#No it hardly gets better every time he does decide to sleep

[cosmicwhoreo]

Alright. Golden chocos morning routine after snuggin up with bold and beautiful.

Put in simple terms~! Calm before the storm

He values his valuables. Especially since most of them are capable of leveling entire islands- So his first order of business is check bloody EVERYTHING. Of course he sets up defense mechanisms that act on their own before napping, but that doesn't really ease his mind any.

[daveth-isnt-dead]

Restlessness

Summary:

She usually only lets Astarion feed on her while she is asleep. Not that she has any problem with Astarion, the case just is that him feeding from her while she is still conscious is profoundly intimate and she can’t really be sure if Astarion has noticed or even if he particularly cares, about how quickly her heart races when he does it. So while she is asleep is better, it's much better. But she can't get to sleep tonight, so she is just going to have to make do.

Contains: Fem Unnamed Tav, Explicit Sexual Content, Blood stuff (comes with the territory) Word Count: 5,143 Read on AO3

Astarion has been feeding on her almost every night for the past month now. Most nights while she is still asleep, though he is always surprisingly insistent about obtaining direct consent before she moves to her tent for the evening, by this point she has just assumed that the agreement is mutual and that there is little need for him to keep asking. Though she doesn't have it in her to be upset about the courtesy. 

She generally prefers that he drinks while she is sleeping, only knowing that it happened when she wakes up the next morning with a dull throb in her neck and Astarion giving her a knowing smirk from across the camp. 

Not that she has any problem with Astarion, the case just is that him feeding from her while she is still conscious is profoundly intimate and she can’t really be sure if Astarion has noticed or even if he particularly cares, about how quickly her heart races when he does it. So while she is asleep is better, it's much better. 

Being the vampire’s resident midnight snack does occasionally earn her some uncomfortable looks from other members of their little group. Especially after one of the few nights she had been awake for the ordeal and the feeling of his hand moving to her hip caused her body to jolt so intensely that Astarion accidentally tore her throat up with his fangs. Shadowheart dutifully healed it, but gave her a stare so oppressive that even a slight uptick of the half-elf’s judgemental eyebrow would surely have killed her on the spot. 

Astarion did apologize, but then quickly switched to insisting that she needed to let him know next time she decided to experiment with interpretive dance while he was firmly latched to her throat. 

That was the night they both agreed, it might be better if he only feeds while she is out cold. 

This night, however. Sleep will not come. She knows that it has been nearly a day and a half since Astarion has last eaten, any and all the fighting that took place today in the dark remains of Shar’s gauntlet were against foes severely lacking in the blood department, and tomorrow will likely be the same. To be honest, they were lucky at all, to find somewhere safe and quiet enough to camp in this miserable place. 

She rubs her eyes, still sitting upright in her tent despite all efforts to lull herself to sleep. She sighs heavily, tucking her knees up and wrapping her arms around them, usually a long day like this tires her out completely, and she is a very heavy sleeper, but today’s journey has left her so exhausted that even sleep evades her. 

The rustling of her tent flap nearly has her topping over with shock, hardly expecting any visitors after the terrible day they had all endured. The realization hits her when Astarion climbs in.

“Oh.” He says, freezing halfway into the tent, “Apologies, you are not usually so…well, conscious, at this time of night.” She had agreed to him feeding on her again this evening, assuming that she would be well asleep by now like usual. She sighs and gives him a wan smile, “Sorry, I can’t sleep.” “I suppose dinner is off the table then, isn't it?” He replies, wearing a smile that seems far tighter than his usual lazy smirk. 

“No!” She says quickly, “Gods no, there’s nothing else for you to eat down here and it’s been almost two days.” Astarion frowns, suddenly becoming very interested in his fingernails, “I can always go back to eating rats if I must, there is certainly no lack of them in this miserable place.” He tries to maintain a casual air, but there is venom behind those words. His voice does return to being playful when he says, “Or, should the situation become incredibly dire, I’m sure that our resident hero would let me have a bite if I asked very nicely.” For some reason, the thought of Astarion feeding on Wyll instead of her causes a thick cloud of jealousy to build behind her ribs. She ignores it, “Just come inside, we’ll figure something out.” she says, shuffling backward a little to give him more room, “And close the front of the tent, please.” 

When he turns back to her and takes a seat on the hard ground, she can’t help but notice just how etherial he looks in the soft orange glow of her lantern. Even on the nights when she does sleep, she prefers to keep the lantern on, both because the darkness makes her uneasy, and because (even though she knows he can see in the dark) it feels like common courtesy to leave a light on for Astarion. 

“So.” He says

“So…” she replies

Astarion sighs, “Look, darling. If you are simply too delicate for me to have my meal while you are awake, I’m sure that I can find a way to occupy myself for now.” He levels his gaze with her, “Something more entertaining than just staring at each other.”

She bristles, “I’m not delicate, I’m just-” she can’t finish the sentence. She’s just what? Too shy, embarrassed maybe, certainly nervous, “I’m fidgety.” she lies, “and I don’t want to cause another…incident.” He laughs, “Oh yes, not willing to suffer another of Shadowheart’s glares, are you?” “No.” She begins, averting her eyes as she feels her cheeks burning, “Not at present.”

“Then what do you suggest? Since you don’t seem to be planning on getting your beauty sleep anytime soon.” She chews on a knuckle, mulling it over. There’s no way she could handle him leaning over her like that again, his scent surrounding her, one of his hands cradling the back of her head as he finally sinks his teeth into the side of her- 

“It might be better, if i’m sitting upright.” She offers. Astarion blinks, “Upright?” “Maybe. I think.” 

It would at the very least, be far less intimate, more clinical. Astarion hums to himself, “As you know, i don’t have all that much experience in the matter, but i can hardly see how you would expect to stay upright and the last thing we need is you cracking your skull open on the ground.”

“Then I would just need something to lean against.” She says quickly, “I just think I would be far better at sitting still this way, that's all.”

“Well, I’m right here, darling.” He says, almost dismissively, upset that she wouldn’t consider it herself, “You could always lean against me.” 

Her eyes widen. That would defeat the purpose of this whole exercise, but she can’t very well tell him that. 

“As long as it wouldn’t make things more difficult for you.” She begins, choosing her words slowly and carefully, “I would at least be happy to try.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” He says, leaning backward a little and letting his thighs fall open, “The last thing this could possibly be for me is difficult.” She stares down at him, eyes wide as she realizes that she has only managed to make this situation worse. 

“Oh….kay” She says, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. In the end she opts to face away from him, sitting cross legged between his legs and shimmying backward until she feels his chest pressed up against her back. She sucks a difficult breath in through her teeth and though he isn’t warm, he might as well be, the way she immediately breaks out in a nervous sweat. 

“Come come, my dear.” He says, his tone hushed as he carefully draws her hair away from her throat, “I’ve had plenty of time to practice being gentle all those nights you were asleep, no need to be so nervous.” She’s more than a little embarrassed at how instinctively she tilts her head to the side for him, almost beckoning him to bite down. It’s not that part that makes her nervous, not at all. It’s that she recalls a conversation, brief and quickly dismissed, that the two had by a campfire many nights ago. A mention of disgust, words spat like bile about the man who forced him to use himself night after night. A disgust of her own, when she remembered how many days she’d spend staring at him, nights under his body as he fed, wishing and wanting for him to touch her. 

She had been far too forward that night, prodding where she shouldn't. Astarion had just laughed, dismissed her concern and refused to elaborate. 

“I trust you.” She whispers when she feels the ghost of his breath on her neck.

Astarion tenses behind her, and she closes her eyes as he descends, waiting for the bite that never comes. His lips press against the side of her throat, softly, lightly, the way a lover might kiss. She gasps aloud, and quickly covers her mouth with a hand, trying to hide the sound. 

One of his hands wraps around hers, gently removing it from her mouth, “No.” he says, pressing another kiss to the cut of her jaw, “Let me hear you.” 

A whimper climbs its way up her throat when he wraps a possessive arm around her, his thumb gently brushing across the lower swell of her breast. She feels his teeth against her neck, not biting, gentle and tantalizing. 

This is what she had been afraid of, that she would encourage something like this and then lack the restraint to tell him no. Her head inclines backwards, resting on his shoulder and releasing a keening moan when he sucks on her pulsepoint. 

“Astarion-” she tries, breaking off into a moan when he slides his hand up and squeezes her breast in his palm. 

He chuckles against her throat, “I do so love hearing you say my name like that.” he croons into her ear, his hand sliding down the collar of her loose linen shirt to cup her breast directly, “Say it again for me, would you?”

“W-Wait, please” She forces out, trying to ignore the growing warmth between her thighs, and the cool press of his palm against her breast. 

At her words, Astarion freezes completely. She can barely even feel him breathing anymore. 

“Yes, of course.” He says quickly, too quickly, there’s something that sounds like panic in his voice, “I- well, I hope i didn’t misread the situation.” “No! That’s- that’s not what I meant, it’s just-” She reaches her hand up backwards until she finds his face, cupping his cheek in her palm, “Astarion…you don’t have to if-“ if you don’t want to, if it doesn’t mean anything, if it hurts too much, or Gods forbid if you think you owe me something. 

He stays still for long enough that she begins to worry she said something wrong, that she overstepped a boundary and he was just going to laugh dismissively again. Instead, he turns his head so he can lightly kiss the palm of her hand. 

“I know.” He breathes, and it somehow soothes all her worries at once, “I know I don’t have to, but I do want to.” She can almost hear his smile when he says, “That is, of course, provided that you don’t want me to stop.”

“Gods no…” she exhales, leaning back against him, “That’s the last thing I want.”

“Good.” He nearly moans, his hand jumping to the laces at the front of her shirt and quickly undoing them until it hangs wide open all the way down to her sternum. It surprises her a moment, how familiar he seems with undoing her clothes, but then she remembers each morning, waking up with a bite at the join between her shoulder and neck. A courtesy, so none of the others would see it, but he would only be able to reach that low by loosening her shirt. 

She feels herself growing warm at the thought, smirking when she asks, “You’ve undressed me before, have you?”

Astarion huffs, licking a stripe up the side of her neck, “Nothing more than was necessary to get at your shoulder, darling.” his cold hands grab both her breasts at once, and he groans, “I was trying to save you from any judgemental stares.” 

Her head lolls backward and she moves her hand to his hair, tangling her fingers in tight. His hands are cold against her bare skin, but she is already so warm all over that any reprieve from the heat is a welcome one. 

“Is this why you could never sit still while I was feeding on you?” Astarion breathes, one of his hands sliding down the front of her torso to rub over the front of her woolen breeches, “Because you couldn’t stop imaging this?” his hand slips beneath her breeches and into her smalls, “Gods…” he hisses through his teeth, “You’re so wet and I’ve barely even touched you.” 

“Don’t act so coy.” She replies, gasping aloud when his talented fingers dip inside her just enough that she is quivering in anticipation for more, and when his thumb reaches up to circle her clit, she whimpers desperately, “You have all the clarification you need right here.”

“Do I?” He asks slowly, fully removing his fingers from her cunt and resting his hand on her hip, “What if I want to hear you admit it?”

She whines, missing his touch already, “Please…” “No no no, you know what you have to do.” He murmurs, breath ghosting across her neck as he presses another kiss to her skin, “You did lie to me about it earlier, don’t I deserve to hear the truth from your delectable lips?” “F-Fine.” She mutters, shame dissolving into something far more sinful as she finally confesses what she is certain he already knew, “The real reason I asked you to only feed while I was asleep, was because I-” his free hand joins the other on her hips, slowly edging her breeches and smalls down over her thighs, “Because I didn’t think I could control myself.”

He laughs warmly against her skin, fingers just barely skirting around the thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs, “My my, with talk like that, you’d think that it is I who should be afraid of you.”

“Maybe you should.” She says, trying and failing to maintain a casual air even as his fingers slowly descend, “After all, who knows that I might- nhg!” “Hm? Sorry, what was that?” Astarion asks, two of his fingers now knuckle deep inside of her. 

“I’m h-hardly in a state to offer much witty banter, Astarion.” She stammers, barely even able to speak as his fingers start moving, slow and precise, like he is savoring it. 

“But I do so love when you try.” He smiles against her neck, a third finger easily wriggling in alongside the other two. She goes practically boneless against him, unable to keep her hips still as he curls his fingers upward just right and when his thumb teases another utterly devious circle around her clit she feels herself tightening around his fingers. Astarion groans, hiding his face in her shoulder and grinding himself against her lower back, “Hells, darling, you are perfect.”

One of her hands moves to his thigh, struggling to find purchase as she completely loses herself to the pleasure. If the full weight of her body essentially collapsed against him gives Astarion pause, he doesn’t show it, his fingers never falter. The pace he maintains is utterly languid, slow and warm and wet, fast enough that she wouldn’t call it teasing but like he wants to work for it, to enjoy the luxury of taking his time with her. 

She moans when his other hand returns to her breast, rubbing addictive circles around her nipple with his thumb. Everything starts to turn hazy at the edges, her body is twitching and desperate. 

“Gods…” She hisses through her teeth. Astarion chuckles against her throat, “Come now, darling. There’s only one god here.” she feels the light graze of his sharp teeth, “and he’d much prefer you call him by his name.” “Astarion…” she tries, “Please.” He exhales a shaky breath, but otherwise maintains his composure, “Please what, my sweet?”

She’s on the exhilarating precipice of her climax, barely even able to speak, her body feels so hot that Astarion’s hands nearly burn in their coolness and she can scarcely imagine a world where she doesnt have them pressed against her. Whimpering and mewling under his touch and so unsure of what it is she even wants until: “Bite me!” comes bursting out from her mouth.

Astarion chokes on a breath, and she feels the soft lick of her tongue over his pulsepoint, “Are you sure?” “Yes!” She hisses, practicaly fucking herself on his fingers now, “Gods yes.” She feels more than hears the rumble of his moan, “Do try to stay still.” he purrs, and then sinks his fangs into her throat. The immediate pain feels almost electric jumping from her throat, to her fingertips, to her toes, a quick sharp jolt that is near instantly replaced with a nauseating bliss. 

Her head lolls to the side, relishing in the feeling as he begins devouring her. The beat of her heart is loud in her ears, and the pump of his fingers is no longer so tender, with each movement his thumb brushes firmly against her clit and her whole body tenses. He curls his fingers upward, and her hips cant forward violently. 

Unlike last time, Astarion is quick to pull his fangs from her throat, before any real damage can occur, “You really can’t sit still, can you?” He groans in her ear, his voice void of any of its usual musicality as he grinds himself up against her in time with his fingers. A bubbling laugh escapes her mouth as she revels in the feeling of his length pressed firmly against her lower back, at the way his own hips don’t seem to want to stop moving, “N-Neither can you.” she says through her moans. “What can I say?” He murmurs, mouth slowly returning to the open wound on her neck, “You are positively delicious.” He does not bite again, instead lapping and sucking at the blood as it flows freely out of her. She can barely breathe, lost in utter exhilaration as the lightheadedness takes hold, his fingers curl and thrust inside of her, skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat as she finds herself completely unable to hold back her whimpers and moans. 

Astarion completely covers the bite mark with his mouth, sucking with true fervor now as she teeters closer and closer to her climax. Her eyes squeeze shut, and she frantically grinds herself against his awaiting fingers, the warmth builds and builds in her belly until she feels like she is about to turn to lightning in his arms. 

“A-Astarion, I-” Her words collapse into a desperate, aching moan as she tumbles over the edge, the world turning white behind her eyes and the heat rushing out from her core all the way to her fingertips. The euphoria is so encompassing that she nearly sobs as his fingers begin to slow their movements within her. 

He has the sense not to say anything, at least for a moment, and she can scarcely imagine how she looks right now. Her hair clings to her forehead with sweat, tears are beading in her eyes and- oh gods had she been drooling? She quickly raises a hand to wipe her mouth, and as she is doing so, she turns her head to look at him and oh.

