#Lips Require Cherish

[jasminewilson143]

Lips Require Cherish As well: Sun Security Tips You Didn’t Know

When it comes to sun assurance, most of us are lovely persevering approximately slathering sunscreen on our faces, arms, and legs. But how frequently do you think approximately ensuring your lips? That is correct, your lips require sun security as well! They’re fair as powerless to sunburn, harm, and indeed skin cancer as the rest of your skin. Don’t stress if you’ve been dismissing them since…

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ How they hold you in bed when sleeping

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Tartaglia (separate) 

When the stars are perched in the night sky, and the world becomes wrapped in a still blanket of darkness - there is no better action than departing to your safe space, the coziness of your bedroom, and the safety of your beloved’s body next to you. The lights are dimmed and after a warm shower and a change into comfy pajamas, your beloved is met with a tender sight of your sleepy figure. It is time for rest, and with his arms open, beckoning you to hop into his embrace - you join him in bed at last. 

✧ A single glance from Pierro and his eyes would instantly soften upon seeing your sleepy expression. The Director of the Fatui doesn’t require any questions or even verbal communication to know that something is troubling you. Your solemn gaze and slumped shoulders tell him more than enough - and his heart aches in response. Silently but gently, he pulls you closer, his star-shaped pupils seeking answers from your own. 

“My divine one... A long day?” - he whispers, his hand lifting your chin to make you look at him. You don’t directly respond, but nod and press your lips into a thin line. Pierro sighs, yearning to vanquish all your worries and pain. But sometimes, words are superfluous.

“Do not fret your little heart. No harm shall come, for I am here, my divine. Shall I take you to bed, instead?” 

With a small nod and a timid glance from you, Pierro spoke no further. He knew what you required on such solemn nights as these, and instead, allowed his arms to pick you up, carrying your fatigued figure in his bigger embrace. He pulled you closer, his cheek gently grazing your face as he whispered soothing words and brought you to bed. 

He tucked you in, the king-sized bed bringing the familiar sensation of silky sheets and warm covers. He kisses your forehead with careful and slow deliberation before accompanying you to sleep.    

When Pierro sleeps beside you, he is often silent, but his gaze never leaves your figure. He’d lay on his side, gazing at your face as if it were the stars and the moon itself. Even within the dimness of the room, he has memorized the outline of your face, the soothing rhythm of your breathing, the contour of your figure. With one hand around you, you two slept peacefully, the troubles of the world left behind. Even the Fatui’s Director required solace, and this solace he would locate only in your tender arms; his sanctuary. 

✧ Il Capitano has memorized your routine. Take a shower, get ready for bed, and most importantly, sleep on top of him as if his body were a sturdy mattress. It’s not your fault your cherished is so much taller and bigger, right? Well luckily for you, he absolutely adores it when you climb on top of him, resting your head on top of his chest and legs around his hips. Your smaller figure clad tight around him like a loving weighted blanket while he slept on his back. His hands would gladly squeeze you, loving your softness against his toned physique. 

“You don’t mind my weight on top of you, Cappy?” - you’d often ask every night before bed, peeking at him with that tender worry that made the Harbinger melt in an instant. Capitano would continue to hold you, his sharp fingers tracing circles gently on your hips or your back.

“Dearest, I have carried heavier weights that quadruple you in size. If you were to bother me, would I be pulling you back to my arms whenever you toss and turn?” 

And thus, with the seal of approval from the honorable Captain, you’d smile triumphantly and sleep on him. That’s just how the two of you were: Capitano was a beast in size, slept still, and barely moved when on his back. Conversely, you were smaller in size, slept very lightly, and often turned or wrestled with the covers. Even when you had the spacious bed to your leisure, you always chose to sleep tightly clinging to him. And Capitano revered every second of it as if it was the biggest honor in his duty as your protector. Truly, an honorable knight protecting your dreams. 

✧ Sharing a bed with Il Dottore is a toil. If you managed to miraculously drag him out of his lab, he’d groan and argue that he has important research to do, that your concern for his sleep schedule is ‘childish’. Yet the moment he settles in bed, he becomes a menace to your sanity: 

“Are you coming to bed or not?” 

“Come here, closer.” 

“No, you are pushing around.”

And the cherry on top of it all? He’d stare at you during the entire night, maskless. You know he doesn’t easily fall asleep, even on days when he overexhausted himself in his experiments. So naturally, his method to relax is to press the side of his head tightly against your chest and just remain glued to you with the sound of your heartbeat being his salvation. You’d assume it is an adorable sight… until you’d open your eyes in the middle of the night, only to notice a piercing, red lens just gawking at you. Motionless and still, he just wore that neutral expression while being pressed to your chest.

“...Uh, are you going to just stare at me in the dark?” - you whispered in the dark, to which he won’t even move or change his expression.

“43 beats per minute.” 

You blinked sleepily - “... wha-” 

“Your heart beats approximately 43 to 50 beats per minute when you sleep. That’s anywhere between 20640 to 24000 beats for 8 hours of sleep.” 

It was your turn to gawk at him, albeit in confusion. His nonchalant yet stoic reply told you that he was, indeed, very focused on counting each and every beat of your heart while you slept. He remained pressing his ear to the middle of your chest, arms wrapped around your waist tightly. 

“Dottore, have you not slept this entire time…?” 

“Shush, stop speaking,” - he whispered more gently, pressing his face into you in a rather touchy manner as if you wouldn’t notice. “I am still counting. Your heart rate is increasing to 81 bpm.” 

“If you won’t go to sleep this instance I won’t make any Ajilenakh Cake tomorrow.”

As such, silence dominated the dark bedroom once more. The doctor said no more and settled on hiding his face against your body, not daring to admit that he loved your desserts. And even more, not daring to acknowledge that your heartbeat lulled him to sleep. To deny his infatuation with every beat of your pulse would be a lie, and to deny his longing to physically hold you close would be ignorance. So he settled to silently counting your heartbeat until succumbing to dreamless slumber. 

✧ Scaramouche didn’t require sleep. Everyone knew that. Regardless, your persuasion with the 6th knew no bounds as you begged and nagged at him relentlessly to remain beside your bedding. He would audibly scoff and cross his arms at your ridiculous request. 

“My body does not need rest for 8-something hours. Why should I even waste such precious time with you while you’re the one unconscious?” 

However, no matter how much Scaramouche put up the cold front and rolled his eyes, he wasn’t immune to your ingratiating puppy eyes or gentle tugging whenever you asked something of him. You’d always embrace him from the side, asking him softly to stay a little longer as you depart for the night. He, of course, would refuse and cut your answers short, but his actions told a different story. He was already tucking you in; making sure the futon was neatly laid and the covers warmly wrapped around you while he sat kneeling beside you. He just had to make a fuss first:

“To even insinuate such foolish proposition… You must be truly bored out of your mind.”

You’d only chuckle in response, smiling whenever he made sure your room was tidy and secure for your nightly rest. But even then, you’d reach for his hand, and whisper: 

“... Just stay for a while longer. At least until I fall asleep, okay?” 

Same scoff. Same attitude. But The Puppeteer never left. He always stayed beside you, despite his arrogant rebuttals that you quickly learned were nothing about. He’d either sit leaning beside you, keeping a silent company, or telling you obscure stories he heard from Inazuma or the Abyss. And at times, Scaramouche would remain kneeling by your futon even after you had fallen asleep. 

Your breathing was slow and steady, but he was almost afraid to lean any closer. All bickerings he displayed before were gone, and like a porcelain puppet, Scaramouche would find himself frozen in place, hypnotized by your soothing breathing. He just gazed at you, as if you were a distant star within the dark sky, the palliative breaths emitting from you told him that you were safe. You are here. 

And it was from you he learned how gentle breaths are emitted by those deemed “alive”. How your breathing fluctuates in different moments of your life: energetic when happy, hitched when disturbed, and peaceful when asleep. Strangely, this mundane motion of your chest falling and rising worked like a lullaby to Scaramouche. 

Alas, he now condemns himself for not caressing your face all these times he watched you sleep. A lonesome Wanderer sat alone, an empty futon beside him. Your familiar presence lacking, and he won’t hear your tranquil breaths. You are not here.  

✧ Your dear Pantalone had a fundamental habit before bed. He’d set his glasses aside, hair tied up, and go through his skincare routine right before bed. His hands diligently yet delicately wash all the apprehension and professionalism from his face. But the most important part? Trash talk with you about what happened at his work, while he focused on his reflection in the mirror.

“Could you believe that dear?” - the 9th called out to you from the bathroom, his brows frowning in displeasure. The man continued to cleanse his face. “Those insolent aristocrats offered another bribe under the table, thinking that would change my final statement.” 

You responded with a faint “Mhm,” back at him. 

“And then! The tasteless bastard dared to ask that some of their reports be delayed because he will pay twice, as long as no one checks for quality control. I mean, the audacity of some of those high-society morons!” 

“Right, right” - you murmured faintly from the bedroom. 

Pantalone massaged his cheekbones, making sure his face was as affluent as his taste and status. He adjusted his robe, still rambling with the same frustrated passion. “They think that just because they’re doing business with me, negotiating with a high sum of bribes would lead to a guaranteed deal with the Fatui. Ugh.” 

This time, there was no response from you. The bedroom was awfully silent, despite the night lamp still shining. 

“Honey?” - Pantalone called gently. 

Silence. The Regrator stepped out of the bathroom, a curious look on his face, until his eyes spotted you in bed, asleep. His expression immediately softens, all quarrels and gossip forgotten. It seems that his late-night rambles about work have thrilled you so much that you, obviously, dozed off. You didn’t even turn off the lights or get under the covers yet.  

Pantalone couldn’t help but smile softly. You two had a long day, anyway. He quietly finished his preparations for bed, changed into comfortable nightwear, and stepped closer to your side. With a delicate touch, he made sure you were tucked in properly, giving you the usual good night kiss on the forehead and tucking your hair away from your face. The man dimmed the lights before he two took his rightful place in bed beside you. 

Whatever quarrels troubled his mind now - didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had your comforting presence beside him in bed. As he slowly spooned your sleeping figure, Pantalone let out a sigh of relief, letting his head rest by the crook of your nape. Only then, did the Regrator feel his body go into ease, feeling the tranquil silence settle upon the room. Thus, the two of you slept warmly; Something that Pantalone would never trade for any riches or gold. 

✧ Ah yes, Tartaglia, his sweetheart, and their 50,000 Mora five-foot tall Morax plushie. Childe remained lying on his back, his expression far from pleased. Ever since he returned from his mission in Liyue, he gifted you this massive dragon plushie. A plushie that became his mortal enemy. His tormentor. His replacer. 

The 11th frequently brought souvenirs back home in Snezhnaya. Liyuan tea sets, Inazuman dresses, or Fontainian gadgets. All for your spoiling, and the joyous smiles from his siblings. One of such missions, he returned home with several cute toys and plushies, just for you and Teucer. He is not beating the “Greatest Toy Seller” allegation anytime soon, but he was certain that the gigantic Morax would be a lovely choice for you. 

How naive he was. 

The plushie was almost your entire height, yet you held onto it with utter delight when he gave it to you. You hugged and squeezed it with love, finding the fluffy geo archon the cutest thing ever. And thus, here you were. In bed, not hugging your boyfriend, but hugging the massive Morax plushie. 

It became a common occurrence. At first, Childe chuckled at your adorable antics whenever you brought his gift with you in bed. But then it became more apparent that you would rather turn your back to him, and just fall asleep while embracing the plushie. Childe swallowed his pride. It’s just a plushie, he bargained with himself. But then he would stare daggers that that innocent, fluffy-looking Morax. How dare it be the one receiving your love, while you adorably squeezed or fell asleep on it.

It should’ve been him! 

Therefore, one night, he took matters into his own hands. Tartaglia sat up silently in bed, and by mustering all his skills in stealth, he sneakily pulled the Morax plushie away from your grasp while you slept soundly. He was slow, and careful so as not to wake you up; and boy, tugging that five-foot plush was no easy task. Once it was away from your arms, Childe grinned in triumph… and threw the toy aside. The enemy has been neutralized.  

Next step - carefully pulling you closer to him. You were already in deep sleep, so of course, you didn’t feel when your beloved naturally embraced you in bed. Shh, no one will know he was jealous of a silly toy. He was just a concerned boyfriend, who needed to bury his face onto the crown of your head and relish your warmth. 

The next morning, you woke up feeling warm and pressed to your dear Ajax, who was particularly cuddly that morning. 

“Oh no, how did my Morax plushie fall to the floor?” 

“Hm? Oh, you must’ve accidentally tossed it away while you slept, dear.” 

[zyhkoo]

☆ everything i know about love

dick grayson and jason todd x fem!reader (separate)

they drunkenly propose

a/n: i was inspired by this fic my friend showed me, i hope you guys like this one!

Jason todd

Jason never understood the fuss about marriage. Just a piece of jewelry and some vows, and you're suddenly yoked to someone for life. No thanks. He had more important things to worry about than tying the knot. Besides, he enjoyed his freedom far too much to be tied down like that.

Why commit to one person when the world is full of interesting people to meet and adventures to be had? Jason preferred to live life on his own terms, without the constraints of a ring on his finger.

His secret identity as Red Hood only added to the list of reasons why marriage didn't fit into Jason's plans. His life was dangerous and unpredictable, and he couldn't risk the safety of a loved one by involving them in his shadowy world. Plus, balancing a marriage and a secret life as a crime-fighter would be nearly impossible. It was better for everyone involved if Jason continued his nocturnal escapades alone.

Surprisingly enough, Jason found himself softening his stance while dating you. It wasn’t like he suddenly became a relationship enthusiast overnight, but he couldn’t deny the subtle change in his perspective.

Though marriage still seemed like a far-off possibility, Jason realized that a fulfilling relationship didn't necessarily require a ring. He was content with the way things were, cherishing the connection he had with you and the moments they shared. The idea of a wedding might still make him a bit nervous, but he knew what mattered most was the happiness you shared in the present.

As the buzz about your relationship grew, the questions about when you were getting married started to come up more frequently. Your friends would throw subtle hints during conversations, or nosy family members would outright ask, expecting a firm timeline. Jason felt the pressure, too. The constant reminders of marriage were like a nagging voice in the back of his mind, pushing him to make a decision he wasn’t ready for. The pressure was mounting, but Jason stubbornly held onto his reservations.

Then, it hit him. Wedding fever.

The last wedding the two of you attended was your best friend’s. You couldn't believe it when you accidentally caught the bouquet at your best friend's wedding. It was just a silly tradition, nothing more. At least, that's what you thought. Little did you know, the effect of the bouquet would hit someone unexpected: Jason.

