#Which I usually do not care for at all in metal but it's such a brief segment that somehow it works

[starseungs]

to love you like the snow melts. ksm.

kim seungmin x gn!reader — if seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring.

GENRE/S — fluff, maybe kinda emotional (or is that just me), slight college au mentioned in passing, he fell first trope • 1.1k words

WARNING/S — nothing really unless you're not into lovesick pining, story told in seungmin's pov, slightly unedited cz idk

( ✒️ ) happy seungmin day !! i think i dissociated while writing this fic cause man... i barely remember shit 😭 i originally had a plan going into writing this but it just got thrown out the window by my brain apparently (also this fic is inspired by one of the results in this quiz cause i loved the prompt i got so much) this fic is a bit short but i hope yall like it <3

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

Seungmin’s eyes love to rest on you. 

That was an undoubtable fact in his life—one that he, himself, doesn’t even know how it started. Yet, the acknowledgement of this unknown didn’t bother him at all. If anything, it was a source of comfort for him; a way of reminding himself of the joy in living. To Seungmin, one thing was for certain: He was given the gift of sight to experience you in your entire beauty.

He first met you in a university lecture, where you simply happened to frequent the seat just a row behind and two chairs away from where he usually sat. Perhaps he was enamored from the very beginning. It was like his gaze would always find a way back to you whenever you were in his immediate vicinity, reminiscent of a magnet longing to cling to metal.

That was also the way he took in your presence as a whole. Seungmin was a man starved for knowledge, desperately clawing for anything he could get to broaden his desired expertise that was you. He particularly loved the way your eyes drooped whenever the lecture of the day bore you, as well as your tendency to make origami on available paper during the times you could care less to listen. The latter always ended up with you blinking endearingly after a successful craft, glancing around the people near you to figure out who to present it to.

Oh, how he wished he had been over there instead, happily receiving a paper star to keep. However, it was your friends that surrounded you on a daily, barely giving you time to be alone. And maybe you didn’t want to be alone—another thing about you that he’d like to discover the truth to. But he thought that until the day he somehow found himself stumbling into your life, he’d have to be grateful to your friends for making you shine the way you deserved every step of the way.

So, imagine his surprise when he finally got the chance to make a mark in the vast expanse of your world.

The opportunity came in the form of a group project with you; the catalyst in which his whole life began to change. Friendly introductions of obligation quickly turned into incessant strings of conversation, bringing the two of you closer. The sheer pace of the development was overwhelming. Seungmin never thought his presence bore enough weight for gravity to grab him by the neck and lock him in the system of the star that was you. 

It was a trip and a half, consisting of countless miles to lap around with seemingly no end. So much, that he feared falling out of your grace—to be like a passing asteroid who foolishly dreamt of becoming a planet. Seungmin was endlessly yearning to solidify his place in your world, just like he always wanted. And still, despite that all, he didn’t show it. He merely laughed when you laughed, stayed silent when you needed silence, and experienced anger on your behalf when you couldn’t show it for yourself. 

Because Kim Seungmin knew that you needed to be loved patiently.

Even throughout the tightrope of uncertainty he walked months on like his life depended on it, he never once made it seem like he was waiting on a move from you. If Seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring. 

Seungmin knew that even with the shows of your cheery demeanor, your heart still remained frosted over from your previous winters. That even when your fingers danced their way to intertwine with his, there was still that moment of hesitation. He was forever thankful that you caught him from falling when he did, refusing to let him disappear into the abyss. Yet, who was lighting up the skies of which you lay under to stare at each day?

He longed to give you a love that was true. One where he showed you how warmth creeped in with small trickles of heat, giving you enough time to decide whether you truly wanted it or not. Love that was considerate in the way that it willingly warned you of its presence, but in a way that cupped your cheeks and sang you lullabies. To love you gently as to not sully your shoes with messy, muddy soil of the ground peeking out from beneath the snow. 

To Seungmin, there was no greater gift than being able to be the sign of your spring.

“Baby?” You called out to him softly, a flash of concern twinkling behind your gaze. “Is anything wrong?”

Seungmin feels like he was just coaxed out of a trance, previously being too occupied studying the details of you at the moment, as if he hadn’t already spent the past hour doing just that. A string of golden celebration banners made its presence known in the corner of his eye, briefly acknowledging the once-a-year greeting printed on them. The slight smell of smoke fully brought him back to his senses, finally glancing down towards the cake with a small lit-up candle you were presenting him.

Right. It was his birthday today.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No,” he replies truthfully. “Everything is perfect.” Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, having trouble making sense of the situation. Seungmin has half a mind to think if you would forgive him if he tried to straighten it out with his thumbs as a tease.

“But, you’re not blowing out your candles,” you purse your lips in contemplation. He feels an unstoppable force creeping up to turn the corners of his mouth upwards. Did you even know just how much he loves you?

“I was just enjoying the view, that’s all.”

Your demeanor visibly brightens up. “Is the cake that pretty?” Was your smug question, clearly feeling proud of yourself. “I worked hard on that, you know?” 

Seungmin only smiles. Like he always does whenever it concerns you. That warm boyish grin he had paired with a certain fond look in his eyes that his friends never failed to point out just to fluster him into oblivion. But he lets them anyway. There was no way he could ever deny the truth of how strongly he felt for you.

“I know.” 

Because he always does. 

And as he leaned forward to feel the last heat of the flickering candle before it went out, he couldn’t help but think that the snow had finally melted. His wish had already come true.

“Happy birthday, Seungmin!”

Spring has come.

MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung @thecutiepieme @yaniiiiism

[balkanradfem]

Okay so I know I just hit you all with the controversial chestnut poll, but I have some new development in life that I want to complain about, and in order for me to complain about it, I need to give you the context.

I don't particularly want to give you the context. You're going to diagnose me with female socialization, and some of you will feel the urge to click the anonymous ask button and tell me off. Today I need you to fight that urge! I am feeling insecure, I am feeling lost, I'm not certain in my choices, I've acted without thinking, and got myself into a situation I can't control. So please don't be mean to me. I deserve to complain on the internet and not be called out, alright?

So this is the story of how I accidentally became a live-in caretaker for an injured, elderly woman. It's temporary! She'll get better, hopefully.

I worked for her occasionally, and she's always been kind to me. She would give me a little jar of jam sometimes, and I love little jars of jam, it's a way to win my heart. A few days ago, she called me in a panic, telling me she fell, and she needs my help. I came over, and found out she broke her arm in two places, and one of her rib is broken. She fell unconscious, after being dizzy all day, and fell on a big metal lantern, breaking it. She was now in so much pain she couldn't get up by herself, dress herself, or do any kind of household tasks. She went to the ER, got her arm wrapped up, and was trying to get a pain injection. I helped her get trough the day, and promised to come early next morning, to help her up from the bed.

Next day I found her in tears in her bed, unable to get up, desperate to go to the bathroom. It became clear she needed 24/7 assistance, and she asked me if I would move in until she got better. I said yes without thinking, because I was at this point, severely concerned, and wanted to do anything to help her out.

So this is all not so bad, right, I'm being normal, it's normal to offer help to an injured elderly woman who is nice, but there's a catch. She doesn't live alone. She lives with her older husband. Who is also disabled and can't help her at all. So in order to help her out.. I had to move into a place where a male lives. That is the worst part of this.

I'm still in the first few days of living like this, and my own life had to fall to the background. I can't go foraging for chestnuts every day, I can't go to my garden as much, I'm still going to work, just from her place. I'm overwhelmed and struggling to get used to the new situation. I'm not used to being around people at all, and now I'm forced to socialize almost all day. Caring for someone comes fairly natural! I'm already so in sync with her, she can just look in the certain direction and I know what she wants me to do. I've figured out where everything is in her kitchen, closet, and basement. She's pleased that I know how to do basic household tasks, and am willing to do it in her way. And she's nice, she's telling me things like 'thank you' and 'what would I do without you', which feels good. But I am very exhausted and sleep deprived, she wakes me up at 1am, and then 5am again, and I'm unable to fall back asleep in a room I lack familiarity with. I miss my room.

She and her husband said they were going to pay me, and in my natural ways, I said something like 'no you don't need to' which I feel like everyone will get mad at me for, but they did insist they would pay me anyway. I as usual lack the sense to care about money – someone's arm is broken, that's way more serious issue to me!

Alright so now to the part of the post I wanted to write, a fun poll where you guess, what has her awful husband done by this point :) go ahead and guess!

You have one day to guess! Which one of these scenarios happened in the first few days of his wife breaking three bones in her body. I'll tell you the correct option tomorrow!

[milkweedman]

ah, the ever-more-frequent Urge To Explode My Brain from unending migraines. a migraine that just lasts the day already sucks so bad. whole day is gone in a blur of pain and misery, right ? a migraine that lasts multiple days is sort of like if hell was real and you were in it. time has no meaning, only pain, etc.

months of migraines... with no break or end or effective treatment and also you still have to work and behave like a normal person because you cannot lie in bed for months not paying rent. well id describe it you but ive fucking lost the plot. its gone on so long and its so bad that when the migraine ISN'T at its peaking on the pain scale and making me feel like if i was hit by a truck that would be an improvement, i start to feel like my head is a vestigial organ that has been removed. cant access sensation in my head and it feels literally disconnected from my body. meanwhile the pain is still there (along with the brain fog, vertigo, nausea, etc) but it feels like its happening to somebody else.

[solradguy]

This is deathcore so if you're usually into the 1980s heavy metal I post you won't like this, maybe, but it pokes around with the deathcore genre in such refreshing ways. It's been in my daily album rotation for about a week now.

[tired-biscuit]

Logan would probably moan like he’s having the best sex of his life from just a shoulder massage. Do you think he’d deny he needs one? Or would you catch him off guard while he’s asleep?

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: friends to lovers, unexpected mutual pining, logan realises he’s touch-starved after you offer to give him a backrub, and you both get turned on by it.

divider credit: div1nepetal

what if you’re, like… his friend, who’s grown to care deeply about him over the years and wants nothing else but to help him out a little from time to time in simpler, more ‘humanly’ ways because of said caring?

i mean, he’s got super fast healing and all that jazz, sure, however that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get sore and thus — unbearably — cranky about it… and since you’ve known each other for so long, you’ve also gotten quite comfortable in each other’s company! so it wouldn’t be that odd if you were to offer to relieve the pain in your friend’s back when he swings by your place one random evening… right?

it’s really just to make him feel better, nothing else! because as soon as he flings himself onto his favoured spot on your worn out couch (a dent that he fucking made with the help of his heavy adamantium ass), you catch him repetitively stretching his neck from side to side and rolling his shoulders every so often with a furrowed brow and a tight-lipped expression that somehow manages to appear even grumpier than his usual neutral.

you steal glances because of it. listen intently to the laboured sighs he keeps letting out. and after leering at him and his struggles from the corner of your eye for a little while, not at all paying attention to the movie that you’re supposed to be watching with him, you finally succumb. you turn to the side and propose your offer whilst wiggling your magic fingers, as you like to call them, right in front of his face, and logan, as is expected, denies it by gently swatting your hand away.

taking over pretty much the entire space on the couch from how he’s manspreading, he doesn’t even peel his eyes from the television that — unlike you — he’s actually watching when he tells you that, “you don’t gotta worry about it” and that it’s not that bad, then. for some reason, he even feels the need to add that he can handle himself just fine.

it all makes your eyes roll.

and instead of listening, you rather choose to persist. he’s a wall whenever he makes up his mind on something, you know this, but you also know that if you nag him and scold him for long enough, prodding and picking at the cracks between phantom bricks, he’ll have no choice but to give in and give you what you want just to make you stop… though not without adding a snide comment or two himself during it because he can’t help but act like a dick sometimes around the people he’s fond of, it’s just the way he is!

as you tell him to scooch over and lay on his stomach, you feel just a little bit bad that you had to resort to annoying him in order to being allowed to help him. however, the guilt isn’t nearly as strong as is the sense of victory that you’ve just achieved, so you allow it to curl the corners of your lips into a satisfied, cat-like smile while you busy yourself by straddling the small of his back. he can’t see your face anyway, so what’s the issue?

meanwhile, logan lets out a tired exhale, smushing one cheek against the decorative pillow that he’s folded his arms under so that he can still watch the tv while you work your supposed magic. he listens to your sheepish apology and request to tell you if you’re too heavy, to which he responds by calling it nonsense and that you’re insulting him by thinking you’re heavy whilst sitting on top of a guy who’s literally filled with metal.

and filled with metal he is, indeed! it’s not long before you realize just how much freaking pressure you have to apply to his shoulders and back in order to make him feel something. how much physical strength you have to put into it, to the point that you’re nearly sweating because of it. popping a bone in order to ease some of the tension is literally impossible, so you aim your focus onto the taut cords of muscle instead.

you can see them even through the thin white shirt that he’s wearing — they’re that profound. flexed and attractive, attained with hard work. but they become even more visible when he reluctantly lets you roll the hem of his shirt up towards the collar, unfolding his arms just so that he can lift the upper half of his body, and you right along with him, with no visible effort whatsoever.

the air in the room shifts a little after that; it gets kind of tense. because all of a sudden, you’re skin to skin. his should be covered in scars, but he’s lucky enough to have them all healed and smoothed away by his power. and while he may not be able to feel relief in his adamantium-covered bones, he sure as hell can feel the warmth of your palms running down the slopes of his broad shoulders, the grazing of your nails that nearly makes him shiver when they reach a particularly ticklish part on the nape of his neck, the heat between your legs as you continue to sit on him, dressed in nothing else but a pair of comfortable and tiny shorts…

forcing himself to be a loner, logan isn’t used to being touched like this all that much, and it makes him sensitive. and as a result, he can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut and groan in absolute pleasure when you readjust by wiggling your hips on top of him and lean in super close to really dig your fingers into his strong back.

you pause at the sound; he can hear your breathing hitch a little before it continues to fan his shoulder blade. he’s already halfway on opening his mouth to say something in order to avoid things from getting too awkward even if he’s not the kind of man who minds if they do, when all of a sudden it hits him.

it’s barely there, just the faintest whiff of something sticky and sweet. it would be impossible to catch by a normal human, but he isn’t a normal human, now is he? no, he’s a mutant — a primal one, at that — and because of it, his nose is more than capable of catching a scent like this.

you’re… aroused. have gotten turned on by the sound he just made. are getting wetter between the legs by the second. and he can smell it.

fuck.

logan chooses not to say anything even if the pheromones that he’s steadily inhaling now are making his blood grow feverish to dangerous levels. meanwhile, you choose to remain quiet as well, simply continuing your ministrations as if nothing has happened.

something that does change, however, is the way you touch him. from that hiccup onward, you get more, should you say, intimate with it; even daring to comb your fingers through his rich, dark hair at some point and experimentally tugging at the roots, making him actually shiver this time.

he doesn’t just shiver, though. the action is so freaking good that it also causes his eyes to roll into the back of his head — he silently prays that he’s managed to squeeze them shut for a second time before you could catch it.

and that’s not all there is to it either. by now, his cock has become painfully hard in his pants. thick, hot and leaking pre-cum from how excited he’s getting. it makes laying down on his stomach extremely uncomfortable, but he thinks it’s better to suffer through it than enabling you to see what you’re doing to him both physically and mentally.

mind fogged by a mixture of your and now his own lust, he’s getting so horny that all he wants to do is rut into the couch while you continue to touch him. he doesn’t, of course, he’s been around for over two centuries so he’s pretty good at restraining himself, however that doesn’t mean that he likes doing it.

so he remains decent… well, somewhat. he pants a little bit, and he grunts and curses under his breath in a way that makes him sound like he’s balls deep in your cunt, folding you in a mating press and pounding away until you’re nothing but a whiny mess and his cum is trickling down your thighs, but he still tries his very best.

by the time you pat him on the shoulders and tell him you’ve finished, he fears he did, too.