Astarion blinks down at her, and the look in his eyes is heady and lust drunk, but there is something else to it as well, bordering on reverence. His cheeks are flushed, and she knows that can only happen when he has just fed. She swallows thickly at the red colouring of his lips, where her own blood is currently spread. Curiosity does something sinister to her, and she wants to taste it herself. 

His eyes go wide when she kisses him, and wider again when she darts out her tongue lick over his teeth. Astarion’s chest is heaving when she pulls back, his red eyes watching cautiously, as though unsure of her next move. She reaches out and takes his cheek in her palm, his skin is warmer than it was before.

“Your turn.” She whispers, trailing her hand from his cheek, down his sternum to the waistband of his breeches. She looks up at him quickly and is emboldened by the desire she still sees in his eyes, untucking his shirt and pulling it up over his head. He’s all perfect, smooth, porcelain skin, but her eyes can’t help being drawn to the way her rough undressing has left his hair disheveled. She tangles her fingers in it, smiling at how boyishly handsome he looks with his hair in disarray. 

“If it’s all the same to you, my dear.” He breathes, beginning to sound impatient, “I’ve waited for you long enough.” She laughs, edging his breeches and undergarments down over his hips, “So impatient for someone with your lifespan.”

He frowns at her, but she is surprised to find how easily she can tell he doesn’t mean it, “If anything, that should speak to just how much I crave you.” He croons as she swings one leg over his hips, hoving just over his lap, “You should be flattered.” “I am.” She replies with not a hint of irony, “I consider myself incredibly lucky.” Astarion reaches up to her face and tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “As do I.”

She wraps her arms around his shoulders to steady herself as she slowly lowers herself down, stutting a gasp when the head of his cock meets her entrance. It’s as cold as the rest of him, and she has to bite down on her lower lip to keep herself from crying out when she takes in the first inch. She’s still incredibly sensitive from her first climax, and the coolness of him feels so alien and utterly addictive that she is already panting and whimpering by the time he bottoms out inside of her. 

Astarion lets out a shaky moan when she finally sits down fully, his hands jumping to her waist and his head falling to rest on her shoulder. They stay like that for a moment, just clinging to each other, no sounds but their breathing and the rapid tattoo of her heart. 

When he looks up at her again, Astarion’s smile is utterly salacious, “You have me now, darling.” he whispers, pressing a cool kiss to her shoulder, “Perhaps it would the perfect moment for you to show me some of those, things you have been thinking about doing to me all this time.” 

Astarion isn’t usually that much taller than her, but even still, there is something addictive about their current positioning and the way he has to peer up at her. She tilts her head to the side, taking in the sight of him, his blood flushed cheeks and the glint of his teeth behind his wide smile. 

“Would it be…strange-” she begins, tangling one of her hands in the back of his hair, “-If said that i had often imagined biting you.” “Hah!” Astarion exclaims, grinning broadly, “Well, it would be hardly fair for me to ask you to keep your teeth to yourself, wouldn’t it?” Her brows pull together, “You can say no, Astarion.” His eyes go wide for a moment, and his face is awash with a sudden vulnerability, “I- Yes, I know that I can.” His smile returns, but now the look in his eyes is warmer, softer, “But I don’t want to.” He inclines his head to the side, exposing the length of his throat, “Go on, darling. Let me know how I taste, would you?”

She leans into his neck, breathing in his scent as she presses a soft kiss to his skin. He makes a noise, a startled intake of breath, his hands on her waist gripping tighter and she opens her mouth and bites. Astarion cries out, and his hips stutter his cock deeper inside of her. She moans against his skin, grinding her hips down to meet his and languishing in the feeling of just how well he fills her. 

Her teeth are far blunter than his, and actually drawing any blood would take a considerable amount of force and cause a considerable amount of pain, but even without the taste of blood in her mouth there is still something so delectably perverse about biting down on him, about burying her face in his throat. She moans, kissing from the base of his neck and up to the curve of his jaw, sucking gently on the skin there and smiling when she pulls away to see purple marks blooming on his pale skin. 

Astarion’s breath is heavy when he looks at her, but his eyes are soft and relaxed, “Admiring your handiwork, are you?” He laughs a little, peering up at her coquettishly, “Does it suit me?” She traces a finger over the crescent shaped bruises left by her teeth, smiling at him as she whispers, “Very much so, and now I believe we are even.” “Are we now?” Astarion replies, a mischievous look crossing his face as his hands move down to her hips, “Because as far as I can recall, only one of us has seen stars this evening.” 

“We’ll need to rectify this situation then, won’t we?” She says, her breath quickening as she grinds down on him. 

Astarion’s grip on her hips grows tighter and he chokes on a groan, “You look beautiful up there, my dear.” he thrusts up into her, slowly and deeply, “Sitting pretty on my lap, just for me.”

Her head lolls forward, whining as his cock brushes against that perfect spot inside of her. 

“Look at me.” Astarion whispers, and she tilts her head up to meet his eyes. His breath stutters when he sees her expression, desperate and adoring, “I want to see your face as I’m fucking you, darling.” She giggles shyly, resisting the urge to hide her face in her hands and Astarion smiles, “Good girl.” 

He uses the grip on her hips to lift her up and she whimpers as his cock leaves her, only to cry out when he drops her back down. Shifting her weight to her knees, she follows his lead bouncing on his cock to meet him on the upstroke. He never breaks eye contact, staring as her breath leaves her, watching reverently as she pants and moans with each of his movements. 

“A-Astarion…” She moans, leaning forward and pressing her forehead to his, “You’re so good, you feel so good.”

He laughs breathlessly, “Would you believe that you feel even better?”

One of his hands moves from her hip around to her front, his talented fingers rubbing encouraging circles on her clit. She keens loudly, digging her nails into his shoulders, “Didn’t I say it was your turn.” She forces out, “You really don’t have-” “You greatly underestimate just how much making you climax arouses me, my sweet.” He groans when he rubs her a little faster, feeling her walls clench around him in response, “I have been thinking about it, constantly.” 

She can feel her orgasm building again, the combination of his fingers and his cock driving her absolutely wild. He’s so warm now, her own growing heat slowly warming his cold skin over time, she wants to grab onto him and never let go. His hips are losing rhythm beneath her, driving his cock up into her with short, stuttered thrusts.  Gods she can feel him throbbing. 

“I’m-I’m close again.” She breathes. 

He groans at even the thought of it, “Good. So am I.”

“Fill me, Gods, Astarion- please” She moans, tightening her arms around his shoulders, pressing him flush against her. 

His own arms wrap tightly around her waist as he fucks up into her at an utterly desperate speed. His breath coming quick and fast, he buries his face in her shoulder, mouthing at the side of her neck, waiting as always, for her permission. 

“Fuck! Yes, Please, bite me!” She cries out, feeling the warmth of her oncoming climax already blooming in her belly, “Gods, Astarion, I am all yours.” His breath hitches at that, the frantic movement of his hips stopping for only a moment, “Mine…” he breathes, and then sinks his fangs into the side of her throat. She can barely comprehend what she is feeling, him all around her, inside her in more ways than one. She’s open, vulnerable, yearning and Astarion is all she ever wanted. 

Her second climax of the night is louder, twitchier, her whole body quivers as it feels like she is shoved over the precipice, her insides clenching desperately around him and her hands digging into his hair as she howls into the open air. 

“H-Hells!” He stammers at the feeling of her coming undone around him, clutching to her as tightly as he can before emptying inside of her. 

There’s warmth, for some time, as the two of them return from the white hot afterglow. She gently runs her fingers through his hair, and Astarion softly laps at any of the mess left on the side of her neck before kissing tenderly over the bite mark left behind. 

“Would you stay?” She whispers, hiding her face in his shoulder, nervous for his answer. 

Astarion chuckles, “Are you that insatiable, my dear? Can’t get enough?” She shakes her head, “No, I mean it. Stay with me until morning, we can talk, or sleep, I don't mind.” His breath is shaky now, and one of her hands comes up to rest on the back of her head, “I don’t really know what we are doing.” he breathes, “But I’d like to try, with you.” She sits up a little, meeting his eyes. There is apprehension there, yes, but more than that there is something warm and real. She smiles, “I guess we’ll have to figure it out together.”

His smile is lopsided and effortless, “Though I’m sure Shadowheart will have something entertaining to say, come morning.”

She laughs, “I’ll have to get used to withstanding her glare, I think, as I plan to make, well, whatever this is, a regular occurrence.” 

Neither of them feels a need to define what they are feeling, or even what comes next. But she smiles when Astarion presses a kiss to her temple, and decides that for now, it hardly matters. They’ll figure it out eventually. 

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 MID DAY NAPS WITH DAZAI!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai does not nap. he hardly sleeps in general. so how is it that he's dozing off in your lap like this? you're a witch, he's decided. there's no other logical explanation. (wordcount: 800ish; sfw; fem!reader, mentions of alcohol & sleeping pills)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: very short & sweet but i toldddd you guys that i had a dazai nap time drabble in the works. i love my naps, so that means i obviously have to do nap time with all of the favs. perhaps i'll do jouno next. or maybe there's someone u guys want.

Dazai doesn’t sleep well. He never has, and he’s certain he never will. The only time he can manage to get some semblance of sleep is when he’s taken a few too many sleeping pills or he’s drank himself to oblivion. It’s unfortunate, but it’s a fact of life, and he thinks that he’d prefer to stay sleepless anyway if it means he can avoid the memories that plague his dreams.

Dazai can simply not remember when the last time he willingly slept was, which is why he’s so confused now, head resting in your lap, eyes heavy as he looks up at you. He can hardly hold them open, he can feel himself falling asleep and he’s alarmed because he does not sleep unless his body is drugged, drunk or dying.

“What kind of spell have you placed on me, bella?” Dazai says through a yawn—he yawned???

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly, fingers still carding gently through his hair as you look down at him, brows furrowed. 

He wants to reach up and rub out the wrinkle between your eyebrows but his arm feels too heavy. A part of him wonders if he’s dying, but he supposes if this is how he’s meant to go out—laying in your lap with your fingers brushing through his hair, staring up at your pretty face beneath the afternoon sun—then he couldn’t ask for a better death.

“‘m falling asleep,” he murmurs, and his voice slurs a bit over the words. His eyes feel even heavier, drooping shut as he tilts his head to the side to make himself comfortable on your lap. 

You giggle lightly, and Dazai swears the sound is angelic. “‘cause you’re so sleepy, obviously,” you say, a teasing lilt to your tone as you bring your freehand to his face to trace his cheekbone.

“I don’t sleep,” he protests weakly, leaning into your touch. 

He thinks that before he met you, he might not have ever experienced a gentle touch in his entire life, and now he simply cannot go without them. He craves them at every waking moment and gets severely distressed when he cannot obtain them. But only if they’re from you—the thought of anyone else touching him the way you do makes his skin crawl. Your touches make him feel vulnerable in a way that’s dangerous, and you’re the only person he trusts enough to see him that way.

“Everyone sleeps, silly,” you disagree softly, and Dazai wants to protest, to tell you how significant this is, but he can’t find the words. His mind feels muddled and hazy as exhaustion creeps through his bones and claws at his chest.

He supposes he doesn’t really need to tell you anyway, you probably already know—you always know somehow. You can always figure out when he’s having one of his bad days, no matter how hard he tries to hide it from everyone. You can always tell when he needs a break from everything, even when he tries to mask it with smiles and jokes. You can always tell when he’s sick of playing the role of a clown to make people overlook all of his faults and darkness, and you’re always there to be an escape for him. 

It used to be scary—he’s never had someone that could pick through all of his masks to see through his emotional state, his real one. A part of him wonders if it’s somehow a secret part of your ability but he knows it’s a ridiculous thought, because there’s no explanation for how you can do it whenever he’s laid up in your arms or draped all over you, which is 99% of the time he’s with you.

It used to be scary (emphasis on the past tense) but now, he thinks it might be a bit comforting to know that you’re always there and you know what he needs even when he himself doesn’t know. You’re like a buoy in the middle of a raging sea, a lighthouse shining through the dark. he hasn’t had someone he could genuinely rely on in… a long time, and even then…

Dazai lets out a puff of air, eyes finally sliding shut as he all but melts into you with your hand cupping the side of his face and your thumb caressing his cheek and your nails gently scraping his scalp. He thinks he might be in heaven—he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve it, to deserve you, but he’s a selfish bastard at heart and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you go. 

The last thing he feels is your lips ghosting his temple before he finally dozes off. He sleeps peacefully for the first time he can remember. 

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: rafe x nanny reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: 18+, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (Practice safe sex), cream pie, slapping, chocking, squirting, use of daddy

Wc: 5.3K

Chapter 3: Guess we're both broken

Waking up the next morning, you tossed over to the otherside, noticing the sheets were cold. Peaking through sleep coated eyes you realize that Rafe is gone. Sitting Up you look around the room, his shirt and shorts gone as well. Not surprised that he was gone, a sinking feeling is in your chest, he used you. Once again you are left knowing that you shouldn’t have thought anything else. Should have known him being on his best behavior recently was just another ploy to sleep with you, knowing that he won. 

The rest of the day was spent moping around Tannyhill, grateful that you didn’t need to see him. Sarah being the only person you see when she stops by to get some of her things before running off again to stir up trouble. The day was so uneventful that you even decided to go to your parents cookout. Which turned out as awful as you expected it to go.

Reaching your childhood home you can see your neighbors scattered around the lawn. You notice your dad on the grill talking to one of the other dad, most likely talking about what rub or glaze he used this time. Walking around you greeted a few people who stopped you to ask how work is going. “That Cameron boy is causing you any trouble is he?” If only you knew, you thought. “No he’s not. They are all really respectful to me.” In hindsight it wasn’t a lie, they have been really nice making you feel welcomed. If the past two nights hadn’t happened you wouldn’t be so apprehensive to say it, but they did happen.

Everything seemed to be going well until you reached your mom. She was talking to some of her friends when she saw you walking their way. “Well if it isn’t my precious little angel. Hardly recognize you since we never see you.” She chuckles, trying to mask the insult with laughter. Taking a deep breath you give her a hug. “I know, I’m sorry. Been trying to visit but it’s been hectic.” Saying hi to the rest of the group was met with few words, some of them not replying at all. “How much work can it really be? The young one is practically an adult herself.” Your mom has a way of making everything you do seem insignificant or an inconvenience to her, your job being one of them. 

“You’d be surprised. Wheeze is a saint but she does give me a run for my money. I should go say hi to dad before he feels left out.” With that you walked off to greet your dad. The rest of the night was a never ending cycle of your parents making small jabs at you. Making you and the rest of the party uncomfortable every time they spoke. The cherry on the cake was when they pulled off to the side just as you were about to leave. “Sweetie, we need to ask you something and before you start getting mad you need to agree to hear us out.” Your dad says sitting on the couch looking at you, your mom next to him nodding along to his words. “Okay.”

“So you see we really need to fix up the house. You know how bad the AC is, you would have better luck keeping the fridge door open then that thing working.” Oh god you can already see where this is going, eyes rolling waiting for them to ask you for money. “Don’t roll your eyes at us, we are your parents.” Your mother scolded. “Anyway.” your dad continues. “We don’t have the money to get it fixed. The mortgage is barely even being covered as it is, we just need you to spot us some money. Just enough to get us going.” Taking a deep breath and cooling your nerves. “How much?” you ask.

“4,000.” Your eyes widen at the price, that's a whole month's worth of pay, let alone you don’t have that on you right now due to helping them out. “4,000? You need me to give you 4,000 dollars? By when?” The questions shootout at them. “Yes 4,000 and we need it now preferably.” So that’s why they invited you today, not because they miss you like they claim but because they need money. “I don’t have that kind of money on me or in my account.” “What do you mean you don’t have that money? What’s the point of working for some kooks if they don’t pay you well.” Your dad scoffs turning and looking at your mom. “What did I tell you? I told you she wouldn’t help us.”