Suddenly, the mere touch of that bouquet ignited a strange fervor within him. A fever for the idea of marriage, something he had vehemently opposed in the past. Jason watched as your friends and family playfully teased you about catching the bouquet, but his mind was elsewhere. He stood there, dumbfounded, as if the sight of you with that bouquet had somehow changed everything.

His thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and newfound desire. How could a simple bouquet have such an impact on him? He was the guy who never wanted to get married, and now he was practically salivating at the thought. What was happening to him?

When he had too much to drink, you dragged him back to the hotel room.

You gently pulled Jason into the hotel room, his body leaning heavily against yours as the alcohol dulled his senses. You decided to undress him so he'd be more comfortable, unbuttoning his polo shirt while his breath tickled your neck. But as you reached the last button, Jason suddenly leaned forward and pressed a desperate, hungry kiss against your lips.

You were caught off guard by his sudden move, but you couldn't resist the passion behind the kiss. You returned his kiss, your lips responding tenderly and gently meeting him. As he pulled away, your heart skipped a beat as Jason looked into your eyes, his words slurred but his gaze steady. "Marry me," he said.

Here he was, the man who had once been so skeptical about marriage, proposing to you in the midst of a drunken stupor. You couldn't believe what you were hearing, you were absolutely baffled. You stammered, trying to find the right words to say. “What?” you muttered.

"I said, marry me," he repeated as he gripped your wrist. “M’ serious," he insisted, as if trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince you.

You couldn't help but stand there with your mouth open, in disbelief at the words that were coming out of his mouth. This was the same man who had been adamantly against the idea of marriage just a few hours ago, and now he was drunkenly proposing to you! Jason's lips grazed against your fingers, his breath warm and words slurred but still filled with a sweet intensity. "Come on," he muttered, clinging to your hand. "Just say yes."

You could feel the nerves in your voice as you struggled to find the right words. "Wow, uh...I'd love to say yes, but maybe we should call it a day first. Let's talk about it in the morning, okay?"

Jason's eyes softened as he looked at you, his drunken state making it difficult for him to comprehend your words. But he nodded, albeit reluctantly. "In the morning," he repeated, his voice slurring. "But m’ serious, I do want to marry you." You gave him a small, reassuring smile. "I know you're serious," you said softly, gently stroking his hair. "We'll talk about it in the morning, when you're sober, okay?"

Dick Grayson

It all began with a simple birthday surprise from Dick– a beautiful white cake that bore an uncanny resemblance to a wedding dress. Unintentionally, it planted the seed of wedding fever in Dick's mind. Slowly, the realization dawned upon him, sparking a subtle yet determined desire to make his love for you official.

Dick found himself wrestling with how to broach the subject. While you had occasionally mentioned a future together, marriage had never explicitly entered the picture in your conversations. He pondered how to bring up the idea without catching you off guard.

Late one night, after an evening of bonding with his siblings over a few drinks, Dick returned to the cozy abode he shared with you. In his grip, he clutched a single daisy, its delicate white petals gently swayed with each movement. As he stepped inside, he revealed a paper ring resting on his palm, its simplicity belying the depth of emotion he wanted to convey.

You looked down at the paper ring in Dick's hand with puzzlement in your eyes. "What is this?" you asked. His heart thumped in his chest as he saw your confused eyes. He took a step closer, the petals of the flower trailing across your skin. A gentle smile played on his lips as he slurred, “It’s a ring, f’ course.”

He held the ring up, offering it to you. “I want to…” he trails his words. “You want to..?” you continued his sentence. He looks into your eyes, the paper ring still offered in his hand. He’s taking in the sight of you, wearing nothing more than a pair of sleep shorts and one of his old t-shirts, with your hair messy on your head.

“I… I want to marry you,” he says quietly.

You replied quickly, “Sure.” you said casually. A hint of surprise flickered in Dick's eyes. He had braced himself for a range of potential reactions, but this one had caught him off guard. Dick's mouth hung open for a moment, and for a split second he was at a loss for words. "Sure?" he repeated, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and a touch of confusion. He looked at you in slight surprise, his mind processing the unexpected simplicity of your response.

“Yeah,” you replied as you held his hand. “Let’s get married.”

His mind raced, trying to process the unexpected simplicity of your response. He’d been expecting a little bit more discussion, maybe even some tears, yet here you were, casually agreeing to his impromptu proposal. He stared down at you, a mix of surprise and elation flooding his expression. He looked at your hand holding his thumb running against the back of your hand.

“Just like that?” he chuckled, a bit breathlessly. You only smiled softly, “Why wouldn’t I marry someone like you?” you told him. “Let’s get you to bed, you’re gonna have a massive hangover tomorrow.”

He looked down at the paper ring on his hand, then back at you. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, as he took your hand in his, and placed the ring upon your finger. “Now it’s official,” he chuckled, looking down at the simple paper ring on your finger.

💍 discord server please like and reblog!

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: Alastor didn't like sharing your charm with the others. Which often led him to get needy. Craving extra special attention from his darling girl, which you happily supplied.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, established relationship, heavy breeding kink, praise kink, soft!alastor, creampies, dirty talk, fingering, light biting, nipple play (reader recieving), begging, making out

☒ Word Count: 1,564

Your peers swore you had cast a spell upon Alastor. He was wrapped around your little finger, and you lost count of how many times demons who stayed at the hotel would come up to you and ask if you owned his soul. 

You may not have owned his soul, but you certainly owned his heart.

After the initial shock wore off, your counterparts left it be. Angel would joke often about how Alastor was "pussy whipped". But that was as far as the teasing went. Everyone else knew not to step on The Radio Demon's toes. 

It wasn't hard for your peers to catch on; to why exactly Alastor loved you so dearly. You were an absolute sweetheart, caring and compassionate in every way. You always offered a hand to any of your counterparts who required assistance, and your actions proved that you were constantly thinking of ways to make everyone feel valued. 

Alastor rather despised having to share your charm with others. Which often led to long nights of your lover being clingy and needy for you. Much like tonight. 

You were flat on your back atop the plush duvet. Alastor surrounded you with his frame, slender arms enclosing near your head. Your lover placed soft kisses across your face. Humming one of his favorite tunes in the process. "Absolutely breathtaking, my doe," Alastor whispered, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. 

A chill ran down your spine at the feeling of your lover's bare body pressing against yours. His cold flesh was a nice contrast to the warmth you emitted. You let out a soft whine as Alastor's erection grazed your lower tummy, making you needier than ever for him. Which was The Radio Demon's goal all along. It was only fair to make you feel just as desperate for him as he was for you. 

"Do you know how much I cherish you, my dear?" Alastor cooed, nipping at your neck. Leaving pretty marks in his wake. His sharp teeth grazing along your pulse point caused your breath to hitch. Your lover trailed lower, still pressing his body close to yours. 

"Yes," You sighed, burying your hands into his fluffy tufts of hair as Alastor's lips wrapped around one of your nipples. His hands began to wander. One slipped between your legs, gathering your slick with his deft digits. His other hand trailed to your other breast, tweaking your neglected nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Good girl..." Alastor released your nipple with a loud pop before darting his tongue out to circle around your areola. A cry of his name slipped past your parted lips as Alastor's ring finger eased its way into your pussy. Your grip on his hair tightened as you held him closely to your chest, pulling a deep groan from your lover's lips. 

"Feels so good, Al," You babbled, raising your hips to meet the slow cadence of his finger plunging deep inside you. Alastor's lips shifted to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. Only this time, his sharp teeth skimmed along your sensitive nipple. A sultry moan ripped through you from the sensation, urging Alastor on to add a second finger inside your inviting heat. 

Alastor slowly rutted his hips against the plush duvet, letting out groans against your marked-up flesh. "Please, my love... need you inside," You whined desperately, pulling his face up to have him meet your gaze. A string of saliva connected Alastor's lips to your hardened nipple. His cock twitched at the look of desperation you gave him. You scored your bottom lip with your teeth, eyebrows knitted with emphasis; eyes half-lidded. 

"How could I say no when you ask so graciously, hm? I intend to give my little doe everything she needs." Alastor's smile widened as he pulled his fingers out of your dripping heat. He didn't waste a beat wrapping his slick-coated fingers around the base of his cock. A whine escaped you as your lover ran the head of his flushed length between your folds.  

"Hmm, you're so wet for me, darling. Do I really work you up that much?" Alastor quipped, allowing the tip of his cock to push past the tight ring of your pussy. You nodded your head in agreement, pushing your hips closer to his; but to no avail. Alastor's hands came to hold your waist, keeping you in place. "Use your words, my dear."

"Y-Yes! Always, Al. Just you... only this needy for you," You were already stupefied by the pleasure your lover granted you, and he barely even began. A deep chuckle escaped Alastor. The radio crackle reverberated through his chest. "I hope you are aware that the feeling is mutual, my precious little doe,"

With that, your lover pushed deeper inside you. Stretching your walls to accommodate his length. "F..Fuck, so tight. You are squeezing me so greatly, darling." Alastor hissed through gritted teeth. Your thighs came up to wrap around his waist, pulling his pelvis flush against yours. 

A gasp fled you as you felt your lover twitch from deep inside you. His full balls kissed the underside of your pussy, making your head spin. "Al, you're so big, feels s-so good..." Your hands enveloped the back of his neck, drawing his face close to yours. Alastor's lips ghosted your own as he delivered his first thrust deep inside your fluttering heat. 

"You take me so well, my darling. Your tight little hole was made for me- and me alone." Alastor whispered against your lips, finding a slow but steady rhythm. Desperate whines escaped you, and your lover drank up each and every single one. Alastor was infatuated. His crimson orbs held so much adoration for you. 

You kept your gaze fixated on him as he fucked into you sweetly. Your legs narrowed around his waist as Alastor began plunging into you with more vigor. "I'm going to breed you, my sweet little doe," Alastor huffed. One of his large palms wrapped around your hand before he dragged it down to your tummy. A sharp gasp fled you as you touched the prominent bulge your lover was causing. "Feel that, my dear? I'm in so deep. Surely you'll get pregnant when I spill my seed inside you." 

You clenched harshly around him from his crude words. The thought of Alastor knocking up caused the coil within you to unravel. "P-Please, breed me! Fill me up, make me yours for good!" You cried out, thighs trembling around your lover's waist. Your words diminished the last of Alastor's resolve. Before you knew it, his large hands hooked under the back of your thighs. Pushing them tightly to your chest.

A sharp gasp escaped you from the change of position. Alastor's cock reached even deeper from this angle, intensifying the heat in your lower tummy. "Such a good girl you are! You're so pilant, so willing... so eager for me to fuck a baby into you." His words caused your walls to flutter wildly around his length. You were on the edge of cumming all over his cock. The pleasure Alastor provided you was becoming too invigorating to bear. 

"Al, ah... I'm close! K-Kiss me, please!" You begged as his hips pistoned harshly into yours. The lewd sound of his balls slapping against the underside of your drooling pussy sent a pleasurable chill down your spine. Alastor wasted no time capturing your lips. The kiss was hot and messy, tongues intertwining with one another as the coil within you finally snapped. Your lover drank up all of your whines as your pussy pulsed and gushed around his cock. 

Alastor wasn't far behind you. His release was triggered by yours. The feeling of your hot, wet walls trying to milk him for all he was worth made him feel lightheaded. His thrusts became sloppy before his hips ultimately stilled against yours. Alastor groaned into the kiss as his cock twitched from deep within you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as the first ropes of his cum spilled into your pussy. 

There was so much, and the feeling of being bred by your lover was heavenly; ironically so. Alastor slowly broke away from the kiss as he attempted to catch his breath. His cock was still nestled deep inside you as he stared down at you lovingly. You couldn't help but smile widely at your lover, allowing your palms to capture his cheeks. Rubbing Alastor's face gently with the pads of your thumbs. 

"Alastor, that was... wow," You giggled as your lover slowly released his tight grip on your thighs, allowing your legs to lie flat against the bed. "You are truly perfect, my dear. I simply cannot get enough of you!" Alastor's praise caused your heart to flutter in your chest. He was so gentle with you and you alone. Pride surged through your soul at the notion that Alastor only had a soft spot for you.

Your train of thought was cut off by the sensation of your lover's cock hardening from deep inside you once more. A smirk crossed Alastor's features as he reveled in your look of shock. "What's with the look of awe, my darling? I told you I was going to breed you. I don't intend to leave this room until I am positive you have been thoroughly bred."

tags; @danveration

[harunayuuka2060]

*Maleficia and Baul arrived at Night Raven College and immediately asked to be escorted to Ramshackle Dorm.*

Crowley: I wouldn’t wish to trouble Her Majesty if this matter can be resolved by—

Maleficia: You may consider this matter trivial, but time is of the essence—I must act immediately.

Crowley: ...

Baul: By Her Majesty’s order, take us to the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm!

Malleus: Grandmother, you're here.

Maleficia: Have you received my message?

Malleus: Yes. I was unaware such a curse existed.

Maleficia: ...

Maleficia: This conversation can wait. At the moment, your friend requires my attention.

Malleus: *nods* Lilia and I—along with all of Diasomnia—stand ready to assist you, Grandmother.

*Maleficia and Baul anticipated resistance, but Grim simply observed as they stepped inside.*

Baul: ...Your Majesty—

Maleficia: They must have made an exception, knowing I would come to visit.

Baul: But Your Majesty, this is too—

Maleficia: *walks in*

Baul: Wait! Your Majesty!

*MC bowed in respect the moment Maleficia came into view. Yet when they raised their head, their expression turned to one of confusion—as if wondering why the Queen of Briar Valley had come all this way to see them.*

MC: What a privilege to see you again, Your Majesty.

Maleficia: ...

Maleficia: I as well, though I never imagined I would see you in such a situation.

MC: *smiles* I don’t believe this concerns Her Majesty.

Baul: You—! Have you no concept of Her Majesty’s distress?!

MC: Why the concern? My presence here harms no one.

Maleficia: My dear child, what is it you hope to accomplish? Perhaps we might discuss this together? Know that I am here to listen.

MC: ...

MC: Listen?

Baul: !!!

Maleficia: ...

MC:

MC: How unexpected to witness Your Majesty showing concern for another. Could time have softened your legendary resolve~?

Maleficia: ...

Baul: Their voice changed— No... Who are you?!

MC: Maleficia, an introduction would have been courteous, don't you agree?

Maleficia: The name of a demon shall never pass my lips.

MC: How this wounds me… I cherished our friendship, only to discover it was but my own fancy.

MC: *then lets out an unrestrained laugh*

Baul and Maleficia: ...

Maleficia: You've sunk too low—exploiting the vulnerability of an unsuspecting human.

