#and is a shameless flirt in general

[ultravioletbrit]

“honor” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 478 words

“Reg. You’re literally drooling.” Barty tells him, brushing the corner of Regulus’ mouth to prove his point. Regulus swats his hand away and continues to stare at James Potter.

“Can you blame me? I mean, look at him. And have you read his case studies? The man is brilliant.” Regulus says without looking at Barty.

“You had to drag me here against my will, of course I haven’t read them.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you not want to come and stare at an incredibly gorgeous, incredibly brilliant man for 2 hours?” Regulus finally tears his eyes away from James to glare at Barty.

“Alright, take it down a notch, he’s not that–” Barty stops mid-sentence to smirk at Regulus.

“What?”

“He’s coming over here.”

Regulus’ eyes go wide, and he just stares at Barty, not sure what to do. Barty, the asshole, grabs Regulus’ shoulder to spin him around and push him forward, nearly pushing him right into James Potter.

“Woah, you alright there?” James asks.

“Yes… I’m… you’re… I…” Regulus sputters as he gawks at James. He takes a deep breath then awkwardly reaches out to shake James’ hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.” Regulus says, trying to sound professional but it comes out a little breathy.

“Sir? I could get use to that.” James says with a wicked smirk and Regulus feels his entire face grow hot. “The pleasure’s all mine,…?”

“Regulus.” He says as James takes his hand.

Regulus glances down and when he looks back up, James makes direct eye contact with him. They gaze at each other for a moment, and something settles in Regulus; a confidence he didn’t know he had and he’s not sure where it came from. The corners of his lips turn up in a smile and he watches something shift in the way James is staring at him. James subtly runs his middle finger down Regulus’ palm as he lets go of his hand. Regulus has a sharp intake of breath but doesn’t break eye contact with James.

“Do you have plans after the lecture, Regulus?” James asks and his voice is almost sultry.

“No.” Regulus all but purrs.

“Do you want plans?”

“Yes.” Regulus smiles mischievously. “Sir.” He adds and his smile turns to a smirk.

James’ eyes grow hungry, and he runs his tongue along his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth. They hold each other’s heated gaze for several more moments before James breaks the silence.

“I’ll see you after the lecture, Regulus.” James whispers with a smile. Regulus smile back with a small nod and watches James walks to the front of the room.

Barty clears his throat breaking Regulus out of his daze. He had honestly forgotten Barty was even there.

“Mmm, I’m starting to see the appeal.” Barty says.

“Back off, Barty.” Regulus hisses and Barty just laughs as they go to find seats.

[yazmarina]

walk me through it

for the love circuit series

—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.

franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases

a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa

Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.

Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.

You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.

This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.

But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.

He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.

"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.

Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"

You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."

"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."

"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.

"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.

You can smell his perfume from where you stand.

"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.

"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."

Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."

"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.

You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.

"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.

The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.

That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.

Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.

So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.

And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.

"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.

"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.

You gulp. Franco smiles.

"Anything is possible this weekend."

-

"You broke the internet last night."

You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.

It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.

Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.

"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."

You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.

But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.

"Hi."

"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.

You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.

"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.

"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.

"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.

"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."

The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.

"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.

"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.

"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.

I will talk to you later.

Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.

-

Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.

P11.

Almost there.

-

"Hi. Come in."

Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.

"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.

Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.

"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.

"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.

Always straight to the point.

Like this morning.

You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.

You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.

Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉

It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.

You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.

Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?

You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.

You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀

It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.

Easy.

"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.

"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.

The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.

You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.

You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.

"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.

Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.

"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.

"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.

You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.

"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.

Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.

"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.

"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.

"Is that your camera?"

You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.

"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.

"Knock yourself out," you say.

Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.

"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.

"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.

You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.

"Just...touch yourself."

You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.

"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."

You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.

The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.

"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.

"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."

Click.

"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"

You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.

"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.

Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.

You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.

Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.

Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.

Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.

It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.

Oh, well.

Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.

Franco. Franco. Franco.

He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.

Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.

"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.

"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.

Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.

Franco chuckles. "Very."

[cabeswaterdrowned]

I don’t understand so many lines of thought certain people had going into this show but one of ones I understand least is people who thought they were going to watch the whole affair storyline unfold not only with no physical intimacy, but also no emphasis on them being attracted to each other, and also no one actively flirting with anyone else like????

[nnight-dances]

CASUAL

PAIRING: karina x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff, angst, smut (explicit, but not too much?)

TROPES: fwb to lovers except you're roommates and best friends, unrequited love but not really.

LISTEN TO: casual by chappell roan

NOTE: i may be having a bit of a military wife moment rn but i'm still a sapphic at heart yearning for something more... my first gay fic i've posted on this account yay! cannot reveal if ive been in a similar situation but you could say this is based on real life! whose life, i will not say. hope u enjoy and stay safe everyone <3

knee-deep in the [twin bed] and you're eating me out

you want to say you're in control when it happens, but you'd be a big fat liar if you did. truth be told, karina had you wrapped around her finger since she moved in. (in more ways than one, if you catch my drift.) 

you met her late freshman year in college when you shared a gender studies course with her – which alone would've been enough of a clue to which ways she swings, if not for the black leather jacket and unnecessary amount of rings she wore to class. she'd sat next to you the first week in and approached you after class. "this class is a bore," she said as a matter-of-factly, "wanna get coffee with me?" 

you'd agreed because you were mesmerized (even though secretly, that was the favorite course you took that year) and followed her into a cafe, letting her sweet talk you into all kinds of things from there. she had a big friend group which welcomed you generously when they found out you were friends with karina and eventually, that became your everyday life. 

you worked on papers sincerely while karina watched you with an unreadable glint (maybe it was unreadable, maybe you didn't want to read too much into it), swirling her untouched coffee. eventually one day, she asked you, "wanna be roommates next year?" 

that was karina. easy-going and confident. she didn't hesitate to ask you to do things with her, even if they were often bending the boundaries of what friends could do. exhibit a: she'd asked you to make out with her at a party just so she could shake off a creep. in general, she was touchier than the normal person, finding a way to cup your stomach under your shirt when you weren't looking. you get the idea. 

that's how when she moves into the same room as you sophomore year, you lost all sense of self and reality. you have to thank your mom who convinced you to arrive on campus a day earlier than most, so you could settle in without the bothersome crowd. 

you're in the middle of fixing a poster of your favorite band, the strokes, in the wall when she lets herself in with a, "you're already here, jagiya!" you almost lose your footing on your chair in order to face her, heart already a fluttering mess thanks to her shameless flirting. 

"karina!" you call out, thrilled to see your friends, complications aside. you step down carefully before throwing yourself in her waiting arms. "you're here earlier than i thought."

she pulls away with a devilish grin, "missed you too much so i came early." she looks around the room, "i see you've already made this place home."

you smile, unsettled by the way she's still holding you in her arms, your bodies attached at the hip as she takes in her home for the next year. she smells like she always does: like grapefruit and spicy cedar. you feel relaxed in her embrace, taking in her appearance. she's wearing a cropped tank with a large flannel that slips off her shoulder thanks to the heavy tote she carries.

with a sigh, you take the tote off her. "your hair grew longer," you comment as you place the bag on her desk. karina does a little spin for you, giving a full view of the wavy locks that came all the way to her navel. it only made her that much more charming (you couldn't resist wanting to know what it would feel like to run your fingers through them). 

you watch as karina lugs all her stuff into the room, refusing your help with a strict look. "can't have you spraining something already, jagiya," she quips and that's all it takes for you to sit back obediently. she takes off her flannel, letting you take in her arms. was it just you or did her biceps get bigger? (it wasn't just you. karina spent her summer the gym rat way.)

"you barely have any stuff…" you murmur mindlessly when she's nearly done in half an hour. for reference, it took you three whole hours for two days to set your stuff in place.

"you just have a lot of stuff," karina laughs, closing her closet with a satisfied clap. "thoughts on ordering in for din'?"

you raise a brow, "shouldn't we at least go see if everyone's back?"

she shrugs, "we can just go after we eat." she approaches your bed, resting her forearms next to you. "come on, i don't feel like eating that prison food just yet."

despite karina's exaggeration (your dining hall makes perfectly edible food), you let karina order for you. who are you kidding? the thought of sharing a meal with your newly established roommate in your new room on your first day together… it was sweet, you had to admit. so you give in and tell karina exactly what toppings you want on your bowl. 

but where you had expected to bond in all kinds of cozy ways with karina, the night quickly an unexpected turn. you're not sure how it happens but you end up caged under karina's body on your bed. her hot breath is hitting your face, "you got even prettier over the summer, huh?"

her words make it harder to think. to think about how this your best friend slash roommate slash the person you would do anything for. fuck, it's too late and you're too helpless when it comes to her. karina's already sliding her hand down your stomach, eliciting a mewl of her name from your throat. 

she looks pleased, chesire grin lighting up her face when she reaches your panties. "mhm, karina–" you claw at her shoulder when a cold finger meets your slick folds. she kisses your cheek and then your mouth, so strong that you can't do anything but hold her closer to your chest till she's ripping a scream from you. 

"karina, what are we doing?" you cry out, still coming down from your orgasm. what the fuck, this not a situation to be with your roommate.

"what?" she whispers, lips attached to your neck without a care in the world, "i'm just doing what i've been wanting to all summer."

"okay, that's enough," you push her off until you're both sat. you're breathless so it doesn't help the gravity of the glare you hold karina captive under. she sits back on her palms, eyes hooded. 

"we're friends," you start and sensing the protest rising in her, you hold up a hand, "and roommates. you know what they say about that, don't you?"

"don't shit where you eat," she deadpans, "but i don't care. i'm not shitting anywhere. i like you, you like me. that's why we're friends. if we want to fuck around a little, what's the big deal?"

you contain a scoff at how unbothered she is. at the same time, her words stab you in the heart, the subtle friendzoning nature of them not going unnoticed (that's why we're friends? what if you wanted to be more?)

"listen, jagiya," karina shifts dangerously closer, a thumb wiping away the sweat on your lip. "it's chill. we don't have to if you don't want to. but i'll tell you right now; i want to do things with you."

