#HE PURRING HE TECHNICALLY PURRING I LOVE

[themultifanshipper]

Could you do ⚫️ with oscar

Oscar could hardly believe his eyes.

He was halfway across the world, in a meeting, staring at the thumbnail of a video that you'd just sent him.

Warnings: Sex tape(technically), masturbation, male and female, use of toys, a dildo specifically, dirty talk, mention on reader being innocent, and slight corruption?

Requested from my prompt list

He'd almost clicked on the video out of habit before his brain caught up to his eyes and he realised you were on the thumbnail, and there was very little fabric on your body.

He slammed his phone face down in his lap, and tried to contain the redness forming on his cheeks, as well as the hardness forming in his shorts.

He completely ignored the rest of the meeting, mind racing and trying to comprehend what he'd just seen.

You'd never done anything like this before, always keeping your sex life firmly between the walls of your bedroom.

Not that he was complaining, you were so sweet and innocent, it really turned him on when he thought of when he'd first met you.

You were so adorably naive, and he'd taken great pleasure in teaching you everything he knew. You were all his to corrupt and mold into his little slut.

But all of that stayed in the bedroom!

You'd never so much as sent a dirty text. Never mind a whole video of you doing god knows what while he was at work.

It was too late now, he was hard. And the meeting wasn't going to end anytime soon.

So he did what any rational horny man would do, he grabbed his phone, excused himself from the meeting and rushed to the bathroom to watch that video.

And what a video it was. Barely 10 seconds in, his shorts were already pulled down around his thighs and his cock was leaking into his fist.

“Hey baby, I hope you're having a good day at work” you purred.

The sound was turned down low but it seemed like the loudest thing in the universe to Oscar.

“I know you must feeling lonely at the moment so I decided to show you what I get up to when you're gone…”

Oscar was throbbing in his hand. He took a quick look at the time stamp, 00:24/08:56.

Holy fucking shit, no way was he going to last nine minutes.

You went to sit on the edge of the bed and he got a good look at you for the first time.

You were wearing a set of papaya lingerie. The bra was beautifully intricate, but it hid absolutely nothing, your nipples on display as your hands ran across your skin and went up to pinch them.

What caught his eye though, was your panties. Your crotchless panties.

Oscar felt a drop of precum slide down his cock that he refused to touch, lest he come too soon and ruin this experience.

“Do you like the set? I got it the day after you left. I already missed you so much I wanted something that reminded me of you.”

Oscar couldn't help it, he took himself in hand and squeezed lightly, just to take the edge off.

You climbed onto the bed and spread your legs. Even in the dim lighting, he could tell you were wet and god, you were going to be the death of him.

One of your hands trailed down your stomach and came to rest just above your shiny slit.

“Look Oscar, look how fucking wet you make me and you're not even here… it's pathetic”

Your hand went lower, to spread your folds for him, just to drive Oscar mad. And unbeknownst to you it was succeeding beautifully and then some.

Oscar growled at the sight, gripping himself harder.

Your fingers rubbed through your folds, wetting them just like he always did, before bringing them to your mouth for a taste.

Fuck.

Oscar glanced at the time again Only 2 and half minutes in? how was that possible, he felt like he'd been staring at your pussy for an hour now.

Or maybe he'd accidentally paused the video to stare at the work of art that was laying on his bed.

“I taste so sweet, no wonder you love spending so much time between my legs”

Your hand went back down to circle your entrance before dipping inside, and you let out a low gasp at the intrusion.

Oscar blacked out somewhere between that and the third finger, only realising he'd missed anything when you took your fingers out and sucked them clean, while maintaining intense eye contact with the camera.

Oscar was about to combust, and he'd also seemingly forgotten about his dick as his hand tightened suddenly and he groaned at the sight of you quickly getting off the bed.

Was it over?

He frowned and checked the time. The video was only just over half way through…

“Now for something I think you'll really enjoy…”

You pulled out of the bedside drawer what Oscar realised with a start was… a dildo.

Where the fuck had you been hiding that? He had no idea you owned it.

You grabbed some lube as well and it dawned on Oscar that this was why the panties were crotchless.

You were going to fuck yourself with a dildo on camera wearing his colour.

Fuck, he was so in love with you.

And he was so incredibly hard for you.

You lubed up the dildo and hovered over it, ready to sink down, when you stopped and looked up at the camera.

It felt like time had stopped for Oscar, he felt like you were staring straight into his soul as you uttered your next words.

“By the way Osc, I had this dildo modeled after your cock, so that I could fuck you even when you're not here”

And with that you sank down, and Oscar felt the air being sucked from his lungs, as if he were there and you were actually sinking down on him.

You moaned so loud it echoed against the tiled walls of the small bathroom and Oscar had to check the sound level on his phone.

You lifted your hips and dropped back down, a guttural sound escaping you as you threw your head back and kept moving your hips up and down.

Oscar spat into his hand and started jerking himself off furiously, eyes glued to where your cunt was split around the silicone.

“Oscar… you feel so fucking good. I love your cock so much.”

Oscar could tell you were close by the way your thighs trembled and your breathing got shallower.

“Fuck Osc, I'm not gonna last long…”

“Me neither, baby” he whispered “touch yourself for me, make yourself come on my cock”

You obviously couldn't hear him, but as if you'd read his mind your fingers went down your body and started vigorously rubbing your clit, letting out little cut off moans on every roll of your hips .

“Oscar!” you came with a cry of his name and that sent him over the edge as he did his best to aim into the toilet bowl, but he came so hard he actually crumpled and had to hold himself up to not fall on the floor.

The video ended and put itself back to the beginning.

He scrambled to turn it off as his post nut clarity hit and he realised where he was and how loud he'd probably been.

And because the universe was a bitch, a sudden knock rang against the door and Lando's voice pierced right through Oscar's inner peace.

“Mate, I know you miss your girlfriend but I really didn't deserve to hear that”

“Piss off” Oscar groaned and Lando cackled before sauntering off, laughter echoing through the corridor.

Oscar looked at his phone and noticed that you'd just sent him another text.

“did you enjoy my gift? ;) ”

It was out of the question to let you know exactly how much it had affected him so he took a deep steadying breath and typed out a short response.

“I can't believe you made a sextape… Without me :( “

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 7

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Also Retconning from Nesta's Spring Birthday to like late November, just because otherwise my plot doesn't work.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Sky had kinda waited for the two of them to have screeching arguments…as soon as the happy bubble of a new mating bond fell away. 

But…nothing of that sort had happened.

“Let’s just keep it just for us for a little while,” he had whispered and she had agreed, curled up in his arms. Just them.

Just for a little while. Nobody else’s opinion did really matter after all. And she knew that there would be numerous opinion be had about the fact that hse had met her mate and then moved in with him in the span of less than a day…and that the two of them were utterly and deliriously happy since then. 

Just the two of them - at least for a little while longer. Sky knew that they would have to tell their friends and family eventually, that they couldn't stay in their little bubble forever, but she was in no rush. The world could wait. For now, she was perfectly content to just be with Azriel.

And they didn’t fight. About anything. 

It was...weird. 

She was waiting for arguments. She was waiting for screaming and to be told that she wasn’t enough…for him to finally realie that he had made a grave mistake…but nothing happened. 

He didn’t care that she stuffed all his bookcases with her books…or rather that his shadows did, painstakingly replicating the order she had had in her little apartment. 

Azriel even made nice with Hector and bought him tuna, jut for her sake…

She had caught Azriel and Hector curled up on the couch together last week - Azriel reading a book and Hector sprawled on his lap. She'd stared at them for a long moment. He had let Hector drool all over his shirt. Azriel had looked up at her with a sheepish grin when he noticed her staring. "He's very cuddly," he'd said, as if that was all the explanation that was needed.

Sky had just laughed, shaking her head as she made her way over to them, sitting down next to Azriel. She had rested her head on his shoulder, reaching out to pet the cat. Hector purred loudly in approval, nudging his head against Sky's hand, and she couldn't help but smile.

Azriel kept odd hours for his work, sometimes disappearing in the middle of the night or coming home then too…but Sky did too, so it didn’t bother her.

He always made time for her - making them breakfast or bringing her coffee or leaving little notes for her. 

And she horded it all away like a dragon did with it’s hoard, wanting to enjoy that just a little while longer. 

Sky made sure to do the same for him. She knew he never slept much, so she always left a cup of tea by his bed if he was late in returning, and always left some food for him… She found him a new salve for the scars on his hand, massaging it in with all the patience in the world when he admitted to her that the muscles and joints hurt as it got colder… She bought him sweets from the same little shop in the Rainbow she got her own stash of caramel candies from… She wanted to take care of him, even if she knew Azriel would never ask for it.

She loved the way he held her, as if he would never let her go. She loved the way he whispered her name as he kissed down her body, and the way he held her once they were finished, his wings wrapping around them and cocooning her in warmth. Sky had never imagined that she could be loved like this, but Azriel made her feel like she was the most precious thing in the world.

And if Azriel wasn’t there…the shadows were.

They had become her constant companions - sliding beneath doors and around walls and windows, following her through the house. At first, the shadows had been startling, but she had quickly grown used to them - they seemed to relish draping themselves over her, wrapping around her wrists, her ankles, her shoulders. The shadows would stroke at her face and whisper her name, and Sky had taken to speaking to them as well, asking them about Azriel or if they could bring her things or fetch Hector.

It was...nice not being alone anymore. Sky had never realized how lonely she had been in her little apartment, but now that she had the shadows - and Azriel - she didn’t want to go back. She loved the way the shadows seemed to watch over her, always present even if Azriel was not. And in their own way, the shadows cared for her too, always there to provide a steadying or comforting presence - or to bring her a cup of tea, or fetch her a book she needed for research...

And besides, the shadows were much better at moving furniture than Sky was. She had quickly learned that if she needed something rearranged or moved and Azriel was not around to do it, the shadows were more than happy to help.

But most of all, the shadows had come to represent Azriel to her - they were always with her, always watching over her, and she knew that even if Azriel could not be there, the shadows would always look out for her. They would keep her safe. 

It was a strange and unexpected sense of comfort, but Sky had come to cherish it. She never felt truly alone anymore, not with the shadows constantly at her back, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

And if Azriel was there…well.

The sex was better than anything she had ever imagined.

Sometimes she woke up to him between her thighs, right in the middle of throes of her pleasure, her whole body still heavy with sleep and drenched with wetness. 

He made her feel wanted, desired in a way that she had never experienced before. He never tired of her, always wanting to be close her, and she never tired of him. Every touch felt like a new discovery, and Sky was learning Azriel’s body like she had never learned anything else in her life, learning what made him moan and tremble and beg for more. She loved the way he touched her, the way he kissed her, and the way he whispered her name as he moved inside her.

But it wasn't just about the physical pleasure.

After sex…when it was just the two of them curled up in their bed, his wings wrapped around her, his head bedded on body more often than not…they talked. A truth for a truth.

She learned more about him. About his horrible sweet tooth. About the scars that covered his hands…she had traced them one evening and he had looked at her…looked at her in wonder.

He opened up to her about so many things, telling her stories from his childhood, about the horrors of the war, and about his family. Sky listened to all of it, her heart breaking for all the pain and suffering he had endured, and vowing to spend the rest of her life making him happy. And in turn, she shared her own stories with him, telling him things she had never told anyone else. It felt...good to let go of all the secrets and burdens she had carried for so long, and to know that Azriel was there to listen and to understand.

He never once cared about her stuttering. Never once rushed her.

Though she could feel… she felt so safe with him…that the stutter eased. Still there but sometimes she could go whole sentences without stuttering once..

Azriel was always patient with her, letting her take her time when she needed it, and never making her feel rushed. And to her surprise, her stutter had eased, bit by bit.

It was a strange feeling, not having to struggle through every word, to speak without fear of being judged or laughed at. And Azriel never drew attention to it, never made her feel as if she was something to be pitied or fixed. He just accepted her for who she was - stutter and all.

Sky was…so very grateful for that. She could trust Azriel with her deepest fears and insecurities, and he would always be there for her, supporting her and encouraging her. And in turn, she would do the same for him.

Being with him was so easy.

So easy, and so natural. It felt like they had been together for years, not just weeks. She couldn't imagine her life without Azriel, and she never wanted to. He made her laugh, and he made her feel loved and he wanted her.

That was probably the most startling thing.  

Sky was working on her desk, that overlooked the lake, while Azriel preferred to work upstairs in his office, and a cup of tea was gently put down next to her, a kiss pressed against the crown of her head. She couldn’t help but lean back into him with a happy sigh, tipping up her head, turning towards Azriel and letting him kiss her properly.

“Sky?” He asked softly as she leaned into the touch of the hand on her shoulder.

She hummed in answer.

“Isn’t one of your books coming out soon?” Azriel asked her softly.

“In three weeks, just in time for winter solstice shopping,” Sky answered absentmindedly. “Why?”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, his hand still resting on her shoulder. "How high are the chances that I could…have an early copy?" Azriel asked, sounding nearly hesitant.

Sky turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. "You want an early copy of my book?" she asked, curious. Azriel's nod was immediate. A slow smile spread across Sky's face. "You want to read it?” she asked him hesitantly. He wanted to read her book? 

“I do want to read it. And I also have a friend who adores your books and her birthday is coming up…” Azriel said softly. “She’s important to me. Like a little sister. Her name is Nesta. And I think she may be your biggest fan.”

Sky blinked in surprise, touched by Azriel's words. She knew how much Azriel cared about his family, and to hear him describe Nesta as a little sister was...well, it was sweet. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride knowing that her books had made such an impression on someone so important to him.

She opened the drawer of her desk and pulled out one of the dozen or so she had stashed in there. At his surprised look she just shrugged. “I always get a few from the first print run,” she said drily.

Azriel took the book from her hands, his gaze softening as he looked down at the cover. "Thank you," he said quietly, his fingers tracing over the embossed title of the book. "I know she'll love it."

“Just tell her to please not let the newspaper get their hands on it,” Sky said drily, making him laugh. 

“She’ll protect this book fiercely,” he told her sagely. “Would you…sign it?” Azriel asked her. 

Sky hesitated. She had never once signed any of her books. Had never written the name Sellyn Drake as an autograph. 

But for Azriel...she could do it. For Nesta. 

So she took the book back, dipped her quill in her ink, flicking it off twice, and then wrote a short message to Nesta - wishing her a happy birthday and hoping that she enjoyed the book. 

Sky signed Sellyn Drake at the bottom, the movement feeling surprisingly natural… and felt strangely vulnerable as she handed the book back to Azriel.

Azriel looked down at the inscription, reading it over carefully before looking back at Sky. "Thank you," he said again, his voice soft and tender. "This means a lot to me, and to her."

Sky felt a warm glow settle over her, and she knew in that moment that she would do anything for Azriel. Anything to make him happy.

“You are very welcome,” she said simply.

He leaned down and kissed her, and Sky melted into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Azriel's neck and pulling him closer. For a moment, the world outside their little bubble of happiness seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them.

***

“It seems like we need to come to some sort of agreement,” Azriel said tightly.

Hector the cat was staring at him with one eye and doing his best to intimidate him into life-long obedience, from where he was sitting in front of Azriel, who was sitting on the couch. 

"I am not going to stop sleeping in Sky's bed," he told the cat, crossing his arms. "I am not going to stop cuddling with her." Hector hissed at him in response, clearly not a fan of the fact that Azriel was going to stick around. 

It was a potential problem. Azriel glared at the ugly cat.

If it even was a cat. Sometimes he wasn't quite sure. Maybe it was a stunted Mountain Lion. It was quite big for a normal cat. And uglier than that.

"You know, I am not above pretending to be allergic to you," he told the cat drily. Especially if Hector kept scratching him.

Hector shot him a disdainful look, clearly not worried. And then swiped out a paw to smack at Azriel's naked feet, claws carefully withdrawn. 

Azriel scowled down at the cat. "You're lucky Sky loves you so much," he muttered, glaring at Hector.

"We can agree to get along. I'll buy you that ridiculous expensive Tuna you like and you can come join us when we cuddle on the couch. Or we can draw a line in the sand and see who comes out on top." Azriel raised an eyebrow.

Drily he reflected that this was how far he had come. Trying to bargain with the ugliest cat he had ever seen.

Hector stared back at him for a moment, before finally letting out a "Meow" as if to say, "Fine, fine, you can stay - for now." 

Azriel let out a sigh of relief, glad that the cat had finally agreed to some sort of truce. And he knew that Sky would be happy too - she loved that mangly cat more than anything. So he would put up with Hector - for Sky's sake.

Hector smacked him on the arm and crawled into his lap.

Azriel hesitantly petted his head. “You do realize you weigh a ton, right?” he told the cat drily.

Sky had told him that he had been all skin and bones when she had found him. Yeah, that was definitely no longer true.

Hector rolled over on his back, demanding belly rubs.

Azriel sighed, shaking his head as he reluctantly obliged, rubbing Hector's belly, where the cat’s fur was patchy. 

 Azriel couldn't deny that the cat was oddly endearing, even if he would never admit it out loud. And as Hector purred contentedly in his lap, Azriel couldn't help but smile.

Maybe he could put up with this cat after all. For Sky's sake, of course.

Just for Sky. 

Just for Sky's sake, he bought the cat ridiculous expensive treats, a scratching post and toys.