MC: Look at them - they're painfully naive! After all they've done to help, no one valued their efforts. As a demon, perhaps I should… enlighten them to their true worth. *reached for the mirror behind them, revealing MC's reflection.*

MC: Kufufu~ A soul without escape is like a gem… polished by its own desperation.

Maleficia: !!!

Malleus: *shocked to see his grandmother wounded—though relieved to find the injury wasn’t fatal*

Maleficia: ...

Malleus: Grandmother... Did the child of man cause this?

Maleficia: Your friend would never wish me harm, Malleus.

Baul: Your Highness! A demon is seizing control of their mind!

Silver: Demon...?

Lilia: Are you saying this is more serious than we thought?!

Baul: Yes. Since our encounter, I've come to realize that human possesses powerful mana.

Malleus, Silver, Lilia, and Sebek: !!!

Sebek: Th-That can't be!

MC: ...

MC: *their eyes glazed over—the scene before them not quite registering* Have I done... something?

Grim: Grr...

MC: Queen Maleficia was here... Where is she?

*The mirror showed the fallen angel's reflection curling into a sinister smile.*

[leneemusing]

devoted, yearning & obsessive

❝ you occupy my thoughts. day and night, even in dreams you're there. i want you to never stop haunting me. ❞

❝ i am eternally yours. until the stars go out. and maybe, even after that. ❞

❝ my heart bleeds the color of your soul. i would cut it out and put it in your palms if i could. ❞

❝ it's like you have knit yourself around my ribs. i could no more cut you out than i could remove my own lungs. ❞

❝ you are woven into my soul and i dare not cut a single thread. ❞

❝ i am yours, body and soul, to do with as you wish. ❞

❝ i don't require you to love me back, or to care for me as i do you. only let me be here, let me devote myself to you. that would be enough. ❞

❝ i want to trap your smile in a bottle and take it out when no one else can see. ❞

❝ you belong to me and i to you. ❞

❝ do not look away from me. i cannot bear it when i do not occupy your vision. ❞

❝ i will follow you. to the ends of the earth, to the very gates of hades and whatever might lay beyond. ❞

❝ i will always be here. no matter how far you go you can always come home to me. ❞

❝ tell me all the places you have been hurt, every rejection, every scar. let me love you in all the places where you have burned. ❞

❝ i will not ever let you go. ❞

❝ you cannot escape this. you cannot run away from the love we share. ❞

❝ what we have is deeper than words could capture. ❞

❝ i will be anything you desire. i pluck out the parts of me you find distasteful and stuff your love in the craters left behind. ❞

❝ tell me what you wish of me and i will do it. ❞

❝ i could spend all day merely watching the air in your lung. i would count every blink. i would cherish every sigh from your lips. i could watch you merely exist for the rest of my life. ❞

❝ don't let go of me. i think if you lost me i would die. ❞

❝ i will cut out the tongues of every man who has wronged you. ❞

❝ i wish i could crawl inside you and make a home out of the hollows of your bones. ❞

ACTIONS:

WATCH: for sender to watch receiver sleep.

WATCHED: for sender to wake up and find receiver watching over them.

DISCOVER: for sender to find a journal full of sketches receiver made of them and sender finds them looking at it.

DISCOVERED: for receiver to find a journal full of sketches receiver made of them.

FOLLOW: for sender to stalk receiver, claiming they're doing it to protect them.

FOLLOWED: for receiver to stalk sender and claim they're protecting them.

GOING: for sender to take receiver to a secluded cabin for a romantic getaway.

GONE: for receiver to take sender to a secluded cabin for a romantic getaway.

SACRIFICE: for sender to kill someone who wronged receiver as a grand gesture.

SACRIFICED: for receiver to kill someone who wrong sender as a grand gesture.

CAUGHT: for sender to catch receiver staring at them.

CATCHING: for receiver to catch sender staring at them.

REVEAL: for sender to slowly undress themselves while receiver watches, but doesn't touch.

REVEALED: for receiver to slowly undress themselves while sender watches, but doesn't touch.

BATHE: for sender to bathe receiver, meticulously and tenderly as if serving them.

BATHED: for receiver to bathe sender, meticulously and tenderly as if serving them.

[bamfkeeper]

Kurt's instincts are still flaring...you know just how to help. 18+ under the cut. MDNI.

Sorta unofficial part two to my last Nightcrawler fic. That was originally going to be nsfw, but I decided against it because I have other nsfw pieces in the works. So this is sort of the smut version of that one. I'm glad I'm not the only one who wants to grab his horns.

Warnings: Afab reader, cunnilingus, unprotected, slightly rougher sex, marking, slight cum play? Unedited.

WC: 2.4k

Kurt had been quiet for a while.

After he had let out the 'darkness' within him, he just didn't feel like himself anymore. He was constantly battling his own mind, his very being, and it was utterly exhausting. Every day felt like a struggle that required all his energy. His mind flashed with the bodies of the fallen soldiers he had killed, their lifeless forms haunting his thoughts, and he often had trouble resting after those vivid, torturous memories resurfaced.

You tried your best to help him, to reassure and comfort him in every way you could think of, but you could only do so much for him. Despite all your efforts, some things couldn't be healed with mere reassurance. The act was done, and the scar was made, etched deeply into his soul. The emotional wounds were too profound, and words of comfort could only provide temporary relief from the pain he endured.

This was when he began to think...maybe it was better to let the darkness out. The pain of it all lessened when he did.

You were sitting with him in the privacy of your bedroom, where the soft glow of the evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm hue on everything. He sat behind you, his presence comforting as he leaned into your smaller form, providing a sense of security and closeness that you both cherished. He let out a quiet sigh, a sound so simple and quiet spoke volumes about the weight of his thoughts and the whirlwind of events that had been unfolding around him.

You noticed his somber mood and the lines of worry etched on his face, so you decided that perhaps a nap would help to relax him and ease his troubled mind. Sleep, you thought, was a temporary escape from reality, a gentle reprieve that could offer solace. You knew that it would at least give him a brief rest from his racing mind, a momentary pause in the chaos, allowing him to regain some peace and composure.

"I'm going to change real quick, I think we should take a nap. The afternoon has been quiet." You sat up a little and stood from the bed, slowly undressing and walking over to the closet. His golden eyes glued to your figure and he growled softly, the sound escaping his throat without him realizing it.

You were so engrossed in finding your favorite silk top among the myriad of clothes that you didn't notice his approach at all. Kurt was incredibly sneaky and had perfected the art of moving silently. He had learned to have a light foot during his years in the circus, where he would often sneak around in the dead of night, scavenging for scraps and bits of food. He had to be extremely careful not to wake the slumbering animals or disturb the watchful owner. The skills he honed in the circus allowed him to move like a shadow, almost undetectable.

It wasn't until he was directly behind you that you became aware of his presence. You felt his breath on your neck, startling you. His breath was hot and heavy, and you could feel it against your skin. His lips were slightly parted as if he was about to speak, but instead, he let out a deep, primal growl that sent shivers down your spine.

You turned to look up at him, his golden eyes shining dimly in the room as he grabbed hold of your hips. "Liebe..." he nearly snarled at you, his body trembled with screaming desire. He didn't want to hurt you, oh god, he didn't want to hurt you. But you looked so vulnerable right now, topless and the only protection from being completely nude was the thin layer of fabric you wore over your sex.

He knelt down slowly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of confusion and vulnerability. "I cannot explain what is happening..." he whispered quietly, his voice barely audible. The weight of his words hung in the air, creating a tense silence between you both. After a pause, you found the courage to speak up, breaking the stillness.

"Bad thoughts?" you asked gently, trying to understand what he was going through.

"Nein...good ones. With you...but...they are more intense than they ever have been," he whispered with a shaky voice, his emotions clearly overwhelming him. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the conflict between his feelings and the inability to comprehend them fully. You could tell he was having trouble saying it, so you sat back and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Show me what you mean." Your words and smile was all he needed to continue. His hands rubbed up your bare thighs and he ripped off your panties. The sudden tearing against your skin burned slightly, however you weren't given a moment to register the burn before his lips wrapped around the area. He kissed and suckled harsh marks where your skin was irritated from the fabric ripping. You moaned softly, your hand running through his curly locks and you watched him kiss and soothe the areas whilst leaving dark hickeys around your hips where your panties would sit.

He growled and bit the area below your belly button, that delicious, plush area that he loved so much, he kneaded and nipped it with his teeth while leaving a trail of purple marks in his wake. You watched as he marked you up, more and more started appearing on your skin and you couldn't help but moan with each one he planted.

"I cannot help myself any longer...these thoughts, I feel like they are consuming me." he rasped against your bruised skin, his yellow eyes almost looked more orange now, half lidded and heavy with lust in them. "I do not want to hurt you..." he muttered, his gaze traveling down further as he looked at your exposed sex.

He pressed his nose against your folds, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent, your obvious arousal filled his senses and his eyes shot back open. Claws held your plush hips, spreading your legs.

"Kurt..." you whispered, your words losing themselves behind the surprised groan that tore through you, his tongue lapped a strip up your slit as he trailed to your clit. His lips wrapped around your bud and he sucked hard on it. "Oh, god..." your voice wavered as your hands naturally went to his hair.

Your hands felt his curls, those dark locks that you adored, you curled your fingers around them and felt his silky hair when you felt his horns. You couldn't help but gently wrap your fingers around the horns and feel them a little more. You hadn't actually touched them much before, he didn't want you to. But now he didn't seem to care, too busy devouring your core and making your legs tremble.

Your hands gripped his horns, and his eyes widened. He clawed your hips, lifting you off the ground and diving further into your cunt, his tongue pushing inside as he ate you out. His tongue moved so expertly, dipping inside your wet hole and dragging your hot arousal up and over that pretty clit of yours.

His vigorous laps and suckles increased as you drug his head closer by his horns, panting and mewling like a poor bitch in heat. His claws held you tightly, growling against your slick sex as he pulled you away from the wall and threw you down on the bed.

Kurt crawled over you, looking more wild than you had ever seen. He drooled as he forced your legs open, his claws gently digging into the plush flesh of your thighs, and he dove back down, completely encompassed in your cunt and entranced by it. Your hands went to his horns again, groaning as he soaked your pussy with his saliva and eager tongue lashing.

You could barely hold back the cry as your orgasm hit you. It was intense, and your back arched off the bed, your hands gripped his horns in a vice and you tugged him even closer if that were possible. "Kurt!! Aah!" You stuttered out some rambling words about your climax, unable to get out a solid sentence. He could tell you came, your cunt soaked the sheets and his tongue, such the eager mutant he was lapped all of your up as you creamed for him.

He pulled back, strings of your cum and his saliva keeping him attached to you before breaking off. His goatee completely soaked, and his eyes dark with desire. "Worn out already, schatz?" Kurt's voice was almost deeper than normal, making your spine stiffen. "I'm not done with you...I...need...more." he grunted, his eyes closing briefly like he were at conflict with himself.

You sat up slightly, noticing this change in his demeanor. "Hey...I-I'm okay, just intense, is all..." you reassured him quietly, trying to offer some comfort and support. "I'm good...do you need to let it out?" you asked, your voice gentle and encouraging.

He nodded vigorously, clearly agreeing with you, but it was evident that he was still holding back his emotions. There was a tension in his expression, a struggle to contain whatever he was feeling inside. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the way his body was tense despite his nodding. It was clear that he needed to release whatever was weighing on him, but something was stopping him from doing so.

He was deeply scared of hurting you, a fear that gnawed at him constantly. He hadn't been so... forward... like this before, and the unfamiliarity of the situation only added to his anxiety. But he couldn't help it. Something primal and intense inside him screamed, clawing at his very skin, urging him to pounce on you.

This internal battle was relentless, and he found himself struggling more each day to keep it at bay, and you had noticed. Despite his best efforts to contain himself, the urge grew stronger and more overpowering with every passing moment. He looked down at you, how your breasts rose and fell with each breath, your pussy ingrained in his nose, that beautiful scent of your arousal...

He couldn't do it anymore.

Kurt crawled over you, his hand wrapped around your ankle and yanked you closer, his now unclothed cock hitting your pussy and he rubbed himself eagerly against you, slickening his shaft so the penetration would be easier on the both of you. However, his foreplay didn't last long, his body too eager and impatient now.

His hips jut forward, his cock sinking inside you in one swift thrust. You cried out in surprise, but he didn't give you a moment of reprieve before he began to thrust hard and fast.

He curled over you, his arms holding your hips up as his cock dove in and out of your cunt, his tail tightened around your body, expertly wrapping around those pretty breasts he loved. "Mine..." he growled deeply, his voice resonating with a possessive intensity. The word was almost lost within the animalistic snarl that erupted from his throat, a primal sound that echoed through the room.

You couldn't do anything but whine and let out mindless babbling as he fucked you into the mattress. You could barely think, the way he was fucking you drove you crazy and you could do nothing but watch him pound into you. He had never been this intense before, and you weren't complaining, of course. His new passion and possessiveness awakened something deep inside you, bringing a desperate mix of arousal and pure need.

"I-I'm going to...cum again..." you managed through your moans, his cock driving against your cervix, most definitely bruised by now, his precum coating it in a soothing balm. It was making you feel more eager for his cum, more addicted to how good he made you feel. You began to want his cock in you constantly, like his precum was some sort of aphrodisiac to your body's own primal instincts.

"Do it, liebling...I want you all over me...let me feel your pleasure." He snarled into your ear, his thrusts quickened as his mischevious tail spade slithered down and rubbed your swollen bud. You watched as he threw your legs over his shoulders and moved over you more, driving down into you over and over until your body felt like it exploded.

You screamed in pure ecstasy, your swollen sex clung to him and practically milked his cock as you creamed all over his dick. He bared his fangs and sunk them into you neck as he shot his load into you, his hips snapping forward once more and driving himself as far as he could possibly go. His cock's spongy head pressed a kiss to your cervix and shot directly into your womb.

Kurt held you tight for several minutes, the both of you a panting, sweaty mess. When he finally let go of you, he pulled out of your warm cunt, hissing slightly at the cruel harshness of the bedroom air. It didn't compare to your comforting, velvet walls. He grumbled in disappointment, still foggy with those desires and not completely himself just yet. You could see it in his eyes, the confusion as he wasn't all there.

You sighed, feeling his cum begin to pool out onto the bed and you whined, you always tried to prevent that. Your hand reached up, scratching his scalp before you gripped one of his horns, tugging him down. "Baby...look what you did...I'm a mess." Your voice whined gently, "See?"