"things?" you breathe even though you know you shouldn't fall into her trap.

"yeah," she caresses your cheek, licking her lips, "want to kiss you. make you come. that sort of thing."

you fall against her weakly, feeling the soft strands of her hair envelope you like a dream. with your eyes closed, all you can feel is warmth of her body and none of the cold of her words (kiss, fuck, chill. no love.) 

"only if you let me eat you out, too," you finally murmur against her skin. feel her shake with laughter.

"thought you'd never ask."

you wake up in karina's arms. she'd dozed off in your bed as if hers wasn't two hops away. the thoughts makes you flushed (despite everything) and you turn around to face her. she's still asleep, peaceful as ever. you trace the mole below her lips, envious of how little she was attached to you.

not to drown yourself in self-pity, you had always been too attached to karina for your own good. a week into being friends with her, you would jump at a text from her, dropping everything to meet at her the cafe she had wanted to try or to help her get ready for a party. 

but it wasn't without reason. she was sweet to you, genuinely. karina sensed your moods smoothly, knowing when your silence was more than comfortable and when your drunk crying meant you were actually upset over something. she listened to you, no matter how little you claimed the problem to be, her reliable shoulder always yours when you were in trouble.

so you couldn't blame the butterflies in your stomach at waking up with her. right?

"we never made it to meeting our friends," karina mumbles through a yawn later. you're both in the middle of getting ready for the day, thankfully still a grace day before classes start. 

"you clearly had other plans," you purse your lips in the mirror, working on fixing a bump in your hair. stupid karina and her arm under your head all night. 

she comes up behind you with a playful smile, taking the brush from your hands to rake it through your hair herself. "you say that like you didn't have fun," she says. she brings your hair into a bun, taking a hairtie off her wrist to secure it in place. patting your head with eyes on you in the mirror, "there. you look cute."

you heave a deep sigh at the motions that stir up at her actions, sliding away to pretend to busy yourself with your bag. "we should go meet them today," you say, "or they might declare us dead."

"definitely," karina laughs.

meeting your friends helps you a little. maybe it's because you're seeing them after so long or maybe it's just the fact that you have normal friend feelings for them. but it's nice, you can lose yourself in a nonsense conversation with seungkwan about your recently acquired obsessions with various mobile games.

he's in the middle of offering to show you his brand-new coffee machine when karina shouts, "guys! gather up! minjeongie is driving us to get ice-cream! on her!"

you spot the short blonde attacks on karina at the presumably false declaration. your rommate dodges well, bent in a fit of laughter at minjeong's tantrum. "okay, i lied! everyone buy your own ice-cream."

as it turns out, minjeong's car is definitely not big enough to fit all 8 of your friends. "looks like we're fighting it out the fairest way," seowon declares, readying her fist for rock paper scissors. 

"since only five of us can go," karina starts, somehow finding her way next to your side. you shiver when her hands clasps yours. "minjeong, y/n, and i are definitely going."

you watch in shock as everyone wreaks havoc at her words. "now why would we allow that–"

"see, it's technically just two seats taken," she explains calmly, "y/n's sitting on my lap anyway." you gape at her audacity as she holds up your intertwined hands, like a wedding announcement.

you try to weasel out of her grip, mumbling, "that's fine. i don't really want to go–"

"what? of course you do," karina's hand tightens and you curse her strength, "you love ice-cream, jagiya. come on. let's go."

your friends seem dubious of the interaction but with a few statements along the lines of they're in their honeymoon phase as roomies, they return to the rock-paper-scissors battle at hand, now the stakes reduced to four seats now. 

"calling shotgun by the way!" karina calls as she pulls you after. you don't know what to say honestly, overwhelmed by her hand in yours. you had expected her to pretend things were the same as always but clearly not: you had never gone as far to sit in her lap with your friends around (alone was a different story. but you swear you'd only ended up in her lap because she'd wanted to hug you through your breakup with your ex.) 

"karina, you're crazy," you tell her, finally shaking your hand free. you cross your arms and karina simply takes a chug of water from the brita in geum's minifridge. 

"why? because i volunteered my lap so we'd get to go?"

before you can really give her a piece of your mind, minjeong interrupts. "looks like they figured out the winners. we're leaving in the next five minutes or the offer's off the table."

– 

two weeks and your mom invites me to [lunch]

"y/n, it's so nice to see you again," karina's mom is saying, sliding a menu toward you. thanksgiving week was around which meant parents were abundant on campus these days. it also meant your own mom couldn't make it because she was swamped with work, no thanks to her job as an on-field reporter. 

"of course, you've lost so much weight since we last met, eommeoni," you smile.

this is fine for the most part of it. you genuinely enjoy karina's mom's company. she's kind and sincere, always bringing a gift for you along with karina and treating you like her own. but this time around it's different because it's the first time you've been sleeping with her daughter.

in fact, just that morning, karina had kept you in bed longer than usual, complaining because you had gone to bed earlier than usual. it had been part of your plan to keep your conscience clean for when you met her mother, to make sure you didn't lose her respect. but being the nefarious idiot she was, karina had crawled up your torso, eyes going sweet at you, "please, just once?"

so now you had a dirtier conscience than usual, having been panting in karina's lap just hours before this lunch. 

but even if you tried to maintain composure in front of her mom, karina made it impossible. she slid close to your shoulder, hand splayed across your bare thigh (curse you and your decision to wear your sundress out today). it's honestly harmless and even excusable as a friendly gesture, but ever so occassionally, her hand climbs up, reaching closer and closer to a position that was far from appropriate.

"so tell me, do you two have any classes together this semester?" karina's mom asks you between mouthfuls of rice. you take the chance to peel karina's hand off but it ends up at your knee like a magnet. 

"not really," karina answers easily as if unaware of the power struggle going under the table. probably because she was winning by a mile. 

"i told karina she should take an elective with me but she refused," you complain, deciding if this was the way you could hit back then so be it.

"i think you forgot to mention it was an economics elective," she corrects you, hand basically clawing at your inner thight by now. you shift uneasily and karina's mom laughs.

"you know jimin," she shakes her head, "she doesn't take the serious courses. only painting all day long."

"eomma," karina groans, "how many times do i have to tell you? it's not just painting. i'm an arts major. that's like the second hardest major at this school."

"really? what's the hardest major?" (the only right question for a mother to ask.)

the rest of the lunch goes by quickly, fortunately for you. you're the first out the door, eager to put some distance between you and karina. you pretend to fan yourself out of the hot mess she's made of you.

"i have to say," karina's mom says as she gets ready to leave, "you two seem to have gotten closer since you started rooming together."

"really?" karina wonders as if clueless to the arm around your shoulder, where it had been the whole walk back to campus from the restaurant. (insufferable, you whisper to her. cute, she accuses you.)

"thanks for sticking next to her, y/n. who knows where my little girl would be without you?"

you brush of karina's mom's words of flattery, not voicing the thoughts that arise. where would i be without your daughter? 

– 

i know what you tell [our] friends

imagining a life without karina becomes terribly real when it becomes clear to you that karina truly has no intentions of treating as anything more than a friend who she sleeps with and not just as roommates. 

it's a cold slap of reality that you finally feel one day when you're eating with minjeong and seungkwan. karina's next to you, like she so often is, hand on your elbow for no good reason.

"so everyone's been wondering…" minjeong starts to say and seungkwan shoots her a glare, realizing where this was going.

"...are you two a thing?" she points to the point of contact between you and karina.

"what?" you squeak, pulling away at the call-out. but your mind goes blank, all the excuses you had practiced in your head deserting you. you had expected someone to catch on sooner or later, but somehow right now all you can think of is how you already miss karina's touch. i'm in love with her, it occurs to you to say. (wait, you love her? you wonder distantly as if the answer hadn't been crystal clear the minute she crossed lines with you.)

karina shrugs, "we're fucking. but it's casual. no attachment or anything." she adds with an arm around you, "just girls being girls, right?"

you muster out a laugh to agree with her, ignoring the concerned look seungkwan pins you with. minjeong seems convinced though, "no way! you're sleeping together? i guess it must be convenient… you live together."

"yeah, you could say that," this time it's you responding, swallowing the tremble in your throat. you'd rather die than let karina get a whiff of your true feelings. you stand up.

 "it's easy." it's the hardest. "not a big deal." you thought about it every waking second. "i have class now though. see you guys later." 

you did not have class. you ran to the nearest bathroom stall to lock yourself in and let out the sobs that had been threatening your system for the past three weeks. you make sure nobody can hear you and then wipe your tears with the spare tissues you carry in your bag. 

you leave, hoping nobody notices your red eyes. 

that night, you go to your room later than usual, counting on karina to be asleep. you should know better though because she's up, in nothing but her night shorts, sitting on your bed. 

it almost frustrates you for a moment, the sight of her curled up so comfortably on your bed like you were lovers. but you weren't. you weren't even close. but she perks up like maybe you are, calling out your name sweetly, "you're so late today. is everything okay?"

"yeah," you say, not making eye-contact for too long as you rest your bag on your desk. you contemplate leaving the room just so you didn't have to feel this hot volcano erupt in your chest. but instead, you undress, aware of karina's unwavering gaze. you make sure to slip off your pants and put on a baggy shirt. no shorts, like karina liked.

"we're a fully dressed person put together," she liked to joke when she'd bring your bodies close. you laughed along but all you wanted was to actually be one person with her. maybe that would justify why you were so attracted to her. 

"come on,," she coos when you jump into bed. "i know something's wrong. your eyes are red. your shoulders heavy."

"can't lie for one second with you, can i?" you sigh into her skin when she hugs you. 

"sorry, jagiya. maybe if i was a man, you could get away with it."

maybe that would make it easier. if one of you was a man. at least then someone would bat an eye at the concept of a no strings attached situationship between best friends. you were practically begging for someone to object to its apparently platonic nature. (you were begging yourself.)

"i didn't even shower," you complain when she explores your bare stomach with her fingers.

"it's fine. we'll just take one in the morning."

she holds you to the promise, waking you up half an hour earlier than usual just so she could drag you into the shower. two girls showering together, a sight nobody would see because it was dead quiet until an hour from now. 

