled comfortably in the bed. When Jisung moves to help, he quickly stops him. "Not you. You got the milk dirty. You're suspended, go home."

You laugh tiredly at Jisung's whines, his milk-stained lips pouting.

a/n: this is something ive been daydreaming about recently. was pretty hard to put into words but I needed to make my dreams a reality. I hope you understand

[passivenovember]

thinking real hard about Billy and Steve finding each other years after they've settled into themselves.

Billy's gone to therapy and he lives in a little house on the shoreline. Steve makes it to California. Doesn't have the six nuggets, yet. He's working insane hours at a job that isn't very lucrative, but he never had to sell his soul to his old man--

So. Point is. They're happy. Content, almost.

And then they find each other.

--

Steve's burning a pot of water when the phone rings.

It's like a knife through the air. A thorn in his side, pain and annoyance ramping up to an 11 as he yanks the receiver from the wall. "Yeah, now's not a great time," He says, because the goddamn smoke alarm's gonna start wailing any second now, and Steve's neighbor is real trigger-happy when it comes to alerting the fire department. "Look, I'll call you--"

"--Why answer the phone?"

Steve would know Billy's voice anywhere, the rough and tumble drag of someone who used to live fast and hard but doesn't, anymore. "I," Steve says, "I don't--"

"--It's like. Why answer the phone if it's not a good time to talk?"

"I don't like being impolite."

Billy hums, smoke and lightning on the end of the line. "So, you weren't waiting for me to call?"

"No," Steve says. But he was. Has been since high school and all the weird, boring, disheartening years that followed until Billy appeared at the dive bar on Saturday. Like a vision. An angel.

"Damn. And here I was, taking a full 72 hours to figure out what I should say," Billy tells him.

Steve can hear a smile.

Aches to taste it, but-- "That's kinda lame, Hargrove."

"So what?"

"So. You're kinda lame, I guess."

Billy laughs at him, then, high and bright. It shoots confetti into Steve's kitchen, the curling tendrils nearly catching on fire as Steve comes back to himself. He pulls the pan of water and dumps it into the sink, killing the flame on the stove.

"Yeah, I'm a disaster. Maxine tells me all the time," Billy says, "It's just. How weird, y'know?"

"What? You?"

"No, you," Billy tells him, chuckling again. "Fell outta the sky, or something. Into a shitty dive bar."

"So did you--"

"--Fell outta my dreams."

"So did you," Steve says, and his stomach twists. Tumbles. Washing-machine guts still soiled with the bloody red spots of a decade-long crush.

"Huh. You're kinda forward, Harrington."

Steve shrugs, face burning. "Long as I'm not as lame as you are."

"Dude, I didn't say you weren't lame."

"Sure, you didn't."

Billy's next laugh Steve feels in his gut, heat pooling behind the thatch of curly down at his pelvis. "Still such a bitch, pretty boy."

"I'm just being honest. We aren't getting any younger, I'm not really interested in playing it cool, anymore."

Something rustles as Billy shifts his weight, "You were cool, once?"

"Ha-ha."

"I don't wanna play it cool, either," Billy tells him, as serious as a heart attack, "Look, can I be honest? You mind?"

Steve nods and then remembers Billy can't see him. "Go ahead."

"I can't stop thinking about you."

Steve peers through the kitchen window, trying to imagine Billy somewhere on the edge of town with sunlight in his hair. Smoking in bed, naked gold until the duvet pulls him under hips first.

"Harrington, I need to see you again."

"Need is kind of dramatic."

"Maybe I'm feeling dramatic."

"Thought this was honesty hour, Hargrove?"

"It is. Honestly? I wanna kiss you," Billy tells him. "At midnight. In the pouring rain because I was too chicken-shit to do it after our first date."

Steve focuses on not swallowing his tongue. Damn near fails. "Was that a date?"

"No, it was bigger. It was the stars aligning, the start of--"

"--God, you are feeling dramatic."

"When can I see you?"

"I dunno," Steve says, fiddling with the lip of the sink, "When are we expecting rain?"

"Not sure."

Steve can hear his smile. Aches to sink into the softness. "I need a window to commit."

"Tonight. I'll make it rain."