[clockwayswrites]

5 Times the JL Learned Batman was Married and the 1 Time They Met the Spouse.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. + 1

“What is going on?” Batman asked the group as he swept into the room.

John stayed focused on the circle, not wanting to mess up now. It would be a lot of faff for nothing if he did.

“Constantine believes he has a contact to help us with our current issue,” Superman explained. “He is working on the summoning circle now.”

“Is that safe to do on the Watchtower?” Batman asked, as cautious as ever.

“Yeah, mate,” John answered for himself. “This one is a good one. Haven’t met them myself, but real helpful sort of fellow from everything I’ve heard. Or at least real helpful for the things that they can help with.”

Careful not to smudge any lines, John moved backwards out of the circle and gave it a good look over. The rest of the lot were talking about something, but if Batman hadn’t stopped him yet, John figured he was good and intended to keep working. A little slice to his finger, a few drops of blood, the right words, and it was done.

The white markings of the circle seemed to shudder and warp, like the lines on a desert street. Then they snapped a bright green and the inner lines seemed to fall away into an endless void. The void rippled and suddenly a hand reached out of it. The claws made the worst sound as they gripped into the metal floor.

Another hand joined it.

And then the being pulled themselves out of the summoning circle.

John knew better than to try and comprehend what he was seeing. It was all shadow and green flames and fear anyways.

“Who dares to call upon the Ghost King?” the being asked. The voice echoed through the room, through John’s head, through his soul. It sounded like a thousand screaming voices of the dead speaking all at once.

Toxic green eyes in the black mass swept over the group. It was like they were being seen; their souls, their very beings, every aspect of them flayed open and on display for this other worldly entity. John swallowed reflexively when the eyes paused on him for a moment. He wasn’t scared, but there was still a primal part of his brain that said he should run.

Then the gaze landed on Batman and stayed there. Superman stepped forward, slightly, as if to shield Batman from the being’s view.

The being didn’t seem to care and leaned forward up to the edge of the circle. “B?”

Batman inclined his head slightly, “Phantom.”

“Shit. This Justice League approved, huh? Sorry about the dramatics. Usually I only get summoned by cultists who want Pariah Dark, the old king, to give them power or cleanse the world of life or blah blah blah. Best to show up and put the fear of me into them,” the being said, motioning to themselves and all their horror. The reverb of their voice had settled some, now only like a few voices overlapping.

“Understandable,” Batman agreed, seemingly unaffected by it all.

John could only shrug incredulously at Superman’s questioning gaze. Fuck if he knew. Sure, Bats was unflappable, but everyone knew he avoided the supernatural stuff if he could.

The being pulled the last of itself out of the portal which sealed with a sickening squelch. “You could have just called though. Like, I get summoning is a quick way to travel, but it's a little painful."

“Painful?” Batman asked, turning to stare at John, who swallowed nervously at the cold tone.

“Yeah. This was a pretty clean circle though, props to the maker—”

“Thanks, I think?” John mumbled at he watched the being start to shift. It was like watching a black hole collapse in on itself.

“—so it's not that bad, but still it feels like ripping some duct tape off my skin or something,” the being continued. They were much more human shaped now, though they still smiled with an alarming number of very white teeth.

“We'll keep that in mind in the future. I was unaware of who, exactly, they were summoning.”

The rest of the roiling darkness settled on their shoulders like a half cape— one that seemed to hold the infinity of the night sky inside it. The vortex of flames settled into a crown of fire that floated above a head of stark white hair. They flexed their claws and the limbs settled into normal hands that they tucked into pockets of their three piece black suit with its sharp white accents. Then they stepped over the live of what was supposed to be an unbreakable summoning circle.

Like it was just waking through a door.

Like it was nothing.

John took a reflexive step back. This kind of rule breaking shit was exactly why he liked to avoid the Infinite Realms when he could; they were too chaotic to easily manage.

“All good,” they said with a shrug and a fanged smile. “So, what did you need the Ghost King for?”

-

Bruce watched Phantom scan the meeting room as they entered. Their eyes caught, just for a moment, and a million thoughts ran through Bruce’s head. Did he want to do this? Was it time? He trusted the Justice League. They had issues and conflicts, like any group, but they were heroes through and through.

Revealing this also did not mean revealing either of their civilian identities.

The nod was barely any movement at all, but Bruce knew that Phantom had caught it and understood. After so many years together, they hardly needed words, which Bruce often appreciated. Words had never been easy for Bruce. He worked on it for his family. He had to after…

Bruce forced himself not to think about that. Danny had saved Jason, even if the resulting years without Danny there were some of the hardest for the family. They were together again and better for it. Bruce let out a careful breath and took his normal seat.

“Thank you for your assistance, King Phantom,” Wonder Woman started. Phantom held up a hand.

“I didn’t say I could assist. I’ll listen and help if I can and see fit, but there are a great many things that are not mine to aid in,” Phantom said sternly, though his voice was carefully kind. “My influence is only over those closely tied to death and of the Infinite Realms. The living are outside of my jurisdiction.”

“Of course,” Superman said quickly as he could without rushing the words. “Listening is a great start. If you’ll take a seat.”

Phantom nodded and strode right past the indicated seat. With a casual ease that Bruce had always envied, Phantom sat on the arm of Bruce’s chair.

“Um, King Phantom, your majesty?” Flash started nervously. “Batman doesn’t really like to be touched?”

“Really?” Phantom asked innocently. Bruce couldn’t see it, but knew exactly the smirk Phantom had as he leaned back to lounge against Bruce’s shoulder. (Bruce loved that smile.)

Bruce schooled his expression as he watched Flash and Hal exchange looks and frantic hand signs to each other.

J’onn tilted his head curiously as he took his own seat. Bruce could see J’onn come to an understanding as his eyes flickered down the the black metal brand around Phantom’s ring finger in the shape of a flying bat.

“Ah,” J’onn said softly.

“Ah? Ah what?” Flash asked, his words almost a whine. “What do you know?”

Bruce rested his hand lightly on Phantom’s hip, well aware that the motion was in sight of both Superman and Wonder Woman.

“Ah,” Wonder Woman said with a little smile. “J’onn knows something we all know, though not in this context. It is good to meet you, Phantom.”

“Good to meet you also, Wonder Woman. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Phantom said as she sat down next to them.

“I wish I could say the same,” she said with a teasing smile directed Bruce’s way.

“Hn.”

Phantom just laughed, the sound echoing like a ringing bell. “It’s okay, I know what B is like. Trust me, that you know anything at all is a big deal. He’s just bad at doing things the normal way.”

Bruce held back a sigh and just pinched Phantom’s side again, making the other squeak and backhand Bruce in the chest.

“Holy shit!” Hal jutted a finger at Phantom. “You’re Batman’s husband!”

“Guilty as charged,” Phantom said.

“Wait, no, you’re what?” Flash asked and zipped closer to the table. “Huh. You are so not what I expected. I mean, I guess ghost plus Spooky works but you’re so… lively! Wait— is that like, offensive to call the dead lively?”

Phantom laughed again and shook his head. “No, but not everyone in the realms will take it as a compliment. I don’t mind and besides, I’m only half-dead.”

“Half-dead?” Superman asked with his brow furrowed worriedly.

Phantom just waved the concern away. “It’s complicated. Mostly it just means that I still get to live out my human life as simply a human. Ghosts move slower, having eternity and all, so there’s not too much for me to do as the king other than attend to summons and make slow changes.”

“So,” Hal started, ignoring Bruce’s glare and sliding into a seat finally. “You’re married to Batman in your civilian form as well?”

“Of course, it would be silly otherwise,” Phantom said and then added, “and no, I won’t tell you who B is. That’s for him to choose.”

“Okay, but like, we can talk to you, right?” Flash asked, eager as ever.

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I? But work first. What do you think I can help you all with?”

Bruce moved his hand to rest on the small of Phantom’s back and watched his husband command the room like the king he was.

--- AN: and here's the last part! The JL finally meet Batman's husband, or at least once side of him!

[mrsbarnesblog]

Hi!! I love your work, if your ok with it can you do Sub! Rafe?? He basically just lets the reader top him but he starts getting all subby on her and cries bc of how good it feels.

masterlist ko-fi ao3

requests are open

word count: 2.1k.

warnings: smut, sub Rafe, p in v, blow job, unprotected sex, tying up, multiple orgasms, creampie

a/n: let's fucking gooo. I have been WAITING for someone to ask me to write this because I love, love, love subby Rafe. so thank you for the request and hope you'll like this one😘

“Just let me try it one time, please.” You looked up at your boyfriend and gave him the best puppy eyes, knowing that no matter how much he refused, he could never tell you no. “You’ll like it, and if you don't, you can just say a word and I’ll stop.” 

“I won’t like it.” Rafe grumbled, rubbing his forehead in frustration. You were asking him to let you be on top, to control everything, and especially him, for the first time. He was scared to let someone do that to him, but at the same time, the smallest part of him craved it crazily. “But we can try.”

You squeaked in happiness, then reached up to hold the back of Rafe’s neck to bring him into the heated kiss. The atmosphere in the room quickly shifted when you started moaning into each other's mouths, with hands gripping whatever body part they could find. 

You slowly bucked Rafe closer to the bed, then pushed him back on the plush blanket. He grumbled again, but still obediently moved up and was laid back on the pillow, clearly waiting for you. 

With a teasing smile on your face, you took his leather belt off the floor and straddled him. “Gimme your hands.” You lowered your body, giving Rafe a quick peck on the lips, and started fixating his hands to the metal headboard. 

The position that you were in gave Rafe an amazing look at your tits, which were spilling out of your bra behind your silk robe. He licked his lips, at that moment not even caring about anything else; his eyes were too focused on your body right in front of his face. 

You pulled back, making sure that his hands were secure and he couldn’t free himself without your notice, then took a second to admire your boyfriend. Rafe was now all yours, laying under you without a shirt on and only in your favorite gray sweatpants. Your eyes trailed down his body, gawking at his shoulders, biceps, chest and abs. Just looking at it made you go into a spiral. 

“Now… I’m going to do everything that you always do with me, and if you’re being good, you’ll get a reward.” You tilted your head to the side playfully, your nails scratching his toned skin from his neck down to the belly button, feeling the way muscles twitched under your fingers. 

Rafe wasn’t fully listening to you, to be honest. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, the image of you sitting on top of him, your robe high on your thighs and almost exposing your boobs, was making him painfully hard. 

“Take it off. I need to see you.” He demanded as usual, already feeling agitated with the way he couldn’t take control of everything like he used to. 

“You’re not giving orders right now. Ask nicely and I’ll think about it.” Rafe's hands moved unconsciously as he tried to touch you, but the belt stopped him. You smirked, leaning lower until your lips were right above his chest. You kissed his heated skin while looking him in the eyes, moving lower and lower until you reached the hem of his sweatpants. 

“Baby, please.” He breathed out desperately. 

Not giving in, you trailed your nail right above his pants, making his hips twitch upwards in search of more contact. 

“You said you wouldn't like it, hm?” You arched an eyebrow, pointing to the very obvious bulge. Rafe huffed and his face was slightly flashed. He was too stubborn to admit it, but seeing the actual reaction of his body was everything you needed to know. “Ask me politely, Rafe.” 

“Touch me.” He breathed out, closing his eyes, and once again tested the belt’s hold on his hands. “Please. I need it.” 

“Mhm, so you can be nice?” Sliding your fingers under the waistband, you finally pulled his pants and boxers down his legs. His cock, painfully hard and with a leaking tip, bounced against his lower abdomen and you couldn’t help but wrap your hand around it. 

Rafe moaned at your touch, throwing his head back against the pillow and then biting on the flesh of his stretched-out bicep. The next thing he felt was your soft tongue licking him from the bottom up, focusing and swirling around his swollen head. 

“Fuck! Shit—don't tease me like this, baby.” With parted lips and hooded eyes, he looked down at you, and the image alone of you standing on your hands and knees with his cock in your mouth could send him into space. Maintaining eye contact, you used your tongue exactly like you knew he liked until Rafe couldn’t hold back anymore and you heard that pretty whining noise. “I’m close—“

As soon as you heard these words, you pulled away, leaving him on the edge and desperate for more. “Oh, I’m sorry, but you’re not getting it that easily.” You finally untangled the silk belt of your robe, letting it freely slide down your arms. Rafe drooled at the sight in front of him, taking in every inch of your exposed skin. 

Never in his life had he wanted something so desperately, like he wanted to touch you right now. It was the sweetest torture to see your perfect body right in front of his hungry eyes but not being able to feel it. 

“I need to touch you. Please, let me do it.” He mumbled, his pupils dilated and his eyes were much darker than before. Rafe pulled his hands again, making metal cling against metal, but you just shook your head. 

“You can only watch; no touching, baby.” You observed the way his eyes got shut tightly, head pushed against the pillow and he huffed, mumbling something incoherent. You’ve never seen Rafe act like this, being so open and emotional, so vulnerable infront of you. The way he needed you made you squeeze your thighs on either side of his body as another wave of arousal washed over you. “I’ll make you feel good.” 

Finally unclipping your bra, you maneuvered to pull your panties down your legs, then returned back on top of Rafe. His cock was placed right next to your pussy, just barely touching your sensitive folds. 

Your hand wrapped around him again, pumping his cock a few times, before slightly moving up and sliding the mushroom head against your pussy lips. 

“Oh fuck—“ Rafe moaned, looking down there with hooded eyes. He was leaking with precum and your movements only made it mix with your wetness and glister on his length. Your mouth slightly opened, moaning too, when his cock finally got caught in your entrance and with one smooth motion, he slipped inside. 

It was euphoric. 

“Oh my god, Rafe! You feel so good inside.” You pressed your hands on Rafe’s abs, testing your ability to move on him without any help. He filled you perfectly, stretching you to the brim and hitting all the right places, making you throw your head back in delight. You moved up, leaving only the tip, and then pushed down with a loud slap of the skin. 

“No-no-no, holy shiiit.” It happened before you could register it, but with a few circular motions of your hips, Rafe’s cock twitched inside of you and you felt a familiar, warm feeling inside of you. With your mouth open in shock, you looked down, seeing the evidence of Rafe’s orgasm on your thighs as his cum started sliding down around his cock. Then you looked back at him seeing even more flushed cheeks and glossy eyes. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t stop myself—“ 

During the whole time that you were dating, Rafe had never finished before you, always dragging a few orgasms out of you, not to mention that it had never happened that fast. Always so determined to make you feel good, he could hold back for hours, just enjoying teasing you. But thinking that you could pent him up to the point when he couldn’t control his body, made you want to do to him the dirtiest things. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” You soothed him, leaning forward to reach his face and distracting him with a kiss. Your pussy spasmed around his softened cock, making you both moan in each other's mouths. “I need you to give me another one, baby.” You straightened back, teasingly moving your ass in a circle and observing Rafe’s reaction. 