And he found that, as the weeks went on, he didn't mind as much when Hector would jump into bed with them in the middle of the night, curling up next to Sky. Or when he would bat at Azriel's toes while he read.

Nobody ever needed to know when he asked Gwyn to help him find some books about cats and their proper nourishment and exercise.

"Thank you," he thanked the red headed priestess when she handed him a whole stack of them at the end of their next private dagger lesson.

"No, thank you.  Finally I can pay you back for all the dagger lessons," Gwyn said with a bright grin. "Are you...Are you thinking about adopting a cat?" she asked him curiously.

"No. A friend did," he answered truthfully.

"Making nice with it then?" Gwyn asked him and he sighed.

"I am pretty sure the cat plots my murder on a daily basis," he answered only half joking.

Gwyn laughed, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Have you tried giving it treats?" Gwyn suggested helpfully.

Azriel opened his mouth to respond but at that moment, Rhys landed just a few feet away. Probably training with Cassian early in the morning, before they did their usual training with the priestesses and Valkyries.

"I even bought him ridiculously overpriced, fresh tuna," he admitted drily, making her laugh.

"Good luck with your bribes," Gwyn said with another laugh. "See you later, shadowsinger," she said with a wave over her shoulder. Azriel looked after her for a moment and then passed over to one of the weapon racks, starting his usual inspection.

"Dagger Lessons?" Rhys asked him, as he crossed over to him. 

"Yes," Azriel agreed. He could hear the inflection in Rhys' voice, a lilting question. He didn't even want to know what Rhys was thinking.

"Just With Gwyn?" Rhys asked, tone still carefully neutral.

Azriel sighed, turning to face his friend. "Yes, just with Gwyn," he confirmed. Azriel kept his tone neutral, almost indifferent.

Azriel went back to his dagger inspection, keeping his mind focused on the task at hand.

He could feel Rhys's eyes on him, but he didn't waver. He knew his brother well enough to know that Rhys was trying to get a reaction out of him. And je wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Azriel didn't need to wait long. He could feel the talons of Rhys' daemati powers scratch against his mental shields just moments later. He let him in with a sigh. Was he officially going to get warned off Gwyn as well? 

Apparently Azriel was.

*If you want more from her, don't you dare pressuring her,* Rhys snapped into his mind.

Azriel nearly started to bristle. He wondered if Rhys even thought about how much of an insult it was. Ever thought of what it meant that he thought that Azriel would pressure Gwyn in anything she didn’t want. 

But he just answered flatly. *Then it will calm you to know that I couldn't possibly be less interested in Gwyn romantically.*

Maybe in another life. But not in this one.

*So what, you'll keep yearning after Elain?* Rhys asked him sharply.

Azriel looked up from the daggers, fixing Rhys with a glare.

*I behave. That's what you want. What I do or don't feel outside of that is none of your business,* Azriel gave back.

He was sick of this. Sick of Rhys treating him like he was some kind of reckless child who couldn't be trusted to make his own decisions. 

*I'll behave. As I always do.* He repeated that with more force, his glare hardening.

And as a side note, I am perfectly capable of handling my own feelings, Rhys. I don't need your interference.

The words hung in the air between them, sharp and pointed.

Azriel held Rhys's gaze for a beat longer, then turned back to the daggers. But he could feel the tension between them, the unspoken words that still hovered in the air.

He was so fucking done with Rhys’ meddling. Or with his brother not trusting him to handle his own feelings like an adult. 

*Oh really?* Rhys crossed his arms, wings spreading wide at his back. *How long have you been pining after Elain, knowing damn well that it would only bring you misery?*

It was a punch beneath what was appropriate. Both knew it.

But AZriel couldn't even fucking care at that moment.

He slammed down the mental walls, forcing Rhys out of his mind immediately.

Quite frankly, he hadn't thought about Elain once after Sky and him had accepted the mating bond. He hadn't fucking cared anymore.

 Elain could do whatever she wanted. So could Mor.  Azriel was kinda busy with doting on his mate.

Sky mattered. 

Sky actually wanted him around. Sky liked him enough to let him share her bed and curl around her and had not once flinched away from his shadows. 

Rhys could say and do whatever he wanted but he was not getting near Sky. 

"Good Morning!" At least Cassian was in a good mood.

Azriel barely acknowledged Cassian's cheerful greeting, his mind still reeling from his confrontation with Rhys. He wasn't in the mood to banter or make small talk. But Cassian, being Cassian, didn't seem to pick up on the tension in the air.

He plopped down on the ground beside Azriel, stretching out his wings lazily.

"What's got you brooding?" Cassian asked, eyeing Azriel curiously.

"Still figuring out Nesta's birthday gift," he said drily. It wasn't even a lie.

Cassian sighed.  "Good luck with that, brother. Nes can be quite the challenge to please," he said with a groan. "I still have no idea what to get her and I am her mate. I thought I would get her a new book but the only one she is interested in at the moment is the next Sellyn Drake book and that's not out for 3 weeks," Cassian complained.

Huh.

It seemed like Cassian may have just solved Azriel’s own gift debacle.

How high were the chances that he could talk Sky into giving him an early peek at her newest book?

Apparently it was as simple as asking. She gave it to him without hesitation, with a smile and he loved her just a little bit more just for that.

And he did love her. So fucking much.

It was so easy to be with her. So easy.

Azriel had never felt like this with anyone before. It was effortless to be with her, to be himself around her. She never expected anything from him, never pushed him to be someone he wasn't. She saw him for who he was, and accepted him completely.

She even accepted the shadows.

Azriel knew that the shadows were a part of him, and he had always been conscious of the way they might make people uncomfortable. But with Sky, it was different. She didn't shy away from them or make him feel like he needed to hide them from her. She even seemed to find a certain beauty in them.

She never flinched away, even when the shadows whispered against her skin...even when they touched her.

It was as if, for the first time, the shadows were not something to be feared or loathed. They were simply just a part of him, and she accepted them as such. She never asked him to change or try to control them, and it was a freedom he had never experienced before.

And quite frankly...he would rather stay with her, in their house and let himself be bullied by her cat that to sit through another family dinner.

But he did it. Just for Nesta. It was her birthday after all.

It wasn't going to be that bad. Probably.

He would just remind himself of who was waiting for him at home. That made it easy. 

And it wasn't even that bad. It could be worse.

Rhys even left him alone, mostly because Azriel did his best to stay away from Mor and Elain and Gwyn and Rhys himself for good measure, which left him with the conversation partners of Amren and Varian...and then he just needed to stay silent and let his mind wander to the feeling of Sky's hands when she scratched his scalp...the way she snuggled up to him in her sleep...to the freckles that covered her face...Azriel let his mind drift to thoughts of Sky as he sat at dinner, choosing to ignore the others' conversation. 

He knew that Rhys was probably watching him with a smug look on his face, probably thinking that Azriel was thinking of Elain instead. But Azriel didn't care. He was content in his thoughts of Sky.

Finally, they were handing gifts to Nesta, which meant that the evening was coming to an end.

Thank the cauldron for that. 

Azriel watched as Nesta unwrapped gifts from the others: jewelry from Amren, a painting of Velaris from Feyre…

“Happy Birthday,” Azriel told her softly as he handed her his gift.

“Thank you,” Nesta told him graciously, smiling at him. “Oh, chocolate!” He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm at the bag of chocolate candies that was tied to her gift with ribbon. 

Azriel smiled, watching as Nesta excitedly tore open the bag of chocolate candies that he had bought her…Sky and him had taken an ambling walk through Velaris one afternoon, ending near the rainbow in a tiny candy shop where his mate procured her caramel candies from and he had picked them up for Nesta. 

Well, that and a few different ones to try for him and Sky.

He was just glad that Nesta seemed to like it. And then Nesta unwrapped the book.

“Cassian said you were very excited to finally read it,” he told her drily. Nesta flipped it over, eyes devouring the title.

“HOW?!” She demanded, her voice half a screech. A far cry from how composed and quiet she usually was. “How did you get it?!?” And then she was already moving to hug him fiercely, pressing a kiss against his cheek. Azriel chuckled, giving her a quick hug back. He was glad that she seemed to like his gift so much.

"Cassian let it slip that you were interested in the new Sellyn Drake book, so I thought I'd pull some strings and get you an early copy," he explained. "Happy Birthday, Nesta."

“What kind of fucking strings did you pull?!” Cassian complained pouting. “I went to every bookstore in Velaris and none could get it to me earlier than in three weeks.” 

Azriel couldn’t help but smirk at Cassian's complaint. "You know me, Cassian. I have my ways," he drawled. "Maybe you just need to expand your network."

“You had the shadows steal it, didn’t you?” Cassian asked him with a glare. Azriel couldn’t help but snort.

“No, I asked Sellyn Drake to give it to me and she did,” he said drily. “Though I'm sure Nesta couldn't care less how I got the book, as long as she gets to read it."

“Oh, I do care.” Nesta assured him immediately. “You asked Sellyn Drake? Nobody knows who she is! You know her? How? When? Why?”

Azriel chuckled, amused by Nesta's rapid-fire questions. "Yes, I know Sellyn Drake. I asked her for a favor, and she obliged. Simple as that. As for the why, well, I knew how badly you wanted to read her new novel, so I thought it would be a nice surprise for your birthday,” he told her easily, smiling softly at Azriel. 

Cassian still looked suspicious, eyeing Azriel with a critical eye. "You asked the author herself to give you an early copy of her book? Just like that?" he asked skeptically.

“Just like that,” Azriel said calmly.

“So she actually exists?” Gwynn asked him curiously, everybody turned to stare at her. “What?! You know I had my theory!”

“Gwyn’s theory is that Sellyn Drake isn’t one single person, but instead a whole group of incredible talented authors,” Nesta said with a grin.

"Oh, she definitely exists. I can vouch for that. She’s very sweet,” Azriel told Nesta simply, who opened her book, hungrily opening the front pages…

“…this is signed,” Nesta breathed. “Sellyn Drake knows my name.” 

He was pretty sure that he had heard religious people sound less worshipping than Nesta did at that moment. 

For just a moment he wanted to think about how it would be for Nesta and Sky to meet, but he forced himself not to. Not where Rhys could snap that up. 

“What?! No way!” Emerie exclaimed, clambering to take a look at the book. “Cauldron boil me.” She breathed.

“There isn’t a single signed Sellyn Drake book!” Gwyn exclaimed. 

Azriel couldn't help but chuckle at the others’ reactions. "Well, I guess that makes this a pretty special gift then," he said simply, sipping his wine with a satisfied smile.

“Very special,” Nesta told him softly, looking at him wideyed. “This is…This is incredible, Az.” 

Azriel merely inclined his head, accepting the comment. “I’m glad "It's not often that I can surprise someone who's as hard to impress as you are."

Nesta gave him a playful swat on the arm. "You know I'm not that hard to please," she told him. "You just have to know me well enough to know what I want. And apparently you do. Thank you.”

[00-jammy-00]

Hii! May I pretty please with cherry on top get a yan! CEO with a darling who is on hunger strike? (Bacically refuses to eat unless freed)

Yan!CEO [Reader on hunger strike scenario]

Yan!CEO x GN! Reader

Content warning -Yandere themes, mentioned kidnapping, manipulative yan, sickeningly sweet yan, obsession, force feeding

A/N - This is the first of my little 1k follower celebration. If you have a request you want done, send through an ask <3

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Adrian sighed for what felt like the thousandth time since you had been in his loving care. He loved you, of course he did, but for fucks sake, a hunger strike?! It wasn’t like he was some evil madman! He narrowed his eyes, looking down at your form with pure irritation before letting out another sigh.

“[Reader], dear, why are you still fighting this? I love you so why must you do this to me?” He grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose as he gazed upon the now cold plate of food in front of you. When his words were only met by a cold glare, Adrian groaned. “And now the silent treatment? Darling—“ He spoke in an exasperated tone, already beginning to get whiny. “You can’t be serious. Technically I ‘kidnapped you’ big deal! You were getting harassed by that drunk, what was I meant to do? Just sit by and watch?!” He huffed, flopping down onto a seat across from the bed you were sat on.

He met your glare with his own, his mind conjuring up hundreds of ways he could destroy your spirit but he pushed them to the side. “Come on honey. You know I love you.” He cooed, moving to sit next to you and wrap a sly arm around your shoulders. “I didn’t want to take you. I really didn’t.” That was a complete lie. He was practically jumping up and down when he had you in his car. “I just wanted to protect you.”

Adrian grabbed the fork off of your plate and brought it to your mouth. “Now be good and eat before I force this down your throat.” He let out a dry chuckle but you knew damn well he didn’t find this situation funny. He squeezed your cheeks harshly until your lips parted before shoving the fork into your mouth. “Ah! Look how cute you are! So good for me.” He practically purred, rubbing his cheek against yours affectionately.

You were idiotic if you ever thought a hunger strike would work with Adrian. He may be whiny and annoying but he’d always get what he wanted and he hated when you acted out like this.

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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3

please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

[sungbeam]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞

dragon shifter!park seonghwa x f!reader

just because you're both dragon shifters doesn't mean this courtship thing is easy.

▷ 6.1k words, pg-13, f2l, dragon shifters au, urban fantasy, swearing, mentions of a big roach/insect, shoulder kiss, seonghwa goes shirtless once (1), mentions of courtship/mating traditions, the boys are implicit in shenanigans ofc, love in the form of jewelry, very mild jealousy, pining

a/n: this au idea was like ,,, 3 months in the making but i reopened the draft yesterday cuz i was tired of rotting 😭 anyways... i think shy, romantic seonghwa is cute ! (also very much hoping this isn't too boring jsfnkdnf)

Park Seonghwa was pretty sure he fell in love with you the day you met. 

It wasn't something he openly admitted to, especially since his attraction had come first when he saw you across the dormitory common room, and was struck dumb by the curve of your smile and the way the sunlight hit your irises to make them glint like jewels. While it was stereotypical to think that dragons only cared about appearances, it didn't come from nothing. It was part of the reason why Seonghwa didn't like saying it was love at first sight; it technically wasn't, by all definitions. He just thought you were beautiful. 

It wasn't until he finally worked up the courage (thanks to his best friend Hongjoong's encouragement (shoving)) to introduce himself to you that he realized what you were—a dragon shifter, just like him. It was no wonder he felt a pull toward you; dragon shifters were a dime a dozen, especially in the city where you both attended university. He told himself his fast friendship and bonding with you came from his excitement of being the same species, as well as learning each other's cultures and traditions, as you came from different clans. 

Though, that didn't account for the amount of times he daydreamed about adorning you in his family's jewels, as it was customary in courtship traditions to wear one's mate's gems. Neither did it account for the way his heart beat faster whenever you were around, the purring from his chest after that one time you fell asleep on his shoulder… It was complicated. 

“Everyone, let's load up the cars! Quick—off your asses. Let's move, people!” Hongjoong hollered like a drill sergeant, his hands cupped around his mouth before clapping too loud for six in the morning on a Saturday. 

Who in their right mind would be crazy enough to wake up so early on the Saturday of their last spring break? Only one demon in particular, and his name was Kim Hongjoong. 

Seonghwa was still half asleep, his eyelids droopy and his limbs even droopier. He nearly flopped face-first onto the pavement outside the apartment complex. He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and slumped over to the passenger side of the SUV. It had taken all of his willpower to not trudge out in his Lego Movie pajama set.

“—and for goddess's sake, where is Yn?”

He jolted upright. “Yn?” He blubbered, head going on a swivel. 

Hongjoong peered at him weirdly with his hands on his hips, and Wooyoung snorted, then scurried past to avoid Seonghwa's scowl. “Yes, Yn,” Hongjoong said. “Are you awake, Hwa? We literally talked about Yn coming on the trip with us last night.”

Oh. Right. 

Seonghwa blinked his bleary eyes open and nodded sheepishly. Thank goodness he wasn't in his Lego Movie pajamas. “Y-yep, of course I remember!” 

He glanced away, nostrils flaring as he caught onto a familiar scent coming down the street. He could pick out the smell of apple blossoms, tangerines, and your particular musk from a mile away if he was more awake.

“Sorry, I'm late!” Then there came the voice. Your voice simultaneously jump-started his heart and made his heart swoon. If he was about to faint, it probably wasn't going to be from sleep deprivation. 

He couldn't believe he nearly forgot you were coming to the lake with them. 

Your form came into view, your hair a windswept mess and a sheepish sort of smile on your face as you wrestled with the duffle on one shoulder, your backpack on the other, and a paper grocery bag. 

Seonghwa practically fell over himself in order to drop his own bag on the sidewalk and rush over to you. “Here, I got it,” he murmured, taking the grocery bag and duffle bag away from you so he could hold them. 

Your smile widened at him, and he swore the soft morning light was purposefully making your eyes glow right now. “Thanks, Hwa. Very sweet of you.”

“Of course,” he said with a humble nod, pointedly ignoring all of the looks he was getting from his friends. 

“You're just on time,” Hongjoong greeted you with a small smile. “How were exams for you?”

You brushed a hand through your hair, a tired laugh falling from your lips. “They were… alright,” you opted to say. “Glad they're over now, and I'm so ready for this trip.” You gestured to the grocery bag Seonghwa held. “Oh! I brought snacks, by the way.”

Mingi stuck his entire upper body out of the passenger seat of Yunho's sedan. “Yn-ah! You're riding in our car, right?” 

