#'it's only just once right' you plead because the last thing you want is to live a life where you HAVE to fuck satoru gojo on the regular

[icarus-lee]

so you really love me?

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･his endearing soft side, his innerchild °❀

charac. michael kaiser x gn! reader

author’s notes: i tried mirroring his backstory and to what i think he really is behind closed doors w sum1 he rlly loves. Please enjoy!

Michael Kaiser was better off a criminal.

He steals, that's his thing. Probably the only thing he's ever known to do.

He asked you once, "Is there still salvation in the future?" Of course Kaiser never hoped for anything in his past anymore.

Yet that question rings back to you as you see him on the big screen. 75 minutes into the match and you see him turn a desperate glance towards somewhere beyond the field. He was having an evident crisis, a mental struggle that was only known to him; and you. Perhaps it was his whole world crumbling right before your eyes and no one knew it was a crucial moment for him.

You could see the way he’d even plead his teammate Raichi for a pass. “Please” was never a word for your emperor. And that very same emperor that you were seeing right now, was stripping every bit of wealth that he’s desperately protected over the years. It takes you back to when he was only a nobody, not a somebody.

Power was important for Kaiser, truthfully that was his only way to feel human, to assure himself that he won’t go back there anymore. Yet Michael was only a kid, wearing a crown and robe just to earn what every child like him deserved, love. But now, earning love is not that simple right? For there were thorns that accompanied this talented striker. Coincidentally, you had a thing for treasure that surely bites.

“The name Michael means a gift from God. You’re a gift, Micha.” Slowly but reassuringly, you trace the delicate lines of his rose tattoo as he lays there with you, on the soft mattress of his king-sized bed

Michael hums, and shakes his head. He gains a grasp of your hand and plants it to his head, rubbing himself with your touch. You chuckle as he lets out a low groan.

“Watch that beautiful mouth; I might just kiss it.” You heard his harmless threat as he buried his head onto his pillow, your lap. His body wasn’t used to the soft envelopment of a mattress. To him, it was only cardboard before.

You chuckle, “You always do, everyday. Who knew Michael Kaiser wasn’t a grumpy cat to his Liebling? Instead he becomes a melting mess who’s touchy when no one’s looking?”

He abruptly gets up from his comfy little spot (aka your body) and looks at you with a gaze that tells you to keep talking. His gaze tells you that he longs for moments like these to last, for these seconds not to easily pass. Because somewhere in those sapphire eyes, remains an inner child whose soul has been wounded by the burdens of his past.

“You’re gonna have coffee with me right, Liebling? In the morning? ” He simply asked, as he reached for the back of his head, his hair messy as it always was.

It baffled you for a second as to why he would ask that. Yet it suddenly hit you; he didn’t want you to leave by the morning, let alone wake up without you in his arms with not even a simple goodbye. That’s just how he is, considering that right now, he wasn’t Kaiser. He was Michael.

“Who said I wouldn’t? I’ll always will.”

He scoffs, “You’re hard to read Y/N, as always.”

You show him a helpless pout that he can't help but smirk about as you lean closer to his face. “And what does that mean, Micha? ”

“When I expect stones, you give me feathers. When I expect thorns from roses, you give me flowers in a pot.” His expression was far from the familiar smirk he'd show on the field. He held an odd aura of sincerity behind his stern words.

“How could you love me? ”His question became a mumble under his breath but was audible enough for you to hear.

You simply smiled and stood on your knees to fully embrace his figure in bed. His bare back, making contact with your warm hands that could never land a sting on his skin. Your scent encapsulates him, suffocating the last bit of bitterness and wilt in his body. And most of all, he felt your words like an unspoken prayer to the same God he questioned for his existence.

“How? You shouldn’t ask how. You should ask, when have I ever not loved you?”

That’s when Michael learned:

That love has existed, even before the word ever came out of his mouth.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

happy happy birthday i hope you're having a great day 🍾🥳💐

If it's ok i would like to ask for "How can you still trust me after everything I've done?" with 🔥 and a female reader please? Maybe just a little nsfw-ish?

Thank you so much, Anon, for the lovely birthday wishes! I'm sorry this took a while, I hope you still enjoy it! Even though it's much more angsty than actualy NSFW... hope you don't mind that! Thank you!

Source for Pic and Pic

Fighter

Word Count: 4176

Tags: Fem!Reader; Dark!Ace; Angst; Hurt; Sorrow; Ambiguous/Open-ending; Mention of sex; Physical and emotional torture;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Ace was overtaken by some sort of Darkness and he's very intent on breaking you. You are a fighter, but how long can you last in such an unfair fight?

Notes: This fic was heavily inspired by the song The Fighter by In This Moment. I love this song so much! Please give it a listen, it fits right in.

|Masterlist|

Has it been weeks? Days? Surely not. It can't have been more than one day. A few hours, perhaps? Time seems to stand still. There's no window, no sun, no breeze, and definitely no air! It's suffocating, oppressing, and so full of despair.

The only light comes from a few torches scattered here and there, barely enough to discern if the wet patches on the damp earth below your feet are water or your own blood. 

No, that's not right. 

There's another source of light. A dark flame, so black one would think it came straight from the pits of hell. Where once burned a bright orange, almost golden-like flame, filled with love and laughter, now stands a void of hopelessness and desperation. 

Ace. 

Your Ace. 

No, that's not right again. This is not your Ace. In front of you stands a twisted, cruel version of the man you love. 

“Ready to break, love? Are you well rested?” His voice has the same timbre, but he never wielded it with so much cruelty. The way he uses your nickname rings familiar, but it is nowhere near the same. 

And he's terrifying. 

This Darkness that once was your lover approaches your broken form again, and you wince in preparation. Your arms are numb, and there's blood dripping from where the chains cut into your skin, from your dangled wrists. The bruises on your body paint a yellowish and purple complexion on your soft skin. There are welts and blisters forming as well from the burns he's inflicting on you. 

But what's truly devastating isn't the physical pain this thing is bringing upon you. It's an emotional one. Because the same calloused hands that held you tight with love are now holding you tight with pain, branding you with dark flames, consuming you in all the wrong ways. 

You want to beg for him to stop. 

But you can't stop fighting. 

I will always fall and rise again Your venomous heroine 'Cause I am a survivor Yeah, I am a fighter

“Ace.” You plead again, your words more broken than last time but filled with the same hope. “I know you're in there. I know you can hear me. Come back to me, love. Come back.”

For the briefest of moments, his dark eyes seem to flicker with some sort of light. Your heart skips a beat, and your breath catches in your lungs. 

Then it's gone. 

The Darkness laughs. An inhuman laugh devoid of all the warmth that Ace possesses, devoid of all his light, all his love. It hurts more than a million burns. His hands clutch your neck, squeezing tight until little black dots start to fill your vision, his digits marking new bruises on your battered skin as his lips dangle close to your own, twisted into an animalistic snarl that resembles nothing of your lover. 

“Ace can't hear you, love. He's far gone. I'm all that's left, and I will break you.”

He releases you a moment before you're about to pass out, and your chest heaves, inhaling gulps of damp, stagnant air as your head feels light and empty. 

Then, pain strikes again. 

His dark flames create new burns, his fists bruising and battering. You’re not even sure of what's broken anymore. But nothing too important. No, he doesn't want to kill you.

Not yet, at least. 

I will fall and rise above And in your hate I find love 'Cause I'm a survivor Yeah, I am a fighter

You pass out. Who knows for how long? Your only hope is that Ace is still somewhere inside, and that he's still listening to you. 

He needs to come back. 

Ache settles into your bones and your sore muscles. Your lips are dry and cracked, and thirst holds your tonsils ransom, trapped against your throat. You’re at least glad that you have nothing inside your belly, because the stench of your burning flesh is enough to revolt the strongest stomachs. 

“Oh, here you are again, love. I thought I might have gone a bit too far this time.” His manic chuckle is a far cry from Ace’s giddy laughter. “Oops!” Your lover was never taunting, never cruel, never hurtful. You barely know how to cope with this reality.

One minute he was Ace, and the next he wasn’t. How did it happen? You can’t even remember if it was an enemy Devil Fruit or something else entirely. Whatever it was, it took your Ace away and replaced him with something ugly and dark. 

“Come back, Ace, please.” You keep pleading. Ever since this thing brought you to this damp cave and started torturing you. But Ace doesn’t hear you. Is he still there?

He has to be. It’s far too painful to think he’s gone. 

“You keep pleading for the wrong thing, love. Plead for your life. That’s all.” There’s a gleam in his eyes, but it’s the wrong spark. Where there used to be a boyish amusement, there’s nothing but twisted delight. He’s relishing the fact that he’s slowly breaking you.

And you won’t give him - it - this satisfaction. 

“Remember us, Ace… please.” Maybe if you appeal to his heart, to the shared memories of happy days, he can come back to you. He was always a fighter, never a quitter. It doesn’t have to be different now.

You ignore the twisted and spent part of yourself that assures you that if he could come back, he would’ve already. The Ace you love would never have laid a single finger on you to hurt you. 

This dark Ace takes a step back, his eyes widen, and he stutters. “Remember us?” Maybe it’s working. 

You pull on the chains a bit more, but all that does is make you wince and writhe in pain. They’re too tight, and they’ve been biting at your skin, leaving it tender and bruised since he captured you.

“Yes. I remember us.” His lips pull back into a distorted smile that resembles nothing of the man you love, nor does the freakish sound that follows, an eerie, dark laugh. “I remember this.”

The Darkness steps closer, his hand caressing your cheek while his thumb presses against your lower lip. The other hand traces gentle patterns over your neck and collarbone, a familiarity in the gesture that brings tears to your eyes. It’s a lover's caress, but instead of warmth, all you feel is revulsion. 

This will break you much faster than any other kind of torture. 

I will not hide my face I will not fall from grace I'll walk into the fire, baby

“Do you know what Ace’s first memory of you is?” The Darkness’s tongue peeks out from his mouth as he licks his lips, his dark gaze never leaving yours while tears pool at the corners of your eyes. “Your smile. The way his heart raced when you smiled at him. Such a silly boy with silly dreams. So vulnerable, so in love.”

“Stop. Please stop…” The words are mere whispers as tears finally run freely over your scarred cheeks. These are precious memories, and he’s desecrating them all, turning them into weapons meant to hurt. “Ace… come back.”

“Keep pleading, love. It won’t do you any good, but it will feel so much better when you finally break.” His hand hovers over your breasts and dips lower, settling against your hip as he brushes his thumb against your hip bone. The gesture is intimate, akin to Ace’s touch, but so wrong, so perverse. 

“Do you remember the first time he kissed you?” A cruel laugh echoes in your ears, his deep voice a corrupt mimicry of Ace’s soft tone. “Mighty Portgas D. Ace, a fearsome commander of the Whitebeard Pirates… nervous. A trembling mess of a man, too afraid to get it wrong, scared shitless you would leave him because he didn’t deserve you. He agonised over it for days. Foolish sap.”

You close your eyes as a painful sob claws its way through your chest and up your throat. You try to block the beautiful memory from reaching the surface, but the damage is done. You remember it as clearly as day.

Ace’s flushed, freckled cheeks. A nervous laugh escaping his trembling lips. The way he kept swaying on the tips of his toes, his hand either reaching for you or retreating to his pockets. 

His deep breath before cupping your cheeks with shuddering, too-hot hands, just before his lips collided with yours. The kiss was too tense at first, too clumsy. 

Until you relaxed in his hold and melted into his touch. When you sighed into his lips, he easily took your tongue with his and thoroughly scrambled your brain.

“Stop. Please stop.”

“Why should I? When it produces these sweet, sweet tears.” Clutching your face, he leans in, tongue reaching out and licking a long stripe from your jaw to your temple, collecting all your tears with a cruel sound of delight. 

His hands bruise your neck again, holding tightly, revelling in the way your pulse races against his calloused fingers. 

“Does it hurt, love? To know he once kissed you with such devotion, such tenderness, and now… now all you have is me.” His lips ghost yours and you bite your cheeks hard to keep from sobbing uncontrollably. 

Unsatisfied with your lack of response, he releases your neck, and you gasp for air, but he’s relentless in this cruel game. His hands drop to your waist, pulling you closer. The chains holding you groan and rattle in protest, and you let out a pained whimper. 

“I know exactly how he touched you.” The pressure is the same, his hand feels the same, he smells and looks the same. Your heart aches and weeps, and you grieve because, even though he looks the same, he couldn’t be farther from the man you’re devoted to. 

His fingers trace upwards, brushing your bruised ribs, and you hate how your body reacts to his familiar touch. You can’t control the longing you feel for him any more than you can control the tears streaming down your face. 

“I remember how he vowed to protect you from all harm. How he would much rather die than see you hurt.” The way he drags Ace’s laugh into a twisted, cruel version of it carves a deep abyss of pain within your chest. You know he’s speaking the truth. Ace was always your protector. It would kill him to know what he’s done to you now.

Still…

You’d much rather have him with you, feeling terrible for hurting you, than not having him at all. 

All my life I was afraid to die And now I come alive inside these flames

“Shut up. Stop. Please.” You barely have the strength to plead anymore. This is so much worse than when he was only hurting your body. You can endure physical pain, but not this merciless torture.

“I know exactly how he loved you.” The grip on your waist tightens until it bruises again. “How he watched you sleep in his arms, memorising each freckle, each dimple, each dip and crease of your skin. How he committed your scent to memory to keep himself grounded when he was away from you. How his fingers knew the curves of your body by heart, and how you sounded when you unravelled for him.”

An anguished wail leaves your parted lips as each word he delivers taunts you, breaks you, tears another piece of your heart apart, and tosses it aside, broken and used up. You’ve fought so hard until now, you can’t give up. Not even when all of his words are meant to shatter your resolve, to destroy your soul. 

You need to stay strong and fight for Ace.

“Ace…”

“He loved you so much.” The chains creak and groan as he keeps pulling you, bruising your skin with brutal touches. “And me? Well, I can use that love to completely destroy you.” He collects a tear with an extended finger, his eyes gleaming with malice as you crumble further. “I will change and twist your memories so much that you’ll wish you’d never loved him. Or plead for me to kill you.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Whichever comes first.”

Each word, each gesture is a reminder of him, of what he used to be. Of what he is, hidden beneath all those layers of malevolence. 

“Remember how he used to touch you like this…” His words trail and linger near your ear as he runs his fingers down your spine in an all-too-familiar gesture. Your body betrays you once more, his touch so akin to home that you arch towards him, a broken whimper leaving your lips as another tear trails down your scorched cheek. 

The Darkness revels in your reaction, drinking every sob, every sound, every twitch like it’s fuel keeping him alive.

“Oh… yes, he loved that sound. All the little noises you made for him, it always drove him half-mad, knowing he was the one responsible for provoking them, for making you come undone beneath his fingers.” 

Another sob claws its way up your throat as a new wave of beautiful memories fills your mind.

“More, Ace, more.”

“Yes, love. You have all of me.” His languid thrusts drove you crazy. Each stroke of his hips hit places that made you see white. He drew pleasure from you as naturally as he drew flames from within himself. 

Moans and whimpers, prayers and pleas. They left your parted lips in an unintelligible litany of muffled, half-drowned words. 

“That’s it, love. Those noises right there, keep ’em coming for me. All for me.”

And then he would kiss you breathless, swallowing everything you had to give him. Taking it all in so he could breathe life back into you again. 

And you loved every second of it.

Now, all those precious memories are tainted. Tainted by his cruel words, tainted by his brutal touch, tainted by his wicked ways. 

And you’re so drained that you don’t know how much more of this you can actually take. 

“And you… do you remember what you whispered to him?” His lips brush against the sensitive spot beneath your ear, and you swallow a gasp, the chains biting harder into your skin, but you’re already numb to that pain. “How you’d tell him you were his, how you would never want to let go of him, you promised him forever.”

Your lower lip trembles helplessly as the Darkness’s voice drags, malice dripping like venom and sticking to your skin, sticky and disgusting. 

“And when he made love to you…” No… no… no… “When he touched you in all the right places…” His hands grasp your sides and climb up slowly, thumbs brushing your nipples as you fight a torrent of tears. “You’d scream his name, crying out for him like he was your whole world.”

This time, the broken sob leaving your lips is soul-crushing, and you feel the weight of it deep in your chest. 

“That’s it, love. Let it all out.” He brushes his lips against yours in a mockery of intimacy. Another familiar gesture, but a malicious travesty of the reality you were used to. “Mourn for him, for the man who is no more. For the one who promised to keep you safe. Grieve for the loss of his soul. Let me hear you break apart.”

It’s too much. It’s all so devastating.

“Stop… please.” Strength is leaving you. The Darkness hurt you before, bleeding you dry, breaking your bones and scarring your flesh. But this violation of your most sacred memories is what finally breaks you. 

You feel yourself slowly slipping away. You will not last much longer. 

Closing your eyes, you let your face fall forward, a silent sign of defeat. “Do you want him back?” He asks, his cold hands cradling your face so you can look him in the eyes. The viciousness that gazes back at you is unfamiliar, cold, and disheartening. 

It’s not your Ace.

“Beg for him, love. Call his name like you used to. It won’t do any good, but it will make victory taste so much better.” His thumbs brush away another batch of tears, and you can’t take it anymore.

“Ace…”

He doesn’t falter. There’s not even a hint of recognition in his dark eyes. He’s gone. 

“He’s gone, love. But he remembers you. How your laugh was able to pull him away from the darkness within himself. How lucky he felt when you kissed him and how worthy you made him feel. Like he was much more than a name, more than the son of a cursed pirate, more than a legacy of a man he hated.”

He presses his forehead against yours, and the intimacy of it is so vivid that, for a moment, you think your Ace is back. 

“Do you know how many sleepless nights he spent with you in his arms? Just listening to your breathing, completely terrified of losing you one day? How he wished he could protect you from everything that would seek to cause you harm? How his fingers traced every inch of you, afraid he’d forget.”

The dread in your chest expands, taking away your breath. The hurt travels down your legs and up your numb arms. Your head feels lighter, and your throat constricts with agony. You need to let go.

“Please… please… stop. Just stop…”

But the Darkness doesn’t relent. “You made him dream of a future he never thought he’d want… of children he vowed never to have. You were his anchor, grounding him in this life, making him feel like he was deserving of happiness.”

His lips hover over yours, hands clutching your face, the pressure building, yet you feel no pain anymore. You can barely think.

“Do you know what the cruellest part is, love?” He pulls back long enough to look into your eyes, a ghost of Ace’s smile painting his lips. “He never got to say goodbye.”

“Make it stop… I’m done…” The whisper that leaves your lips carries more than defeat. It carries a desperate tragedy. How can something so beautiful as the love you shared with Ace be torn into pieces? How can it be dissected with such malice?

“Finally!” He chants in victory as his hands clasp your cheeks again and he presses his lips hard against yours. 

The kiss is bruising, cruel, a mimicry of Ace’s, but yet, still too familiar. It brings with it another litany of relentless sobs that you just can’t keep at bay. His hands slither over your body in a mockery of a caress and they tuck your neck, pressing gently at first, his lips still glued to yours, claiming both your soul and your body to darkness. 

Then his thumbs press hard against the dip of your throat and all the air is cut off from you. You’re suffocating, thrashing silently against both his hold and the icy grip of the chains and you know your time has come.

It’s as tragic as it is poetic that the man who brought love into your life should also bring death; that the one who so easily breathed life into you, can also take your last breath away. 

Whimpers and gasps leave your constricted throat as your feet kick and thrash, but he doesn’t relent. You feel wetness against your cheeks and taste salt in your dried tongue, though the source of those tears is unknown to you. Are they yours, or the Darkness?

Just as you’re slipping away, the hold on your throat falters and the lips pressed against you lose their harshness, they become soft and pliant, warmer for a moment. Then, with a harsh gasp and a step back, Ace cries in agony, his hands clutching his dark locks as his eyes shut firmly.

Air fills your lungs again and you cough, tasting blood with each convulsion. He might not have killed you yet, but he came pretty close. 

“Ace… Ace…” You try, each gasp more breathless than the last, but each new gulp filled with newfound hope. He’s fighting.

Your Ace is fighting.

With another agonised scream, Ace pants, breathlessly. Globs of saliva spew from his gritted teeth as he struggles to open his eyes. Then his gaze lands on you, your name spilling from his lips in raw pain as he assesses your wounds, the wounds he inflicted upon you himself.

“Love… Oh, God, no. What have I done?” With a wobbly step, Ace draws near your body, hands stretched and trembling as he cups your cheeks lovingly. A lone sob breaks through your pursed lips. 

It’s your Ace. It’s his touch. It's unmistakable. 

“Please, please, love. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” Each word comes drenched in grief, saturated with misery. Each touch filled with caution and care.

“It’s you… it’s really you.” Your words are mere murmurs and each of them is a fresh new wound on Ace’s heart. Pressing his forehead against yours, he mumbles another supplication.