This really can’t be happening right now. You have been working since you were 14 to contribute to the bills, every paycheck going straight into their hands. “I have been helping you. I’ve been helping you for the past six years with every bill in this house.” “We never asked you to do that.” Your mother rebuttals, taking another sip from the glass of wine in her hand. “Yes you have!.” you exclaim. “You are literally asking me for 4,000 dollars as we speak. Every time you ask me for money I hand it over without making a fuss, but this I can’t do. I have my own expenses, you know.”

“What expenses? All of a sudden you live in a fancy mansion and you’re too good to help out your parents.” Your dad’s words hurt you. You have tried to be their perfect daughter your whole life. The perfect grade, the scholarship, then declining the scholarship because they begged you not to go. Every life choice you’ve made has been to cater them and their wants. “Yes, dad, my expenses. I have my own car that I pay for by myself, a car loan as well, I even have to buy my own groceries. Then on top of that I send the both of you practically all of my paychecks. I’ve been scraping by trying to make it all work, why can’t the two of you just realize I can’t do this.” Your pleas fall onto deaf ears as they both get up from the couch. “If you aren’t willing to help us then there’s nothing left to talk about. You know where the door is.”

Watching as the walk away tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The drive back to Tannyhill seemed longer than it usually did. The conversation played on repeat throughout the whole drive. Parking your car you rush to the front door, all you want to do is lay in your bed and cry. Tears are already falling from your eyes as you close the front door. “Well what do we have here, country club? This that nanny you keep hiding from me?” You recognize the voice, you’ve seen and heard him around Tanny when Rose or Ward is gone. Barry is his name you think not really caring to find out you just walk down the hall. “Not much of a talker I see.”

“Leave her alone.” Rafe’s voice makes your ears perk up. Even though every muscle in your body is telling you to keep walking and not to look at him, you cave. Eyes meeting he can see the tears in them. “You okay, sunny?” You can’t do this right now, can’t get caught up in him just for him to leave once again. Without saying a word you brush past him, bounding up the stairs to the second floor. But before you can slam your bedroom door you can hear Barry talk. “The fuck you do to her?”

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The next morning you had yourself locked in your room just thinking. First about your parents and then about Rafe, then your parents and Rafe once again. It was torture having to sit in the room replaying ever interaction to see where things went wrong. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell you about the Rafe situation but it might for your parents. 

Looking at the clock by the bed you see that it's almost one in the afternoon. Deciding that you can’t sit her a mope for the rest of your life, you get up and get ready. Ward had given you a membership to the country club when you first started, he thought it would be better since you can accompany Wheezie when she goes. A nice relaxing day at the club, eating the fancy food is just what you needed.

It didn’t take long to get there or to find a seat by the pool, most of the people are on the golf course anyway. The only people by the pool are the wives that have kids and the teens who were there for the lifeguard. Stripping from clothes you are left in the red bikini you wore, you put on some sunscreen before laying down on the lounge chair soaking up the rays. 

The sun feels nice against your skin, the heat relaxing your tense muscles finally being given a break. After about thirty minutes you flip over allowing your back to tan, not wanting to be uneven. The sound of kids laughing and the busy club lull you into a peaceful mind. So what if your parents are upset? You have done more than enough to help them out over the years, you can’t keep digging them out of their messes. Who even knows where most of the money you send them goes, it’s definitely not toward the house.

So what if Rafe is a dick who just uses girls and dumps them to the side? You can’t control who he is and clearly he just wanted to hookup nothing more. All that you can do now is just keep to yourself, it’s better to protect your peace then being his new play thing. Then why does it hurt? Shaking off the thoughts you notice how hot you started to get. 

The sun is beating down on you, sweat forming on your skin causing you to stick to the chair. Getting up you head into the pool, the cold warmer cooling you off as you float. You didn’t know this but a few feet away on the dining patio sat Rafe with Topper and Kelce. Rafe was half listening while the two boys talked about something he didn’t care about. His mind kept bringing back the picture of your crying face from last night.

As soon as Barry left he went straight to your room but the door was locked. He sat there for a second and heard nothing from the otherside of the door, assuming you went to bed he left for his room. When he woke up this morning it was all that he could think of, seeing you like that hurt him. You looked like he did after his dad made him feel less of, the thought of you feeling like that made his blood boil. But showing you he cared shows that he needs you, that he actually cares for, that’s not who he is.

No Rafe is the type of guy that fucks everything in his life up, dropped out of school, is a failure to his dad and in relationships. That's what he’s good at, you’ll see it eventually so why even try? Looking out to the course, he can see the pool from here, looking at all the bodies laying around. The red swimsuit draws his eyes down your body, recognizing you as you walk out the pool. The water drips down your stomach, down your legs, but the droplet in between your breasts has him staring. 

Rafe isn’t the only one staring, the few teen boys are staring, then there’s the lifeguard. Rafe remembers him from school and doesn’t like the fact he’s staring at you. He watches as you dry yourself off, putting the shirt and shirt you wore back on. Looking as you gather your things and escape his view as you leave, the boys gather his attention. “Dude are you even listening?” His eyes move back to them “Yeah.” 

You make your way through the halls, carding through your memory to remember how to get to the dining. As you walk, members of the club look at you, judging you for the way your shirt has wet spots from your swimsuit and hair. You decide to sit at the bar not wanting to deal with anyone today. “How can I help you m’lady.” You put the menu down to meet JJ’s gaze. “Oh my god! Jayj hi.” You squeal, catching the attention of patrons including Rafe. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while. Joining the darkside has really changed you.” He looks around before leaning a bit closer. “How is it on the other side? Miss us already?” He teases. “Of course I miss all of you.” You playful push his shoulder, JJ raises his hands up in surrender before resting his body weight on the bar counter arms next to yours. Rafe stares in shock at the scene playing in front of him. You, his girl, flirting with fucking Maybank of all people.

He sees JJ push a piece of hair behind your hair and you giggle. The chair scraping against the floor alerted the boys, he didn’t even realize he was even up and walking over to the two of you. “Where are you going?” Kelce calls out to him. “I’ll be right back.” As he gets closer he can hear your conversation more clearly. “You should come to the bonfire this week. I’ll make it worth your time.” JJ flirts, Rafe coming up right behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking over your shoulder you can see the look of anger on his face and the smirk painted on JJ's face. 

“Sunny! I didn’t know you were going to be here. Maybank why don’t you run along and get me another drink.” He says with a condescending tone, glaring at the blonde boy. “Rafe.” You say as a warning, already seeing how this is going to end. “What? I’m just asking the help to do his job. Right Maybank?” “I was actually helping out this beautiful customer. Ain’t that right baby?” JJ remarks getting closer to you. The look on Rafe’s face could probably kill JJ if he tried hard enough.

Rafe leans against the counter, his body facing you. “You really slumming it around with this loser? You like being around trash?” His comment made you see red.  How fucking dare he? You knew he kinda took the kook and pogue thing seriously but to call them trash. It’s like he forgets that you are also a pogue, that if it wasn’t for his father you would still be living on the cut with the rest of them. Which is true, he doesn't see you as a pogue or the help. 

To him you’re a kook, you belong with them, with him. “Yes I do. Now this trash is going to take itself out like the “help” do.” You say quoting help as a reminder that you also are the help. “I’ll see you around Jayj.” You tell the blonde looking at you with worried eyes before storming off. “Yeah see ya.” He calls out looking at Rafe for a moment. “Man I knew you were dumb but god damn. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen you do.” He laughs and walks away to go serve other customers. Rafe knows he’s right, potentially just fucked up whatever the two of you had before it actually really started. More than he has already done by ignoring you for the past day and a half.

He makes his way back to the table, the guys watching as he takes out a wad of cash and throwing it on the table. “I gotta go.” He exclaims, rushing to try and catch you before you have the chance to fully leave. Racing out of the building he sees you in the distance looking for your car. Jogging he catches up to you grabbing your arm and yanking you back to him. “Let go of of me!” You yell at him turning and pushing his chest hard. “No! Come one just talk to me.” He exclaims fighting you to make you stay and hear him out. “Are you kidding me? Talk it out? You just insulted me and my friend.” “No I insulted him. I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

You scoff pulling your arm free from his grip. “So calling him trash just because he’s a pogue doesn’t insult me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m also a pogue. I came from the cut just like he does. Does that shit actually really mean something to you? Are you that fucking stupid?” Rafe’s been called stupid many times in his life, from Ward, his sisters, hell even Rose has called him stupid. He knows that he makes things difficult and not many people like him. But hearing you call him stupid fills him with more rage then seeing Maybank think he can have his girl. “Hey don’t you fucking dare. Say whatever every the fuck you want but I ain’t stupid you fucking hear me.” 

He grips your cheeks, pinching them together. “Don’t you ever call be stupid again got it?” You should be scared, you’ve seen his temper before, seen him throw shit around the house or get into a fight with people at parties. You don’t know what to do being on the receiving end of his anger, then his words ring in your ear making you angry all over again. That ache in your pants is ignored as you wrench your head out of his hand. “I don’t know what your problem is but if you put your hands on me again you’ll regret it. You think just because everyone else is scared of you that I will be too? News flash buddy I’m not.” “Don’t call me buddy.” His voice was weaker than it was when he was yelling. 

“You don’t get it.” He states turning away from you and letting you go. “You’re right I don’t. You don’t talk to me for two days completely ignoring me after you got what you wanted. Then when I’m catching up with a friend you come in guns blazing as if the world is about to end. What’s wro-“ “He was touching and flirting with you.” He cuts off your rant, stunning you into silence. “So what if he was?” Rafe’s eyes darken hearing you defend him, telling him you actually enjoyed the attention that you were getting from another guy. “So what?” He laughs differently from his normal one, darker than what you are used to.

 “You really think I want some other guy touching you? Do you fuck him too?” “You’re jealous?” You meant it as a statement but it came out more like a question. “Yeah I’m jealous. All those guys in there would give up all their money just to get a chance with you. You don’t know them like I do, they would jump at the chance to get with a beautiful girl.” This is the third time he’s insinuated you are beautiful in some way. “Well maybe I should give them a shot. You obviously” His lips crash to yours, not allowing you to finish. This is different from the other kisses you’ve shared, more intense. He’s trying to tell you he’s scared of losing you, a crazy thought considering you aren’t even his.

How can he feel so strongly for you than he already did? It’s no secret that he’s always had a thing for you but this is different. The thought of you leaving him for another person actually terrifies him. Everyone has left him and he can’t stand the thought of you being another person who walks away. You try fighting him again but all efforts die when his tongue makes its way into your mouth. Rafe has this effect on you that you can’t explain.

There was always this soft spot for him but now that the lines have muddled together it’s hard to separate your feelings. Arms wrap around his shoulder pulling the two of you closer to each other, bodies pressed together. He pulls away from you for a second allowing the two of you to catch your breaths.  “Get in the car. I’ll meet you back at the house.” Fully pulling away you straighten out your clothes that got a little skewed from making out. He goes to walk to his truck, you stop him. “You can’t just get upset like that and make a scene. If this thing between us is going to work you have to talk to me, okay?” Eyes softening looking at your expression he takes a step forward placing a kiss on your forehead. “Okay.” With that he walks away leaving you standing in the middle of the parking lot wondering what the hell just happened.

The both of you race back to Tanny, Rafe’s truck behind your car. Reaching the house, you make your way inside waiting for him to get here, you lost him at a red light on the way over. You go to the kitchen to get water, the sound of the front door opens, Rafe’s footsteps echoing through the hall. “You think you can just go around and flirt with people?” He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, white polo stretching around his biceps. “I thought we talk-” “No I’m not done.” He enters the room, staring at your body with dark eyes. “Strip.”

The grip on the water bottle tightens. “What?” Rafe is now in front of you, taking the water from your hands, whipping the stray drop on your lips. His thumb gently pulls your bottom lip before releasing it. “Strip and get on your knees. I need to teach you a lesson, I don’t like people thinking they can have what’s mine.” You look at him before following the instructions, staring up at him as he unbuttons his pants to take his dick out.

“Open.” You do without a second thought. “Good girl.” He mumbles, forcing himself in and setting a brutal pace. You have to catch yourself on his thighs just so you don’t fall, his hand holding you in place. Hips thrusting into you, your throat gladly accepts the intrusion, gargling on his length. Tears pooling on your bottom lashes, spilling down your cheeks, making Rafe go harder on you. “Look at you. A mess of spit and tears for my cock. Think maybank can do this for you?”

He’s still on about what happened at the club, to tell the truth you were too. His jealousy causes mixed emotions in you. On one instance you like seeing how possessive he was for you, on the other he resorts to insults to get his way. You give him a rough suck, eyes meeting his. “Fuck.” Rafe pulls out, yanking you up and bending you over the kitchen island. His body covering yours as he lines himself up, you're so wet that you aren’t worried about the pain. You were sure that he would fit, no preparation needed. “Told you I would bend you over and fuck the shit out of you.”

With that he slammed into you, moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He halts when he’s ball deep, giving you a moment to gather yourself, only a moment. His thrust pushes you further into the island, sure enough to leave marks on your hip tomorrow morning. You don’t even care, he feels too good, the feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. Whimpers keep leaving your mouth. Rafe grabs your arms, using them as leverage to fuck you harder as he keeps them pinned behind you back by one hand.

“Harder.” You moan out. Your body tingling from all the pleasure he’s giving you, your peak creeping around the corner embarrassingly fast. “Yeah? My little slut wants me to fuck her faster?” The degradation goes straight to your clit, walls fluttering around his length. He goes harder for a few minutes before pulling out, a whine of protest leaving you. “You don’t get to cum yet.” Rafe’s hot breath in your ear, his body heat leaving you too. 

He turns you around and hoists you onto the island, spreading your legs to step in between them. Left hand going to guide himself back into you, gliding across your fold to get you hip and bring you closer to the edge. In this angle he hits you deep, pushing against your cervix with each thrust.

Wrapping a hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly just enough to have your mind all fuzzy. You roll your eyes back grasping onto his bicep, manicured nails digging into his flesh leaving crest shaped marks. Rafe hisses at the sensation enjoying the flash of pain radiating in his arm. He starts fucking you hard, pounding into you having his dick spear into your g-spot. His unoccupied hand takes hold of your hair, pulling you till your foreheads are pressed together. His watch digging into the back of your neck, chested firmly pressed to each other, sharing each breath.

 “Squeezing my dick so fucking good baby. Can you hear how bad your pussy needs it?” Rafe moans out. You can, you’re so wet that every time he fucks into you squelching fills the room. You open your mouth but a particular thrust makes you moan instead. The hand in your hair retracts, your head leaning back slightly, it comes down on your cheek. It wasn’t hard enough to really hurt but enough to have pain heat your face. You moan liking the feeling of the smack, mostly just enjoying the fact that he lost himself to the point of causing a bit of pain. 

“You like me hitting you baby?” When you moan he smacks you again, annoyed that you won’t speak. “Use your words.” Rafe’s hand cupping your jaw staring at your fucked out expression, the hand around your neck tightens as his pace increases. You’re wetness mixing with his pre-cum leaking out of you, making a mess between you two. “I like it sir.” It comes out more like a breath but it counts. “My good little girl. You gonna cum for me? Hmm cum for daddy.” The new nickname was the nail in the coffin, the tightness in your belly finally snapping.

 This feeling was a new thought. It was so intense and it didn’t feel like an orgasim that you’ve had before. Your walls squeeze rage so tight that it pushes him out of you, your release gushing out getting everything wet. “Did you just fucking squirt?” Rafe pushes his dick back in, fucking you harder than before. “Such a dirty fucking slut, squirting and getting everything wet.” Moans keep getting pulled from you, pouring out into his mouth as he sloppily kisses you. “Oh fu-fuck… I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it.” “Inside please.” 