You spread your cunt, letting him see how his cum was absolutely everywhere between your legs. His dark eyes completely focused on your core as he let out deep, yet sharp breaths. Your hand, still holding one of his horns, guided his head down to your pussy. "Clean me up...won't you? It's only fair..."

Kurt's eyes glanced up before he bit your inner thigh, licking up your skin before he dove right back into you, his tongue cleaning all of himself from you...and some. But this only started the cycle all over again...and soon he was on top of you. Even still...there was nothing to complain about.

When his little rut was over, he curled around you, your body a trembling mess and you were full of so many loads of his cum you forgot to count. At one point he didn't even stop thrusting, he just kept going until he physically couldn't anymore. He laid with his body gently wrapped around yours, holding you close with a tenderness that contrasted his previous fucking. His face was buried in your hair, inhaling your sweet scent that filled his senses with pure bliss.

In that moment, he was completely content. The loud, uncomfortable scratching at his soul, which had been a new torment to him since his horns appeared, was now gone. It had been quieted down and soothed by the mere presence of you, your warmth, and the tranquility you brought to his life.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover Images: Sins of Sinister: Dominion 001 (2023); Immortal X-Men #9 (2023); Legion of X #7 (2023)

If you want to be part of my tag list, please leave a 💙.

[xvysarene]

𝔹𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕎𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟

Pairing: LADS Men (All 5) x Fem!Reader Prompt: The moment they realise they want to spend their whole life with you Words: ~1.3k || 200-300 per LI Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Established relationship A/N: Highly recommend giving Urban Zakapa's "Nearness is to love" a listen to capture the mood! I need to be love like this smh

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

⊱ 𝕏𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕣

Xavier has always wondered why he willingly abandons a good slumber and ignores the sting and soreness in his body just to see your face after every challenging mission.

“𝐷𝘰 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝘵 𝑚𝑒 𝘵𝘰 𝑐𝘰𝘰𝑘 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑠𝘰𝑚𝑒𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒?”

The lines of concern etched on your forehead deepen when he hasn't touched the porridge, all while swiftly checking to ensure you haven’t missed tending to any of his injuries.

He realises then, that you opening the door after the first knock, with a home-cooked meal waiting for him even before the first rays of dawn, is why he always seeks you out first.

This is the person he wants to witness a lifetime of sunrises with, the one he never wants to see weighed down by worry due to his line of work.

Words fail him, so he gathers you in his arms. Revelling in the way your body moulds perfectly against his.

“𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝘵 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑐𝑙𝘰𝑠𝑒.”

“𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙,” you chide softly, eyes flicking up to meet his.

The concern in your gaze tugs at something deep within him.

Xavier now understands what it is to be unconditionally loved—to be so genuinely cared for that someone would worry about his well-being above all else.

“𝐼 𝑝𝑟𝘰𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝘵𝘰 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝘰𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝘵 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝘰𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟𝑦𝘵𝑖𝑚𝑒.”

Your eyes soften. “𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦, 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑑𝘰𝑛'𝘵 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝘰𝑛 𝘵𝘰 ℎ𝘰𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒.”

The sensation of your fingers threading through his hair is pure heaven, and as you hold him tighter, you express that this embrace requires no further validation.

⊱ ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕝

Bathed in hues of molten gold and fiery amber, Rafayel watches you set up the dining table with his aunt and Thomas, a scene he will cherish until his very last breath.

The laughter of his favourite people mingling with the rhythmic crash of waves is music to his ears.

“𝑅𝑎𝑓, 𝑑𝘰𝑛'𝘵 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝘵 𝑠𝘵𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒,” you call out. Tucking your hair behind your ear as the salty breeze whips strands across your face.

If only he could immortalise this scene on canvas, Rafayel muses.

But he knows that a painting would never do justice to fully conveying the true essence of this beauty.

“𝛭𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝘰𝜈𝑒𝑑, 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝐼 𝑠𝘵𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝑎 𝑚𝘰𝑚𝑒𝑛𝘵?” The quiver in his voice doesn’t go amiss by anyone’s notice as he approaches.

Thomas quirks a questioning brow, while his aunt's gaze softens, her smile somehow knowing as she glances between the two of you.

Normally, he would have a response ready as Thomas quips about the champagne warming, but not this time. 

Not when everything else other than you fades into insignificance.

Overwhelmed with emotion, he pulls you in a tight hug as soon as you both are away from prying eyes, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“𝑇𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒,” his voice barely above a whisper, “ℎ𝘰𝑤 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝐼 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓, 𝑓𝘰𝑟𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟?”

You gently draw back and hold his cheeks, adoring the crimson spreading onto his face and ears, before murmuring tenderly against his lips, “𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝜈𝑒.”

At that very moment, it feels as though his heart might combust.

As if every whispered longing he's ever had has come true.

⊱ ℤ𝕒𝕪𝕟𝕖

Perplexed is what Zayne always imagined he would feel—wishing to spend the rest of his life with someone is a huge commitment after all.

But now, his heart overflows with nothing but contentment and peace.

With his glasses and book perch on his lap, he attentively listens as you animatedly vent about one of your coworkers, sitting cross-legged beside him on the bed.

“...𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝘰𝑟𝑟𝑦, 𝐼 𝑠ℎ𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝘵 ℎ𝑎𝜈𝑒 𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝘰𝑛. 𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝘵 𝑏𝑒 𝘵𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝘵𝘰𝑑𝑎𝑦.”

Zayne frowns, cursing himself as you mistaken his prolonged silence and composed demeanour for indifference.

Setting his stuff aside, he draws you closer, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead as your arms circle around him.

“𝐿𝘰𝜈𝑒, 𝐼 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝘰𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝘵𝑎𝑙𝑘. 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝘵𝘰𝑝 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝘵ℎ𝘰𝑢𝑔ℎ𝘵𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝘵ℎ 𝑚𝑒.” 

A small content sigh leaves his lips as you nestle closer to him, the warmth of your embrace seeping into his very soul.

Long fingers gently stroke your hair as you voice out concern about adding to his mounting stress with your words.

“𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑐𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. “𝑌𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝜈𝘰𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑎𝘵 ℎ𝘰𝑚𝑒. 𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟𝑦𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒𝘵𝘵𝑒𝑟, 𝑑𝘰𝑛'𝘵 𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝘰𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑖𝑠𝑒.”

Sometimes he wonders if he truly deserves the depth of love and understanding you provide, a treasure more valuable than any he has ever known.

He is not an easy man to love, yet you wholeheartedly embrace his complexities.

In that quiet moment, with the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtain, he knows with certainty that you occupy a space in his life that no one else can fill.

⊱ 𝕊𝕪𝕝𝕦𝕤

“𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝘰𝑙𝑢𝘵𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑓𝑓𝘰𝘰𝑛!” your voice trembles with fury as you cock your gun at him. “𝑊ℎ𝘰 𝑖𝑛 𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝘵 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑖𝑛𝘵𝘰 𝑎 𝘵𝑟𝑎𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑦? 𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑐𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝜈𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑑!”

Despite having just slain dozens of degenerates and currently staring down the barrel of your gun, Sylus’s head is oddly silent.

The sight of his enemies’ blood staining your clothes, your hair tousling messily from its ponytail, and the blazing intensity in your eyes—every detail captivates him completely.

Fuck him, you’re perfect.

Exasperated by his grin, you continue calling him all the names in the book: reckless idiot, brainless fool, dumbass…

But he’s your idiot.

Sylus watches your eyes widen as he closes the distance between you, your mouth opening to protest, “𝐷𝘰𝑛’𝘵 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑘𝑖—” but before you can finish, he discards your gun aside with alarming speed, lips crashing against yours with a fervour that matches your fury.

It’s not a gentle kiss, it’s an explosion of emotions; a release of all the anger, fear, and love that has been building up.

“𝐼’𝑚 𝑠𝘰𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝘰𝑢,” he says breathlessly, resting his forehead against yours.

Strong hands pull you closer, and he smiles, sensing your fury starting to dissipate as you melt into his cocoon. “𝛢𝑠 𝑙𝘰𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝜈𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢, 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝘵, 𝑛𝘰 𝘰𝑛𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝘵𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒—𝑢𝑠—𝑑𝘰𝑤𝑛 𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑦.”

When you respond to him with another creative jibe, calling him a “𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑘-ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝘰𝑎𝑓”, his deep laughter booms through the room.

No one else can and will challenge him like you do, and he lives for it.

Caught in the back-and-forth of your wit and spirit, craving the spark you kindle within him with every word.

⊱ ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕓

“𝐶𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑏!”

The moment your wide smile graces your features upon spotting him down the store aisle, it robs out all the oxygen in his lungs.

Caleb has always known that this relationship is different from his past ones—the thought of seeing you in his future teasing his brain occasionally.

But when you skip to him, with excitement dancing in your eyes, it hits him that he will give everything just to witness that radiance again.

Every day for the rest of his life.

“𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒!” You slip your hand into his and intertwine your fingers together. “𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝘰𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝘵𝑒𝑚 𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑦’𝜈𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝘵 𝑢𝑝 𝑠𝘰 ℎ𝑖𝑔ℎ.”

He’ll let you lead him to whichever section of the market, and he'll damn well help you get whatever you want, even if it’s questionable whether you need it or not.

Another mini planter for your succulents? Sure, he’ll even buy all of the different designs for you.

When you ask him if he’s alright, noticing his dazed expression, he straight up pulls you into his embrace and kisses the top of your head, murmuring, “𝐼 ℎ𝘰𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢’𝑙𝑙 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝘵𝘰 𝑔𝑒𝘵 𝘵ℎ𝘰𝑠𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑖𝘵𝑒𝑚𝑠.”

If he is misty-eyed amidst the bustling grocery store, it doesn’t concern him in the least.

You smile up at him in confusion, noticing the sentimental mood in his eyes. Standing on tiptoes, you give him a quick peck and melt in the warmth of his arms, feeling the beat of his heart against your cheek.

No other place feels as secure and comforting as being in each other’s arms.

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST

[sugurusfavemonkey]

say you'll be my darlin' - kento nanami (2/2)

*image: soshiu_pasu*

valentine's day special summary: kento just made you not only his valentine but also his girlfriend (this is where the pure and unadulterated smut comes in - minors do not interact) part 1/2

Kento's plan had only encompassed providing you with a memorable Valentine's day and, perhaps, building a foundation for a relationship with you in the near future. Yet, somehow, he had gone and gotten himself a girlfriend.

The term felt so juvenile, yet he couldn't care less because he felt young. The knowledge that you were just as enraptured created a bubble of blissful elation Nanami had no intention of bursting.

He had piled up the plates and was in the process of standing up, having just pushed his chair from underneath the table when you sprung up from your seat, startling the poor man.

"The restroom is-" he tried to direct you as you made your way around the table, assuming you wanted to use the toilette, but you hushed Nanami by wedging yourself between him and the table. "Sweetheart?" the way he looked up at you in question nearly had you losing your nerve.

You steeled yourself though, swallowing hard and placing your hands on his shoulders. Kento, for all his puzzlement, opened up his knees to make space for you in between his legs but remained otherwise neutral. The way his jaw clenched and hands flexed on his thighs wasn't lost on you, bless his heart.

"I want to show my appreciation to you. May I?" you spoke quietly into the otherwise silent room.

He wetted his dry lips with his tongue and your eyes immediately dropped to follow the brief gesture before mirroring it while he searched your face with a weighted gaze, "we haven't even had dessert yet."

"I have the dessert I want right here, Kento." You slapped yourself in the back for the quick comeback and the hitch it elicited in Kento's breath.

"I don't want to be disrespectful-"

"You've been a perfect gentleman all night. Hell! All your life, I'd bet," you stopped him before he took the blame for your forwardness. "Tell me I'm moving too fast and I'll stop."

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" Kento smiled gently up at you. The position you put yourself in rendered both of you vulnerable in different ways and you cherished how he so easily entrusted you with seeing this side of him.

"Hmm…" you shook your head, "consent goes both ways."

"I adore how thoughtful you are, my love."

You're unsure if it's the pet name or the intensity behind his gaze, but a shiver ran down your spine.

"I don't want you to feel pressured into anything. This dinner, the flowers… they don't require any retribution," Kento assured you once more, insistent, but you knew he was merely making sure to give you an out in case that's what you wanted.

"I know that. But I want to," you assured him, hopefully conveying just how much you meant the words with your eyes as well. "Consider it my gift to you. I am your Valentine too after all, am I not?"

You didn't give him a chance to answer before you sat on his lap, each of your legs wrapping around his waist. At first, Kento hesitated, his hands hovering awkwardly until they found your hips and slowly glided up to settle on your waist.

You leaned closer until your breaths mingled together and your head spun dangerously with his aromatic fragrance taking over your senses. Nanami is the one who closed the space between you, eyes falling shut as your lips connected.

It's nothing more than a peck, full of unspoken feelings and repressed longing. The air feels charged with tension, your heart pulsing loudly in your ears, temperature running hot at the sheer brush of his warm lips to yours.

He nudged your nose with his before giving you another peck. And another. And then pressing for a bit longer, more intensely, tilting his head so his lips fit better with yours. You let your hands follow the natural curve of his shoulder, one sliding down his back and the other finding its way into the buzzed hair on the back of his head.

With the first brush of his tongue, you were ruined. You opened up to him like a blooming flower. Your entire body tingled pleasantly as he let himself consume you and you let yourself be consumed. Warm muscle exploring and mapping out your mouth sensually.

Nanami felt as if a dam was breaking as he poured the yearning from every moment he had spent craving you into the kiss, his hands tightening on your waist until you were sure he had left fingerprints on your skin. You pressed yourself even closer, moaning into the kiss when that did nothing to relieve the ache you felt, your teeth briskly clashing together in your haste.

You only separated when the need for air became too much to bear, a string of spit still connecting your lips.

"You have no idea what you do to me." Kento gasped.

"I think I do." You chirped teasingly as you ground yourself down on his lap, feeling a distinct hardness pressing into your covered center.

"Fuck." That night was full of firsts because you're absolutely certain you had never heard Kento cuss before. "Don't do that," he warned you, eyes glinting dangerously.

"Or what?" You challenged with a giggle as you did the exact opposite, pressing yourself down on him once more. Whimpering at the silver of pleasure it gave you, a teaser of what was to come.

Kento almost growled your name, his breath labored, red blossoming from his exposed upper chest and neck. He gave you no indication before he pushed the dirty dishes further up the table and picked you up with ease, laying you on the table in front of him and leaning over your sprawled form, his body slotted between your spread thighs ad he kissed you again with even more fervor.

Or that, you guessed.

His lips drifted down to your jaw and then to your neck, kissing and biting at the skin, all while rutting into you rhythmically. His ministration had you gasping for air, your head lolling back to the table. You whined pitifully when he abruptly detached himself from you.

"Sit up for me, love" He commanded. And you obeyed… How could you not when you had Kento Nanami in between your legs? His fingers held onto the hem of your top, giving it a few impish tugs, "may I?"