His arms wrap themselves around your wounded body and you shiver against his familiar touch. The warmth of his breath against your hair and neck comforts you as he holds you close, as if trying to shield you from a damage that’s already been done, from something he caused and can’t take back. “Please, please…”

But you shouldn’t have rejoiced too soon. Ace’s body convulses twice against your own, his touch harsher, his strength doubling and you feel a fresh wave of nausea hitting your senses, disorienting you.

“Ace?”

“No!” Ace growls, burying his face against the curve of your neck. “No!” He cries out again while his scream is muffled against your skin. A sharp, stabbing pain travels up your arm as his teeth sink with a sickening crunch of flesh being broken. 

Ace’s hands, which cradled you lovingly mere moments before, are now harsh and brutal against your frail body. His touch feels too unkind, too hot.

“You can’t have her!” The Darkness roars, pulling Ace’s head back violently, though his grip never falters. “You think she’ll forgive you after all you’ve done?”

You can’t speak, you can’t think, you can’t breathe. Ace’s flames dance in front of you, surrounding him like a sickening halo. They turn from orange to black and to an in between that disorients you. His touch aches, burns and scars. 

“Ace… fight!” You try to plead but your voice is too weak, too feeble and powerless to reach him in a battlefield you're not privy to. This is his fight to win, and you are a mere spectator. 

“You can’t…” He begins, a growl and a roar leave his lips as his arms erupt into a blazing inferno, searing your skin and making you cry out in pain and agony. “You can’t take her from me!” With a final clamor, Ace breaks free from the Darkness and his release is so literal that you can actually hear a loud clatter, like glass being broken while invisible shards fly everywhere. A final flame licks your body with ruthlessness and your broken lament dies with it.

“Love?” Ace’s broken voice barely reaches your ears. He, somehow, removes the harsh chains and the cruel bite is no more, though you can scarcely feel it as he cradles you against his body. “Love, come on, you can’t do this to me…” The tears that fall from his eyes almost hiss as they kiss your scorching skin. “I’m so sorry… I’m sorry… How…?” A broken sob shakes his shoulders as buries his face in your hair. “How can you still trust me after everything I’ve done?”

Ace’s world crumbles as you flutter away from him. Ragged, uneven breaths leaving your lips while your eyelids tremble in a defeated effort to open.

He’s losing you. 

And it’s all his fault. 

“Please don’t leave me. Fight… please. I’ll never let anything hurt you again…” The sorrow in his words weighs heavily in your heart, yet your body doesn’t respond to your will and you can’t seem to reassure him; you can’t tell him you don’t resent him, that it wasn’t his fault, that he doesn’t need to blame himself.

Because if there’s someone who doesn’t need to carry more guilt, it’s Ace. 

And yet, there’s no strength left to let him know that. Your chest heaves one last time and, suddenly, the fight is lost, and there is no clear winner.

Because if there’s someone who deserves all the happiness in the world, it’s Ace. 

“Please, come back. I love you…”

But all the love in the world couldn’t save you. 

All the love in the world couldn’t save him.

A frail wail leaves Ace’s lips as he shuts his eyes in agony, and he almost misses the flicker of hope that makes your chest tremble again while a soft sigh escapes your lips.

I don’t need you to save me ‘Cause I’m a survivor, yeah I am a fighter

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training

[skyrim-forever]

WIP Wednesday

Hey y'all it's another Wednesday <3 I'm scheduling this as I gotta be at the airport tomorrow morning. Probably won't be until the evening but I'm gonna carve out time to see the wips as I love seeing what everyone is doing <3 Thank you @firefly-factory for the tag this morning 🥰

Tagging: @theoneandonlysemla @dirty-bosmer @lucien-lachance @umbracirrus @changelingsandothernonsense

@bougainvillea-and-saltwater @pocket-vvardvark @hircines-hunter @captain-of-silvenar @ladytanithia

I'm currently writing a fic called I'm only happy when I'm with you because it has Theodora/Ondolemar confessing their feelings but was the second fic I wrote for them so, they deserve better! Setting is Windhelm just after the Civil War you ever be so down bad you go to Windhelm to tell a woman you love her Suggestive part so I'll stick it under the cut

It’s not lost on Ondolemar how bizarre it is to do this here. The business of mixing work and pleasure was becoming the norm for him but, confessing his feeling inside the Temple of Talos was a newer, more deranged level of odd. Though, Theodora had tried to convince him to have a liaison inside the shrine in Markarth, citing that “No one will be there, and if they are, you get to do your civic duty.” Her incredibly sound logic was not enough to sway him into leaving the comforts of the Keep, but perhaps now, she may get what she wanted. If he ignored the obvious massive statue, the lowlight of scones could be considered romantic. For now, there was nowhere else they could be alone. Praying that things go well, he can tell her somewhere better, multiple places far mor suitable of such words.

The woman who plagues his dreams walks around, inspecting the different parts of the. simple hall. Poking her head into what was the priest’s quarters, she makes a remark. 

“Oh there’s even a bed here.” She gazes lowly at him. “How awfully convenient for us.” Walking closer, she pulls on his robes. The feeling distracts him yet again.

“Theodora, in a temple? In such a holy place? Have you no shame?” 

“You” there’s an emphasis on the word “of all people, do not get to say that. Need I remind you of your position, Thalmor Justiciar Ondolemar?” It would be  fun to give in now. His eyes floating between the hungry look in hers and her lips, imaging how good they would feel on his after months. It would be very fun to have their uniforms strewn across the temple floor, but he did not come all this way for merely fun. Regaining will, he speaks. 

“As much as I desire you right now, I have something I need to tell you first.” The look in her eyes upsets him, face slightly falling and he is quick to reassure her. “Do not fret, nothing is wrong, quite the opposite rather.”

The Thalmor had done his groveling. Drunken guilt-ridden prayers and pleads going unanswered as he was forced to contend with the gravity of the situation; he did in fact love her and the acceptability of his feelings mattered not. Grand stories always positioned love on the winning side, the side of the virtuous, how could it be wrong when the act of doing so came so effortlessly? The choice to voluntarily come all the way to Windhelm was an easy one, despite the fact this mission did not demand someone of his rank and the weather was atrocious. She would be there, that had been enough to haul himself across the province. Once accepted in himself, it would not rest until spoken. She needed to know, how desperate he was to know if she felt the same and wondered if their last discussion had been indicative that she did. Had her pain surrounding love been the start of a confession? “You told me once you do not do love. The loss of your mother, and your father’s subsequent grief left you fearful of it. I understand that, you rightly feel afraid, I see why you don’t do love,” there are small droplets forming in the corner of her eyes. Wiping them away, he continues “but I do.” Her face softens as she grasps his hand. “I have made a myriad of excuses to convince myself I do not feel what I do. It is embarrassing the lengths I went to in an effort to convince myself I felt nothing for you, that your laughter did not brighten my day, that your thoughts were not compelling, that someone I was taught to hate could never be my greatest joy. Yet, there is only one rational.” The words are caught in his throat as he turns away, needing a moment to collect himself. The fear of finally verbalizing these thoughts is eclipsed by the worry that all of this is one side. He is alone in this insanity. Looking back at her, he finds the courage, wide-eyed and lips slightly curling up. “I love you, Theodora.”

“You do?” 

“I do.” He sighs slightly, unable to meet her gaze in case of rejection. 

Logically, it would be understandable. Opposing sides, duties to their respective nations, they were very much in opposition. She was their prophesied Dragonborn, now a war hero as much as she hadn’t yearned to be. All this in addition to being the most beautiful woman in all of Tamriel. She could do far better than him, far better than an invader of her homeland but he wanted her. Selfishly wanted her even if all he could promise was love. 

“Are you certain you know what you are saying?”

“I’ve never been more so, I love you.” He reaches for her other hand, clutching them both tightly to warm them. “I know I have nothing to offer you. I cannot make you any promises about the future, I cannot be with you openly, I cannot change some of the things I have done” a small concession to remedy the things he doesn’t have the strength to speak about. In time, in time. “You deserve much better, I completely understand if you do not-” The sentence ends midway, cut off as she pulls his robes, bringing their lips together.

[stellamancer]

for the trope; bang or die :3c

HORNYODA!!!!!

you just want me to say i'll fucking write gojo smut!! you just want me TO SAY THAT I'LL WRITE GOJO BANG OR DIE!!! and the answer is IF I WROTE SMUT WHICH I DO NOT. i would write gojo bang or die.

[put a fanfic trope in my ask box and i'll tell you how likely i am to write it]

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

COCKWARMING W/ JJK MEN

cw: smut

Gojo Satoru

Such a whiny boy. He's sooo confident that he can have you sit on his cock for hours and he won’t budge and even says that you won’t last. But he’s all talk. Once you sit on his pretty cock he’s fucked out. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, a thin layer of sweat covering his body and his hips bucking up into you. Pleading to his pretty girlfriend to let him cum because he can’t take it anymore. He needs you. 

“Please, please baby, f-fuck.” he whines as he keeps a solid grip on your hips sure to leave his hand prints.  

“Wait, toru… not yet baby,” you coo into his ear as you continue to meet his desperate thrusts. 

“Can I cum now? Please baby…” his lips attack your neck, pressing sloppy wet kisses into it causing you to throw your head back from the immense pleasure this man knew how to give you just from mere kisses, let alone the fact he was so deep inside you about to burst.

And he does. He fills you so good. Mouth slightly agape, eyes shut close as you feel him twitch inside you. 

“Fuck, so good” he smirks at you watching his cum drip down your thighs. 

Geto Suguru 

His cock is so deliciously thick but you hate (not really) cockwarming this man because of how much of a tease he is. He’s holding you down as you slowly sink down onto him. 

“C’mon babe… can your poor pussy take all of it?” his hand comes up to wipe the tear forming on the side of your eye. 

“Y-yes, i can” you nod as you finally bottom out on his cock. 

He brings you in for a hot kiss, the shift causing you to arch your back. Good thing he’s holding onto you so tight that he won’t let you escape, ever. Both of you carry on making out, tongues swirling around exploring each other's mouths. His hands slide up to your ass to give it a squeeze as your hands tangle in his long raven locks. Finally ending the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you both as you try to breathe. 

“I’m so fucking deep inside you,” Geto’s hand comes to your lower tummy, pointing out the slight bulge there that his cock is making. A grin appearing on his perfect face. 

Wasn’t long after, he was fucking into you. Purple orbs set on watching how you take his cock so well, over and over again. 

Nanami Kento 

Nanami who lets you cockwarm him when he’s had a long day and he’s just about to be done with work. Having his pretty wife sit down on his cock while he finishes some annoying paperwork, but you just can’t help but start moving your hips up and down on him. Desperate to tease you oh-so handsome husband. 

“Don’t be naughty honey,” he utters softly into your ear. His voice like music to your ears. “Gonna give you my cock right now.” He presses a kiss to your temple. 

“Can’t wait no more Ken,” you sigh as you begin peppering tender kisses on his neck. “Need you so bad…”

Nanami knows so well he can’t resist his wife when she is so needy for him. He throws his back at the feeling of your kisses, eyes shut tight trying to enjoy all the attention you were giving him. Honestly overwhelming the man to the point, he instinctively wraps his large arms around your waist and pumps his entire length into your cunt at a rapid pace. Not slowing down until you are filled to the brim with his cum. 

“This what you wanted honey?” He murmurs coming to kiss your cheek. 

Toji Fushiguro

Toji loves cockwarming after he fucks the living soul out of you. Holding you in a mating press as he cums inside you, he wants to make sure it stays inside so he doesn’t pull out. Instead he fucks into you painfully slow after your orgasm, leaving you with no words besides desperate whines only for his ears. Taking pride in leaving you a babbling mess, he watches you with a smirk that only makes his scar that much more attractive and prominent. Green eyes piercing into yours as he takes your hand and presses soft delicate kisses on it because in his words “it helps ease the pain” of his fat cock drilling into you. 

“Fuck… so pretty f’me” He grunts as he thrusts into you deep one more time before coming down to lay on your chest. 

“You aren’t gonna pull out?” you ask him obviously still trying to catch your breath. Your hand comes up to push his strayed hair out of his face. 

“Nah, wanna sleep like this.” he mumbles. 

And just like that, he's out cold. But don’t be surprised if you’re woken up in your sleep by him fucking into you once again because he always gets hard around his pretty baby. 

Choso Kamo

You needed to explain what cockwarming was to Choso and even after you did, he wasn’t so fond of the idea. He loved being inside you so much that he didn’t believe in himself that he wouldn’t be able to just absolutely destroy your cunt once he slipped in. 

And he was right. 

“No baby… I can’t,” he whines as you're still trying to take him inside completely. 

“Cho… you aren’t even fully inside yet,” you reiterate to him, almost scolding him. 

All he can do is shake his head before he turns you over so he's fully onto top of you. A string of curses leaving his lips as he sinks himself all the way into your silky walls. Once Choso is inside you, he’s a lost cause and no one can pull him out until he makes you cum again and again until you’re both satisfied. It was worth a shot you think to yourself before he begins fucking into you at an animalistic pace.

“Never doing that again,” he enunciates with every thrust. 

“You didn’t even try Cho,” you manage to say as he presses into you deeper. 

“I’ll let you sit on my face later… to make up for it,” you feel him smirking into your neck. 

A soft laugh echoes through the room as you nod, accepting his compromise. 

Sukuna Ryomen 

“You want to do what?” He scoffs as he watches you with a displeased look. 

“I want to sit on your cock… for a while” You try not to make contact with the curse. 

After explaining what cockwarming was to Sukuna, he was intrigued. Letting you do most of the work since it was your idea. He watches you attentively as you lube and prep yourself for him. 

“You gonna keep watching me or are you gonna help?” you give him an almost annoyed look. 

“Such a needy brat. Just come sit on it already.” He demands, staring daggers at you. 

You do just as he says and Sukuna derives immense joy from seeing you in such pain taking his monstrous cock. Lazily holding you up with one of his four arms and he watches you take him inch by inch, pain and pleasure mixing divinely. 

“Why are you crying little thing?” He asks in a worrisome tone but the stupid smirk plastered all over his face says otherwise. “I haven’t even fucking moved, yet.” 

[munsonsmixtapes]

Flattery Works With Me

Eddie Munson x shy!fem!reader

summary: with a predicament, the boys beg you to ask Eddie to postpone a DnD session because they know he will do anything you ask

part two

The conversations that were happening throughout the cafeteria rang in your ears as you headed to the table that you always sat at. The usual suspects were all there and you were going to take your seat right next to Eddie just like always. 

You were nervous to speak to him, not only because you were shy, but also because you had been meaning to ask him if the DnD session for that night could be postponed because you had a lot of homework. But you knew how he felt about that sort of thing so you were dreading it, hoping that he would agree just this once. 

Before you could sit, though, you could see Dustin, Lucas, and Mike all arguing a little ways away from the table. From the looks of it, it seemed to be pretty heated and there was no way you were getting in the middle of that. You hated hearing people argue, the loud voices always making you feel anxious because you didn’t have control of the situation. And you liked having control, craved it, even. 

But as soon as you set your tray down on the table, Lucas waved you over. You didn’t know what he was wanting, but you reluctantly made your way over to the boys, your curiosity piqued. You now had to know what their little spat had to do with you. 

“What’s going on?” You asked and Dustin was about to speak before Mike cut him off. That was something that happened often considering that Mike didn’t like how slowly Dustin would take to explain the situation. 

“Look,” he said, looking you directly in the eye. “We have a prior commitment and can’t make it to the session tonight.” You just knew that they were only telling you that because they wanted you to ask Eddie. 

“Correction: Mike was out late with El last night and got grounded so he can’t go to the session,” Lucas corrected with a roll of his eyes. 

“We were wondering if you’d talk to Eddie for us?” Dustin looked at you with hopeful eyes and the smile on his face made you want to pinch his little cheeks. 

“Why me?” You knew exactly why, but you wanted confirmation that Eddie did feel how you thought he did. That you weren’t just being delusional. Because that had happened so many times; you having a crush on someone and your feelings not being reciprocated in any way shape or form. 

“Are you kidding? The man is in love with you.” You scoffed at the comment, but couldn’t help but feel heat rise to your cheeks. Could it have been possible? You supposed you were going to have to ask, but you just couldn’t get yourself to. Asking him to postpone the session was one thing, but asking if he had feelings for you? Absolutely not. 

“Yeah, he’ll do anything you say.” There was some truth to that and if you had more confidence, you would have tested just how far you could get by batting your lashes and putting on a flirty tone. “So will you please ask him?” You were going to ask him anyway, but now there was pressure on you to actually make the move.

“Why don’t you ask him?” You didn’t understand why it had to be you. Surely he would have postponed it for them, right? 

Mike rolled his eyes and made a beeline for Eddie and you watched the conversation, barely picking up what they were saying, but Eddie definitely didn’t look happy. He then waved Mike off and the boy gave you a look as if to say “See?” 

“I told you, he won’t listen to us. But with you? I think we have a shot.” 

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. You really didn’t believe them, because why would Eddie have been interested in you? You had barely uttered a full sentence to the man in the few months that you’d known him so there was no possible way that he could have liked you like that. 

“Please?” Dustin begged one more time and the three of them jutted out their bottom lips, their eyes pleading. God, you really were a pushover. 

“Well, I do have a lot of homework to do tonight.” 

“I knew she’d do it,” Mike nodded with a smile and you ignored him, taking a deep breath and heading over to the metal head who was sitting at the end of the table. 

Eddie took no time to turn to you, a bright smile appearing on his face. You were so pretty that it was unfair and he kept wondering to himself what he had done to have been so lucky to have you in his life. He thought your shyness was adorable, the way he’d have to lean forward to hear what you were saying because of how soft spoken you were. 

And the dresses you always wore nearly killed him. The way they swung when you walked and how everyone would stare at you in the school hallway, he wondered how you didn’t realize just how beautiful you were. Surely you had to have known, but with the way you were always so surprised when he complimented you, it was clear that you had no idea. 

“Hi, Eddie,” you greeted him, trying your best to maintain eye contact with him, every time you caught sight of that beautiful brown color, you knew you’d be a goner. They were hypnotizing, so fucking pretty that it should have been a crime. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiled, turning fully in his chair to face you. “Take a seat.” If he knew it wouldn’t have made you uncomfortable, he would have offered his lap. 

You hesitantly sat in the seat next to him and he could tell you were uneasy, your anxiety palpable. He let his hand inch towards yours underneath the table, letting his pinky stroke yours gently as if asking for permission to take it. Without a word, you wrapped your pinky around his, ignoring his gaze, unpacking your lunch with your free hand.

You felt your anxiety melt away as you felt his pinky squeeze yours gently, as if to tell you that he was right there for you. And he was. He wanted to make sure that you were okay, because at that point, you were his number one priority and he would stop at nothing to help you. He wished it was possible to go into your mind and quiet the voices that were always whispering to you.

“Can I ask you something,” you asked, feeling your hands shake as you realized what you were about to do. Your voice was barely above a whisper, but Eddie just leaned forward so he could hear you. His hearing wasn’t that great anyway, but he actually kind of liked that you were so soft spoken so he had an excuse to get closer to you. 

“Anything,” he replied, giving your pinky another squeeze and you beckoned him forward. Eddie leaned closer to you with no question and you nervously reached up and tucked some hair behind his ear, cupping your hand around it before leaning in and whispering into it. 

“I-I have a lot of homework to do tonight and I was wondering if it’d be okay if we postponed the session tonight?” You asked and felt your heart hammering in your chest as you waited for his answer. You pulled away from him and bit down on your bottom lip and Eddie had to stop himself from staring, wanting to pull your lip from your teeth and kiss you, not giving a single fuck about who was looking. 

You were so goddamn adorable that he felt his chest ache. Didn’t you know that he would do anything for you? Just one bat of those eyelashes and he would have even been willing to commit murder if it meant that you would give him even a sliver of a chance. 

“Yeah,” he nodded his head furiously. “No problem. You know flattery works with me," he winked, giving you a nudge. He hadn’t even given his decision a second thought as he stood up from the table, his mushy feelings subsiding as he took on his authoritative role. 

“Alright, everyone listen up,” he said, his voice a little too loud for your liking. “The session tonight is being postponed until next week because y/n has homework to do.” You turned to the others at the table and they all groaned, digging into their pockets and pulling out money that Dustin was gratefully taking, thanking them all for the cash. 

You could hear grumbles from the others, upset that not only was there not going to be a session that night, but also because they now were out five dollars. It was seemingly a lose-lose. You turned to Eddie who was already looking at you, a warm smile playing on his pretty pink lips. 

He then leaned down and put his lips right by your ear, his hot breath on your skin making you shudder. His hand fell to your shoulder and the way his hair was fanning around you made your cheeks heat even more. 

“I can help you with your homework if you need it.” He pulled away so that your faces were only inches apart, that stupid smirk still evident on his lips. 