If telling him to cum inside you didn’t make him cum, it was the please that did it. Rafe ruts into you, hips stuttering as he fills you with each squirt of him cum. The warm feeling making you moan and flutter against him. He rides out both of your highs, hips finally stopping when they met yours, keeping you plugged. He want to stay there, wants to just feel you, wrapping his arms around your body. He’s enjoying knowing you are stuffed full of him, that his cum is so deep that it's forced out around him. Pulling out slowly you both hiss, you at the feeling of him spilling from you, and him as he’s fixated watching it come out. 

Kissing you for a moment, Rafe pulls away walking to the sink, wetting a rag before going back to clean you up. The touch is so gentle that it barely hurts. He helps you put your clothes back on dragging the both of you over to the living room. He throws himself down on the couch taking you along with him, pulling you closer . “What happened last night.” You hand playing with his shirt stops. “Huh?” Moving your head to his shoulder you look him in the eyes. “You were crying last night. What happened?” 

“Oh” Trying to shift away from him, being blocked by his arms tightening keeping you in place. “It was just some fight with my parents. It’s nothing.” “It is something, it made you cry.” You wish he would stop trying to pry, it’s not as if he cares. Honestly you expected him to flee once your clothes were back on. Pulling you to the couch was unexpected but asking you to talk about your parents was too much. Too personal. The lines of friendship and having feelings are already getting muddled as it is, this would just push it further. 

“Hey.” It’s soft, lips brushing my forehead before he places a kiss there. “You said we have to communicate, right? Talk to me.” With a sigh you tell him everything. How since you were barely able to work you gave them all your money last night. “They expected me to just hand over 4,000 dollars like it’s nothing. Then when I finally put my foot down I’m a disappointment. Nothing I do anymore is right.” Rafe’s hand rubs your arms trying to soothe you. 

“You aren’t a disappointment. If they can’t handle the fact you have your own life then fuck them.” You slap his chest lightly. “I’m serious. You’ve done more than enough for them, if they can’t see that then it’s their loss." A moment of silence, his words soaking in as you both lay there. “Thank you. I” You don’t know what else to say, fingers tracing shapes along his chest. 

“I know what you’re feeling. My dad um he always lets me know how much of a fuck up I am. I know what it’s like to be a disappointment, you don’t even come close.” The confession felt foreign on his tongue. Rafe never opened up to anyone about his feelings, anytime he tried he was met with a “man up” or “this is how a man handles things”, he’s scared of what you will say. He feels you slip from his arms, closing his eyes not wanting to see you leave him alone, trying to calm the burning behind his eyelids. 

“I don’t think you’re a failure.” Blue eye’s open to meet yours, there’s a hint of vulnerability from what you can see. You lean down pecking his lips, pulling away to get a better look of him. “You’re more than what he sees. It’s a shame he doesn’t take the time to notice.” It was your turn to leave him without words. He’s searching your eyes, your face, for any sign that you were lying. That you were pitying him after he devolved a hidden secret. He knows you’ve heard his Dad yell at him but this is different. 

He can put on a mask after talking to Ward when he has to see you. This time he tore the mask off, wanting you to see him without the facade. “I don’t think that about you.” “Huh?” You respond with confusion filling your face. “I don’t think that you’re trash. You are probably the best thing to come out of Outer Banks.” He’s not lying or at least you don’t think he is. The look in his eyes tells you that he actually means it so you smile down at him. “The best thing huh.” You tease. “Don’t push it.”

[revehae]

tw // noncon. yes its rape dont ask me no stupid fucking questions

yesterday (over a month ago technically) i couldn’t stop thinking about apologetic rapist haechan like ugghhhhhhhhhh

walk with me. this is a man you trust to have in your home, spending time watching movies and playing video games together in between your stressful lives… you’ve confided in each other about all of your problems, big or small, and chat about everything under the sun. you give him advice that he doesn’t listen to, then has the audacity to complain afterwards. he’s got a spare key to your place and you’ve got one to his, and all your boyfriends over the years feel like they have to compete with him, but the thought is ridiculous to you. compete with haechan romantically? it’s laughable. sure the guy has seen you half naked, but it’s not like that, you’re comfortable, you’ve never seen him ogle you or heard him make some unsolicited comment about your body that even strangers have made… why would anyone have to compete with haechan? he’s your best friend, nothing more, nothing less.

you’re not sure how you could’ve been so wrong. the way you see it, the haechan you thought you knew wouldn’t take advantage of how comfortable you feel around him, the fact that you let him share a bed with you every now and then. it’s not necessarily strange for his hands to wander around you, he’s clingy and unconsciously does it in his sleep, but it is strange for them to be so firm at your hips, nails digging into your skin, sounds that aren’t soft snores falling from his whiny lips.

confusion dwindles. betrayal stings your eyes. haechan sees it, too. he lifts his head up, tosses the hair out his face, and meets your eyes. there’s no arrogant shimmer to his eyes or smug smile to his face; the opposite. there’s shame and guilt and sadness, you want to think, and he beats you to a word, uttering, “i’m sorry…”

but he’s not sorry enough to stop. not even when you struggle against him, trying to wrestle your way out of his arms. you and haechan would play fight all the time, but you never realized just how strong he really was until you try to wrestle out of his arms and he pins your arms in place, whispering, “please. i don’t want to hurt you.”

but he would if he felt he had to. you’re in disbelief, the ugliest feeling festering inside your chest as it tightens so hard you can hardly breathe. when you beg him to stop, he says, “i can’t.” because you feel so much better than he’s ever imagined, and he’s imagined it a lot, and he just “can’t resist” himself. his eyes are misty, out of pleasure or out of shame, but either way, he needs to do this. he has to.

he can’t look you in your eyes. he can’t look at your face at all, really. he knows what he’ll see, the tears pouring from your eyes that gleam with a fierce blend of betrayal and despair and ire and disbelief. haechan doesn’t want to see you that way. having to hear your sniffles, knowing it’s all his fault, is bad enough. but in spite of the pangs of guilt that really do tear at his chest, he’s still in the middle of you, holding you in place, using your body for his own relief. so he just keeps his clasp on your hips, squeezing his eyes closed, and mutters, “i’m sorry…,” over and over and over again, hoping it’s enough. hoping that you’ll bring yourself to forgive him.

it’s not like it’s long before it’s over. haechan’s not proud of it but you’re all he’s been able to think about and it’s not like he’s ever hit a pussy raw before, if ever. you feel so filthy when he pulls out of you - his cum gushing out of your hole - and so broken. haechan says he’ll help you clean, but you’re rushing over to the bathroom and locking yourself inside before he has a chance to do anything. he hurriedly pulls on his pants and spends a long ten minutes knocking on the door, trying to get you to open it even after you scream at him to leave you alone, but he can hear the shower running from the other side. and he decides to leave you alone for now.

haechan tries to make it up to you, he really does. he doesn’t want you to hate him. you have to understand. your body was calling to him, enticing him, and he tried so hard but he couldn’t control it anymore. he’s gone when you return from a really, really long shower that you took in hopes of feeling less dirty, but to no avail. every bit of relief you feel at his absence, which isn’t much considering that pieces of him linger everywhere - on your sheets and in your aching bones and everywhere in between - fades when you hear the front door click open and he returns with your favorite takeout in hand. it’s his way of showing you that he’s still your best friend, that he still knows and loves you, that he’s sorry.

you’re not hungry. you have no appetite after that. haechan tries to get you to eat, but the second he comes near you, you flinch away from him. you never thought the day would come, but you are scared of him. he’s not the haechan you thought he was, no matter how hard he tries to convince you that he still is. you beg him to go, to leave you alone, but he doesn’t listen. he never does.

[concreteangel92]

Acting up

Noah Sebastian x fem!reader

18+

Warnings: spanking, clit spanking, dom/sub relationship, oral (m&f receiving) PiV sex, over simulation, aftercare of course

A/N: so I got this idea into my head last week and just had to bring it to life!

Apart from the small writing I uploaded the other day, this is my first proper one shot and deffo the first smut I’ve done in about 7/8 years so I felt incredibly rusty and have prayed that this turned out ok haha I’ve re-read and changed things so many times in the last week 😂 but after finally feeling more or less happy with it, here we are and I hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist

You knew you were in trouble, you’d been winding Noah up all day at an important work event.

Noah hadn’t long been home from yet another tour, but he’d hardly paid you any attention over the last couple days, he was either sleeping or working in his studio and although you love and support everything he does and you understood work has to come first sometimes, you were feeling incredibly needy now.

So you started off small, you wore a dress that left little the imagination. I’m talking bending over too far and everyone sees everything kind of dress to which Noah wasn’t impressed.

“You’re not wearing that to the event.”

“Yes I am.”

Noah’s eyes locked with yours and he had an irritated expression on his face.

“No, you’re not! I’m not having every persons eyes on my girls ass all night because she can’t be bothered to dress appropriately. The car is already outside, I’ll meet you in there. Go change, now.”

You turned away and headed to your shared bedroom with a small smirk on your face, he was too easy to wind up. Instead of changing the dress, you put a long coat over the dress to give the impression you’d changed and jumped into the car.

Noah, having been on his phone texting the whole journey, didn’t seem to notice anything until you arrived at the party, it was full of his management team, the rest of the band, friends, crew, you name it and they were there. Drinks were being served, music was blasting out and everyone appeared to be having a good time already.

You slipped your coat off when you walked into the main room, all eyes were immediately on you but Noah’s became dark.

“What did I say back at home?”

“Can’t remember to be honest”

Noah stood very close to you and put his hand firmly on your upper arm. “I need you to behave yourself tonight.”

All you heard in your mind was “test me more.”

You smiled up at him sweetly, playing the innocent and said “I always behave baby, especially at such an important event.”

Noah gave you a firm look but relaxed his grip on your arm and he let his fall around your waist to guide you around while he mingled.

The night seemed to go well, Noah became a bit more relaxed and was enjoying himself and never strayed too far from your side, often you felt yourself leaning into him, his hand always rubbing small circles on your side absentmindedly. Noah wasn’t someone who displayed massive amounts of affection in public but he loved to always have you in touching distance. And he probably wanted to hide how short your dress was from prying eyes as best as he could.

You let Noah do his thing for a few hours before you started to become impatient, and you knew Noah better then anyone and knew he would be drained by now, he doesn’t do well in big crowds of people and avoids them unless he has to for work, so you decided it was time to start upping the game.

A few throw away comments or jokes at his expense is how it started, your particular favourite was when you offered to grab a drink for him and Jolly but only returned with two and you started to drink one yourself.

“Did you get my drink babe?”

“You have legs right? Do what comes after February….March”

Noah tensed next to you every time and then when you both walked over to both the Nick’s and Jolly who had excused themselves to the sofas, you knew it was time.

You said hello and sat yourself right next to Jolly and Folio which meant Noah had no choice but to sit with Nick opposite you on the other sofa, Noah looked a bit disappointed as there was room for both of you but that look didn’t last long.

After glancing around and making sure that Ruffilo wasn’t watching, you uncrossed your legs and opened them up just enough for Noah to realise that you hadn’t got any underwear on tonight. Noah’s face instantly hardened and he glared straight at you, you couldn’t help but smile and giggle quietly to yourself as you knew this was it, Noah would never let you get away with this, you could feel yourself growing wetter just at the thought of what he’s going to do when you’re alone.

Jolly turned to you after hearing your giggle and said “what’s got you giggling?”

You crossed your legs back over and replied with “oh….erm I was just thinking that if it rains tonight, I don’t have a hood or umbrella so I’d end up getting very wet tonight”

Jolly looked ever so slightly confused but commented back that he didn’t believe it was forecasted to rain. You looked back over to Noah with a smile and you watched as his jaw clenched and his eyes were dark, he gave a very menacing look in your direction at the comment you’d made, he suddenly cleared his throat and jumped up.

“On that note guys I’m not feeling very well, I think I’m going to call it a night now, come on y/n.”

Ruffilo looked concerned “you alright man?”

Noah didn’t take his eyes off you “bad headache”

You stood up and fixed your dress, you smiled at the guys and said goodbye, Noah made certain to pass you your coat and grabbed your hand very firmly and said under his breath “we’ll talk about this at home.”

The ride home was silent, Noah’s grip hasn’t left your hand, and although it was starting to hurt slightly, it was simply causing you to ache elsewhere. You knew Noah was extremely angry, you’d technically crossed a line and was playing up in front of his friends which he doesn’t like but you couldn’t help it, he looked very attractive to you right now.

Not a word was said until you both walked into your house, you went to turn around and then found yourself pinned up against the door with Noah’s hand wrapped around your throat.

“What the fuck was that?”

“What was what baby?”

“Don’t play innocent with me, you knew exactly what you were doing, you’ve been acting like a brat all day and at one of my work events, are fucking serious?”

You stared up at him with big eyes, between your thighs was already wet and his hand became just that bit tighter which made your breath hitch.

“I just wanted some attention off you for a change.”

Noah ran his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly.

“Is that so?”

Without any warning he stuck one of his fingers into you and your mouth fell open with a silent moan, head falling back onto the wall.

“You’re so wet for me baby, been thinking about this all day eh?”

“Ye-yes.”

“You want me to make you feel good?”

You nodded while he moved his finger slowly but then removed it, take a moment to clean it off with his mouth.

“Too bad, you think after your performance tonight that you can just get what you want? I don’t think so. Get up those stairs and into our room, only good girls get rewarded.”

Your brain felt fuzzy with excitement as you followed his orders, you went up to your room, Noah not far behind you closing the door and then he sat himself on the edge of the bed.

Noah then stretched his neck from one side to the other, as if preparing for what was about to happen and watching him do that, you practically came on the spot.

“Lay across my lap.”

You went to remove your dress but he stopped you

“Leave it on. You wanted to wear it so badly.”

You walked over to Noah and got comfortable across his lap and he pulled the dress up so he had complete access to you.

“Now for your punish today, I think 15 will do, count each hit and if you miss then we shall start again, understand?”

You nodded in response.

“Use your words angel”

“Yes I understand”

“Remember your safe word?”

Your heart swelled at that as he asks every time he knows he’s about to be rough.

“Yes I do”

“Good girl”

That phrase made your pussy throb, as much as you love being a brat, you also adored his praise.

Noah ran his hand over the back of your legs, he gently parted them slightly and saw the slick coating on the inside of your thighs. Your heart rate increase and you could feel yourself clenching around nothing.

“My dirty girl is looking forward to this huh?”

You were going to respond when out of nowhere he spanked you hard and you let out a deep groan.

“One”

He spanked you again, on the opposite cheek, making sure to keep his hand slightly cupped and not to go to high up so not to hit your lower back.

“Two”

“Are we starting to learn our lesson yet?”

You smiled even though he couldn’t see it. “No.”

“Very well”

Noah was then smacking your bare behind multiple times in a row and you done your best to keep up calling out the numbers with his fast pace, all while you could feel the beautiful stinging pain begin the more he spanked you.

“Ten!”

“That’s my good girl, you’re going a beautiful shade of red baby, shall we take it up a notch for the last 5?”

“Yes sir”

Noah hummed in approval of the name you used, the pain was coming through more now but Noah started to rub you down to soothe you. His hand pulled away briefly and you felt it be replaced with your leather paddle that you didn’t even realised he’d got out ready.

“5 hard smacks angel and then it’s over, you’re doing so good for me.”

You squeezed your thighs together more to try and get relief from the aching you felt, you prayed Noah would reward you soon.

He smacked the paddled down extra hard then he normally did and you cried out and called out “el..eleven!”

“You know what that was for, you get your reward when I say so.”

You nodded and moaned and your body jolted when he then continued the last 4 smacks on you.

“Fifteen!”

You relaxed down on his lap, your backside feeling hot to the touch and was no doubt bright red but you felt his soothing touch as he rubbed over his work for a minute.