– 

i try to be the chill girl 

you knew it was too good to be true, your friends-with-benefit situation with karina. but now that your feelings are actually catching up to you, you can barely hold in the tears that overwhelm you when you look at her.

then, when you finally decide to suck it up and show up to dinner with your friends, it all goes south. thanks to some dumb group project karina's doing, a guy named taeyong was at your table. you knew him by name from college gossip. he was fit to be the protagonist of a rom-com, nice guy with the looks to go with it and he was friendly, fitting right in with the group of friends. 

bitterly, you reflect on how long it had taken you, in comparison, to warm up to everyone. a month, maybe? plus, he looked perfect next to karina, their unusually good looks matching each other's quality.

you're not the only thinking that because geum pipes up, "you two look good together! when's the wedding?"

seowon hits his arm though most of the people on the table join in laughter. (you don't.) "come on, you can't force it, geum," she says, "they're clearly still getting to know each other."

"so it'll be official in say, a week from now?" minjeong teases, earning herself a blush from taeyong. karina is unruffled but she does smile a little at the teasing comments, side-eyeing the boy next to her.

right. they did look good together. 

much to your discomfort, karina and taeyong only seem to become closer, with the latter frequenting your table at every meal. he assimilated easily with the group, already circulating inside jokes that you were conveniently not a part of.

speaking of which you were circulating a word tornado yourself: casual, no attachement, chill, convenient, easy… not a big deal. as taeyong became a regular with your friends, you became increasingly absent, coming up with excuses to take your meals at much earlier or later hours.

you're officially spiraling, doing your best to avoid karina. but avoiding karina meant avoiding your friends. it was a harsh truth but you came to realize you were only friends with them because of her and if you decided to break things off with her, you'd also end up a loner.

it was a cold, miserable place to be in, your mind. you left your room early and came back late to karina asleep. she'd tried to stay up for your sake a few times but you'd made your arrivals later and later, until she gave up and went to sleep. 

you know you can only avoid her for so long before she caught you and grilled you but for now, you just had to come up with a way to keep yourself occupied. that afternoon, you get a text from her, asking to talk to you after dinner. you leave her on read for hours before texting back a quick "sure," afraid to go too far. you may be mad at karina for treating you in ways that left you confused, but you didn't actualy want to hurt her. 

but come the time when finally face her and you realize it may be too late. 

"so… why exactly have you been avoiding me?" more than anything, karina's voice is weary. she appears worried when you first take a seat across from her but when you don't look like you're in actual physical pain, her expression morphs into one of frustration.

"i'm not," you sigh, "i'm just busy."

"busy during every single meal? busy enough to leave before i wake up?"

"i'm taking more classes than usual," you say and though it's the truth, it's far from being the reason why you were acting this way. karina seems to know this. 

"i'm taking an art class that has me staying back in the studio till 11," she tells you. only then, you notice the black charcoal marking her cheek. "but i still come home."

"sorry," you mumble, averting your gaze. "i'm not– you didn't do anything. i'm just… thinking through some things. i'll come back to the room earlier today."

"great, so now we're not close enough for you to share your thoughts with me?" this time karina actually sounds hurt. it was the indication of your friendship finally falling apart that has her sitting forward, eyes blinking in panic. "y/n, what the fuck?"

what the fuck, indeed. you try your best to reassure karina but it seems like she's done talking to you after that point so you see yourself out. a small part of you manages to wonder whose jacket was laid across the chair next to her. taeyong?

you find the answer the hard way when you come back to your room at a reasonable hour for the first time in a week. only to run into taeyong himself.

he seems like he's in a hurry when you step in, rushing to put his jacket on (yes, the jacket that you saw next to karina earlier today) and avoiding your gaze. you don't even pretend to seem pleased encounter him there.

you fix your glare on karina, kneeling on her bed. she lets out a sigh when she sees you. "you're finally back."

you watch as taeyong leaves without a goodbye and you scoff, "i feel like i interrupted something. maybe i shouldn't have come back." you feel the blood rush to your head, all your convictions to lay out your unreciprocated feelings out to karina because she deserved an explanation.

right now, you just feel empty. and mad. so as soon as you rest your bag, you get to changing. but not into your night clothes.

"are you going somewhere?"

"...maybe."

"and what happened to our talk earlier?"

with a huff of disbelief, you throw your sweaty shirt on your bedroom floor. "well, i decided it meant nothing when i saw that guy leaving our room."

"taeyong?" karina looks baffled and you want to shake some sense into her so bad.

"yeah, i don't know, karina, the thought of you already replacing me with some dude–" you cut yourself off when your voice breaks. "it's not a great feeling. so i'm just gonna leave."

"wait, what?" karina jumps out of her bed. "is this what you've been mad about all week?"

you pause your angry movements about your space when she comes close to you, touching your arm, first contact in days. you breathe unevenly, "karina, i just need some time–"

"are you crying, jagiya?"

you want to say it's stupid nickname that gets to your nerves finally breaking your walls down. but really, it's the warmth in her tone, the sound of her breath hitting your ear so close. you'd missed karina. that's why you end up sobbing, arms finding her neck to support you. 

"karina, i'm–" she rubs your back calmly through your sobs. "i'm sorry."

"what's wrong, baby? why are you crying? please, talk to me."

"i think… i'm in love with you."

your confession is quiet, just like your love for karina has always been. actually no, that's what you want to think but no, your love is loud: you look for her in every room you enter, hands already welcoming hers when she runs over to you. you're the first to laugh at her jokes, no matter how nonsensical or how many times she's told them to you. you may be a flustered mess when things got intimate, but you always made sure karina felt good, too – going far beyond your comfort zone to please her.

karina pulls away with a soft gasp. "that's not what i expected you to say."

"i know," you sniffle. "but it's been killing me. i know you wanted to keep things casual. and i know you and taeyong are–"

"okay, just so we're clear for once and for all– there is nothing between me and taeyong."

you freeze in shock, having been rock-solid in your assumption of their relationship. "what?"

"come on, i barely know the guy. but apparently, everyone's teasing got to his head," karina sighs, "he came here to confess to me earlier today. and i rejected him."

now his urgency to leave the room makes even more sense, you realize slowly. but you realize another thing: karina had looked cold when you'd entered, ending things with him clearly. yet, here you were, standing with her arms around your waist as if you hadn't declared your love for her.

"...and?" you prod her, biting your lip hopefully.

"and?" karina echoes you, eyes locking in yours to understand your hint. "oh, you wanna know how i feel?"

you nod coyly, a stray tear falling down your cheek as if on cue. 

"well, let's start with a recap of this week. you ignored me so i felt like shit for most of it. and then you ignored me some more and i had to go to sleep lonely and sad. then, you stopped showing for meals so i didn't even want to eat anymore. what happened next? oh right, this evening. i had to practically beg you to talk to me–"

"okay, i get the idea!" you stop her with a groan, "i'm sorry, but i clearly had good reason to act the way i did."

"did you?" karina is suddenly holding your face, smiling turning bittersweet. "you idiot."

"huh?"

"i wanted to keep things casual because i wasn't sure how you felt about me. i wanted you to keep your options open till someone who you actually liked came along–"

"but–"

"this was long before i knew you were into me like that. you're really hard to read, you know? but yeah, i kept things casual because i'm selfish. i wanted to sleep with the girl i love without losing her friendship. i was obviously an–"

"idiot!" you hit karina's arm repeatedly at her revelation, tears filling up your vision yet again. "you love me?! why would you do that to me, then? are you–"

karina catches your fists in her with a heave, "i know, i know. i'm sorry, jagiya. but–" she brings your first to her chest, exposed by the deep neck of the tank she wore to sleep. "i'm serious about you, okay? i didn't want to gamble someone i cherished over some fucking around."

your body feels weak now that the truth is out in the open. you lean into karina. "you're so mean," you say into her neck, "i thought… you were chill."

she laughs at your complaint, "sorry. i'm dumb. dumb in love?"

you let karina coax you into her bed that night, kissing your body free of the tension you'd carried all that week like she was nursing you back to health. you can't help the tears that escape at her sweet touch, not new for her by any means – but different for you nevertheless, now that you knew how she felt. later that night, when you're falling asleep in her arms, in her twin bed this time, you feel her snuggle closer. warm nose against your cold cheek, she kisses you goodnight. (and a soft love you that you can barely distinguish from a dream.)

[kissatoru]

𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

content · NSFW MDNI, bratty sub!satoru, afab!satoru, amab!gn!reader, dom!reader, d/s dynamics, restraints, pussyjob, that good old praise-degradation combo, thigh-fucking, pet names (doll, darling, sweetheart), fingering, squirting, oral (f! receiving), overstimuation

wc · 2.4k

Satoru loves punishments.

Overstimulation, edging, spanking... they all wear the same thin veil of the word ‘punishment’ but to Satoru they are anything but. He knows that he shouldn’t be trying to get punished on purpose, but who can blame him when your punishments are always so sweet? You always give him what he wants in the end, which is what you both want, really. That’s why he’s never worried when you threaten to ‘teach him a lesson’ or other such things, because the truth is they never taught him anything except that he loves punishments.

Well, until now, that is.

Because now he’s on his back, wrists secured to the headboard by handcuffs and legs bent all the way up his torso. His head thrashes in different directions, unable to decide whether to look down at the cock sliding between his folds, hoping that he might be able to will it inside of him with his quivering lip and puppy dog eyes or sheer force of will, or squeeze his eyes shut to avoid the sight of you being so close yet so purposely far from where you wants you.

“Ohh my god, please,” Satoru whines, yanking on the cuffs and trying to move his hips up. “Please, just– fuck, just put it in!”

You scoff and dig your nails into the pale flesh of his thighs. “Don’t forget what got you here in the first place, slut,” you snarl. “You’re only getting as much as I want you to get and nothing more.”

Satoru flops his head back, milky white hair sticking in sweat-slick swirls on his forehead. “I know, I’m sorry! I really am, okay?” he mumbles, kneading his pink lips together to fight back a moan, or maybe a sob. “I promise I won’t do it again, just–” A sharp inhale, followed by a soft keen. “Just please put it in. I need it... so bad.”