“I-I’d like that,” you nodded. 

“It’s a date,” he said, shooting you a wink before sitting back down in his chair. You lowered your head and began eating your lunch, letting yourself come up with things to do with Eddie because there was no way you were actually going to do your homework.

[vapekingg]

You and Eddie have this running joke.

Or at least it started as a joke.

Once Corroded Coffin started to take off, it was hard to not get jealous. All those pretty girls throwing themselves at him at every show. They'd wait at the merch table or near the back door where the band smokes their cigarettes. Even with you hanging off of his arm, they were relentless.

So Eddie started finding you before they could find him.

You liked being in the crowd during their sets. Some of the guys' girlfriends would sit sidestage, some of them would stay in the green room, but you preferred the energy of the show. Eddie always made sure you were front row, center stage. That way he could always find you.

He made a big deal out of it, too. Pointing you out every night during their last song and handing you a VIP laminate that would get you backstage. To all of these new faces, you were just another face in the crowd. It became a thing amongst their fans. Who would be the lucky girl tonight?

But it was always you.

Because you're his favorite groupie, aren't you?

That's what Corroded Coffin's security team started calling you. Jokingly, of course. But it's carried over.

"You know why you're my favorite fucking groupie?" Eddie hisses close to your face.

You can't respond. He knows you can't respond. If it weren't for both of his hands wrapped around your throat, then because he's got your legs folded up against your chest with your ankles next to his ears. Eddie's thrusts are relentless, his cock punching into your guts with brutality, and you can't make a fucking sound.

"Because you can fucking take it," he continues, punctuating the last two words with particularly rough assaults.

Your face is getting warm from the blood pooling in your head. Your brain is pounding in your temples with each stroke of his thick cock against your slick inner walls. You need to scream, but the wail trapped in your lungs sits right below Eddie's fists at the base of your throat.

"Oh, you have something to say? Didn't lose your voice screaming my name all night?" His voice is beginning to sound far off beneath the sound of your own heart thumping in your ears. "Fuck, you feel good. Squeezing my cock, baby. Don't worry, I'm gonna let you sing."

Your throat is released and Eddie's fingers slide beneath your head, weaving into your hair. A rush of air enters your lungs, and then you hear your own foul sounds.

The sound of begging, of pleading, of crying for him to never stop, to give you more.

"Please, Eddie. Please, harder, harder, harder!" Are the only words you can remember.

And you expect Eddie to mock you. He usually does, and it's usually the final nail in your coffin. What you don't expect is the tightening of his ringed fingers against your roots. He holds your head in place and spits on your face, silencing you for only a moment.

"You know this is when you're the prettiest?" Eddie says between gritted teeth.

With the blood flowing back to your brain, you begin to hear everything again. His little grunts and moans hidden by heavy breathing, the slapping of his sweat slick skin against yours, the creaking of his tour bus bunk bed. It all comes together like some sort of symphony of filth.

"When you're all fucked out. Makeup fucked, sweaty, my spit dripping down your face. You'll be even prettier with my cum leaking out of this pussy."

Your back arches into him at the mention of Eddie filling you up. He doesn't do it often. You're careful most of the time. But on special occasions... the risk is worth it.

Eddie laughs at your response, his cock pumping into your cunt faster.

"That what you want? Me to fill you up?" He asks mockingly.

That knot in your abdomen begins to tighten. Eddie's hips rut against your sensitive clit, stroking it in time with each thrust.

"Then everyone will know you're my favorite groupie, huh?"

Eddie's hips hit your core, his cock buried to the hilt, and he grinds his waist against your clit. Stars dot your vision. Every atom in your body shivers on the edge of oblivion.

"Won't they?"

[lowkeyremi]

Hey pookie, love your work and I hope you’re having a great day so far. I would like to request Haikyuu men x reader but instead of them giving reader silent treatment, we’re giving them the silent treatment. I would also prefer if it’s the same guys too. Hope this isn’t too hard and it’s totally fine if you don’t want to do it. Sorry if in any way it sounded rude, love your style and all of your posts ❤️

SILENT TREATMENT PT 2 !

pairing: suna, tsukishima, ushijima, osamu, sakusa, and iwaizumi x fem!reader (separate) note: hiii lovely!!! u don’t come off as rude at all so don’t even worry!! if anything I’m glad to write this. It’s just what I needed after coming back from my break. summary: men can be so irritating sometimes! what better way to deal with it than ignore them? (don’t do this irl, communicate is key!!!) content: slight angst to fluff, silliness, established relationships (marriage for a few + plus the same babies from the prev fic), cursing, reader is sassy, not proofread!!!! wc: 3.3k

SUNA:

“Are you seriously ignoring me right now, babe?” Rintaro stared into your soul waiting for an answer. He knows the answer already but he’ll do anything for you to talk to him.

Instead of giving him answer, you just scoff and make your way to the bedroom, where you will most definitely lock him out.

“Come on, I’ve already apologized. What else can I do?” The brunette is right on your tail. Sometimes you forget that his height allows him to cover more space than you. He’s practically right behind you.

“You can leave me the hell alone, Suna.” Last name treatment? Yep. He’s 100% fucked up. You know in his eyes it’s not a big deal but you see it as a big deal.

Your boyfriend was supposed to pick you up from work today but he had forgotten, and one top of that he went out and got drinks with his friends. Not to mention you waited a whole hour thinking maybe he was running late or something. Once you called him and realized he forgot, an uber was called and you went home.

Just as you’re about to reach for the doorknob of your bedroom, Rintaro grabbed your wrist forcing you to stop.

“Let. Go.” You say through closed teeth.

“Please listen to me,” He’s… pleading? Your boyfriend never pleads for anything- well that’s an exaggeration, he rarely pleads for things.

“Start talking.”

“As I said earlier, I am very sorry, baby. I felt like I was forgetting something today, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Next time you need me to come get you, send me a text an hour before you get off work, okay?” His voice is tender and soft. Nothing like his usually snarky and playful attitude.

There’s a petty urge to not forgive him just yet, but at the same time, he’s being super sincere and honest. All you do is sigh and take your hand out of his grasp.

“If you’re really sorry, buy me dinner.” His mouth ticks up into a small smirk.

“What do you want to eat?” He asks.

TSUKISHIMA:

Kei tries to go in for a kiss, again, with no luck. He’s looking at you with the most lovesick look, because you always fall for it.

“I wasn’t laughing at you.” He says AGAIN, which is a lie. He was laughing at you and of course you’re mostly immune to Kei’s quips and remarks, but you were feeling a little butt hurt after he laughed at you.

“You WERE laughing at me, Kei.” His long, pale arm reaches for the baseball cap on your head, but before he can take it off you grab his hand and squeeze it as hard as you can.

“Ow- shit, that hurts.” He says trying to pry his hand from your grip.

“Yeah well that’s how I felt when you laughed.” You let go of his hand and turn away from him. You’re both sitting on the couch but you’re facing away from him.

“I’ve already told you, I wasn’t laughing at you, it just caught me by surprise.” A little “hmph” leaves your lips and you cross your arms.

Before Kei went to go get the groceries you told him you were going to do something to your hair, a slight adjustment. He’d only been half listening at the time, so when he walked in to see your hair, he started to laugh on instinct.

Of course you felt insecure and went to put on a baseball cap to cover it up.

“Can I see it again?” He asks very softly, his hand ghosts over your shoulder and you don’t lean away from his touch this time.

“Fine, but I swear if you fucking laugh, you’ll have to asking Yamaguchi if you can stay over at his place cuz I’ll kick you out.” His angelic little chuckle blesses your ears.

“Kick me out of the place we both pay for?” He asks, quite assumed at your statement.

“Yes.” Before he can get another word in you slowly take the cap off for him to see.

His hand creeps toward your head, he hesitates right when he’s about to touch your hair.

“Can I?” He’s so polite despite how mean he can be.

In an effort to remain salty you say, “I don’t care.”

His fingers are so gentle when touching your hair that you feel little tingles in your body.

“It’s really cute, babe. Let me just-” He moves a baby hair that’s sticking out, then his eyes meet yours. They’re so beautiful, but so are yours.

“I’m sorry for laughing.”

USHIJIMA:

It had been an accident therefore he didn’t even realize you were ignoring him. He thought that maybe you just wanted some time to yourself.

You waited hours for him to realize you were upset with him, but it never came. If anything you thought he was ignoring you. (That wasn’t true at all though)

Nao notices his parents haven’t talked to each other most of the day, so he comes to you. It’s almost his bedtime and you see that Wakatoshi had given him a bath and he’s got his pajamas on.

Little Nao climbs up your bed and crawls up to you, “Hi baby, what’s up?”

“You not talkin’ to Daddy?” Nao is very perceptive for a three year old.

“Um.. no.” He tilts his head at your response.

“Why?” How can you explain it in kid terms??

"Mommy's not happy with Daddy right now." He nods in understanding but proceeds to ask another question.

“Oh. But why?” Now that you’re thinking about it, it’s kind of childish.

This morning when the two of you woke up, Wakatoshi had asked if you’d seen his wedding ring. Then, proceeded to explain that he had taken it off when he went to work, because he left the chain he usually wears it on at home. So, he assumed it was somewhere in his bag. Of course he found it, but it just ticked you off that he had taken it off with little regard for it.

“A little disagreement is all.” Your son nods again and gives you a hug. He doesn’t like when you guys get into the occasional argument.

They don’t happen often, because you two are able to work stuff out. When they do happen you both agreed that they shouldn’t be in front of your son. Not only because it’s not right, but because Wakatoshi had grown up in a household where his parents constantly argued with little regard for how he felt on the matter. He would never subject Nao to that.

“It’s time for bed, Nao.” Wakatoshi says. How long has he been standing there?

“Okay, Daddy.” Nao kisses your cheek before scurrying off of your bed. Since he’s not good with noise control yet, you over here him asking Wakatoshi to make up with you, because he doesn’t like when you guys are unhappy with each other.

After twenty minutes your husband returns. “So you were upset with me?” It’s so like him to get straight to it.

“Yeah, I was kind of ignoring you until you came to me, but I forgot you can’t really pick up on those queues.” He nods, almost abnormal like. He rids himself of his shirt and turns the lights down.

After he’s done doing that, he joins you in the bed.

Right as you’re about to explain yourself he speaks up, “it’s because I had forgotten my ring, right?”

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

“Yes, and I see now that it was childish of me. You’re human, we all slip up.”

“No, no, I understand. I think I would be a little upset if you’d taken your ring off and tossed it somewhere.” He says, olive colored eyes looking into yours.

“You tossed it?” He shakes his head at the misunderstanding.

“I did not. I was just using it as an example.” Relief washes through you and you scoot closer to hug your husband. His skin feels so warm.

“Okay, good.”

“Are we alright now?” He asks hugging you back.

“Yes.”

OSAMU:

Never in a million years would you have thought you’d be staying at Atsumu’s place instead of your shared home with his brother, but yet here you are.

Speak of the devil Atsumu knocks on the guest room door and you tell him to come in.

“What’s up?” You’re pretty sure he’s going to ask you to talk to his brother. He’s been calling and texting you for the past three days. He’s probably been calling Atsumu too.

“Can ya just talk it out with him? ‘Samu’s been blowin’ up my phone, ‘n I know he’s probably been calling ya, too.” He looks tired of the both of you and you feel bad putting him in the middle of this mess, but there’s no way you’ll be talking to your husband anytime soon.

“No.” Atsumu sighs almost knowing you would say that.

“He’s worried about ya, ‘n I’m sure he’s very sorry too.”

Three days ago Osamu had a very busy and stressful day at the shop, it was just awful. When he arrived home it was evident that his day was shitty, so you tried to cheer him up.

That only made matters worse, as he proceeded to yell at you to “leave him the fuck alone.” and “your voice is making my head hurt.” Even though you knew he was saying that in the heat of the moment and he didn’t mean it, it still hurt to hear.

You yelled back at him telling him that you were doing what you could to make him feel better and that he was an asshole. When he didn’t say anything in return you rushed to the bedroom to pack a few days worth of clothes and get the hell out of there.

Was that a little bit extra? Yes. You could have probably just slept in your own guest room or on the couch, and then talk it out in the morning, but you were so pissed that your logic went straight out the door.

“Well… er… I-” You could see the guilt in Atsumu’s eyes when a string of loud knocks were heard.

“You called him over?” Atsumu looked away as not to meet your eyes.

“I caved when he said he was worried about ya ‘n ya didn’t even tell him where ya were goin’” Atsumu faked a cough before excusing himself to get the door.

Within seconds you see your husband standing at the bedroom door and your heart breaks when you see him. It had only been three days (2 nights) and he looked exhausted and miserable.

Before you could get a word in he dashes over to you and embraces you in a tight hug.

“Baby ‘m so so sorry.” He chants over and over.

“Please don’t do that again, ya scared the livin’ shit outta me.” Osamu was always better at hiding his accent than Atsumu, but when he was really stressed it would come out.

“I didn’t mean for you to worry like that, ‘Samu. I didn’t really think when I left.” He sits himself down on the bed not letting you go, he places you on his lap and you’re basically straddling him.

You squeeze him back just as tight. “I was so mad that you talked to me like that.”

“‘n I’ll never do it again. Even on my bad days ya don’t deserve that.”

You take in a big whiff of his cologne and you audibly relax in his arms.

“You better not because I might slap you next time.”

“Feel free to.” He says.

Atsumu ruins the moment with the most obnoxious fake gag, “Are ya straddl- actually I don’t fuckin’ care. Do that at yer own damn place!!”

SAKUSA:

When you woke up to your alarm, you realized Kiyoomi already left for work. Which that in and of itself wasn’t a problem. It was the fact that he left without dropping your daughter off for school.

Not to mention that you had a very important meeting with a client today. You got ready for work thinking about how you were doing well on time… until you noticed your daughter’s lunchbox sitting on the counter with nothing in it.

In breakneck pace, you ran to your daughter’s room to see that she was peacefully sleeping. “Oh baby, wake up we’ve got to go.” She starts to gain consciousness, her eyes squinting open when you turn on the light.

“Huh? I thought Daddy was taking me today.” Your little girl rubs the sleep from her eyes.

“He was but I guess he already left,” you search frantically for something simple but presentable for your daughter to wear.

“Oh, you’ve got your fancy business outfit on… is there something important today?” You’re so grateful to have a daughter who can read between the lines.

“Yes, there is but Mommy’s gonna be late.” She frowns up at that.

“Sorry.”

“Honey it’s not your fault, your father was the one who was supposed to take you.” She nods.

The two of you work together to get out of the house quickly so you won’t be that late.

Your daughter will only be running a few minutes late for school… as for you, your meeting started four minutes after you started driving to her to school, and the school is a twenty minute drive.

You’re gonna fucking kill your husband for this.

When you get to your daughter’s school she hops out immediately and says her goodbyes.

“Bye sweet girl! Have a great day at school!!” Of course you won’t let your anger get the best of you… for right now.

Luckily, your client was kind enough to excuse you being almost thirty minutes late, but it was still embarrassing nonetheless.

Some of your coworkers teased you a little bit afterwards.

“Slept in?” One who’s particularly close to you (he calls you his work wife and Kiyoomi hates it) asks nudging your arm.

“Nope, my husband forgot to take our daughter to school this morning.” A loud sigh leaves your lips and you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Yikes, bet he’s gonna be in the doghouse for awhile.” He snorts.

“Hell yeah he will be. I’m just wondering, how in the world did he forget?? He’s better at remembering things between the two of us.” And that’s the truth. You’re curious as to what his excuse will be.

“Well he’s human too, ‘course he’s bound to screw up at sometime.” Even though he’s right, you let your pettiness take over and decide that you won’t give Kiyoomi the benefit of the doubt.

“I’m home,” you hear your husband shout from the genkan. Your daughter is at the table doing homework and you’re sitting with her browsing through your phone.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He walks in to the kitchen greeting his daughter with a kiss on her forehead.

“Hi, Daddy.” She says with a small smile.

“Hey baby.” As he leans in to kiss your forehead too, you dodge it.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion, “You okay?” Kiyoomi smells like his body wash and shampoo. Usually you’d be happy to have your nostrils filled with the smell of his post practice shower, but right now it just upsets you.

You got up from the table and walked away without answering his question. He obviously attempted to follow you to the bedroom, only for the door to be shut in his face.

“Hey what’s up with you?” You can hear the irritation in his voice through the door. He has no right to be irritated though.

Instead of answering him you make yourself comfortable on the bed.

After ten minutes of him trying to ask you what was wrong and literally begging you started to feel bad enough and open the door.

“What’s wrong is that you forgot to take our daughter to school this morning, causing me to be late to a very important meeting with a client.” His eyes widen in horror at your statement.

“Shit, I’ve been so focused on how I was going to go about this upcoming fan event for the past couple of days, that I completely forgot. You have every right to be mad.” Right, your husband still isn’t very social, and he still hates receiving gifts from his fans. Of course he’d been trying to figure out how to make an appearance, but not interact with anyone.

“Damn right, luckily my client was nice but it was still embarrassing.” He frowns.

“I apologize, and I’ll make sure to do better next time.” You roll your eyes and pull him in for that kiss.

“Yeah yeah, I guess you forget things too.”

IWAIZUMI:

Iwa hasn’t realized it, but while helping out this girl at the gym (he’s an athletic trainer and he couldn’t sit there and watch that girl screw up pull ups any longer) he was so oblivious to her obvious flirting.

She would bend over in those tight leggings, or hold onto his bicep for support. And yes, it was dumb for you to be upset with him, because one, you’re his wife and he only has eyes for you, and two, he didn’t even realize she was flirting with him.

“How are your sets coming along, baby?” He came over to ask you while the girl was getting water. Yeah, you know how to do all of these work outs, but you like having your man right there to spot you and correct your posture in the slightest way.

You pretend you don’t hear him, because you’re listening to music in your headphones. To sell the deal, you even mouth the lyrics of the song.

He raises a brow in concern. As soon as he goes to say something, the woman returns, “Iwazumi-san? I’m ready to continue!”

“I’ll be back.” He says, running back to that woman. You roll your eyes as you come down for a squat with a 25 lb kettlebell in your hands.

By the time you’re cooling down on the treadmill, Iwaizumi returns to you.

“What’s wrong with you?” He knows you can hear him, because even when you’re working out together, you keep your headphones at a reasonable volume, so you can hear him.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s up with you letting that woman touch all over you?” In an effort to ignore him again you turn the speed up on the treadmill.

“Really? Baby, you know my job requires me to touch people.”

“God, I know that. I’m not even talking about you, I’m talking about how she was all over you, and you didn’t even notice or anything.” He’s laughing? You just told him how you feel and he laughs?

He walks over to the front of the treadmill where all the buttons are and slows it down to a walking speed.

“Honey, I told her to stop touching me more than what was necessary. It was indecent and inappropriate. Then I told her I was married to you and I think she decided to keep going…” He pauses for a second waiting for you to come to a walking pace.

“Wanna know what I told her next?” He takes your silence as a sign to keep going, “I said ‘I suggest you stop provoking my wife, she knows how to fight and I would hate to see her behind bars for something like this.’” He smirks at you and you look away in embarrassment.

“And you were really going at it during your workout so I’m assuming she took my word for it.”

You stop the treadmill and hop off to stand right in front of your husband.

“Sorry for being so petty.” He just smiles at you.

“No don’t apologize, I don’t blame you babe. I’d be the same way if some guy was all over you, with no good reason.” You grab him by the collar of his compression shirt, “You’re so damn hot. Let’s get out of here.”

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Yeah.”

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

Note: last purple post!! 🥹 since i started this while my theme was purple. the hardest part of writing this was coming up with something sensible to be upset about 😭

[vmlnrznotfound]

MY GIRL IS MAD AT ME, I HOPE I DIE.

characters: isagi, sae, rin, kaiser

ISAGI YOICHI

yoichi isagi had been following you around the house like a lost puppy, his apologies and explanations coming in a steady stream. “i’m sorry,” he’d say, over and over, each time you walked past him, hoping for some acknowledgment. but you were resolutely ignoring him, your frustration palpable.

he sighed heavily as he sank onto the couch, looking dejected. his usually bright demeanor was dimmed by the weight of your silence.

moments later, you emerged from your room looking fresh and ready to go out. your outfit—a skirt and stockings—highlighted your figure, your thighs, and yoichi’s eyes widened with a mix of surprise and longing. just as you were about to step out, he leaped off the couch and carried you, pulled you onto his lap, his hands firmly securing your thighs.

“please, i’m really sorry,” yoichi pouted, leaning in close. “let me kiss you.”

his lips moved toward yours, but you pushed him back gently, shaking your head. he tried again, leaning in with determination, but once more, you pushed him away. each attempt was met with your firm resistance, and yoichi’s frustration grew.

desperate and determined, yoichi finally laid you down on the couch, his body hovering over yours. his expression was a mixture of pleading and earnestness.