You nodded, wordlessly lifting your arms to aid him in removing the offending cloth. His eyes fell to your cleavage and his mouth fell open, pupils taking over until you could barely see his iris. You used his distraction to remove your bra, throwing it aside the same he had done to your top. Kento let out a guttural sound, something feral from deep within as his hands softly caressed your breasts.

"You're so beautiful," he huffed before he leaned down, pushing you back on the table surface with another kiss. You heard the crashing sound of some dish falling to the ground but neither of you paid it any mind, too absorbed in each other. His lips drifted down to your jaw and then to your neck, kissing and biting at the skin, all while rutting into you rhythmically. Kento's ministration had you gasping for air, your head lolling back to the table.

"K-Kento!"

"Yes, love?" you felt his chest vibrating with his low croon against your skin.

"Please," your fingers searched for purchase on the cotton of his shirt fruitlessly, you feared your nails could have even ripped the material in your desperate pursuit.

"What do you need? Tell me." Nanami had his hands on your chest, massaging the skin nimbly.

"Touch me," you were very close to just begging for it.

"Hmm, but I am touching you."

You rolled your eyes in both pleasure in exasperation, unsurprised his matter-of-fact manners came out even then.

"For f-fuck's sake. Don't- ah," he pinched one of your nipples. "Don't make me spell it out, Ken."

"Right here?" He questioned as he squeezed your tit. "Or maybe here?" The palm of one hand pressed to your covered mound as his middle and ring fingers found your clit even through your clothes and pressed down hard. You moaned.

"Yes! Yes, right there! Please!"

"How could I ever deny you when you beg so sweetly?"

His finger moved to your pants, teasing the button as he searched your face for permission. You huffed a breathy "yes", nodding wildly.

With your consent, Kento unbuttoned and unzipped your pants, pulling them down as he let himself fall to his knees in front of you. Right where he belonged, he thought to himself. He removed both of your shoes, hands stopping to massage your heels before your pants were off. Kento held your leg by your ankle, dropping a few kisses to your calf before setting it down and making space between your legs by pushing your thighs apart.

You lifted yourself on your elbows to peer down at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

"I thought I was the one showing my appreciation?"

"What if I want to show my appreciation as well?"

"You already," Kento kissed up the supple skin of your thighs making your voice tremble. "Hmm, you already did. It's my turn."

"Then let me have this. Worshipping you is the greatest pleasure you could bestow me, love."

"Kento! I-" He bit down on your inner thigh, so close to where you needed him the most, "Ah! Fuck! That's n-not fair."

He nuzzled at your pussy through the soaked lace of your flimsy panties, fingers wrapping around each of your legs to keep them open when the sudden touch had you trying to squeeze them together, "did you wear these for me?"

"Just for you, Kento. All for you," you sighed.

"Look at you. So pretty. So wet too," he murmured contently, his eyes locked on the wet patch on your underwear, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin with each word.

Your hand found its way into his hair, nails brushing his scalp when he finally dared to lick a stripe over the thong, a pointer finger sliding it to the side before doing it again.

Kento outwardly moaned when he tasted your slickness on his tongue, "you taste divine, my love. So much better than I imagined."

You wanted to tease him, question how many times he pictured that scenario, just how often he touched himself to the thought of you, but you could only cry out as he slid his tongue through your folds, the tip of his tongue flicking over your clit and your finger tangle in the strands of his hair.

You whimpered at the wet heat of his mouth on you. It felt like he was trying to devour you, pussy first. His tongue alternated between flicking over your clit playfully and running along your folds. It made you moan as you ground your hips upward. His tongue finally relented its attack on your clit., thrusting deeper into your heat. Nanami groaned, loving the feeling as you tugged on his hair to push his face deeper into your cunt. His cock twitched in his pants, precum probably staining through his briefs and pants.

"Fuck, Ken. Feels so good," you panted.

Nanami glanced up to meet your lidded eyes. The sight of your flushed cheeks had him moaning into your pussy, his hips thrusting helplessly in the air at the same time you jerked your hips. He stopped momentarily and snaked an arm up, pointer and middle fingers breaching through your parted lips and pressing down on your tongue, "wet them for me, love."

You clamped your lips around his fingers promptly, sucking in your cheeks as your tongue twirled around them until there was drool spilling from the corner of your mouth.

Kento pecked your lower lips without breaking the eye contact, "such a good girl."

His praise went straight to your cunt, creating even more slick. You could feel a puddle forming on the table underneath you with how wet you were.

His hand slid from your mouth, down your jaw and followed the curve of your neck only to pause briefly to grope your tit and give your nipple a firm tug before continuing on his trajectory down your body, the heel of his palm pressing firmly to your lower stomach just as his lips attached themselves to your cunt again. You kept making small sounds through it all, breath hitching with each of the breaks he took in the path.

Nanami used his wet fingers to rub small circles on your clit, eating you out like a man starved, craving to have your release on his tongue. You started babbling incoherently, throwing your head back and shutting your eyes when the feeling became too much.

For a second you thought you felt him spelling his name on your clit with his digits, but that could also have been something your fuzzy brain came up with.

"I'm s-so close! Ah!" You moan loudly, "gonna cum-"

And then the coil snap, black spots taking over your vision as pleasure explodes inside your veins, thighs shaking and squeezing his head, Kento only groans as he eagerly lapped up your slick. He worked you through your high until you were pushing his head away.

You're a panting mess, laying there on his dinner table as you try to recover and all Kento could think as he stood up was that you looked like a dream.

"Are you alright?" Kento rubbed the outside of your thighs up and down, still slotted in between them.

"Yup. Just- Help me up?"

"Of course!"

He quickly stepped back holding both of your hands firmly so you could anchor yourself as you sat up and then slid to the ground on unsteady legs. You took a deep breath and mumbled a hoarse "thank you". Once you were certain your legs wouldn't fail you, you squeezed his hands, signaling it would be fine to let you go.

Your eyes drifted to the wet patch and the very clear tent on his pants. You couldn't help but feel a new wave of desire watching over you. You licked your lips and stepped until you were flush against him, fisting the lapels of his shirt and pulling him down. You didn't care that he tasted like you or that his lips were still stained with your juices as you eagerly kissed him. Kento hummed into the kiss, arms circling your waist.

He let you take the reins, felt your clumsy fingers struggle to open each of the buttons of his shirt, and helped when you pushed the open garment down his shoulders and arms. Nanami only stopped you when you tried to unbuckle his belt, his large hands circling your wrists and pulling them up. You whined into the kiss, biting his lower lip and pulling away.

"Let me return the favor. Please."

"Fuck. Tasting you got on the very edge of the precipice I wouldn't last if you went down on me, beautiful."

"That's fine, I-"

"It's not fine," he cut you off, placing a tender kiss on the tip of your nose. "It's not fine because right now I need to fuck you. Will you let me?"

You shivered, lips parting in wonder. The tension on his shoulders and blown pupils did little to hide his hunger and you weren't faring much better, "yes, please."

You were embarrassed by the shriek you let out as he easily picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and walked around as if you weighed less than a feather, "I promise I'll give you a tour of the apartment tomorrow morning," (which he does so after bringing you a lovely arranged tray with breakfast in bed and spoon feed you yogurt with chopped fruit before you finally have enough and push him down on the bed to suck him dry).

His strength became even more pronounced when he held you up with only one arm to open the door to his bedroom and before you knew it, he had you laid down and spread over the comforter on his mattress. You admired his shifting muscles as he toed off his shoes, unbuckled his belt, and removed his pants until he was standing before you in only his briefs. Nanami was truly a sight for sore eyes, with his mussed-up hair (probably your fault), heaving chest, and deep v-line that gave way and pointed down to a badly concealed dick. 'Happy trail' never felt like a more fitting moniker, the meticulously trimmed blonde hair a path to paradise.

"You're beautiful," you had been so engrossed in gawking at him that you failed to notice he had been doing the exact same to you, soft hazel eyes then meeting yours. You knew that small compliment had you blushing, you started to sit up, legs going to fall close, but Kento stopped the movement by kneeling between them, "don't. Let me see you."

"Fine. But you gotta let me see you too," you bargained with a tip of your chin to his cock. You knew for a fact he was positively packing since the shape of it was so clearly apparent too.

"That can be easily arranged."

You watched in bated breath as he slid his briefs down, revealing his thick, veiny… perfect cock. The tip is red and angry, precum dripping down its sides. You caught yourself wondering if he would even fit.

Kento kneeled back on the bed and jerked you forward on the bed so your head rested on a pillow and climbed after you. He reached above you for his wallet on the bedside table and picked through it until he found a condom and dropped both back on the bed, his attention shifting back to you.

"We don't have to use it. I'm on the pill. And I trust."

He wasn't sure if his cock twitched over the prospect of feeling you whole, with no barriers or if it was your trust that turned him on so much.

"My last annual check-up came up clean, but I will do nothing you don't want to, love."

"I want to feel you, Kento. Every inch of you," you were trying to go for seducing, but you were pretty sure you just sounded desperate.

He pressed a finger to your entrance, thumb catching your clit in mean circles to test the waters, and then a second finger, thrusting them lightly. It's when he starts scissoring them to prepare you for what was to come that you let yourself melt.

"Ken, I'm ready, please," you cried wantonly, fingers digging into the comforter as your entire body quivered.

"Are you, love?"

"Hmhmm. So ready." You nodded maniacally, desperate for more. Famished for him.

He slotted his thighs to yours, opening you up for him, and coated himself in your slick as he rubbed his cockhead head up and down your folds, his lips falling apart, gaze locked on the tantalizing motion. When it caught on your entrance you whined, arms reaching to pull him in closer and ankles locking behind his back, miserably trying to pull him in. Kento smirked and finally pushed the first inch inside. Your mouth fell open and your head lolled back at the stretch, nails digging into his back.

He hissed, shifting to his forearms and he ducked his head down to kiss you, pushing further in, feeling your tightness envelop him until he's bottomed out. You gasped into the kiss. It felt like he was so far inside of you he reached your guts.

It was perfection. Pure, unadulterated perfection. Kento was certain he had just made it into heaven.

"Fuuuuuck," you whined pathetically, "you fill me up so good."

He held to your waist as if he was scared you were only a figment of his imagination as he gradually started to move his hips.

You were putty under his ministrations, holding on for dear life and he fucked you nice and slow.

"Kento," you panted, tilting your head back as he kissed down your throat. He ground deep into your cunt, grunting as you tightened around him.

"You're doing so good for me, my love."

The room was hot and sticky, your bodies moving in tandem. Your little sobs with each new thrust like music to his ears. More than heaven, Kento felt home and, given the chance, he would spend the rest of his life worshipping you. He was so fucking close, but he needed you to cum alongside him.

You cried when he adjusted the angle, "fuck, keep going. Right there!" You supplicated.

Nanami complied, hitting that same spot with hard thrusts and a precision that upheld his title as the 7:3 sorcerer. His hand found your clit again and your breath hitched. He sped up then, hitting your sweet spot again and again and again until you're nothing but a drooly mess.

"It's like you were made for me," he whispered reverently and the praise was all you needed as his next thrust shoved you over the edge. You clamped down around his cock crying out.

When you came, Kento groaned into your skin, working you through it until he felt you go lax. He slid He slides his hands under your ass, lifting you as he shuffled onto his haunches, and he sunk impossibly deeper into your pussy.

"Ah. you're so fucking deep," you panted, completely at his mercy as he began to rock you on top of his cock.

"You're talking me so well,” He promised, watching his cock disappear inside your dripping cunt, lost in the pleasure of being inside of you.

His eyes flickered to yours, an angel spread on his bed for him and moaned. Not even his sweetest dreams could've conjured such image… such feeling.

"I-I think I'm close again. Ken, I'm- Oh, fuck! Yes! Please, please, don't stop!"

Kento clenched his jaw and tightened his grip, bouncing you on his dick with such force you could do nothing but holding on for the ride. He groaned, pistoling his hips up, barely holding onto his own release.

"Think you can come again for me?"

You nodded feverishily.

"Then rub at your sweet little nub for me," he commanded in between grunts and shaky breaths. You did as you were told, rubbing at your clit using your mixed juices until you see stars.

Nanami thrusted a few more times before he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled you down hard, hitting your cervix and that was enough for you to come, mouth agape in a silent cry as your head fell back, body convulsing and walls fluttering around his cock. With a low groan of your name echoing in the room, Kento felt his cock pulsing, painting your walls with his hot cum. He rocked into you a few more time until you stopped shaking and let the both of you fall back to the bed, mindful not to crush you under his weight.

You sighed, caressing his back as he leaned forward to rest his forehead on your heaving chest, both of you basking in the luxurious bliss of an orgasm.

You didn't know it then, but at that moment Kento decided you would be the woman he would marry, no matter how long it took for you to see it as well.

taglist: @madamechrissy @elliehenry24 @vivivillian

a/n: idc, consent is hot.

©sugurusfavemonkey 2025┃all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate or otherwise modify this work

[yierrem]

dating headcanons - zzzero men edition pt. 2 ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

ft. gn! reader x asaba harumasa, billy kid, and seth lowell ; a follow up to my previous dating hcs (which can be found here) and a response to a request ( ^ω^ ) first post of the year（≧∇≦）i hope you enjoy reading!!

asaba harumasa

very clingy. when you're not together, he'd be texting you random little updates or beg for your attention just for the sake of talking to you if calling momentarily isn't an option. sometimes he tries to use you as an excuse to get out of work, but after he's done it a couple of times, you've become immune to always bending to his whims and suddenly he's whining about how you don't love him anymore.

["wait i'll look at your texts later brb love u ^3^" "so you hate me."]

an avid quality time enjoyer, if i've ever seen one. he's content with lazing around with you or doing mundane tasks that don't require much physical effort. likes cuddling against you when you're just sitting engrossed in doing something with your hands and reading or watching something together.

even though he usually appears and acts lighthearted, deep down, he's genuinely happy with you and the relationship you share. he cherishes every moment you can spend together and wishes it could go on for as long as he lives. you're the person he refers to as family when on one of his much-dreaded doctor appointments.

alongside the nightmares he already has regarding his sickness, he'd have times when he'd wake up in a cold sweat from dreams of losing or leaving you and the people he cares for. thankfully, on the days you sleep over, he has you; he's comforted by the sight of your sleeping figure and clings to you for the rest of the night.

on a lighter note, sharing a bed with this man is probably a chaotic experience on a dreamless night; initially, you'd both fall into slumber comfortably cuddled against each other, but the following morning, one of you would be seconds away from suffocating in a vice grip.

billy kid

loves playing games with you. he's usually competitive when playing against you but when you're both on a team together, he's suddenly the biggest cheerleader there is. if both of you lose, that's totally fine! you'll get it next time. what matters to him is that you had fun together.

deeply appreciates it and enjoys when you match him nerd-for-nerd, even if you don't share a lot of similar interests. you take turns randomly info-dumping about any piece of media or activity you're into and both of you pay genuine attention to whatever the other is talking about. he loves listening to you passionately talk or share anything about any topic because you do the same for him.

adding on to the previous point: both of you make jokes about liking your favorite fictional characters or celebrities more, just to be playfully petty.