Seonghwa's expression molded into something sour. “Where did you get that idea from?”

“Mingi, you should just give up now,” San chuckled. He sent a wink over to Seonghwa, then glanced back at the naiad who's head Seonghwa was currently trying to glare a hole through. “We’ve already claimed Yn for our car.”

You looked on in confused amusement. “I'll split the snacks between the cars, guys. And plus, the SUV will have more room than the sedan.”

“Exactly,” Seonghwa piped up. He marched over to the back doors of the SUV to safely deposit your things within. There was no need for you to be squished between Yeosang and Jongho in Yunho's comically tiny car, when you could be in the same car as him—no, wait. That wasn't what he meant—

“Well, this is just favoritism,” Yunho jested as he slammed his trunk shut. He shot you a sunny grin that made Seonghwa glance over at you for your reaction. Yunho's being half-siren always made his voice and gestures a little more silken and sweet than the rest of them. “Are you sure it's 'cause of the extra room and not because Wooyoung's cat is gonna be in that car?”

You chuckled, shrugging. As if on cue, a lithe feline in silky black fur trotted out from the bushes. She strutted over to you, purring as she wrapped her tail around your calf. “Okay, maybe you caught me,” you said, crouching down to pet Wooyoung's cat familiar. 

Seonghwa was not going to be jealous over a cat. He was absolutely not. Some sleep would screw his head on straight—yes, sleep did sound nice. He didn't know what was up with himself this morning. 

“Pretty sure she loves you more than she loves me,” Wooyoung pouted as he stuck his head out of the SUV's back window. 

You picked the feline up with your hands, and she gave a crooning meow as you held her up to her witch through the window. “I wouldn't mind adopting her if she wasn't permanently bound to you.”

Seonghwa's eye twitched at the same time he and Hongjoong made eye contact. 

The demon's mouth curled into a knowing, teasing smile—I see you. Seonghwa could feel the heat lift to the surface of his skin as he ducked into the car. He really needed a nap.  

The remainder of the time was used swiftly as everyone finished packing things into your respective cars, including your bodies. About an hour later, you were well on your way out of the city. 

As this was all nine of yours last year of university, this spring break needed to be a memorable one. Yeosang had heard talk through the grapevine of a collection of interlinking caves overlooking a small lake. It was located a few hours out of the city proper, but it would pose as a peaceful getaway for the week. Each of the small caverns were open facing, peering over the water's surface, and each was designed to be like rooms in a house. There would be enough for the boys to sleep two to a bed, with you getting your own. 

The drive out of the city was an easy one. Seonghwa slept nearly the entire time, only waking up to a near-quiet car, save for Hongjoong's choice of music playing softly from the radio. 

“'Morning,” Hongjoong murmured, taking his eyes off the road for a brief moment. 

Seonghwa yawned and turned his eyes up and outward at the world around him. Concrete jungle had become emerald green trees speared with beams of buttery sunshine. He bet it smelled glorious. “Morning,” he said back quietly. “Are they still…” 

His voice trailed off as he twisted around in his seat and took in the middle row behind him. You, San, and Wooyoung were squished arm to arm, thigh to thigh; Wooyoung's black cat familiar laid fast asleep in Wooyoung's lap, with Wooyoung's head against San, San's head against you, and your head against the car window. Seonghwa cooed to himself at the sight, carefully snapping a picture with his phone, before returning to face the front. 

The remainder of the drive was swift, and as you approached the site of your home for the next several days, you all slowly began to wake up. Seonghwa rolled his window down and braced his arm over the open sill, a smile breaking onto his lips as he greedily inhaled the clean, crisp air. 

His eyes flickered to the side mirror, locking gazes with you. For a moment, he held your eye contact. He watched your mouth curve into that pretty smile of yours that made his insides flutter, before you looked out at the forest again. 

When Hongjoong's and Yunho's cars broke out of the trees and into the next clearing, everyone's breaths stole away. 

“No way we scored this good,” San whispered in giddy excitement as he shoved his body between Hongjoong and Seonghwa to peer out the front windshield. 

Before you stood a wide lake, its waters so clear that one could see straight to the bottom. The caverns that you would all bunker up in were on the far shore, stacked atop one another in two layers with four openings on the bottom and three on the top. A waterfall curtained off two of the cavern rooms as it flowed from the rocky outcropping that loomed over the lake, and into the lake itself; the sound was not thunderous, but a dull sort of roar that was almost muffled. 

With the sun rising higher into the sky, its beams reflected off the cascading spray of water to create a small rainbow in the mist. Suffice to say, the view in front of you deserved its own magazine. 

“Let's get our spring break on!” Wooyoung hooted as Hongjoong pulled the car around the shore of the lake to reach the base of the caverns. 

As the day sank from late morning to early afternoon, you and your friends transferred all of your belongings from the cars and into the caverns. Rooms were decided by an efficient round of Rock Paper Scissors—you luckily scored first, and chose the most private room behind the waterfall for yourself. 

Once everyone was settled, it became a race of who could get into the water—

“WAAAAHOOOO!” SPLASH!

—first. 

Seonghwa peered out from the living room cavern on the second floor to see the bodies below take a running start into the lake. He chuckled to himself, leaning his hip against the wall with a can of soda in his hand as he watched his friends break the surface of the lake, one by one. 

“You're not swimming?”

Seonghwa nearly fell forward and out of the open cave, down into the water. His hand slapped against the wall to catch himself, his heart practically tumbling out of his chest anyway. 

To your credit, you looked apologetic, grimacing through a smile as you came to stand next to him. “Sorry. You didn't hear me come in?” 

You had changed out of your T-shirt and shorts from earlier into a cropped tank top and loose skirt, a silver waist chain winking up at him from where it linked around your belly. 

The thought shoved itself into his brain—that you would look terribly divine in his jewelry.

He swallowed, dragging his eyes up back to yours. “I didn't,” he admitted sheepishly. “Guess I was too focused on watching everyone else. Have you settled in alright?”

You had chosen the cavern bedroom right next to the living room, but it was the only bedroom on this level. 

With a nod, you turned your gaze outward at the ocean of emerald green trees surrounding this little oasis. “I have,” you said pleasantly. “You?”

“Same here.” He carded a hand through his hair. “It's really quite beautiful here.” But not as beautiful as you. 

You glanced over at him again, and he wondered if he could concoct enough things to say to keep your attention on him. “Oh, I definitely agree; it's a perfect paradise, really. The waterfall” — you inclined your chin to your left — “I think it'll be most beautiful at sunset.”

He lifted one of his brows and pushed off the cavern wall. “Oh? Why do you think so?”

“If the sunset faces us,” you explained, gesturing your hand out to the eastern horizon in the distance, “then it'll reflect its light against the waterfall. As the sun sinks down and lights the sky on fire, so too will it set the water aflame.”

Seonghwa could envision your words in his mind's eye as he took in the waterfall careening into the lake below. Its crystal blue waters were so clear that it undoubtedly would reflect the shades of the sunset, and become illuminated as you said—where water turned to flame. 

A soft smile came to his face. What a gorgeous image. 

“I bet it'd look incredible from the skies.” Your words drew him back to your face. You were already looking over at him, and his heart gave a loving lurch. 

Seonghwa cleared his throat. “I agree. Have you been able to stretch your wings recently?”

You hummed, tilting your head from side to side. “Not super recently because I was locked inside to study for the last week or two. You?”

“Same,” he chuckled and reached behind his back to scratch at the nape of his neck. Usually, he tried to shift into dragon form at least twice a week to keep his wings strong, but when life got busy, it was difficult to find enough time to take to the skies. “Would—would you like to take a flight with me sometime?” He stammered, fumbling over his words. “Just, y'know, like a casual thing.”

Excellent, Hwa. The spitting image of confidence. 

He sipped on his soda, already hearing Hongjoong's exasperated sigh in his ear. 

Your smile softened at the corners. “I'd love to. After dinner, maybe?”

His shoulders loosened in relief. “Sounds like a plan.”

“This is your chance! It's a sign!” 

Seonghwa frowned at his reflection in the vanity mirror as he played around with his dark curls. Tied up? Kept down? It really didn't matter; he was literally going to be a dragon for the majority of the time, but it never hurt to appear well-groomed before a potential… ahem, friend. A friend. 

Hongjoong slumped down on the foot of their shared bed, a deadpan on his face when Seonghwa continued to ignore him. “Park Seonghwa, so help me, I will plant one of your anklets in her jewelry box—”

“And if you do that,” Seonghwa drawled as he gave up on his hair and reached for the tube of lip gloss on the vanity top, “I will tell that elven girl you've become so fond of about how you—”

“Okay, I got it,” Hongjoong cut in with a scowl. “Aish, so touchy. I'm just saying that this trip is the perfect opportunity to let her know how you feel, and to court her.”

Seonghwa knew that; of course, he fucking knew that. The thing was that if anything went poorly, you would practically be stuck here with him until the end of the trip. He cringed to himself at the mere awkwardness of that potential outcome. “It's just a wing stretch,” he reasoned aloud to himself. He grabbed one of the bottles of cologne on the table to spritz around his scent glands. “It's not like I'm going to offer her a necklace.”

“Yes, because you need to smell nice for a wing stretch.” Hongjoong fell back onto the bed with a grumble under his breath at Seonghwa's stubbornness. 

Dinner had finished up about fifteen minutes ago, and while everyone departed to do their own activities, you and Seonghwa agreed to reconvene at the tops of the caves in five minutes for your planned flight together. The days were growing longer as spring waltzed toward summer, and thus, the sun reigned the skies for a lengthier period of time. The two of you would ideally circle back in time to watch the sunset hit the waterfall.

Seonghwa left Hongjoong to their quarters as he made his way up to the rocky outcropping at the top of the waterfall. 

You were already waiting for him, your bare feet standing in the shallow end of the river leading down to the waterfall. You still had on the top and skirt from earlier, and as a light breeze wafted past, it blew through your hair and your clothes like a dream. 

You glanced up at him. “Ready?”

“Whenever you are.” He grinned as the anticipation and excitement of breaking his wings free slowly bubbled up into his chest. It wasn't only being able to spend time with you, but simply the thoughts of being his dragon self that made him so giddy. 

You hopped out of the river and padded across the soil toward him. 

Once you were in line with him, Seonghwa flashed you a wide smile and sprinted toward the cliff edge. Your laughter followed him as he dove off toward the water below, eyes falling closed as he relished in the wind whipping past his skin. 

When he opened his eyes, he skimmed the water's surface with the edge of a veiny, membranous wing, before swooping back up toward the ripening sky above. His humanoid features had fully transformed into that of a creature nearly five times his human height. Scales of obsidian, gleaming a dark blue in the light, rippled across his back, his skin. He huffed steam from his nostrils and searched for you. 

A body of iridescent white, so pearly that you appeared a shade of light purple in the burning gold light, blurred in his periphery. 

He whipped his head in your direction, watching you soar around him in a loose circle. You wrapped around him and grazed the end of your tail against his, a caress. 

He didn't want to think too much about that. 

And then your irises, blue-purple in this form, were blinking at him. Northward? Your snout gestured in that vague direction. 

Seonghwa huffed his agreement, and the pair of you took off into the skies. 

A dragon shifter's courtship traditions were different from other shifters’ cultures. For one, the value of wearing a potential mate's jewelry was equivalent to acceptance of courtship; additionally, wearing one another's jewels essentially spelled out a long-term partnership. It was similar to humans’ exchanging of rings. 

Dragons dressed their mates in their own jewels as dragons were ruthlessly protective of their hoards of treasures, and a mate was even more precious than any jewel one could acquire. There were other rituals, too—such as dousing one another in dragonfire, performing a certain mating dance, consuming meals made by their mate—but the jewels had always been emphasized in Seonghwa's clan. 

It was why he stiffened when he saw a slim, silver chain wrapped around your ankle this morning. 

The piece of jewelry looked awfully similar to something he owned, except the one you wore was studded with an amethyst on the tail, whereas the one he owned was studded with sapphire. He struggled to swallow as he stepped into the kitchen, eyes pinned to your ankle. 

The way the light refracted off the gem made the article appear so much like his own jewelry; his heart could not take a scare like that so early. Perhaps scare wasn't such an accurate word—he simply hadn't had the time to mentally prepare. 

It didn't matter how long he'd fantasized about it. Seeing the real thing would likely bring him to his knees regardless. 

“Hwa,” your amused chuckle greeted his ears as you peered at him from over the rim of your coffee cup. “Good morning.”

He tried for a smile and forced himself to look at something, anything, other than your ankle. “Hi. Good morning.” Seonghwa grabbed a cup of his own to pour a helping of the brew into. “Sleep well?”

You rolled your shoulders back, followed by your neck. But as he blew on the hot coffee, he failed to notice the way your eyes watched his movements regarding the coffee. “Mhm, way better after we flew last night.”

Seonghwa hummed warmly. “Yes, same here.” Last night was a blissful night of deep sleep. The tension between his shoulder blades had lessened considerably. 

He took a gentle sip of his beverage, and the rich bittersweetness hit him as an alluring wakeup call. You were still watching as he took a larger gulp. 

His eyes met yours. “Something wrong?” He asked, licking his lips. 

Your eyes widened. “Nope,” you squeaked out. You coughed, setting your mug on the table to lace your fingers together. “Uhm so… thoughts on kebabs for lunch? I was gonna go hunting later.”

“Mmh.” Seonghwa drained his cup of coffee. “That sounds good. I can go with you—if you'd like,” he added swiftly. Sometimes hunting could be a therapeutic solo trip and he hoped he wasn't encroaching. Though, going hunting just the two of you sounded nice, too. 

“I'd love the company,” you said. When you smiled, his own widened. 

The brief moment of peace the two of you shared shattered as two bodies barrelled into the room, followed by another set of thundering footsteps behind them. 

“YAH! Choi Jongho, I know this was all your idea!” Wooyoung appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, drenched from head to toe with dark and damp bangs hanging in his seething eyes. A puddle was beginning to form beneath him as he glared at the two giggling imps cowering behind the opposite end of the counter. 

You and Seonghwa connected gazes across the chaos. Good grief. 

From behind Wooyoung's calf, another creature poked her head out to hiss at the perpetrators. Wooyoung's cat familiar looked akin to a wet rat, the poor thing. 

“Seonghwa hyung, do something!”

Seonghwa's eyes drifted over to Jongho and Yeosang, who flashed him a pair of sheepish smiles. “Aye… both of you. Now.”

“We didn't get water on San,” was what Yeosang offered with a shrug. 

That seemed to not be the answer Wooyoung was looking for. If the witch was a dragon instead, Seonghwa was sure he would be blowing steam out of his ears. “Are you kidding me? I am going to hex you so badly, you will never know a day of peac—”

Jongho suddenly yelped, startling everyone as he leaped a couple feet in the air and ran to crouch beside you at the breakfast table. 

“What, what? What is it?” 

Yeosang's eyes had widened to the size of globes, too, as he scurried backward to the edge of the cavern. His stare was still pinned to something on the other side of the counter. 

Seonghwa peered over the ledge and swore sharply. “That is the biggest fucking bug I have ever seen in my life,” he said with his hand pressed to his face, stressed. 

Wooyoung had magically disappeared, and his cat had retreated alongside him. If even the cat didn't want anything to do with the big hunk of insect—

“AH-AH! HYUNG, IT'S MOVING!” Jongho screeched and grabbed the back of your chair to hide behind you. 

Seonghwa paused at that action, but snapped out of it when he saw the legs peek out from around the corner. “Can someone get Yunho?”

“Ohhhhh, I'm too young to die,” the youngest whispered toward the ceiling, his face contorted in fear and anguish; it was a rare thing to see from Jongho. “Yn, please, flame its ass or something!”

You sputtered, curling your feet up onto your chair with you in case the bug came scuttling toward the table. “Uh no. Yunho would literally flame me if I did!”

“Screw what he thinks. He's not here right now.”

Seonghwa clambered up onto the counter and peered over the edge again. He slapped a hand over his mouth after seeing the bug for another time. “Okay,” he said carefully, “on the count of three, we're all going to run for the edge and jump into the lake.”

Three nods from around the room. 

“One…” Everyone shifted an inch toward the cave opening. “Two…”

The fuckass bug moved. 

The countdown was abandoned—Jongho ran for the opening and tackled Yeosang into the water. Seonghwa leaped over the remainder of the countertop in time to swan dive into the lake beside you. His body sliced into the water like a hot knife through butter, and the lake's cool temperatures engulfed him in a refreshing embrace. 

Your head popped up right beside him and you shot him a laughing grin. “Well, that's definitely one way to start off the day.”

He laughed alongside you, slicking his wet hair back and out of his face. “I mean, we were gonna end up in the water at some point,” he mused. 

“True.” Your eyes zeroed in on something just below his jawline. You swam a little closer, and Seonghwa's heart catapulted into his throat. “You have a little, uhm, watercress…”

Your fingers brushed over his collarbone as you gently plucked the strand of watercress out from the links of the necklace sitting on his sternum. You lifted the plant up as if to say, 'Ta da,’ before pausing at your physical proximity. 

Seonghwa watched as a drop of water dripped down the middle of your face, down the slope of your nose, and slipped over your plush lips. Woah…

He had half the mind to reach out and thumb it away. 

“Two dragons, a fae prince, and a water mage couldn't handle a fucking roach?” 