“i’m sorry!” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “please forgive me. just let me kiss you.”

his eyes searched yours with a hopeful desperation. despite your initial resistance, the sincerity in his voice and the vulnerability in his gaze began to chip away at your frustration.

“you really don’t understand, do you?” you said softly, your anger beginning to wane.

“i do now,” he murmured against your lips. “and i'm sorry. please kiss me?”

ITOSHI SAE

you walked into the living room, still fuming from the argument you had with sae. as you entered, your eyes widened at the sight of him enjoying the last cookie—your cookie. the irritation you felt from the earlier argument was only intensified by this minor yet significant act of betrayal.

you mumbled something under your breath, turning on your heel and heading toward the door. the tension in the air was thick, and sae watched you with a mixture of guilt and frustration.

moments later, the doorbell rang. you answered it to find the delivery guy holding a bag. he handed it to you, explaining that it was prepaid. you glanced inside, seeing a variety of snacks, cookies, and—curiously—condoms. when you asked who ordered it, the delivery guy simply said it was for sae.

with annoyance, you took the bag and tossed it onto the sofa, where sae was sitting. he immediately grabbed your arm, pulling you toward him with a sudden urgency.

you landed on top of him, your face inches from his. the intensity of the situation made you even more aware of the tension between you. sae’s hands traveled up to your sides, making their way to your ass, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the previous forcefulness.

“i didn't realise you wanted that cookie. will you not forgive me?” sae murmured, his eyes searching yours for any sign of softness. his hands moved lower, brushing against your thighs.

“why should i?” you replied, your voice edged with defiance.

sae sighed, his frustration mingling with the desire to make things right. “because i’m trying. i’m really trying to show you that i care. just…let me prove it.”

he leaned in closer, his lips inches from yours, his gaze intense. “please, forgive me.”

ITOSHI RIN

the moment you moved from one room to another in the house, rin itoshi was right behind you. he trailed after you silently, his frustration growing with each step as you continued to ignore him. he tried to catch your eye, to offer a word or a touch, but you remained resolutely distant.

no matter where you went—into the kitchen, then the living room, then back to the hallway—rin followed, his presence a constant shadow. his attempts to bridge the gap between you seemed to be failing, and the tension in the air grew thicker.

it was when you turned with a "hmph", when finally, rin’s patience snapped. he stepped forward, grabbing you by the waist with a firm grip. before you could react, he lifted you off your feet and carried you toward the bedroom. his steps were determined, his jaw clenched with a mix of anger and desperation.

once inside the bedroom, he laid you down on the bed, his body hovering over you. his eyes burned with a fierce emotion, a rare display of vulnerability and frustration.

“i’ve done it!” rin’s voice cracked with intensity. “i’ve apologized a million fucking times. i’m sorry, goddammit. just forgive me already!”

the raw emotion in his voice was unmistakable. his face was close to yours, his eyes searching for any sign of forgiveness or understanding. despite your lingering anger, his forcefulness and the sincerity behind his words began to pierce through your defenses.

you looked up at him, stunned by the abruptness of his actions and the depth of his plea. his usual calm demeanor was replaced with a desperate need for reconciliation.

“i…rin,” you started, but he cut you off, his tone softening as he continued to hold your gaze.

“i’m tired of this,” he said quietly, his voice now filled with a pleading tone. “i need you to see that i care. i want to make things right. please, just tell me what i need to do.”

MICHAEL KAISER

you were lounging on the sofa, flipping through tv channels, when kaiser walked in, holding a beautifully arranged plate of your favorite food. he had gone all out, dressing the dish with care and placing it on the coffee table in front of you.

you barely glanced at the plate, your attention fixed on the tv. kaiser’s face fell slightly, but he tried to stay upbeat.

“hey,” he said, trying to catch your attention. “i made your favorite. i thought it might help.”

you continued to ignore him, switching channels with a sigh. kaiser’s smile faltered, and he set the plate aside, clearly hurt by your response.

taking a deep breath, he suddenly dropped to his knees in front of you, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and desperation. the shift in his demeanor was striking, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“i’ve already apologized so many times!” kaiser’s voice cracked with emotion. “what do you want me to do? kill myself? is that what you want?”

his words came out in a rush, but seeing the sadness in your eyes, he quickly realized how harsh they sounded. he quickly amended his statement, his voice trembling slightly.

“i won’t do it,” he said, more gently. “don’t you dare think that.”

he reached out, taking your hand in his, his grip firm but reassuring. “i’m here, and i’m trying. i just need you to give me a chance to show you that i’m serious about making things right.” he says kissing your ankles.

[kamiversee]

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

6 | like a feather.

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | language, rough sex, degrading, praise, overstim, edging, teasing, taunting, Choso's mean because yes, filth, praise, pussydrunk Choso, feral activities, etc.

❧ Word Count | 5.6k

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——Clothes scattered to the floor, soft pants leaving both of your lips while his two big hands grip the underside of your thighs and spread you nice and wide for him. You always knew your best friend was stupidly attractive but it’s entirely different when you’re about to have sex with him.

His hips were easing back and forth, boxers long discarded and the fat tip of his swollen cock rubbing all in between your slicked folds. And there you are with your hands above your head where he last told you to keep them, watching him with a gaping mouth as he sits there and teases your cunt.

Choso’s body was slightly glistening in that dim lighting of his bedroom, his abs tensing along with his eyebrows every time he pushed his hips forward just to watch his flushed tip slip against your pussy. The messy little sound of your slick wetting up his cock drove both you and him wild.

He was such a damn tease. So mean with the way he’d barely push the tip of his cock inside you, just to draw his hips back and bite his lip at the way his tip slides against your sloppy slit. He was driving you insane.

So much so that you soon brought one hand down to attempt to relieve yourself, Choso’s dark brown eyes flicker up to your face in warning, “What’d I tell you about that, hm?”

You let off a sweet yet desperate whine, “Choso, please?” Your hand goes idle and he smirks.

Nodding his chin at your hand now out of place, “Put your arm back where I had it, princess. M’not gonna tell you again,” Choso says in that deep voice of his. Then he’s easing his hips back again, angling himself so that his cock pressing right against your needy hole, “This is where you want me, right?”

“Mhm,” You hum, pulling your lower lip into your mouth. This was almost embarrassing— your hands above your head, his hands on your thighs, and only his hips being in control of how his cock angles against you. “Cho, hah… you said you’d treat me like a slut so-“

“No,” He interrupts so casually as he glances down to the obscene display of his cock rutting in between your folds, “I said I’d treat her,” Choso spits straight down onto his tip, tilting his head and smirking as he makes even more of a mess below, “Like a slut. Big difference, princess.”

You merely pout at that, your eyes softening in utter desperation as you lift your hips slightly— attempting to feel more of him, “Either way,” You huff softly, “You said you wanted to fuck me so just…”

“Just what?” Choso breathes out, dragging his heavy cock back and forth against you once more.

You swear you’ve been pleading for him for the past thirty minutes or so, “Fuck me-“

Choso smirks, “Beg for it,” He says suddenly as he shifts his angry cockhead away from you for a second just to tap his tip against you moments later, “Since you want it so badly, beg for it-, beg for me.”

You hate the way his lowly spoken words have you complying without thought, “Please?” Such a light little whine was hushed out and there he was biting back a groan.

He couldn’t even bring himself to deny you any further. As much as he enjoys teasing you and rubbing his leaky tip up and down your sloppy folds, feeling you twitch against him every time he speaks, leak with every glance, and whine at the faintest loss of him— Choso doesn’t think there’s anything that compares to the way you sound gasping out his name as he finally angles his cock into you.

And sure, you had plenty of time to admire his cock before he started pushing into you but fuck the last thing you were expecting is this mean curve of his. Pushing in inch by inch, his brows tensing and jaw-dropping, Choso was on the verge of moaning at how you felt around him.

Hell, he practically loses himself completely. His hands move away from your thighs and he leans down to you, feeling your legs wrap around his waist as he keeps pushing in and in and in. You could hear his breath hitching as his cock slides deeper inside you but what really caught you off guard is his struggle to talk.

Choso’s hair is still a complete mess and you notice how breathy his voice is, “Oh fuck,” He gasps with his brows fully tense, “You’re so-, agh… so fuckin’ warm, shit.”

And you’re both adjusting to each other perfectly fine at first. He’s easing himself in and out of you carefully, pulling his hips back and then rolling them back down slowly-, carefully even. That is, until his eyes focus on your face. Maybe it was the way your eyes hazily met his, or the sound of you gasping every time he humped his heavy cock deeper into you but, either way, it makes him groan.

“Fuuck,” Choso drags out, “Look at you,” He coos, tilting his head as his eyes rake up and down your expression, “Y’look so pretty like this,” He suddenly compliments.

Both his tone and oddly kind words make your cunt squeeze around him, earning a hiss from his mouth. “You only think m’pretty when you’re fucking me?” You whisper almost jokingly.

Choso shrugs and your little joke makes him smile, “I’ve called you pretty before, haven’t I?” He murmurs back to you.

As this little chat continues, he’s slowly picking up his pace inside you, “N-Not recently, no,” You stammer.

“Well, I’d keep complimenting you but uh,” Choso clicks his tongue and you feel his hands latch onto your thighs again. Then, in an instant, he’s moving your legs up and pressing them down against your chest, “That’s not how you wanna be treated tonight, now is it?” He finishes.

You would’ve answered him normally but the way his cock plunges deeper inside you, hitting somewhere all too sweet, has you choking on whatever it is you were gonna say. And he notices it too, the slight shift in your breathing, the way a whine gets caught in your throat, and your cunt clenching around him as if you didn’t want him to move.

“You’d much rather be treated like a lil’ whore f’me, right?” Choso huffs out rhetorically. Of course, he expects no real answer from you while he stuffs you full of his cock, ignoring how tightly you’re clamping around him. 

The sounds are so filthy too— your cunt was soaked, sopping even, as he thrusts his swollen cock into you. That syrupy squelch had Choso in a goddamn trance, his eyes flickering back, the veins decorating his muscular arms tensing as he fucks himself deeper and deeper inside you. Choso’s lips part at some point and he groans, feeling your legs dangle against his shoulders and the way your pussy narrows around his thick shaft.

The sheets below were already wet from you, followed by that obscene sound of slick coating his curved cock as he angles it into you. Your moans were being drowned out by the melodic sound of your pussy and it had Choso in a chokehold. 

Maybe it’s because you’re his best friend and he’s known you for about eight years but, Choso seems to know your body like the back of his hand. Shifting himself right where you need him, feeling your pussy gush as his tip knocks into your sweet spot repeatedly.

“C-Choso,” You gasp, “Fuck, mmgh…”

Choso shakes his head almost in disbelief suddenly, “Comin’ in my room late at night,” He starts off, losing himself in his replay of how the two of you ended up like this in the first place, “Askin’ me for ‘advice’ knowing damn well all you needed was for someone t’fuck you properly,” He grunts out that last word with a heavy thrust, watching your eyes flicker back.

While your eyes lull back, you’re gasping out a teasing little response back to him, “Don’t ah-, a-act like you didn’t want the-, hah… same thing, Cho.”

His lips twitch at the sound of your breathy voice, his hips growing more calculated with you, “Huh?”

“You’ve probably been f-fantasizing about this all d-day…” Your bottom lip slips into a slight pout as you hush those words out to him.

All Choso can do is smile at that. He can’t exactly say he hasn’t thought about this very moment once or twice today, “Think so?” He soon muses.

Waiting for your answer, he watches the number of times your face twists up– studying you, fucking his fat cock into you harder, holding back his noises, and-, hell, he was nearly holding his breath just so he could savor every little sound that leaves those pretty lips of yours.

“Uhuh…” You eventually gasp out.

Choso blinks away from his intense focus to the sounds he can get out of you, “What’s it feel like?”

Your brows twist up and your eyes flicker as you struggle to process his question, “Hm?”

“Does it feel like I’ve been fantasizing ‘bout this all day?” Choso emphasizes with a particularly hard thrust, “Huh?”

And oh how you love teasing your best friend, even when his cock is a hefty seven inches deep inside you, “N-No..” You mumble to the man, watching the immediate way his face twists up.

“No?” Choso practically scowls at you, “So I’m not fuckin’ you hard enough?”

A small little smile spreads across your face as your glossed-up eyes meet his, “Y-You could… mmgh, you could be fuckin’ me harder.”

Choso’s practically speechless for a second, continuing with his same ‘steady’ pace as he cocks his head to the side, “This isn’t enough for ya’, huh?”

“N-No, I just-“

“Greedy girl,” Is the last thing he growls out before pressing his weight down against you.

The underside of your thighs sandwiches against his chest and you swear you feel his cock twitching wildly inside you. Choso’s hips pivot down against you as he positions himself to be a bit more firm with the way he’s fucking you. 

Your eyes nearly cross at how he has you folded up and unable to move, forced to take every unforgiving inch of his angry curved cock. Then he has the nerve to stare you dead in your eyes with his low-lidded ones, deep brown eyes dilating the longer he looks at you.

“Oh fuck,” You gasp, feeling him slip his thumb in between the two of you and down to your clit.

Choso smirks again, “Look at you— fuckin’ droolin’ f’me,” He points out as his gaze dances down to the small trail of saliva leaving your lips.

You were almost completely out of it, clenching around him so desperately, moaning so loud that the neighbor would be ready for the noise complaint within twenty-four hours, and making this fucking face that had Choso pounding you down into his bed.

God if you weren’t every bit of sexy at this very moment.

“Choso,” You choke out as he thumbs your clit in small merciless little circles and doesn’t let up on you for even a second.

“Don’t Choso me,” He scoffs, “You wanted me to go harder ‘nd that’s what I’m doin’.”

The two of you are pretty sure his words are going through one ear and out the other because with the way your eyes are lulling to the back of your skull and you’re left under him just gasping and gaping with every thrust— you’re both positive that you’re pretty cockdrunk at this point.

How could you not be? You don’t know if you’d say it aloud but fuck is Choso’s cock huge. He hits all the right places and more, places you didn't even realize you had. And to make matters worse, he knows what he’s doing too. He just eyes the way your lashes flutter, listens for a specifically pitched whine of his name to leave your throat, and feels that soul-sucking grip you have around his dick every time he tries to tug his hips back— all of which lets him know he’s doing something right.

But then again, the sound of you blabbing out things like, “Feels so g-good, hah..” Assures him as well.

To which he lets his little ego present itself to you, “Oh I know it does, princess.” Choso whispers, tipping his head down a bit to lick that earlier slip of drool from off of your chin.

You pay almost no mind to it though, too distracted by that ego of his, “Cocky hgnh, b-bastard.”

“Hm?” Choso hums before softly kissing at the corner of your lips and whispering yet again, “What was that?”

“You heard me.” You grit out.

He can’t help his grin. Maybe your voice turned him on or something because every time you said something, especially if it was something teasing, his cockhead is just dripping inside you and you can feel his veins throbbing against your plush walls. 

“Nah, repeat that f’me,” He hums, slowing his pace ever so slightly, “Cocky what?”

“C-Choso-,” You gasp again as the creaking of the bed slows and his thumb rolls upwards against your clit.

He kisses the edge of your mouth again, “Say it again. C’mon, lemme hear you this time.”

You moan softly, feeling his cock curve right into where you needed him most, “Bastard, hah..”

“I’m no bastard, baby. Cause if I was…” He pauses to take a breath before smirking, “I’d do somethin’ like this,” And then his cock slips out of you completely and you nearly spasm.

The mean loss of him so suddenly had you on the verge of tears. Gasping a whiny little, “Put it back in, Cho. Pleease?”

To which he just decides to be an asshole for a bit longer and thrust his bulging cock against your throbbing cunt instead of inside you. “Put it back in, huh? But I thought I was a bastard, princess?”

“Choso, p-please,” You whisper. You were about to lose your damn mind, he was exactly where you needed him and now your cunt’s just clenching around nothing, “I-I’m so close.”

“Yeah?” Choso responds as if he didn’t know that already, “You were ready t’cum f’me?”

You nod desperately, “Uhuh.”

Then he’s leaning up, easing his weight off of you as he sits back on his heels. “So you’re done bein’ a lil’ brat then, right?” He asks with a little huff.

As if not to have him get too far away from you, you ease your legs down from your chest and shift closer to him. “Mhm,” You hum mindlessly with a cute attempt at reaching your hand down for his cock again.

Choso’s eyes follow your hand almost in a daze, mesmerized by how needy you are for him, “Promise?”

“Pinky promise Cho, now please..” You huff.

“Ready to take all of me like the good slut you promised to be f’me?” He asks almost finally. Then, he’s reaching for your hips and repositioning both of you— flipping himself over and pulling you on top of him, “Hm?”

Your lashes bat as you’re repositioned to straddle him so quickly, “Y-Yes Choso.” You stammer with your eyes all over how he looks below you.

With his hair all laid out against the mattress, his chest rising and falling with every heavy breath he takes, his body slick with sweat, and muscular arms at his sides as he grabs a steady hold of your hips.

Then you’re looking down and spotting his cock— watching how it twitches so aggressively with nothing more than a mere glance from you, eyeing down how cum leaks from the slit of his blushing cockhead, and practically drooling all over again. And not in only one place because you think you just got impossibly wetter from the sight of him underneath you like this.

“Well?” Choso breathes out before moving to put his hands back behind his head, “I was tryin’ to be nice for once, princess. If you want it so bad, stop starin’ ‘nd just t-,” He stammers off with a throaty groan as your fingers wrap around his cock so suddenly, “T-Take it.”

Was this his way of submitting to you? You almost smirk at the thought of that alone, adjusting yourself above him so that your pussy is hovering right over his tip, grazing him with your moisture. Choso’s breathing picks up instantly and he almost starts to regret putting you on top of him, almost.

What saves him from that regret is probably how enamoring you look sinking yourself down on his cock. He thinks he sees your pupils dilate the very second his cock slides back inside you and your lips quiver open as you moan his name so damn deliciously.

Shit. Choso was going to let you do your own thing but simply watching you sink down on him so sensually has his hips lifting to meet yours. A pair of hands are soon placed on his chest as you force him to keep still and Choso’s head tips back against his bed, his cock aching inside you.

There was that warmth again, such slick and wet filthy warmth that just surrounds the entirety of his cock in almost one go.

“Oh, fuuuck me,” Choso groans unintentionally, his hands moving from behind his head and right back to your hips.

His sudden grip is so damn tight too, like he’s literally holding on for dear life. And hey, maybe he was. This was an entirely new angle inside your cunt after all. Choso doesn’t know if he’s imagining it but he thinks you got tighter within those few seconds he wasn’t inside you.

What really throws him off is the first rock of your hips against him. Choso lets out the moan he’s been holding in all this time and his hips are lifting again.

“Choso?” You whisper his name so suddenly that it just rips him from his daze completely.

Panting heavier than he remembers, his eyes flutter before they land on yours, “H-Huh?”

You slowly lift your hips up and his eyes drop down to the sight of your puffy lips pulling up off of his cock, revealing a surprising slick of white before you start sinking back down.

“Oh shit,” Choso gasps, realizing he came prematurely from nothing more than the change of positioning alone.

You’ve got the smug look on your face, “D-Did… Did you just…?”

He nods his head and squeezes his eyes shut, “…I did.”

Despite Choso’s sudden release, you nor him exactly stop at that point. If anything, you kinda laugh it off and move your hips gently against him, “Cho, is that all it takes to make you cum?” You suddenly tease.

He rolls his eyes at you and his hands slide up to hold your waist, “Don’t fuckin’ tease me,” Choso gasps slightly, relishing in the slight aftershock of his abrupt orgasm, “You don’t know how-, fuck, how good you feel.”

You drag your fingernail along his sculpted chest, blindly admiring each cut and crease of his abs while your hips idly rock back and forth at such a torturously slow pace. “So tell me then,” You tease, earning a hiss from him as your fingertip flicks over his flushed nipple.

Choso grits his teeth for a moment, lowly eyeing how confident you seem to have gotten. “I jus’ did,” He huffs, “Now stop bein’ difficult ‘nd just fuck-,” His throat clears as he corrects himself, “Ride me.”

You tilt your head at the man and twirl your finger around his all too perky nipple, only teasing him further, “Say please.”

“I’m not beggin’ you to do shit,” Choso huffs.

Such a damn brat he was, even underneath you and panting heavier and heavier each time you toyed with his chest a bit.

“Asshole,” You frown, leaning down to him a bit and causing your hips to lift up off his cock ever so slightly, “You made me beg.”

His lips twitch into a smirk, “Baby, why would I beg for somethin’ I already have?” Then his hands are slipping back down to your hips and he’s pushing you down on him again, “Remember, I’m the one that put you on top of me.”

The way your brows twist up and your face scrunches are all too cute. Choso imagined this moment with you here and there but his fantasies will never compare to the real thing. Especially not with the way he easily guides your hips against him and you just sit there with that scowl on your face, letting him have his way with you even while he’s under you.