He whined—he literally whined at the overstimulation, trying to move his cock away while at the same time craving more. The headboard squeaked under his strong pulls, barely able to restrain Rafe’s desires. He wanted you. He wanted you so fucking badly. To just put his hands on your body, roll you on your back and fuck the living shit out of you. He wanted to make that aching feeling in the pit of his stomach go away, because even though he just came, he needed more and it was killing him. 

“Fuck yourself on me. Use me.” 

“Mmm, you’re so sweet when you’re begging me, Rafey.” You teased, now feeling his fully erect cock giving you so much-needed fullness again. With your hands on his chest, you started bouncing up and down, swirling your hips to drag more moans and groans out of Rafe. “You’re feeling me up exactly the way I need it. Always so good for me, baby. Such a good boy.”

“Y-yeah, I’m good for you, and I need to feel you cumming around me.” You nodded eagerly, quickening your pace. His brows kneaded in concentration and eyes got laser-focused on the place where you two were connected. Seeing his cum, mixed with your wetness, dripping down his shaft and smirging all over yours and his things was more than Rafe could handle. “‘s too much—“ 

“I’m gonna cum. Cum with me, baby. I need to feel how you fill me up again. Can you be good and do that for me?” Your hand reached to Rafe’s face, gripping his jaw until you felt him nod back to you. His eyes suddenly became more reddish, showing off your favorite blues in contrast with tears on his waterline. His lips parted again as he seemingly got closer to his second orgasm. 

You clenched around his cock, slightly moving forward to align your clit with his pelvis to create perfect friction. Your bounces got sloppier and less accurate as the blood-rushing noise in your ears became more and more noticeable. 

You both came almost at the same time, moaning each other’s names in bliss. He shot rope after rope of hot semen up your quivering pussy, encouraging you to keep moving and squeezing him. Your cunt was milking every last drop, as you felt extremely greedy to get everything that you could. 

Looking up, you saw Rafe with tightly shut eyes and tears rolling down his cheeks. He was panting, trying to catch a breath and clenching his fists against the restraints. You fell forward on his sweaty chest, reaching up to unbuckle the belt. 

The second Rafe’s hands were free, he put them on your body, touching, gropping and claiming you again, despite the pain of being in an uncomfortable position for too long. He finally sprawled them on your back, not letting you move even for an inch. 

After spending at least ten minutes in that exact position, with his balls deep in you, and in complete silence, you both couldn’t believe what just happened. When the fog finally cleared out of his brain, Rafe slightly pushed you to lay face-to-face on your sides. 

“What the fuck have you done to me, baby?” He whispered against your skin. “You made me cum like a fucking teenager who had his first sex.”

“I just showed you that you don’t have to always be in charge of everything. I can take care of you too.” You pushed Rafe’s sweaty bangs away, throwing your leg over his hip so it would be more comfortable for him to stay in the warmth of your body. He trembled in your hands, hiding his face in your hair and breathing in your scent.

You knew that he felt vulnerable and exposed at that moment, so you didn’t say anything further, just giving Rafe some comfort with your touch and presence. 

[xiao-come-home]

Even MORE pre-release Boothill. Please bear with me im doing my best,, slightly sug/gestive in one paragraph 🤸‍♀️

I've read somewhere that Boothill short-circuits when he's embarrassed AND I STAND BY IT. 1000%. I am here to spread this like a disease. His system is definitely able to process his emotions, but when you do something that makes his heart skip a beat, he freezes in his spot, his cheeks gain the most beautiful scarlet color... And then you hear the worst combination of malfunctioning robotic noises, AND then sparks fly off of him. Might have to wait a few minutes until he comes back...

Boothill might look like he's calm outside, but he just FEELS the blue screen coming when things get too heated with no break whatsoever or too much fluids go past the protective metal plates. His body stops in place, is absolutely unresponsive, and his eyes flash blue.

Don't worry though, your Boothill has a restart button, right in the middle of his upper back, hidden by his half-vest (or.. whatever that is). He might overheat a little bit though, so be careful not to give yourself unnecessary burns.

In rare cases when his blue screens get REAL bad, you have to stick a USB drive he gave you in those special slots he has on the left side of his hips to bring him back.

Boothill most definitely does not sleep, but gets recharged by electricity or fuel instead. Perhaps that's the reason for the hole he has on his back? Either way, it gives you an opportunity to "plug him up", which he hates, despises even, to hear from you when he feels low on energy (he still wants a goodnight kiss btw).

Boothill swallows bullets. He also spits them out when needed.. usually, he's very careful not to spit them into your mouth when you kiss, but gravity betrays him on his worst days.

Boothill probably works like Siri or Alexa when battles leave him a bit too wounded. You might wonder about something, say it out loud, and then Boothill just can't stop reading the first thing that came up on Google.

"What's the best recipe for carrot cake?"

"2 cups (260g) all-purpose flour, 2 teaspoons baking soda, ½ teaspoon fine sea salt—" Boothill gasps and covers his mouth, "1 ½ teaspoons ground cinnamon, 1 ¼ cups (295ml) vegetable oil, 1 cup (200g) granulated sugar—"

He just can't stop.

[avocado-writing]

hi hi! these prompts are so sweet - could I please send you "did you eat today?" + logan? I feel like he was on his own for so long and probably ate like shit (so might be soft when he’s asked if he’s taking care of himself like this?) 💖 thank you so much! Your request drabbles are all so stunning!

it's been a long while since logan was this looked after.

after everything that happened in the mansion he just didn't think he was a person worth receiving any kind of care, especially self-care. no. a man like him deserved to be punished for what he did, and a bottle to his lips every night was his self-flagelation. the years of alcohol put his body through hell, and food? well. it's been a long time since he ate something which didn't come in a greasy wrapper or needed to be nuked in the microwave.

if he were a normal man, no metal in his bones or healing in his genes, he'd be outright dead. as it stands when wade turned up, mentally and physically, he wasn't in great shape.

that is until he met you.

"did you eat today?" is a question he became accustomed to from your sweet little mouth. a concerned friend of wade's met on a lazy afternoon in the apartment, all smiles and soft edges, brow near-permanently creased in worry as you'd asked him when he'd last had a meal (and the answer was usually too long ago to be satisfactory). then without missing a beat you'd get to work feeding him. stealing eggs from wade and al's kitchen to whip him up an omelette, fixing him a sandwich if needs be, once you made a whole damn pie and sat there watching him devour slice after slice.

in fact, it wasn't long before you just started inviting him over for dinner, and then dinner became dinner dates, and then, well. that became him moving in.

your cooking is exceptional. that isn't just him being kind to the person he's sweet on, it's true. he doesn't know how you can put the same slices of bread together he does yet somehow make them taste like they've come from heaven but you do, day after day. just another little miracle from your never-ending supply of them. even now he's still not certain if he's deserving of your attention, your effort, your time, but you won't hear any pushback from him about it. these things are feely given to him, just like your heart is.

he knows what you really mean when you say "have you eaten today?" you mean, "I love you". you mean, "you're a person who's worth caring about."

he wraps his arms around your waist as you stand at the stovetop stirring a homemade stew. the smell drifts upwards and makes his mouth water, spiced beef and fine-diced vegetables never seeming so good. you laugh as he buries his face in your neck.

"you eaten, baby?" you ask.

he hasn't. but he'll get there.

[shadowdaddies]

I would love an Azriel x reader where they are friends and they have a conversation and Azriel’s scars come up. And he talks about how he hates them and always tried to hide his hands. Then the reader says something about how they find them sexy because all the textures and bumps would feel amazing in the bedroom. Then Az just flabbergasted because he never thought of it like that

Hi! Thank you for the request, lovely. Sorry this took me so long, I hope it is worth the wait.💜

Your Touch

Azriel x f!Reader

warnings: smut below the cut, oral f!receiving, allusions to past injury

Cool autumn wind blew gently across your face, blowing strands of your hair to tickle your cheeks as you stepped outside to the training ring. It was a quiet morning, too early for anyone else to be up, or so you thought. The sound of metal brushing stone drowned out the birds’ morning chirps, drawing you toward the source of the disruptive noise.

Azriel’s dark form contrasted against the light morning mist, the Shadowsinger’s large wings folded tightly behind him as he hunched over his treasured blade. Eyebrows furrowed with focus, Az sharply dragged Truth Teller along the whetstone with more force than usual. 

You were one of few who recognized the spymaster’s subtle tells, who knew when something was bothering him. The way he gripped his blade, scarred hands flexing with each purposeful stroke against the stone... With a flush you looked away just in time before hazel eyes flicked to you. 

It was a practiced dance, a rhythm that flowed in flawless agony each time you caught yourself staring at your best friend. That tug in your chest that pulled you to find him in moments like this also let you know when he could feel you - your eyes on him, your presence - but you would not let him feel your longing.

He was the most thoughtful, loyal male you had ever known, and nothing was worth risking losing his place in your life. So you looked away, time after time, in hopes of keeping him around in any way possible.

“You’re up early,” his warm voice rumbled, snapping you from your spiraling thoughts. Forcing your gaze to his, you thanked the Mother for the cool breeze disguising the blush on your cheeks. You smiled, watching the gold in his eyes shimmer as he offered a small smile back.

“I could say the same to you,” you countered, willing courage into your bones and urging them forward to find your seat next to Azriel on the bench. His wrist flicked blade against stone once more, sparks flying as he huffed a tense breath. “Please be careful, Az,” you murmured, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. “You’ll cut your hand,” you added, nodding to his other hand which held the whetstone.

A short, humorless laugh escaped him, no hesitation in his reply. “As if they could look any worse.”

You both grew immediately still, hearts pounding now louder than the birds in the trees, Azriel’s words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. You tracked how his throat rolled, another tell of nerves, of what he’d admitted.

“Azriel,” you whispered, taking the opportunity of his pause to reach for his arm as you looked into his eyes. You could see the emotions warring within them, the deep tortures of his past swirling, same as those thoughts eddied into darkness itself. “Your hands are beautiful.”

His eyes shuttered at your words, body tensing but not moving away from your reassuring touch. “Do not feel pity for me,” Az gritted out, his chest rising dramatically with unreadable emotion. “I know the hideous scars I have bared my entire life. Do not pretend they’re beautiful when I know they’re not.”

Something sparked inside of you at his words, as if the Mother herself propelled you to take his hands more firmly in yours. The intensity in your gaze drew Azriel from his stupor, his lips slightly parting as he looked at you in wonder.

“I do not ‘pretend’ anything about you is beautiful, Azriel. I know you are. And your hands...” You paused, allowing your gaze to drift to where you held him, his palms laid gently against your fingers. You stroked the skin there, the grooves and ridges surprisingly soft against your own. Earlier thoughts of those hands, how they might touch you, incensed your mind, leading your thoughts astray - for only a moment.

Azriel cleared his throat, drawing your eyes back to his own where instead of those earlier emotions, now lay a hint of mischief. “My hands...?” he questioned, brows raised in intrigue. 

No weather could disguise the burning of your cheeks now, no birds to drown out the nervous laughter that escaped you. “I, um... I think they are very nice,” you managed, dropping his hands and quickly shifting slightly away.

“They’re nice?” Azriel pressed, his curiosity only growing from your statement.

Breathless, you continued, something in your gut giving you the bravery to finally share a small part of what you felt for Azriel with him. “Yes, they’re... they would feel nice.” Panicked gaze finding his, you amended, “I mean, they do feel nice. Just now, when I held them.”

Azriel was now smiling down at you with an amused grin. “No, you said they would feel nice... What does that mean?” 

Fumbling over words, none came to you. Feeling like a rabbit caught in a snare, you prepared to run when those hands found yours. Azriel pulled you close, holding you in place more surely than gravity as one scarred finger ever so lightly traced your cheek. 

“Tell me where they would feel good,” he purred, voice low and commanding as you leaned into his touch.

“Everywhere,” you breathed. 

Instantly, Azriel’s hands were everywhere, grabbing any part of you he could as the two of you frantically stripped each other of your leathers. Laying you down against the training mat, Az’s black hair fell around his face as he grinned and lowered his lips to yours. Soft but precise, he knew exactly what he was doing as your body became aflame beneath his.

Lips and hands trailed down your body, leaving reminders of your pleasure in their path before he paused above your pussy, so warm against the cool autumn air. “I want to hear how good this feels,” Az murmured, giving no explanation before his finger barely grazed your clit, sliding down to your core. 

You had never felt more vindicated than in that moment, when reality proved better than fiction. Azriel’s warm breath fanned over your heat as he watched your reaction to his touch, finger slowly teasing inside of you before he added another. 

Your mewls and gasps echoed through the open air along with his name, giving Azriel satisfaction as his wrist flicked and curled his fingers, working you as expertly as his blade. The moment his lips touched your clit, you were gone. Back arched off the mat, you felt the cool breeze against your sweaty, writhing body. 

Azriel continued working you through your high, pulling his hand from your cunt to hold it in the light for the both of you to see. Studying the glistening coat of your slick on his fingers, Azriel hummed. “That is beautiful,” he murmured, before turning to lock eyes with you while he licked his digits clean, openly groaning at the taste.

Smirking up at him, you lunged to pull Az back towards you, eager to have your hands on him now, but the shadowsinger held your wrists, stepping back with a ‘tsk.’ 

“We’ll have time for that later,” he winked, tossing you your clothes. “Training starts in two minutes.”

Jaw slack, you prepared to argue with him when you heard the doors open, Nesta and Cassian’s voices echoing as you scrambled to get into your leathers before they could see. 

“Gods, it reeks of sex in here,” Nesta groaned, silvery eyes scanning until they landed  between you and Azriel. A brief smirk graced her lips before she muttered something that sounded like “finally,” smacking a chuckling Cassian on the shoulder and settling in on the other side of the training area. 

You looked to where Azriel stood in the spot where he’d just worshipped your body, gaze not shying away in the slightest from his satisfied smirk as you calculated the time until training was over.

[our-trans-punk-experience]

THE BATTLE JACKET MASTERPOST

FINALLY PUNKS IT'S HERE

a battle jacket (also called battle vest, cut-off, punk jacket, patch jacket, and probably other stuff) is a jacket (duh) usually made from denim or leather with DIY additions of patches, studs, flags, painted panels, chains, and other bonuses, used to signify subculture. Punk, metal, and biker scenes all use patch jackets, but I'll only go into specifics about how they're used in the punk scene. Metalheads, I think, almost solely personalise with music/band shit. Bikers use them to signifying which club you're riding with. Punks started using them in the 70s and they've remained a staple of the subculture's style since. They're good for signalling your politics, bands you like, and other information you might want to get across. They also look cool.

HOW TO START

If you're here I assume you wanna learn how to make your own so I'll cut the history lesson short and get on to the practicals.