“You should have thought about that before letting that fan flirt with you,” you say, almost laughing. “Honestly, you’re so fucking shameless sometimes, ‘Toru. You think I don’t know you do that shit on purpose? You really think I believe you when you say you won’t do it again?”

He smirks, as if your questions are a challenge, and opens his mouth to answer — he really doesn’t know when to quit, you think, or maybe he does, and he just enjoys pushing you that bit further anyway — but you let go of one of his legs and seal his lips shut behind your palm before he can speak.

“I know you don’t. I know you just think I’ll play along with your little games as long as you keep giving me the same boring apology and a few pretty crocodile tears.” You lean in close to him, at the same time, pushing your hips forward and grazing Satoru’s clit, making him moan into your hand. “But I’m not in the mood to play anymore, Satoru.” You watch as his expression morphs from dazed to alert, how it falters and his eyes tremble like ripples through water at your dark tone. “I want to make you mean your promises and sorry’s,” you say quietly, your hand sliding down his jaw to rest around his neck as a warning, “I want to give you something to really cry about.”

And then you’re shutting the gap between you with a hard kiss, full of tongue and desperation, so passionate and addictive that it’s nothing short of evil how you break it in mere seconds, leaving behind a breathless, pouty Satoru. You just smile at him and drive your hips slowly forward, the movement smooth and easy with Satoru’s slick.

You set a pace that’s just enough to tilt him in the general direction of pleasure, but never quite bring him there. The head of your cock bumps against the underside of Satoru’s clit on almost every thrust and all he can do is cry out, his back arching weakly and his arms pulling taut in the air against the handcuffs that bind him, at the fleeting spark of euphoria that zaps through him. It’s good yet not nearly enough to get him any closer to coming, and bucking his hips up in search of that spark is not only useless, but surely pathetic, if the way your cruel gaze glints is any indication.

His thighs can only twitch in your grasp like a scared animal; inward, outward, like they can’t decide whether they want to close or spread wider for you. You don’t really give him a choice though; you just bend both of those long legs of his further back, so he’s gently angled toward the ceiling, and each tantalising slide of your cock through his rosy, wet lips causes the head to catch against his entrance. A few times, it even nudges inside for a single blissful second, and Satoru chokes, but never manages to let out anything more before that second is over and that brief feeling of his walls stretching around you vanishes, like a too-good-to-be-true mirage in a neverending desert.

Satoru’s mind and body go numb with the endlessness of it all. He begs and wails for a while, but those moments of fruitless pleading have long passed. Now, he is all quiet pants and throaty moans that grow louder with every small wave of flickering ecstasy. Damp stains paint the pillows a darker shade on either side of Satoru’s face, where he’s been tucking away his drool and tear-soaked face. He feels like a toy, an object for your pleasure, and he’d love it if it wasn’t for the fact that he isn’t getting anything from it.

Suddenly, you grab his knees and hoist them over your shoulder, which abruptly snaps your pliant boyfriend out of his trance. His head turns to look at you, the haze clearing up, now replaced with hope and an eager desire twinkling in his owlish blue eyes.

“Don’t get too excited now, sweetheart,” you say, smirking and patting the side of his ass. “Squeeze your thighs together, alright? Nice and tight.”

And despite everything, despite all you’ve put him through already, Satoru still manages to find the courage, the audacity to grin right then, toothy and daring and insufferable. “And if I do, will you finally put that cock to some use and fuck–”

You pinch his clit and immediately, his words melt into nonsense and his thighs clamp shut around your hand.

“There you go.” You hum and push your cock through a small gap between his full thighs, which is easy enough with how drenched both you and him are. “Good boy. Keep them together for me, just like that, that’s perfect.”

Satoru lets out a breathy whimper as you start to fuck his thighs. He grows delirious with every thrust, the way your length rubs across his swollen clit ever so slightly. He’s so pent up at this point that it might be enough to make him come, he thinks, but as you keep going, increasing your pace and the grip around his legs, he only ever gets as far as halfway. He’s wet and hot and shaking but by the time you’re coming, Satoru is closer to tears than he is to an orgasm.

Your hands tighten around Satoru’s legs for a moment, as your high seizes your body and the last of your cum sputters across his belly, before finally loosening and letting go. His legs drop and fall open, giving you a perfect view of Satoru’s messy pussy and the little puddle on the sheets under it. Beneath your heavy gaze, it seems to pulse and blush, and Satoru’s legs attempt to shut and hide it, but with a single push they’re falling back down and staying there, likely too weak to try again. It almost makes you hard again.

“Should’ve been inside,” Satoru grumbles.

You roll your eyes. “Could have, ‘Toru. Not should, could,” you correct. “I could have fucked you and came inside, had you not been such a fucking brat.” You emphasise your words with a light, playful flick to his inner thigh.

Satoru ignores you and pouts, not meeting your eyes. “You’re mean,” he says under his breath, but the blush spilling from his cheeks to his neck says that he might not be complaining.

You chuckle and lean over him, running your hands up his thighs. “Only when you’re bad, darling,” you whisper, trailing kisses up his ribs and nuzzling the soft skin. For a moment, you don’t say anything else. Just lay there, listening to Satoru’s still rabbit-fast heartbeat.

“Though I suppose,” you say, one hand sliding up to his chest, “you’ve been quite good at taking your punishment...”

Electricity runs down to Satoru’s core and his breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t dare to say anything, in case you change your mind.

You sit up, and your eyes are on him as you drag your fingers through the ropes of cum painted on his abdomen, collecting it and leaving satoru’s muscles trembling in suspense. He watches you pull away your fingers while your other hand tugs on his folds. The cool air on his warm cunt makes it twitch. You languidly wipe your cum on it and spread it, down to his hole. The movement and its implications are enough to have Satoru’s breathing stutter and his legs jump.

His head tosses back when you finally slip a finger inside him. You start pumping quickly after and he moans in time with your steady pace. A second digit soon joins the first, and Satoru begins to aid your motions with his own, rolling his hips down, gasping, desperate, frantic.

“Slow down, baby,” you coo, but Satoru doesn’t listen, too lost in the throes of his pleasure, and only bucks his hips more violently. Your other hand grabs and presses it into the mattress, but when that doesn’t stop him, you pull your fingers out entirely.

“Nooo, no, no,” Satoru cries. “I was close, please, hurry! Put them back in, please–”

“Just because I’m being nice, doesn’t mean you can ignore me,” you interrupt. “It would be a shame if after all this, you didn’t get to come, don’t you think, ‘Toru?”

The realisation seems to materialise in his eyes and he rushes to nod his head.

You hum. “Then be good and listen.” And with that, your fingers are sliding back into him. He keens when you move them, trembling from head to toe with the effort of staying still. It’s slow, at first, but increasing in pace. It doesn’t take long at all for satoru to return to where he was, that teetering edge, the one weakness, the one thing that can break the strongest sorcerer in the world.

His pale skin and even paler hair both shimmer with sweat like moonlight while his feathery white lashes sit on his flushed cheeks like freshly fallen snow. Lips the same shade as his cheeks part around melodic notes that flow as if in an endless song.

“So pretty,” you whisper in awe, but Satoru doesn’t process the praise, too focused on wanting to come.

“I’m close, I’m close! Please, don’t stop, please!” he begs, his voice all high and strained. He’s always been loud in bed, but he’s most vocal in moments like this one, where he’s finally given what he’s been starved of and wanting since the beginning.

You smile and curl your fingers, bullying that tender spot inside him with short, harsh rubs, in rapid succession of every pump. The cuffs jingle and clink. Your arched fingertips squelch in his pussy while your thumb massages his clit. One, two, a few more harsh circles later and he’s squirting all over your hand. His body tenses like a bow string and shakes with the force of his orgasm. A few last spurts of fluid gush out his pussy before he finally collapses on the bed, panting and boneless.

While he floats down from his high, you keep yourself occupied with his pussy, sliding your drenched fingers in and out of his abused hole and watching how it clenches around the digits, like it’s still hungry for more.

The heel of Satoru’s foot finds your chest, digging into it, albeit not very strongly. “Ngh, st– stop... it’s too much,” he mumbles.

“Yeah but you like it when it’s too much, don’t you?” you tease, pressing down on that puffy bump inside him and making his weak leg spasm in the air for a moment before falling on top of your shoulder.

A sinister idea flares up in your mind.

You raise him up by his knees and throw his legs over your shoulders, his body almost vertical.

Satoru blinks and frowns at you sluggishly. “What are you–”

He gasps, so suddenly that you’d think he had the wind knocked out of him — because your lips are latching onto him and your tongue is lapping up all of his and what’s left of your juices. His ankles lock around the back of your head and his moans wobble like they can barely make it out of his chest in one piece.

“Ahh, fuck, wait, wait– please, it’s– ahh, stop, stop, I can’t–”

When you don’t hear the word, the one that would actually stop all this, should he really want it, you continue to eat him out like a man starved. You weave your tongue through his folds, over his throbbing clit, dipping into his still-oozing hole. Satoru ruts against your mouth as best he can in this position, completely betraying his own pleas. He doesn’t even realise he’s crying from the pleasure-pain until your voice is vibrating through him — a slurred, “Eyes on me, doll,” — and all he sees when he opens his eyes is a wavering blur and a silhouette that sharpens and reveals more of your features the more he blinks.

He comes almost instantly after your dark gaze comes into focus, slightly less violently than before, but still enough that he goes limp and completely motionless, save for the involuntary spasms that pass through him every so often. You set him down tenderly. His chest rises and falls and as you’re unlocking the cuffs around his wrists, he’s smiling to himself with all the energy he has left, because despite how hard you try to change it, to ‘teach him a lesson’...

Satoru still loves his punishments.