“Fuck you,” You whisper while you sit up properly and frustratedly glance down to where you two are connected. The sight below is so damn lewd.

With a messy white ring of cum already collected around Choso’s thick base, your pussy lips stretched just to take every inch of him, and both of you throbbing for more— it was just purely obscene below.

“That’s all you have t’say? ‘Fuck me?’” Choso mocks, raising a brow, “What happened to all that confidence of yours, huh?”

You groan, “Do you ever stop, mmh-, talking?”

He moves to take his hands off of you and prop himself up on his elbows, shaking his head slightly to move some of his messy hair out of his face before cracking a smile, “Why would I?” He then nods his chin toward your lower half, “She likes when I talk.”

As if to fight back with more than just breathy words, your hips jerk forward and earn a quick tensing of his brows in pleasure, “No, ‘she’ would just love if you shut the hell up for one second,” Your words come out almost all at once as you feel his fat tip prodding against that mushy spot inside you again.

“She can come shut me up herself if that’s the case,” Choso taunts with a teasing lick of his lips, “S’that what you want? Wanna come put that pretty pussy on my mouth ‘nd shut me the hell up?”

A whine leaves your throat at the thought alone, your eyes focusing on his lips and that stupid smirk plastered across them. “N-No,” You stammer before pressing your hands flat against his chest again and pushing him down off of his elbows and flat on the bed.

He’s caught off guard all over again because then you’re lifting your hips and slamming them back down on him— forcing a moan from both of you. 

Then he’s chuckling breathily, “Fuck, that’ll do it too.” Choso nods, “That’ll shut me up.”

“Yeah?” You huff as you continue with that aggressive bounce up and down on his cock.

Choso tips his head back again and nods once more, “Uhuh, jus’-, ah… jus’ k-keep doin’ that.”

You don’t have to be told twice. It was clear that something about you being on top of him drove him crazier than before. Something about feeling your cunt squeeze every inch of his cock as you lifted yourself, followed by the messy squelch of you plopping back down seconds later had his breath hitching again.

Choso’s no virgin but damn did you make him feel like one. He can hardly think properly as you ride him in earnest, bouncing yourself on his cock so prettily, simply taking what you want from him— hell, all he can think about is you and how well you’re taking him right now.

The heavenly little gasps of his name you keep letting out aren’t helping his situation either. Every little ‘Choso’ or ‘feels s’good’ that pours out of your mouth has his cock dripping against your inner walls again. The creaking of the bed had returned and you both allowed yourself to be as loud as either of you wished. 

Surely there’d be a noise complaint from the neighbors the next morning. Especially as you reach your orgasm and your bouncing comes to a slow. Then you’re leaning down to him and he’s wrapping his arms around your waist as yours go around his neck.

Your breaths are shared and he could tell and feel you make a mess all over his cock. You’re panting and trying to keep moving but you just couldn’t do it yourself, you can’t keep going as your legs start to give out on you.

All that talk from before and now look at you— silently begging him to help you maintain your high. And who was Choso to ever deny you of such a thing?

As such, he’s shifting his legs around and planting his feet flat against the bed before he starts fucking his heavy cock up into you. His sudden movement earned a choked gasp of his name from you and he gapes at how your eyes roll back.

His hands move to your hips and you lean up slowly, your eyes hazily meeting his.

Then, Choso’s whispering to you, “Fuck me back, c’mon,” He encourages.

Your arms are a bit shaky from his thrusts but that doesn’t stop you from placing your hands on the bed and keeping yourself stable as you throw your hips back to meet his.

And god did he start to lose his mind again, thrusting-, no, pounding himself up into you over and over and over again like he was possessed. His jaw hangs open, mirroring yours while you two fuck each other stupidly. Had it become a competition or something? Because it damn sure felt like it.

And hey, you and Choso have always been like that. From the day you met to now, whatever you did with one another always became some kinda competition. Not that you were complaining now though, it was working out in your favor— even though he was winning (in a sense) with the way your body goes limp again and you just fall forward against him.

Then Choso’s whispering in your ear, “That’s all you got?” He chuckles, his hands gripping onto your hips tighter as he moves you himself.

You’re panting and whining against him, feeling the constant and relentless prodding of his thick leaky cockhead into the depths of your cunt. Shit, if he couldn’t think properly earlier, you damn sure couldn’t by this point. All you could process was how fucking full you were of him, how every bruising inch fit into you so perfectly over and over, and that filthy sound of your cum and his mixing to create such a big mess around his cock.

“C-Choso,” You gasp out, “Choso-, fuck..”

He hardly even heard your voice at first, too lost in the syrupy trance your pussy had him in before he’s grunting out a lazy response to you, “Huh?”

Then your breath is stuttering, “S-Slow down-, nngh… please?”

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” Choso groans, “I can’t-, fuuck, I can’t slow down, princess. N-Not yet,” He pants, “Just-, hah, jus’ lemme fuck you full again. Mmgh, please?”

You whimper before turning your head to meet his gaze, “T-Thought you weren’t-, ngh, gonna beg for anything?”

He smiles before dropping his eyes to your lips, “Shut up.” Choso hushes out finally before pressing his lips into yours.

You don’t know how he does it or where the hell he gets his stamina from but he’s just doing all the work for you— hands on your hips pushing and pulling you down to meet his thrusts, his own hips piston his cock into you with not one second to catch a breath, and his lips molding against yours as he swallows up every whine and whimper you let out.

Though, as surprising as his stamina and strength are, even he gets tired or frustrated at some point and just flips you both on your sides. Your leg is hoisted up on his hip and he’s just rutting into you like a damn madman, panting hard against your lips while spewing curse after curse about how good you feel around him.

When Choso fucks, he fucks like he’ll never get the chance to do so again, coaxing orgasm after orgasm after orgasm out of you to the point where you’re seeing stars and can barely get his name past your lips properly. Listening for that sexy little ah, ah, ah that leaves your throat with every thrust— Choso was tempted to break you in half.

Hell, maybe he already had because you’re choking on your moans, tears are welling up in your eyes, and one moment he’s fucking you while you’re on your sides and the next he’s on top of you again, blindly beating his cock deeper inside you. You swore he was in your lungs at that point because every little gasp you took was of his name. 

Your nails were clawing at his back and you couldn’t fucking think. You lost track of how many times you came, all you could see was him and then white, blissful stary white as he hummed out quiet praises and pleadings of you to give him another one.

One more Choso promised, and then his thumb was at your clit again. One more he whispers, and then he’s marking up your neck and lower. Last one he swears, before you miraculously end up on your stomach, taking him ruthlessly from behind as he pushes your face down into the bed.

He was such a fucking liar. Whispering how sorry he was for not stopping yet, even as he kept going. Fuck, he might’ve been addicted. He doesn’t know how many times he came inside you, nor does he care too much because he swears it’s worth it when he pulls his hips back and sees the disgusting slick of pure white coating his cock.

He couldn’t even stop himself for a while, constantly fucking into you faster and then harder. His bed was no longer just creaking but now it was rocking with every thrust. He’s pretty sure he heard something snap but he was too lost in everything that was you to care.

The sight of your ass bouncing back against him made him grunt. He has a hand sneaking underneath you to toy with your clit once more just to watch the way you squirm before you’re coming undone all over again.

Choso groaned at the sight. He’ll never be able to forget how puffy your cunt was, how you twitched when he finally pulled out of you, and the way his cum looked dripping out of your hole.

“Shit,” He whispers, his breathing ragged while he just stared at how badly your legs were shaking, listening to you trying so hard to catch your breath, and gasping softly when your body goes all limp again.

You let out the softest little groan and Choso moved his sights onto the bit of your face he could see. As he did so, he couldn’t help but stare at the rest of you in awe, trying not to smile at the plethora of hickeys and bite marks he managed to leave all over you.

Damn. He really did ruin you.

Even as you lay there completely still, he catches your lashes fluttering before you try to look back at him. You were so beyond fucked out.

Choso swears he’s got little hearts in his eyes as he leans down to you, meeting your gaze up close before kissing you all too softly like he didn’t just fuck you stupid.

Yet, you kiss him back tenderly with what little energy you have left. When he pulls away, he takes in your expression and how tired you looked— appearing as though you were seconds from passing out.

“M’sorry pretty girl,” Choso whispers. The softness in his voice made your heart churn in more ways than one, “I didn’t mean to get carried away like that-“

The way you grin and murmur back to him makes his whole world pause, “S’okay, Cho,” You assure him. Your tone was so light, almost hardly even there. Then there was the way you were looking at him like you loved every second of what just happened and-

Oh god, he almost thinks he’s in l-

You cut whatever thought or feeling that was off with another kiss and that seems to bring him back to reality. Choso’s lashes bat in slight surprise before he settles his gaze on yours.

Followed by that is you letting out a huff and plopping your head back down against the bed. The two of you are still for a moment and Choso even ends up resting on top of you for a while. You both almost fall asleep like that until Choso gets up and stretches.

You had no idea what time it was or how long you and him had been at it but you were much too fucked out to care. Sleep was steady to overcome your senses and you faintly recall Choso talking to you about cleaning up but, you’re pretty sure you fell asleep at some point.

Which left Choso alone to care for you and the mess of his bedroom. Not that he minded.

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[yenqa]

firsts

synopsis — sakusa and you have never had a conversation, and honestly you’re terrified of the man. but one conversation turns out to be many more of your firsts with sakusa.

warnings — reader is scared of men LMFAO, not really any

pairing — sakusa x implied fem!reader

wordcount — 710

a/n — happy birthday to himm! also my first hq post in a while OOPS also not proofread sorry!

You’ve never really talked to Sakusa.

You had been the manager of the volleyball team since your first year–and you had known him since then, but for some reason, you haven’t talked to him unless it’s volleyball related.

In fact–you don’t think you’ve ever had a conversation with him. But there's a first for everything, right?

Itachiyama has made it to nationals (not like it’s a surprise), and everyone has just arrived. The room continues to fill with people you don’t know, so you decide it’s best to stick with your team so you don’t get lost.

Well apparently that was a horrible idea to everyone else. Because you’ve lost everyone but Sakusa. 

And you’re terrified. Surrounded in a room full of men you don’t know sounded like your worst nightmare, and you were living it currently.

Frantically scanning the room for anyone that’s not Sakusa, you somehow can’t spot any of the familiar bright yellow and green jackets your team is wearing.

Everyone knows that Sakusa doesn’t like to be bothered. But when you make eye contact with him, you change your expression to a way where he understands you’re pleading for help.

And he nods once.

Your mouth breaks out into a smile, and you shimmy your way to the crowd. Letting out a sigh of relief–you lean on the wall for support, muttering a small thank you to Sakusa. 

You don’t expect him to say anything back, but you can hear his muffled voice say, “You okay?”

Tilting your head slightly up to make eye contact with him, you smile as you say, “Yeah–I’m fine. Are you nervous?”

You’re not sure why you ask the question, he probably doesn’t want to be bothered. I mean–you were still kind of shocked that he let you even be near him.

“Not really. Are you?”

You’re even more shocked when he continues the conversation. You’d expect he’d be the most rude person if he didn’t want to talk. “I-uhm I am a little bit. But we’re exempt from playing today right?”

Yeah–this definitely is the first and last conversation you’ll ever have with him.

He nods.

Then it’s silent.

Surprisingly, the silence isn't the most awkward thing you’ve experienced. It feels as if you’re just two people co-existing.

You watch as everyone excitedly hugs each other or glares at their next opponent. One person even tries to rile up the other, eliciting a small chuckle from you.

From the corner of your eye you can tell he’s curious, but he hasn’t said anything yet. This time, you take initiative to point at the players, also describing the jacket colors.

And you swear you can hear him laugh.

Not a full–hearty laugh obviously, but a small chuckle. A quiet one that you don’t even notice. But it’s definitely the first time you’ve heard him do anything resembling a laugh.

“You laughed.” You blurt out, before you even realize. 

He furrows his brows, “I did.”

Your eyes widen, “Sorry–oh my gosh, it’s just the first time I’ve heard your laugh before, Sakusa-san. I swear I didn’t mean it like that–you just have a nice laugh–”

And now he’s actually laughing–like not even hard to hear.

He’s laughing, he’s hunched over, shaking and clutching his stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more mortified in your life.

“It wasn’t that funny was it?” You ask, a frown on your face.

Sakusa catches his breath, “Funnier than any of the jokes Komori tries to make.”

“There wasn’t even a joke! And I happen to like the jokes he makes!”

“Only if you’re sick in the head.”

You scoff at his remark, “Wow, Sakusa-san, you’re very hard to please.”

“Kiyoomi.”

“Another complaint?” You tease, trying to play dumb at what he’s trying to imply. 

“Call me Kiyoomi.”

You can feel heat rush to your cheeks, you tuck your hair back behind your ear and mutter, “Okay, Kiyoomi.”

And even though he’s wearing a white mask, you swear you can see his eyes crinkle and you can assume the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. 

You’ve had many firsts with Sakusa today. This is the first time you’ve seen him smile–just maybe next time he’ll do it while his face is fully shown.

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

[lovemomhatepolice]

drew starkey nswf alphabet (part 2)

navigation taglist requests

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) There is no chance that it will touch you after alcohol. That is, when only you are after alcohol. Even though you are in a relationship and even though you trust each other implicitly, THERE IS NO SUCH OPTION. Even if you look at him with your pleading eyes, even dripping, no. Well, unless you are both slightly tipsy and then you land in each other's arms, even more willingly than usual (which is all too strange)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Heck, you guys are even fighting over it. There's no way you're going to get around it without plowing both ways. Drew loves, LOVES to lie between your thighs - oh and you love how he is there, because your man is very talented. But you also take his breath away as you climb into his lap and caress him with your mouth. Let's hope it never ends, right?

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Let's be honest - Drew is a man of a million talents. You want him to fuck you hard, with your face pressed into a pillow, begging for it to stop, even though you don't really want it to - he will. If you're in a romantic mood and want to seal it with sex, he'll be sensual and calm. Whatever you desire

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) If you do not have the opportunity to have sex longer, quickies also are ok. But as I mentioned, Drew doesn't like to skip the “elements” of your intercourse, so quickies are not to his liking. But sometimes you both want it, and what can you do?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) This man is turning 31!!! (Funnily enough - he turns it tomorrow) We all seem to know very well how well he takes care of his sister-in-law. So it's no wonder he doesn't mind if you don't use protection or are not on the pill. Oh, he would love to have children with you, even if you are quite a bit younger. If you were ready, he could fuck you all night long just to put that baby inside you

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) It depends on how aroused he is. Usually you can easily do two-three rounds if you are not tired. Drew doesn't like to finish after one round, who would he be if he didn't fondle his woman to her limits?

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) He has. Not a lot, but I think she keeps a vibrator at her house to sometimes support her actions and improve your sex. He's not some big fan, but he likes to experiment

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) He doesn't do it all that often - in fact, mostly when you're heavily aroused against him, and he (due to the fact that he's quite elderly) takes a little advantage of it. He prolongs with doing you good with his mouth, moves slowly inside you, oh, but how he returns the favor afterwards

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Oh, he is loud! Drew doesn't suppress his moans, loud breaths or saying how wonderful you are to him, how beautiful your body is and how much he loves you. He is sonorous and I think that is his advantage. Imagine that damn sexy voice of his worshiping you...

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Maybe it's because he's an actor - and such a perversion came out of his work, or maybe he just saw such a thing once in a porn. Drew had the thought, and more than once, of having sex with you as one of his film characters. I don't know, he wanted to get into Rafe's or Trevor's shoes and fuck you like they could (meaning he could)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Drew has a lot to show off. He's all big, so it's also no surprise that his boxers are constantly bulging. But I guess that doesn't bother anyone, right? Especially in your bed, as you finally feel as full as you should

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) There are times when he can behave himself and tries not to pay so much attention to how sexy his girlfriend is, but this is rare. Even at the family home, he tries to take you aside, at least for a moment to go to the restroom to have a hot kissing session, and then go back to the family as if nothing ever happened. Oh, he can't take his hands off you and it takes so little for him to be at your every beck and call

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) You talk to each other for a long time before you fall asleep, but for Drew, first of all, it is important that you fall asleep first, only then will he feel properly to fall asleep - with the knowledge that his whole world is safe in his arms

A/N: part one if anyone missed it!! i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open, and I am very close to 600 followers! if you just like my work - take a look at the masterlist, give a heart, pass, and maybe even follow! it really means a lot to me and helps me grow by reaching more people :) please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[yandere-sins]

Monstober - Day 2: Werewolf/Werecat

I had a request for the continuation of my last werewolf!boyfriend story for at least a year now... time to make it nasty, ehehe >:3 I dedicate this to all my monster readers, and those that really enjoy knotting. >:3

First Part here!

Prompt: Werewolf/Werecat | Full Moon // Claws // Beastly Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Fem!Reader, Dub-Con, Praising, Degradation, Knotting, Knotfucking, Nicknames, Cunnilingus, Orgasming from pain, Use of pheromones to make darling horny, Mentioning of sexual manipulation, Monsterfuckery (more animal than human in this case), Talking about pregnancy), Violence (Breaking a door, Biting, Blood Mention, Mention of claws), Animal behavior, Monster descriptions, Very long post

"I know... Maybe... But the smell... No, no, no... Ah, I want to..."

Scraps of a conversation—one not held with you—reached your drowsy mind, slowly pulling you out of your dreams, which were almost as grim as reality. Ever since you discovered your boyfriend's true nature on that full-moon-night weeks ago, your depression had grown more and more. You fought at first, reasoned, pleaded to what was left of your sweet boyfriend. But the animal had taken roots too deep for you to tear them out.

And now, there was not much to do other than sleep.

The cottage had never felt like home, but it was suffocating now. When he wasn't around, you were locked up. And when he was home, he was overbearing, doting, and downright creepy. You caught him sniffing the bathroom door more than once just because you hid inside the room for a while. He explained that he just wanted to ensure you were okay, but you couldn't be so sure about it.

Hearing him pace back and forth behind the bedroom door wasn't as alarming anymore as it should have been. It didn't alert you right away, since he always seemed to be around, even when he wasn't. But this night was special, and between depression naps and being force-fed canned ravioli, this time, you did strain your ears after shaking off the initial drowsiness.

"Ah, awake, good, good... No! No, not good, not good! No..."

You sighed, listening to his rambles turning into a soft whine, the longing scratching of his nails against the bedroom door. From your position on the bed you spied the key still dangling from the lock, followed by countless steel locks snapped into place next to the frame. He had advised you to do it, and spending a night alone in your room was more of a pleasure than you cared to admit.

It was another full-moon night.

The first one since you found out, to be exact. And it hadn't been you who raised concerns at realizing it, your ex still remembering the blood bath he left after last time. It hadn't been intentional, but after throwing you across the parking lot, scratching you with his claws while carrying you, and biting your ankle when you didn't want to stop fighting, he had been devastated, wishing to avoid the bloodshed at all costs.

Of course, you wanted to avoid getting hurt again, too, even if your feelings and desires had become relatively meaningless over time. You still wanted to fight, but hiding was your second best option, and knowing he cared just a little about your well-being gave you some hope that not all was lost. One day, you'd escape him, but maybe not on this particular night. All you had to do for now was wait it out, keep quiet, don't alert the beast of your presence.

"Hrngh, mate... need to... mhm, no. Not like this..."

If only he wasn't so damn annoying.

"Just shut up!" you yelled, unable to fall asleep even after trying your hardest. It was bad enough to be in this situation, you didn't need a velcro werewolf to add to your misery and deny you the one thing you liked doing—sleeping in peace.

A soft whine escaped your ex as he halted in his tracks, and you sighed, feeling stupid that you blew your cover completely. Now that he knew you were definitely awake, he'd probably create an even bigger ruckus, especially when you refused to let him in. You heard his body rubbing against the wood, followed by the sound of his sniffing, and you cursed the door for being so poorly soundproofed. Ever since you found out what he was, he didn't hold back the strange mannerism his other form brought with. And you wanted nothing more than to escape the weirdness of this inhuman beast.

He groaned on the other side of the door, and you groaned inwardly as you realized even his breathing had gotten annoying.

"What are you even doing?" you asked him, not needing to yell for him to hear.

"N-Nothing..." he stuttered, sounding dejected and pathetic as he mumbled it into the doorframe. He had always been a lousy liar, but saying this while behaving like a mad dog was almost insulting. Some more hums and sighs reached you ever so often, the creepiness of it all rattling you every time.

"Can you go away?" you asked, annoyed. You wouldn't be able to go back to sleep like this, feeling constantly threatened and grossed out by his presence like this. But your ex merely slumped against the door, letting out a mix of a groan and a growl. It was as if he was on drugs—and not the good kind.