Noah gently brought you up and gave you a soft kiss

“You took that so well baby, almost made me feel bad seeing how red you’ve gone, that will definitely bruise later.”

You leaned in and kissed him harder, now straddling his lap and feeling how hot your whole body was. You could feel his erection through his trousers and you started to grind yourself down until his hands stopped you.

“Oh no you don’t angel, we haven’t finished yet”

You stared at him and he brushed your hair out of your face.

“You may have taken your punishment but I don’t feel like I’ve had a proper apology yet”

“I’m sorry Noah…”

“On your knees.”

You dropped down onto your knees immediately, wanting nothing more than to please him however he wanted.

“Suck my cock baby and then maybe I’ll forgive you for acting up today in front of my friends, show me how sorry you are.”

He pulled his boxers and trousers down his hips and legs, just enough to give you access. You watched as his dick fell back onto his stomach, a small amount of precum already leaking out. You wasted no time and licked up his shaft before taking him completely in your mouth and hollowing out your cheeks

“F-fuck baby that’s it”

You grabbed his base with one of your hands while you bobbed your head up and down, no teasing tonight, you cupped his balls with your other hand and gently massaged them making Noah throw his head back letting out guttural growls that you’d normally only hear on the stage while his hand came to rest in your hair guiding you up and down on him.

Next thing you felt was Noah pulling you off him and he brought you in for a kiss, while lifting you onto the bed and pushing your thighs apart so he could rest between them.

“You really are so perfect for me angel”

Noah gave no warning before he dived straight in. A choked cry fell from your lips and he sucked onto your clit and parted your lips with his fingers, to then move down and push his tongue straight in for a taste. Noah was the type of guy who could be between your legs for hours, he was like a thirsty man in a dessert, and he was very smug that he was the first man to ever make your legs shake uncontrollably while eating you out, man is a munch for a reason.

You reached your hand down into his hair and pressed his face into you, trying to grind onto him as you felt yourself getting closer, Noah pulled back and slapped your clit which caused you to jump and moan out.

“Don’t forget your place tonight baby”

You nodded in response but clearly that wasn’t good enough as he delivered another spank down.

“Words”

“Yes Noah, I’ll be good I promise”

You were desperate to cum now, you’d been on the edge for ages and those last two spanks nearly sent you over but you had a feeling Noah wasn’t done with you yet.

Noah kissed your shaky thighs gently, he then gripped your hips down and went straight back in, his face being literally buried in your warmth and your hands are gripping the sheets beneath you while he groans against you, still licking and sucking all over you like you’re his last meal

You could feel your orgasm building up again, your thighs started to shake more and as Noah was sucking on your clit, you felt his fingers at your entrance. Your back arched as he pushed one in, your walls finally having something to hold onto, your cries getting louder and louder. Noah continued as he was, almost with no need for breath, his mouth and fingers working together while he grounded your hips down on the mattress.

“I’m so close Noah”

Noah then pulled away once more with a devilish smirk while you let a choked gasp.

“Have we learned our lesson yet princess?”

You had tears in your eyes, he couldn’t be serious, you were nearly there but Noah loved to edge you as a punishment, he loved to see you beg for him.

“Noah, please I’m so sorry, I won’t ever be a brat in front of your friends again. Please, please let me cum, I’ll be so good for you I promise!”

Noah leant forward, wiped a tear away that had slipped out and gave you a sweet kiss.

“Shhhhh it’s ok baby, I’ve gotcha you”

Noah ran his hands down your sides and settled himself back, he licked a big strip from your opening up to your clit and attached his mouth there while he pushed two fingers back in, Noah wasn’t playing this time, he relentlessly brought you back up to your high, legs shaking, back arching and tears forming in your eyes as you cried out

“Please don’t stop Noah”

And he doesn’t, the arm that’s been holding your hips down, he moves his hand onto your lower tummy and pushes down while he curls his fingers up inside and that’s all it takes for you to feel your orgasm wash over you with a scream.

He doesn’t pull away from you until you’re whining and crying from the overstimulation, you push his head away as the aftershocks are still shaking your body every few seconds and Noah crawls up from between your thighs with his face drenched in your juices. He held you while you came back around, placing small kisses around your collarbone.

“Colour?”

“Green, so green”

Noah let out a small laugh “ok baby, you ready for me?”

You could feel him hard against your thigh, you nodded and leaned up to him for a kiss which he returned. He pulls away and gently removes your dress up over your head and quickly removes the rest of his clothes.

“Turned around, ass up for me.”

You rolled onto your stomach and Noah helped positioned your hips up for him, he ran one hand over your cheek which was definitely sore now but that was forgotten when you felt his head at your entrance. Noah pushed in with no resistance and bottomed out straight away with a loud moan.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good”

Noah held onto your hips and then started a fast, unrelenting pace which caused you to cry out and push back into him. You swear you could feel his tip hitting your stomach with every thrust and Noah wasn’t shy about letting out his own growl’s and groans. You felt your walls closing on him again, your head pressing into the sheets as you called his name. You could only imagine how beautifully sinful he must have looked right now. Noah reached around and started rubbing your clit again.

“One more angel, give me one more, I know you can do it”

Practically screaming you felt yourself crash over the edge and Noah soon followed, his body coming down onto yours, both sweaty and breathless.

You felt Noah pull out gently and rolled you into him, he held onto you as you snuggled into him, your body sore but beautifully spent.

“You ok baby? I’ll be back in a minute ok?”

You nodded as you curled up on the bed, Noah came back in a few minutes later with a glass of water and a warm wash cloth. He gently cleaned you up in between your legs, made you drink some water and then got some cream out of the draw and he rolled you back over to gently rub it over the bruises that were already starting to appear.

You scrunched up your face a little bit, something Noah didn’t miss.

“You done so well for me tonight princess”

Noah got out a comfy t shirt for you and he put on a pair of sweats and then got you both under the covers.

“Is there anything else I can get you baby?”

“No, all I want is a cuddle”

Noah smiled “I think I can manage that”

You curled up into side and he wrapped his arms around you, you felt so warm and safe with him.

Thinking back to the last few hours you let out a small giggle.

“What’s funny?”

“I should play up in front of your friends more often.”

[outstretchedwingzz]

♱ timeloop yan♱

i was scrolling back through some old art and found a drawing from like four years ago of my first ever yan oc!! so now he's y'all's problem hope u love him <3

(THIS IS SO LONG FOR A PART ONE LMAO IM SO SORRY)

⟡ The one on the right is the old art of him!! My boy!!

⟡ His name at one point was Lucas, however I'm retconning that and thinking of a new one because Why Would I Choose Lucas

⟡ Some Tuesdays are just better than others, you've decided. You had a rough day, some kid had spilled fruit punch down your front, you had spent a frankly ridiculous amount of time trying to de-popcorn the aisles of the movie theater you worked at, and you kept getting pestered by some shy dude who wouldn't even buy a ticket! He just kept asking nonsense questions and then shuffling back to the arcade!

⟡ All you wanted to do when you got home was shower until you were a raisin, play video games until your brain was mashed potatoes, and then curl up in your bed.

⟡ The next morning you wake up feeling a little better, very little residual blah left from how shit your previous day was. Luckily, you had today off to reset and recharge.

⟡ That being said, you stayed up late and slept in even later, only to be woken up to the sound of your phone ringing where you had tossed it the night before. You groan and grumble as you get up, shuffling your way to your phone and picking it up.

⟡ It's your boss, because why wouldn't it be, and he's asking you why the hell you aren't there yet! Your brain takes a moment to kick back into gear before you answer that you had worked a double YESTERDAY and had today off.

⟡ All you get is an angry "Check again! And be here before I start goin' grey, yeah?" and then he just hangs up on you. You fucking hate that guy. Still, you check your schedule while grumbling and muttering some not so nice things.

⟡ The shock and dread settles in your stomach when your calendar finally loads in, and in big, bolded letters at the top it tells you that today is Tuesday, and you definitely have work today.

⟡ You register that "oh. i think im passing out." in the second before you hit the corner of your desk.

⟡ You wake up with a gasp, sitting up quick and clutching your chest, looking around wildly only to find yourself.... back in your bed. The clock on your wall tells you it's morning. You scramble quickly to your feet, rushing to grab your phone and begging it to not be slow as you open your calendar.

⟡ Tuesday.

⟡ Now, skipping past the inevitable few Tuesday long breakdown you have where you simply refuse to believe this is happening, you eventually figure out the loop resets every night when you go to sleep, or if you somehow die. That was a fun few days.

⟡ After a week or so of this, and of screaming profanities as your boss over the phone for a few of the loops, you decide to maintain some normalcy you were gonna start going to work. Sure you never gained any money, but at least it got you out of your house and sometimes you could even pretend that things were different day in and day out.

⟡ After awhile even that gets boring though, when everyone becomes recognizable, and you begin to know what movie tickets they're gonna get and their exact food order.

⟡ It's only after three days of monotony (yet you refuse to stop going to work, clinging to the last shreds of some kind of normal) that you realize that it's not all the same.

⟡ Well, one thing changes. That guy, the one who kept asking questions that first day. Sometimes he wasn't even there, and everyday he seemed to have different questions. Ranging from personal, to stuff about the work, but still different.

⟡ It's that sudden lightbulb moment that has you going off the rails just a tiny bit.

⟡ You're stuck waiting a few days for the next time he comes in, but eventually he does. He always does. He's hardly able to get a word out before you're scrambling over the counter, and grabbing him by the front of his shirt. You choke him a little on his own necklace, but that's fine.

⟡ It's not until you're in the corner of that dusty little arcade he hangs out in that you shove him up against the wall, glaring daggers into his soul.

⟡ (Ignore the way he wets his lips and just how much it looks like he's giving you heart eyes right now it's all totally in your imagination.)

⟡ "Who the fuck are you, and how the fuck are you doing this?" Are the first words out of your mouth. He looks confused for a second, going to open his mouth when you just start rambling.

⟡ About the never ending fucking Tuesday, about having to clean up the same spills everyday, about getting the same bullshit call from your boss, about selling everyone the same! Fucking! Movie ticket! It's never ending!

⟡ It's not until you stop to breathe that you realize just how hard he's shaking. Just how his chest heaves as he sobs, hands having came up to clutch at your wrist desperately.

⟡ You step back quickly, dropping his shirt and in turn dropping him. He scrambles forward on his knees, gripping the thighs of your pants with shaking hands.

⟡ "You're stuck too?"

[mytheoristavenue]

Mean!Tokoyami x Sweet!Reader where he knows you like him and just does not care. You go out of his way to pack him lunch, take notes for him when he misses class for his work study, ask him how his day is and he goes out if his way to tell you he's not your friend and to stop.

"I'm not your little boyfriend," he scolds, neck hot from having to look into your sparkly doe eyes. "I don't need you fawning over me, got it?"

Finally, after being shot down so many times, you decide to let sleeping dogs lie and he notices immediately. Since your first day at UA, you've followed him around like a lovesick puppy and now? You just walk right past him. You don't even ask him how his morning was, how he slept, if he at breakfast.

"What gives?" He grumbles coming to walk beside you.

"What do you mean, Tokoyami?" You tilt your head to him, totally neutral to his presence.

He stops in his tracks before shaking is head and catching back up. You've never called him by his last name. It's always been something irritatingly friendly like 'Fumi', 'Toko', or 'Yami'. "Since when do you call me that?"

"Call you what? Tokoyami?" You blink, clueless.

"Don't play dumb," he grumbles, hands shoved in his pockets. "You always call me by a nickname."

"Why would I do that?" You continue, aloof. "It's like you said, we aren't dating. We aren't even friends, it's not appropriate for me to be giving you nicknames like we are."

"We're friends..." he mutters, stare fixed to the floor. "Nevermind that, what's been up with you lately?"

"I don't see what you mean." You continue, hardly paying him mind at this point.

"Oh stop," he huffs, exhausted with your charade. "You used to fawn all over me, now it's like you don't even see me."

"You told me to stop and I did." You answer matter of factly, stepping into the elevator.

"Yeah, I've told you that like everyday for the better part of three years, why is it just now sticking?" He rolls his eyes, holding the doors open before stepping in.

"Why are you upset?" You respond with a question, adjusting how your books sit in your arms.

"I'm not."

"Then why does it matter?" You ask, finally looking at him in earnest. "Tokoyami, I never had some silly infatuation with you, I had real feelings for you. I put so much effort into trying to prove that to you and you ever so much as tried to give me a chance. You didn't even let me down easy. Why shouldn't I move on with my life?"

Tokoyami had never considered how your back and forth affected you. He'd always assumed you'd be obsessed with him forever. "You don't like me anymore?"

"I didn't say that," you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "It'll take a while to get over it but-"

"D-Don't get over it." He interrupts, looking away bashfully and rubbing the back of his neck. "O-Over me, I mean..."

You narrow your eyes, fury bubbling in your stomach. "You've got some nerve-"

"I've always liked you." He finally confesses with a heavy sigh. "I-I've been offstandish because it was hard for me to accept that you had actual feelings for me..." To your dismay, all your anger suddenly melts away. You're heart just can't help but soar. "At first, it bugged me how you were always by my side, confessing and going out of your way for me at every turn but...somewhere along we way I grew to like the attention." He looked back up at you, offering a hand. "And...it really bothered me when you suddenly stopped."

Hesitantly, you take his hand. "Don't think I'm not still frustrated with you," you warn with a glare.

"I know," he confirms with a sheepish nod, thumb brushing your knuckles gently. "But I wanna start making up for it," he flashes you a smile, vermillion eyes searching for validation. "Would you let me take you out this weekend?"

"Oh, Fumi..." you gasp, giggling with delight. His eyes widen with hope when you call him by a nickname. Suddenly you deadpan. "No."

Panic flashes across his face, only strengthened by your fit of laughter. "Sorry, sorry, I couldn't resist!" You snicker. "Of course I'll go out with you."

"Oh fuck off," he shakes his head, fed up with your antics as the elevator stops and he steps out. "Saturday, be ready by six or I'm going without you."

[merrybloomwrites]

One Direction - Health Scare

Summary: When the workload leads to a medical emergency, the boys are there to take care of you.

Word Count: 941

CW: seizure, hospitals

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being in One Direction is a dream come true.

It’s also the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life. The work is incredibly fun, but also extremely grueling. You have expectations on you for every waking minute. There’s hardly time for a break or rest.

When you do sleep, it’s often on a bus, and never quite as restful as you hope. 

Halfway through the current tour, you begin to really feel the exhaustion. Not only are you and the boys doing a show nearly every day, but you’re also recording the next album. On the rare occasions when you have a night in a hotel, you’re often woken up to re-record something.

You can tell you’re not the only one who is getting run down, but you also feel like the boys are handling it better than you are. 

So you keep quiet, not wanting to complain to them when they all have their own stuff going on as well.

What you don’t know is how they’ve noticed how drained you are, and have talked amongst them about it. They’re worried, but they have no clue how to help. So they try to take care of you in subtle ways.

Liam is always making sure you have water or some sort of power drink, reminding you how important it is to stay hydrated.

Niall gets you food any time he grabs some for himself. He’d noticed you would skip meals on occasion and decided he couldn’t allow that on his watch.

Zayn asks you to meditate with him, saying that he does better with a partner. You don’t realize that he often does this when you’re most stressed, and he really wants to get you to take a minute to breathe. 

Louis gets into shenanigans, making you laugh and reminding you that not everything needs to be serious all the time. 

Harry asks you to hang on the couch with him on the rare times you get breaks. He’ll wrap an arm around you and tell a story. Sometimes you sit and listen, sometimes you take a power nap. Either way he’s happy to help you get some rest whenever possible.

But all of that isn’t enough. There’s something going on in your body that no one can see. You start to get dizzy, and these spells become more frequent.