[finn-writes-stuff]

Hello! Can you write for Gale, Astarion and Halsin's reaction to tav wearing the wavemothers robe? Nsfw please😳

An Intricate Jewel

Tales tell of a most wondrous fish, scales resplendent, an intricate jewel that shone beneath the sea. When it died, the Wavemother gifted its hide as a robe to her most devoted follower - and demanded she drown the sailors that killed her gem-bright fish. - Item Description

Halsin, Gale & Astarion x Reader

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Format: Headcanons

Gender Neutral Reader

Masterlist

I haven't actually gotten to this robe in my own playthrough yet, but I've seen plenty of it online lmao. This one isn't fully nsfw but it's spicy. -Finn

Halsin

"Oh. You look stunning, my heart."

He is openly admiring you any chance he gets. It is shameless because why would he be ashamed of looking at you? Of admiring all of nature's bounty before him.

He's handsy if you allow it, holding onto your hips where the slits of the dress show off your skin. Pressing kisses to the back of your neck just over the collar. Halsin always loves getting to see more of your skin, and this dress is certainly showing it off.

In general, he is a big believer in wearing whatever you want and enjoying it. He's hardly going to get jealous about others getting to admire you, so long as he's allowed to look as much as he pleases as well.

Even better, when you still have water clinging too you after being healed, dripping down your skin and making the dress cling even tighter.

You'll have him pressed up to your back to murmur in your ear about what he would like to do to you the moment you can both slip away.

And once you get the chance, he'll be between your thighs with the skirt pushed up around your hips. And you'll get to see just how long he can gold off before tearing the dress off of you completely.

Gale

"Oh! Yes, well, um, you look lovely! That sure does, well, show off your figure. Hmm. Yes."

This man is bright red and cannot look away from you. Yes, he can be blatant in his own flirting, but you make his brain shut down sometimes. And in this dress? Oh Gods

He is trying so incredibly hard to be a gentleman. He is NOT staring at your legs or the cut out in the back of the dress or how much it reveals of your chest or the way it clings to you as close as he wants to be. He is definitely not thinking about any of that. He missed his spell for unrelated reasons.

Show off in front of him, put yourself in his line of sight constantly. He will be going insane trying to stay polite and focused. And it's always a fun game to see if you can make him trail off in the middle of a monologue about magic.

Gale will spend an entire day suffering and watching you and trying not to say anything about it, but the moment the party breaks camp, he is dragging you into his tent to show you just how much he likes this dress on you.

You've left him so pent up after the whole day. He can't get enough of you, touching and grabbing and kissing you like you're the air he needs to survive.

The dress stays on until he's made sure you are both fully sated for the night. And he swears that if you wear it again he won't be so patient.

And if he's going to make a promise like that, he shouldn't be surprised when you wear it the next day.

Astarion

"Ohoho, please do say you're all dressed up for me, love."

He thinks this is delightful and would do the same thing if he could find something flattering enough.

Trying to tease him with it? No, that's his game. He's teasing you by letting his hands just barely touch you, appearing behind you to whisper in your ear about how delectable you look. Then slipping away before you can say anything back.

If he's noticing anyone else paying you too much attention, he'll make fun of them for it, but he's also likely to stick closer to your side, his arm around your waist. Showing the world that you're his.

He's the least worked up about the dress, but he likes it when you still stay by his side regardless of how much attention it gets you. He's just as much yours as you are his, and he'll be more than willing to reward you for being such a sweet thing all day.

He wants to see the way the fabric presses into your skin when you arch your back and let him sink his teeth into your neck.

[jarofstyles]

In The Woods- Scarred

Hello my loves! I know it took a while but here is the second part to scarred. I'm unsure if I'm going to do a lot more with them besides some blurbs but that could change :)

Read the first part Here

Check out our Patreon for over 100+ exclusives and early access

WC- 7k

warnings- mention of anxiety, scarring, bullying, halloween, exhibitionism, mask/makeup kink, unprotected sex, degradation, slight fear play(??)

Enjoy xoxoxo

---------

Harry was shy. 

Y/n hadn't expected that stunning revelation in the time that she knew him, but without the layer of makeup? The man was cute. Fucking adorable, even, because he was a blushy mess.

It was apparent how Harry did have some issues with doubting himself and that just wasn’t going to cut it with Y/N. She knew that his anxiety was valid, that he had gone through things that made him think the way he did, but it only gave her a challenge she was more than up for. Flirting with him, making it apparent how absolutely gorgeous he was to her, and making him blush. 

His trust had been one of the most precious things she had ever been handed and she wasn’t going to do anything to put that into jeopardy. When she arrived back at work when people saw them arrive together, she had been bombarded with questions about him. What he looked like, how he was outside of work, but they got no answer other than ‘handsome’. When asked if she had any images, she blankly stared at the group. Of course she didn’t take any photos, because why would she betray his trust like that? 

‘He doesn’t want to share and he’s a private person. We’re dating and I got to see a part of him he doesn’t feel comfortable sharing here, and I’m not going to betray his trust for some gossip.’ 

Y/N’s mom-like scolding had them backing off, but she could see Harry lingering off to the side with a smirk on his face as he adjusted his costume. Droplets of fake blood crackled a little when he met her eyes in the mirror. He was pleased with her.

She didn’t even know how much it meant to him. To have a safe person. She sung his praises without giving anything away and to be honest? He had been shocked at how well she’d handled constant prodding from overly curious and downright nosy coworkers. They’d all quiet down or walk away when he came over but Y/N would remain there, standing pretty and smiling at him as he approached. 

“Got eaten alive?” He murmured, helping fluff her purposely messy hair. “Poor thing. Nosy fuckers they are, hm?” The tone of voice was low, just for the two of them to hear. She could see his dimple under the makeup, making her want to poke at it but she refrained. It wasn’t the time. 

“Yeah. S’a shame. Eating me is your job.” A coy glance made him stiffen for a second before he clicked his tongue, shaking his head at his girl’s antics. She’s been shameless this whole time. Their established relationship had gone on 2 weeks now but they’d kept it under wraps, all the while she would follow him home or vice versa. Their sex wasn’t stuck to one place anymore, and Harry took full advantage of the positions he could get her in a proper bed or bent over a kitchen counter. Adventurous sex had been a new one for him, and he was taking full advantage. 

“It is, isn’t it?” He sighed. “Shame I couldn’t do it before we came. M’starved.” Painted fingers pulled her in by the corseted waist, letting her lean back to peer at him. “I expect a three course meal after we leave. Maybe four, but I know we’ve been working on getting you there. Maybe tonight will be the night, hm?” 

Another new revelation in their blooming relationship was how utterly obsessed her new boyfriend was with giving her pleasure. Orgasms galore, so much so that she felt a near constant state of sensitivity- but she couldn’t complain. Not when she reaped the benefits of his generous nature. She found his mouth or hands in her more often than not, and if there would be no repercussions there was no doubt in her mind that Harry would crawl on the floor and under her skirt to give her an orgasm before they went out to the attraction- but alas, consequences would be fierce. 

“Let’s keep it calm, big boy.” Her hand smoothed over his chest, patting the warmth of it. “Three is more than enough, but it depends on how good you scare the people tonight.” 

Harry with his chainsaw, it was some sort of foreplay. How he got into a mindset and plotted scares, she could watch form across the way as he revved up the machine and made people sprint. He’d choose the victim of a scare and follow them around for a bit, making them uneasy, all while cornering them closer to Y/N’s section- letting them in for a double haunt that would leave people screeching. 

Realistically, Y/N it was the adrenaline and endorphins, but seeing her boyfriend- yes, she still did a little squeak in her head every time she thought the word- be so good at the job, seeing mid shift when his hair fell slightly in his face and that one curl went over his forehead, she was ready to jump him by the end of the night. He’d find his way over to her a few times a night, brush her dress with his fingers and give her a wink whenever she caught his view, wordlessly promising whatever the hell he wanted afterwards. It was hard to keep her cool when there was something so sexy about seeing him in this sort of element. Confident and hot, she loved watching him know people were both attracted and in fear of him. 

“You know I love a challenge.” He purred, already finding his groove. “Maybe it will be my most terrifying night yet. If you’re the prize at the end of the line, I’m going to give it my all.” Of course he was turning on the charm now, making her flush under her own makeup. He was suave when he did it here, but she knew when they left and the makeup was off he would be a little less smooth with it. A bit more clumsy, and she adored both sides of him. 

“I’ll hold it to you, sir.” She replied, leaning up to leave a little peck on his lips before brushing past him. It was time to see just how bad he wanted it.

—---------

Harry had a point to prove. That much was obvious, watching the glint in his eyes as he stalked past her after his current scare. She was doing her own haunt, which was a lot more different than Harry’s stalk and follow approach. Y/N was more of a jump scare sort of thing, waiting for them to get closer and act just a bit off before deciding to scream and lunge at them. 

His chainsaw hung by his side as he brushed past her, pinning her with his glare. It was full of promise. He was doing incredible tonight, a bit ruthless with his scares and getting people screaming and running. Y/N stayed in her assigned area whereas he had more room to move around, so he was moving them towards her. The guests were shaking, some in particular crying, and she knew that she was most definitely going to be breaking personal scare records tonight. 

It was incredible to watch. With the challenge being given of making it a scarier night and the reward being access to her, he took it seriously. Showing off for her, sending more guests her way for a second half of his scare. He’d loved to watch her get into it, screeching in their faces and going back to acting like nothing happened right afterwards. Y/N was his little devil, his vampire queen, and little did the people know that the bruises underneath the fake blood were all too real, from him. The adrenaline from the scares, the promise of what was to come and the heated glances between the two had him half hard his entire shift, eager to get back to his place to take her- if he could last that long. 

Harry did his best to behave as they went backstage. Keeping his hands to himself, he changed privately and came back out with his leather jacket hanging on his shoulder, a predatory gaze on her while she socialized. He knew she was stalling, teasing as she slowly wiped away the show makeup and fake blood on her skin and neck. Taking her grand old time to hang up her costume and gossip about a group of particularly obnoxious guests they’d had tonight, a school group that had been the worst kind. Teenage boys who tried to ‘scare’ the scare actors. Harry had been the one to scare the shit out of them, following them around and popping out randomly to make them scream. It’d been a good night.

She just needed to stop stalling. His cock was thickening as he watched her cotton pad wipe away the pale makeup, exposing her natural skin and the marks he left remaining on her throat. Her tank top clung to her and the shorts she had worn in were a temptation even before now, his neediness showing when he’d whined when she walked out of his bathroom with them on. It was torture. Y/N had the upper hand here, but she would lose it as soon as they were alone.