Grabbing your pillow, you wrapped it around your ears, hoping to eradicate the sounds coming from the door. But like so many times before, your hopes were literally smashed as you heard the frightening sound of violently cracking wood.

Immediately, you sat up, staring wide-eyed at the door. It was a small frame of pliable wood, but for some reason, you had felt safe with it separating you from the monster outside. As if it, with all the locks he installed and let you manage, could keep him out. But as you watched the door bend, his body slamming into it from the other side, you realized it had never been enough, not nearly.

"S-Stop!" you called out, and an inhuman growl escaped from behind the splintering wood.

"No stop," the beast growled back, the sounds of claws raking over the wood sent goosebumps down your spine. "My mate..." he sighed in that awful, inhuman voice, and you gulped as you listened to the sniffs. "I know where you are, Mate. So desperate, so in need."

You gasped as his shoulder finally broke through the door, pulling out of the hole it punched through, only to be replaced by his face. You sat completely still as his eyes roamed, taking only milliseconds to find and fixate on you. He had already shifted most of his features, hair growing where it wasn't supposed to, eyes turning from soft green to an intense emerald, his pupils small and digging into you.

Both of you stared at each other for what felt like hours, but you were surprised when he groaned once again, sounding desperate as he withdrew. Before you could say anything, his arm—already fully shifted, with claws for nails and the greyish-brown fur of an animal coating his skin—burst through, getting caught on the splintering wood, yet not caring as it pawed at the locks. Desperate to get it. To get to you.

"Mate," he whined, stopping in his tracks. "Let me in, yes? Let me make you feel good."

You shook your head, unable to voice your thoughts. As if you'd let that thing inside and do harm to you. No matter what it said, that wasn't going to happen.

Another growl, the door shaking while he gripped the first lock, yanking at it. After losing his grip once, he tried again, and before your very eyes, the first lock crumbled in his fist. He wouldn't be stopped by something puny like this, whether you helped him or not. You carefully clambered out of bed, not feeling safe cowering anymore. Desperate, you fiddled with the lock on the window, hoping it would be just as easily removable as your ex made it seem.

Crunch, gone was another lock on the door, the wood bending and creaking further as a body much larger and heavier leaned against it.

Just your lock didn't budge, even as you yanked and begged it to give way. "Come on," you whispered, and the beast growled from behind you, only encouraged by your words to break another one of the door locks.

But suddenly, in the middle of your frenzy to escape before the werewolf could get to you, you heard a whine louder than any before. The arm retracted, and you listened to the chaos unfold outside as the body of your ex slammed into the furniture in the hallway, scraping along the walls.

"No! No, stop! She's scared, she doesn't want this!" This was clearly your boyfriend's voice, begging with something—most likely himself—to stop. Your heart swelled with thankfulness, knowing he was the only one able to subdue the beast. But it was strong, as it had showcased so many times now.

"Yes, she wants," the beast growled. "She's fertile, she's ready. We waited so long to be one. Be one with our mate. Now we have her, and she needs us!"

"But she's not a werewolf! She's not ready for... for this!"

There was so much disgust and hate in his last words, and although you could imagine he meant this situation, you weren't sure if that was truly what he was implying. Maybe there was something more, something even worse, awaiting you that only your ex knew about.

Much to your own shame, your thoughts drifted temporarily, and you were unable to shift them back to focus. Fertile, ready, being one. It suddenly clicked what this monster wanted, and heat flooded your body, causing your core to clench. This had never been about hurting or scaring you.

The monster was, quite literally, trying to mate with you.

A gravelly groan escaped the beast, and you shuddered, feeling caught as the sound raked through your body unwillingly.

"There, she's ready. Waiting for us. Need us," it growled before softly whining, the sound of your boyfriend's voice not reemerging this time.

"I'm ready, too, need to see that pretty cunt, lick up that sweet scent."

Never once since finding out about your ex's secret had you thought about sex with your boyfriend. Depression killed most of your libido, and his touches disgusted you rather than excited. But he, on the other hand, or perhaps that beast controlling him, apparently had.

Looking out of the window, you had a full view of the bright full moon, hanging like an executioner's axe above your head. Even if you could escape this room, you knew you couldn't outrun the monster. Not with his enhanced senses and abilities. You could try to fight him, but your chances of success were slim with his superior strength and the possibility of you freezing up when you were face to face with the creature.

What should you do then? Simply... give up?

You shuddered, another cracking reminding you the monster was again working on opening the door. On getting to you. He wouldn't stop. He didn't when you screamed and begged, didn't when you were obviously afraid. There was no reasoning with an animal, and tears welled up in your eyes.

"Mhm, sad... Mate sad," your ex whined through the gap in the door, his voice mixing into the monster's way of talking. As if to lure you, like the big bad wolf had with little red riding hood. "Soon. I'll be there soon."

You knew it would be.

Surprised, you found yourself in front of the door, watching as the gnarly arm yanked at the second to last lock, impatiently trying to tear it off. There wasn't much you could possibly do to save yourself, but it was all too much to bear for your psyche. Tears fell freely as you reached up, not even realizing you had come so close to the beast, and brushed your hand over his fur. He stilled, letting go of the lock as he reached up instead.

Your breath hitched as you thought he would wrap his paw around your throat, but instead, his palm cupped your face, clawed thumb wiping away the tears. "Open the door," he rumbled softly, commanding it despite the gentle instruction. "Let me come in, mate. Let me comfort you."

His hand fell from your face, brushing down your body. There was something so strangely sensual in this huge paw of a hand gently caressing your body, even if the claws could slit you open at any given moment. You were going crazy, but you didn't move, didn't shove him away as you should have. He drove over the curve of your breast, his knuckles getting caught on your nipple, flicking it one after the other before he moved on to the side of your hip. Then the hand slit around the small of your back, pushing you closer to the door before settling above your ass.

Its presence was like a threat, and you reached up with shaking hands, slowly fiddling with the key to the door before unlocking it. Two more to go.

"Good," it growled. "I can smell your arousal. I'll see to it soon, pretty mate. Open it. Open the door."

Click. Did you want it to? Did you perhaps want that werewolf to get to you, ravage you like the beast it was? Had you gone insane after a month of isolation and depression? Your breath hitched as you reached for the last lock, the steady growling turning into more of a purr as his hand spread over your asscheek, slowly rubbing it, fingers dipping down too low for comfort with his elongated tips. Yet, when he pulled them from between your legs, you followed his touch, chasing the tingles he left in his wake.

Yes. You had gone insane. Fuck, you must have been mad, but your hands acted on their own as they unlocked the last barricade between you two.

"I-I'm opening it now," you announced, and the monster hummed appreciatively.

"Yes... Yes, you open it now, sweet thing. Let me in."

Your breathing ragged, the last lock clicked open much too easily, and you stepped backward as the wood creaked open. The monster's arm retracted after pushing down the handle from the inside, the splintered wood cracking out of the way as the creature's massive body broke through the frame.

There was more growling as it got stuck in the small opening, his body way too massive to fit, but it was too eager to wait. The werewolf jammed into it, shoulder and legs getting caught as he couldn't decide what should go first.

You gasped, noticing he hadn't even shifted fully yet, with much of your ex-boyfriend's features remaining as you caught his gaze, looking at you with desperation and sorrow.

"S-Sorry," he stuttered, his voice the growl of a beast, yet you knew it was your boyfriend talking to you. Telling you he couldn't stop it—no, he couldn't stop himself. You needed to stop differentiating the two when they were one and the same. And you were what they wanted, they desired, even if his rational part tried to protect you from the one that ran purely on instinct. You were prey. Prey that the werewolf wanted to fuck and then devour.

For some reason, that revelation made your heart race faster, and your legs clenched tighter together, a shuddering breath escaping you.

"Pretty mate," he sighed. "Pretty, pretty. So needy, so ready."

"W-What do you mean?" you asked him, and his grimace twisted into a grin.

"I can smell it. You are ripe and fertile. You're gonna take my seed and you will enjoy it, begging to have my cubs."

A gasp escaped you as you were slowly backed into the wall to the side of the bed. It was moments like these that made you regret not caring enough before. Not stealing a knife from the kitchen or asking for silver to protect you. Fuck, how could you have been so stupid as to open the door?! How could you do this to yourself?!

Your core clenched, and the shameful realization finally dawned on you. It had been some time since your period, and that meant... you were ovulating. Your libido may have been off, but nature didn't miss. Especially not if your boyfriend had some weird, werewolf pheromones you didn't notice before. It was your only explanation for wanting this thing anywhere close to you. You two used to have a very active sex life, but you had always used protection, and he had never pressed you to do what you didn't want. Maybe that made you too easily persuaded now, in this situation. A false sense of trust

"Don't be scared," the creature purred, reaching out his fully shifted arm towards you. "I'll take good care of you. I'll start right now."

With that and the terrifying sound of wood breaking, that massive monster plummeted to his knees, more hair sprouting as the full transformation took place. You watched in horror and awe as his snout elongated, teeth sharpening, and ears protruding from the top of his head. You wanted to throw up, but you had no time as the snout leaned forward, landing right between your legs.

The deep inhale could be felt through all the layers of clothes on you, and you felt your own wetness betraying you as it seeped into your panties. The monster was way too huge, even as he knelt, his body bending in what must have been painful for him just so he could kneel before you and sniff your privates mercilessly, driven by the need to satisfy his and your cravings.

Pushing his snout upwards, an electric shock went through you as it flicked your clit, maw splitting to allow his tongue to lap out. It was so damn long, able to easily slip between your asscheeks from his front-facing position. And it moved like a separate entity, a snake able to buckle and twist, eager to taste all you were offering.

Claws hooked beneath the waistband of your pajama, and you squeaked as he rapidly pulled them down to your ankles. His tongue moved out of the way only to let the fabric pass, immediately slinging back between your legs, licking up all the excess wet coating the inside of your thighs. You let out an involuntary moan as the tip of his tongue poked at your entrance through the fabric, and the monster chuckled, his tongue vibrating along to the sound.

It was almost too much. Your body bent forward, the monster's shoulders perfectly in reach to grab onto, and you leaned into his snout. He took it as a sign of your willingness, arms reaching out to support you by the hips, and you whined as the thick muscle pressed into you teasingly. You'd never be able to take it fully, and the fear gave you another pang to your core, making you imagine what it would be like inside you, winding and twisting around.

You felt so embarrassed that you were thinking about these things, not understanding why your body would crave them. But you couldn't stop. Couldn't stop thinking of the ways it could lap at your folds, play your clit, or dig deeper than anything ever had before. Maybe with a tongue like this, your orgasm wouldn't be an every-once-in-a-while thing but a constant, double, triple pleasure that only you got to experience. You were fucking going insane, and the shame almost turned you on more.

"So good," the monster praised, and the deep sound shuddered through your body. You raised onto your tiptoes, realizing you were so close to the edge of depravity. But that was when he sniffed your soaked-through panties, inhaled with a long, deep breath before suddenly closing his maw, leaving you breathless and violently tingling.

"You're ready," the creature announced and you whined as he pulled the last bit of pressure—his nose—from your clit, leaving you with nothing. You didn't know you could be this needy, but your fingers curled into his fur, silently willing him back to give you the earth-shaking orgasm he had built up to.

"You need to be filled up, sweet thing. Need my seed to swell your belly until it bursts and give you what you desire, little mate."

His hold on your hips grew uncomfortably tight, but before you knew it, you were lifted off the ground. A breathless gasp escaped you as you were carried over to the bed, your head hitting your pillow with a soft "Uff!" escaping you. But when you opened your eyes, the werewolf was right there, his legs spread on either side of the bed, one arm gripping the iron headboard that creaked underneath the pressure of his grip.

It felt incredibly threatening to have him hover above you like this. Still, at the same time, you couldn't help but flush with heat as he looked down at you, that massive monster looking at you as if it was either lovestruck or famished, satisfied some inner demons of yours. That was, until your eyes fell below his waistline, seeing the red, angry erection that awaited you there, jutting out of the fur and merrily spilling precum as if it was lube.

With a groan, your ex reached down, gripping his massive cock awkwardly in his clawed hand. More cum gushed from it, and his hips pounded forward into the hold. There was no way you could take that, its girth unimaginable inside your small, human pussy.

Some of the hot spill touched your bare legs, your pants discarded on the floor where you had stood, and you jolted from the heat. It spread like wildfire, the thought of being filled with it almost sending you over the edge right then and there. The idea of your womb filled up with this hot, heavy seed was so enticing to you, although you didn't realize it had been a kink of yours. Something felt so off about your reactions, yet you couldn't determine what. You couldn't turn your eyes away from his cock, not even as his hand slid back, fingers spreading further to envelop the bulbous growth at the base. You swallowed thickly as you watched him squeeze and massage it, the discomfort clear in his movements, yet his tip just wouldn't stop spilling.

"Open your legs," he growled, and you shuddered as hesitation and willingness fought inside of you. It seemed the monster didn't have the same concerns as you had, willing to tear you open just to get his dick wet. And a part of you wanted to be the one wetting this dick, but this time, rationality won.

"N-No, it won't fit!" you squeaked, slamming your legs shut as hard as you could and moving backward until your shoulders hit the iron frame.

"It will," the werewolf snarled confidently. "You are more than ready, little mate."

"No! No, you will hurt me! I can't take it--"

The deep growl that clattered his teeth shut you up fast, and you turned your head away as he lowered his towards yours. His snout ran from your temple to the side of your throat, brushing away your shirt to expose more of the soft area between your shoulder and neck. When he licked over the spot, you felt a jolt of pleasure rake through you, a weird kind of connection developing with this monster.

"You are my mate. I long prepared you for this—longer than you realize. Spread you wide, marked you, let you smell my pheromones. You were always going to be mine, even when you didn't know it. You were ready before you found out about this, but tonight, you'll finally take your place as my mate. Mine."

Pushing his hips down, they connected with yours, and you temporarily forgot to clench your thighs, allowing the monster to rub his cock against your cunt. It was hot, wet, and ready, and with your soft whine, you signaled that you were, too.

With his free hand, he reached down, grabbing your left leg before pulling it to the side. With another sniff in the air, the monster let out a satisfied rumble before stretching out his pointer, slipping the claw under the fabric of your panty.

You gasped as the fabric tore at the smallest of tugs, easily giving way to your bare pussy, and you felt almost the same sense of shame as you had at your first time with your boyfriend. Shy, virginal. Perhaps because, to this werewolf, with his heightened senses, you were much more exposed than normally. He saw, smelled, and tasted everything so much more and did so with the greatest of pleasures.

"Mhm, tight," he commented as he looked down.

"Too tight," you whined, and he snorted.

"Perfect."

Pushing your leg back, he brought his own forward to secure it in place, and letting go of the headboard, he swept your other leg up to rest it above his. You hadn't even noticed the swift lifting of your hips he did, only feeling the softness of your blanket underneath them when he had already elevated you. He was surprisingly considered for a beast, but that wasn't what you should have been thinking about.

"Hold here," he instructed, guiding your hands over your head and to the iron rods that made up the headboard. With shivering hands, you grasped them and looked up to meet his gaze, his eyes not wavering from yours as he reached down to position himself.

"Good girl," he chuckled, and you couldn't help more heat spreading to your cheeks as you looked away first.

Cursing the wave of excitement, only measured against the fear of being penetrated by something so big, you whined softly as you felt his tip press against your entrance, your pussy gaping after this promise of finally getting the orgasm you had been denied before.

His snout leaned down, brushing against the side of your face reassuringly, and you heard that eery purr rumble in his chest again. With his own hands gripping the top of the headboard, you began to realize what you had allowed. You shifted on top of his lap, pulling yourself further away, but his hips followed, caging you between his body and the headboard.

"No, no wait!" you whimpered, panic spreading through you as your body prepared with all the adrenaline it could muster.

"No more waiting, little mate," he replied and his hips snapped forward.

A soundless scream ripped from your throat, your spine arching as the whole shaft of his cock invaded you, split you wide open, and tore your entrance as the bulb tried to follow into your depths.

"It's too big!" you complained, but your words were all but one big moan that only encouraged him more. There were no words to describe the feeling, a mixture of pain that turned into pleasure, that burned with even more pain before finally pressing all the right spots. And you were so full.

You felt your toes curl as you came, overwhelmed to the point of tears. Tears that were licked up by an eager tongue, wet and hot as it found your lips, pulling them apart to invade your mouth as well in an abhorrent kiss to fur-covered lips. His tongue was choking you, fucking your throat as his cock made little juts inside you, guiding you through your orgasm.

It didn't take him long to find a rhythm, his cock rutting into you madly by the time your high was broken, only mind-shattering sensitivity remaining. The headboard creaked and shook as he used it to drive himself forward and deeper into you. Soon, your wetness and his precum pooled beneath your cunt, and when he dragged his cock back, preparing for an especially deep push, the knot at the base slipped inside with it.

This time, you did scream, loud enough to make him jolt, his cock kissing even deeper as your bodies collided. The werewolf growled, pulling his knot free, and your shriek turned into a loud moan, your eyes rolling back. And so he did it again, fucking the mass into you again and again. You couldn't scream every time it spread you open with blunt force, but every time it did, you felt like losing your conscience.

Soon, he didn't even pull it out fully anymore, only moving inside of you. The knot grew, and you squirmed, uncomfortable with the mass spreading inside you. "No!" you whined, but it wasn't convincing when it sounded like a plead for more. You completely lost control as his cock bulged inside you, the beast growling as a hot spurt of cum splashed your inner walls.

And as if the floodgates opened, more spurts followed, spilling all inside you with no chance of escaping. You wished it didn't give you that ugly, fulfilling feeling of yet another orgasm, but you weren't spared. The werewolf groaned as you clenched around him, and you shook violently while more and more cum filled your womb. Just like he promised, he filled you up to the brim, expanding your insides as if he had already gotten you pregnant. You felt both nauseated from the feeling of fluids swapping around inside of you as well as so damn satisfied by feeling full.

Growls and howls escaped him, maw lowering back to settle between your shoulder and neck. You didn't notice him licking the spot over and over while you were still orgasming, as if this was the first time you had ever reached such a high. Groaning, you let your head fall back, arching your body against his, not realizing this had been your biggest mistake.

Pain worse than anything you had ever felt before shot through you, and your scream died down quickly as blood gushed from your shoulder, his teeth burying deeper as you tried to rip yourself away from the monster. He was groaning, lapping at the wounds his maw caused and his cock jerked inside you, causing all the fluids to sway.

You reached around his neck, driving your nails through his fur and into the taut skin on his back. You whimpered and pushed your body into his pleadingly, willing him to stop. It hurt so much, and yet you felt almost back at the edge of your orgasm, your hips unwillingly rutting against his, the knot moving back and forth around your entrance.

Only when you came again did the werewolf stop his bite, howling at the sight of you shuddering violently beneath him. And finally, he was satisfied, your blood dripping from his maw as he pumped his cock into you again a handful of times, making sure you were plugged up well.

"Mine," he rasped. "All mine. My mate, my bitch."

His hand fell to the swollen part of your stomach, and you groaned as he applied some pressure.

"And soon," he hummed, satisfied as you felt another pump of cum fill you up. "You'll bear my pups like a good mate. And I will fill you up again for more like you were always meant to be."

You barely registered the words, but the tears falling from your eyes were proof that you understood. Understood what you had allowed to happen, understood that you were indeed what he claimed you to be. His bitch, his little breeding pet. His.

"Good," he chuckled, and you let out a sob, realizing he could feel your giving up, the despair overwhelming you. But to him, it was only one thing: submission. He didn't need you to voice it to win a battle you couldn't have fought if you wanted to. And you were too helpless to make him think otherwise, too exhausted to argue, too full to deny what you were.

Tugging his knot back, you realized he was slowly able to pull it out, and you whined, feeling the first spurts of seed run down your legs. But he pushed it back the second he noticed it, humming as he seemed to enjoy your warmth.

"You're all mine now, you belong to me," he growled, victorious. But then a whine broke through, and you watched as the werewolf hunched over, one hand gripping his head. Concerned, you didn't know what to do, but when you tried to move, you felt his knot inside, and the pleasure that shot through you made you flush with heat and moan.

"God..." you heard him whine, and you looked up, not in the eyes of a beast, but those of your ex. You saw your own reflection in them, undone, bloody, and sexually satisfied beyond recognition. He whined again softly, but you didn't believe his words when he sobbed them quietly. Not with his knot pulsing inside you still, leaking seed everywhere.

"I'm so, so sorry..."

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

His Lucky Charm

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: smut, cheating

After a whole day of running errands around town, you finally had an evening to yourself. You've decided that this will be a relaxing Friday night where you'll do nothing but take a bath, wash your hair and read a book in bed to recharge your batteries.

You even told your boyfriend Miles that you needed an evening to yourself and that you would make it up to him tomorrow for skipping dinner tonight.

After a long and relaxing much-needed bath, you put on your short pajama set and started combing your wet hair. Your attention was distracted by your phone vibrating on the washing machine. You took a look at the screen only to see Charles' messages popping up.