1: first you're going to want to get a plain jacket, probably denim or leather, but you could get a canvas jacket if you're nervous and new to the scene because it's way easier to stitch canvas, so you could experiment with that as you're building confidence. The jacket should be at least a bit oversized because with all the stitching and painting or whatever you'll be doing, you could run into fit issues with a very form fitting jacket. also, this jacket might frequently be worn over other jackets or layers so that will help with that too

2: start making choices. namely whether you want to keep the sleeves. obviously you can remove or reattatch the sleeves later but I think making that big mod first is a good starting point to help you feel like it's a work in progress. so if you're going to chop the sleeves I say do it now

3: brainstorm. I know, I know, coming up with your own ideas is hard, but this is your own totally literally unique piece, so think about what sorta look you want

4: you don't have to brainstorm alone though. search tumblr or pinterest for punk jackets, punk patches, punk clothes ect for inspiration. you might get a good idea for an individual patch, or for a broader layout

PATCHES

1: the big deal. this is what will make your jacket into a battle jacket. there are some unofficial rules/sayings in the scene about what sort of patches you should put on your jacket. some people get dickish sometimes about if you put a non-punk band on your jacket? however i think that is bollocks and you should do whatever you want forever. one saying i do personally mostly stick to is "politics up front, bands on the back" with the idea you stick your politics on your front so you can see the punches coming

2: where do you get the patches? you make them yourself. You can buy ofc but don't get shit off amazon or shein or whatever the fuck. If your fav band or small artist is selling patches go for it though. You will have the most choice if you make your own patches. Do you have scrap fabric (maybe the sleeves of the jacket, which is where i got a lot of my patch material)? Do you have paint and paintbrush? good. you can make a patch

3: how do you do that? well depends on whether you stencil or freehand. stencil means you cut out an outline, of say a band logo, out of card, and use that as a stencil. freehand means you paint whatever tf you like

4: paint?? yes paint. messy as you like. start maybe with simple slogans or symbols often found in the punk scene like "ACAB" or "eat the rich". maybe an anarchy symbol. i also like to paint a layer of mod podge over my designs to waterproof them.

5: great, you've got a patch, what are you going to do with it? sew it onto the jacket. unless ofc you bought an iron-on in step 2, in which case iron that shit on and be careful punks. most likely though, you're sewing it on. a lot of punks use tooth floss to sew on because its cheaper, easier to find, readily waxed and waterproof, and does a better job sewing shit down onto heavy duty material like leather or denim. I use a combined running stitch and whip stitch personally

STUDS n SPIKES

1: all those punks you've seen have metal sticking out their jacket eh? yeah, theres a whole lot of options here. spikes of many different sizes and shapes, which within that can be stitch on, screwback, or have fold down prongs on the back of them

2: where do you put them? probably the front or top of the jacket. you can put them on the back but that might be uncomfortable, or rip up someone's upholstery

3: where do you get them? you can still DIY these by cutting up a metal drinks can [whole other post] but BE CAREFUL. i suggest checking out the internet for these, same buying rules as patches though. no shein. no amazon.

OTHER SHIT??

1: go wild

2: other common additions would be chains, lighter caps, badges, and can tabs

HAVE FUN PLS ASK ME QUESTIONS AND SHARE IF YOU START A BATTLE JACKET

[pretzel-box]

I love you writing! Could you do something with jealous Sebastian?

A joke too much

words: 1,3k

status: non-proof read

tags: established relationship, sebastian is jealous, random nameless guy to fill in for the plot, comfort & bad diving suit jokes

sebastian might be a bit ooc but that's nothing new lol

Despite all the horrible things that had happened so far in the drastic depths of the Hadal Blackside, you were more certain than ever that hardships are easier to overcome with a group of co-workers—or, in this case, familiar victims of the expendable project that Urbanshade had set up to retrieve a simple crystal.

One of those people was a fellow inmate who shared a punishment similar to yours, which made it easier to bond over the shared misery. Their sarcastic way of lightening up every dark situation was a refreshing change of pace amid all the horrors and violence that usually surrounded your group.

"I would have worked harder on my bikini body if I knew I’d end up here," the fellow prisoner joked, gesturing to the basic diving suit Urbanshade had issued as minimal equipment. The ill-fitting suit clung awkwardly to his frame, adding a touch of absurdity to an otherwise grim situation.

"Ah yes, these diving suits definitely highlight all the right curves," you hummed back in amusement, trying to suppress a grin.

The lighthearted banter continued as you both navigated the dim, foreboding corridors. The small, wholesome moments of connection were a welcome reprieve from the relentless tension. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep the growing dread at bay, if only for a little while.

Eventually, you found yourselves standing before Sebastian's signature vent—a crude entrance that had become all too familiar. With a quick push, the piece of metal flew across the dark floor, clattering noisily. From the other side, Sebastian's disinterested voice echoed in the narrow passage.

"Welcome back, you... and you," he muttered, his tone flat as his ear fins twitched slightly, betraying his annoyance. His gaze flicked to the person next to you, clearly sizing them up. "Another day, another poor selection of team members, huh? Shame I don’t sell good ones either."

His joke, dripping with sarcasm, didn’t go unnoticed, but it didn’t have the desired effect either. You could see the faint lines of irritation on his face when he noticed your unimpressed expression. His usual wit seemed to fall flat in the current circumstances, and even he seemed to sense it.

"Really, Sebastian?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Your new companion stifled a chuckle, but you could tell they were a bit wary of the sea-serpent’s mood.

Sebastian sighed, leaning back slightly as if trying to shake off the tension. "What can I say? The company down here isn’t exactly what I’d call inspiring," he retorted, though there was a hint of resignation in his voice. He glanced between you and your new friend, his irritation giving way to something softer, almost like concern and you didn't missed the way his tail moved, showing how bothered he actually is without speaking it out loud.

“Seriously, who thought it was a good idea to send us down here with nothing but these glorified wetsuits?” Your team mate joked trying to get the comfortable atmosphere from earlier back by continuing his joke, shaking his head in disbelief. “If I knew I’d be stuck in a metal box at the bottom of the ocean, I might’ve packed something a little more comfortable.”

You chuckled, trying to ease the palpable tension. “At least you’re making it work,” you said, playfully nudging him with your foot.

Sebastian’s ear fins twitched at the sound of your laughter, and own claw-like fingers digged themself uncomfortably into his own palm. Without a care, he spoke, his voice carrying a sharp edge. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of laughing at this situation.”

Your friend raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on Sebastian’s mood. He pushed off the wall and took a step closer to you, a lighthearted smile still on his face. “Hey, we’re all just trying to make the best of it, right? No harm in keeping things a little less... bleak.”

Sebastian finally faced him directly, his eyes locking onto your friend with an intensity that made the room feel even smaller. “If you’re so focused on keeping things light, maybe you should find somewhere else to do it.”

The words were laced with a possessiveness that took both you and your friend by surprise. The room fell into a heavy silence as Sebastian’s gaze shifted to you, his expression unreadable. “Or is this how you’d rather spend your time?”

You swallowed hard, sensing the unspoken conflict. “Sebastian, we’re all stuck in this together. We don’t have to turn on each other.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Stuck together, sure. But don’t pretend like this is just another day at the office. We’re not exactly a team, are we?”

Your friend cleared his throat awkwardly, realizing he was caught in the middle of something much deeper than he’d anticipated. “Look, maybe I should just... give you two some space,” he suggested, glancing between you and Sebastian.

Before you could respond, Sebastian stood up and slithered across the room, positioning himself between you and your friend, his tall frame blocking the view. “Yeah, maybe you should,” he said, his tone final, leaving no room for argument.

The air in the room was thick with tension as your friend hesitated, then gave a small nod. “Right. I’ll, uh, catch up with you later,” he mumbled before slipping out of the room by crawling back throug the vent behind him.

Once the two of you were alone, Sebastian didn’t move, standing with his back to you, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. You could feel the cold emanating from his body, but there was also something else—a vulnerability he rarely showed.

“Sebastian,” you started softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “What’s going on? Why are you acting like this?”

He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t turn around either. His voice was low when he finally spoke. “Because I’m tired of watching someone else take care of you when I’ve been the one keeping you alive all this time.”

His words hit you like a wave, and you suddenly understood the depth of his jealousy. It wasn’t just about the other guy—it was about everything you’d been through together, everything he’d done to protect you. He was scared of losing you, of not being enough and being replaced with someone you just met.

You stood up and stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, resting your head against his back. “I know, Sebastian. I know you’ve always been there for me. And I’m grateful for that. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping as some of the tension drained from his body. Slowly, he turned in your arms, his cool hands resting on your shoulders as he looked down at you, his expression softening. “I just... I can’t lose you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached up, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “You’re not going to lose me. I’m right here.”

Sebastian’s gaze searched yours, and after a moment, he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms and tail around you in a protective embrace. The coldness of his body was no longer unsettling; instead, it was a familiar comfort.

For a while, you just stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the room, the earlier tension dissolving into a peaceful silence. Finally, Sebastian pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his breath cool against your skin. “I didn’t mean to get so... possessive.”

You smiled gently, your hands resting on his chest. “It’s okay. Just... remember that we’re in this together. Both of us.“

Sebastian nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Thank you, Sweetheart."

[ichangedmycornyahhname]

Earth 42!Miles x Reader

The buzzing of the drill was soon drowned out by the shattering glass.

Summary: After a talk with Miles, reader finds herself at the nail salon. She was treating herself, just as he had requested. But that self care day soon turns into much more. Part 1. Here

Warnings: A little angst? Violence | Cursing | Some spice I suppose. | I’m gonna warn y’all now, I do not speak Spanish fluently at all, so if anything is wrong grammatically please correct me. | I’m actually thinking of making this into a mini series? Maybe a part. 3 after this. Also! Open to some title ideas.

Miles kept his promise. He sent her money to get her nails done. Which is why now she sat in her usual salon, her friend Roxanne drilling at her nails. The salon was hidden deep within the city, a little hole in the wall. With New York in shambles, people had to find some sort of way to feel normal. “What design are we doing this time Y/N? Freestyle again?” Y/N shook her head at her pink haired friend, causing her Roxy to smirk. “Oh, I see. What’s the idea then?”

“Was thinking of doing purple and black. Maybe a little green.” Those were Miles signature colors. His prowler costume consisted of different shades of purple and black, and she was sure her friend could come up with something good. “Hm, that’s new. Alright whatever you say.” Roxy gave a fond smile before getting to work. As she did so, Y/N found herself pondering on what to do after getting her nails done. Maybe go get some food, check on a few friends, avoid the crooks on every street. Possibly invite Miles over for a late night rendezvous. She sighed at the thought. She was completely smitten with the guy.

As time went by, and Roxy made quick progress, a low rumble began to stir beneath their feet. Followed by the loud roar of an engine. She traded a look with Roxy, who had a brow raised in suspicion. “You feel that too?” She questioned as the drill buzzed just above Y/Ns nail. “Yeah, what the hell is that?” She replied to the woman with dyed hair. It wasn’t just the two who noticed. Most people within the nail salon glanced around, concerned and confused by the sudden rumbling. The same rumbling that suddenly stopped. “Maybe it’s construction.” Roxy chimed, doing her best to stay optimistic. Then she got right back to work. The drill buzzed, shaving down the black base of the nail. “What’s got you so preppy? You still with that guy?” Y/N flushed at the question, her gaze averting from Roxy’s. “Yeah, we’re still together. He’s a really good guy, just really busy.” She fawned. “That’s good, glad you’re doing well girl. Was getting worried about you after the whole..” Roxy’s voice trailed off, and Y/N took this as a chance to cut in, “I’m fine Rox, he makes me feel happy. I promise.” She gave her a look of confirmation and Roxanne only nodded.

The atmosphere of the salon was pleasant, relaxing. She found herself spacing out, her eyes focusing in on nothing too important while she lightly bopped her head to the music playing in the background. Then the rumbling returned, and much louder this time around. It sounded close, too close for comfort. Following the noise, her eyes landed on an incoming cop car. She could barely make out the sparking metal of the rim where the missing tire was before the car skidded onto the it’s side and tumbled into the big front window of the salon. The crashing of glass filled the shop, along with the blaring siren and tumbling debris. Y/N ducked down at the sight of the crash, pulling Roxy along with her as the broken down car came to a slow stop in the middle of the salon.

Amidst the carnage, she could faintly make out the crumpled figure of a cop within the drivers seat. She had no clue who the guy was. In fact, she had no clue what was even going on. All she knew was the salon was in utter ruins, and the car was spilling oil into a large puddle beneath it. She felt overwhelmed by the sight. By the sirens ringing in her ears, by the smoke rising from the cars engine. “Holy fuck..Rox we gotta get out of here!” She half whispered half shouted. Her hand found Roxy’s, giving it a light tug as she led the shell shocked woman to the wide opening left by the car. “Hurry up girl..! I’m not trying to die here..” She almost hissed. As they made their way past the wrecked car, the smoke from the debris and vehicle flooded their lungs. Roxy began to cough, heavy and intense. This would’ve caught her attention if the incoming villain didn’t. He was large, bulky, and clad in dark angular armor. His aura oozed superiority, while his hardly visible eyes were stuck on the cop unconscious in the car. It would seem the armored man had a target. With this new found knowledge (assumption), she made haste towards the exit, somehow managing to slither out without catching the attention of the man in armor. “Rox..we gotta get out of here man. Before that big dude spots us..” She muttered as they hid behind large pieces of debris. Her eyes took a glance over the fallen pieces of building, the sight of the man approaching the car bringing a sort of relief to her. “What are you talking about Y/N? We can’t leave that cop in there. That guy will kill him..!” Y/Ns jaw slacked, shocked by her friends desire to rush into danger. “The hell are you talking about? We’ll be squashed like bugs if we go in there..” She found Roxy’s arm, and have it a harsh squeeze as she tried to get the woman to stay back. Though it would seem to be pointless. Roxy was already slipping away and sneaking her way back into the building.

Y/Ns hands found her hair. Her fingers tugged at the root as she watched frantically as her friend entered the building once more. “What the hell am I supposed to do. I can’t fight that dude he’s fucking huge..and I’ll be caught if I-“ She paused mid sentence as she came to a realization. And soon she was dialing Miles’ number, hoping that the fool would answer his phone.

“Please pick up..please..fuck.” Click, “Yeah, what’s up ma?”

“Oh thank fuck-“ A breath of relief left her now chapped lips, she had never been so thankful to hear his voice. “Miles, baby, you need to come quick!.. I was getting my nails done and then a cop car bursted through the damn window..now some big armor dude is about to kill him and my friend is trying to be a hero tryna save him..” Her words were quick, breathy, and frantic. And Miles immediately took notice of this. “Im..im at my usual place. Need you to hurry.” She whispered into the phone as she attempted to peek over to the scene that was unfolding.

“I’m on my way now.” Was all she received from her boyfriend. She wanted to respond, truly. But her tongue was tied, and her friend was about to be fighting for her life. Roxy had managed to get the cop out of the car, now dragging him out as quickly as she could, slippery streams of oil leaving a trail behind. “Cmon Rox..” She had long forgotten about her phone, and found herself at a crossroads. Should she help, be the good person she was raised to be? Or should she sit there and do nothing? She gulped, her hand visibly shaking around her phone as she mentally began to hype herself up. She had no clue what the rhino was doing this in the middle of the day, or any clue why he was only after the cop. But what she did know was that her friend was in danger. “Y/N? What’re you about to do?” She heard from the other side of the line. However, she didn’t reply. Instead she rushed over, still crouched down behind rubble as she made her way inside. “Rox! Rox..cmon grab his heavy ass and let’s get the hell out of here.” She cursed out as she found the man’s arm and tugged him away from the car, he was much more heavy than she had anticipated. “Thank you Y/N.” Roxy replied before tugging at the cops other arm. They worked to pull him out as quickly as possible, but the rhino took notice of this. His hard glare turned deadly, and he visibly uttered something inaudible to the panicking woman. “Hurry! Hurry!”

He growled, his head lowering as he changed positions. At first, she wasn’t sure what he was doing, and then she realized. He was charging, at them.