As people filtered out and Y/N threw her bag over her shoulder, Harry emerged from the shadowy hall he was hiding in to wrap his arm around her shoulder. His girl jumped before scoffing, nudging him as she let him know how she felt. “You know, I should probably be concerned about how you like to watch me like a stalker after our shifts, but it arouses me instead.” She sighed, admitting the unfortunate truth. She liked feeling his eyes on her, knowing he was thinking about what was to come. 

His makeup was still on, his green eyes exposed instead of the contacts he wore during his scares. It was also probably concerning how much she enjoyed it, but she figured it was akin to having a bit of a mask kink. Roleplay in a sense. Prior to getting to see his natural face, she had only seen the makeup get slightly smudged from the sweat and her mouth, but it was applied there with a firmness most women must be envious of. He had to have gotten the best shit there was. Sometimes she watched from the counter as he applied it with practiced ease, watching the skeletal makeup engulf and change his face. It was like watching him get into character. When the makeup was off, he was a bit more of a shyer boy with her. A little needy and clingy, soft spoken and tender touches. Sweet like honey, gooey and easy to break. With the makeup on? His disguise gave him a filthy amount of confidence, one that had him falling into that dominant, cocky nature she also adored. 

“Eh. You like to be chased and thrown around a bit.” He shrugged, his hand swinging with hers as he made his way to his car. “Don’t think there's anything necessarily wrong with enjoying how your boyfriend admires and follows you around. Especially when you know what lies ahead for you.” There it was. The cockiness that made him smirk, the moonlight hitting him just right so she could see the imprint of his dimple.  

“Mmm.” She hummed, following him slightly from behind. The parking lot was basically empty, but it wasn’t empty enough for his plans. Plus, he didn’t know what sort of security lay in hiding- so he was thinking about his options. He wanted to play tonight. Play a bit more than usual. They only had another week left of this job before they settled into normal life again, the season ending relatively soon. 

Harry helped her into the car, taking her duffle and his own bag to throw in the backseat before fishing his keys from his pocket and sliding into the driver's seat. Turning it into the ignition, he kept his eyes on the road as he began to drive off in the opposite direction of his house. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

—----

Y/N hadn’t known what the surprise was, but she sure as fuck got nervous when the car turned onto a wooded path. She trusted Harry, but she was unsure what the fuck could possibly be up this path that only seemed to wind upwards on an incline. He ignored her questioning, squeezing her thigh and told her it was fine as he smirked. She wasn’t truly distressed but her heart was beating harder as they made it up to an empty gravel parking lot at the top of the hill. 

Her nerves died down as her eyes widened, looking at the view. It was a perfect view of the lake and town below them. She’d never heard of this spot, but she definitely was a fan. He parked somewhat in the middle, letting them look out at the twinkling stars and the town below them, the boats bobbing on the water. The night was cool and he left the windows up to preserve some of the heat when he turned the car off and backed his chair up the most it could go. 

“Never got to fool around the way most people did in school. Know this is a local spot where people come to play… and I know about your exhibition streak.” His hand stroked her bare skin, turned to look at her. “So I figured… Why not now?”

That’s how she ended up on his lap, hands in his hair as he held both sides of her ass. Squeezing, kneading, playing with her like his own personal toy, Harry was enjoying it thoroughly as she gently rocked on top of him. His mouth was greedy for her own, surely smudging some of the black and white makeup onto her skin but she didn’t care. Sitting on his thicker thighs, letting him touch her as he pleased, she was only focused on how good it felt to kiss him. 

“Such a pretty girl.” He mumbled as his lips went down her neck. “D’you know how happy it makes me to know they all know you’re mine?” It more than pleased him. Harry had never been as proud of having a girlfriend as he was with Y/N. She genuinely liked him, she saw both sides and didn’t prefer either one. Instead, she embraced him and went with his sometimes erratic flow, never seeming to mind. 

“They’re jealous.” She replied, leaning her head back as his mouth worked over the sensitive skin. His teeth nipped, of course, lips attaching to suck another mark she could hide with her hair as she continued. “Jealous I’ve got you. Some act happy but… they ask how I managed to get to know you. Said you never hooked up with anyone before me… And that makes me very happy.” Y/N had a possessive streak of her own, something that Harry fucking loved. He loved watching her pride when she walked with him, both in and out of makeup, and watching the slight irritation she had when people dug a little too deep into wanting to know about them. They never knew Harry was watching from the shadows, almost always following his girl around from a distance. She knew, though. She would shoot him looks to where she thought he was hiding, making him like her even more. 

“Know it does, my possessive girl. You don’t like t’share, hm?” He purred as he pulled back from the fresh mark. “Pretend to complain about the marks I leave on you but you leave ‘em out so they can see. You like them knowing you’re satisfied. Love that they know I’m the one fucking you.” It sent tingles up his spine knowing that. He’d been so used to people being ashamed of him that seeing her be so protective of him was just as arousing as it was heartwarming. 

His fingers strayed from her ass to find the waistband of those pesky little shorts, sliding them down so he had full access to her. He didn’t see her usual pantie line when she’d emerged from the changing booth and he was proven correct as she gasped. “Look at you. Naughty thing, walking around without panties… Why’s that? Thought you loved it when I stuffed them in that pretty mouth to shut you up.” He cooed, sliding one hand down to her cunt, cupping it to make her gasp. 

“I-I wanted it to be easier for you. You were teasing me all night and they were ruined anyway.” It wasn’t something she’d admit to anyone else, but the scaring with Harry aroused her. She loved making people scream, loved watching her boyfriend do the same with no fear in his eyes. Loved even more so when he moved them into her scare zone and helped her out with one. Then he had been following her around with that glint in his eye, always fucking watching her. Y/N loved it, loved that he was always there. There was probably a psychological reason, but all she knew was that her poor underwear had been soaked through. 

“Oh?” He chuckled under his breath. “Should’ve known. You do tend to be a mess when we scare together. Even more than when I just follow you around. Something’s wrong with us, hm? But we don’t care.” He pressed his lips to hers as his thumb found her clit, humming as she gasped against his mouth. She was slippery and wet, his favorite way for her to be as he played with her, rubbing circles over the little swollen button. “No, you like when things are wrong. Like to be watched and followed by me until I bend you over in that dressing room and shove my hand down these slutty little shorts. You taunt and tease and then act surprised when I fuckin’ ruin you.” 

Y/N keened, rubbing herself against him as he moved his thumb on her. Everything he said was the truth so all she could do was nod. She’d been so worked up during the night that even this felt good enough to orgasm from, his rough circles and deep voice getting deep into her head and igniting the flames in her belly. 

“Yeah? Just nodding, can’t even deny it. Knew you wore those to spite me. You just love the idea of someone catching us. Filthy girl, I know you. Know what your body likes.” He rubbed a bit harder, feeling her lean further into him as he did so. “What part has you humping my hand like you’re in heat? Was it feeling my eyes on you all day? Having people be jealous of us? Scaring people?” Y/N couldn’t speak, just whining as she nodded. All of the above.  

Y/N would have been ashamed of how quickly she was about to cum if he hadn’t been tormenting her all night. Like he didn’t know how much those things got to her. Her nails dug into the man’s shoulders, breathing heavy as her mouth opened. “I’m gonna cum.” She warned, albeit in a whimpery tone. Harry loved when she talked like that. His thumb was strong and kept up the movements as they were, his hand holding the back of her neck to keep her forehead pressed to his. 

“Go ahead. Make a mess of my lap, sweetheart. Can’t believe how worked up you are.” He cooed. He could, actually. Considering he was just as wound up, he was throbbing inside of his pants but preferred her pleasure over his own. “C’mon, baby. Can feel it.” 

He could tell as she began to fall over the edge, her body moving to hold onto his harder and her head falling into his own as his thumb continued the movements to work her through it. She let out a desperate moan, shivering in his arms. Harry loved making her cum, it was one of his favorite things to do- and getting to see each thing, hear each moan, he was only feeding into the addiction. 

“There we go, my sweet girl.” He praised. “Just ride it out.” Harry soothed her as the orgasm began to die down, pulling his thumb away as soon as she needed a second to be sensitive and pulling it into his mouth with a hum. His whole hand was wet with her, but tasting her on his skin was another level of hot. 

Y/N knew he wasn’t done. Not in the slightest. Her hand found his jaw and pulled him back for a kiss, drooping on his lap as she kissed him hungrily. The taste of her was still slight on his tongue, making her search for more. Her hands went to his belt, Harry allowing her to undo it and slide it off- but stopped her when she got to the zipper.

“Want t’try something new with you.” He started, suddenly opening the car door and standing up with her in his grip. Her shorts fell off onto the ground but that was the least of her worries as he rounded the front, gently bending her over the hood of his car. The cold metal of the vehicle made her wince momentarily, but his warm palms ran over her immediately to try and make it up to her. The night was chilly but her body was hot from the arousal she felt, his body in between her thighs as she moved for him. 

“Want to take you just like this.” He explained, taking her wrists one by one and placing them to lay behind her back. “And I want you to scream for me. No one’s out here… No one can hear us- or maybe they can.” His hand gave a gentle smack to her ass as he teased. “Just let me take you out in the open. Would’ve done it in the parking lot at work but… Cameras.” He didn’t want anyone else seeing her on video. No, nothing except his own one day. He wanted to have a private folder of the filthy views he got to see, her creaming on his cock, her ass jiggling against his hips, her glossy eyes as he slipped as much as he could down her throat. He wanted to document the pleasure to look at as his own time.  He’d never had someone he liked so much, someone’s body he was so addicted to. 

“Okay, just fuck me.” She panted, wiggling her ass against him. “Just do it, please. Been waiting all night and I need you.” All of this was hotter than most things she dreamt of. Harry taking her out to a wooded clearing, ready to fuck her in his scary makeup over the hood of his car? It sounded like something out of a horror movie about to turn wrong, but she knew he liked her too much. He worshiped her in ways she didn't know possible. It was a fantasy come true. 