You and Seonghwa jolted away from each other like similar poles of a magnet, heat rushing up to the surface of your skin. You both tilted your gazes up to the caves and saw Yunho appear at the mouth of the kitchen, a wide grin on his face as he held the bug up between his two fingers. 

“That sounds like a joke I've heard before,” San laughed as he walked up next to Yunho. He waved down at the lot of you in the water, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. 

Wooyoung peered out from behind San. “Instant karma!” He hollered. 

“Come down here, and we can talk about instant karma,” Jongho threw right back up at him. He flicked his wrist and sent a jet of lake water up to the cave mouth, hitting Wooyoung square between the eyes with scary accuracy. 

San howled in laughter as his friend hissed from the friendly fire. 

Seonghwa loosened a warm chuckle before turning toward you—wait. Where did you go? He twirled around in the water, eyes scanning the lake for where you'd gone. 

“Hwa!” You were by the far shore, raising your hand up to wave him over. 

He didn't hesitate to swim over toward you. The two of you swam over to the furthest edge of the lake, far from the others. The morning sun had not yet crested high enough to penetrate through the trees here, and that left you both in a patch of dreamy shade where long leaves dripped into the water like Mother Nature's curtains. 

Seonghwa clambered out onto the bank and yanked the hem of his shirt up and over his head. The material had stuck to his skin like glue, and he was a lot more comfortable without it on. 

Behind him though, he swore he heard your breath hitch. 

The corner of his lips curled upward in satisfaction. He continued to feign ignorance as he wrung his wet shirt out, arm muscles flexing as the water trickled out of the fabric. “You coming up, love?” He asked casually, peering over his shoulder at you lingering in the water. 

You cleared your throat as you pulled yourself onto land. “Y-yeah,” you said, covering your stammer with a breathy laugh. 

“Cold?” He teased, finally turning his body to face you in full. 

You passed him an expression of playful exasperation. “Freezing,” you jested back. It was difficult for dragon shifters to be cold; the amount of heat either of you generated on your own was enough to keep you warm all the time. After all, you did spew fire from your mouth on occasion. 

Seonghwa whipped his shirt out in front of him and blew a breath of steam through it. The fabric dried up fast, but instead of putting it back on, he slung it over his shoulder. 

An idea plunked itself into the forefront of his mind. “Shall we hunt?” He asked and extended a hand out to you. 

He saw the flicker of blue-purple in your irises—like lightning—as you brushed a lock of hair from your eyes. You took his hand, your fingers and palms slotting together like matching clasps of a chain. “We shall.”

Seonghwa sat at the vanity table in his and Hongjoong's room. The world beyond the mouth of this cavern was a dark sapphire, embroidered with small diamonds in its fabric—the night sky and its stars. The muffled rush of the waterfall nearby played in the background as he sifted through his traveler's chest of jewelry and gemstones. Hongjoong had half fallen asleep in the hot spring somewhere behind him, so Seonghwa was taking this time to pick out what he wanted to wear to… tomorrow…

His hand movements stilled as something caught his eyes in the chest of shiny stones. He held his breath, carefully withdrawing a silver chain out by its amethyst stone. There was no question about what it was and that it didn't belong to him. 

Your fragrance still lingered on the metal, though cool from being away from your body heat for a while. 

Seonghwa breathed out loudly through his nose as he stared at the article in his palm. 

He could hear Hongjoong emerging from the hot spring pool. “Something wrong, Hwa?”

“Did you” — Seonghwa's brows furrowed and he twisted around on the vanity stool — “steal her anklet?”

Hongjoong frowned, wrapping a towel around his waist before coming to stand beside his friend. He peered down at the article, reaching out to touch the anklet. 

Seonghwa moved his hand away and his chest rumbled with a low growl. 

A soft huff of amusement fell from Hongjoong's lips, and he settled his hand on Seonghwa's shoulder instead. “No, I wouldn't dare. I don't want to face a dragon's wrath for stealing from their hoard, thank you very much.”

“Hmph.” Seonghwa considered the article in his palm once more. If Hongjoong wasn't pulling his leg, then the logical answer was that you put your anklet in his jewelry chest. But why would you do that, and when did you? He would have smelled your scent lingering in this room if you had, and he couldn't pick up on any of his friends’ scents either. 

A flower of hope blossomed in his chest as he thought about the implications of this gesture further. Maybe it didn't matter how it got here, only what you thought about it being here in his possession.

“It's a sign,” Hongjoong giggled, squeezing his shoulder. He trudged away to go find his sweatpants to sleep in. “Your move, Park!”

Seonghwa slowly wrapped his fingers around the chain, a small smile flitting onto his face. In the mirror, his cheekbones burned the color of the rubies in his jewelry case. 

His move, indeed. 

In the morning, Seonghwa rose before day broke the dawn. 

It had come to him like a strike of lightning last night as he laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, weighing the option of wearing your anklet like a lovesick fool or returning it to you in the morning. What he'd remembered, instead, was something you told him about your clan's traditions. 

While his family held a lot more emphasis on adornment for mating traditions, your family clan put more importance on the act of making a meal for a potential partner. Consuming said meal was an acceptance of courtship and love. 

As he hunched over the kitchen countertop pouring over a recipe on his phone, he marinated on how to go about this. Presenting you with breakfast—that he only made for you, might he add—was not a subtle move in the slightest. Perhaps slipping your anklet into his things could be interpreted a couple ways, but it wasn't a glaring neon sign like this gesture was going to be. 

Nonetheless, Seonghwa got to work. He was counting on his friends to stay the fuck asleep. 

About an hour later, he was just finishing up when he picked up on the sound of your bare feet padding across the hallway toward the kitchen. Your perfume followed next, carrying into the room on an invisible breeze. Seonghwa drummed his fingers against the countertop as you strolled into the room, eyes wide and bright when you saw him there with food made. 

“Well, something smells yummy,” you said warmly. “Should I go wake the others?”

“No!” He laughed nervously, breaking into a bashful smile. “No need. This—this is just for you. I mean, I made breakfast for you.”

Your eyes seemed to grow even wider. “Break—breakfast for me? Just me?”

He nodded and wrung his hands in front of his body. “Just you… if that's okay.”

“Of course, that's okay. More than okay, really,” you murmured, eyes turning shy. The implications were too blatant not to miss or deny. 

Seonghwa gestured for you to take a seat at the breakfast table and presented you with the hot and fresh plate of breakfast he'd just made. He claimed the seat across from you with his own plate, but didn't touch it yet. His nerves made his hands shake beneath the table as he watched you take your utensil and fork a bite into your mouth. 

Something warm burst in his chest as you swallowed, then took another bite. 

“It's really good,” you said to him between bites. Your mouth was pursed into a wide smile, a tenderness swimming in your gemstone irises. “I think though,” you murmured after swallowing, “that we need to talk.”

Seonghwa's stomach tightened, but he nodded. “Agreed. I, uhm, I found this in my jewelry case last night.” He pulled out the strand of silver and amethyst from his pocket. The metal and jewel glistened in the soft morning sunlight pouring into the open cavern. 

“Oh, you didn't wear it?”

He went doe-eyed. “I wanted to—I just wanted to be clear about intentions first, just because if I wore this…” He stammered, “Then you'd be mine and I'd be yours.” 

The wording of it made your pulse skip, but it was exactly what you wanted. All of this stumbling around each other, falling over yourselves, was for this purpose. 

“Is that right, love?”

You nodded, as the two of you shared a smile in the glow of early morning. “That's right.”

He would be yours, and you would be his. 

Breakfast was dined upon in peace with quiet murmurings exchanged between the two of you, accompanied by light laughter and loving gazes. It was a marvel none of it was interrupted by the other occupants of the lakeside getaway. 

There was another thing that had to be done in order to seal the deal, however. 

When breakfast was finished and cleaned up after, Seonghwa barged back into his and Hongjoong's shared bedroom. His demon best friend was nowhere to be found, but it was no matter. Seonghwa went over to the vanity table and carefully picked up the necklace he had laid out last night. It was white gold studded in fat, glistening rubies—his prized possession, and one of the few pieces he had saved for only his future partner to wear.

That giddy excitement curled in his stomach again as he took the necklace with him up to your bedroom on the second floor. You were there waiting for him, your foot braced on the vanity stool to fix his sapphire chain onto your ankle, as your amethyst one laid around his. 

“This,” he murmured as he came up behind you in the mirror, “I've been saving for someone special.” He locked eyes with you in the looking glass, a sweet smile playing on his lips as he draped the heavy gems over your sternum. 

Blood rubies were precious and harder to come by these days, which was why Seonghwa coveted them. It only made sense that they should rest now on a person he would also come to value even more. They sat perfectly upon your collarbones, like a tiara upon your head… like it was made for you. You were yourself a treasure. 

Seonghwa could hardly contain his contentment at the sight. He wrapped his arms around your middle as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, smiling against your skin. “Perfect.”

a/n: don't forget to reblog + comment if u enjoyed!

atz m.list

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[a-mint-bear]

Courtship Rituals

Male Yandere x Reader

So… that's definitely space outside the window. It's been a week since you woke up on this ship, and the weird alien who keeps checking in on you is… nice enough. But something about him seems off...

____________________________

"I see you're doing well, starlight."

He’d been checking up on you more often lately. At least you were pretty sure they were a "he". Since his voice started getting translated by the device on his temple, it was sounding decidedly masculine.

Since you’d woken up on this ship, he’d been keeping an eye on you. At first, you’d been terrified, and rightly so. Waking up to an eight-foot-tall, armored alien staring at you had been too much. After screaming and throwing things, and more screaming, he'd seemed unbothered by your reaction. He tried talking to you, but it just sounded like chirps and chuffs, like a big cat. He'd done his best to communicate, but nothing was coming across.

With a defeated hiss, he disappeared for a day or so. You’d attempted to get out of the massive, round bed but the sudden movement made your vision swim and a nauseous feeling crashed over you. With so many questions still bouncing around in your head, you were frustrated that all you could really do was wait.

You had a dreamless sleep, the night sky trailing on endlessly outside the massive floor-to ceiling window that made you feel all the more insignificant.

____________________________

When he came back the next day (maybe?), you finally got a good look at him. His face was the only vaguely human thing about him, save for large, dark eyes that glowed in the dark and odd scales on his cheeks and forehead. He had pointed ears that almost looked like they belonged to a bat. They swiveled and twitched, especially when you spoke. He was rarely expressive, though you did see him attempt a smile from time to time. You say "attempt" because it was way too wide and revealed far too many sharp teeth. It set off some ancient instinct in you to stay the hell away. You tried to ignore it but still kept your guard up just in case.

A keyboard-like light panel that projected from a device on his forearm chimed as he tapped away at it, and he approached you with a metal circle no bigger than your thumbnail, matching the one he wore. You backed away, hyper-aware of the stranger's touch. He… purred at you? And while you were distracted, he tapped it to your right temple.

There was a sharp pinch, the pain pulsing away with your heartbeat. When you cried out, he was quick to touch his long, clawed fingers to yours, maybe trying to comfort you.

You could hear the device whirring away against your skin, latching onto you and beeping intermittently. You’d never felt anything interacting with what felt like your brain before, and you could say without a doubt that it was NOT great.

The noises stopped, and a low, almost ghostly voice purred in your ear.

"Communication link established. The device should be fully functional now…"

“Hello there.” His clawed finger caressed yours, soothing your pain. It eventually faded, that purring of his actually seemed to help. “I hope your rest has helped you overcome your transfer sickness.”

From then on, any time he talked to you, it swung between intelligent, endless technical talk that one might expect from this extra sci-fi guy and…

Awkward small talk?

"Lovely weather we're having today." He smiled that horrifying smile of his, sitting on the end of the bed.

With an awkward glance out the window, you had the thought that there was, of course, no weather in space.

"Have you read any interesting publications as of late?"

You shook off the odd nature of the questions, cutting to the chase.

Why were you here?

"Of course, I've brought you onto my ship for the… hmm. It seems there is no exact translation for it." He seemed puzzled, tapping away at the device. "The closest term that I can find is… ah. The Courtship."

You froze.

Courtship?

He seriously abducted you to… woo you?

And here you thought that was a cliché for extraterrestrials…

That would explain the awkward small talk. But it was still too weird.

You tried to get to the bottom of all this. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the wave of anxiety that had yet to wash away.

You had no idea as to how he would react to you just saying “No, take me back to Earth.” So, you’d have to ease into it, gauge his reactions.

You told him your name. He mulled over it, mispronouncing it a few times before growling a little. It made you freeze, your brain was again screaming “Danger, get away from here NOW”, but you needed to keep your head.

“If I could, it sounds… very similar to the word my people have for… the closest translation I can come to is the… electromagnetic radiation from self-gravitational fixed plasma points that are visible to the naked eye. Starlight… yes, that will suffice.”

If he weren’t an actual, literal alien, you would swear he was upping his word count to sound smarter. But you had no clue how this translator worked, maybe it just pointed him to the closest words to what he wanted to say.

But it seemed you had a nickname. A very romantic-sounding one. Great.

You asked him for his name in return.

"Yes, my designation. My species has little use for such titles." He brushed off the notion with a shift of his dark eyes, staring into yours again. "We do not interact with one another to require such differentiation. I have heard of my people taking a title assigned to them by their mate, for their own assurance, as we mate for life."

He leaned to be closer to you, his face uncomfortably close to yours. You guessed he was kind of handsome, for a literal alien… But that wasn’t any of his business.

"Would you like to assign me a title, my starlight?"

He was thinking of you… as his mate? Already? Or was that just an example? You’d literally spent less than a full day actually talking with him and he was talking about mating for life? It was all too much.

You didn’t want him to assume you were okay with any of this, but it might help him see you in a better light. Make you a person in his eyes, and not just a (hopefully temporary) guest on his ship. Maybe even sympathize with you when you asked him about turning the thing around and taking you back home.

You combed your mind for anything that would fit, digging deep for your middle school astronomy/mythology phases.

You asked if he would be okay if you called him Cygnus, only telling him it was the name of a star back on Earth. But it stood out with his casual “mate for life” comment, even though he resembled a dragon/cat more than a swan. Not to mention the story of an otherworldly being making advances towards someone he really shouldn’t, as Zeus once did to Leda.

“Siig…nussss…” he hissed out the last syllable, his tongue flicking out over the strange word. “Cygnus… I will cherish this title, starlight.” he nuzzled your hand to his scaled cheek, purring again. Before you could say anything else, the panel on his arm went off with a sudden alarm.

“Apologies.” he stood, tapping at some of the keys. “I must attend to something.”

Before Cygnus could step away from the bed, you panicked, reaching out and grabbing his hand. He stared at you, a curious purr slipping out before he knelt by the bedside.

You held his large hand in yours, pleading with him that you couldn’t do this. You had a life, he took you from it and this was all too much. You just wanted to go home.

His expression never changed, but he touched your hair, seeming almost entranced by it. You wondered if this alien would take pity on you, if he could be persuaded to do the right thing.

“Ah, you seem to be misinterpreting something.” You could see the realization in his dark eyes. “The language barrier is beginning to become a hindrance.”

He held your hand in a placating way, patting it gently like he had seen someone do the same thing without knowing much context.

“The Courtship is… something my people have been doing for eons. They believe that genetic variation is the key to a long-standing civilization. No two of us are genetically similar to each other after a few generations. We have varying appearances and life expectancies. We visit a faraway star system and… take a viable mate from the populace. Some do this at random, some monitor their prospective mates to assess compatibility.”

“After searching for so long, I found myself interested in the humanoid species of Earth. The longer I observed, searching for my perfect mate, the more I became… intrigued by the courtship rituals I observed.”

“You engage in meaningless banter where neither party really cares for the answer. The lingering touches, the subtle glances. Small meaningful gifts or large shows of extravagance to display to the prospective mate that they can provide. And dancing… I was especially intrigued by how your species uses such a thing for showcasing sexual compatibility. The Courtship is such a… straightforward and dull undertaking by comparison.”

“I saw you, just walking alone…” His eyes were shining as he looked at you, that damn purring started back up whenever he paused. “I’ve heard from others of my kind that we just… know. And when I saw you I knew…I knew you were my mate.”

The way he said it, it felt like you stopped breathing. He was looking at you like… like a predator who’d finally cornered their prey. That’s what your brain had been warning you about.

“We take our mate aboard our ships and begin… this word isn’t coming across. I will do some research… Regardless, this is not traditionally a… harmonious process?” he tilted his head, still as emotionless as before. “No, perhaps… consensual is the better term.”

You didn’t dare to look away from his eyes, that horrible, terrified feeling clawing down your back. You suddenly wondered if you’d ever seen him blink.

“That particular element of The Courtship continues to be necessary.”

Cygnus caressed your cheek, you could feel his claws gently touch your skin, they were blunt and curved. You were suddenly reminded of how some claws like that weren’t meant to tear and slash, but rather pin and capture.

Words completely failed you, not that you knew what to say. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

“Get some rest, my starlight.” he touched his forehead to yours, nuzzling you as he purred. “I’ll court you as long as it takes.”

He stepped out of the room and left you to your own devices, and you went into the “flight” option of fight or flight. There was no obvious way to open the door to the room, no handle or lock, just a slab of metal that stood out from the surrounding wall. You tried to rattle it, push on it, kick it down. But it didn’t budge.