She dropped the cops arm and attempted to pull Roxanne off of the cop, her movements quick and frantic. And she almost budged, but it would seem as though shock had gotten to her, her grip unbreakable. “Roxy cmon!” She screamed, shrill with panic. They were going to die. They were going to die in a broke down nail salon because her friend wanted to save a cop. Y/Ns eyes slammed shut as she waited for the inevitable. Her breath caught in her throat at the incoming impact, but it never came. Instead the crash of another vehicle caused her ears to ring, followed by large hands shaking her out of her fear. “Hey. Hey you okay? Talk to me!” Her eyes shot open, her hands coming up to wrap around the figures wrists. “M- Mil- prowler.” She was absolutely relieved to see him, to hear that robotic filter on his voice as she stared at his mask. “I’m..okay..where’s uhm.” She took a moment, swallowing as she gathered herself. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, and her body was shaking with unease. She swallowed, spit wetting her dry mouth. Quickly she collected herself. “Roxy, where’s Roxy? And that cop?”

“They’re fine, but we gotta go before that dude wakes up. Cmon.” He said as he turned around and pulled her onto his back. She didn’t bother arguing, she didn’t have the energy. Somehow, Miles managed to drag all three of them out of the crash sight and far enough out of harms way. It was a dingy alley way, trash and other none-sense tossed around. Y/N was still resting on his back, her cheek pressed against his shoulder as her arms wrapped around his neck. “Thought I was gonna die back there.” She uttered the words, but he heard them loud and clear. “Nah, I would never let that happen. You know that mami. I called the cops for your friend and that man. You’re coming home with me.” He wasn’t asking, he was telling, and she was perfectly fine with that.

-

Miles slipped into his apartment through the window, and trudged inside. He tossed his metal gauntlet onto the floor, his hands free to lay her onto his bed. The plush mattress underneath her body managing to relax her muscles. Miles didn’t join her in bed immediately. Instead he was packing his suit up along with his gauntlets, before stepping back over. Now in a simple black tank top and sweats. His gaze was soft, solemn even. His hand found a strand of her hair, fiddling with it as he watched her cautiously. “Wanna go clean up? I can start a bath or shower for you..” He asked as he took a seat on the bed beside her.

“Yeah, all this damn dust and sweat is gonna make me look a hot mess.” He gave a small chuckle at her joke, though he wasn’t all to amused by the entire situation. He figured it was best to get her comfortable before talking about anything. “Ight. Cmon then ma.” His hands went under her body, picking her up princess style and bringing her over to the bathroom. “I’ll bring you a towel and wash cloth, just gimme a sec.” He gently set her down, his hand lingering on her arm before he left only to briefly return.

“I left some clothes for you on the counter.” He mentioned before placing a kiss upon her forehead and departing from the restroom. She smiled, thankful for his presence. And soon she hopped in the shower. It was relaxing, the hot water pattering gently across her skin. The feeling of cleanliness as she washed the remainders of the day away.

Eventually, she was hopping out of the shower and putting the clothes he had given her on. It wasn’t anything special. Just a pair of his shorts and a shirt, but it felt special to her. Y/N made her way through Miles (Rio’s) apartment, finding her way into the kitchen to snatch up a few snacks. Thankfully Mrs. Morales was fast asleep in her room, so she went without questioning. Y/N made her way back to Miles’ room, entering and shutting the door behind her. His room was mature, calm colors, basic necessities. The usual stuff. Plus his punching bag that she played with on the occasion. From the windows opening, she could see the moons light shining through. She was a bit surprised to see how dark it had gotten. But, she had no issue with it. Not when she was still alive. She gave Miles a faint smile, “Don’t think I’ve ever been so thankful for a shower.” She chimed jokingly as she set the snacks down onto the bedside table. Then she plopped back down on his bed and wrapped herself up in his blanket. Miles was currently standing in front of his closet, fiddling with a glove from his suit as though he was contemplating something. This caught her attention. Sitting up, she sighed. “So, how exactly did you beat that guy?” She inquired, which caused his eyes to meet hers.

“Threw my motorcycle at him. Knocked him down long enough to get you out.” He said before tossing his glove onto his desk chair and making his way over to the bed. Her jaw was wide at his explanation, surprised at his confession. “Your motorcycle? Are you serious babe? That’s fucking crazy.” He only smirked as his hands intruded the blanket and his arms wrapped firmly around her torso. “I’ll just make another one with Unc.” His weight caused her to fall back on his bed, her head now snug in his pillow. His arms felt comforting around her as his head rested on her chest, his soft breaths managing to calm her down. Her hands found his hair, now fiddling with the ends of his braids. Sure, it wasn’t her first time seeing them, but she certainly thought the style suited him well. “I like them, they’re cute.” She said, which caused him to shift and rest his chin on her chest. He had a satisfied look on his face, one only a victor would wear.

“Knew you did. Mom thought they made me look weird, but eh, I think I like them.”

“Good, they suit you.” She nodded in agreement. They sat in silence for a moment, watching each other with gentle eyes. Her hands scratched lightly at his scalp, managing to make his eyes shut. It would seem that the only time Miles could truly allow himself to feel vulnerable, was around her. After a few minutes of pleasant silence, Miles spoke again, his tone much more serious. “Me dejaste preocupado mami..” He muttered, his words muffled as he burried his face back into her chest. This made her heart ache, her brows knitting with concern. “Mi vida, I’m okay now. You saved me..and my friend. Thank you.” He shook his head. “Next time you run. Call me, I’ll help your little friends. For now though, you’re my main priority.” He proclaimed before sitting up from her chest and leaning up to kiss her lips. “I’m serious Y/N. You run.” He spoke against her lips.

“Okay..” She mumbled, her eyes shut and her hands resting on his jaw. Her lips grazed his, the distance growing tantalizingly close. And finally he pressed back into her, lips meshing into hers as his hands traversed her sides. “So glad you’re okay..” He said in a hushed manner as he poured his love into every movement. His kisses slowly began to lower, finding her neck, then her collar bone, and- she hissed. Wincing beneath him, her body tensed and he froze. His hard stare lingered on her, awaiting a sign to stop or continue. “Sorry, think I got a bruise or something. You can keep going Miles.” He didn’t. Not there.

His hands found her legs, now pulling her thighs apart just enough to get closer to her. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, the anticipation of what’s to happen making her giddy with excitement. “Relajate, Y/N. You’re tired and need to rest.” He said as he shifted them around, the two of them now lying on their sides wrapped in one another’s arms. This caused her to sigh, a frown on her face as she glared up at him. “Don’t look at me like that. You just went through a lot, don’t want you hurting yourself more.” He said as he tugged the blanket over their forms.

“Next time don’t start it if you’re not gonna finish it Miles.” She scoffed before scooting into his chest, his familiar scent drawing a small grin from her. “Who said I wouldn’t finish it mami? Just letting you get better first.” She could feel him smirk against her head as he rested his face against the crown of it. His words were enough to silence her, along with the sudden depletion of adrenaline. The two snuggled together, the soft blankets paired with the warmth of one another was enough to make them dreary. “Fine..Goodnight, love you Miles.”

“Te amo ma.”

Taglist? - @willowcxmilee @rinouko @chims-kookies @bbybubbles @supremeshrimpy2 @marice23top @korizzybee @otaku-degenarate @movie-enthusiast22 @corpsebridenightamare @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @marsbars09 @dystop4in14nd @ethanlandrysgf69 @mmxinne @brxght-world @rinisfruity14 @repostingmyfavs @sammarvel123 @idkwhatimdoingherehonestlyy @frissy @d4ridi0rsworld @julie03 @sakura-onesan @oh-kurva (Yall I’m never making a taglist again 🙁 props to y’all who do bc this is too much work.)

[allfearstofallto]

PLS CAN YOU FEED US MORE hero of the nation knight!childe ON MY KNEES I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH AND I SEARCHED EVERYWHERE FOR A FIC LIKE THIS

This took FOREVER to write, but here you go!!

Blessings Be to The Hero of the Nation

Historical AU

Yandere Hero of the Nation! Childe x Fem! Reader

TW: yandere themes, stalking, minor character death, blood, threatening, forced marriage/engagement

He kept one of your hair ribbons wrapped around the hilt of his sword. It billowed in the wind constantly and would draw watchful eyes to it. That pastel pink fabric didn't match a single thing on his brutish, usually bloody exterior, but he still kept it regardless. You tragically didn't give it to him in a blatant display of affection and well wishes for him on his journey, instead, he found the little ribbon after it'd blown off your head and up to the wind. A little pout formed on your lips realizing you'd lost it, but you decided against retrieving it. He didn't though. He picked it up and placed it in his pocket, taking it home to clean off the dirt and grime.

That same ribbon was clenched in his hands when he arrived at the gate of your manor, along with a few other gifts that he would give to you. He'd just slayed the dragon, the wretched menace that was terrorizing the nation, now and only now did he feel worthy to ask for your hand. Cleaning off all the blood and gore that was on his armor, polishing it into light metal that could blind anyone who looked directly at it, he was certain that this would charm you off of your feet.

When he was invited into your home by your parents who were surprised to see the hero himself at their door, he didn't care about the tea or the cakes. The praise meant nothing coming from them. He skipped the pleasantries and went straight to the point. He wanted your hand in marriage and he wanted the wedding to be soon.

A skittish expression crossed your father's face as he gritted his teeth, “We've decided to leave that decision up to her.” Childe smirked, that was even better. He'd never met a woman who wouldn't fall for his charms.

You were called down from your room, eyelids heavy and half open, still in your thin sleeping gown with a robe over it. You were rubbing the tiredness from your eyes as you walked down the stairs, your other delicate hand gripping the banister. And when you saw him, you bowed. A deep traditional bow, given to those of a respectable higher status.

He kneeled down on one knee before you. The male kneeled for only one person, the queen herself. His sword pulled from its sheath, he laid it flat against his palms, offering it up to you. That knocked the sleepiness from his body and suddenly your eyes were wide open. Genuine shock was making your body stiff as a board and you looked back and forth to your parents who didn't say a word.

“Your visage has danced around my heart non stop since the first time I laid eyes on you. I wish to use this sword only to fight for you. Won't you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?” Words spoken in honor, with him meaning every bit of it. You were meant to take the sword from his hands, tapping it gently upon each of his shoulders, but you didn't. You just stood there, lips trembling, but not saying anything.

A marriage proposal via a letter was easy to ignore or reject, you didn't have to see their reaction. But never had you had someone be so bold as to propose to you in person. And not only that, the very hero that saved the Kingdom. Rumors told you he'd be marrying the first princess, she obsessed over him before he became the hero and those feelings seemed to only grow stronger after he waltzed into the city with the bloody head of the beast. Yet here he was at your feet, patiently anticipating your answer which he was positive was going to be a yes.

“I-'' you began, trying to think of the easiest way to let him down gently, “I fear that I'm not ready for marriage yet.” You said hurriedly. That wasn’t entirely a lie. You spent countless hours looking at the list of marriage candidates and scoping them out at balls and parties, but quickly realizing that none of them suited your tastes in that way. The entire idea of being wed barely satisfied you. You wanted to push it off for as long as possible.

“I'm willing to wait for you until the world crumbles. I'd even accept being your fiance until the day we die, as long as I can say you're mine,” he was persistent, you'd give him that.

You fiddled with your fingers nervously. Time felt as if it had stopped and this moment would never end. No matter what you did, he was still going to be there, “I thought you were to be wed to her highness, the princess?” You questioned him.

A scoff fell from his cherry pink lips, eyes looking you up and down, drinking in every inch of your body in that thin nightgown, “She does not interest me. Not the way you do.”

“There is really nothing interesting about me,”

“Won't you let me be the judge of that?”

Your shoulders slumped as you looked to your parents. They seemed as surprised by his persistence as you did, but weren't going to step in to help you, they always affirmed that it was your decision, they wanted you to be independent.

“Forgive me, hero, but I can not accept your offer,”

For just a split second you saw that princely expression slip. His eyes grew dark, lips in a deep frown, a rage you'd never seen before. But he was back to his usual expression in less than a second, that charming smile forming on his lips again as he stood from his knees and sheathed his sword a little too slowly.

“You wound me, my lady,” he'd mutter softly, hands still conveniently tight around the hilt of this sword, “Won't you please accept my gifts? And if you are to begin considering marriage, I hope that my proposal will be remembered fondly.”

Childe showed himself out, a little too quickly, but you didn't dare tell him to slow down. It was only once he was out those large double doors, did the air in your home feel breathable, you finally felt safe again. You watched his carriage leave from a window, watching as his eyes went dull again, losing all shimmers and feeling like a hollow mimicry of what humans were supposed to look like.

You were quite embarrassed to say you fell in love after that. Not with Childe, of course. You mentally tried to push the man from your mind after the way he startled both you and your family. Instead, your feelings developed for a commoner boy. You found yourself eyeing him when he'd deliver produce to your home, his face being one of pure beauty despite his messy exterior. As months went by, you'd catch yourself stealing bashful glances at him, locking eyes only for both of you to look away shyly. When the engagement was announced, Childe was one of the first to hear about it.

You twirled around the house in your wedding dress. Something plain and basic, but it was what your family could afford, and quite honestly, you loved it. You didn't want to take it off. Your fear of getting it dirty lessened as the days went by, until the wedding was only a week away.

“A guest for you, my lady,” one of your maids had said. Typically, when the employees of the house saw you dressed in your white gown, they'd smile at you, overjoyed as well. But she didn't. She looked worried, even a bit tense as she made the announcement to you.

“I hadn't arranged to meet anyone today,” you said a bit quietly, going to you closer to pick out something to change into, “Please tell them to wait in the day room.”

She stood stiffly for a second, then opened her trembling mouth to speak again, “I tried to, my lady. But he insisted on seeing you right now. He's just outside the door,”

A part of you wanted to ask who it was, who would be so disrespectful as to barge right up to a lady's room without her permission. But you already knew. There was a sense of unease sinking into your stomach. Unease and recognition. All the gifts and letters he'd sent weren't enough, were they? The man you were ignoring just had to come see you in person.

“Let him in,” you told the maid. She seemed confused at the ease at which you allowed such a thing, but still opened the door, revealing Childe who stood still in the hallway. He stepped past her, eyes only trained on you, “You're dismissed,” you said quietly, with a reassuring smile to the maid. Hesitance danced across her face, looking back and forth between you Childe, but she still did as told, bowing before leaving.

“You look lovely,” he said breathlessly, taking in the sight of you in that pure white dress.

“Thank you,” was all you could think to say back. Now that he was here before you, your mind was growing blank, all the things you wanted to say suddenly getting lost in fear. You tried not to notice the tension in the room, the way he was eyeing you like a predator about to pounce on a rabbit, but even your tough exterior was easy to see through.

“My heart aches for you, my lady,” he speaks softly while taking slow steps towards you. The terror of this situation made you move backwards, until your feet had made you press your back against the wall, “I fear that my haste might've made me do something…irrational.”

His dominant hand seems focused on the sword at his hip, making you look at it. It was only when you saw the red speckles all over his hand, hilt of the sword, and the oddly familiar pink ribbon he kept tied around it, did that coppery smell fill your nostrils.

With a trembling voice and a fake smile, you tried to assure him, “Any mistake is fixable, Sir Childe.”