Are you home?

I need to see you

You didn't even get to answer the message when you heard a knock on your door. You paused for a moment before heading for the door. As you walked, you looked at the time at your phone, which was already showing 11 p.m. and you knew that you definitely weren't expecting anyone else, well, except Charles apparently.

You looked through the peephole and there he was looking straight at you as if he knew you were looking.

"Charles?" You said opening the door. He was standing there with his elbows resting on the door frame and leaning inward. "What are you doing here?"

You couldn't help but get worried about him. You texted him right after the Silverstone fiasco, but he never responded. You knew he was going through it so you decided to give him some time planning to check on him when he was ready to talk about it. But he got ahead of you and came to you instead.

Charles and you have been best friends for a long time now. Best friends who were always there for each other, who always ran to each other when things got tough and, well, best friends who had sex now and then.

There was always something more than just friendship between you. Immense sexual attraction and tension that you happily enjoyed from time to time. Even when you were in a relationship with other people, it was normal and natural for you two to hook up on a weekend off. Even though it was wrong, you didn't even count it as "cheating" because it was the two of you.

But since you found a new boyfriend, Miles, things have changed a bit between the two of you. Since you've been with Miles, not once has Charles ended up in your bed. He noticed that you stopped giving him attention that he was used to so he started behaving differently towards you. He didn't like that he couldn't have you like before. He also didn't like the fact that you stopped coming to the races to support him. And what he hated most of all was that you really seemed to like that Miles guy.

"I needed to see you. Can I come in?" He pleaded with his green eyes piercing right into your soul.

"You know, you should announce yourself before you come, especially at such a late hour. Miles could've been here." You said stepping aside for him to come in.

"I texted you, didn't I?"

"Umm, yeah 30 seconds before you knocked at my door?" You rolled your eyes following him into the living room. He said nothing but threw himself onto your couch and sighed. He didn't even need to say anything to let you know he wasn't feeling himself and you felt bad for him so you asked "Do you want to talk about it? I texted you right after the race, but you never responded. I figured you needed some time for yourself."

"There's not much to talk about. Every fucking weekend for me is the weekend to forget, I'm getting sick and tired of it." He said running his fingers through his hair.

"I know the last few races weren't the result you were hoping for, but that doesn't make you a bad driver. Don't be too hard on yourself, please" You tried to comfort him placing your hand over his knee and squeezing it.

You hated to see him like this and you worried for him knowing that he had a tendency to blame himself for everything that went wrong. Every time when he’s had a bad race you were the one he came to and you managed to calm him down. But since you've been with Miles, Charles has had a lot more bad weekends, and this is the first time he's come to you for comfort.

"No, it's been too many races now. There is always something else at stake, there is a new problem every time, I don't know..I just..I can't-" His voice cracked and you didn't hesitate for a second to sit next to him and pull him into a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Charles" You rubbed his back as he kept his face buried into the crook of your neck tightening his grip around you.

"I'm so tired, y/n" He whispered letting out a deep breath.

"I know you are, but you need to keep pushing forwards. There's just simply no other choice. Giving up is not an option." You put your hand over his cheek to make him look at you. "You get up every day and try again. All the effort and pain will pay off one day, I promise. You know you're one of the best at what you do. The best for me if that means anything to you." You gently caressed his cheek with your thumb and he smiled at your last sentence taking your hand in his and bringing it over to his mouth to kiss it.

"You know what I noticed?"

"What?"

"The last time I won a race, you were there. Ever since you stopped coming my performance has dropped" He said now putting his hand on your cheek and slowly pulling your face closer to his. "Makes me think you were my lucky charm" Your heart trembled as he closed the space between your lips pressing them together.

Even though you kissed back and as much as you were glad to hear him say that, you broke the kiss pulling back and slightly pushing him away from you. "Charles..we can't..I can't"

"Y/n, please..." He took your hand pulling you back to him again. "I need you to fix me"

You got nervous because you knew where this was going so you got up and headed towards the kitchen which was connected to the living room.

You felt like you had to run because you knew Charles was your weakness which you could easily give in to, and you didn't want to do to Miles what you did to other guys with Charles. Miles was good to you and genuinely cared about you and for the first time in your life you felt guilty.

But there was no point in you running away from him because seconds later Charles was behind you with his hands on your waist pressing his chest against your back.

"I miss you, chérie" He said quietly leaning down and pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. "I need you to make everything better again" He continued moving your still wet hair to the side so he can have access to your neck. Once his lips found your neck, you threw your head back against his chest.

"Charles, we can't do this anymore.." You struggled to resist.

"Why not? It's not like we haven't done it before."

"I-it's different this time. I-I really like him." You almost felt guilty saying it in front of him, but that did nothing to stop him.

"C'mon, it's us. I need you so bad, y/n. Nobody does it like we do." He said nibbling the skin on your neck while his hands slowly slid under your t-shirt. You moaned as he grabbed your breasts running his fingertips over your nipples and grinded his already hard crotch against your ass.

You surprised yourself once again by seeing how easily he could have you whenever he wanted. You weren't proud of that, especially not now when you thought you didn't want the same thing he did. But that's just what you thought at least.

So when he whispered into your ear “C’mon, baby, make me cum” you were quick to turn around and vigorously pull his head down to kiss him.

"And what are you going to do for me, Charles? Hm?" Your fingers worked fast unbottoning his pants, pulling them down and letting them fall to the ground.

"Gonna make you cum so hard you're gonna forget all about that Miles guy."

Niether of you needed any kind on warming up. You were always so ready for each other. Your slit was dripping by his words only and his tip teasing your entrance was already covered in precum.

He pushed himself inside you with ease both of you letting out deep groans in desperation to feel more. As soon as he slid in and felt your warm walls hug him his pace quickened breathlessly thrusting into you.

Your knuckles on one of your hands turned white from how tightly you held onto the edge of the kitchen counter while your other arm was wrapped around Charles’ neck.

His eyes rolled at the sight of his cock disappearing into your pussy that was now making loud wet noises that always drove Charles crazy. He kissed you passionately bringing his hand from your hip to your cheek then down to your neck firmly gripping it making your throw your head back.

“Fuck, Charles” You panted.

“Like that, baby? Does it feel good?” He asked tightening his grip around your neck.

“Yeah, fuck, just like that.” You gasped struggling to breath now.

“I bet he can’t fuck you like this, hm?” Miles was anything but on your mind right now, but all Charles wanted to hear was that no one could make you feel the way he could. “Do you let him cum inside you?”

“Charles..”

“Answer me.” He was kind of scared to find out because he didn’t want anyone to have that privilege but him. It was his way of claiming you as his.

“No, ah-“ You cried out tightening around his cock making him curse under his breath.

“You gonna cum?” He asked looking down at you and connecting your lips after you nodded yes. “Me too, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up so good, fuuck”

A couple of more thrusts and your orgasms washed over both of you leaving you panting and moaning into each others mouth. His knees buckled and his head fell against your shoulder burying his neck into your neck as he filled you up to the brim.

When your breathing calmed down, Charles took your face between his hands and began to kiss you unusually tenderly. Once he regained strength in his legs he pulled his cock out of you hissing at the sight of his cum dripping out of you. He pulled you to him and wrapped your legs around his waist lifting you up from the counter and leading you to your room.

He gently put you down on the bed hovering over you and continuing with the tender small kisses all over your body. That was unusual for him because normally after you'd fucked he'd kiss you once or twice and you'd both fall asleep right away and in the morning you'd pretend like nothing happened the night before.

“Charles, what are you doing?” You asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” He asked laying next to you and pulling you against his body so he was facing your back as his arms hugged you tightly.

“We usually don’t do this..” You pointed out.

“Do you not like it?” He asked insecurity clear in his voice.

“No, I mean, I do like it, but it’s just not something that we do you know..”

He sighed gathering the courage to tell you what he was about to and what has been bothering him for quite some time now. “I’ve made so many mistakes in my life can’t even count them.” He paused. “One of them is not making you mine a long time ago and letting other guys have you.”

You didn't expect this confession from him and to be honest, you didn't even know how to respond to what he just told you. Some kind of inexplicable feeling appeared in your stomach that you have never felt before so you turned around to face him looking straight into his eyes with parted lips.

“Everything’s easier with you by my side” He said quietly and you were still speechless. It's not like you never thought about Charles, about you, in that kind of way, it’s just that you never wanted to initiate first and you never thought he saw as anything other than his best friend who he fucks here and there. “I hope I didn't realize that too late”

“Charles, I don’t know what to say.. I’m honestly too scared to try anything with you.”

“Do you not trust me?” He asked a little hurt by the choice of your words.

“I don’t trust us, Charles. We secretly hurt other people by doing this and I just don’t want us to hurt each other the same way. And most of all I don't want to lose you. You mean too much to me”

Even through the half-dark room, you could see that his eyes became glossy as he bit the inside of his cheek, holding back.

“When it comes to us, there would be no other people on the side, y/n. I swear, I’d never hurt you like that.” He took the palm of your hand and brought it up to his lips leaving a soft kiss over it. “Give us a chance, baby, please” He half whispered sounding almost desperate.

You kissed him calming his inner turmoil for a second. “Why does this feel so frightening? I don’t even know how to start this?” You said pulling back.

“Let’s start by not seeing other people anymore, yeah?” He said tucking the hair behind your ear as he raised himself on his elbows to be above you.

“Yeah, okay” You whispered.

“And let me start by making love to you, the way you deserve it.” He said between kisses. “To show you how much I love you, how much I always have.”

[darkbluekies]

God i want a dark!dr.kry fic soo bad. I read your most recent silas fic and I thought it was so good i ATE IT UP

Things you shouldn't see

Doctor!yandere x reader Summary: you've finally realized what type of man Dr Kry is, and what he is capable of doing. Warnings: murder, bruises, yandere, poison etc. Word count: 2.3k

Your crying hurts him, it really does, but he can’t be soft. Not now. You had tried to escape again. If he hadn’t come back in time to catch you in the door, God knows what could have happened to you. 

“Please, please don’t”, you sob as he cuffs your wrists to the bed’s railing with belt-looking leather. “Please, I’m sorry.”

“Spare your voice, Y/N”, he tells you sharply. “Begging and pleading won’t work — you're not a child. You put yourself in this situation, didn’t you? How about we take some adult consequences?” He fixes the last buckle. “Too tight?”

You don't answer, you only cry. Dr Kry grabs your chin softly to direct your attention back to him. 

“Y/N, listen to me”, he says sternly. “Are the restraints too tight? Yes or no? Don’t lie.”

“No”, you sob. 

“Good. You know why I’m doing this, right? I don’t think it’s funny.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop with the bullshit, Y/N. I caught you in the damn door, Y/N.” He sighs frustratedly and runs a hand through his blonde hair. “I can’t let this slip. You almost escaped from me once, remember? I’m not letting that happen again. I’m going to go get you dinner and you are going to get yourself together until I’m back, okay?”

You nod slightly. When he's exited the room, you break out into sobs again. Have to get them out of your system before he returns. You hate him. Hate him so much.

He's back ten minutes later with two cardboard boxes filled with food. He looks somewhat pleased that you're not crying anymore. He stands by his desk.

“You don't understand that I want what's best for you”, Dr Kry says while opening the plastic lids. “If you did, you wouldn't try to do stupid stuff like this.”

“Turn it off”, you say through gritted teeth.

He glances at the air purifier, already knowing what you’re talking about.

“No, I will not”, he says simply. 

“You're killing me!”

Dr Kry scoffs and dumps your foodbox on your legs.

“If I wanted you dead, Y/N, you'd already be in the mortuary”, he says and rolls over to you on his stool. “But as you can tell by your current status in your room, I don't.”

He picks up the fork and holds a bite of potato to your lips. You refuse to open your mouth. 

“Are we doing this?” he asks with raised eyebrows. “Do I need to be mean?”

“Please don’t”, you whisper, scared. 

“You don’t want me to be mean?”

You shake your head quickly. 

“Good, me neither”, Dr Kry says. “Glad that we can agree on something. Open your mouth now.”

You open your mouth enough for him to put in the fork in your mouth. Dr Kry notices how you fight back the tears and sighs in defeat. 

“If you really want to cry, then do it”, he says quietly. 

It’s a trick. He actually doesn’t want you to cry, and you know that. But the tear that runs down your cheek can’t be brought back. You flinch when his hand brushes against your cheek to wipe it softly. He holds another fork of potato and meat to your mouth. You grimace slightly. 

“Just eat and you’ll get to sleep”, Dr Kry promises you.

“Turn it off”, you whisper. “Please.”

Dr Kry sighs and walks over to the air purifier, turning it off. The soft buzzing finally, finally stopped. Dr Kry can tell that you relax in your restraints. 

“Thank you”, you whisper without looking at him. 

“I’ll have to turn it on again”, he says. 

“Why?” 

“Because it keeps you where I want you. It’s much easier than keeping you cuffed to the bed like this.”

You tug at the restraints, as if you suddenly remember that you’re wearing them. Dr Kry’s hand shoots out over your right wrist. 

“Stop”, he says. “Don’t do that. I don’t like to see bruises on you. Just let it be. Give in, alright?”

You glance down at his large hand and grow cold. Could he break your wrist? Could he actually hurt you if he really wanted to? Without tools, without medicine and drugs?

“Open your mouth”, Dr Kry and removes his hand to give you the fork full of food. 

This time, you open your mouth without fuss. He smiles, pleased.

“Have I fucked up for myself now?” you mumble without looking at him.

“Just a tad bit”, Dr Kry smiles and wipes some sauce of your lips with his thumb. “But it's nothing that we can't restore.”

She had seen it, and although she tried to convince herself that she was overthinking, she couldn't bring herself to admit that everything was okay with Dr Kry’s patient — or Dr Kry for that matter. There has always been something with him that has rubbed her the wrong way. He's always been polite and helpful, but she thinks that it's a facade. There is something he's hiding, she can tell that there's a certain darkness in his eyes. And the fact that they never see, hear or get any reports about his patient — despite being here for so long — worries her.

One day, she decides to sneak inside. You’re lying in the hospital bed, sleeping soundly. But other than that, the room is empty. The woman notices how your wrists are … cuffed to the side of the bed. She sneaks over to you and carefully shakes your shoulder. You open your eyes slowly, and then dart them open. In pure fear, you start to tug at the restraints. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” the woman shrieks. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“Who are you?!” you gasp. “Where’s Dr Kry?!”

“I don’t know, please be quiet, I’m not going to hurt you.”

You eventually start to calm down. 

“Why are you cuffed to the bed?” the woman asks carefully, feeling a shiver run down her spine. “What has he done to you?”

“Please help me”, you beg. 

“I saw that you tried to leave the room before … and that he snatched you back.”

“I-I will.”

“Please help me, I’m begging you, he’s killing me!” you nod at the air purifier. “He’s poisoned it! You have to help me!”

She is just about to unbuckle the leather strands keeping you to the bed when the door opens. You meet eyes with Dr Kry and feel how your entire body goes numb. 

Shit.

His eyes glare at the woman as he slowly closes the door behind him, locking it shut. 

“Can I help you?” he asks coldly. “What are you doing with my patient?”

The woman spins around and stutters in fear. 

“Who allowed you to come in here?” Dr Kry asks, sounding suspicious — and extremely angry, although he tries to hide it. “Speak up!”

“I-I …”, the woman stutters. 

Dr Kry walks closer. You’ve never seen his body language this … territorial before. It’s almost animalistic. 

“What have they told you?” he asks the woman. 

“Nothing!” the woman shrieks. 

With one quick glance at you, he scoffs with a small, cold smile on his face. 

“I wouldn’t believe anything they say, ma’am”, he says amusedly, although you’re sure that he’s angry like a bee. “They’re sick, they’re not thinking clearly. Seems like we have to talk after this.”

“Don’t be angry at them”, the woman says, finally collecting herself. “You are the one abusing your position. You should be the one who’s getting yelled at!”

“Oh, I’m not mad at my patient. How could I? If they don’t know what’s good for themselves, how could I ever expect them to know when to speak …” He gave you a warning look, “... and when to shut up?” He looked back at the woman. “They’re sick, after all.”

“Why are you keeping them prisoner?”

Dr Kry puts his hands into his pockets, shrugging. “I’m not keeping anyone prisoner. Did they tell you that?”

“You’ve poisoned the air purifier.”

“Why would I ever do that?” he laughs. “That’s absurd! You don’t think I have other things to do? A real job?” He takes a step closer. He’s almost reaching her by now. “Listen, my patient has been reading a lot of fantasy stories while being emitted here, and they must have spun their head out of control. Being in a hospital for as long as they have, all alone, must mess with ones head a bit. Don’t worry about it.”

He has slammed it over the nurse’s head, striking her to the floor. You fight against the restraints, but they’re as stuck as stone. Dr Kry continues to hit the poor nurse with the metal pipe, causing blood to splatter over the walls — and you. You can’t breathe when the red liquid lands on your face, too horrified to even move. The screams from the woman turns into moans of pain, then sobs, then silence. Dr Kry huffs and gets up from the ground, letting go of the metal pipe that clinks against the floor. His white coat and blue overalls are drenched in blood, and his face is covered in red. You’re shivering in your bed and meet his eyes with wide open eyes. 

Dr Kry walks over to his desk. You can tell how he picks up a metal pipe used for the IV-stand you use every now and then.

“No!” you scream, but it’s too late. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t want you to see that”, he pants lowly. 

Sobs start to exit your body. Dr Kry hurries over to you, sinking down on his knees by the bed, almost lying his upper body into yours. 

“I’m sorry, little one”, he whispers and cups your cheeks. 

“Don’t touch me!” you try to scream while doing your best to turn your head away, but his strong grip is forcing you to stay still, forces you to look at him. 

“I didn’t want you to see that”, he repeats. “Why did she have to come and but into our business, hm? Oh, please don’t blame yourself for her death. It’s not your fault.”

He notices how you’re trying to rip your head away from him. 

“I know that you’re afraid”, he says. “It was not your fault, okay? I don’t blame you, I could never blame you, you know that.” He wipes your tears. “Please, don’t cry. I’m not going to do it again.”

You’re unsure if you’ve ever sobbed this harshly before in your life. The cries ripple through your body, forcing your chest to lift with every sob. It hurts, like an unwelcomed workout. Dr Kry holds your face against his chest, hushing as he hugs your head close to him. You can feel how fast his heart is beating, and it makes you nauseous. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up”, Dr Kry says and unbuckles you. 

You hesitate getting out of bed, glancing careful down at the dead body bleeding out on the floor. Dr Kry hurries to pick you up in his arms and walk into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him and places you down in the tub. Carefully, he removes your hospital gown and turns on the shower. You refuse to look his way. 

“Listen, Y/N”, he says and sinks down outside the tub. “There are things you shouldn’t see … and this was one of them. I don’t want you to think of me as a monster. I’m a realist, okay?”

“Is that what you’re going to do to me if I try to leave again?” you cry. 

“No! Don’t even say such nonsense. That’s absurd. How could you ever think that?”

You find it ironic that he grows offended. He starts to wash off the blood from your face with the gentle stream of the shower. 

He takes one of your wrists in hand and lets his thumb run over the deep mark from the leather. 

“I told you not to fight against it”, he whispers with a sigh. “We’ll have to put bandage on that.”

Dr Kry continues to wash the blood off of you and his own hands. You follow the red water down the drain. 

He puts the shower head back on the hanger and tells you to wait there until he comes back. You hug your knees close to your chest and watch how he disappears out of the bathroom. You can hear how he starts to clean up the body outside the closed door. This is what happens to the people who believe you. Those that trust Dr Kry’s words about you being too sick to function, and start to hallucinate, are no help … but those that are never get far enough. 

You shiver from cold air hitting your wet, naked body and bring your knees even closer to you. There’s a new form of silence in the room, a silence that eats you up from the inside … and yet, silence had never been this loud before. You would be able to hear a needle drop to the floor on the other side of the hospital.

It had taken wells to gather the courage to try to run away again, and it had been shattered in the moment of two seconds. Your hope had been sparked again when you saw the nurse, and knew that she was one of the few that actually believed you. 

You turn your face down into your knees and cry in realization that you’ll never get to leave the hospital as long as Dr Kry is around. In time, the poisoned air purifier will have killed you … but you’re unsure that you’ll get to leave the hospital even then.

I’m going to die.

[distantdarlings]

ANY FEELINGS // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Gender-Neutral Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* As Theo plucks up the courage to ask you out on a date, you soothe your repressed feelings for the boy by filling your nights with other men.

+ WARNINGS - Mentions of smut! (But no actual). Sexual descriptions, language, gender-neutral reader, conflict between Cormac and Theo, very brief description of a fight (non-graphic), kissing, kissing w/o consent, not proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Consume - Chase Atlantic

- - -

“Dude, you're gonna have to grow some balls at some point…”

“Shut the fuck up, man!” 