The little thing on your head beeped, and it seemed to communicate with a robot eye-looking thing above the door. It lit up in recognition of your device, but then blinked red with a quick negative-sounding chime. It was confirmation of something you already suspected, but didn’t want to accept.

You were locked in. You’d probably been locked in the entire time. Cygnus’ calm demeanor made you think he could be reasoned with, made to see you were your own person who deserved to live your own life.

You slid down the door, collapsing into panicked tears.

It was clear that he saw you as anything but.

____________________________

Affectionately nicknaming the alien yandere "Siggy" in my head. because Cyggy looks a little silly, but either are acceptable.

with his face it's possible that there was a human somewhere in his lineage, way way back when. it's mostly surface level, as he doesn't even recognize it in himself. to be fair, there's no one way his species is "supposed" to look.

His people do the whole "alien abduction" thing to reproduce, probably not in the old-fashioned way but more of a gene-splice-y way, but it's still a terrifying practice.

it's been a hot second since i posted anything, started my new job and i tend to get into a creative slump when i get into work mode. but sitting down at my actual computer to write this instead of editing it on my phone or old tablet did the trick.

now im sitting here thinking "does he have a tail?" and now im debating it lol. he probably definitely has those legs, you know the ones. google tells me it's called digitigrade.

and that "armor" is really just like... a scaley exoskeleton. but not really, more like a crab shell that would grow back if damaged or ripped off. it protects his soft, vulnerable body. he molts it every year and he gets super embarrassed being seen without his "armor" ha

until next time, i have to get some work done ✌️

edit: art of Cygnus

[maxtermind]

Can you please do “makes me want to wreck you” and “good. now you know what it's like.” but both in smut with lando norris and an innocent or naive reader? Thank you so much lovely ❤️

“makes me want to wreck you” + “good. now you know what it's like.”

( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: the one in which he proves just how good sex is. sex with him. ★:feat:: lando norris x reader ★:genre:: smut

it took you embarrassingly long to focus on what your boyfriend was saying. you could see his lips moving, but your poor clit was pressed so hard between your thighs that it was impossible to concentrate on anything else.

“you better start answering,” he purred against your ear, catching you off guard. “or i might walk out of this room right now.”

these were empty threats. you would actually pay him to see if he would walk out, and if you weren’t so hyper-aware of him, you might get richer but—

“tsk,” he murmured nonchalantly as he pressed his knee into the small space between your legs, pushing them apart and grinding slowly, painfully against your clit. “do you want me to walk out when she's— fuck,” lando cursed when you caught his arm and tried to match his rhythm.

“she's fucking weeping for me,” he growled, cursing again as you started whimpering against him. “thought you said— shit, that you've never done this before.”

he was right; you were so wet that the rough surface of his jeans was getting a dark, damp spot. you were leaking through your panties, not even daring to look down at the ruined material.

“p-promise i've never,” you choked out as another moan slipped from your mouth. he was pressing just the right amount against your little bud, every nudge and brush leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“i... i don’t know what to do,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, clearly lying through your teeth. but you genuinely didn’t know; your body was moving as if it had a mind of its own.

“you can still talk?” lando raised an eyebrow, putting more weight on his knee as he stopped moving, restraining you from shamelessly grinding your pussy on him to get off. “guess i need to step up my game.”

one second you were half-sitting on the couch, and the next, he was pulling you using your feet, a yelp leaving your mouth. “wha... god!”

your nipples hurt when the motion made them rub against your shirt, a reaction not lost on your boyfriend, who immediately bent down to bite a clothed one.

“oh— lan...” you murmured, knowing the bastard was thoroughly satisfied that you couldn't finish your sentence.

“you're so adorable when flustered,” lando whispered, looking up at you in awe. the look in his eyes alone made you feel so loved, so desirable for the first time that—

“it makes me want to wreck you,” he hissed as he pinched your nipple with his hand and continued lightly biting on the other one.

you were both technically fully clothed, and it bewildered you that sex— this wasn't even 'sex'— could feel so good that it was making you lose your mind.

you wanted to point and laugh at your past self, who rolled her eyes when her friend said, “you just wait for the right person; they'll have you crumbling in seconds.”

“always fucking lost in your head,” your boyfriend— your right person— grunted as he rubbed his erection against your leg while assaulting your hard nipples.

how the fuck was all of this so fucking hot from over the clothes? were you insane for even liking this?

“w-won’t stop,” lando threw his head back, shivering when he probably rubbed a sensitive part against you. “won’t stop till all you t- fuck, think about is me.”

he must have been insane to even think you could think about anything but him—

smack!

“that’ll teach you,” he grinned as your lower lip wobbled. lando instantly rubbed at the skin of your thigh turning red before he got up and spread your legs wide. “haa…” he let out in wonder.

lando climbed back into the space between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. he hovered over you, his hands bracing on either side of your head. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze intense. “do you have any idea what you do to me?”

you shook your head, unable to find your voice. the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered— it was overwhelming.

“well, i guess i better show you then,” lando huffed, his eyes soft before he settled his other knee against your glistening lips.

he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue exploring your mouth. you moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him back with everything you had. the feel of his body pressing against yours, the heat of his skin— it was all-consuming.

every touch, every movement sent jolts of pleasure through your body. you could hardly believe this was happening, that someone could make you feel this way. the pressure against your clit was driving you wild, the rough texture of his jeans adding an edge that had you teetering on the brink.

“lando, ngh! p-please,” you whimpered, once again instinctively moving to grind against his knee. the friction was intense, building a pressure inside you that was about to explode.

he chuckled darkly, his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and desire. “look at you,” he murmured. “so fucking desperate for me. do you want to come, darling?”

you nodded frantically, unable to form coherent words. the need was overwhelming, consuming you entirely. “puh-lease,” you managed to gasp out.

tears rolled down your cheeks when he didn’t reply. was he going to stretch this out? “lando,” you whimpered, your voice desperate.

he shushed you gently, “i know, love. i’ve got you.” the words were a promise, a reassurance. he wasn’t going to stop until he had you coming undone beneath him.

you were teetering on the edge, every nerve ending on fire. when his mouth resorted to nibbling and sucking at your neck, you cried out, your back arching off the bed like a slut, just for him. the sensation was overwhelming, his touch driving you wild.

“good girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with pride. “you’re doing so good.”

you could barely think, your mind a haze of pleasure. his fingers moved inside you, each stroke pushing you closer to the brink. you panted, your body trembling with the need to just let go.

“please,” apparently you couldn’t stop begging, your voice barely audible. “i need… i need…”

lando smirked, his movements becoming more deliberate. he pressed his knee harder against your clit, fingers unabashedly toying with your nipples. “come for me, love,” he whispered. “show me how good i make you feel.”

that. that was all it took. with a cry, you came undone, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

it was intense, almost too much, and yet not enough. you clung to him, your nails digging into his arms as you rode out the orgasm, your mind blank except for the sensation of him against you.

as you slowly came back to yourself, you realized you were panting, your body trembling with aftershocks. lando was watching you with a satisfied smile, his eyes dark with lingering desire. “wow,” you breathed, your voice shaky. “this is what i’ve been missing out on?”

he leaned down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. “you have no idea,” he murmured against your lips. “and we’re just getting started.”

you looked up at him, your heart swelling with a mix of affection and lust. “i'm ruined,” you said softly. “i want this— you— all the time.”

lando's smile widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he looked down at his zipper, making you do the same. “good,” he replied, his voice low and possessive. “now you know what it’s like.”

a new, very odd sensation filled your chest when you saw his ruined jeans. satisfied that you made him come without even touching him, you grinned, feeling a sense of pride and anticipation for what’s to come.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★:a/n:: woah what a way to kick start the event! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3

[hai7ani]

talk 2 me / haitani rindou

You think Rindou is the most charming he can be like this ー fresh out of a nap, hair all messy and wearing his old basketball jersey from high school as he shoves your cooking down his throat. There's sleep marks all across both his arms, a tiger balm plaster stuck on his left shoulder that he'd rummaged through cabinets and asked for you to help him stick it on, the evening sun kissing all over his back, painting his soft tanned skin pretty gold and honey.

And you? You're sprawled across the couch watching him, TV show long forgotten and the remote control in your hands as you fiddle mindlessly with the buttons. You think you really want to press a kiss to his toned bicep ー maybe nibble on it a little, watch him hiss in faux pain as if he isn't already used to the gentle sting of your teeth poking into his flesh, your teethmarks indented and some saliva smeared across his skin.

But here's the thing ー Rindou is mad at you (you think your baby is still mad at you). He isn't facing you while he eats ー well, technically he is facing you, just sideways, kinda. You know he knows that you're looking at him ー watching him like a hawk, taking in his every move as he feeds himself spoon after spoon of the leftover bowl of rice you couldn't finish, and hearts in your eyes despite the little argument shared earlier in noon.

"Honey," you start, voice all soft and sweet when calling him such a lovely endearment, and Rindou visibly softens at your coo. His shoulders aren't as tense anymore and he not-so-discreetly starts lowering down the volume of the movie playing from his laptop.

You heart flutters a little at his gesture despite knowing that he is still mad at you. "'M sleepy. Gonna go nap a bit." You wait for him to process it, and with that, you retreat into his room with his cat following behind in little meows.

He blinks a bit when he hears his bedroom door closing and puts down the spoon with a sigh. Ran emerges from the balcony with a scoff after having to witness all that went down.

"Are you still not going to say sorry?"

Rindou doesn't think he's felt this guilty before.

/

You awake from your nap to soft kisses littered all over your face and a familiar weight pressed on top of yourself.

With one eye open you see your honey lying atop of you, beefy arms wrapped around your torso, your waist, and he's chosen to bury his head into your neck now. His cat rests just a little beside both your legs, purring loud as ever, but she is awake and she is watching the both of you as Rindou clings and buries himself into your warmth while you rub and massage his shoulder for relief.

"You know, I dreamt of you taking me to the beach." You murmur, hints of sleep still evident in your voice. You feel his lips stretch into what seems like a smile against your skin. "You were only asleep for 10 minutes."

"A lot can happen in 10 minutes, baby... My dream, for one."

He scoffs playfully against you and neither of you speak anymore afterwards ー just busy enjoying each other's warmth and basking in the sun until it slowly lowers itself and hides behind the many skyscrapers of Tokyo.

It's quiet until it's not.

"Are you still mad at me?"

You poke and tickle your nose against his cheek, prompting him for a response. You wish for him to say that he isn't. You don't like it when he is mad at you ー you never do. You hate it, actually. And you hate it even more when you fight knowing it's no one's fault and you hate it too when you do not know how to communicate to him despite knowing what it is that you actually, really want. (He doesn't really, either, but you're both trying for each other, and it is all that matters.)

"No, I'm not." You melt into his arms as you let him manoeuvre you both on the bed until you are facing each other. Rindou still has his hands wrapped around you, so you move one of your own to rest on his arm, thumb rubbing soft circles onto his pec as you listen to him speak.

"'M sorry for earlier. Didn't mean to raise my voice. Was just frustrated 'n everything. You never really tell me what you want." He apologises in broken up sentences and your heart melts a little upon spotting the cute pout on his lips as he nuzzles closes to you.

"I mean, I just want you to tell me what's up, what's going on, you know? I won't... I won't react differently. 'S just me, babe. Tell me things. I don't want you to keep it all inside." Rindou confesses.

A warm, calloused palm covers itself on your hip. One of your own covers his cheek.

"I know. I'm sorry for earlier too." A thumb swipes across his brow, then his eyelid. "I don't really know how to tell you things, but I am trying. I know you won't judge, but it's hard to open up."

"...Then we'll try, together. Jus' don't wanna see you sad. Don't like it when we fight either."

You know Rindou hates it when he does things that upsets you. Like the one time he'd gone out and fought with the douchebags who'd messed with you despite telling him not to, and he'd ended up coming home to you with one black eye and a busted lip only to see you in tears because you don't like seeing him all beat up. That was ages ago, when he was still young and had nothing much to lose except for you. Or the other time when Rindou had accidentally neglected your feelings at the start of your relationship because his simple mind couldn't yet differentiate between time spent with you and time spent together with you.

But those were the past. Right now, he's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky ー like you'd crafted the Earth and created the Sun.

"Promise me you'll tell me things, yeah? Make it my problem too. We'll settle it together." He grabs your hand on his cheek ー kisses the tips of your fingers, then your palm.

"Okay."

And you both watch as a certain furry creature squeezes its way past both your bodies ー little movements accompanied by soft meows, until it eventually finds a comfortable spot between you and your lover and confidently topples down right where you face each other.

"We'll go to the beach tomorrow." Rindou grumbles in annoyance after being fed a mouthful of cat fur, honeyed voice a little muffled as he tries his best to shift her into his arm, "...with this light bulb here."

You laugh into his chest. "Okay, honey."

i feel like most of my stuff are pretty repetitive but i am such a sucker for gentle, mundane romance 😕😕

[emilys-bangs]

Hiii congrats on hitting 200!! I love the concept you got going on!! I’d like to request Andromeda and the prompt 20? Emily let’s you borrow a shirt or sweater but seeing you on her clothes is her fave thing so she is all lovey dovey and all super super clingy and sweet. Don’t worry about it if you don’t feel like this, I understand ❤️

Hii sweetheart, tysm!! This was so fun to write, I hope you like it <3

Join my celebration here!

Word count: 0.9k

It’s not that you want to go home, but at this point you practically have no choice.

“Em, I don’t have any clean clothes.” You mumble, trying your best not to sink into her embrace as she hugs you from behind. It’s a very effective trap.

“Well gee, it’s not like there’s a fully stocked closet here.” Her voice drips with sarcasm. You roll your eyes.

“Emily—”

She turns you around abruptly, cutting the protest off just as it reaches your lips. Those eyes of hers stare into your soul as she cups your cheek with a warm hand, her brows furrowing in disapproval.

“Honey, I’m serious. We can throw your clothes in the wash. I’m pretty sure this,” she tugs at your sweater, “is clean, but you can borrow mine if you don’t wanna wear it anymore.”

It’s not technically dirty; you wore it last night after your shower and slept in it until you woke up a little over an hour ago, wanting to go home for a change of clothes. 

Except there’s someone blocking your way.

Emily has a way with words, you think, trying to make yourself feel better about submitting to her will so embarrassingly easily.

“You’re sure it’s fine?” You ask, nuzzling your cheek into her palm.

It’s Emily’s turn to roll her eyes. “No, sorry, we’ve exchanged bodily fluids but I draw the line at you wearing my clothes.”

Her dry tone makes you want to kiss her—just to shut her up. So you do, because you’re officially not going home and the weekend is stretched out in front of you and you’re not going to waste a single precious second with your girlfriend.

She smiles into the kiss, sensing her victory, and you can’t even be mad about it.

“You’re such a fucking smartass.” You murmur against her lips anyway.

Emily grins. “All part of my charm,” she says as she drags you back to her room, her fingers fitting themselves between yours. Sergio trots beside you as you pad into her room, winding his way around Emily’s ankles just as she’s opening her closet door.

She ignores the cat and rifles through her closet, searching for a sweater that looks appropriately your size. Seeing as she’s busy searching, you bend down and pick up Sergio instead, lavishing him with the attention Emily is withholding.

“Emily can be so mean, huh, Serg?” You whisper, scratching behind the cat’s ears. He melts into a purring puddle in your arms, yellow eyes slitting closed. “She bullies you into doing whatever she wants, and she does it with the prettiest brown eyes you can’t ever say no to.” You cuddle Sergio to your chest as Emily turns, a smile playing on her lips and a sweater held in her hand.

“I heard all of that.”

“Aw, damn it,” you blow a melodramatic sigh, “even the part about your pretty eyes?”

A light blush stains her cheeks pink. “Everything.” She shoves the sweater into your chest, above Sergio. The cat meows in protest and you laugh, throwing the sweater over your shoulder and letting him down.

——

You can’t even reach the ladle.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna need my arms.” The smile is audible in your voice.

You can’t pretend not to love this. Ever since you came out of the bathroom wearing Emily’s sweater, she’s been wrapped around you like a vine. The sweater itself is warm and comfortable, smelling faintly of her, and it brings with it a noticeable bonus: Emily’s clinginess. 

Her head is buried in your neck now, her arms wrapped around you and trapping your arms to your sides.

“Is it a matter of utmost importance?” She murmurs into your neck. A small kiss is dropped there, her soft lips brushing against your skin.

“Afraid so.” 

Emily sighs. She loosens her grip and frees your arms just enough that you can scoop the pancake batter into the pan. When a perfect circle starts to sizzle, bubbles popping along its edge, you turn to face the brunette holding you hostage.

Her arms wrap around your neck and she immediately presses her body into yours. You grin as you hug her back, one of your hands sliding into her mussed hair.

“Anybody ever tell you you’re clingy?” You whisper, your voice teasing as you brush a kiss on her hairline.

“Never.” Emily’s voice is muffled into the collar of your sweater.

The pancake starts to smell, so you turn carefully with Emily still in your arms and free one of your hands to flip it. It’s a darker brown, evidently showing your neglect.

“So you’re just like this with me?” You stroke her hair, twirling a dark strand around your finger. Emily nuzzles deeper into your neck, apparently trying to crawl under your skin.

“Mhm. You look good in my clothes.” She turns her head and her lips catch the edge of your jaw.