Each of the boys have caught you more than once at this point, always helping you sit down to make sure you don’t get hurt. Their worry heightens every time this happens.

And then things get worse.

It’s early morning, and you had yet another fitful night of sleep on the bus. You head to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, and find Harry and Liam already there. They wish you a good morning, and you go to say the same, but find yourself unable to form words. That’s when your world goes dark.

Harry rushes to break your fall, and notices this isn’t like the other dizzy spells. Before he gets you safely to the ground you begin to shake in his arms.

“Oh my god,” Liam says. “She’s having a seizure. Get her on her side, quickly!” The two of them move you, cushioning your head and making sure there’s nothing nearby you can hit as you continue to have convulsions. 

The other three boys rush into the kitchen, having heard Liam shouting. 

“What the hell is going on?” Louis asks.

Liam is quick to explain, saying, “She’s having a seizure. Louis, call an ambulance, Niall call management and tell them what’s going on. Zayn get the driver to pull over.” They all do as they’re told while Harry continues to support you. After nearly two minutes, the seizing stops, but you’re still quite out of it. 

You don’t fully come to for a while, and by that point you’re in the hospital, Harry by your side and security standing by the door. 

“Hey there,” Harry says. “How are you feeling?”

“Uhm, okay I think?” you reply. “What happened?” 

“You had a seizure. Scared the shit out of us,” he answers with a chuckle, letting you know he’s not actually mad.

“Sorry about that.”

“Hey, don’t apologize. We just want to figure out what’s going on with you and help you get better, okay?”

Before you can answer, a doctor walks in. She introduces herself and asks you a bunch of questions. When she asks if you know where you are you reply, “Unfair question, I never know where I am.” Your cheeky reply let’s Harry know you’re feeling better, and you share a smile at the inside joke. 

After a full workup you’re discharged with orders to see a neurologist. The other boys are waiting, somewhat impatiently, for you to get back to them. You’re informed that the upcoming week of shows have been postponed so you can rest, and you know that the boys fought hard to make that happen. 

You spend the week in a hotel, and though you each have your own room, everyone piles into yours. They watch you for any signs that you’re about to have another seizure, and Liam goes with you to your neurologist appointment in order to fill the doctor in on everything that happened. 

You don’t have answers yet, but you find that you’re not worried. Not when you have the biggest support team there to take care of you. And though your job is hard, and at times overwhelming, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Not when it led you to find the people who will be there for you, no matter what.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Hope you enjoyed the final One Direction ficlet! Full series and longer oneshots are coming soon!

[inferencesarchives]

Hello! Could you do Pure Vanilla Cookie x Fem! Ancient reader, whose kingdom is like a spiritual kingdom and The Reader Is just very stressed?? Like, very little time to eat, sleep, ect. How could PV maybe comfort her?? Have a nice day!!

`•- Time for Yourself

pure vanilla cookie x fem reader

summary: pure vanilla notices you haven't been acting like yourself lately. how does he help you feel better?

warnings: physical touch, pure vanilla is kind of a worry wart, also im not super proud of the writing on this one so im sorry if it's not as good as my other stuff :((

a/n: is it bad that when i went to the store today and saw pure vanilla extract on the shelf i thought of pure vanilla cookie

Pure Vanilla Cookie has noticed the lack of letters you've been sending him recently.

Of course, he knows that ruling a kingdom is no simple ordeal, and, of course, there's no way you would be able to send him a letter every day. However, despite that, you've always made sure to send him letters frequently and inform him of every nifty little thing going on in your life.

That is, up until roughly three and a half weeks ago.

You used to send him letters every four or five days to keep him updated on everything going on in your kingdom, and he always wrote back when he received your letters. However, when he responded to a letter you sent about three and a half weeks ago, you hadn't written anything back to him.

He found this behavior very strange, as you were always enthusiastic about being able to talk with him whenever you got the chance. Pure Vanilla Cookie was, frankly, getting rather worried about you and how you were doing. So, he decided to take a trip over to your kingdom to see for himself what was wrong.

When he finally arrived, Pure Vanilla Cookie was quick to stride towards your castle, making haste towards your office, where you spent most of your time. Gently knocking on the door, he quietly entered the room, as to not disturb you too much. He immediately notices your eyebags, the empty coffee mugs littered around your desk, and the way you don't even glance at him when he enters the room, thinking it was just some servant needing to ask a quick question or something of the like. Needless to say, when he spoke up, you immediately turned and stared at him in surprise.

"My Dear, has everything been okay lately?" He gently asks. "Ah! Pure Vanilla Cookie? What are you doing here?" You respond, shocked. You had no idea he was coming, you had no time to prepare, you didn't want him to see you like this.

"Are you alright?" He slowly walks toward you before draping his cloak over your shoulders, "You haven't responded to my letter for weeks, and you look awfully tired. How long have you been sitting here working today?" He looks at you with worry swirling in his eyes.

As you sit there failing to answer his question, he gently places a hand on your head and caresses your hair, sighing, "You need to remember to take care of yourself, you know. You can hardly handle this much work in the state that you're in. Why don't you rest for a bit?"

You look at him with tired eyes, attempting to provide a counter-argument, "I know, I know, but-" "No buts. You're going to go lay in bed and read a nice book to help you de-stress. I'll also fetch you some tea. Then, perhaps you can take a nap. You'll feel a lot better when you wake up," He suddenly picked you up, carrying you back to your bedroom before you can even say anything. Perhaps he was right though, as you were indeed doing a lot better the next morning. Perhaps self-care really is important after all.

a/n: not me writing a fic about self-care at 2 am when i haven't slept and i am in fact not taking care of myself lmao uhhhhhh i promise ill get some sleep once i finish up the rest of the requests i swear i pinky promise i swear

thanks for reading, and remember to take care of yourself! don't be like me lmao

[tripleyeeet]

SICK LITTLE GAMES

SUMMARY: Astarion arrives to interrupt your sleep. Like always. PAIRING: Astarion Ancunin/Female Reader WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, teasing, oral sex (fem receiving), overstimulation, blood drinking, brat taming if you squint real hard. A/N: I have no idea how this mother fucker got into my house but here we are. A little blast from the past.

MASTERLIST

-

​​The affection comes in waves. Like the ocean, they’re unpredictable and rough —enveloping you under the hurried embrace of an overly confident Astarion who often appears out of nowhere. The sensations of desperation always filling his features as he piles into your tent well into the night, still smelling of the viscera of his latest catch. 

Whenever it happens, you’re hardly ready for it. With sleep still in your eyes and the confusion of someone who’s seemingly just awoken from death itself, it always takes you a few moments to register that he’s talking to you. And, that his needy hands have already begun to pull at your clothes, adjusting the fabric in ways that better cater to his curious eyes. 

“Hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time,” he jokes. His voice low and hungry. A telltale sign that he’s here for something requiring not only your company but your undivided attention too, causing you to sigh. 

“Well, I was sleeping,” you say, your palm moving up to rub your eye, feeling the pressure that’s already begun to develop as revenge for not immediately taking care of your already lacking sleep schedule. “But some bastard decided to ruin that.” 

He tuts and further cages you against your bedroll, fingers idly stroking your exposed skin. “You want me to take care of them, love? Tear them to shreds for waking you up?” 

At that, you snort and move your knee towards the inner part of his thigh, spreading it slightly as a sign that, despite the interruption, you’re willing to forget his transgressions. “It’s alright,” you mumble. “I can handle him. He’s pretty weak.” 

“Weak?” 

You laugh at his dramatic response, your eyes slightly narrowing to better view the pout on his lips. His expression pinching in annoyance as you reach up and instantly try to smooth everything back out. “Apologies. I meant more so that he’s… distracted.”  

“Right, of course.” He releases a huff and lowers his face to yours, a petty smirk now appearing. “That makes more sense considering the rather precarious position he’s found you in.” 

“And what position might that be?” 

As you ask, you can feel his hands moving to grip your waist. The surprisingly tender feeling making you twitch as he bares his teeth in amusement. His expression shifting from slightly annoyed to completely enraptured in the span of a second thanks to the instinctual reactions you offer in regards to his touch. 

“Awfully willing to please,” he simply replies then, the coolness of his tone making you roll your eyes and raise your hands to pinch his cheeks.

“You’re disgusting, you know that? Crawling into my tent in the dead of night so that you can get off on my hospitality. Shameful.”

All he does is humorously hum and lower his face further, the warmth laced within your features spreading down the length of your neck as he aims to claim it with a kiss. “Be less complacent then.”

As if by routine, you open your mouth to argue further but quickly find yourself closing back up when his tongue darts out to taste your flesh. The slick, hot organ easily finding that spot that always seems to render you useless, causing your mind to turn off. Every verbal thought you once had vanishing against the movement of his hands hungrily holding your jaw and rising beneath your tattered tunic.

“I’d say be quiet so the others don’t hear but I see you’re already too blissed out to function,” Astarion chuckles, his lips brushing against you. The lack of previous contact leaving you writhing beneath him —hands moving to wrap around his neck in protest. 

“Hey Astarion, for once, can you not tease me?” 

He pretends to think for a moment, but ultimately refuses, showing his defiance in the form of slowed movements and a smirk that leaves you wishing you had the resolve to kick him out. “Mm, but what would be the fun in that?” 

Again, you huff in annoyance. Even though you’d already expected this the moment he first arrived. Considering Astarion’s never been one the type to simply give into anything, it’s no surprise that even in bed there always has to be a challenge or a game involved. Some sadistic form of foreplay that often causes the end result to unfortunately feel all the more worth it when it arrives, causing you to blindly follow.

“It’d certainly speed things up so I can—oh, fuck you.”

He wastes no time riling you up some more. Before you finish your increasingly irrelevant argument, you feel his teeth drag across your skin, the sharpest points grazing your most sensitive spot with ease. “Language, darling.”

Almost immediately, you press your lips together in protest. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of fighting further as he lifts his head to study you. His eyes focusing on the various sections of your face —memorizing every inch as his other hand draws patterns into your side. A feeling that becomes almost unbearable as time goes on. Thanks to the way he’s staring at you —eyes filled with the desire to ruin— you can’t help but feel impatient. Your body shifting beneath him to garner some sort of response that might speed things along. 

“I know what you’re doing.”

“Then hurry up,” you practically whine. No longer caring about how desperate you sound. Or how you look when you grip the collar of his shirt to yank him back down again. “Otherwise I’ll kick you out.” 

“Ha! No you won’t.” 

“I will.” 

Despite knowing otherwise, he concedes… slightly. Granting you the satisfaction of sharing the kind of kiss that starts off simple and sweet but quickly becomes tainted. The temptation of potential clouding your minds as Astarion reaches for the back of your head, gripping the roots of your hair —both of you pushing the other to gain control. 

Unsurprisingly, it ends up being him that comes out on top. After a long battle of teeth and tongues, he inevitably pries himself away to look down at your breathless form. Admiring the way your chest repeatedly rises and falls, attempting to suck in enough air so that you can scold him for his actions. 

“Gods, you certainly are adorable.” 

“Oh—shut up.” 

He laughs and shakes his head, moving a hand to your cheek. “No honestly, it’s incredible how much defiance one person can have,” he tells you, stroking your skin. “Normally, I’d have the average begging for release by now.”

“Not sure how resilience correlates to adorableness.” 

He presses another kiss to your mouth. This time refusing to satisfy. “Hm, it’s more the lack there of that I find adorable.” 

You roll your eyes. “Right, of course.”

In response, he lets out a laugh. Allowing the air to thicken around you. Your shared arousal fuelling the need to fall into your usual roles as you swallow hard and further spread your legs. No longer caring how submissive you look underneath his smug stare. 

“Right to the point, I see. How” —he pauses, leaning in to place another chaste kiss to your lips— “Dull.” 

All you do is huff and bump his thigh with your knee. The fussy action doing enough to disrupt his patience, causing him to scowl and grab your thigh, giving it a light squeeze.

“I see the lack of rest is making you testy.” 

You narrow your eyes and release him, forcing your arms to cross over your chest. “I’d say the vampire refusing to fuck me is more so the reason.”

“Oh hush.” Shaking his head, he reaches down to detangle your defiant arms so that he can better see you. His eyes immediately making their rounds in ways that do numbers on your heart as you continue to lay there, always cursed to endure this little game of his. “In no way am I refusing. In fact, if you quit being so huffy I might go the extra mile and linger a bit afterwards.” 

“Oh, my gods, like a sleepover?” you say sarcastically, bringing your hands up to hold your cheeks like a child. Prompting him to immediately swat them away as if the mere sight of them makes him want to vomit. 

Which only makes you laugh and reach for his face, pulling him down for another kiss that quickly becomes something more than intended. The simple act fuelling Astarion’s desire to progress. To pin you down further into the bedroll as he inevitably detaches himself, opting for other parts of your body to cling to as he makes his way down. The process of it all driving your mind wild as he effortlessly nips and sucks a series of markings into your skin. His own mind finding the blooms of colour to be rather beautiful as he continues down your neck and chest, lingering at your stomach before he pushes your shirt over your head to gain better access.

“Beautiful,” you hear him mutter then. His voice soft and low —an echo of your own thoughts as you glance down to see him sitting up to discard your pants. His hands tucking themselves under the waistband to awkwardly shuck them down as you lift your hips to help.

Then, everything moves at exactly the right pace. As Astarion continues his descent to settle between your thighs, there are no more words needed. Only the resolve to survive as his cold hands graze the edge of your cunt, pushing the fabric aside so that he can get a decent look before pushing his thumb through your folds.

“Unsurprisingly ready, I see,” he practically scolds, but in response you say nothing. Instead, opting to buck your hips ever so slightly to egg him on, causing a low sigh to waft gently across your skin before he gives in.   

At which point, you’ve already built everything up so highly in your head. The mere image of it making the actual act feel all the more satisfying as he begins to work your slit. Using both his thumb and tongue to taunt and tease —barely applying enough pressure to strengthen the imaginary band beneath your flesh. 

It’s horrific, you think. The ability he has to render you so completely willing and useless. Because not only is it simultaneously the best and worst thing you’ve ever experienced, but it’s obviously dangerous too. Bordering on a sign of weakness that has you whimpering for more as he eventually wraps his lips around your clit to suckle the sensitive skin. Humming in response to the sounds that slip from your lips as he continues to stimulate the surrounding area.

“Fuck, Astarion—“

Your voice catches. Failing to continue once it dawns on you that words aren’t really necessary right now. Not when he’s giving you what you want in the form of nips and licks that become almost pressurized once you feel the presence of his nose begin to make its way down. The end of it nudging the space where his mouth once was. Acting as some sort of placeholder as his tongue begins to ravage your folds in ways that make your eyes practically roll to the back of your head. Your mind emptying to make room for your body to take over, causing you to reach down and grab the roots of his hair for something to anchor to. 

Something you know he enjoys based on the hum that reverberates against your entrance. The sensation of it only furthering your arousal as he picks up the pace, driving you closer and closer to the edge with rough fingers that begin to push inside of you. Each one curling to stack the pleasure until you’re writhing beneath him —panting so loud that you’re sure the whole camp can hear you. 

Not that you care, though. Not when Astarion’s pumping his fingers so ruthlessly. Not when he’s lapping hungrily through your flesh. Not when he’s moaning against your cunt, begging for you to let go. 

In fact, the only thing you care about is the feeling of that final snap. The aforementioned band cracking against your base to create a series of punishing aftershocks that have you raising your hips. Your body moving to get away but finding itself unable when Astarion roughly moves to hold you down, continuing his ministrations as you cover your mouth to stop yourself from waking up the entire bloody camp. 

Which only serves as fuel for him to lift his head and look at your writhing form. The entirety of you twitching and squirming as his fingers remained locked in their routine, unable to stop due to how delicious you look pleading for him to stop long after he’s dipping his head back between your thighs to sink his teeth into the plushest part. Drawing enough blood to feed as you cry out, no longer able to fight him.