["if you had to choose between me or monica, who would you pick?" "...well, yes!" "..." "alright, then. between me and /insert favorite character/--" "that's unimportant."]

after spending so much time with him, you already know which maintenance products he likes for himself or his guns. kind of like how other people know what shampoo or body wash their partner prefers. when you see he's running out and you buy them without telling him, he'll notice and be weeping tears of joy.

if you take a while to open up to him about certain things, he's alright with that and will tell you to take your time or give you the space you need. he's been the same when it comes to sharing his past with other people and understands that some things do take courage to tell.

seth lowell

despite having been in a relationship for a while, he most likely still gets easily flustered from any vaguely flirty quip and intimate gesture that comes from you. you could use this knowledge to your advantage but do have mercy on the poor guy.

[there was one instance where you gave him a quick peck on the lips without giving much thought to it before leaving and all he could do was stay where he was with his brain buffering for a whole minute.]

even though he's somewhat shy about expressing his admiration or appreciation for you and sometimes stumbles through his words when doing so, he's sincere in everything he says and does for you.

you're one of the very few people he trusts with touching his tail and ears. it's come to the point where when you're both just laying together, he wouldn't mind the feeling of your fingers gently rubbing on a certain spot on his ears while you run your fingers through his hair.

he appreciates that you see him for who he is and acknowledge his efforts to get where he is now. your affirmations, whether spoken or unspoken, mean much to him and he feels like he can truly be comfortable when he's around you.

sometimes, he unknowingly acts or does very attractive things and it just blows your mind. he'd steer you by the waist from bumping into things or, if you're shorter, accidentally pin you against a wall/surface when trying to reach for something from a high place because he just wants to help! you should be more careful, you know. but you've already mentally imploded while your sweet, sweet boyfriend remains clueless.

[multific]

A Wedding Beneath The Moonlight

Count Orlok x Reader

Summary: Every girl's dream is to find a man and have the perfect wedding. But everyone has different meanings of perfection.

The night was still, and the air was cold, carrying the soft scent of pine from the nearby forest.

Above you, the full moon cast its glow across the darkened grounds of the ancient castle.

Tonight was the night of your wedding.

You stood alone in one of the upper chambers, looking at yourself in your reflection in a tarnished mirror.

The dress you wore was unlike anything mortal hands could create.

Crafted by Nosferatu himself, he insisted on making your dress.

The dress shimmered faintly in the moonlight, a fabric of deep midnight blue that flowed like a shadow around you.

Tiny silver threads were sewn into the material, resembling stars scattered across a night sky.

The bodice was fitted, embroidered with delicate patterns of ancient symbols, his symbols, while the long sleeves clung to your arms before flaring out at the wrists.

A faint breeze moved through the open window, causing the veil resting on your head to move gently.

It was sheer, as thin as mist, and it framed your face perfectly.

You ran your hands down the length of the dress, your fingers trembling slightly with anticipation.

This was the moment you had dreamed of, literally.

The moment you would bind yourself forever to him, the creature who had once been a shadow in the night but had now become the very centre of your world.

There was no priest, no audience. It would be just the two of you and the moon, as it had always been meant to be.

A soft knock echoed through the heavy wooden door, and you turned, your heart quickening.

When the door creaked open, there he stood, your beloved.

His pale skin seemed even more pale beneath the moonlight, his crimson eyes glowing softly as they locked with yours.

He was dressed in a long, dark cloak of velvet, the collar high and stiff, giving him an air of regal elegance. Around his neck hung an ancient pendant, a symbol of his lineage. His heavy breathing filled the room as your heart hammered against your ribs.

“You look…” He paused, his voice low and careful. “You look like the night itself, beautiful and eternal.”

“And you look like my forever.” you offered him a shy smile.

He extended his hand to you, and you took it, his cool fingers wrapping around yours. Together, you descended the winding stone staircase, your footsteps echoing softly in the silence.

The air grew colder as you stepped outside into the courtyard, you shivered slightly under the cold air.

There, beneath the open sky, the ceremony would take place. Just as you wished.

No torches or lanterns, the moon provided all the light you required.

Count Orlok turned to face you, his eyes locking with yours.

He held both your hands in his, and though his touch was cold, it brought you comfort. You could feel the strength in him, the ancient power that moved through his veins, yet there was something else.

A small humanity, only for you, remaining in him alive.

“I have lived for centuries. Through endless nights, I have wandered alone, never imagining that I would find something to make eternity enjoyable. But then I found you. You, who brought light into my darkness. You, who showed me that even a creature of the dark can love. I vow to you, to protect you, to cherish you, to honour you. You are my light, and I will spend eternity by your side.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you gave his hands a gentle squeeze. “And I vow to you, My Count, to stand by your side, through darkness and light. You are my heart, my soul, my love. I choose you, Count Orlok, for all eternity."

Slowly, he lifted your hand to his lips, brushing a kiss on your knuckles. His eyes gleamed with something more than love.

“There is only one thing left. A kiss to seal our vows,” he said, his voice a whisper.

With a gentle touch, he cupped your face in his hands. As he leaned in, you closed your eyes, you fully gave yourself to him.

When his lips met yours, it was as if the entire world disappeared, leaving only the two of you, bound together beneath the watchful eyes of the moon.

The kiss was long and lingering, filled with the promise of forever.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes still closed, you smiled up at him, heart full.

“You are my wife now,” he said, his voice soft but filled with possessive pride. “My empress of the night.” He slipped a beautiful gold ring on your finger.

“And you are my husband. My eternal love.” A ring for him too.

As the wind howled with fear. People living close by felt the coldness of the night. The dread. The world was scared.

And while others trembled with fear, under the same moon, Count Orlok and his bride began theirs forever.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[gotta-winwin]

childhoodbestie!chan x reader

a/n: putting an angst warning + spoiler here right now so be warned ❗dino just gives off downbad!childhoodbesties! vibes sooo hard + a shameless parallel to the beloved laurie from little women. my love you will always be famous.

childhoodbestie!chan who’s been following you around like some gremlin since birth. It helped that your two families lived awfully close together, leading to you bumping into Chan every time you went out.

childhoodbestie!chan who has been in your class at school from preschool all the way to your senior year of high school. some people mistake the two of you for twins and teachers have long since been used to the fact that the two of you came as a duo. It’s not uncommon for you to be asked “where’s chan?” whenever he wasn’t right next to you - as if you’re somehow supposed to know where he wandered off to. (you usually do)

childhoodbestie!chan, who has been copying off your homework since homework was required. It���s gotten to the point where he doesn’t even need to ask, shamelessly copying your work from the other side of the desk. He’s mastered the art of reading upside down just to copy off of you easier. 

childhoodbestie!chan, who shares all his food with you without complaint. It’s second nature, how he unconsciously offers you anything he’s eating, not even pausing through whatever anecdote he was ranting to you about.

childhoodbestie!chan, whose friends are naturally your friends. You don’t really remember when he got adopted into a massive friend group of 12 other boys, but hanging out with them became natural and you integrated into the group as a vital member. 

childhoodbestie!chan who still cries into your shoulder every time someone breaks his heart. His childlike innocence and sweetness has not changed despite the constant mishaps with love, and neither has his instincts to run to you every time he needed a solution - or a hug. 

childhoodbestie!chan who ignores how he’s loved you since he first learned how to ride a bike. He pretends he doesn’t remember the way you teased him for not knowing how, racing past him in the purple bike his parents had given you for your birthday. He ignores the fact that he’s been in love with you since you were both six. 

childhoodbestie!chan, who leaves his house no matter what ungodly hour it may be to go pick you up. He never questions why you need a lift, never mentions the puffy eyes and pouting lips you sport as you shuffle into his car. He knows you’re both still young and stupid and figuring things out - he’s fine waiting, waiting for the day you really see him. 

childhoodbestie!chan, who knows you still see him as the same little boy who you had to defend on the playground. No matter how hard he tries to remind you that he’s grown - fending off jerks for you at the bar, loudly bragging about his sexcapdes to remind you he’s a full grown man (albeit not his brightest move), even carrying all your luggages up the stairs in one go - he knows it’s not enough. 

childhoodbestie!chan, who has a cute story behind every gift he’s ever gotten you. Whether it was for your birthday or christmas or even valentines (he was your valentine one year for fun and he still cherishes that moment), he has a little backstory and anecdote for why he got you it. 

childhoodbestie!chan, who knows your likes and dislikes by heart. It’s gotten to the point where his friends find it a bit concerning, when he will randomly point at something and go “oh, Y/N loves that” or “Y/N would have killed to see that.” His friends know his heart is cracking a little each time he brings you up so casually, knowing it’ll never be in a you talk about your girlfriend all the time type of way.

childhoodbestie!chan who watches as you fall in love with someone else. 

childhoodbestie!chan who can only listen and watch as someone else treats you right, feeling happy that you’re happy yet still feeling a little slighted. He can’t help but admit to himself that maybe he actually thought you’d fall in love with him one day. 

childhoodbestie!chan who’s the only male bridesmaid at your wedding. He makes sure the day goes perfectly, despite feeling like he wants to die in the process.

childhoodbestie!chan, who admits to jeonghan one night half-drunk and through tears that he could've sworn you'd love him eventually. that 20 years was enough to love him. right?

childhoodbestie!chan, who knows childhood bestie is all he’ll ever be. 

[milfsloverblog]

Secret Benefits (part 9)

(Previous parts here)

Sugar mommy!Larissa Weems x fem!reader

N/A: Huh you’ll probably hate me after reading this chapter. Please send all complaints to my lawyer (myself, but less evil). Enjoy and don’t forget to reblog and let me know what you thought :)

The aroma of garlic and simmering herbs filled the air as you slipped on the apron Larissa had handed you. “A cooking class?” you mused, tying the strings around your waist and glancing at her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting this.”

Larissa smirked, adjusting her apron with effortless elegance. “You did say you were tired of the usual dinner dates. I thought something hands-on might be more entertaining.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “And here I was thinking you’d take me to the opera or something equally extravagant.”

“I do enjoy surprising you,” she admitted, smoothing down the front of your apron before reaching for your hand. “Besides, I rather like the idea of cooking something together. It requires teamwork.”

The instructor called for attention, launching into a demonstration on making fresh pasta. You focused on kneading the dough, your hands working through the soft mixture as Larissa stole subtle glances at you. Every now and then, her fingers would brush against yours, a gentle reminder of the connection you had built over the past two months.

Larissa maintained control in the ways you had come to cherish. When your dough wasn’t coming together properly, she stepped behind you, her hands settling over yours, guiding your movements with a quiet authority that made your breath hitch. “Like this,” she murmured against your ear, her voice low and firm. You followed her lead, pressing and folding as she directed, your body instinctively responding to her presence.

As you shaped the pasta, she remained close, ensuring you executed each step properly. When the instructor walked by and complimented your technique, Larissa gave you an approving nod, as if the praise was hers to grant. It sent a familiar warmth through you, a mixture of pride and something deeper, something that kept you tethered to her.

When it came time to cook the pasta, she didn’t hesitate to take control of the process, ensuring everything was done to her exact standards. She plated both portions herself, serving yours with an air of quiet satisfaction. “Taste,” she instructed, offering you a fork.

You obeyed, savouring the bite as her gaze lingered on you. “Delicious,” you murmured, though you weren’t entirely sure whether you were referring to the meal or the way she was looking at you.

Later that night, as you curled up on the couch in Larissa’s quarters, she received a message that made her posture stiffen ever so slightly. You raised an eyebrow, setting down your wine glass. “Bad news?”

Larissa hesitated before exhaling softly. “Morticia Addams is back in my life.”

Your stomach tensed. “Morticia Addams. As in… your Morticia Addams?”

Her lips pressed together in a tight line. “She’s hardly mine anymore.”

“And why, exactly, is she back?”

“Her daughter, Wednesday, has enrolled at Nevermore.”

When Morticia arrived at Nevermore, she carried herself with the same effortless grace that Larissa remembered far too well. She was dressed in black silk, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders in waves, and when her gaze met Larissa’s, a slow, knowing smile curved her lips.

“Larissa,” she purred, stepping forward as if no time had passed at all. “You look radiant, as always.”

Larissa kept her expression composed, her hands clasped in front of her. “Morticia. It’s been a long time.”

“Far too long,” Morticia agreed, her gaze sweeping over Larissa in quiet appraisal. “I must say, it feels almost poetic to be back here. Nostalgic, even.”

Larissa inclined her head. “I imagine so. Though I trust this visit is more about Wednesday than nostalgia.”

“Of course,” Morticia said lightly. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the… familiar comforts of the past.”

Larissa’s jaw tightened. “Wednesday will be in excellent hands here.”

“I have no doubt.” Morticia tilted her head, watching her carefully. “I heard something interesting, you know. A little rumour that you have someone special in your life.”

Larissa’s expression didn’t waver. “I do.”

Morticia’s smile sharpened. “How lovely. I must admit, I never imagined you settling down. It suits you.”

Larissa exhaled slowly. “Is there anything else you needed?”

Morticia chuckled, reaching out to smooth a nonexistent wrinkle from Larissa’s sleeve. “Not at the moment. But I do hope we can catch up properly some time. Perhaps over dinner?”

“I’m afraid I’ll be quite busy.”

“Shame,” Morticia murmured, her fingers lingering just a second too long. “But I suppose I’ll see you around.”

You took a slow sip of your wine, considering your next words carefully. “How did she react to seeing you again?”

Larissa’s gaze flickered away. “She was… familiar. As she always is. But when she learned I had a partner, she became rather insistent on reminiscing about old times.”

You set your glass down, tilting your head. “How insistent?”

A pause. “Flirtatious.”

Your fingers curled against the cushion beneath you. You had never met Morticia, but you knew of her. The way Larissa had once loved her. The way she had never quite spoken of what had been left unresolved between them.

“And does she know about me?”

“She knows I have someone.” A shadow of something unreadable passed over Larissa’s expression. “She doesn’t know how young you are.”

Your lips quirked, though there was little humour in it. “Do you think that would make a difference?”

Larissa sighed, reaching for your hand. “I think it might only encourage her.”