“So that’s what this is about,” you laugh, sliding the overcooked pancake off the griddle and onto a plate. Emily’s hands sneak under the hem of your—her—sweater, and you feel her lips turn up in a smile as she hums.

“It’s just a small part of it,” she admits quietly, turning her head to watch you scoop out another pancake onto the pan.

“La razón principal es porque te amo.”

You don’t understand what she says, but with her soft voice and tender touches, the message comes across more than clear. Squeezing her waist, you kiss her brow.

“I love you too.”

taglist: @suckerforcate

[winterbuckwild]

Long distance truck driver Eddie passes through the small town of Hawkins every few weeks on a regular run, always stopping at the truck stop there to rest and go to the diner. He would have to make up the driving hours since he technically had loads left on the clock but he had to see his Angel.

Diner waiter Steve works at the truck stop all the hours that he can so that he can leave his parents house. Ever since they caught him with a boy behind the ice cream place he'd worked at before he was strictly monitored, forced to check in multiple times a day so they knew he wasn't getting up to anything "unnatural".

His friends had all left town for college, even his best friend who he spoke to less and less each passing week as she settled into a life without him and he felt about as alone as one person could ever feel.

Except for a day or two every couple of weeks when a certain truck rolls through. He gets to spend the whole night with Eddie, refilling his coffee and talking with the man he was pretty sure he had fallen in love with over the course of the last year. He lapped up the stories from the road that he knew were embellished and the other mans soft attention. He loved them as much as the dimpled grin and the purring cadence of his voice.

"If I asked you to run away with me next time, Stevie, would you?" He'd said one night, his normally animated face serious after Steve had done his last check in by phone.

So Steve was waiting, duffle bag of belongings by his feet outside the diner, his breath clouding up the winter air as he saw familiar headlights crest the hill next to the truck stop.

He grinned as the huge vehicle glided to a stop in front of him, a familiar mop of curly soft hair behind the wheel. His new home was small and it would be a tight squeeze but he didn't mind.

He wouldn't be alone again.

[wifeyoozi]

kinktober week 1.3 - semi-public sex

nerdy whore - j.ww (semi-public, degradation, subwonu, slight cum eating)

The library was always the perfect place for Wonwoo. Quiet, secluded, and filled with rows and rows of books, it was his sanctuary. He could escape into his own world, whether that was through textbooks or something a little more risqué when he was sure no one else was around. There was something comforting about being surrounded by knowledge while indulging in his secret pleasures.

Lately, though, Wonwoo’s reading habits had shifted. Sure, he still buried himself in textbooks and academic journals, but he’d developed a habit of sneaking off to the furthest corner of the library to read smut novels. Not just any kind of smut, though—he was particularly fond of the ones where the man was the submissive partner, being used and degraded by someone else. The idea made his heart race in a way that nothing else did. He was hooked on the humiliation, the power dynamic.

But today was different.

Today, Wonwoo wasn’t in the library to read.

Instead, he found himself pressed up against the far back wall, hidden behind towering shelves, with his legs splayed out in front of him. The rough carpet of the library floor scratched his skin through his clothes, but he hardly noticed. He was far too focused on you—straddling his lap, your hands gripping his shoulders as you rocked your hips against him. His cock was buried deep inside you, and you moved with a steady, relentless rhythm that had him biting his lip to keep from making any noise.

The library was technically empty, but there was always the risk that someone could wander in at any moment. That only heightened the tension for him, made the sensation of you using his body even more intense.

“You’re such a good boy, aren’t you, Wonwoo?” you whispered, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear as you teased him, your voice dripping with condescension. “Sitting here like the little slut you are, letting me ride your cock like it’s all you’re good for.”

Wonwoo’s face flushed a deep red at your words, his hands gripping your thighs as you bounced on top of him. He loved the way you talked to him like this, the way you made him feel small and submissive. His heart was pounding in his chest, not just from the pleasure but from the fear that someone might walk in at any second and catch him being used like this.

His breath came out in ragged gasps, and he tried to hold back the whimpers that threatened to spill from his lips. He knew the library was usually empty during this hour of the day, but the thought of someone catching him in this humiliating position made his cock throb even harder inside you.

You laughed softly, noticing how desperate he was becoming. “You like that, don’t you? You like being my little slut, don’t you, Wonwoo?”

He nodded weakly, biting his lip as his eyes fluttered closed. The degrading words you whispered in his ear sent shivers down his spine, making his body feel like it was on fire.

“I asked you a question,” you said more sharply, your hand coming up to grip his chin, forcing him to look at you. “Answer me.”

“Y-yes,” Wonwoo stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His mind was foggy with pleasure, but he still managed to choke out the words you wanted to hear. “I love it.”

You smirked down at him, your hips grinding down harder against him, making him groan. “That’s what I thought,” you purred, running your fingers through his hair before yanking his head back slightly. “Such a pathetic little nerd, getting off to me treating you like trash. I bet you’d love it if someone walked in right now, wouldn’t you? You’d love for them to see you being used like the little slut you are.”

Wonwoo’s entire body tensed at the thought, his cock twitching inside you. He shook his head, trying to deny it, but the way his body responded told a different story.

“Oh, don’t lie,” you taunted, grinding down on him harder, the slickness between your thighs making every movement more sinful, more obscene. “You’d love it if someone saw you like this, wouldn’t you? All fucked out and helpless, taking whatever I give you.”

“N-no,” he gasped, though his voice trembled with uncertainty, as if even he didn’t believe what he was saying.

You laughed darkly, leaning in closer to whisper against his ear. “Liar.”

The word sent a shiver down his spine, an d before he could respond, you lifted your hips slightly, pulling almost completely off his cock before slamming back down on him, making his head fall back against the wall with a soft thud. His eyes squeezed shut, and he bit down hard on his bottom lip to stifle the moan that threatened to spill out.

“Look at you,” you continued, your voice low and dripping with contempt. “Such a mess already, and we’ve only just started. You’re such a good little toy for me, Wonwoo. Always so obedient, always so desperate.”

His chest heaved with every breath, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears that he could barely think straight. You had him completely at your mercy, and he loved every second of it.

“I-I’m trying,” he whispered, his voice shaking with both pleasure and fear. His hands gripped your hips tightly as he tried to focus on the sensation of you riding him, the overwhelming pleasure building inside him with each movement.

“You’re pathetic,” you spat, your voice sharp and cutting. “Can’t even fuck me properly, can you? You’re just sitting here, letting me do all the work while you sit there like a dumb little nerd. Is this what you dream about when you’re reading all those filthy novels in the back of the library? Being used like this?”

Wonwoo’s eyes shot open at your words, his face flushing an even deeper shade of red. You knew about that? His secret indulgence, the smutty novels he read when no one was around, the ones that always ended with the man on the bottom, being degraded and used like a — you knew?

“Y-you… how did you know?” he stammered, his voice breathless as he stared up at you in shock.

You smirked, tightening your grip on his shoulders as you leaned down to whisper in his ear again. “I’ve seen you, Wonwoo. I’ve seen you hiding in the back with your face buried in those dirty books. You’re so obvious. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

His mind was spinning, the humiliation of being caught mixing with the intense pleasure of your body moving against his. His cock twitched inside you, betraying just how much your words were turning him on.

“You’re such a little pervert,” you continued, your tone mocking as you ground down harder on him, making him whimper. “Reading all those dirty books, getting off to the thought of someone using you like this. Well, now you get to live out your fantasy, isn’t that right?”

Wonwoo could only nod, his head spinning with pleasure and shame. His hands gripped your hips harder as he tried to focus on holding back the orgasm that was quickly building inside him. He didn’t want this to end yet—not when you were using him like this, treating him like he was nothing more than a toy for your pleasure.

“Such a good little slut,” you praised, your voice dripping with mock affection as you continued to ride him. “You love it, don’t you? Being used like this, treated like trash. You’re my good little slut, aren’t you, Wonwoo?”

“Y-yes,” he gasped, his voice barely audible as he struggled to keep his composure. “I’m your slut. Please…”

“Please what?” you asked, a wicked grin spreading across your face as you stared down at him. “What do you want, Wonwoo? Do you want to cum?”

He nodded desperately, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “Please… please let me cum.”

But you only smirked, leaning down to brush your lips against his ear again. “Not yet,” you whispered, your voice dark and teasing. “You don’t get to cum until I say so.”

A whimper escaped his lips as he bucked his hips up toward you, desperate for more stimulation. His entire body was trembling with the effort of holding back, his cock twitching helplessly inside you.

“Please…” he begged, his voice breaking as he stared up at you with wide, pleading eyes. “I can’t hold it…”

“You’ll hold it,” you commanded, your voice firm as you continued to ride him. “You don’t get to cum yet, Wonwoo. You’re going to wait until I tell you to. Understand?”

He nodded weakly, his entire body tense with the effort of holding back his release. His hands gripped your hips so tightly that his knuckles were turning white, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

The fear of being caught still hung in the air, amplifying the intensity of every movement, every word. His heart pounded in his chest as he fought to hold back, his entire body trembling with the effort.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you leaned down to press a soft kiss against his lips, your voice soft and teasing as you whispered, “Now.”

The moment the word left your lips, Wonwoo’s entire body tensed, his cock twitching violently inside you as he came with a loud, desperate moan. His release was immediate, hot and thick, spilling inside you as his body shook with the force of his orgasm.

You rode him through it, milking every last drop from him as he collapsed back ln the wall, his eyes shut as he tried to catch your dress. You lifted yourself off him, two fingers collecting Wonwoo's cum beneath yourself. "Open," you ordered, and watched Wonwoo follow without questioning, taking your fingers in his mouth and tasting his own cum. You pushed your fingers to the back of his throat, watching where his gag reflex stops you.

"Good boy," you giggle as you get up, using Wonwoo's handkerchief to wipe between your legs, before pulling back on your panties and adjusting down your skirt. "I'll meet you here again tomorrow, nerd."

[doctorho]

dripping velvet, purring dark

Academy era Viktor x fem! curvy reader, 4.5k, no warnings only love in this house (ok there is a conversation about some people being idiots which can be interpreted as the reader getting unwanted attention at a party but it's nothing graphic or anything i promise and no-one is mean to her) also i made viktor horny and slightly subby because that's what the gremlins in my brain wanted. you're welcome. yeah! hi! not sure what this is, but here you go. the reader is described as she/her here (and curvy, and soft, and she is wearing an evening gown, because i wanted to think about pretty dresses). idk. have a thing. happy friday.

Viktor likes to think of himself as a person who's usually capable of focusing on things pretty well. On the task at hand. Give him a faulty circuit and he'll poke at it long enough to find the broken component, no problem. An error in the calculations? He'll find that missing minus sign or forgotten exponent, easy. He'll strip a wire in his sleep.

The task at hand now, though? The problem?

He had to sit through a whole evening of presentations at the academy end-of-year party, put on a polite face for the investors, and pretend not to care that one idiot after another was lining up to flirt with you while he was watching from the sidelines. You were wearing a dress that felt sinful to look at, and there was something primitive gnawing at the inside of his chest begging to be let out, and he had to just stand there and nod through the conversations, pretend he wasn't slowly boiling from the inside out.

And he was failing miserably. 

He’d known he was in trouble from the moment he saw you that night – all expensive fabric covering smooth curves and soft-looking skin, sparkling eyes and easy smiles, and he’d been done for. Before this, it’d been much easier to compartmentalize his feelings; before this, it'd been easier to ignore them. 

Before he’d kept his distance, emotionally and physically speaking, because, well, it’d been easier. He'd seen you around the Academy, all bubbling laughs and raw-honest radiant smiles and confident solutions, and he'd known that you looked…appealing, but he wasn't in the habit of holding up any illusions about what you might think of him in return. His place was in the dark dusty corner of the lab, turning over the ever-ticking problems, while you were out there shining like the sun. And sometimes you came by the lab, with new ideas or suggestions or just to borrow some equipment or ask about a shipment, and he had resigned to his role of staying at his desk pretending he wasn't burning to be closer to your orbit. 

But when he sees you in the low lighting of the party, leaning to the bar and laughing, something just breaks in him. And then he can’t pretend to ignore it any longer. And sure, maybe he’s a little bit drunk, it was easier to stand these events that way, but it still feels like a solid-honest truth in his bones that he wanted to get closer to you, and suddenly he couldn’t stand the conversation he was in the middle of. Because one of them – the sour idiots he’d catalogued in his head for the whole night, the stupid people trying to impress you with their embellished stories and inherited wealth who weren’t worth your time – one of them was circling you like a hyena again, smiling.

You were wearing a dark, floor-length gown that wasn’t, on a purely technical level, much different from what about 50% of the other guests were wearing. However, it seemed to create a significant caveat that even though there wasn’t anything indecent in the dress itself, seeing it on you made him feel like maybe he shouldn’t look at you for too long or he might spontaneously combust. There was a slit on the side that revealed a more than generous amount of leg when you walked, and his focus kept wandering from that to your silhouette, the soft curve of your hips, your chest, your face – no, that’s worse, don’t stare, she'll notice – and truly, he had to force himself to keep his eyes at least vaguely on the vicinity of the person who was currently talking to him. Something about statistics and return investment. Yes. 

He nods, pretending to look interested.

The dress drapes over your hips in soft little cascades, the fabric shimmering lightly as you moved, and something in his brain was itching, begging to run his fingers over it, to know what it feels like, to know what you feel like under it, all soft and warm and pliable under his fingers, and preferably sighing something into the crook of his neck, and–

“We'd like to get our investment back within a year,” the guy that's talking to him says – Viktor can't even remember his name, and he doesn’t really even care – and he just shifts his eyes back to the guy slowly. 

“A year?” he repeats, with the barest amount of feigned interest, and the guy goes off in a whole new tangent. Viktor shifts his posture, and lets his eyes glide over to where you were again. 

One of those idiots, one he thankfully doesn’t have the displeasure of knowing personally but who must be the son of some crooked diplomat, says something to you and you scoff through a smile, roll your eyes, and lean further into the counter at the bar. Viktor has to pretend to be present for his own conversation – yes, the new coating material for the wires was more heat-resistant, no, there was still the issue of mechanical stress, they were working on it – and you say something in answer to the current idiot (third of the night, he’d counted), and it is killing him that he doesn’t know what it is. 

You’d turned down the first two, from what he could tell. But this latest idiot was still talking to you, like he was in any way entitled to your company. And it's making something inside Viktor raise its hackles, and he doesn’t especially like feeling like that, because he couldn't justify feeling like that to himself in any tangible way, and then it all just boiled down to a resigned even if she deserves better than that i have no business dictating that for her. 

He's just about to focus on the conversation he was supposedly participating in again when something happens. He can't make out the details, but imbecile number three seems to lean way too close to you, says something, and smiles in a way that makes something cold creep down the back of Viktor's neck. And your expression coldens, too, and you say something to him, and turn away, more rigid than you'd been the whole evening. 

“Excuse me,” Viktor is saying to the Investment Guy before he can fully think it through, his own voice feeling distant in his ears, and then he's walking to the bar. 

You're alone – the idiot had had the sense to leave you alone quickly, at least. That's good. Viktor isn't sure what he's doing, but then he's leaning to the bar next to you and ordering another drink and trying to look like he isn't thinking too hard about what to do next. 

“Whatever he just proposed to you,” Viktor says slowly, looking over the bar instead of directly at you, “I assure you you can do better.”

He can hear you take a deep breath, shift a little, and sigh it out with what sounded like almost a laugh. 

“Yeah,” you agree, “I don't know what it is about people like that that makes them think they can just…” You sigh again, and make a hand gesture towards the room. ”You know.”

“Unfortunately,” he answers, resigned, “yes. I do.” 

He gets his drink and thanks the bartender, and then leans to the counter too, mimicking your posture, holding the drink and letting it swirl around in his glass. “Have you talked with anyone actually worth your time tonight?” 

You hmm. Then, “there was a little girl earlier that told me some fascinating things about insect metamorphosis.” You say casually. 

And Viktor laughs. Without meaning to, he laughs, and you smile in response, visibly relaxing a little.

“I don't think she was on the guest list though.” You continue. 

He hums in response, and rearranges his grip on the handle of his cane. “Sounds much more interesting than the conversations I've been in tonight.”

“I know,” you answer, and he can hear the smile in your voice, “you think we could swap out one of the main speakers with her?” 

He hmms again, looking over the stage thoughtfully. “I think it would count as a public service,” he nods a little, considering the list of speakers yet to come, “what do you think, who'd be a good target?”

You shift in your place, looking over the same list of speakers, plastered over the walls on both sides of the stage. “The financial talk,” you answer, “Mr. Ross. I'd much rather listen to insect facts than another boring talk about investing.”

Viktor nods. “You distract him, I'll whack him unconscious?” he offers, and you laugh. You laugh, and it warms something in him. 

“And then what?” you continue, still smiling, and he has to look away to keep his composure. 

He shrugs. “Eh,” he answers, “we drag him to a bathtub somewhere and act like he just passed out there?" He shrugs, "I happen to know three ways to get out of this room that I'm pretty sure we could use unnoticed.”

“Uh-huh,” you answer, “and then we just find the girl and ask her if she wants to talk about bugs for half an hour. Easy.”

“Exactly,” he agrees, “and then we congratulate ourselves for making the evening better for everybody.”

"Except maybe Mr. Ross."