“Not this one,” his hand continued to hold the hilt of his sword, squeezing it a few times as of testing the weight of his blade, “Do you know the best part of being the hero? The dragon slayer?” He asked, waiting for your response which was just a slow, forced shake of your head, prompting him to continue, “It's not the riches or the praise. It's not even the women.” As he speaks, one of his hands slides down from your cheek, to your neck, to the bodice of your dress. Tearful eyes look down to see him smearing that red liquid, that blood onto you white dress, staining it.

“I don't understand,” you mumbled, but your words fall on deaf ears.

“The best part of being the hero, is the freedom to do what I want. With no prosecution. Who in their right mind would stand up to the man who saved our failing nation? The answer is no one. Not the king, nor his workers, and especially not your weak little fiance,”

The sight and smell of blood, Childe's deep, hollow blue eyes, the way your heart felt as if it wanted to lurch out of your mouth. All things you tried to focus on as his words pounded their way into your skull, understanding washing over you like a wave that was trying to drown you where you stood.

“Wh-what did you do?” Your voice, so high pitched and breaking as the weight of the words forced through your body.

His hand, cold, soft, wet with blood rubbed your cheek, while his face never faltered, those dead eyes never changing, he had no remorse. It made you sick to your stomach, images of your fiance flashing through your head as you tried to imagine what he looked like, the hopeful ones saying that he was at least still alive.

“I'm going to ask again, nicely this time,” he began while pulling a ring from his pocket. Much more intricate than the one your fiance had given you, seeing as he had the hero's budget. But that didn't make you feel any less light headed when it was slipped onto your ring finger, freezing cold against your warm skin, “Will you do me the honor of becoming my bride?”

[steddie-island]

Tender Headed

I saw this post by @mothofmyth and couldn't stop myself. I hope this does your idea justice. ❤️ ao3 | Divider by @cafekitsune

Someone else was standing at Steve’s usual station, instead of his usual girl. 

It wasn’t a girl at all. 

“Hey! Do you have an appointment?” not-regular-stylist asked.

“No– yes? I, uh– I have a standing appointment. With Kayla?” Steve brushed his fingers through his hair and looked around at the otherwise empty salon. 

He’d been looking forward to this for weeks, practically since the end of his last appointment. The thought of having to cancel, of having to reschedule because she was out sick or something– it made Steve’s skin feel too tight, itchy.

It made tears prick at his eyes like this was a bigger deal than just a stupid haircut. 

Which. Okay, maybe it was for him, but it’s not like any of the stylists, like this stranger , needed to know that. 

“Are you okay, man?”

Steve blinked, bringing the man back into focus again. He was pretty, with long curls piled up on top of his head and a delicate black hoop hanging from his septum. His cut off sleeves showed the ink decorating his arms and disappearing under the fabric. 

He had to shake himself to bring the man’s voice back, to stop ogling him. 

“--won’t be back for a few months,” he was explaining. 

“What?” Steve knew this guy probably thought he was an idiot, but his mind was thick and sticky and nothing this guy was saying was sticking. 

“Early maternity leave,” he said again, patiently. “I’m Eddie, I’m taking her station over while she’s gone.” He gestured to the empty salon again. “I don’t have any appointments right now, if you’re cool with a substitute…” 

Steve almost turned around, but there was something about the wide brown eyes that fixed on him that made him stay. 

“I… sure. Yeah.” It wasn’t like he was that attached to his hair anyway. Yeah, he wanted it to look good, but not to the point that everyone else thought he did. 

It wasn’t about the haircut. 

He followed Eddie back to the washing station. Even though this was a stranger who was going to be taking care of him, Steve still felt a shiver go through him as he got situated. 

There were a few clinks, metal against ceramic. Steve tipped his head back enough to see Eddie removing several chunky rings and placing them in a little dish. A towel was rolled up carefully and placed beneath his neck. 

“Tell me if this is too much.” 

The water was cool, which Steve was prepared for. What he wasn’t prepared for was the way those long delicate fingers touched him. Kayla was gentle, but it was nothing like this. 

The way Eddie scrubbed so carefully at his scalp made Steve melt. Each fingertip was so deliberate in its movements, in the way his hair was gathered back and brushed out of his face. Eddie’s fingers trailed over his ear and Steve had to bite his lip. 

Maybe this was too much, but he couldn’t stop it. 

He’d never been handled like this. No one had ever touched him like he was a delicate, breakable thing. Sure, he cuddled with Robin. He got to hug the kids, and Joyce, and Claudia.

But this was… something else. 

Eddie wasn’t getting anything out of this– not the same way everyone else got something, like, paying him for his service was different, right? 

Steve was going to see it as that, anyway. He imagined Eddie wasn’t touching him like this because he was getting a big tip from it. 

He imagined that Eddie was brushing water off of his forehead with a knuckle because he just wanted to know what the skin felt like there. Those calloused fingers were tucking the hair behind his ears because he wanted to study the curve of his tragus– maybe wondering what Steve would look like with a hoop there, like the one in his own ear. 

Eddie’s thumb was wiping away water from his cheeks because he wanted to know if Steve’s cheeks were rough with stubble or not, and not because this was just a professional courtesy.

Only maybe this wasn’t a professional courtesy. 

Because it wasn’t just water that Eddie had sprayed on him. Steve was fucking crying . 

He wanted to run, but before he could even get up Eddie was putting a damp hand on his shoulder. 

“Stay. You’re okay.” Eddie’s voice was a low rumble that Steve wanted to hide in. “I’ve got you, big boy.” 

How was Steve supposed to not listen to that? He settled back into the chair and let Eddie rinse away the shampoo. Then those nimble hands were working the conditioner into his hair just as gently. The touches were a little more solid now, though. Eddie’s fingers grazed his neck, touched his cheek, wiped more tears from his cheeks. 

“You’re not the only person who comes in here for this.” Steve couldn’t even find the words to ask if he was that transparent. It wasn’t like the crying couldn’t have been from him being tender headed, or from the water being too hot. He was too focused on Eddie speaking to him to try to make excuses for himself. 

Eddie’s voice was soft and low. It was comforting, and it wasn’t hard for Steve to imagine how he would sound if he were singing, the way the words would wrap around him. Would it make him feel the same way he felt with his hair wrapped around Eddie’s hands? 

He was in the shampoo chair for three times as long as he normally would be. Eddie took his time with the conditioner and gave it extra time to sit. He was just as thorough about rinsing it, then about working a smoothing serum through his strands. 

By the time Eddie was wrapping Steve’s hair loosely in a towel and sitting him up, Steve was feeling lighter than he’d felt in months. He figured he should have felt raw and vulnerable, and there was a little bit of that, but Eddie’s presence was calming. Maybe it was the way he chattered as he started working on Steve’s hair. He talked about other customers, about his uncle, about how he’d been doing his own hair for years. He even brought up the time he’d burnt his hair with bleach so bad he’d had to give himself a buzzcut, because that was better than the spongy mess he’d left himself with. 

Steve started opening up, too, by the time Eddie was drying and styling his hair. He talked about his own worst haircut, about the time Robin had let him bleach her hair and she had ended up with a streak of green in her hair instead of blue. At least it had been cute, though. 

Eddie spritzed Steve’s hair once… twice… a third and then a fourth time before smiling at their reflections in the mirror. This close, and without tears in his eyes, Steve could see the dimples in his cheeks. 

“What do you think?” Eddie brushed his fingers over the ends of Steve’s hair, then dropped a hand to let the weight of it rest against his shoulder. 

“I think it’s great.” Steve smiled back at him. It looked the same as it did when Kayla had worked on it, but he’d never looked this good before. Maybe it was the cut, or maybe it was just the way Eddie had put something bright back into his eyes. 

Steve pulled his card out to pay but Eddie refused. 

“I think we both needed today,” he’d said before smiling and sliding his card across the counter. “I hope you come back and see me sometime, Stevie. I’m happy to take care of you anytime.” 

Normally Steve might take that as flirting– and maybe it was, the way Eddie’s dimples popped even more and his eyes really sparkled under the light. It wasn’t just flirting, though, and that made warmth blossom in Steve’s chest. 

“Yeah, man. Definitely.” Steve tucked the card away and turned for the door. “Actually…” He looked back at Eddie, who had picked up the broom. “Do you maybe want to get a drink after work?” 

Eddie’s grin was bright. “Hell yeah. Why do you think I didn’t charge you?” he teased. “I get off in an hour.”

Steve laughed with him. “Cool. I’ll see you in an hour, then.” 

---

As it turned out, Steve didn’t need to come back in an hour because he hadn’t left yet. He was still there, helping Eddie clean things up. They talked about the kids Steve babysat, and Eddie pointed out that maybe it was okay for him to just say they were hanging out, because fifteen and sixteen year olds didn’t tend to need babysitters anymore. 

They picked up food in Eddie’s van, and they drove to the quarry to eat sitting in the back of it, with the doors open and two milkshakes between them. 

When they shared their first kiss that night it tasted like salt and fake strawberries. They parted ways with plans to see each other again the next day.  

Maybe it was okay that Steve didn’t have a standing appointment with his usual stylist anymore. 

[fushiguho]

Pay Me Mind, Please? ☆ Eren Yeager

☆ WORD COUNT – 8.5k ☆ SYNOPSIS – You're feeling needier than usual and you want nothing more than Eren's attention so you take matters into your own hands. Not to mention he's being awfully rude, all he cares about is his dumb game. Will he cave and give you what you want? ☆ CONTENT WARNINGS – Dom!Eren, breath play, dumbification, degradation, choking, Eren is a meanie

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*: ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

You sighed as you rolled over in the bed, stuffing your face into the pillow. A groan laced with a hint of annoyance was absorbed into the suffocating thickness of the pillow’s cushion. Huffing another breath, you turned your head to the side to glance at Eren who was sitting in the desk chair beside the bed. A look of concentration and engrossment was dripping from his sharp features.

His jaw was clenched and unmoving as his eyes were steady on the bright screen. Long, nimble fingers were dancing along the keyboard and computer mouse. His lengthy, dark hair was pulled into a messy bun on the back of his head. The few loose strands that he missed in the front were pushed back by a black headset that hugged his ears snuggly.

You trailed wandering eyes all over his figure, taking in everything in front of you. Eren was wearing a pair of grey shorts that hugged his thighs almost a little too tightly. Looking up a bit more, you were met with the dog tag that sat on his bare chest. The silver plated jewelry reflected light from the screen as it hung low from his neck. Your eyes began to hurt as you stared at the reflective jewelry.

You listened intently as he muttered quiet profanities under his breath every once in a while, expressing his frustration at whatever game it was he happened to be playing.

It had been a while since he's said anything to you. You weren't exactly sure how long it had been, you stopped counting.

"Are you almost done?" You whined as you nudged the chair with your foot.

Eren was quick to push your foot off the chair. "I said soon." He snapped, not even bothering to look at you.

It was very clear that he was annoyed with you. You've been bugging him for hours to come lay with you. But how could it possibly be your fault when he was the one who's been ignoring you all this time?

It wasn't uncommon for him to get like this, all inattentive and snappy. It happened whenever he'd play on that dumb computer. You'd be lying if you said you've never thought about smashing his precious monitor.

You sighed once again before pushing yourself up from the bed to stand behind him. Leaning down, you stuffed your face into the crook of his neck as you ran your hands along his bare biceps. You dragged your fingertips along the smooth skin as an attempt to pull his gaze away from the screen.

Eren never moved. He stayed still with a tight jaw as he continued to absentmindedly press buttons on the keyboard in front of him. It's almost like he was pretending you weren't even there.

You listened with careful ears to the pool of voices spilling from his headset. There were three distinctive voices, none of which you recognized. Maybe just a few of his friends, you thought.

You dropped your head down a bit to press your wet lips against his neck, placing a gentle kiss to the skin.

Still, nothing.

You wanted him so bad while he wanted nothing to do with you. It was hard to explain why, but seeing him like this, all unresponsive and impolite, it only made you want him more. You hated to admit it, but sometimes you liked when he got like this, only because you loved begging for him. It’s almost like a guilty pleasure of yours.

"Eren, please come lay down." You begged, mumbling the words against his skin.

He said nothing as you loosely wrapped your arms around his neck, further burrowing your face into him. You played with the silver chain of his necklace, twirling your fingers around the cold metal. As you did so, you continued to mutter a spew of incoherent pleads against the skin of his neck.

You placed a few more sweet kisses to the tight skin before slipping your tongue past your lips to lick at the flesh. Eren only shuffled a bit in his seat, readjusting himself, but still, he remained quiet.

"I want you, Eren." You admitted, speaking your words directly into his ear. You dragged a desperate hand down his torso, feeling every curve and divot of the profound muscles. He huffed an irritated breath before pushing your hand off of him.

You threw your hands up in defeat before backing away.

"You're no fun." You pouted while crossing your arms over your chest. You threw yourself onto the bed with an exasperated sigh. While laying quiet for a moment, you listened to the pattern of clicking coming from the keyboard as you let your mind wander.

Your thoughts didn't stray too far. Truthfully, the only thing you could think about was Eren. Your mind was always plagued with thoughts of him. Not a single one of them were ever clean either. Not in the slightest.

For some odd reason, you found yourself pushing your thighs together at the thought of him. You grew hot and uncomfortable as you let your mind drift off. The sole thought of Eren turning off his computer and walking over to you with the intent of fucking you stupid had your stomach flipping with excitement.

You wanted nothing more than to take all of him right then. You wanted to take him so deep, as much as he could give, or as much as you could take. You wanted him in the worst possible way. You wanted him in a way that one would consider worrisome.

God, you couldn't bear laying there anymore. You needed him so desperately, but he made it obvious that he wasn't going to give you what you wanted. The only option was to take matters into your own hands. If Eren wasn't going to give you what you want, so be it.

You dragged a slow hand down your body as you glanced over at Eren. You frowned as you noticed his eyes were still glued to the screen. All you wanted was his attention and you were willing to go great lengths to get just that.

With that same hand, you pushed your shirt up a bit to touch the skin that sat beneath. You carefully trailed your fingers along the soft skin of your stomach, trying to mimic Eren’s touch. Sliding your hand up just a bit, you began to massage the supple skin of your tits. Gently, you pinched the hardening buds. A barely audible gasp slipped past your lips at the contact.

You quickly looked over again to see if he noticed.

Nothing.

Before you even had time to think about it, you were sliding that hand back down your body and into your underwear. Your bottom lip quickly found itself tucked away between your teeth as you began making slow, cautious circles on your clit.

You couldn't help the whiny little moans that fell from your mouth as you felt your fingers becoming coated in your slick arousal. You always got so wet just from the thought of Eren. One could consider it almost piteous.

Two desperate fingers were quick to find themselves pushing into your wet little cunt. Your mouth fell open as you started to push them in and out of yourself. Small pants and whimpers made their way into the air as they came from your open mouth.

You rocked your hips into your hand, trying to get as much out of your fingers as you possibly could. It almost wasn't enough.

While pursing your lips together, you looked over once more. Eren's eyes weren't on you, but he was no longer typing on his keyboard. He sat still with his hands resting on the keys.

"God, are you that fucking desperate?" Eren spat. He never looked at you.

His words startled you but you couldn't stop yourself from nodding with furrowed eyebrows. "Eren, Please." You begged.

It was true. You were that desperate, and it pained you that he wasn't willing to help.

You looked absolutely pathetic–begging for God knows what. You were just mumbling whatever came to mind. You had no idea what you were begging for. Plead after plead fell from your mouth as you laid helplessly on the bed, fingers resting in your cunt.