Steve snorts, light as air. "You're crazy."

"I've had ten years to plan for this, Steve."

"Alright, lemme--" Steve pads over to the refrigerator, peering at his Kittens and Firefighters calendar. May is covered in birthdays, vacations, late nights at work, and roll-over plans from April, all hacked into the cardstock in striking red.

Steve groans and flips to June. "--Can you still make it rain in a month?"

"A month," Billy demands, "Fuck. You're hot shit but I didn't think--"

"--I have a full-time job. And friends who want to hang out when I'm not at work, but since I use all my energy at work I cancel on them, and things get moved around and--"

"--You can't make an exception for the guy who wants to eat you out?"

The pages of the calendar flutter, May settling heavy in the room. Steve swallows and his throat clicks. "Uh. My friends--"

"--Aren't gonna eat you out."

"They would. If I asked them to, at least one of them would."

"I'm not really loving that idea, pretty boy," Billy says, teasing. "What about over a lunch break?"

"You want to eat my ass over a lunch break?" Steve snorts, "I'm not a hooker."

"What's wrong with--"

"--I'm not," Steve says, "And even if I was, I'm not cheap. You couldn't afford the hour, and we'd need more than that, anyway."

"What about a sleep over?"

"A sleepover?" Steve says, turning from the refrigerator. "Like, where I come over to your house and stay until the morning?"

"Or I come over to yours, yeah."

"But--"

"Actually, let's do yours. Maxine's place is getting fumigated, so she and Lucas are staying in the guest house."

"You have a guest house?" Steve doesn't remember mention of that during their first date, but. He was distracted.

Billy laughs, "Bet I could afford your hour, pretty boy."

"I thought," Steve says, twirling the phone cord around his hand, "In high school, I remember you telling Becky Gordes that you don't do sleepovers."

"I'm gay."

"Okay, but what about Eddie Munson? The whole school thought you were fucking him, did he ever sleep--"

"--No, my dad would've killed both of us," Billy tells him, and. Something in his voice makes Steve's blood run cold. Makes him believe it.

So he shifts gears, "But. Don't you have work tomorrow?"

"Who said anything about a sleepover tonight," Billy says. Steve imagines the look on his face. Shit-eating grin bright and sharp and beautiful as always. "Unless you want me to come over tonight?"

"I never said that."

"I can work wherever I want. I don't have to go in at all, if I don't want to."

Steve pads over to his junk drawer, digging around for a red pen. "What does Saturday look like for you?" He bites the cap off, holding it like a straw in the curl of his tongue.

Billy laughs, "I thought you said you weren't free until next month?"

Steve chews on the cap for a moment, pen shaking over the cardstock surface of his calendar. He imagines Billy like he was that night. Different but exactly the same. Charming and soft in a way that only comes from the toil of regeneration. Years and years shedding skin.

He'd been funny and smart. Quick wittted.

Sweet. Like cotton fuckin' candy.

Steve remembers not wanting the date to end, not believing that the universe would give him Billy with no strings attached and laying awake that night, hoping Billy would call, and that they'd get their chance, and now--

"Shit. What the fuck am I doing?" Steve asks, but it comes out garbled and messy and wrong. Comes out sounding like, she whale the food ham ding dong.

Billy laughs at him, again, anyway. "What?"

Steve spits the pen cap onto the counter. "You really want to eat me out tonight?"

"Damn--"

"--Because. I was too fucking stupid to realize what was happening between us in high school. Or. What was happening to me when I saw you in high school, and this is important to me," Steve says in a rush. Fuck being subtle, right? "We're not getting any younger. And I haven't slept with anyone for a long time, much less someone who I've wanted for as long as I can remember, so if you're going to come over here and fuck me--"

"Or talk," Billy says gently. "We could talk more. Get to know each other."

Steve listens to the static on the other end of the line.

"I want to get to know you again, Steve," Billy says.

And Steve cracks. Like a bowl in the microwave, curdling under pressure and heat. "Alright, just. Do you have a pen and paper?"

"For what?"

"My address," Steve says, leaning against the sink, "I want to get to know you, too."

"Tonight," Billy asks, digging around for something.