Theo laid a slap to the back of one of his best mate’s heads. Enzo was a great friend, but he tended to be a bit too judgmental when it came to you. 

Theo had had some sort of feelings for you since he first met you, but whether they were platonic or romantic or…something else, he wasn’t sure. 

Enzo seemed to be completely confident that Theo’s feelings for you—whatever they may be categorized as—could be chalked up to one thing only: love. 

Every time Theo heard Enzo pleading with him to just ask you out or grab your hand while he was walking next to you, he lost more patience. The boy sitting next to him was stupid, but sometimes he wondered if he should even be permitted to attend Hogwarts. 

“I don’t know, man,” Mattheo piped up. “Maybe Enzo’s right…you seem pretty into them every time we all hang out.” The dark boy diagonal from Theo shrugged his shoulders. 

“How would either of you know how I’m feeling?” Theo asked, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because you fucking gawk at them everytime they’re around—I mean, you’re practically fucking drooling,” Enzo said, pursing his lips.

“Whatever, I am not.” 

“‘Not,’” Enzo mouthed to Mattheo, making air quotes with his fingers. 

Theo clenched his jaw and shoved the boy over, before getting to his feet.

The three of them had been sitting next to the Black Lake during dinner, hoping to get away from some of the noisy chatter in the Great Hall. 

“Look, just try it out,” Mattheo suggested, squinting against the sun. “Think about it tonight—”

“When you’re alone in bed and about to rub one out!” Enzo cut Mattheo off. Theo glared down at him in disgust. Just before he could react to what the boy had said, Mattheo smacked Enzo on the back of the head.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Mattheo started back. “I meant to mull it over as you’re about to fall asleep tonight. That’s generally when I can get the most thinking done. It’s quiet and nonjudgmental.” 

He glared over at Enzo.

“Alright, then,” Theo sighed, pressing a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. “I guess I will.”

Once the three of them had separated and gone their own ways, Theo decided to make a change to his evening plans.

He had originally planned on following Mattheo down to the Three Broomsticks for a mug of Butterbeer, but—upon the dark-haired boy’s suggestion of staying in—he decided to head back into the castle.

He’d have a bit of a shower then take an early night so he could think about what he wanted to do. What he wanted to do about you. 

It wasn’t just the constant pressure from Enzo to ask you out that had you circling around his thoughts. He didn’t need the badgering from his friends to think about you. 

Theo thought of you all the time anyway, with little being prioritized over you. The confusing nature of the feelings came from the fact that his thoughts of you were so often varied. 

One minute, he’d be thinking of your laugh—the way you tilted your head back, eyes clenched, with mouth wide, smile glistening. Next, he’d be imagining you naked above him, begging for him to give you more.

It’d been this way forever. He wanted you in more ways than one, but just one of those ways would ruin every other. 

If Theo admitted that he wanted to be the last face you saw every night and the first you saw every morning, and you rejected him, he’d never heal from it. He needed you too much in any way to let something get in the way of that. 

So he’d held back for years and years, until, apparently, he’d started to become a little too obvious. At least, enough so that Mattheo and Enzo had noticed. 

Now, with the support—and borderline bullying—from them, he was feeling confident. Like he could actually ask you to be his.

Still, he hesitated.

He made his way through the castle, counting the sconces on the wall and running through example admissions he could give you. If he were to tell you how he felt, he couldn’t fuck it up. 

You deserved the best of him, if you even deserved him at all. Theo wasn’t much compared to you, but everything he felt for you was genuine and that wasn’t something that was so easy to explain to Mattheo and Enzo, assholes as they were.

He stopped before the entrance to the Slytherin common room, mumbled the password, and made his way through, hardly straying from his imaginary conversations.

Distractedly, he headed upstairs and prepared himself a shower. 

Mattheo said he thought the best while laying in bed, but Theo wondered if the shower might be a better alternative for him. He worried that he might not ever get to sleep if he let all of his thoughts pool into one part of his day. 

So, he shed his clothes, pulled the water as hot as it would go and stepped beneath the boiling rain. 

Between the steam and the warmth, he could’ve fallen asleep, but the thoughts of telling you how he felt kept him wired enough to focus. 

There were a thousand possibilities swirling through his head, trying to guide him in the right direction. 

He weighed a couple options back and forth, trying to let imagined scenarios play out with each, but no matter what he said or did, it always ended with him embarrassing himself, you hating him, or him accidentally setting something on fire. Never mind that last option—there was a brief consideration of fireworks. 

He let the water run across his shoulders and slip down his chest. He applied a bit of hair oils to his hands, letting the personal concoction he’d whipped up settle in his palm. He’d always had pretty dry hair but it tended to get a bit oily during this time of year, leading him to switch over to a different product—or, rather, a combination of products.

He lathered the oils in his hair and closed his eyes.

The massage his fingers applied to his head was just relaxing enough to keep his mind occupied for a second. He didn’t stop thinking of you—he never did—but he was allowed a few moments’ peace. He accepted the nurturing sensation, attempting to ignore his imagination trying to replace his hands with yours.

Then, suddenly, he got it! He knew exactly how to tell you how he felt. 

He quickly rinsed all of the remaining bubbles from his hair and scrubbed the rest of his body, before shutting the water off and whispering a small spell. In an instant, the wetness coating his body evaporated into thin air, and he was bone-dry. 

He slipped his pajamas on, gathered his day clothes, and made his way back to the dorm. 

If he was going to do this, he wanted to make sure he did it properly. He had about a thousand ideas, a notebook, quill, and ten hours to kill. Needless to say, he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

- - -

You set yourself down at the end of the Slytherin table and poured a bit of coffee into your mug.  

With the night you had just before, you could use a bit of caffeine. Nothing you had expected to happen yesterday did, and everything you hadn’t expected to happen had. In ten fold. 

Between the three tests, the spilled pumpkin juice all over your bottoms, the near-fight between your best friend, Draco, and some Gryffindor, you had had enough by the end of all of it. 

You had wanted to sleep after all of the activity. But, instead, you had Cormac McLaggen. 

And you had gotten all of him. From his chestnut curls to his strong arms to his hips moving against yours. Thank Merlin he was a Quidditch player with immense stamina, else the two of you never would have lasted past the third or fourth rounds. 

A smirk appeared across your face at the thought of him and everything he had given you last night. Even with how insufferable he was as soon as he decided to talk, his mouth seemed proficient in other things. 

You sipped your coffee as students began to file in, lazily scuffing their feet across the floor, urgent to get a muffin. 

Despite your urge to busy your mind with schoolwork and your plans for the day, it kept falling back to that stupid Gryffindor boy.

His fingers weren’t the most skilled, nor was the rest of his body, but he followed instructions like he was born to do so. 

But even though he had done so well for you last night, and even though he’d seemed so eager to please, your mind couldn’t help but stray when you were with him last night. It couldn’t help but stray even now. Stray to a different boy.

Theodore Nott. The most gorgeous boy you’d ever laid your eyes on. Draco had introduced you to him during your first year; he’d said their fathers knew each other. Needless to say, you’d knew you wanted to be with him from the moment you saw him.

Even when you had no others, Theodore Nott was your goal. 

Seconds into thinking about Theo, and you were already thinking about his body, and replacing Cormac’s touch with his. Just like you had last night.

Perhaps it was unfair to Cormac, but you both knew you hadn’t hooked up for ‘love’—more like mutual attraction and convenience. 

You were thinking about the way Cormac had gasped above you and the way his mouth had felt on you, then suddenly it was Theo’s mouth where his had been, and Theo’s hands holding yours to the bed. 

It was enough to make you readjust in your seat just a bit. Even your fantasies of Theo made you red in the face. How pathetic. 

But, Merlin, if it wasn’t so nice to picture…his hands running down—

“Mind if I sit here?”

You glanced up suddenly, using every bit of will power in your body not to choke and spew coffee everywhere. 

If it wasn’t Theodore fucking Nott standing right before your eyes, you might have mistook him for an angel. Your eyes widened instinctually.

“E-er, yeah, Theo…take a seat,” you said with a forced smile. 

You watched him like a hawk as he seemed to effortlessly slide against the table, taking his seat before the hundreds of breakfast items lined along the oaken surface. 

If you didn’t know any better, you figured that he knew you were staring at him over your coffee mug, but he was ignoring it. He seemed to be considering his meal options, rather than focusing on you.

“So, how are you?” you asked, swallowing thickly. He glanced up as if he’d forgotten you were there. 

“Oh, good…yeah, pretty good. How are you?” 

You felt crazy. There was no way he’d just shown up like this while you’d been imagining him in the dirtiest scenarios—it couldn’t just be a coincidence. Maybe he was a Legilimens. Or one of his friends was. Shit, wasn’t Mattheo Riddle one? 

You smiled nervously. “Uh, yeah, I’m good.” 

“Good.” He selected a mug and poured some tea.

“Yeah…” You took a sip of your coffee.

“Listen, I wanted to talk to you about—” 

A kiss was pressed to the outer point of your jawline. Slightly rough, cracked lips with a hint of stubble across the chin. Warm breath. The scent of leather polish and something earthy. Shit.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he said against your ear, sending chills down your arms. Perhaps you had been wrong. Perhaps Cormac had been interested in more of a relationship with you, past the purely physical aspect. 

You swore Theo’s eyes widened and his face fell. He seemed almost shocked or disappointed. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

“Hey,” you whispered back, a bit of a smile spreading across your lips at the familiar smell. Despite your lack of real feelings for him, Cormac did make you pretty happy, at least on a surface level. 

“I’m gonna grab something to eat then head back to bed if you want to join me…,” he let his voice trail off in a joking tone as he slipped away. He headed towards the Gryffindor table, never looking back. You watched him as he walked for a few moments then turned back to Theo.

“So, McLaggen, huh?” he asked. His jaw was clenched tightly and his eyes were surveying your face. He seemed to be searching for something.

“Oh, we—er, I mean, not really,” you chuckled.

“What does that mean?” He didn’t laugh in return.

“We kind of just—”

“Whatever…it’s none of my business.” He cut you off. He took one large sip from his mug, draining its contents before turning to go. You hopped to your feet.

“Theo, I—” you started to call after him, but he was already gone. Fuck, was he mad?

You sat back down and wrapped your fingers back around your cup. Something in you deflated like it had been poked with a needle—maybe it was your heart…or your stomach. You weren’t sure.

Cormac fluttered about the Gryffindor table, talking here and there, and grabbing bits of food. Your eyes followed him, watching his every movement. 

You could see the muscles rippling beneath his pajama tee shirt—a gray cotton number that fit him in all the right places; could see the honey curls that curled over his eyes; could see the way his eyes flicked over to you every so often. Damn, the way he looked at you was so good…

But Theo was something else entirely. If Cormac was fire, Theo was electricity. 

Theo replaced everything—Cormac’s eyes, lips, fingers. It was as if every memory was being replaced by him and there was nothing you could do to control it. 

Then, before you could blink, and realize what was happening, Theo was walking back through the door. And also making a bee line for Cormac. Shit. 

You stood slowly, waiting to see if you should intervene—or to see if you were just imagining the whole Theo-interested-in-you situation. 

A few moments passed where Theo said one thing, Cormac said another, Theo pointed at you, Cormac said another thing and then laughed. Whatever he said earned a few chuckles from his friends sitting around him. 

There was a beat. 

Then Theo punched Cormac as hard as he could. 

You gasped and rose to run toward the group that had now begun to swarm around Theo. It seemed that whoever had been laughing with Cormac obviously supported him enough to try and attack Theo, because once you’d gotten over there, they’d already laid a couple punches to Theo. 

Never mind he was up against three other guys, he was holding his own. Every time they successfully landed a punch, Theo would fire back with one of his own. And he’d fire back hard. 

“Stop!” you shouted, attempting to force yourself between them. Without looking, Theo spared an arm for a moment long enough that he could keep you pushed back behind him. 

“No, Theo! Cormac! That’s enough!” You struggled against Theo. 

Finally, you’d wrestled enough that you slipped free from Theo’s guard and slipped past them. You pushed him back as hard as you could, and turned to face the other boys as quickly as you could so they wouldn’t force themselves past you. 

“All of you stop it right now!” You shouted, panting heavily from the effort it took to push Theo away. “You come with me.”

You pulled Theo behind you by his hand and exited through the looming doors of the Great Hall, leaving Cormac and his goons in shock. In their defense, a lot had happened in about five minutes.

Once through the doors, you Disapparated quickly, never letting go of Theo’s hand. You landed in your dormitory. 

A quick survey of the room and a mumbled locking spell later, the two of you were alone and Theo was bleeding. 

You conjured a bit of gauze and ointment from somewhere in the hospital wing, promising you’d return it later.

Sitting Theo down gently on the edge of your bed, you began to gently apply a bit of the soaked gauze to the cut on his cheek and the blood seeping from his nose. He hissed ever so slightly at the stinging, but kept his eyes on you.

“Why did you hit him?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. His eyes moved away from you.

A few moments of silence passed. The minute you thought he might never say something, he spoke up.

“McLaggen’s not a good guy.”

You scoffed. “Really? That’s all you have to say? You hit Cormac because he’s ‘not a good guy?’ There’s billions of people who aren’t good people that I don’t go around decking every time I see them! Why did you really hit him, Theo?”

You stared him down, demanding an answer with every glance he cast your way. 

“Because of what he said about you.” 

You were taken aback. “W-what did he say?”

***

Theo walked out of the Great Hall, trying his best to swallow the rage that was building up in his throat. Of course you were with someone. You were absolutely perfect. It was false hope for him to have thought he’d ever had a chance with you. He threw his plans from his mind. 

As he stormed through the stone halls, flashes of the way McLaggen had come up right behind you and touched you like he owned you, pissed him off so badly he was shaking. 

The way his lips had touched your cheek, the way you’d smiled so softly, the way you’d looked at him afterwards. It was clear you pitied him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with you. It wasn’t your fault. If you wanted McLaggen, that was fine. He just needed…he just needed to make sure you were being treated right. 

On a whim, he turned back around before he could stop himself, and marched back into the Great Hall. 

If Theo couldn’t have you, he at least needed to ensure that whoever did have you was treating you right. You deserved it more than anyone did.

He spotted McLaggen leaned around a couple other guys, chattering and laughing. Honestly, just the sight of the jock pissed him off. 

“Hey! McLaggen!” The dirty blonde boy glanced up, eyebrows quickly shifting from shocked to on his guard. 

“Nott.” He nodded his head toward Theo. The boys gathered around him seemed to look up to, always prepared for some kind of conflict.

If they hadn’t known any better, Theo would have guessed they assumed this was a Quidditch issue. But it wasn’t. 

“Can I talk to you alone?” Theo asked.

“What for? If this is about the Quidditch pitch this weekend, McGonagall already said—” McLaggen started.

“It’s not about that,” Theo interrupted him. He was right, Cormac did think this was a Quidditch issue. Why else would Theo want to interact with him?

“Oh, wait…this is about them, isn’t it?” McLaggen laughed, nodding his head in your direction. Theo’s jaw twitched at the thought of him talking about you.

“I just wanted to say that they’re really important to me, and I want you to take care of them.”

“What—are you their dad?” McLaggen snorted.

“No, man. But they’re a very close friend of mine and I want to ensure that you’re going to be good to them.” Theo pointed in your direction without thinking about it. 

“Who are we talking about again?” Theo’s jaw clenched at his response.

“Man, come on. I’m not asking for a lot. I care about my friend.”

“Are you sure they’re just your friend? I could’ve sworn they screamed your name last night.” 

The blood drained from Theo’s face as he heard McLaggen’s words. He was stunned for a moment.

“What did you say?” Theo muttered, barely able to form words.

“I said, ‘when I was fucking them last night, I think they said your name.’ It didn’t really matter anyways, because they were just a distraction for me. They’re not the prettiest thing, but good enough when they’re on their knees—”

Theo couldn’t handle it anymore. Without a second thought or a blink, Theo swung his fist at Cormac’s jaw as hard as he could. He didn’t know who this fucker thought he was, but he wasn’t going to talk about you like that. 

Somewhere distantly, he thought he heard you shout his name, but he’d started something he couldn’t just walk away from. 

***

“That’s what he said about you… I couldn’t just let him get away with that. Someone had to show him some consequences.” 

From the beginning, you had insisted that whatever was happening between you and Cormac was purely situational, but somehow his words still hurt. 

You were flashing between angry and sad and hurt and mortified—you didn’t know what to feel. Had you really screamed Theo’s name last night? The fact that you genuinely couldn’t say whether you did or not, made you scared. 

What did Theo think? Was he disgusted?

“Theo, I think the asshole was just trying to ramp you up,” you chuckled nervously. “I didn’t…s-scream your name last night.” The last words were little more than a whisper. You averted your eyes, finding the stone floor quite interesting all of a sudden. You couldn’t believe you were having to say that.

“Can I ask you one thing?” Theo breathed. He seemed much closer to you now, then he had been before. His breaths mingled with yours slowly…melodically…

Your eyes flickered between him and the floor, only viewing him through split seconds where his darkened skin flashed against the sunlight outside. Fuck, he was beautiful. 

How many times had you imagined tracing that olive skin? 

“Er, yes, of course,” you said distantly. “You can ask me anything, Theo.”

“Have…you ever…” 

His words came out thickened and slow, as if they were honey dripping from his lips. They poured wetly through his teeth, hot and searing. You could feel them cover your body, pouring delicately over your skin and covering your mind. The syllables that left his lips had your head spinning. You felt as if you might be sick.

“...had any feelings…”

His lips shuddered slightly between words, his eyes were looking directly into yours, the contact never wavering. You had plucked up the courage to stare up into those oceanic features, but just enough to get the gist of what he was asking. You couldn’t bear to look at him as you debated your answer.

“...for me…?”

Fuck.

Your eyelids fluttered closed. A deep sigh pushed from your nostrils as your lips pinched together. If you had known that sleeping with Cormac McClaggen would somehow set into motion the timeline that would out your long-lived crush on Theodore Nott, you’d never have said yes to the bastard. Besides, it wasn’t as if you weren’t thinking of Theo the whole time—so much so that you apparently had “screamed his name.” Merlin, this was the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to you. 

“Theo, uh… I don’t know if this is a good—” you started.

“Please,” he shuddered, his gentle hands pressing softly to either cheek. He tilted your head upwards to force more eye contact. The physical touch had you reeling. You had never been so close to him before, except for in your mind. “If you have, I need to know. I will not force anything from you, but I need to know.”

Your eyes flickered back and forth nervously as you summoned any strength that was left floating around in your fleeting esteem. You wanted so badly to tell him. Tell him about all those dinners you’d left early because your mind was so clouded with thoughts of him, about all of the classes you’d been called on to answer a question you weren’t even aware was being asked because you were too busy sketching him in your books, about all of the nights your fingers had slipped beneath your silk covers to pleasure yourself from a mere thought of him. 

A glimpse of him in your mind’s eye had been more than enough for years and years, but now—with your head cradled beneath his strong hands—you feared it’d never be enough again.

“Yes,” you choked out. The word came out small and harmless, as if you’d been holding your breath for too long before letting it out. 

And before you were able to wrench your face from his grasp, he’d leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. 

A muffled yelp of surprise slipped out between the two of you, but he swallowed the noise with a deep sigh. Despite never imagining this was how your confession of love would go, you couldn’t help but appreciate that it was happening now. 

Everything in you urged you to pull away and demand he leave for assuming you wanted to be kissed. But the child harboring a deep love for the boy they’d spotted on the train all those years ago pushed you to curl your fingers into the soft, brown strands atop his head.

A slight moan, almost in that of relief, was pressed into your mouth. His hands released your face and wrapped around your waist, clutching tightly to your waistband. He pulled you closer to him, his chest bumping yours. 

He wanted you, he wanted you, he wanted you, and he’d fucking gotten you. He reminded himself to punch Enzo and Mattheo in the gut when he got away from you. That was, if he ever pulled away from you. The feel of your lips on his was something out of a dream—one that his wildly imaginative mind could not have even mustered up. 

And finally, after years of debating, a shitty one-night stand, and thousands of shower pep-talks, Theo had finally worked up the nerve to taste your lips. And you had finally worked up the nerve to swallow your pride and confess your love to Theo, rather than projecting it through other vectors. 

And though the two of you would eventually pull apart, giggle quietly to one another, and announce your newfound infatuation for each other to all of your friends the following day, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was quite right. Everything had fallen into place except for one thing. 

Theo, as you would soon come to learn, always knew when something was wrong—oftentimes even when you didn’t realize it yourself. He would come to prove this many times over the following years of your relationship, but none better than when he had managed to learn a spell just for you. 

A spell that completely evaporated all of Cormac McClaggen’s clothes from his dormitory—and his body—whilst in the middle of Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

“That’ll show the fucker,” Theo had whispered into your ear amongst the loud bickering and laughing. 

- - -

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