“Relax, baby.” He cooed. “Don’t think you should be making too many demands. Y’know I like to be in charge.” She stiffened for a moment as she felt the tip of his cock brush through her folds before arching herself back, whining coming from her throat as he moved back and forth over her clit. “I know you’re achy, know your cunt’s a greedy little thing. M’gonna give it to you but… I just wanted to see this.” He held her by the small of her back keeping her still as he finally began to push in. 

Y/N’s eyes watered as she felt the stretch of him. Relief. She’d been taunted and teased and Harry was finally giving her what they both wanted. He was slow as he did it, his eyes locked at the puffy lips of her cunt as it swallowed him up. Pushing in and taking his time despite a bit of squirming. The wet, spongy walls engulfed him and squeezed tight, spoiling him in the sensation. There was nothing quite like this- quite like her. It didn’t feel this good with anyone else, nor had he ever done it at a place like this. He wouldn’t want to feel it, no other pussy or hole would be as good for him as this one was. Part of it was their emotional connection, he was positive about that, but he swore they had been made for each other physically. Her cunt was made specifically for him to cum in, and his cock to pleasure her. 

Her mouth opened and she let out a moan as he pulled out a little to thrust back in. He could feel his hunger for her growing as he continued, his eyes locked on where they were joined. The light was dim but there was enough moonlight to see her arousal coating him, glistening as he pulled out and pushed back in. It was their warm up, going easy and teasing just a little bit more. 

“Harder, please.” Y/N bleated, trying to wriggle around but to no avail. Harry had her pinned, and she was at his mercy. It would be embarrassing how wet she was getting if she didn’t know how much he loved it. No doubt he was staring at it now, as he always seemed to be mesmerized at how good they looked together. “Please give me more. You’re bein’ mean.” 

Harry stopped, chuckling under his breath as he buried himself to the hilt, prick snug and warm inside of her. Caressing her back, he slid his hand up and down until he got to her ass, squeezing over it. “You think this is being mean to you, darling?” He murmured, grinding himself into her and smirking as he felt her gasp as his cock hit that sweet spot. “I think I’ve been quite nice. Gave you a chance to adjust, didn’t split you open and wreck you. But I should have known better… m’dealing with a needy slut.” His words hissed against her ear as he bent over the car with her, pressing his body into her. “That’s what I get for bein’ a nice boyfriend. What did you want, hm? Wanted that scary man back from work? Gets you wet, we both know. Watching me make people scream, but it's you who wants that. Nasty little whore wants to be ruined.” He pulled up, hand wrapping around the nape of her neck and pinning her back to the car after she tried to follow. “No. I was nice, but you want something else. Want me to show you mean, princess?” His opposite hand came down rough on her ass, making her yelp. “I’ll show you mean.” 

It was gloves off. Y/N should have known she was playing with fire, but she’d been desperate. Harry began to fuck her. Well and truly, fuck her. Hand on the back of her neck pressing her into the car as she cried out into the chilly night air, owning her as her whimpers echoed off the trees. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck- yes.” Her mouth fell open, hard to speak the words she really wanted to. It made her wet, wetter than usual to have her boyfriend take her out and fuck her where they could potentially get caught. He had said this was a makeout spot, a sightseeing destination, but here he was. Pounding her cunt for all it was worth and making it weep. “S’good, s’good, H-Harry…” 

“Yeah? It’s good?” He sneered. “Finally good enough for the little cockslut? Wasn’t enough that I took you out here… bent you over my car and spread your legs like a bitch in heat… mm, no.” His thrusts were deep and hard, making her move and yelp a little bit as he fucked inside. “Been so nice to you lately, been so fucking sweet… Almost forgot about how much of a nasty bitch you can be.” Harry smacked her ass again, the stinging pain making her cunt quiver around him- because this was perfect. Filthy, a little bit wrong, and a little dangerous. 

“Sopping pussy, so fucking needy. Never seen such a dirty girl in my life, but s’why your mine, isn’t it?” He cooed, acting as if he wasn’t pummeling her. Y/N could barely breathe, his rough thrusts making her cheek press harder into the warming metal. She could hear it, hear how messy she was making the both of them and it only made it worse. She was bare and vulnerable to the world and Harr was just taking it, taking care of her and using what she was offering. Ruining her like he had been meant to do. 

“Uh huh.” She gasped, feeling the tears return to her eyes. “I-I’m yours, I’m yours, my body is yours, I want to m-make you happy.” The words were a hiccuped plea, the warm tears growing cold against her skin as the beginnings of her orgasm were starting to take over. Neither of them would last long like this, not after the foreplay and the new situation. She hadn’t expected to be bent over a car in the middle of the forest and fucked into oblivion in the moonlight, no, but this was quickly becoming a favorite. “Face- I wanna see your face, please.” 

Harry paused, smiling to himself as she asked to look at him. He was still in his makeup, albeit smeared, but he knew how much she loved it. He obliged, carefully pulling out and turning her over so her back laid against the hood. “There’s my pretty girl.” His mean persona melted away for a moment as he bent down to kiss her hard, pushing the hair away from her sweaty face. “Adore you. You okay?” He wasn’t a stranger to her crying during sex from the pleasure, but he wanted to double check.

“Mhm.” She was dazed, but so fucking good. He had surprised her for sure, but she loved every part of this. “Perfect. Keep making me cry, Sir.”

His eyes darkened once more at the honorific. Y/N knew how to push buttons, and she did it successfully with him. Maybe she was a glutton for punishment, but she didn’t care. Seeing his face turn like that, even hidden beneath the layers, it made her clench around nothing. “Inside me, please.”

“At least the slut’s got manners.” He scoffed, angling himself as he thrust back in. It was a different view here. Instead of watching her ass bounce against him, he got to see her tits moving under her tank top as he began his thrusting yet again. They were covered in the thin excuse of a top and that simply wouldn’t do. “Why are you hiding from me? Let me see your tits.” He grunted, thumb finding her clit as he stared down at her. Y/N stared at him with a dazed expression for a moment before he snarled, smacking his fingers over her clit. “Know you get dumb on my cock, but fucking listen to me.”

And oh- Oh, Y/N loved that. Maybe there was something severely wrong with her, but she loved when he talked like that. It sent her into a frenzy, her poor abused pussy gushing slightly around him as he smacked her clit again. A keening whine left her throat as she scrambled to lift her shirt up, baring herself to him. It was a little humiliating in the best way. Being basically naked while getting fucked out in the open, her body flushed in heat now so the cold didn’t bother her and sounds leaving her body without her permission. Harry was playing into a fantasy, one she was all too aware of wanting to happen again. Anyone could drive up and see him wrecking her, anyone could watch how good she got fucked. 

“There you go. Not that hard, was it? My pretty, dumb little slut.” The man cooed, fingers finding her nipples, pinching them as he railed her.  “God, you’re making such a fucking mess on me. Gonna put me away wet, hm? Or should I make you suck me on the way back? Bet you would.” He babbled, watching as her breasts bounced at the force of his thrusts and her face pinched in pleasure. The sound of their fucking was audible, the smack of skin hot and heavy as it echoed off the trees. Y/N wasn’t being quiet, much to his delight. Moaning for him, for more, little crystalline tears dribbling out of the corners of her eyes and looking so pretty as they trailed down her cheeks. She was rambling about how good it felt, how much she needed him, and it fueled that evergrowing ego. 

Outside of their sex, he was the sweetest thing. He liked to dote on her and cuddle her, learning her skincare routine and braiding her hair when she was too tired after work. He took her to the park and made their own lunches, trying to expand outside his slightly agoraphobic bubble because she was giving him the affection and confidence he needed. Y/N wasn’t at all ashamed to be seen holding his hand or kissing his cheek, she had changed his life and ways she had no clue of- and giving her the best sex possible was the least he could do. 

During sex she liked him a little mean, which he loved to lean into. But this was a lot, and she was responding so fucking well- he knew from their limits discussion that he was okay to do it, but seeing it actually pan out positively gave him a confidence kick yet again.  

Her babbling continued but got higher in pitch, her eyes continuing to cry as she sniffled and whimpered his name as she held on to one of his forearms with force. “Yes, anything y-you want. Wanna make you happy, Sir. Please, I just…” She let out a little sob. “M’gonna cum. Can I? Please?” The beg was cute, his smirk growing on his face as he looked at the desperation on hers. There was something so erotic about this vision in front of him. Her lips still stained from her lipstick and puffy from their kisses and biting, the tiniest bit of mascara still on her lashes smearing under her eyes, his prior love bites in different stages on her tits- this was fucking heaven and he wished he could photograph it- but that was for later. 

“May I.” He scolded, smacking over her clit again to make her jolt. “Ask properly, and you can.” 

Y/N scrambled to answer as he felt the beginnings of it on his cock. He knew how perfect it felt when she came wrapped around him, but it was even better that she wanted his approval.  “May I cum, please Sir? Please- I can’t hold it, I really can’t, wanna be good, I need to-” Her panicked voice broke as his thumb brushed repeatedly over her swollen clit. There was no way she could hold it. Not when he was looking down at her with that glint in his eye. 

“Do it. Make a mess.” He ordered. “Cum for me, now.” He continued his thrusts as he felt the rapid clenching take over, her back arching and tits thrust in the air as she let go. Creaming around him, shivering as she let out a broken sob yet again, louder this time as she writhed under him. Her hot walls pulsed around him, as if begging for his cum- and he was going to give it to her. 

“Fuck, there’s my girl. Look so fucking gorgeous when you cum f’me, shit.” He grit through his teeth as his thrusts grew sloppy. “Where do you want it? Where does my pretty little whore want that cum?” He didn’t have much time left for her to answer, but her body did it for him. Lifting her legs and wrapping them around his waist, pulling him into her as she finally found the words.

“In, inside, inside me, Harry. Cum in me, give it to me, I want it.” She rambled, begging for it. How could he ever say no to that? The desperation, the true yearning for him to bust his load inside of her hot, perfect cunt and paint it white, he couldn’t resist it. His eyes took in the scene in front of him, how her puffy cunt was clinging to him as he pushed her open. The mess of slick and cream forming a filthy ring around the base of his cock as he fucked into her, smeared over the sides. Her trembling thighs and hard nipples moved along with his movement. Her swollen clit that was sensitive to the touch, how he fucking stretched her to the brim. There was nothing hotter than this. 