A sharp sting of irritation settled in your chest. “That’s not exactly comforting.”

“She doesn’t matter,” Larissa said firmly. “You know that, don’t you?”

But the uncertainty gnawed at you. Because Morticia was beautiful, poised, and had a history with Larissa that you couldn’t compete with.

Before you could say anything else, Larissa’s phone buzzed again. She sighed, picking it up—and you watched as her expression shifted ever so slightly.

“Is that her?” you asked.

Larissa hesitated before nodding. “Yes. She says Wednesday is adjusting well.”

You leaned forward. “And?”

Larissa hesitated again. “She invited me to dinner.”

Your jaw clenched. “And what did you say?”

“I haven’t answered yet.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and unspoken. Finally, you exhaled sharply. “If you go, I want to know everything. No secrets.”

Larissa reached for you, pulling you into her warmth. “No secrets,” she promised.

But as you curled into her, the uncertainty remained, lingering in the quiet space between her heartbeat and yours.

The next Saturday night, Larissa found herself sat across from Morticia in a dimly lit, upscale restaurant. The atmosphere was intimate, the soft murmur of other patrons filling the air as the flickering candlelight cast long shadows on the table. The crisp clink of silverware on porcelain seemed too sharp in the silence that lingered between them.

Morticia, ever the picture of elegance, was dressed in a black silk dress that flowed effortlessly around her as she shifted in her seat. Her eyes were dark and calculating, and though she wasn’t actively glaring, there was a weight to her gaze—a silent challenge that Larissa could feel pressing against her chest.

The tension between them was palpable, thick with unspoken history, old feelings, and years of silence. It had been far too long since they'd last shared a space like this, and Larissa wasn’t sure whether it was the familiar ache or the unpredictability of the evening that was making her feel so unsettled.

“You look stunning, Larissa,” Morticia said, her voice low and smooth, as if they were still in the intimate world they had once shared. “You always did know how to wear power with such grace.”

Larissa gave a tight smile, sipping her wine to give herself a moment of distance. “Thank you, Morticia. It’s been a while.”

“It certainly has,” Morticia agreed, her eyes never leaving Larissa. “Too long, I think. So much time… wasted.”

Larissa’s throat tightened at the subtle implication in Morticia’s words, and she quickly took another sip of her wine. The alcohol burned down her throat, but she welcomed it—the warmth spreading through her chest was a welcome reprieve from the cold knot of nerves that had settled in her stomach.

Morticia leaned forward slightly, her voice lowering even more as if sharing a secret. “It’s strange, don’t you think? To see you so… settled, so sure of yourself. I remember a time when we used to be sure of each other.”

Larissa forced her focus on the glass in front of her, her fingers wrapped tightly around it as if it could anchor her. “I’ve always been sure of myself.”

“Mm.” Morticia’s smile was knowing, sharp. “I don’t doubt that. But you’re different now. I can see it. You’re not the same woman I once knew.”

The words hit harder than they should have. Larissa felt the edge of something, something that might have been guilt or longing or both, but she refused to let it show. She took another long sip, the liquid making her feel both warmer and more exposed.

“I’m still the same person,” Larissa said, trying to keep her voice steady, though there was a crack in it that she couldn’t quite cover.

“I’m sure you are,” Morticia replied, leaning back in her chair, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “But I wonder, Larissa, do you still remember all the little things we used to do? The late-night conversations, the way we’d talk about everything and nothing all at once.”

Larissa froze, her hand momentarily tightening around her glass, her mind flashing back to those nights—those endless hours when everything felt easy, when she’d lost herself in Morticia’s laughter and their shared secrets. But that had been so long ago, before the distance had formed between them.

“It’s been a long time,” Larissa said softly, her voice almost too quiet.

Morticia’s smile deepened, and she tilted her head, as though studying Larissa with the same intensity she always had. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How time can change everything… and nothing at all. The way we can slip back into old rhythms, as if no time has passed.”

Larissa looked at Morticia, her breath catching for just a moment. She didn’t know what was happening, but something—something about the way Morticia was looking at her—was stirring old feelings she had tried to bury. The air around them felt thicker now, charged with something Larissa wasn’t sure she was ready to face.

She could feel the warmth of the wine spreading through her, blurring her thoughts as she took another long drink. The words felt like they were slipping past her, too heavy to hold onto. She was losing control—losing her grip on the composed exterior she worked so hard to maintain. And Morticia knew it.

“Larissa…” Morticia’s voice was a velvet whisper now, one that tugged at the edges of her consciousness. “Do you ever wonder what could have been? I know I do.”

Larissa’s heart skipped a beat, and for a second, she was back in that place where everything had once felt so effortless between them. Morticia’s fingers brushed against the stem of her wine glass, just shy of touching her hand, but it was enough to make Larissa’s pulse quicken.

Her breath was shallow, her thoughts clouded by the alcohol, by the proximity. She could feel Morticia’s presence like a weight pressing down on her, heavy and demanding. It was the same pull she’d always felt—a gravitational force she couldn’t escape.

And without thinking, without really understanding what she was doing, Larissa took another drink, almost too fast this time. The burn of the wine felt sharper, more intense, as it slid down her throat, and it was only then that she realized she was already tipsy, her nerves disjointed in a way they hadn’t been in years.

Morticia’s eyes flickered, and Larissa could feel the moment shift. There was something different in the way Morticia was looking at her now—something more predatory, more deliberate.

“You know,” Morticia said, her voice barely a whisper as she leaned even closer, “I’ve always wondered what it would be like if we gave in to the tension between us. If we just let go and did what we always wanted.”

Larissa felt the heat rise in her cheeks, her heart pounding in her chest. But the words were already slipping from her lips before she could stop them. “We can’t. It’s not… I can’t…”

But Morticia’s lips were already close to hers, her breath warm against Larissa’s skin. The air seemed to crackle between them, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Larissa didn’t realize what was happening until it was already too late. She was kissing Morticia, her mind too foggy to process it, too drunk on the wine and the years of unresolved tension to stop. The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if neither of them wanted to admit what was happening. But soon, the pressure grew, and Larissa found herself caught up in it, her heart racing faster, her pulse louder in her ears.

When they finally pulled away, Larissa’s breath was shaky, her head spinning from the wine and the kiss and the way Morticia was still looking at her—like she had won something, like she had always known this moment would come.

Larissa blinked, trying to make sense of the whirlwind inside her chest. “What… what did we just do?”

Morticia’s smile was soft, almost affectionate, but there was a sharpness behind it that Larissa couldn’t ignore. “We did what we’ve always wanted to do,” Morticia murmured, her fingers lightly grazing the side of Larissa’s face. “And now, Larissa, you have a choice. What happens next is up to you.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unresolved, as Larissa sat frozen in the moment, her mind racing to catch up with the sudden reality that had just crashed into her.

And as the evening wore on, the uncertainty lingered in the space between them, even as they finished their dinner in silence.

Larissa opened the door to her quarters, the familiar warmth of the space immediately enveloping her. Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she stepped inside, and her eyes quickly scanned the room, landing on you sitting on the couch. You were curled up in one of her oversized blankets, a book in your lap, but you looked up when you heard the door close behind her.

You gave her a soft, knowing smile, but there was an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place, a tension in the air that wasn’t there before.

“How was dinner?” you asked, trying to sound casual, though you couldn’t hide the slight edge to your voice.

Larissa paused, her coat still draped over her arm as she stood in the doorway, seemingly caught off guard by the question. She was suddenly aware of the quiet hum of discomfort between you two.

“It was fine,” she replied, her tone carefully neutral, though her voice carried a hint of something unspoken. She shrugged off her coat, folding it with deliberate care as she crossed the room toward you. “Business, more than anything.”

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing slightly as you watched her movements. “Business with Morticia Addams, right?”

Larissa’s breath hitched for a fraction of a second, but you were watching her closely enough to catch it. She didn’t let the moment linger, however, quickly smoothing over the brief hesitation with a cool smile. “Yes. She’s here because of Wednesday, you know that already.”

You sat up a little straighter, a frown tugging at your lips. “And how is she? Morticia, I mean. How did she react when she saw you again?”

There was a long pause, and Larissa finally sat beside you, her gaze distant as she smoothed a hand through her hair, a nervous habit you’d come to notice in her when she was sorting through something complicated. “She’s the same as always,” Larissa said finally, her tone clipped. “Graceful, poised... she knows how to make an entrance, as you’d expect.”

You studied her face, sensing that there was more she wasn’t telling you, but you didn’t press further just yet. “And was she...?” You let the question hang in the air, not needing to finish it for Larissa to know exactly what you meant.

Larissa hesitated, her fingers tapping absently on the edge of the blanket you were wrapped in. “She was... familiar,” she said carefully, as if choosing each word with caution. “And it seems like some things haven’t changed.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean by that?”

Larissa’s expression flickered briefly with something unreadable, but she quickly masked it with a tight smile. “She’s still the same, just more... insistent. In her own way.”

You swallowed hard, the thought of Morticia pressing into Larissa’s life again stoking a mixture of unease and jealousy that you didn’t want to admit even to yourself. “Insistent, how?”

Larissa sighed, leaning back into the cushions as she closed her eyes for a moment, her posture stiff. “She’s always been good at making things complicated. But that’s all it is. Complicated.” Her voice softened toward the end, almost as though she were reassuring herself more than you.

You wanted to believe her, wanted to trust in the steadiness of her words, but the knot of doubt in your stomach was tightening with every passing second. Morticia’s return felt like an echo of a past Larissa hadn’t fully closed, and you couldn’t help but feel like a part of her still lingered there, in that space between them that you couldn’t even touch.

Still, you nodded, trying to push down the uncertainty. “So, no more dinners with her, then?”

Larissa chuckled softly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “No more dinners. Not unless it’s strictly necessary.”

The tension between you both hung heavy, unspoken, yet undeniable. You leaned your head on her shoulder, a quiet surrender to the comfort of her presence, though you knew that something had shifted—something between you, and something between her and Morticia that was too fragile to ignore.

As the silence stretched on, you closed your eyes, letting the soft rhythm of Larissa’s breathing settle you, unaware of how deep her past with Morticia would bleed into your present together.

————————————————————————

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[onepieceisreeeeaaalll]

Smutty Sanji HCs

Here it is, a long time coming. I have been thinking about and working on this in pieces for weeks. I just love Sanji so much that I wanted to make sure I did him justice in how I think he'd behave while being intimate. Part of my self-indulgent smutty HC series.

CW: NSFW MDNI! P in v, oral f! and m! receiving, praise kink, use of 'good boy.' Sanji being a switch :)

Check out my masterlist if you like stuff like this!

Sanji lives to serve. It’s obvious in the way that he carries himself, tends to the needs of his crew, any lady he meets, strangers in need. From the bottom of his heart, Sanji is a giver.

This translates perfectly in the bedroom. 

Sanji is almost always in the mood, and if you offer, he won’t hesitate to jump on the chance. Otherwise, he doesn’t like to ask. 

Given how horny Sanji is, he'll wait until it's built up so much that he's sure you'll be in the mood, too. He would hate to inconvenience you with something as ‘primitive’ and ‘unseemly’ as ‘his needs.’

He has a very specific way of letting you know he's in the mood. When you’re alone, kissing, he’ll suck on your bottom lip gently to savor your flavor and move his hands from your waist to your hips. That’s how you know that he’s getting a little too pent up.

Sanji likes to take his time. Not in a torturous way - at least, not on purpose. Sex is an act of worship for him, something that takes time to appreciate you in the way that he feels you deserve.

He’s a leg man, through and through. Thick calves and thighs? He loves to paw at them, feeling the plush skin under his hands that are calloused from years of cooking. Thin calves and thighs? All the same, taking his time to trace out the muscles and bones beneath.

He just loves legs. All shapes, all sizes, all lengths, so long as they’re attached to the beautiful woman he cherishes more than anything. 

Every time you start having sex, he always begins by going down on you, eating with the hunger of a man who’s experienced starvation before.

I’ve written a separate little blurb that goes more in-depth about this next process of sex for him, but suffice it to say that he will typically start at your feet, your ankles, your legs, and work his way up.

He likes to kiss and nip at your calves and your thighs, giving hushed whispers of praise all the way to the junction between your legs. That’s when he digs in.

”Always tastes so good. Better than anything I could make.”

Sanji is fairly certain that he can’t properly enjoy sex without eating you out. He’s not only a chef, but he’s a connoisseur of all that he can taste. He’ll treat your pussy like your mouth, making out with it and lapping languidly across your folds. Your labia, your entrance, all of it. He likes to suck on your clit, rolling his tongue over it in his mouth again and again.

He’ll eat you out as long as you let him, pairing the act of devotion with his fingers. He has the skill of a cook, his fingers confident as he works to prepare you for his cock.

Union required blowjob sidebar: Sanji loves them, if he can work past his initial guilt of having his cock in your throat.

He’ll never ask for them, even if they’ve invaded his thoughts late at night on more than one occasion. He doesn’t like the idea of marring your mouth with his cock and ruining you in this way. If you ask, though? He’s more than happy to comply.

The praises you whisper as you kiss at the tip, when you stripe your tongue over his length, popping his head into your mouth.

”Ah - please, your mouth is so pretty. I love how it feels.”

There’s nothing prettier than seeing your lips wrapped around him and feeling your tongue swirl along his slit. 

He never moves, not even if you tell him it’s okay. The most he’s comfortable doing is taking your hair in his hands, guiding your movements only if you ask. And even then, it’s at a slow pace, only moving you far enough on his length that he won’t touch the back of your throat. He’s not into choking.

If you take charge, though, and bring his cock back into your throat that far, he’ll cum immediately. Without hesitation. 

Sex with Sanji can honestly go one of two ways. He’s a switch, happy to let you take charge, and more than willing to take the reins for the night if you ask. 

On nights when you take charge, he’s a puddle, absolutely pliable to your every whim. The praise he whispers to you makes him heady, but the ones you whisper back to him are the quickest way to fuck him stupid.

”I’m yours, I need you like air. Please, use me for your pleasure. Let me make you feel good.”

Having you ride him while you’re in charge is his favorite position. Moving your hands up your body, guiding them to your breasts so he can knead and mold them like he would any dough he’s prepared. 

His hands are as strong as they are gentle, and his fingers like to roll and tug on your nipples carefully so he can pull as many moans from you as possible.

Sanji will put his hands everywhere he can, sculpting across your body as he sings your praises and begs to cum. He always looks so pretty the way his curled eyebrows furrow and tears prick up in his eyes.

It’s not that he’s overstimulated, or even overwhelmed - he’s just so grateful to be inside you. 

”Angel - ah - feels so good! You’re perfect for me, so tight and beautiful.”