"No," he counters, looking over the crowd, "I think he would prefer a nice little nap. Surely not even he wants to hear himself talk all the time." He takes a sip of his drink, "and I think waking up in a bathtub would be a nice change of pace to the rumors of other places he seems to have a habit of waking up in after events such as these."

“Good point,” you shift in your place, settling to lean to the counter a bit closer to him. “Perfect plan. But why'd you get to whack him unconscious and not me?”

Viktor blinks. Lifts one eyebrow. “Because you are by far more distracting than I am,” he answers, “and I thought the plan could use the distraction.”

“I don't think that's true,” you answer, “I think you're plenty distracting on your own.”

Now, he lets himself look at you. Really, properly look at you, and not even half-trying to hide it. You're smiling now, shoulders relaxed, holding your drink with fingers wrapped loosely around it, and in the warm lights of the bar there's a golden glow on your skin, and something breathless at the bottom of his stomach is aching to get closer to you, to touch you, to see if his hand would fit on your waist as well as he thinks it would, to see how you would react to that, if he could make you smile in a different way, what sounds he could get you to make for him–

“Agree to disagree,” he says, averts his eyes, and takes a sip of his drink. 

Tries to tell that wild-hungry purring thing in him to behave. 

Someone reasonable comes to talk to you – and it's about work, which is…something, probably, he has to stop himself from thinking it's better than those earlier idiots, because who's he to decide that for you? He gives you a casual wave and a nod as you depart with a smile and get swept up in the conversation about new ideas and solutions and this-new-thing you've been looking at. And he watches as you start talking excitedly, all golden and glittering, easy conversation and confident smiles, and quietly (not-so quietly) he concludes that maybe you hadn't had many worthwhile conversations with any of the guests that night because you were the most worthwhile person in there to talk to. 

He stays there sipping his drink and wondering what would be the closest appropriate time to slip out. He'd made an appearance, and technically nothing could be expected from him beyond that point. Sure, Jayce might tell him he could've stayed a bit longer, he could use the support, but nothing dramatic would happen. 

The party drones on, and he makes no effort to move – and really, he tries not to think about it too much, but that was at least in part because he wanted to keep looking at you. He promptly ignores this, even when you're laughing at something someone else said and that heavy-dark-purring something at the bottom of his stomach doesn't like it very much. 

Someone comes to ask for his opinion on something, and with a tiny sigh, he lets them pull him into the loop of conversations again. Yes, we are trying to simplify the design, no we can't cut back from the materials, they are what they are for a reason. 

Somewhere around his third ‘Why would you think that?’ of that particular conversation, he's had enough. People were stupid, and he's had enough. He's just trying to come up with ways to get out of the conversation preferably without starting a scandal of some sort, when he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turns around to look at who it belongs to, and then everything in his head is quiet for a moment. 

“Hey,” you say, smiling, “sorry to interrupt, but can I steal you away for a moment?” you ask, slipping your hand feather-light down his arm, and he has to suppress a shiver. 

Viktor furrows his brows and opens his mouth, and then, like an idiot, says nothing. But he turns to leave, thankful for the window of opportunity.  

“You remember that thing we talked about before?” you continue as you steer him away from the earlier group smoothly, “I found someone who's interested in those three escape routes you had up your sleeve.” 

“Who?” he asks, because that's the only thing he can think of. You've linked your arm with his, and you're leaning on him, and you're soft and warm and you smell good, and he doesn’t trust his ability to form a full sentence. 

“Me,” you answer, “and judging by how you just looked out there,” you continue, “you.”

Viktor swallows, and something in his brain purrs at the idea. 

“This way,” he says, nodding towards an old stage exit, and honestly, he doesn’t even care why you want to leave, he's just grateful for the distraction and the company and drinking in every warm square inch of skin contact that you're willing to give him, even if it is just walking with your shoulder pressed against his. 

If it turned out to be a plot where you actually wanted to whack someone unconscious, he'd worry about that later. For now he was just happy to leave, and happier that you were leaving with him. 

It's easy to slip away from the crowd, and into the space between the stage curtain and the wall, if you know where you're going. You effortlessly fall a bit further from his side but keep his hand on yours, letting him pull you along, and quietly he wonders how and why and holy shit. He decides not to question it though, and keeps walking through the dim space between the cold old wall and the cascades of warm heavy velvet curtains. 

“Do you want to leave the party,” he asks, voice quiet now that the background buzz of people was muffled by the curtain, “or just get away from it?” 

You hmm behind him, clearly through a smile, and he makes the mistake of looking back at you. Surrounded by the dark red velvet curtains and only slivers of light from each side, his head – and the rest of his body – get entirely the wrong idea of what you're doing in there, because you look like a goddess in the small dim space, and he might crumble into ashes if he keeps looking at you, or he might do something stupid like pull you closer and press you into the wall, to see if your eyes would widen, if you'd gasp from the cold wall, if he could find other ways to make you gasp–

so he turns his eyes away and keeps talking. 

He quickly finds he has to clear his throat before he can do that. “There is a staff entrance that goes past the kitchen a little ways further,” he says, and motions forwards, “or there is a disused indoor balcony surrounding the stage. You would be able to see the party, but it'd feel…removed.”

You lean closer, close enough that when your voice is muffled by the surrounding velvet, it feels like you're speaking right in his ear, and he has to swallow and remind himself that that's just situational coincidence, nothing more. 

“Why do you know so many ways to get out of here?” you ask, “You sneak out a lot?” 

“I am a fan of interesting architecture,” he answers, “and not as much a fan of pretentious social gatherings.” 

“Fair,” you answer, then lean your chin on his shoulder, and he feels like his spine might spontaneously melt. “In your expertise, what would you recommend?”

“Well,” he says, trying to make it sound casual and like he wasn't breathless at all, “I think the balcony has some fairly interesting architecture.” And the lights of the party would look pretty from there. And you'd both get a breather away from the crowd. And he'd get to keep talking to you a little bit longer. And, as selfish as the thought felt, he couldn't deny it; he'd get to keep having you to himself for a little bit longer. 

“Show me the balcony,” you smile, and he obliges. Happily, he obliges. So he pulls you into a narrow staircase, and then, up. 

At the end of it there is a room that could, only by technical definition alone, be called a balcony – it was more like a hole carved into the wall, having at some point been used for seating or equipment space at events and concerts, and now just served as half-forgotten extra storage. It had, he supposed, once upon a time looked like the banquet hall did, all smooth surfaces and warm lights and thematically switched-out decorations, but now it was mostly the standard red velvet and dark wood and light marble, forgotten by the party and some of the golden light from the hall spilling into it by pure coincidence. There were velvet curtains on each side of the room, and you drop his hand to go look over the railing, and down at the party. 

His hand instantly feels cold without yours in it, but he tries his best to ignore this, and follows you to look down at the party, too. 

It looks much smaller from up there. Less chaotic. 

“I didn't know there was a space like this here.” You say quietly, “can they see us?” 

“Part of the design,” he answers, “you're not supposed to notice these spaces unless people want you to. Good place to hide extra orchestra pieces and make it feel like the sound is coming from nowhere. And–” he looks over at the people, colorful and mingling, “no, they can't. Not unless you want them to.” Then, he smiles, just a little. “But they'll be able to hear us, if we direct our voices upwards and wait for things to quiet down there first.”

You turn to look at him. 

“Sloped ceilings,” he explains with a shrug, “again, good for a hidden orchestra accompaniment.” 

“But they can't hear us talking?*

“Not over themselves,” he answers, “ironic, I know.”

You hum thoughtfully and turn around, with your back to the railing, and then you look at him and he needs to kick his brain back in line. You were gorgeous in the dim lighting, all relaxed and smiling, and–

He grips the handle of his cane a little tighter. 

“Good,” you say, and the way you say it – all quiet and warm and liquid – makes something in him purr again, entirely against his better judgement. 

“Why is it good?” he asks, because he has to hold on to some semblance of logic here, because otherwise he might just vaporize out into the atmosphere. 

“Why do you think?” you ask, slowly turning to face him, and oh that just isn't fair. You're just there, just a warm breath of space away, all soft and pretty and languid–

He doesn’t know what to say, so he goes with what feels like the safest course of action. 

“In case we want to plot any more ways to violently derail the evening's program?”

You exhale a small laugh and lean back. 

And then you lift a hand on his chest, and he's pretty sure his heart might be overheating soon. 

“Sure,” you answer, “that.” You inch closer, and Viktor is having a hard time remembering how to breathe. “Or anything else we might not want them overhearing.”

“Like?” He exhales, careful not to break the moment, and then you smile, warm and private and for him, and his insides liquify into warm, honey-thick goo, and oh, he’s not going to recover from this. 

“Like,” you repeat slowly, and then you push yourself away from the balcony railing, just slightly, into the side of the wall covered by the velvet curtain, and he lets you pull him with you, he's not stupid. His brain – along with the rest of his body – might be in the process of actively melting, but he's not stupid. If you wanted to pull him into a shadowed, velvet-covered corner, he would follow no questions asked, especially on a night like this when his insides were buzzing and you looked like that. When you looked at him like that. You smile again, and stop moving when your back hits a wall, and then you pull him just close enough to whisper into his ear. “...Anything else we might not want them overhearing.” you repeat, and, yeah, Viktor is close to becoming the best documented case of human combustion in recorded history. 

In the dim lighting, he searches your eyes into his, and you watch him, waiting, radiating heat between him and the velvet-covered wall. He's not sure why you were acting like this, but all signs were pointing towards you wanting the same thing he did, and he's not sure what he did to get this lucky, but with his every cell buzzing and vibrating and keening over to get closer, he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass. 

He wants to ask ‘why me’ or ‘are you sure’ but what comes out is a broken, desperate whisper of a “can I touch you?”, and you answer with a grin and with your fingers tangled to the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

“Yes,” you breathe, “please.”

And really, he wouldn't have thought it would be so simple, but it's the please that does him in – just one whispered word and his brain short-circuits in an overflowing flash of white-hot need. Need to trigger that again, need to please, and need to finally give in to the pleasure waiting to boil. And then it all comes rushing out; the hunger. 

His hands are on your waist in an instant, and his cane clatters to the ground as he leans his weight on you and the wall and for a moment, he has the sense to hope the curtains don't come tumbling down, and they don't, which is good enough for him, because then he can let go of that particular worry and focus solely on finding your lips to his and making the most of every second of this that you're willing to give him. 

The sensations hit his brain like flashes of bright light; how soft you are under his fingers, like he'd hoped, the fabric smooth and silky, giving away easily under his touch. How warm you are, warm and breathing in a fluttered little gasp, the dusty old velvet mixing in with your sweet scent, and then when he gets his lips on you–

After that it's just golden-dark-velvet-honey-thick bliss. You breathe out a small sound that drips down his spinal cord and goes straight to the purring pit at the bottom of his stomach, and he swallows it with a hungry, greedy, desperate groan that comes from somewhere deep inside his chest, and his head is swimming with warm and real and soft and for me–

He is happily overloading his brain with this, and he doesn’t even care. He presses closer to you and you exhale another sweet little sound that makes him bare his teeth, and then his lips are on your neck and he doesn’t know anything except that he wants you to keep making those sounds and he likes the way your hands tangle in his hair and tug. 

“Tell me what you want,” he mutters to the skin of your neck, pulling you closer by the waist, and absolutely relishing in the way your chest rises and falls with short little pants he can hear you take in and out. In and out, and as he tugs at your waist again, just a bit closer, and drags his teeth against your pulse lightly, one of those exhales turns into a sweet little whine. 

He grins against your skin. 

He doesn’t waste the time or energy pretending he isn't an absolute mess over you, right now – his own breathing ragged and fast and his heart hammering in his ears, his whole body buzzing with want – but that didn't mean seeing you react that way didn't make him want to purr. 

Didn't make his insides heat up with I did that. I got her like this. She made that sound for me. For me. It's mine. 

You take a breath, slow and rugged, and then you tug him towards one of the velvet-covered seats. And he moves like he's floating, letting you guide him, because what else is he going to do? You tug him into the seat and he sits on it, gladly, and stays there looking up at you with his eyes wide and only half-lidded and his heart hammering, waiting for more. 

You give him another one of those small, private, knowing smiles, your eyes hazy, and then you step to stand right in front of him. 

And then you hover over him, just waiting for him to pull you into his lap. He does, because he is selfish and greedy and burning, and he's pretty sure he's going to implode if he doesn’t get that delicious pressure on him soon, and his hand fits your waist perfectly, and then when when you do straddle him, your hips pressing down on his, he whines. He lets out a breathless little whine, he can feel it in the base of his spine, and it makes that hunger in him want more. 

“Only the voices directed upwards travel down there, right?” you ask, voice quiet and dripping right into his ear and pooling at the bottom of his stomach. 

He swallows. “Yes.” 

You hum thoughtfully, and press your body closer to his, all soft and warm and perfect, sinking your lips down to his neck and he shivers, instinctually tilting back his head with a sigh, exposing more of his neck to you. 

“Better keep quiet, then.” 

[obxsprincess]

imagining mattheo and bratty, girly kitty reader because she deserves a tiara

🎀₊˚ʚ ᗢ🐈‍⬛₊˚✧ ﾟ.

your the slytherin princess, all prissy meow, no claw. every single one of the slytherin boys would do really anything for you really, your dark whiskery lashes, and sweet purry voice — they always make sure your safe n sound. though they’ll always do the same for pansy, your bestfriend, they treated you like overbearing older brothers, cus your all of theirs little sweet spot. which is all nice n all until mattheo recruits all of his “brothers” (they five jokingly call eachother) to watch you like eagles if he leaves to get you one of those fruity drinks you love sipping on, dumbly unaware mattheos been giving you sheryl temples the whole party. they all just pray you keep your mean little complaints to your boyfriend, who technically told them to watch you — even they are scared of your bratty ferocious switch. (which even just convinced youve been drinking can trigger, frighteningly)

but whilst all of them protect you, its mattheos whos name you would wear on a pink collar. instead you settled with a fluttery eye roll, for the shiny gold necklace with his full name printed on the little shiny heart! — always sitting between your pushed up breasts. the curly haired brunette does keep the collar as a mental note though. future reference — and also to make you happy. he really does hate admitting but your too cute to say no too — trying not to make it too obvious its because he loves you. which you definitely does, admits it every single time you give him that candy rotting tail-swinging smile.

your his fake eyelashed kitty, and he throws it in every guys face wherever you two go — whether its grabbing your waist arrogantly while you walk ditsily down the halls, cheekily unaware of all the thirsty stares stuck on your plushy hips. or you wiggling in your seat, pussy all sticky, pouting because the throbbings so much its practically purring — doing it just so your all over him, whining and mewling, in front of whoever he pleases. he loves showing you off, but mattheo definitely could do without your bullshit excuse of fashion — or merely the lack of. cus you were not shy showing off your body. you loved making things prettier ! the ‘stylized’ slytherin skirt proudly showing half your heart shaped ass, you just loved the freedom it gave you to pounce around. most of the time, mattheo had to block the view of your frilly underwear flashing when you bend down, all oblivious to the nice pantied cunt eye full he gets. “m’flexible see matty!” huffing with a frustrated breath, “yea yea, guess so kitty — y’stay stretched like that for a good few minutes… s’good for your back or something like that” he unashamedly always takes a peak n your usually to obvious to even notice, too busy giving him your triumphant scrunch.

it’s a complete understantment to say you bounce on him like a cat to a mouse — so teary eyed and cotton panties soaked if you get a glimpse of his biceps or even just his raspy morning voice has something pretty achy n purring, your ghost whiskers twitching. (his back is always covered in your pink french nailed claw marks </3) he fucking hates but does with your whiny fits. trying to satisy his need to taste you between your sqeezing thighs and all you do is moan for his cock. only after cumming three times on mattheos greedy muscle do you shut up — not like he’ll ever complain, he’d never stop fucking into your pretty soppy heat if he had the choice. now when your being too needy, or bugging him as if he can bend you over right there in class, he has no problem sending you off what a swat to the ass n a growl to meet him on his bed, he deals with your neediness. n your always eager to oblige — all fours n pussy up. how else does he take out his anger but in you, on you?

being the girly princess you are I feel like you’d be a cheerleader too! mattheo the star seeker and you his excitedly cheering (kitty) bimbo — hes only ok with your cute tail like swinging ass showing when your squealing his name for the whole school to hear. telling you your his lucky charm, sparkly eyeshadow forever messy when he pulls you into the locker room with him. “you know it’s real hard being a seeker when I cant take my eyes off you, damn look at you baby girl — I’ve already found everything I ever need princess,” mattheos no doubt a slut for cheesy romance before rearranging your guts.

mattheos also your personal purse. except with a lot less frilly pink designs — and you also don’t wanna jump and ride a normal purse into complete bliss. but still! his hands are always full, either with your glossy lipgloss to reapply every five minutes to your puffy lips, pink coverups/sweaters that you toss of abruptly cus they get too hot, or in his perverted needs, offering to hold ‘his girls’ with a mischievous smirk — cus if only takes a little convincing to your pretty head to have you compliant to his shameless, pussy whipped, self, and sometimes they do hurt real bad. mattheos such a good boyfriend ! leaning you back mewling so he can take care them off your hands.

overall you can tell him off whenever needs be. (only you, n you only can tell the son of voldemort to knock it off n not get hurt dcbgyhyf) mattheo even sometimes tries to be extra teasing, which is mean in your glaring lashed kitty eyes — ogling when you bare your verbal fangs n hiss he gets instantly hard at the sight. mattheo still arrogantly remembers the time you beat of an overly flirty raven claw girl, his sweetheart, cat clawing a overstepping bitch — he had to stop himself from cumming right then and there. coyly letting you to kitty lick it right off <3 mattys just as much yours as your his.