[allzelemonz]

Bruises: Arthur Morgan X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 18, Spanking Pronouns: None Mentioned, masculine implication Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: M/Mild sexual themes Warnings: Mentions of violence and injuries sustained, marking, spanking, bruising, fantasizing, masturbation, anal fingering, cuddling, kissing, aftercare, sex put off in favor of cuddling Summary: Arthur loves being put over your knee and this is the longest you’ve been apart. A/N: This was supposed to be an angst day but Arthur decided he deserves better. I didn’t plan on this being as sweet as it turned out, but here we are. Consider this a tooth rotting warning.

Arthur always has bruises. They litter his body from the many times he’s been shot, hit, generally roughed up, or thrown off his horse. Those bruises, he doesn’t like. However, as he stands in front of the hotel mirror he finds himself frowning at the bruises on his ass having faded. Normally when he looks in the mirror he averts his eyes away, not finding himself all that appealing, but he will check to see if his injuries are healing when he can’t see them. It was only his intention to check on a bullet wound after having his bath, but now he knows why he hasn’t been hurting while he sits.

He’ll have to see you when he gets back to camp.

Of course, he’s impatient, touching himself to memories of bending over your knee while he lies in the plush hotel bed. Spanking was something he asked you to do after realizing how much he liked when you gripped at his ass to spread his cheeks or simply knead the muscle. Ever since then, he gets bent over your knee and spanked black and blue at least once a month. The rough fingering that follows is always nice, and exactly why he’s snaked a hand under himself and now struggles to find that nice spot you always manage to get on the first try.

The days that follow his spankings are always sweet and Arthur loves them about as much as the actual sex. You pamper him to say the least, insisting to the gang that their workhorse is due for a break and they back off to give him a lazy day. You fetch him food and water, Arthur only stands to sneak out of his tent with a limp so he can piss. And if you’re not wrapped up in doing Arthur’s chores for him, you fuck him again, this time gentle.

So when Arthur cums onto the soft sheets, he relaxes and smiles at the thought of the next few days.

Camp is busy, bustling even. Arthur hitches his horse and realizes why, the weather is actually nice for once. People are easily going about with their chores, everyone seems in a good mood. But Arthur’s falls when he speaks to Dutch.

“He’s out on a job with Micah, got a stagecoach route they’re spending a few days on.”

Arthur laggingly does his chores, giving half-hearted smiles to people that say hello. It has been a week since he’s seen you, the longest he’s gone without. And ever since you started sharing his little cot, Arthur has found it difficult to even sleep without you. Not to mention, he never likes when you pair up with Micah for jobs. Every time he goes out himself with the crazy bastard, he nearly gets shot, so it makes him worry for you. Not to mention the need, but that hardly matters when Arthur just wants to see you.

He spends the first night lying in his cot for a few hours, eventually deciding to grasp at the picture of the two of you he managed to get developed. He stares at it for a moment, his eyes looking over your somewhat annoyed face in the picture, before his hand digs into his pants and he strokes lazily. He’s not usually this needy, but his fantasies from yesterday being unfullied make him annoyingly hard. The orgasm helps him nod off at least, his dreams turning to nightmares rather quickly and making him get up to change his pants and head off to hunt in the woods around camp to keep his mind busy. He doesn’t want those scenes in his head, every negative thought circling around.

The next day he distracts himself with dominos, shifting in his seat every few seconds to see if he can feel any of those bruises still. He can’t and it irritates him enough to lose to Sean of all people. Then a boasting voice catches his attention.

“Six-hundred, fer the family, Dutchy.” Micah grins, handing the large stack of money over. “An�� a couple jewels an’ such.”

Hosea takes the bags that you hand him, Arthur watching all the while. Dutch puts his hand on your shoulder, giving you a proud smile and a nod before sending you off.

As you walk away, Micah steps closer to Dutch. “Ya proud a’ me?”

Arthur tunes it out, focusing on you instead of Micah’s annoying attempts at sucking up. You find him easily and Arthur excuses himself from Sean and the game to meet you halfway. He takes your hand swiftly, pulling to his tent where he can kiss you like he wants in private. Your lips are chapped and dry but he hardly cares, kissing you hungrily and holding you close.

“What’s that all about, darling?” You smile, your hands resting on Arthur’s hips and making his heart skip.

“Been waitin’ for ya is all.” He sighs, kissing you again.

You stop him after a few seconds. “Go ahead and tell me what you want, Arthur.”

Arthur glances out at camp, finding most people minding their own business. Even Dutch is over by the fire for once, chatting with Hosea. Arthur moves to tug at the fabric of his roof, letting it drop down to cover the sides to enclose you. As he finishes the last tug, he feels your arms around his waist and he relaxes back against you for a moment.

“I want ya ta put me over yer knee.” He says, much less shameful that he’s sounded in the past.

“Bruises healed?” You question, kissing his neck softly.

“Uh-huh.” Arthur hums, turning in your arms to face you. “Need new ones so I ain’t missin’ ya so much.”

You smile, taking his hand in yours and pulling him back with you. You sit on his cot, your legs spread a bit as you pat your knee. Arthur scrambles to undress himself, thankful when he hears the music start up from Dutch’s tent. With his body bare, he situates himself over your lap with his back arched and his ass presented up for you. It’s a position he used to find embarrassing, but with no one to see him he doesn’t particularly care anymore.

He feels your hand run over his cheek, rubbing it softly for a moment before it disappears. Then it returns with a hard slap, making the excess skin jump from the contact. Arthur groans, hardening against your leg as you rub the  presumably reddening skin. You give his other cheek the same treatment and Arthur shivers with every blow. You continue for nearly half an hour and Arthur holds back asking you to stop despite the numbness because he feels so good with the slight sting and the little ruts against your leg.

“Arthur?” You say gently, your hand giving soothing circles on his skin.

He hums, his mind slightly fogged with pleasure and comfort.

“You alright?”

“‘m fine, darlin’… just…” He wiggles his hips slightly, smiling to himself. “Just happy.”

Your hand runs up along his back and Arthur sighs in comfort. He feels so nice, satisfied without being touched or taken.

“Can we lie down…” Arthur mumbles. “‘m tired.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” You say, your hands helping him sit up. “Not in the mood anymore?”

He shakes his head despite the erection he has. “Ya can still fuck me if ya want, darlin’. I don’ wanna disappoint… ‘m just…”

“You don’t have to explain.” You press a kiss to Arthur’s forehead. “I’m happy just to hold you, okay?”

Arthur nods. He moves slowly, laying himself down on his side with his back pressed against the wagon. You follow suit and Arthur melts into your arms, his submissive side coming out even more as he mumbles little thanks and nuzzles your chest.

“You’re gonna get cold.” You mutter and Arthur realizes he’s naked.

When you lie down after sex you both usually put on something to cover your lower halves, but now Arthur lies bare while you’re fully clothed. He knows there’s a blanket folded up on the crates, but he doesn’t want you to leave.

“You can keep me warm, darlin’.” He mutters, hugging you tight. “Don’ leave.”

Arthur knows his words are double edged. He doesn’t want you to leave the bed, he doesn’t want you to leave him alone for so long again. Not just to keep those bruises he likes, but because he can’t handle it when you’re gone for so long. So he hides his smile against your chest when you kiss his head.

“I won’t.”

[arent-i-the-fairest]

I can't live like this any longer. PLEASE I NEED YOU TO WRITE NEIGE CONTENT OF ANYTHING PLEASEEEEE

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 (𝟐)

he takes care of you while you’re sick. (romantic)

author’s note : in addition to neige, i wrote hcs for che’nya and rollo! i love these three so much <333

crowley, crewel, and sam ver. of this prompt here!

neige leblanche

“you really called off a photoshoot just to come take care of me? you know you didn’t have to,” you said, smiling softly. neige shook his head.

“oh, i know, i know. but i just couldn’t help myself. the thought of you being all alone while sick just makes me so sad!” he pouts, taking your hands in his. “so i had to come! now, come on and lay down. take it easy and just leave everything to me! i’ll take good care of you.”

he babies you so hard, it’s to the point you almost feel embarrassed. like, he spoons feed you and everything. but he seems no shame in it!

he also decides to take it upon himself to do all ramshackle’s housekeeping and chores for you. (househusband material, honestly.)

no matter how many times you warn him that your sickness is contagious, he can’t resist giving you little kisses throughout the day. so it was no surprise when he called saying he was sick the next day…

“don’t say you didn’t expect this to happen, neige.”

neige only let out a whine and hid his face in the fluffy pile of blankets you brought him. as much as you wanted to scold him for not listening to your warnings, seeing him in such a pitiful state made it impossible.

you’ll save the lecture for later. for now, you’ll be gentle with him, just like he was with you while you were sick.

che’nya

“oh my, you’re not looking too well!” che’nya chuckles, quirking his head to the side as he looks at you. “well, don’t worry. nurse artemiy artemiyevich pinker is here to help you recover!”

you didn’t have the highest expectations when it came to his caregiving skills, but he actually does really well at taking care of you. he’s very attentive when it comes to your needs. be warned though, he will ask you if you’re feeling better like every 20 minutes just to annoy you.

he’ll exaggerate his cat behaviors to entertain you— and maybe to get you to coo over him being cute. he’ll knead blankets (or perhaps your lap if he wants to rest there instead), bump his head against you, and the like. if you had a cat toy, he’d probably play with it. all without feeling the slightest bit of embarrassment too.

“i’ve gotta ask… did you really come here to take care of me, or was this just an elaborate plan to get me to pet you?” you joked as you scratched behind che’nya’s ears.

“oh no, you’ve caught on! i just came for some pets,” he teased back, purring and leaning into your touch. “— just kidding, of course. hehe.”

you chuckle and lay your head against his chest, listening to the calming sound of his purring as you drift off to sleep.

rollo flamme

you got sick from getting hit by several spells. the perpetrators were none other than ace and deuce, whose fight you accidentally got caught in the crossfire of. (they’ve apologized to you over ten times for this..)

with all the chaos that’s been thrown your way so far, you hardly cared. this is just another tuesday at nrc for you. but you know who did care? rollo.

needless to say, he was not happy to hear of this situation. it’s only served to support his resolve of wanting to eradicate magic.

he tries to hide his anger about the context of how you got sick… and he doesn’t do a good job at it. you’ll look at him once in a while and his face will be twisted up in a scowl. or sometimes you’ll hear him muttering under his breath about “vile reckless mages…” and the like.

knowing how no-nonsense he is, you were a bit nervous about being in his care. but he ended up being a lot more gentle with you than you expected! (… he still made you study though. no falling behind in school on his watch.)

just like neige, he took it upon himself to do all the housekeeping for you. and you swear, you’ve never seen ramshackle so spotless. rollo does not play when it comes to cleanliness.

you watch in amusement as ace and deuce desperately try to convince rollo to let them enter your dorm. rollo is not even slightly swayed by their pleas, standing his ground on not letting them step foot in ramshackle.

“you two are the reason the prefect is ill in the first place. you’ve proven yourselves to be dangerous. i will not take the risk of letting you miscreants in and causing any more trouble for them.” rollo glares down at the pair, getting ready to shut the door on them. you quietly laugh at how protective he’s being.

you walk over to rollo, gently pulling him away from the door to let ace and deuce in. “come on, rollo. let them in. i’m sure they’ll be on their best behavior, especially with you here watching them like a hawk.”

rollo sighs and finally relaxes. “hmph… fine.”

[roryacker]

WereGhost Masterlist

Figured I'd start this sooner rather than later that way all I have to do later is just grab a link, pop it in, and add a summary, then we're good. The hard part is done ahead of time wooo.

Looking for a specific part? Wanna start from the beginning? Just wanna see them all compiled into a list? Here's a masterlist :) I also describe what exactly is what for the sake of simplicity, give the parts a lil summary and all.

Will be updated with every part I add whenever I can get to my computer. You can also find every part by searching for the tags "Werewolf Ghost AU" or "WereGhost" on this blog, but variety is nice. And yknow they're numbered here and all

https://www.tumblr.com/roryacker/769702636726501376/the-website-ive-been-using-for-art-on-my-phone?source=share (First Sketch - sucks)

https://www.tumblr.com/roryacker/769705906158141440/i-could-not-sit-there-and-let-that-first-one-be?source=share (First Design - no story but a little mini rundown on what it even is)

First Part - Simon is injured via beartrap while being hunted down. Introduces Simon, wolfhunts- a major theme in the story- and, of course, Johnny. Mentions a mysterious older man speaking with Johnny, but does not give him a name.

Second Part - Simon gets muzzled so Johnny can sleep without having to worry about being mauled or something, Simon eventually falls asleep. Johnny offers him food and Simon snaps at him to scare him off.

Third Part - more about wolfhunts and Simon getting used to warmth and comfort. Simon is force-fed some medicine despite not actually minding it, simply wanting to be difficult so Johnny doesn't think of him as sweet or docile. Johnny leaves the door open one morning while leaving with the older man, but Simon decides not to leave, much to Johnny's relief.

Fourth Part - no art attached - routines keep changing and Simon doesn't like it. Johnny starts talking with a woman who seems kind enough, but this prompts him into hiding Simon, as well as making him smell different and leave more often. Eventually, as he gets healthier, Simon decides to leave on his own, assuming Johnny will toss him out anyways, and falls asleep in his old territory, yearning for Johnny's home but deciding that it's for the best.

Fifth Part - Johnny finds Simon sulking out in the woods, having spent a while looking for him. Johnny realizes Simon isn't just a wolf, but urges him to come back, regardless. Simon reveals himself and follows, and is met with a warm home and a friend. (I also wasn't gonna mention it but after a few days of thinking about it I figure I should mention some casual nudity?? I'm not any less 16 than I was before and it wasn't added for any nefarious purposes, it's a perfectly SFW bath scene where it hardly focuses on him not having clothes on outside of just... taking a bath.... but I figure best to leave some sort of warning so it isn't out of nowhere. I think I meant to at first and forgot. It's only Simon, only because. Wolves don't exactly waltz around wearing clothing, now, do they)

Sixth Part - eventually

A better summary of the whole story:

Simon is a werewolf; he comes from a long line of them, in his very blood, but has been seen as a pest by the local town since he was just a pup. When he was younger he'd whine and beg outside of homes so children would feed him thinking of him as a harmless dog, until eventually on an especially instinct-driven night he broke into a chicken coop and was caught. With his shifted form being incredibly recognizable, wolfhunts are regular for him, and the townsfolk know exactly who he is. When he gets caught in a bear trap on one of these hunts, a human finds him, but seems to take pity on him, instead, and drags him back home to help him, instead. From there, Simon adjusts to living within a warm, comfortable home, where meals are offered to him and not earned with teeth and claws, where he's offered medicine and bandages and not made to clean wounds with his tongue and wait out the injury, all while telling himself that he can't get attached. (Spoiler: he does.)

It started out as an art thing because I am a sucker for turning characters into animals (on top of it being what I've drawn for my entire life, I'm talking since I was like 3 here, it's a really good way for me to understand characters in my own little way) and then turned into a way to drag myself back into writing again and get over my anxiety about posting silly things I like because screw it dude I'm happy with this. Who cares. It's the internet. People do worse.

It does not only revolve around Ghost while shifted, and will 100% have him as a human, and will not always have art to accompany it. I told myself it would but let's be honest here art is hard sometimes and I care a lot more about the writing tbh.

WereGhost is entirely SFW (I'm 16 ofc it is) but the end goal is SoapGhost/Ghoap/whatever your preferred name for them is, and there is lots of violence I will not lie. It's a werewolf story taking place in the undecided time period past where the very first part (with writing) involves him getting bear trapped because he's being hunted, that was kind of a given from the start.

Personal detail under the cut, it's nothing super serious just a little explanation for later on, but I figure since it's just about my life I'd hitcha with a Keep Reading.