With one hand, Eren was roughly pushing his headset back so that the unit could rest loosely around his neck. The hairs that were once tucked away by the headset fell in front of his face, messily covering his forehead in several dark brown strands of hair.

"Please what?" He closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands. He proceeded to massage his temples, displaying his annoyance. "Do you even know what you're begging for?" He continued. His words were sharp and curt.

"You." Was all you could muster out. It was weak and a slight waver could be detected in your voice.

Eren scoffed at your words. He thought you sounded utterly pitiful. "You're unbelievable.” He muttered under his breath.

"Please, Eren?" You begged profusely as you shifted on the bed so that you could be positioned on your knees. You pushed out your bottom lip and you put on your best puppy-dog eyes. Eren never thought you looked more pitiful. He almost wanted to laugh.

God, you were such a mess for him. You didn't even have to think twice before you were pushing yourself up from the bed in order to stumble over to where he sat once again. 

Before Eren could protest, you were dropping to your knees before him. He glanced down for a second, shooting you with a look of annoyance. Ignoring it, you leaned forward to prop yourself up a little higher on your knees. Two hands were quick to find themselves sliding up his thighs in order to play with the thick fabric of his shorts. 

"Can’t you ever just listen the first time?" He questioned as he roughly pushed you away. Your back hit a leg of the desk behind you. You winced as jolts of sharp pain surged through your backside. Even while frowning in pain, you couldn't deny how good his harsh words made you feel.

"Please just let me. I want to make you feel good, baby, that’s all. Please?" You begged. And God, he was right. You sounded so fucking desperate. It was almost pathetic, he thought so too.

You didn't give him a chance to say anything else, before he could, you were running a hand up his thigh to gently palm him through his shorts. He wasn't even hard. Obviously, you thought. After all, you were the only one who was craving this anyway. Eren couldn’t care less.

"Please?" You mumbled again as you dropped your head so that your face could hover over his crotch. Leaning forward a little more, you kissed him through his shorts as you ran your little fingers all along his thighs. Eren remained quiet with a stoic grimace on his face.

While reaching towards the waistband of his shorts, you looked up at him with desperate eyes. You pulled the elastic back a bit before slipping a hand inside to pull his cock free. Gently, you held him in your hand. He was warm and heavy. You wanted nothing more than to put your lips on it. God, you'd do anything.

"Please can I put it in my mouth?" You whined. "Please?"

You'd beg all day if it meant you got even half the chance to please Eren. You'd beg until you couldn't beg anymore. Pride isn't something that necessarily influenced your actions when it came to him. If anything, it's the last thing. Ever since the day you met Eren, you quickly learned that ruining your pride was the only means of getting your way with him. So that's why you'd do it again, and again, and again. All because the only thing you ever want to do is please him.

It's the only thing you're good for.

His attention was no longer on you as his eyes were trained on the screen once again. "If it'll get you to fucking behave, knock yourself out." As Eren spoke, he was simultaneously pulling the headset from around his neck to place it back onto his head, pushing the messy strands of hair back to their respective places.

That was the only thing you needed to hear. With that, you were already parting your lips to slip him between them.

You took in as much of him as you could, wasting no time to feel him in the back of your throat. God, and even like this, he was still so big. He always stretched your jaw out real nicely.

Taking a deep breath, you relaxed your jaw to allow more of him to fit into your mouth. You could already feel your eyes beginning to brim with thick tears as he hit the back of your throat.

Slowly, you bobbed your head up and down, taking in as much of him as possible. Using both hands, you sloppily stroked what couldn't fit. He filled your mouth up so fucking good, you could hardly breathe. That's what you wanted though. You'd suffocate if it meant you got even half the chance to please him.

You hollowed your cheeks so that you could have a tighter suction around him, much like a vise. Every now and then, you'd give yourself a break, you did so by releasing him with an obscene pop in order to catch your breath. As you took a moment to breathe, you never stopped stroking him.

You lifted your head momentarily to part your lips, allowing saliva to fall from your tongue onto Eren's cock. You watched carefully as your spit slowly dripped from the tip, all the way to the base.

Suddenly, a harsh hand was gripping at your hair, directing your gaze upward. "Don't do too much." Eren spoke through gritted teeth. His features, which were illuminated by the white light of the screen, were as stolid as ever. You couldn't stop yourself from nodding with furrowed eyebrows.

You muttered a quick apology as you searched for his eyes. With that, Eren was releasing his grip from you with a slight push. And just like that, his attention was no longer on you.

You lowered your head onto him once again, determined to please him just the way he wants. Gently, you took him into your hands as you slipped your tongue past your wet lips. You licked a long, ponderous strip from the base, all the way to the head of his pretty cock. It was so fucking pretty, it almost pained you.

"It's so pretty." You shamefully admitted. "I love how it feels in my mouth." You muttered a few more praising words before taking him whole again. You weren't very loud when you spoke, it was almost a whisper. You would hate to upset Eren even more than he already was, so you kept your comments to yourself.

While swallowing around him, you couldn't control the silent gags or the saliva slipping from the corners of your mouth. It slowly dripped from your mouth, down your chin, and all over Eren's lap. There's no doubt that he'd scold you about ruining his new shorts. But that's for a later time. Now, the only thing you could think about was feeling his warm, white seed in the back of your throat. That's the only thing you wanted.

The only sounds that could be heard were your muffled moans and the rapid clicking coming from the keyboard above you. 

Eren remained relatively quiet with the exception of an occasional hiss at the feeling of your teeth grazing his dick every now and then. The only other sound he made was the huff of an irritated breath just to express his annoyance even further.

The feeling of Eren in your mouth always made your stomach turn–the good kind. The kind when you’d have to squeeze your thighs together. The kind when you‘d curl your toes because you can feel him in every part of your body. The kind when you can feel the warm arousal seeping from your cunt, ruining your pretty laced underwear. And the kind when you can't help but to moan and whimper around him as you roll your hips against absolutely nothing but the thick air beneath you.

As you sat on your knees before him, you just couldn't sit still. The feeling of your wet little cunt rubbing against the fabric of your underwear had you on the verge of cumming just like that, untouched.

You could hardly focus on pleasing Eren with being so aroused like that. You found yourself struggling as you tried to multitask– ignoring the growing heat between your legs while also trying to get your disapproving lover off. It was a shame how quickly it took for you to direct the attention onto yourself when the whole reason you're in the situation in the first place is because you wanted to please him , not the other way around. But you just couldn't help yourself. How selfish of you.

You almost froze when you felt a warm, heavy hand on the back of your neck, guiding your movements. Directing your gaze upward, you were met with an unamused Eren who had dark, hooded eyes.

"Wanna suck my dick so fucking bad but can't even do it right." Eren shook his head in disapproval before sighing. "Want me to help you, hm?" He hummed as he ran his fingers through your hair. He proceeded to push the tousled strands out of the way, revealing your cock-drunken features to him.

Eren thought you looked a complete and utter mess. Disheveled strands of hair stuck to your forehead with the thin layer of sweat that sat there. The bottom half of your face was dripping in your own saliva. You had a faint streak of mascara just below your eyes. And your face was stuffed full of cock. 

He was being so sweet, but you knew it was feign. The tone in which he spoke was dripping in a false sense of concern.

You could only muffle a broken moan in response as you couldn't exactly speak, not with your mouth stuffed like that anyway.

"Yeah? You want my help? Is that it?" He questioned again, a slight coo decorating his words with a pretty little bow. As he spoke, he was simultaneously pulling you off of him by your hair so that you could properly face him. You took it as an opportunity to nod, muttering a quick yes , ready to accept whatever he gives you.

"Of course you want my fucking help." Was the last thing Eren said before he was readjusting his grip on your hair to roughly push your head down onto him, the action forcing a harsh gag out of you.

He was quick to pick up a merciless pace almost immediately, roughly pushing and pulling your head off of him. The grip he had on your hair was tight and heavy. With the way his fingers were haphazardly entangled within your roots, it was sure to be knotted beyond repair when he finished with you. You couldn’t find yourself to care.

Eren never told you, but he loved when you got like this– all desperate to please him. He'd never admit to it though. He loved fucking your throat until your mascara was dripping halfway down your pretty face. He loved when you’d gagged around him because he was just a little too big for your mouth. He loved when you'd beg to taste him. And he loved how much of a cock slut you'd get for him. He loved it all, but he would never tell you. Behind that callous facade, he just couldn't get enough of you. Of course you'd never know.

The gags that came from you were guttural. He had tears prickling in the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill and run all down your flushed cheeks.

Getting Eren off always turned you into a cock-drunk mess. So drunk to the point you couldn’t even register him bringing his free hand down to pinch your nose, completely depriving you of air. Panicking, you began to slap at his thighs as you felt your throat beginning to constrict around him. The tightening sensation is what elicited a groan of pleasure from deep within his chest.

The tears that sat so heavily in your eyes finally fell, coating your cheeks in the warm, salty substance. Your muffled sobs of pleasure and the lewd squelching sound coming from your mouth was enough to have Eren's stomach churning in arousal.

"Yeah, take it all you nasty bitch." Eren suddenly spoke through gritted teeth as he continued to use your mouth. Though it shouldn't have, his brash words had you rutting your cunt against the heel of your foot like a fucking dog. You have never wanted to cum so bad in your life.

With the help of your involuntary movements, the arousal that sat so thickly at your entrance slowly spread itself all over the expanse of your cunt. The way you were uncomfortably shifting around on your knees every now and then in attemps to relieve yourself forced your slick to create the messiest wet patch on your underwear. It left behind the cutest little stain on the fabric, leaving the material a little darker than before.

Eren quickly pulled himself out of your mouth and took his cock in his palm. He proceeded to rub himself across your face, spreading your saliva all over your features. Slowly, he dragged the tip of his cock from your wet mouth, to your cheeks, across your nose, and all the way to your forehead. He even took it upon himself to slap you across the face with it, forcing you to wince in pain.

“Mmm yeah, you like when I slap you in the face with my cock? Huh?” As Eren questioned you, he repeated the action a few more times– slowly dragging his shaft across your face, only to slap you with it seconds later. There was no doubt that your cheeks would be flushed with the most obnoxious shade of crimson when he finished with you.

You found yourself nodding with rapidity. You weren’t sure why, but the physical pain was enough to have you on the verge of cumming in your underwear.

“Yeah? You like that shit?” Eren allowed a throaty moan to slip past his lips. “Nasty bitch.” Was the last thing Eren muttered before he was shoving himself back into your mouth, eliciting a gag from you.

Without thinking, Eren began to thrust his hips upward, meeting your face halfway. It was involuntary, but he couldn't stop himself from doing it. He tried so hard to stifle the moans that rested so prominently in his chest. 

Every now and then, those unwarranted moans would slip past Eren's lips even though he tried his hardest to suppress them. The sounds that came from him went straight to your core, only adding to the building puddle of arousal between your legs.

God, it was so uncomfortable– sitting there before him with soiled underwear. The dull ache you felt deep in your core quickly grew irritating and you wanted nothing more than to relieve yourself.

You couldn't stop yourself from slipping a needy hand past the waistband of your thin underwear to touch yourself as you messily got your boyfriend off. The immediate sense of relief you felt as soon as your hand came into contact with your sopping cunt was peerless.

The moan that came from your occupied mouth was borderline pornographic. It was a muffled, high pitched moan. The kind of moan that takes its time to build up, deep within your chest, waiting until that perfect moment. It was one of those pathetic moans too– the kind when you can't be quiet even if you wanted to.

You could almost cry right then. You weren't sure if it was from the feeling of your fingers rubbing along your slick folds with a sense of urgency, or the fact that Eren was lodged in the back of your throat and you could hardly breathe. Maybe both perhaps. Whatever the reason was, you couldn't find yourself to complain, not that you wanted to anyway.

"This is the only thing you ever wanna do, huh?" As he questioned you, he never stopped bucking his hips into your mouth. "Suck my dick like a fucking whore?" He cocked his head to the right before continuing.

“Yeah, I bet you love sucking my dick, right?” He paused for a moment to allow a throaty groan to escape his open mouth, “You like making me feel good, is that it? Hm?”

Though Eren was well aware that you couldn't exactly speak, part of him was still expecting an answer. God, you tried so hard to respond to him. The only sounds you could make in response were incomplete moans and the sputter of you choking around him, but that's not what he wanted.

With a harsh hand, Eren was pulling you up by your hair once again, forcing your gaze onto his unsatisfied face. He wasn't pleased. "Answer me." He spoke through clenched teeth.

Almost immediately you found yourself nodding up at him, chanting small yeses and mhms in response. "Yes, I love it… I love it so much." You could feel more tears forming in your eyes as you replied.

His rough tone had your sopping walls pulsing around your fingers. It was all a bit much for your poor brain to handle. You could hardly think.

As you stared up at him, Eren's gradually tightening grip on your hair had you wincing in pain, but it was a pain that you didn't mind. Some sick part of you liked the pain to some extent– maybe you even got off to it. A bit of a masochist don't you think?

“I bet you would just love it if I fucked you too, wouldn’t you?” Eren couldn't even finish his sentence before you began nodding up at him with haste. In that moment, the only thing that occupied your foggy mind was the thought of him so deep inside of you as you laid beneath him so compliently like a good girl should. You wanted that more than anything. You wanted him more than anything.

“Yeah? Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?” Eren questioned as he placed a hand on your cheek, caressing the warm skin with his thumb.

You nodded once more.

What pained you is that he knew exactly what you wanted. Eren always knew, even if he pretended he didn’t. He wasn’t dumb, he just loved when you’d get so desperate to the point you can’t help but to beg for him. What an egotistic fuck.

“Yes please... I want you to fuck me, Eren.” You confirmed, shifting around uncomfortably as he continued to stroke your cheek. “Please?”

Eren didn’t respond. Instead, he removed his hand from your face in order to help you to your feet. Your hands fell back to grip onto the desk behind you and your knees buckled as you tried to regain your balance. He placed two seemingly reassuring hands on your waist to stabilize you.

Eren turned you around so that you could face his monitor. The features of your pretty face lit up from the bright light of the screen in front of you. He proceeded to roughly push your body forward, forcing you to fall onto the desk with a shallow gasp. Your face and clothed chest were now flush with the dark, polished wood.

With one hand, Eren was pushing your soiled underwear to the side, revealing your dripping cunt to him. With his other hand, he began slowly stroking his dick with the help of your saliva from earlier. He nudged the head against your entrance and sighed before speaking, “If I fuck you, I don’t wanna hear you. I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t even want you to look at me. You think you can listen to me for once and do that?”

You took a moment to process what he said. You could feel your heart sink in your chest as you tried to make sense of his harsh words. How were you ever going to stay quiet? Whenever Eren did fuck you, it was virtually impossible for you to even keep your mouth closed.

Before you could amass enough brainpower to respond, Eren was pulling you up from the desk by the thick neckline of your shirt, slightly choking you in the process.

He dropped his head low enough so that he could be level with your face. “Are you even comprehending what I’m saying to you right now? Or are you too much of a brainless slut to understand me?” His voice was sharper than a cleaver and his warm breath fanned across your face.

He was being awfully mean to you, but for some odd reason, you didn’t find yourself to mind it. If anything, it only helped turn you into the drunkest little slut for him.

“Yes… yes, I understand. Please… please just fuck me.” Your words were beginning to slur together as you spoke sporadically. You even felt yourself struggling to breathe. With that, Eren released his hold on your shirt, making you fall forward with a mild thud. Your face was now pressed against his keyboard.