"Tonight," Steve says. "What the hell."

"Great."

"You've got something to write with?"

"Yeah," Billy says, sounding like he's barely holding it together. "Yeah, just. Whenever you're ready."

--

That night, after, just as Steve falls asleep in Billy's arms--

It rains.

[teamatsumu]

Can I please request rekindling a relationship with ex-boyfriend Atsumu who is a total ass man? (He can't stop touching, fondling reader 's ass.)

one day. (miya atsumu x fem!reader)

word count: 755

warnings: post-break up. sexual language but no explicit smut. swearing. osamu is there. slight angst if you squint. nsfw. mdni.

Taglist: @keiva1000

Atsumu should have known that even after breaking up with you, your presence in his life would be inevitable. After all, you had been childhood friends, and while your relationship had soured and fizzled months ago, you were still very, very close to Osamu, and no beef with Atsumu could stop you from seeing his twin.

So Atsumu had gotten used to walking into Onigiri Miya and seeing you perched on a stool at the counter, deep in conversation with Osamu who was carefully shaping onigiri for you. You were just as much a fan of his brother’s food as he was, maybe an even more enthusiastic supporter. Osamu often called you his little “taste tester”, and Atsumu would make a sleazy joke in your ear about how he was your taste tester, in that he would bury his head between your thighs to taste y-

You would always smack him before he could finish.

Ah well, those days were long gone. You weren’t interested in anything he had to say anymore, which Atsumu thought was karma for the last few weeks of your relationship, when he had started missing all your calls, messages, dates. After the fight that led to your breakup, which was filled with your teary complaints about how he had no time for you at all, Atsumu wondered if his volleyball career just left no room for him to date. But then he would look at Meian, who had a whole wife, and think that maybe it was just him. He just didn’t know how to maintain a relationship.

That didn’t stop him from hesitating now, catching sight of you in conversation with his brother, your arms folded on the counter before you with your torso leaning forward, and Atsumu’s gaze was immediately beckoned down to your-

Fuck.

Those were his favorite pair of jeans on you.

You had gotten them when he took you birthday shopping, and Atsumu had been enamored with them the minute you tried them on. High waisted and tight, they hugged your ass deliciously, so much that Atsumu had insisted he buy them for you, later using that as an excuse to bend you over the nearest surface any time you wore them and having his way with you. This couldn’t be a coincidence now, why would you wear them today? To come to Onigiri Miya? Where you knew you would likely run into him? Atsumu’s jaw clenched at the thought and he stepped further into the shop, finally catching your and his brother’s attention.

“Finally. What’s the point of making ya fresh onigiri if ya won’t show up on time?” Osamu scowled at him, but Atsumu paid him no mind, catching your eye and giving you a smirk.

“Nice ass.” He quipped, making you roll your eyes and turn back to your own plate, but Atsumu caught the tips of your ears turning red, making him grin. Victory.

“You’re disgusting, Miya.” You replied, voice low before you took another bite. Atsumu settled into the stool next to you.

“Ya never minded that when we were datin’. In fact, I still remember the sweet sounds ya made-”

“Shut up.” You glared at him, while Osamu made a disgusted face, saying something along the lines of ‘not in front of the food’. Neither of you reacted too viscerally though. Atsumu’s foul language was nothing new. You might have broken up with him, but you both knew he still liked you, and he would never stop flirting. That was his way of saying he wasn’t giving up on you.

Deep down, Atsumu knew you liked it. So when Osamu turned his back to search for something behind him, Atsumu leaned close to you, lips brushing your ear.

“Why’d ya wear those jeans, doll? Temptin’ me to bend ya over this counter?”

You dug your elbow into his side to push him away a bit. “In your dreams.”

Atsumu hummed, no longer resisting the urge to reach down and give your ass an appreciative squeeze. You jumped a bit, turning to glare at him. “Ya really don’t wanna know what goes on in my dreams, sweetcheeks.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes, but Atsumu caught the corners of your lips, fighting to hold back a smile. He sighed as Osamu placed a plate of food in front of him, not bothering to bite back his own smile. You still loved him, deep down, Atsumu was sure, and he was determined to make you his again one day.

One day.