”Yes, please, you’re so gorgeous bouncing on my cock! Love how you look - I don’t deserve you!”

”Am I making - ah, nng - you feel good? Am I a good boy, sweetie?”

It should also be noted that Sanji whimpers. Whimpers when you are on top of him, or when you’re having him fuck you at your command. He can’t handle how sexy you are when you take charge, and consequently, he ends up a moaning and keening mess.

Conversely, if Sanji’s in charge, he’s more than happy to do what he can to prioritize your orgasm. Truthfully, your orgasm is always on his mind, but since it’s up to him, he’ll bring you to orgasm as much as possible.

He prefers missionary because he loves to watch the way your lips part with moans and mewls. He loves to see your pupils dilate, your nose scrunch up. 

If he gets too excited, he has to close his eyes so he can reprioritize himself, because seeing you get worked up on his cock is enough to make him cum on the spot.

He’s not mean, but he’s assertive. Maybe even bossy. Since he’s so focused on making you feel good, he’s simultaneously both your biggest cheerleader and he’s your biggest op. 

“That’s only two so far. Come on - you can give me more, can’t you?”

”Let me make you cum. I’ll make sure you forget everything except how I make you feel if you keep making those pretty noises for me.”

”Yes, that’s what I want to hear. You’re doing so good, taking everything I give you.”

His cock will be moving into you with amazing accuracy, and if he feels like you aren’t loud enough, he’ll angle your legs to bring himself deeper and hit that g-spot in you over and over.

His thumb always finds your clit as you get closer, and he’ll rub it in the way you’ve told him works best for you. Little circles, up and down, whichever way he feels will be the best to work you up. 

When he feels you tightening around him, his dick protected within the vice grip of your satin walls, his praises will get more poignant.

”Ah, fuck, just like that! Looking so gorgeous on my cock. You’re going to come on it, right? You’re going to cream on my cock, love?”

“You’re perfect - so perfect for me, all fucked out and begging for more. You don’t have to beg, angel. I’ll give you everything you want and more until you beg for me to stop.”

”Everything I have is yours - this cock is yours, so take it! Let me bring you to heaven and back!”

The night won’t end without multiple orgasms for you. When you were first intimate together, he’d come pretty quickly, so it became a mission for him to make sure that you’re thoroughly satisfied. Now that his stamina has gotten better, and he’s more controlled, he’ll put his own orgasm off for as long as possible so you can finish the night together. 

Sanji finds it romantic to cum together.

In the aftermath, he eases himself out of you almost immediately so that he can take you in his arms and hold you close. He’ll pepper your neck, your shoulders, and your face with little kisses as he breathes against you.

”Thank you. Thank you for letting me love you. You’re so beautiful.”

Aftercare is his specialty. If he cums on your body, he’s quick to pull a towel to wipe it up.  If one was forgotten - which it seldom is - he’ll just opt to use his shirt to wipe up the mess. He’ll be the first to get up and bring you water, medicine, a snack. Whatever you need. 

He likes to carry you into the bath once you’re willing, setting you into the warm water with him. He’ll cradle you in his arms as you settle together, your back against his chest as he whispers sweet nothings into your ears. His hands will trace over your body, washing it languidly.

Yes, this has resulted in bathtub sex before. 

I can make a whole separate HC list for the way he fucks when he’s jealous. More on that one day ;)

[romanoffsbish]

Trust in Me

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Warnings: Insecurity (R)

Natasha wakes up to the surprise of her life—you were finally settling into your most suited role. | WC: 2,108

Smut: Dom / Sub Exploration | Mommy (R) | Nat’s a brat | CNC Somno (N) | Fingering (N) | Double-Ended Strap / Dick-Riding | Light Degradation

18+ | Minors DNI

Natasha smiled as consciousness tickled behind her eyes, her lids fluttered open as her thighs relaxed into the mattress, giving you even more space to feverishly lap away at her. This was a perfect fantasy fulfilled—completely unexpected but more than welcomed. The redheads cheeks warmed more than she'd ever thought possible and her heart burst with love and warmth for the trust you two have fostered into this connection.

—

To this moment where you surprised her with an act that was so incredibly intimate—one that required consent, and trust to which she'd given genuinely. Natasha had begged for this at one point but it took you time to believe her desire, and to trust her with yours. You made a promise to try but it'd been so long, she'd forgotten, which made it that much hotter to her.

Determined to see you at work she lifted her head but had to squint her freshly opened eyes, in protest to the sun rays trickling in through the slitted blinds. It was only her intention to observe you going at her like a starved animal, but she more so distracted you into pulling away. A bright smile lit up your face, yet she protested your forgoing her pleasure, but she hadn't much time to complain when your lips found hers.

It was rather brief, something else she wanted to protest but your fingers circled the skin of her hips and thighs, furthering her arousal as you trickled trails of her down her jaw and into the grooves of her chest. It was a painful reminder of the sticky mess you left her.

You suctioned your lips to her skin and grazed over the veins in her neck with your teeth, just as your fingers trailed up and down before spreading her lips open.

"Y-Y/N, please," she managed to croak as your finger pads teased her entrance, but never enough to truly please. "Shhh," you coo'd breathlessly into her ear, fingers pressing into her just enough to be felt, but not exactly firm enough to make her lose her composure. You weren't finished speaking, "you don't have to beg anymore baby," your fingers curled as they filled her fully in the same breath as, "I got you." She believed you, her entire body just shuddered beneath yours, but you just kept urging her on, "mommy's precious slut."

Natasha's eyes widened and you chuckled softly, "well fuck me, honey, you're soaked." Feeling the effect of your furthering subservience to her desires had you relish in the warmth of it all as her walls sucked you in deeper. The title had slipped from her lips so many times, but you'd never acknowledge it. You were always softer with her in those moments, so of course she knew you were struggling with feeling confident, or maybe just becoming comfortable with the identity.

Either way, she cherished you differently now that you'd stepped outside of your initial comfort for her pleasure. It wasn't toxic or anything, she just felt a shift and therefore the knot of need tightened within but her body didn't. She only melted further into the mattress and you left her bruising skin to kiss her briefly; sweet.

For a long while, you kept her on edge—words locked up tightly in your throat, but your deep grunts every time she occasionally twitched her thigh into your wet core were making her lose her grip. It was as if you didn't want any pleasure to derive from anything but delivering her own. A shiver ran down her spine at the sheer desire she felt coming from you and she thanked you with her nails scratching down your bare back.

"Let it go, baby," you hummed against her cheek, tongue softly tracing down the salty skin as your teeth gently nipped at her tense jaw, "cum on mommy's fingers like the needy slut we both know you to be."

Natasha's body arched, but you'd anticipated it quick enough to lean back and stabilize on your shins, you loved watching her fall apart like this—keeping up a strong pace even with the distraction of her beauty. Her pretty lips were parted when you met her wild gaze, as you slowly lowered you saw her chest stutter and a jolt of pride rang through you. With your free hand you applied pressure to her tense pelvis and wrapped your lips around her throbbing clit. "Mm."

The release was sweet, in every sense and in the aftermath of her high, you just could not bring yourself to stop from tongue fucking her into another orgasm. Natasha was in no rush to protest either, but then she came to a realization and yanked you up to face her.

"Y-you need relief," she rasped, tired but determined. You cupped her flushed face and sighed, "I'm okay." Even though you were the furthest thing from, not that you'd ever say so. So, she had to do it for both of you. "I'm not," she whined firmly, "I need more, mommy."

"I'll gladly clean you up," you grinned and attempted to return to the comfy space between her thighs. "No!"

You pouted and she nearly caved. "What do you want?"

Natasha thought for a short moment. "A kiss, please." Not a second later did you lay down atop of her with your lips on hers, the kiss was not sweet at all, you were turned on and knew she was aware so you slid your tongue in her mouth and let her thigh feel you. The redhead shoved you back slightly and you were confused until you saw her, eyes clouded with need.

You nodded and smiled in understanding as you stumbled off the mattress, letting Natasha dictate from the bed what toy she wanted to ride as she played with her tits just to taunt you. She eagerly chose the double ended, hot pink dildo with a surprise ending at the ready. Soon enough you took over, with your lips as you let her slide down on your cock. It was a moment for distraction, since it was an uncomfortable stretch.

"I love your perfect tits baby," you praised somewhat incoherently as you never stopped devouring them to speak clearly. Natasha smiled without your eyes on her but she quickly changed that when she pulled you into a kiss that made your stomach drop into a frenzy. A wildfire bloomed beneath your skin; you smiled back. Natasha began to rock her hips, making you lose your composure and moan timidly. "What else do you love?"

Your heart stuttered but your lips didn't, "everything."

There was an airiness to your tone, but Natasha took offense and scoffed, "that's cheap." You chuckled and gripped her hips, guiding her movements as you spoke, "slow down, sweetheart—let mommy finish, first." Her eyes darkened at the double entendres, she nodded so quickly that you couldn't help but to feel truly desired, especially as her tense fingers dug into your shoulders.

The pit in her stomach was slow to form and you both loved that most, the buildup before the glorious fall. Right now though, she was sensitive enough from her first few orgasms, which meant she wouldn't last too long, so her focus was purely on your demand to cum first. Meanwhile you're already in a near similar state—body always on the edge with Natasha around, it doesn't take much more than a look from her to have the fabric of your panties destroyed. Pleasing her is all you needed to cum and her knowing that was a power move she clung to, especially in moments like these, where she had you beneath her—at her harshest mercy.

Natasha softly rocked her hips as you spoke, or tried to she would later say, a smirk of deviance on her face as her powerful movements caused you to get caught up as you tried to stifle your moans enough to answer her. "I love the way you, the way that you, um—fuck, that you love me so—mmm." A quirked brow and slowed movement told you she was expecting more, so much more so you rushed to say, "I would be nothing without it, Natasha—your love is the only thing that keeps me going. You are reserved to the world, a purposefully dull presence, but to me you're a beacon of hope."

The thin portion of the dildo that was nestled against your g-spot shifted and tears slid down your cheeks, you were desperate to accept the nirvana her rocking hips were working to bring but you weren't finished. Nowhere close to it, honestly, but your core disagreed.

"I love the way you care for people without a word," you comment sincerely, "you order takeout on nights that you can tell Wanda's worn down—always stating that you wanted it, but I know you prefer homemade."

Natasha blushed at your catch, but she said nothing, letting her eyes plead with you for more reassurance instead, as if she needed you to remind her that she wasn't a monster. A part of you broke seeing her this way because to you, the woman was a faultless angel.

"I love the curve of your lips whenever someone says or does something funny," you shyly state, not entirely comfortable admitting your naivety, "it lets me know to laugh too, because I trust you to know what's funny."

Natasha giggled softly, you could not only hear but see the emotion behind the act as she locked eyes with you. The humor was gone almost as quickly as it had come, the both of you breathing heavier as you kept moving your bodies in perfect sync, overcome by a deep need.

"I-I love the way you lead with patience," your lips sloppily met hers, a clear sign that you were that much closer to your release. "You've come so far, Tasha, and I'll spend the rest of my life telling you what I love."

"You're close," she husked hotly into your ear, neither of you needed her to point it out, but of course she felt the sudden need to move beyond your praises. She made sure to emphasize the statements as she harshly plopped down into your lap, your head threw back into the headboard with a loud smack but you didn't care.

The sharp pain quickly melded into pleasure as her lips found home in the crook of your neck, she wanted the attention back onto you, so of course she played dirty. Natasha would always reign victorious too, a smirk of completion felt against your skin as you let all of the tension she'd sensually built up within your body go.

All it took was a sultry whisper, tone raspier than you'd ever heard it before, "let go for me, mommy." Natasha reveled in the way that your body harshly trembled beneath her, she felt victorious as her tongue slid up the side of your neck, feeling the racing of your pulse.

Though lost in your own immense pleasure, you would never forget your truest purpose, which was making her scream. So, even with your muddled mind you reached a shaky hand down to squeeze the forgotten about reservoir. Natasha's body harshly slammed forward into yours as she cried for you, now met with an unexpectedly warm, sticky liquid filling her womb.

You smirked as your lips found hers, feeling a sense of pride as she called out to you, her pleasure clear. The both of you continued to rut your hips in perfect tandem, spent bodies rocking in a clear attempt to keep the both of your dwindling orgasms going. "I-I."

You chuckled hotly, "Hm?" Your lips slowly trailed down the column of her throat, where you nipped and sucked at the tender skin until she could think again. "I love you," she finally declared the obvious, "you're the best thing to ever happen to me Y/N." Her strong arms wrapped around your waist as she nestled her face into your chest, body melting in a way that you understood meant she wasn't ready to pull your bodies apart.

In a gentle way, you shifted until you could feel the mattress beneath your aching back, receiving a purr of gratitude from your lover who loved how you two could operate wordlessly like this. Being the brat that she was though, Natasha pressed her pelvis down into yours. "Natasha," you warned in relative amusement and she settled, knowing not to push further. If she played her cards right, you two would finish later...

[hwangskitten]

self indulgent af cause that's all I can write.

hyunjin x sensitive emotional fem reader that isn't used to love

I know it's bad but I've had a long day and I'm tired and lonely and I don't even know what I wrote.

you hoped the boys were too caught up with each other to notice you've sneaked away and now we're hiding in the bathroom. you couldn't explain why if anyone asked why you were crying. out of happiness.

the plan for the night was for everyone to be at chan and jeongin's place for a movie night. you were there before your boyfriend since he wanted to practice longer. he'd take a shower and join a bit later along with felix and minho. you didn't mind. it wasn't unusual for them to get caught up in their dance practice.

it was the way he greeted you that made you react this way. jisung was the one opening the door but hyunjin looked for you first. he looked tired when he walked over to hug you. his hair was still a little damp and you were going to say he should've dried it properly but your brain stopped working when he pulled you to his chest. and he kissed your hair.

something so normal had managed to make you tear up.

kisses on the lips or the neck could happen with a stranger. at a club for example. it doesn't necessarily require romantic feelings.

but

one holds a person that close and kiss them on the top of their head when they seek comfort.

and hyunjin found that comfort... in you.

you knew you weren't the easiest girl to love. yes, you were just as hopelessly romantic as him and that was something you both cherished. but you saw yourself as someone who's difficult to stay with. and hyunjin knew how stubbornly you believed that. he had even lost count of all the times you've said you knew he's going fall out of love and be done with you with a straight face. you really thought he'll get tired someday and leave.

yet those few seconds, what seemed like a simple greeting, changed everything. you could feel his breathing, his smile, his heartbeat, his love. it was a first for you. feeling truly needed. so could anyone really blame you for getting a little emotional over it?