For some unknown reason, begging for Eren always made your vision go blurry with thick tears. You were never sure if it was the result of desperation or just pure sexual avidity.

Eren took his dick in his hand and began rubbing the head all along your glistening folds, painfully slow. Without even realizing, you began involuntarily rolling your hips at the feeling of him. It helped ease the aching tension between your legs.

“Don’t move.” Eren spoke. Two heavy hands were coming down to grip at your hips in order to keep you still. You mumbled a weak apology, hoping that he’d come around to forgive you.

He moved his hands down just a bit so that they could rest on the ample skin of your ass. With both hands, he proceeded to spread you apart, putting your pussy on display for him even further.

No matter how much of a facade Eren put on before you, he would never be able to get over the sight of your pretty little pussy. It was just too good. Of course you’d never know.

“When I’m done with you, you’re gonna leave me alone. You got that?” Eren questioned as he simultaneously began pushing the tip of himself inside of you. You slowly nodded as your mouth fell open at the feeling of him.

A strong hand was coming down to entangle itself within your hair. That same hand was pulling at your roots, forcing your gaze upward, “Tell me that you understand.” Eren demanded. He wasn’t even halfway inside of you and you already found yourself struggling to speak. How pathetic.

“I… I understand. Just please…” Your sentence trailed off when you felt him push himself inside of you a little further. With his fingers still tucked in your hair, Eren proceeded to shove your face down onto the desk, smushing your cheek as he did so. “God, Eren… please.”

Though he couldn’t exactly see your face, Eren just knew you had the most pitiful look etched across all of your features. He knew because it’s the same exact look you’d give him every single time he was about to fuck you senseless. It was almost habitual.

Your eyebrows would knit together as if someone tied them up at the center and pulled them toward the ceiling with a microscopic string. Your wet lips would part just the slightest bit as drool would threaten to spill out the corners of your mouth. And your eyes wouldn’t only be glossed over with tears, but they’d also be glossed over with a look of raw desperation. Absolutely pitiful.

Before you could piece together another feasible thought, Eren was pushing himself the rest of the way inside of you without so much as a warning. Immediately, you found yourself squirming away from him as you were far too sensitive to take all of him so soon. What’s odd is that this is exactly what you asked for, so you’d think you’d be a little more appreciative, right?

Both of Eren’s hands were coming down once again to hold you in place. He had one hand on your waist, while the other was just a little further down, resting on the curve of your hip. The grip he had on you was heavy enough to leave the prettiest little marks for you to discover the next day.

While beginning to rock his hips into you, slow enough to have you on the verge of sobbing, Eren lowered his head so that it could hover over your own before speaking. “You wanted me to fuck you, right?” As he questioned you, he was starting to pick up his pace, quickening the thrust of his hips.

Your mouth sat open while small, untimed breaths fell from it, no other sound would form. With teary and crossed eyes, you nodded to the man above you.

“Then act like it.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

You slowly nodded once again.

As Eren pushed himself in and out of your cunt, you found it nearly impossible to keep quiet. Each time his pelvis met with the curve of your ass, you could feel him so fucking deep– so deep to the point you wanted nothing more than to cry out for him, but Eren wouldn’t like that and you would hate to further upset him. Instead, you just laid there before him, face pressed to the desk, with parted lips and a slack jaw.

The way his hips collided with your ass so roughly had you on the brink of cumming right then. It was far too soon and you knew it, but the feeling of your stomach clenching all the while your sopping walls pulsed around him had your mind going all fuzzy. If you weren’t mistaken, part of you swore you saw white splotches in your vision.

You wanted nothing more than to tell Eren how good he was making you feel, but he made it very clear that he didn’t want to hear you.

No matter how much Eren pretended he didn’t want to fuck you, he always did it so fucking well. The way his cock would graze against your slick walls with each thrust of his hips was always so perfect to say the absolute least. It always had your stomach churning in the thickest arousal.

Eren could almost cringe at how wet you were. The way your slick coated his cock in the shiniest, most glossiest layer had him wanting to scold you for it. He wasn’t completely sure why though. Truthfully, he never understood why you would get so wet for him when all he’d ever do was call you the meanest names.

Sometimes, Eren would feel bad for being so mean to you, but then he would notice how aroused his harsh words got you so it made him feel a bit better about it. He just couldn’t help but to be rude. Who could blame him anyway? You were always so fucking annoying when you’d get like this. He couldn’t help himself. He would do just about anything to shut you up. Ever since the day he met you, he quickly learned that fucking you was the only way you’d ever stay quiet.

He felt indescribably good, filling your pussy up to the fucking brim, but you needed so much more of him. You needed him so much deeper than what he was giving.

Without thinking, you began pushing back onto him, attempting to meet his thrusts halfway. You found yourself panting like a fucking dog as you took what you needed from him.

“Don’t fucking move, [your name].” With a deft hand, Eren was pushing down onto your lower back as an attempt to keep you grounded. You could hardly move with his hand there. That’s exactly what he wanted.

You couldn’t help the choked moans and whimpers that slipped past your lips. Moan after moan fell from your open mouth as Eren pushed himself into you. You never came to realize how much noise you were even making until one of Eren’s hands were coming down to wrap itself around your throat, lifting your body up from the desk.

“Eren… ‘Ren, please.” You gasped and sobbed to the man behind you as you felt his grip on your throat gradually tighten. Desperately, you reached up with both hands to grab at the wrist that choked you.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” He spat. With his free hand, Eren was peeling you off of him.

He had your backside pressed against his chest whilst he continued to fuck himself into you. With his face pressed to your neck and lips ghosting the shell of your ear, Eren spoke, “Do you remember me telling you that I didn’t want to hear you?”

You whispered a small yes as you nodded to him.

“Yeah? You remember that?” He questioned again, a slight coo dancing in his tone.

 You mumbled yet another yes in response.

“Then why the fuck can I hear you? Huh?” The tone in which he spoke had your stomach clenching and walls pulsing around him. You couldn’t help but to apologize to him. You felt terrible for disobeying, but it’s not like you meant to. It was his fault anyway. He knew you couldn’t stay quiet even if you wanted to.

With your throat still in Eren’s hand and your back to his chest, he began to fuck you harder. The soft skin of your ass would ripple with the force of each thrust. The sound was obscene. That was the only thing that could be heard, other than your shallow gasps of air and Eren’s heavy breathing from behind you. 

Every now and then, a grunt or a barely audible groan would erupt from deep within Eren’s chest. He didn’t mean for you to hear him, as he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of knowing that part of him was enjoying this. But you heard him, loud and clear.

Somehow, you managed to turn your head far enough to the side in an attempt to catch a quick glimpse of Eren. The sight you were met with was enough to have your legs trembling as they dangled from the desk, almost on the verge of giving out.

Each and every one of his admirable features was worth mentioning. It was the way his eyebrows furrowed together just the teeniest bit at the center. The way his forehead glistened in the thinnest layer of sweat. The way those messy strands of hair tried to peek through his headset. The way his abdomen would clench with every thrust of his hips. Even the way his mouth hung open just the slightest as unanticipated moans slipped from it. God, it was all worth mentioning.

Eren could swear on his life that he hated this, although you’d never believe him. That pure sight of him alone was more than enough evidence to prove that you weren’t the only one craving this. Eren craved it too. Maybe not nearly as much as you, but a small part of him didn’t mind it.

He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t enjoying this. He always enjoyed fucking himself into your sweet little pussy until your brain was nothing but mush. He loved it when you’d throw yourself at him so that he could use you like the little slut that you are. And most of all, he loved it when you’d disobey him so that he’d have an actual excuse to be mean to you.

Fuck, there’s nothing Eren loved more than being mean to his sweet little girlfriend. It’s the one thing that turned him on the absolute most without fail.

Eren must have felt your lingering gaze because the hand that was coming up to your face startled you half to death.

“You must like it when I’m mean to you, huh?” As he spoke, he was using a single hand to completely cover your mouth, nose, and eyes– not only muffling your moans, but blocking your vision and obstructing your breathing as well. His hand covered the entirety of your face. “Is that why you disobey me? Because you like when I treat you like shit?” He questioned you once more, jerking your face in aggression as he spoke.

You couldn’t stop yourself from nodding. Your salty tears and muffled sobs of pleasure were absorbed into his palm.

“I gave you a few simple instructions, yet you still managed to disobey every single one of them.” You whispered a barely audible apology only to be hushed by Eren. You heard him deeply sigh before readjusting himself behind you. He didn’t want to hear your apologies nor did he care. As a matter of fact, he couldn't care less.

You heard him shuffling around behind you in an attempt to find a new position. Eren pushed the desk chair to his side and proceeded to hike his right leg up, planting his foot on the chair’s cushion. He then readjusted his grip on your hips, his fingernails digging into the sensitive flesh. God, it stung so bad– almost to the point it felt good.

Eren pulled himself all the way out of you, the tip of himself resting just at your entrance. You almost wanted to frown at the loss of contact. With one of his hands, he took his cock and began rubbing the head along the expanse of your cunt, careful as to not miss a single part of you. He dragged himself from your clit, all the way down to your entrance again, pushing in the head just a bit, only to pull it out just as quickly. He did that a few times, seeing how long you could endure this before you would lose your mind.

It didn’t take long for you to start whining at the feeling of him. Eren wasn’t surprised. It hadn’t even been more than a few seconds before you started huffing irritated breaths, whimpering his name, and muttering all kinds of pathetic pleads.

“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to leave you like this, [your name].” As Eren spoke, he never stopped his tortuous movements. “You don’t want me to leave you like this, do you?” He continued as he ran a calloused hand down your back, tracing your spine. You immediately shook your head.

The way Eren had you nearly falling apart before him was almost sad. He had you like putty in his hands. You’d let him mold you into just about anything he wanted, whenever he wanted. You were always willing to do anything for that man. Not only was it pathetic, but it was miserable.

Eren pushed the head of himself inside of you once more before bottoming out in a single thrust. Almost immediately, he picked up the most merciless pace imaginable.

He was fucking you so good and hard, that your entire body would move with each thrust of his hips. The desk would creak just the slightest bit each time his pelvis met with the curve of your ass. With his leg hiked up on the chair like that, he was able to hit a spot so deep, you were afraid you’d cum before you even wanted to.

You could hear Eren’s shaky breaths and deep grunts from behind you. Everytime he went to inhale, his breath would hitch just the slightest bit in his throat. You even noticed the barely audible whimpers in each of his breaths. He only did that when he was about to cum. He thought you wouldn’t notice, but you did. You always noticed.

He felt so fucking good to the point you were a few more thrusts away from cumming. You began panting like a bitch in heat as you felt your walls closing around him. And though you were tightening around his dick, Eren’s thrusts never fluctuated. He held that same, cruel pace he began with, not faltering in the slightest.

You wanted to tell Eren that you were cumming. You really did, but you knew you couldn’t. All you could do was lay there and take all of him as you tried to stifle your moans and whimpers. It was hard– trying to remain quiet while on the brink of cumming. Of course Eren knew you were struggling, he just didn’t care.

Your poor brain couldn’t even register the harsh orgasm that coursed through your body. The feeling of your abdomen contracting and the fluttering of your soft walls around his cock made it nearly impossible for you to breathe. Your head felt warm and fuzzy as your long awaited orgasm finally washed over your limp body, leaving you a twitching, stuttering mess. That feeling would always be unmatched.

The force of Eren’s thrusts had your cum leaking out of you, creating the biggest mess. Your heavy release coated your cunt, the expanse of your ass, and Eren’s cock in a milky-white layer. Fuck, it was so messy.

Eren couldn’t help but to throw his head back as he let a guttural groan fall from his mouth. He allowed his head to dangle over his broad shoulders as he stared up at the ceiling. The feeling of you cumming around him made it extremely hard for even him to keep quiet. What a hypocrite.

“You think you deserve my cum?” Eren questioned. As he prompted you, he was directing his gaze down from the ceiling and onto your ruined body. You began nodding desperately. You wanted his cum more than anything. You needed it.

“Yeah? You think so?” Eren cooed. He pulled himself out of you to hastily stroke himself in his hand, his gaze fixated on your cunt. Your slick and viscous arousal coated both his cock and his palm in the messiest layer. You started mumbling small mhms and whimpers in response.

With his free hand, Eren pulled you up from the desk by your shirt and finally turned you around. As he did so, he never stopped stroking himself. You were finally able to get a decent look at him and God, he was so fucking fine. His face was dusted with the faintest shade of red, his forehead was sticky with beads of sweat, and his cock was dripping in your release. The headset that was once around his head wasn’t even there anymore, it was barely resting around his neck– dangerously close to falling off.

Eren brought that same hand up to your head, threading his fingers within your hair. With a single hand, he was pushing you to your knees. You fell to the floor with a loud thud. It didn’t take much resistance from you, if any at all. Your knees were far too weak for you to even attempt any form of defiance, not that you wanted to anyway.

You were now face to face with Eren’s cock.

A set of teary, doed eyes and knitted eyebrows were staring up at Eren as he sloppily stroked himself in front of your face. You sat on your knees before him, practically drooling like a fucking puppy ready to receive a treat.

“You want it?” Eren asked, cocking his head to the side, his thick fingers still tucked in your hair.

You nodded up at him. He knew what you wanted.

With his hand still on your head, Eren began to pull at your roots, forcing your gaze upward. He continued to stroke himself in front of you. He was so close to your face, you felt the head of his cock brush the tip of your nose.

“Oh fuck.” Eren silently cursed under his breath when he felt his stomach tightening at the same time his cock was twitching in his hand. As he felt himself nearing his orgasm, his grip on your hair only tightened, slowly forcing your head further back.

The sounds that came from him were guttural. He finally allowed those choked up moans and hitched breaths to fall freely from his mouth as he began to release himself. Warm, translucent ropes of cum were being released all over you. Your entire face was covered in it– your lips, your nose, your cheeks, and even your forehead was dripping in the sticky substance.

Eren pumped himself in his hand a few more times with slow, languid strokes before he began dragging his dripping tip across your face, spreading his seed. He dragged his cock from your cheek, across the bridge of your nose, all the way to the opposite side of your face before ending at your lips. He proceeded to push himself into your mouth one final time, forcing you to gag around him. He only laughed at your response.

Eren exhaled a sigh of exhaustion before pulling his shorts back up his thighs. The hand he used to stroke himself with was still wet with both of your cum, so Eren took it upon himself to wipe his hand on your shirt, staining the fabric with his seed. He made sure to look you in your eyes as he did so.

“Clean this shit up.” Was the last thing Eren said to you before he was sitting back down and pulling his headset from around his neck to place it back onto his head. He unpaused that stupid computer of his and just like that, his attention was no longer on you.

You never moved. You stayed still in the same exact position he left you. Your face felt all warm and sticky, but you didn’t mind it. If anything, you loved it. You loved how Eren’s cum felt as it dripped down your cheeks.

You loved it so much that you decided to take your index finger and swipe it across your face, collecting the sticky substance. You proceeded to push that very finger into your mouth, sucking him clean off the skin. You hummed to yourself in satisfaction as you tried to savor the taste of Eren on your tongue.

You were content– happy even. You got exactly what you wanted just like always. Eren could never say no to you no matter how hard he tried. But now that you’ve got what you so desperately craved, you’re going to leave Eren alone to play his game just like he asked you… right?

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