. 🎀₊˚ʚ ᗢ🐈‍⬛₊˚✧ ﾟ.

[colourstreakgryffin]

AS PROMISED I HAVE COME BACK WITH A REQUEST IN MIND. AND YES IT IS HUSK RELATED (≧∇≦)/

so you know how cats come to you immediately when you say 'pspspspsppspspsps'? yeah, that. but with husk (๑˃̵　ᴗ　˂̵)و

look at the cute little miao miao with his popcorn ≧﹏≦

Big definitely doing this. Ommgg! That pic is so precious! Husk canonically hates his cat traits but not today, beloved! Anyway. Let’s get going and play around with Husk some more! Sorry, this is a bit short!

Husk- Pootie-Kitty

It’s so unbelievably cute… the soft purring, the fur ruffling

You respect the fact your boyfriend despises his sinner form’s domesticated cat traits and the cat anatomy he is cursed with for all of time but you can’t help yourself. You know you should stay back and you know you shouldn’t do what he dislikes…

But then again, Husk is also not as mad about being extremely cat-like at your hand as compared to any other person he knows, trying to make him behave like the feline he is

“Husky! Husky! Pspspspspspspsp~!” After a few silent painful minutes of absolutely nothing whilst walking through the empty but colourful and magnificent hallways of the Hazbin Hotel, both yours and your boyfriend’s workplace, you decide to use the classic cat call to see if Husk will come out

Himself and his ‘owner’, Alastor had a big fight over being contracted to him only a little while before and it caused Husk to hide away, out of pure utter rage and a pinch of fear over how bad the confrontation ended. Husk hasn’t come out from wherever he is for hours now. It’s already nighttime and you want to bring him to the bedroom to clock out for the night

You decided to let him have some time alone but it’s been way too long and it’s becoming concerning

He hasn’t given even a single bit of response to you, despite after you begun tinkling beer bottles, cooing out his name, offering him his favourite; snuggles if he comes out. Everything that usually has Husk approaching you at the speed of light. He isn’t for it, just making your concern for him grow even firmer

He isn’t listening… so, you’re going to have pull out the big guns!

“Hussskyy~! Pspspspspspspsssppspsps! Come here, baby”

You aren’t sure where he came from or where he was but after a few more seconds, you paused in place in the middle of quite the long hallway of this redemption building and spoke out to literally the air. Husk came padding out from around the corner in a somewhat hasty pace, his cute originally sharply-thin black pupils of his glowing golden yellow irises are now wide and rounded, his tall tip-fluffed ears drawn back like his big perked-up wings, as if curious about what you’re going to do next

Just like a normal cat, Husk’s quickly padding over to you right after hearing the ‘psspspsps’ calls, as if a lightbulb was switched on for him, in a manner he could not stop. His hearing is quite strong, even at his technically elderly human-age, and whilst he could hear your voice from his little hiding spot clear as day

He didn’t want you to see him in his most weakest, vulnerable moment, out of shame, but right after he registered those sly little calls of yours, his cat instincts kicked in and he was walking out into the hallway against his own desires. As soon as he stops before you, his conscious slyly clicks back into control and his pupils shrink to ordinary narrowed state

Even if Husk is annoyed when realising he just went full cat mode, he’s purring. You can hear the purring underneath his breath, he always purrs when you’re around and he purrs happily at seeing you again once more. His cute striped feather-tufted long tail flicking side to side across the floor, almost on the verge of wagging

All of it is physical signs of how much he adores you and how deep in love he is with you. That, even whilst he despises having been courted into acting like a cat, though your intentions aren’t to embarrass him, he is most okay with you doing it

What is that you need to discuss? Is something going on? Is there snuggles involved?

“There you are, love. Is something wrong? I haven’t seen you since 1pm. I’m worried”

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Gone But Here All The Same｡⋆.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader

Being a military wife could be quite lonesome especially being a military wife to a ghost but he knows exactly what you need to make you feel less alone

Warnings: smut, phone sex, masturbation (m&f), some reference to death and PTSD but not really, dom!Simon, sex toys, bit of voice kink, size kink

WC: 1.7k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You knew what you were getting into when you married Simon. He was a member of the special forces who technically didn’t exist- you were used to the long months when he was shipped off, the anxiety that John Price would show up on your doorstep with a frown and a letter from the military, the anger and the fear that your husband carried on his chest every moment of the day.

You knew all of this and yet you still married him because he was the best thing to ever happen to you and besides that, he was the best lay you ever had.

Simon had ruined you for any other man (and toy) the moment that his thick fingers slipped between your soft thighs and into your panties under the bar table on your third date. He drove you insane with the smallest of touches, playing with your body with a finesse that only a seasoned soldier could.

You constantly ached for him, feeling so hollow without his thick cock stretching you to your absolute limit. Sure the reunion sex was absolutely mind-blowing every time he came home but with Simon leaving for sometimes months at a time, your need for any sort of pleasure drove you insane.

But luckily, he was going to call you today.

Simon called when he could, usually it was from a private number or some foreign phone, a different number every time. He had created a system with you, he would always call on the 13th of every month and if he missed it, he would call you on the 23rd. 

You sat on your shared bed, staring intently at your phone. The minutes ticked by at a snail's pace as the sun cast a warm orange glow over the large bedroom. You sighed when the clock hit 8, you doubted that he would call today.

A groan slipped from your lips as you rocked forward to slip from the bed, but just then the phone screen lit up, displaying a cute photo of you and Simon on your honeymoon as a random number rolled across the top. You snatched it up and quickly answered.

“Simon.” You breathed, relief flooding your body. His chuckle crackled through your phone’s speaker.

“Hello to you too bunny.” Your smile grew even wider if that was at all possible. He only ever called you bunny when he was in a good mood. You flopped back against the mountain of pillows propped against the headboard, keeping your phone as close as you could in lieu of your husband’s massive body.

“Are you coming home soon?” You tugged the collar of the shirt you were wearing up to your nose, inhaling the fading scent of his cologne.

He was silent for a moment. “No, not yet love.” ‘Love’, that’s what he called you when he was trying to let you down easy. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion but he quickly spoke again. “I do have a present for you bunny.” He purred, his voice dropping down an octave to that deep baritone that haunted your wet dreams.

“But nothing was delivered to the house?” 

“Oh bunny.” He said mockingly. “Your present is already in the house. How ‘bout you check my nightstand.” You practically dove over to his side of the bed in your excitement, Simon’s broken laughter following after you.

The drawer slid open and you gasped. Sitting on top of one of his many spare balaclavas and a book he was in the middle of reading was an enormous dildo. There was a suction cup on the bottom where the balls should have been and with a little bow sitting on the head, it made you laugh a little under your breath. “Got it?” 

Simon’s voice broke you out of your trance. You snatched up the toy and gasped at the weight of it. “Simon what is this?” You settled back into your original spot, your fingers flexing around the purple silicon almost unconsciously.

“I would think you know what it is considering how often you beg for it.” He said right as your middle finger brushed against an incredibly life-like vein towards the base of the fake cock, a vein you knew very well.

“Is this- is this your cock?” Molten heat pooled between your thighs as you held the toy even tighter, now realising that you were indeed holding a replica of your husband’s generous gift. Already you were using your free hand to pull your soaked panties down your legs.

“Damn right it is. You think I would let another cock near you?” He snarled, sending another wave of arousal right to your core. You moaned softly into the air as your fingers brushed against your aching clit, smearing your wetness over the sedative bundle of nerves. “Oh you like that don’t you.”

“Si.” His groan echoed through the room and you could faintly hear the sound of a zipper.

“Go on bunny, get that cunt nice and stretched for my cock.” You were dripping onto the comforter beneath you, desperately eager to follow each and every one of his orders. Excitement began to curl in your stomach as two of your fingers easily slipped into your cunt. It wasn’t nearly enough for you, your fingers weren’t as thick or as long as your husband’s but they were warming you up well enough.

“Can I put it in now?” You pleaded into your phone, needing your husband’s cock nestled inside you once more, even if it was only a replica. He let out a sniffled groan and you could just picture the way he was biting his lip to keep his voice down, his blue eyes squeezed shut as he gripped the base of his dick to stave off his end. He always got noisy when he was about to cum.

“I don’t think your little cunt can handle it.” He managed to get out through clenched teeth. You nodded frantically. “Words bunny.” He snarled, briefly jolting you from your haze.

“Yes Si, can handle you. Always do.” Your other hand practically flew between your thighs, the toy gripped so tightly you could feel the silicon give under the tension. The cold tip bumped against your hot skin as you notched it at your entrance. 

Your cunt burned as it finally breached you, dousing the ache in your belly. You whined with pain and Simon moaned. It was no secret that he loved the size difference between you both, he revealed in the way you cried when he fucked you, his massive cock stirring up your guts in the most deliciously painful way.

You could barely breathe as you reached the halfway mark. “So big.” Your back arched and you forced another inch inside you. A wet slapping came through your phone’s speakers along with Simon’s muffled breaths.

An image of him flashed behind your eyes- fully dressed in dark clothes but with his fly open and his thick cargo pants shuffled down his hips just enough for his cock to be free. The ridged lines of his skull mask would hide the way his lips twitched as he got lost in the feel of his gloved fist around his aching length. 

You cried out as you finally reached the hilt of the dildo, finally you were full of him once more. “Simon, you feel so good.” You pulled the toy out only a few centimetres before pushing it back in and sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. 

“Fuck bunny, keep talking.” He ground out as the wet sounds on his end picked up the pace.

“I can feel you in my belly, so big. Stretching me out.” Your hand began to move faster. It wasn’t the same as when your husband fucked you, you couldn’t feel his weight keeping you picked to the mattress or the way his cock would throb and twitch within you but the sound of his voice right next to your ear was all the same. 

His groan resonated through your chest, lighting your nerves up with that familiar fire. “Take that fucking cock, bunny, be a good girl and fuck yourself on it. Let me hear you cum for me.” 

You thrashed on top of the bed, hips rolling down to meet your hand with each thrust. “Simon!” You clumsily strummed your clit with your other hand so wishing for the rough fingertips of your husband instead. “‘M close.” You mewled.

“Cum.” The connection crackled with the depth of his voice but the effect was still the same. Your body seized suddenly as your jaw dropped in a silent scream. Pleasure rippled through you like a tidal wave, both easing and fuelling your lust. 

As soon as your breath returned to your lungs, you chanted his name over and over again as you rode out your high. “That’s it, good bunny.” Simon cooed, his breath hitching as he thrust into his fist with an added fervour. You were delirious with ecstasy, the toy inside of you now only keeping you full while your orgasm began to fade.

“Simon. Need your cum.” You begged softly into the phone. “Please Simon. Need it so bad.” He gasped and then moaned deep in his chest. 

“Shit.” He said breathlessly after a moment. “Shoulda brought a towel with me.” He grumbled and you laughed.

As gently as you could, you eased the dildo from your cunt. You winced at the stretch, now feeling sore and satisfied for the first time in two months. “How much longer do you have left on the call?” There was a grunt and then the sound of a zipper.

“Not long.” You sighed and relaxed back into the pillows. Simon always got quiet after sex, his pillow talk was practically non-existent.

“I love you.” There was a beat and then.

“Go take a shower and have a snack. Don’t forget water.” He never said it back but you felt it all the same. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

There was muffled shouting in the background and he sighed. “Stay safe out there. Don’t worry about me.” Your fingers curled around your phone and tucked it closer to your body.

“Always do bunny.” He replied simply. “Always do.” 

You held onto the device long after he finally hung up. It was hard being Simon’s wife but it was also the easiest thing in the world because you knew that he would always be right there, even when he was thousands of miles away.

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[loaksbitch]

jake sully telling you to stop running away and take him when you’re overly stimulated while he’s not even near his orgasm?? yes pls i’ll def write it!! (⨳)

warnings - jake being jake obviously needs a warning itself, hellooo?? tummy pressing, pinning hands above head, forced orgasm, overstimulation, p in v, mean jake turns soft jake at the end but still we all love him, ehh idk what i missed so tell me ( grammar errors and typos ahead )

“‘s too much.” your words fell on deaf ears as your mate keeps rutting to you hard, knocking up your gut.

you’ve lost count of how many times you’d came through the time you both started to fuck. “j-jak-jake” you’d keep stuttering every time he thrusts up to you, “can’t get enough of this pussy, princess” he states.

“can’t get enough of you” he’d sneak his arms and wrap them around your waist before brining you up from the floor to his strong thighs. “no!” you whine when you feel him fully sink into your heat

jake would look down to where you both are connected and groan at the sight of your arousal all over his cock. “fuck, you’re taking me so well” he cusses holding you by your hips and pulling you up from his length to push you back in

at this point you’re nothing but his cocksleeve, jake ignores your pleas and keeps rutting to you like a monster. you gasp when you feel a bubble is about to burst in your tummy and shake your head knowing you’ll pass out if your mate won’t stop

not thinking of consequences, you slightly lift yourself up from his thighs but not fully for his cock to slip out and place your small hand on his pelvis, trying to push him off and that was a big mistake

“JAKE!?” you scream when he pulls you down forcefully. “where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he would hiss under his unstable breath and place you by your back, pressing your hips down to the floor.

you’ve now pissed jake on top of you, one hand claiming your tiny hands and pinning them above your head. “stop running away,” you feel his other hand push your left leg to the side for more access. “stop fucking running away and take it, take me”

you shake your head side to side as tears keep forming in your eyes. “it hurts,” you hear him scoff. “should’ve thought of that before being brat and pissing me off, lover girl”

you feel his hand that was holding your left leg slowly slide up to your tummy and once he was below your navel he only was needed to press lightly to feel how deep he was fucking your cervix. you did not even need to tell him you’re cumming as he felt you squeeze the day light out of his cock

“that’s it pretty girl, cum for me” he leans down to kiss your lids and wiping your tears with his hand that was pressing on your tummy, “fuck i’m so close” jake says making you gasp a sob out ‘finally’ you manage to think as your fogged mind processes what’s happening

you squeeze your eyes shut when you feel him bottom out to paint your walls nice and pretty. “so fucking gorgeous with my load in you” he would compliment you as you two try to ease your breath

finally being able to think straight, you feel jake pullout of you with a constant “shh, you did so well princess” and sweet nothings being whispered to your ears. after a while, you’re partially awake with hazy eyes as you watch jake press a warm and wet towel at your sex to clean you up

once everything was done, jake spoons you and keeps apologizing for making you cry, you hum knowing somehow it’s your fault for being a brat and trying to make him jealous with flirting with other men he doesn’t like. “i love you, pretty girl”

he’d only smile when you answer him with a soft purring as you’re technically sleeping.

boy OH BOY this is nothing but a cow shit 😭 sorry this ain’t what y’all expected :’)

like + reblog + comments are super appreciated and not pressured. i love each and everyone of you babies <3

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

hii

could u do something where james hetfield accidentally makes the reader squirt

thanks and LOVE ur writing

Warnings: Smut, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), squirting, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

James was between your legs, fingers buried deep inside you and tongue lapping up your juices.

James knew you'd been having a tough time with work and he wanted to treat you right once you got home, he'd spent time making a nice dinner and setting up snacks for a movie night, the cherry on top was when he got on his knees.

You'd only been dating a few months and got worried he was rushing, but then he tugged on your pants. It definitely helped you relax, it always did.

His fingers curled and dragged and hit everywhere you needed him, lips suction around your clit, tongue swirling around the sensitive nub.

Your hands buried in his hair, tugging on the thick blond strands, pulling him impossibly closer, your hips bucking and grinding against his face, seeking any and all friction you could get.

You couldn't get enough of him, and you were both perfectly fine with that.

Your thighs kept clamping around his head, he never told you to stop but you couldn't picture that being comfortable, no matter how many times he'd tell you he could die happily that way.

James pulled away, just enough to talk to you, his hot breath fanning over your cunt while his fingers kept moving and curling inside you. "Fuck, you're so good... Such a good girl for me, sweet thing... Just keep making those sounds." He purred, kissing your inner thigh.

You could feel a knot growing inside you just as it always did, only it felt... different. A good different, an amazing different.

"Jamie-! Jamie, feels-feels weird." You moaned out, head rolled back against the couch. James didn't pay attention that comment, not when you were barely keeping yourself from closing your thighs around his head.

You couldn't hold back much longer, moans and cries getting louder and higher until all of it came to a crash. Your thighs locked around James's head, grip in his hair nearly pulling it out as you came hard around his fingers, a gush leaving you and spraying him in the face.

He couldn't even move and just accepting you were waterboarding him.

After a moment when you'd finally calmed down he pushed your legs off his shoulder and sat back, staring up at you in awe, gaze only flickering down to see your pretty, glistening cunt.

"What was that..?" He asked hesitantly.

Your chest rose and fell deeply, your head still rolling back. You smiled weakly at him. "Do it again." You said in almost a pleading tone. He couldn't say no to that, not when his shirt was drenched and his jeans were ruined, though that part wasn't technically your fault.