No set schedule ADHD would kill me if I tried, updates will slow down around January as I'm applying for a job then. Still, I love this thing, it won't die out it'll just happen less. Once I do get a job I'll ideally be awake around 10-2PM and should be at work at 4 (all just vague estimates, it's bound to change but that's the plan), so that means I'll have from when I get home to however long I'm awake after, the few hours I have before work, plus days off (which will likely be spent with family more than anything) to try and get stuff out. Also meaning not guaranteed haha, but I will try simply for these two, and because woah I'm writing again.

[multifariousqueer]

Yandere Jake Peralta x Reader Headcanons

A/n: heyyyy guys. So ik it's been a minute but... I'm back I think. Anyways, I hope yall enjoy this.

Warnings: Yandere behaviors, Stockholm Syndrome, brief mentions of bl00d, stalkerish behavior, i think thats it

I feel like he would be the delusional/stalkerish yandere, yk? Like I don't think Jake would intentionally hurt you just maybe gaslight you.

At first, everything felt so natural that you wouldn't even know that anything was wrong. He would be very sweet, and attentive, but he would know things about you that you had never told him.

Would absolutely have a binder on you, your family, blood type, rarity, and everything else(assisted by Amy ofc).

He would bring things up from the binder and you would be so confused

"So yeah I went to give blood yesterday..." "Oh, the one on 7th street right?" "Uhhh yeah, how did you know?" "Well, they always use the butterfly needles on you and they're always kind there, so."

You become a bit more suspicious of Jake after this and he senses that so he does a better job of hiding his obsession.

Everyone always writes him off as being oblivious and airheaded but he's a literal cop.

Would have 24/7 surveillance on you either from Boyle/Rosa making sure you were safe, or from cameras around the city.

When you try to leave, he would bring up how you hardly spend time together.

"Y/n all I'm saying is that you were all I could think about while I was in Florida and I missed you so bad. Can't you just see your parents another day?" "Okay, baby. I missed you too."

Gives you puppy dog eyes and you immediately cave.

Keeps photos of you in his wallet and plastered around his apartment.

When he was undercover, he would kiss pictures of you that he kept and watch surveillance cameras to make sure that you were still going about your routine.

Because Jake is a cop, he would do everything to make sure that you were safe and I do mean everything.

Jake is so concerned about your safety, that you wake up in a random glass box in a basement with Jake standing outside of it.

"Hey Babe!" "Jake??? What is going on?" "Oh right the box thingy. Look I know what it looks like and I can assure you it's for your own good."

Whenever he comes to visit you, he would have his gun and badge showing intentionally so you know that you couldn't leave. Even if you tried, he had connections that could bring you back.

He slides you bagels and coffee through a hole in the glass box and watches Die Hard with you

To not arouse suspicion, he brings your case to the precinct and has everyone try to find you.

He really could be an actor the way he acts like you're really missing when in reality, you're chained up in a glass box somewhere in Manhattan.

Jake would drive every day to see you and kiss you through the box.

"Hey, Y/n. So because you've been so good, I'm gonna let you go..." "REALLY???" "Go out of the box for a bit and walk around, God I should've led with that." "Oh. okay" "I know right, yayyyyyy!!"

Tries hard to boost your morale but I mean, he kidnapped you for Christ's Sake!

Despite all of this, he is still charming and you start to develop Stockholm syndrome.

Jake decides that he wants to marry you so he gets ordained online and proposes to you and you say yes.

It was a crappy ceremony but cute.

He begins to let you sleep in his apartment(windows and everything boarded up) and Jake becomes "the perfect husband"

Eventually, you give up and succumb to him and your case goes cold.

[sonofarathorn]

Warmth

Pairing: M’Baku x Wakandan!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k 

Warnings: Fem!Reader. Black!Reader. Smut (18+). Unprotected Sex. Fingering. Dirty Talk. Fluff. 

Summary: Soft morning sex with M’Baku to keep warm. That’s it. That’s the whole fic. 

A/N: Nothing but respect for my king. Hope you all enjoy this smutty fantasy. It’s my first time writing for M’Baku, so I’m a little nervous. I also edited this in like 10 minutes, so all mistakes are my own. 

M’Baku is warm in the mornings. Especially compared to the cold air of the bedroom that surrounds you. 

Being from the River Tribe yourself, you’re still getting used to the permafrost that covers every inch of the Jabari lands. Harsh and unforgiving, it sinks into your skin, and settles deep into your bones. The cold nights and even colder mornings are jarring. And though you probably won’t mention it out loud, though you’re sure your perceptive husband already knows, the endless peaks of snowy mountains sometimes make you miss the warm, flat soil of your old valley home. 

Still, you wouldn’t trade your love for M’Baku for all the endless summers in the world. Even when your toes and fingers feel stiff and frozen, and you never think you’ll be warm again. 

Pale sunlight filters through the skylight above your bed, splintering on the glass and refracting on the walls in little swatches of rainbow. Though it gently strokes your skin, it’s weak and hardly warms you. It does, however, illuminate the hulking form of your husband. Not that the king needs the feeble rays to announce his presence, his snoring does that for him. 

You stretch, stirring your heavy limbs. A bad idea. Freezing air infiltrates the warm nest of furs piled on top of you. You shiver, and your body stiffens in protest. You curse under your breath, the chattering of teeth accompanying the colorful language. 

Bast only knows how the Jabari first survived this all those years ago, with only their hard heads and proud hearts to keep them warm. 

“You would keep the heat in if you stopped moving,” M’Baku mumbles sleepily. You can hear the amusement in his voice, warm and rich like chocolate. “Go back to sleep.” 

You huff under your breath. “I can’t.” You flex your toes, feeling the twist of soft fur. “It’s too cold.” 

M’Baku rolls onto his stomach and wordlessly lifts his arm. You slide into his embrace thankfully. He settles above you, a furnace in his own right. With his weight on top of you and his dewy breath in your ear, you almost allow yourself to sink deep into the syrupy waves of unconsciousness. That is, until your husband decides to open his mouth. 

“How is that?” He asks, body rumbling with the deep vibration of his voice. 

“Better,” you mumble, sleeping tugging heavy on your eyelids. 

“You know, this would be much easier if you were naked,” M’Baku whispers in your ear, voice raspy from the last fading traces of sleep.  

You can’t help the shudder that goes down your spine. “I doubt that.” You try to keep your tone even, but you suspect your husband heard the slight hitch in your voice from the grin pressed against your cheek. 

“No, no. Skin to skin is very effective,” he insists, one large hand sliding under the bottom of your nightgown. 

The corners of your lips tug upwards. “And how would you know that, Lord M’Baku? Who have you kept warm with this, hm, skin to skin method?” 

M’Baku clears his throat. “I’ve heard about it. The, uh soldiers…they talk.” He kisses the skin behind your ear. “Shall we give it a try? Hm, ikumkani wam?” He slips one of the straps from your shoulder and presses a kiss there as well. The scrape of his beard against your skin has your mind slipping to other things, though you’re sure M’Baku’s mind has wandered there as well. 

“And if I’m still cold afterwards?” You ask, the words saccharine and coy, dripping off of your tongue like honey.

He lifts his head so you can see the glimmer in the depths of his dark eyes. “Then I suppose we would have to try a different tactic.” 

You sit up to let him pull the nightgown over your head and fall back against the soft bed. M’Baku’s eyes roam over the soft curves of your body, lit by the gentle sunlight. Your skin looks like honeyed whiskey. Like onyx glinting at noon. Polished mahogany and clay. He drinks you in, and you do the same. 

Your gaze sliding over the rounded peaks of his shoulders. Down the expanse of his chest to his belly, and then dipping further still. To the hard flesh of his cock, stiff against your inner thigh. 

M’Baku likes to sleep naked. The way Hanuman intended, he says, and you’re not complaining. It gives you easy access. Easy access for your eyes to gawk at him. To appreciate the way his shoulders roll when he stretches. Easy access for your fingers to skim over his soft skin. To feel the heat of his body pressed tightly against yours.  

Easy access to do other things, like slide your hand down his stomach and wrap around his cock. 

“What are you doing, my love?” He murmurs, eyelids sliding shut. 

“Keeping you warm.” 

“Mm, I thought that was supposed to be my job.” 

You look up at him, a smile growing on your face. “Then come keep me warm, my king.” 

M’Baku lowers himself over you with a short snort of laughter. “Yes, ikumkani wam.” 

His lips meet yours, slow and sweet at first. Bringing a warmth that unfurls in your belly like the comfort of the first sip of tea. The rich, sharp taste of wine after a long day. His warrior’s hands are gentle on your body, calloused fingertips skimming over your jaw. Tilting your head to the side so he can kiss you deeper, press his tongue into the seam of your mouth. 

And then the kiss grows faster, heated. The press of his lips more insistent. The warmth of his tongue fills you, eagerly tasting each and every moan that bubbles up from your throat. The press of his fingers hard against your skin. Stripping you down, squeezing and pulling you closer. A hand over your breast, palm scraping your nipple. The other gripping your thigh, using it for leverage to rut against your stomach. 

You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, and let M’Baku press you deeper into the bed. 

His lips leave yours and carve a path over your body. Down your throat. Across your shoulder. Over the peaks of your breasts, with a detour to suck on your puckered nipples. His tongue laves over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and wetness pooling between your thighs. 

M’Baku fits his hand between your legs, and plays with your folds. “Glory to Hanuman,” he breathes against your chest. “An offering all for me?” His fingers swirl around your clit, then dip to press against your entrance. 

You arch your back, legs spreading of their own accord. An invitation. One he accepts willingly. 

He slides a finger into your cunt, breaking you open for him. You mewl, a heady warmth sliding through you at the slow press of his fingers. His name falls off of your lips. A quiet puff of air in the vast expanse of the room. 

M’Baku curls his finger, fucking you open in broad strokes. His thumb circles your clit at a leisurely pace. He’s in no hurry. Content to watch you twitch and shudder under his touch. To behold the display of hedonism splayed out across furs and cotton. He would much rather pass the day with you, tangled in the sheets. Taking his time to unravel you bit by bit, over and over again. 

Let the council wait. They couldn’t do anything without him.

He is king, after all. And as king, his job was to take care of his queen. 

“Are you feeling warm yet, my love?” Your husband asks, sliding a second finger inside of you.  

The burn of the stretch is intoxicating. In no time, you feel as though you are floating on clouds. Ascending to the heavens. 

You want more. You need more. You need him. His weight on top of you. His cock inside of you. Pushing and pushing, taking and taking. Giving until you’re spent. 

“I’m still a little cold,” you say, and though you try to play it coy, the desire is embarrassingly clear in your voice. 

M’Baku chuckles. “Well, we cannot have that, can we?” He asks. “How should I warm you?”

“Make love to me, M’Baku” you whisper, wrapping your hand around his cock again. You guide him towards the wanting warmth of your cunt. 

“Mm. Yes, my queen.” M’Baku spreads your legs wider and situates himself between your thighs.

His lips brush over yours as he thrusts forward, letting the head of his cock slide against your clit. He groans at the warmth of you coating his aching cock; the soft skin of your thighs caging him in, urging him closer. His hips roll forward again, and again, and again, until he’s completely covered in you. 

You sigh against his parted mouth, lifting your hips up to meet his next thrust. “Please,” you beg. You long to feel him move inside you. To be joined, one body, one soul. 

M’Baku shushes you, his hand sliding down  your stomach. He holds you in place as he fills you with one slow stroke. 

Your jaw drops, and you choke at the sensation. So full. Of love. Of him. The air in your lungs exits in a pitiful whine as M’Baku pushes into you completely. You scratch at his shoulders, scrabbling to pull him closer. 

M’Baku moans, low and gravelly, as the warmth of your cunt envelopes him. The hand not holding you still fists into the pillow beside your head. An anchor keeping him present. Keeping him contained. He curses quietly, eyes screwing shut. 

“Bast,” you pant. “You feel so good inside me, kumkani wam.” 

M’Baku’s hips snap forward at the sound of his official title falling from your lips. “Be careful, my love, or this will be over much sooner than we’d want.”

“I don’t care.” You grab his hip, trying to urge him forward. “I want you. All of you.” 

He kisses your chin, but doesn’t budge. “And I want you.” 

“Then take me.” You grind your own hips upwards, desperate for some kind of friction. “I’m yours.”

“Relax, my love.” M’Baku draws his hips backwards. “I will take care of you.”

And take care of you he does. His thrusts, though languid at first, are hard and deep. They would have pushed you up the bed if your lover hadn’t been holding you in place. M’Baku curls his body over you, pinning you down so that all you can do is take all that he gives. And he gives so much. 

He is all around you. Warm like the summer rains of your homeland. His lips caressing your skin. Sweeping down your neck and across your shoulders. His skin pressed against yours. Heat burrowing its way into your skin. Magma settling low in your stomach, spreading into your veins, bursting on the tip of your tongue. His body rolls against yours like ocean waves. Threatening to capsize you. To drown you. 

M’Baku is grinding now, just the way you like it. He hooks his arm under your leg. Spreading you apart so his hips can brush your clit with every thrust. Now the fire burns over your skin. Leaving uncontrollable decimation in its wake.  

You cry out, nails scratching against his arms, and M’Baku smiles. 

“There you are.” He kisses you messily. “Is this what you wanted, my queen?” 

You nod. “Don’t stop.” 

“Oh, I won’t stop, my love.” His hips speed up a little. “Not when you’re so close. I want to watch you fall apart on my cock. I want all of Jabari Land, all of Wakanda, to know how their king pleasures his queen. Will you tell them, my love? Hm? Will you shout my name for all to hear?” 

“Yes. Oh yes. Just–ah– just don’t stop. I’m going to come.” You arch into his touch, your orgasm so maddeningly close. 

“Show me,” he murmurs, lifting your leg higher to change the angle, and it’s all over.

Light bursts behind your eyelids. Static fills your senses. You come with a broken wail, sharp cries of fuckfuckfuck and M’Baku and kumkani wam filling the air. M’Baku fucks you through your orgasm steadily, not stopping, even when the peak of your first crests into a smaller, but still earth-shattering, second. 

His voice fills your ear. Gentle praises of how beautiful you are when you come, of how good your cunt feels squeezing around him. Filthy promises of his own impending orgasm– to fill you up until you were dripping, to keep it there inside of you, to watch it slide onto the sheets, and to fuck it back inside of you. 

“I want it,” you say desperately. “I want all of it. Please, M’Baku. I want to feel you inside of me.” 

M’Baku groans, fingers digging into your thigh. He kisses you deeply, burying his own strangled cry in your mouth. His hips stutter, hard thrusts growing sloppy. He can only grunt out a warning before he’s spilling his warmth inside of you. 

It feels never ending. Your body seizes, legs wrapping around his waist to hold him there. M’Baku rocks against you, riding out the wave of his orgasm. His lips brush your cheek, muttering nonsensical phrases against your skin. He sags on top of you, holding you close as your heartbeats return to normal. 

“Do you think they heard us?” M’Baku grins sheepishly. 

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” You tease, limbs relaxing as the world begins to fade around you. 

“Mmm,” he answers. “How are you, my love? Do you think you could sleep now?” 

You nod weakly. Exhaustion already tugs heavily at your eyelids. Between the sex and the comforting weight of his body, you could be out in mere seconds. 

“Good,” he whispers. “Sleep. And when you wake I promise I will be ready to make love to you again.” 

“What about your council meeting?” You ask. “Your duties as king?” 

“My duty as king is to keep you happy and warm.” He yawns, and rests his chin against the top of your head. “The council will just have to wait until we are done.” He says, sleep already lacing into the edges of his voice.  

M’Baku makes good on his word when you awake some few hours later. Several times, in fact.  

He is king after all. And a good king always keeps his promises.

Comments/Reblogs are greatly appreciated. 

Tags: @flightlessangelwings​ @luxuryberzatto​