He cursed loudly as he began to climax, his balls throbbing as he began to spurt his load inside of her. Mouth open and eyes hooded in pure rapture, he watched as his sloppy thrusts inside of her and his cum began to coat him, making even more of a mess between them. It was nasty and hot and perfect for this scenario, a scary man taking a pretty, innocent little thing for all she was worth over the hood of his car in the dark woods. The strength of said orgasm surprised him, making him lean further over and pull her into him. His face found hers, kissing her mouth again as he worked them through the aftershocks of their pleasure, pulling her up so he could hold her against him. 

“My perfect girl. Did so good, always so fuckin’ good for me.” He mumbled against her mouth, giving her the praise he knew she needed. He hadn’t been that mean before and while she enjoyed it, she needed to have no doubts whatsoever about his affections for her. “M’so proud of you. Took it so well, make me so happy, my little angel. Obsessed with you.” He pecked her between sentences, pausing his thrusts to a halt. Staying inside of her for now, he knew it would hurt when he pulled out. There was no rush, only to make sure she was warm. Based off of both of their sweaty bodies, the chill of the autumn night was more than welcome. 

Pulling back from her lips, he stroked the tears that still fell- albeit at a much slower pace- and cleaned her up the best he could. There was no way to feel clean after sex like that and he knew it would be a nice shower when they got back to his place, but he was still going to do a bit of aftercare here and now. “My baby.” He whispered, voice a little hoarse. “Y’alright? Went a bit more intense than normal.” It was a bit of an understatement, really. Her nod in reply wasn’t good enough for him. “None of that. You know I want your words, precious.” 

“M’good.” She whispered, sounding just as tired and fucked as she looked. “So good, but so tired. Loved that a lot.” She clung to him, her achy arms wrapping around his shoulders as he picked her up off of the hood and carried her to the still open backseat. He apologized profusely, cooing at her as he pulled out, but he needed to clean her up.

“As sexy as it is seeing me dripping from you, can’t have my girl uncomfortable.” his lips pressed against her thigh as he gently wiped her clean with the tissues that were conveniently in the car. “Gonna take you home and we can hop in the shower, hm? Grab some food on the way home?” He grabbed her discarded shorts and slowly began to pull them up her legs. “Know I’m not into fast food but you deserve a treat.” 

Y/N perked up, a sleepy smile on her face as Harry’s nimble fingers adjusted her tank top and grabbed his hoodie from the other side of the backseat to pull over her head. He’d seen the goosebumps on her legs. His thoughtfulness aways did astound her. No one would ever guess he just called her a pretty, dumb little slut. He encased her in a soft bubble of affection as soon as the sex was over and she’d never known anything like it before. Hopefully she wouldn’t have any other partners. As early on as it was, as the days passed she began to become sure that the meeting between them was no coincidence. Her finding this job, applying, and catching the one man’s eye who never hooked up with anyone whilst also not in the market to do so, giving into his flirtations, all of it was fate. There was no other option. Something had pulled her in. 

For something meant to be so scary, it sure ended up being sugary sweet. 

“Sounds good.” She sighed, pulling him closer to kiss his puffy lips again. “Can you just hold me for a minute, though?” That vulnerable feeling was different now, in the shadows of their intense lust. It was floaty and soft and Harry was the anchor that made sure she didn’t fly too far away. 

“Course. M’never going to say no to holding you.” In all honesty, if he could do his work all day with her snuggled in his lap, he would. He never felt the need for personal space around her, and as scary as that had felt at first, he knew now that it was just the feeling of a pairing being right. It was early, some may say too early to tell, but he was pretty sure he’d found the one. 

Someone who saw him as more than Scarred.

[mell0wjello]

° 𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓑𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓢𝓮𝓷𝓼𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 °

!TAGS! - AFAB! Reader !!NSFW AHEAD!! Skip if you feel uncomfortable with the following topics ! : Hate Sex (?), light Voyeurism, Degradation, slapping, name-calling, marking, lowkey dub-con?, and reader sort of leads Jamil on. This is my first time writing smut its probably ass lmao I'm sorry also not proofread

~~~~~~

Jamil impatiently tapped his pen against his desk. He tried his best to concentrate on Trein's magic history lesson despite the incessant throbbing in his head. The cause? You.

You, sitting at your desk, clearly uninterested in what your teacher had to say. Instead, much more interested in the merman besides you. Azul was desperately trying to ignore your shameless remarks and your painfully obvious flirting.

The way you intentionally pressed your legs and tits together. How you were practically on top of him, how pathetic and desperate you looked. And what’s worse, you were making it his problem. From the corner of his eye, Jamil could see you keep glancing back at him, just to make sure he was seeing your shameless display.

After a week of this pathetic behavior, it was driving him half insane. And Azul of all people? This had to be on purpose. After what seemed like hours of torture, the bell for the last class of the day finally rang as Jamil sighed relief. All he wanted to do was get out of that classroom as soon as possible. He packed his things and ran out the door. On the way out, he saw you still glued to Azul's arm. He quickly averted his gaze, hurrying to the Hall of Mirrors. He needed to distract himself away to block your intrusion from seeping into his mind.

That night, Jamil rustled uncomfortably in his bed. Every time he closed his eyes, he returned back to the past month, when you used to approach him so innocently and talk with him. Never as to disturb him, but your charm was so undeniably alluring, he kept going back himself for more, in spite of himself. He carved himself open, vulnerable for your eyes to see and now for your hands to tear apart. The same hands that used to hold his face as the two of you made out in the halls when no one was looking were now crudely all over another man. There wasn't a formal thing between the both of you, and that's what irritated him the most.

He had let down his walls and now he paid the price. He kept revisiting the events of the past week, an uncomfortable heat forming in his stomach. His fists clenched on his mattress and his eyes stung. You made him feel inferior, the sentiment drawing Jamil to an edge. He never wanted to look at your face again, yet he desperately needed to have you in front of him. He wanted to do so many things to you and none at all. The heat only festered deeper in him.

The next day, Jamil was quite tired from last night. Kalim took notice of Jamil's mood at breakfast and tried his best to cheer him up. However, Jamil dismissed it, assuring him that he was feeling fine and just a little tired. Kalim was concerned, but disturbing him was going to do Jamil no good, so he let it go. Jamil did his best to pull himself together in preparation for the school day ahead. You shared no classes with him today, so he had the fortune to not see your face in class. He made sure to even avoid your general direction, deciding against lingering on you for too long. You made no efforts to give him any sort of attention either.

At the end of the day, he returned to Scarabia with an improved mood compared to the morning. Tests were coming up, so he could immerse himself in studying and other chores instead of obsessing over your recent conduct. Jamil was even pleased to cook Kalim's dinner that evening. He sat down with the rest of the dorm as he usually did to make small chat with everyone else, that is until all the composure he had built up throughout the day crumbled all too easily at the sight of your disheveled figure entering the lounge. Your uniform skirt was worn higher than usual, your necktie hanged around your neck undone, and your dress shirt was unbuttoned to reveal a little more of your chest. Even your thigh highs were rolled up unevenly. Your eyes scanned the students until they landed on him.

Jamil groans internally when his name spills out of your vulgar mouth, calling him over. Going over to you is the last thing he wants to do, but in front of his entire dorm who know him to be friendly with you, he had no choice unless he wanted to draw any attention. Reluctantly, he sat up and went up to you to lead you into one of the secluded hallways of Scarabia with the coldest expression he could muster. Once he made sure you both had enough privacy, he turned to look at you, his cold and empty glare piercing right through you. A small shiver of excitement crawled up your arms, but you made sure not to give it away.

“I just wanted to ask for your help with some of the Magic History homework. I've been feeling so distracted lately, I thought maybe you could help me out?" You spoke to him sweetly, but to him your words were septic.

"Really? You want my help? That's rich coming from someone who's been too busy drooling over other guys. Why not ask Azul?" Jamil scowled, narrowing his eyes at you with contempt.

"Oh, please. Azul's just a friend. " You replied, reaching for his hands. You felt Jamil try to recoil at your touch, but you held him firmly. You neared his face.

"And besides, you know I wouldn't ask you to do it for free." You guide his hands onto your body, pulling him closer and landing at your waist. You looked into Jamil's eyes in anticipation, feeling how his hands didn't return to his sides, and instead wondered further down. You drew in a short breath of impatience as you felt one of his hands slowly glide towards your lower back, but stopping short of your desired spot. Without warning, he lifted his hand and striked down on you, making your shriek of surprise melt into a lascivious moan. Jamil removed his hands from your body.

"This is what you really wanted, wasn't it bitch?" Jamil spoke crudely.

"Well then, since you're practically begging for it," Jamil unbuckled his pants as you watched with an unapologetic smile on your face.

"Start sucking."

You're quick to go on your knees, staring down his semi-erect length with hungry eyes before sticking out your tongue to finally taste your fantasies. But Jamil wasn't patient. As soon as you opened your mouth, he grabbed you by the hair and shoved you down on his entire length, connecting your nose with his base and feeling his tip scratch the back of your throat as he groaned. You were not expecting such a brash action so soon, your hands flew to his thighs for support and your jaw hurt by being stretched so abruptly, it had no choice but to suck. Jamil's hand guided your head to his tip, before shoving you back in. Your eyes looked up at him wearing a satisfied smile on his face. You could hardly breathe, but he didn't care as he continued fucking your face without remorse. It was too much, and soon a few tears pricked at your eyes, your hands pushed away from him to catch your breath.

"What's wrong? Don't tell me you're tired already. Isn't this what you wanted? And you were so excited for it too." Jamil teased as he stared at your breathless figure beneath him. He knew he was hurting your ego. But you liked it. You felt the area between your legs get hotter.

"Sluts don't get to have breaks. Get back to work." He said firmly as he tightened his grip on your hair and forced you on himself again.

You tried your best to keep up with his pace, but Jamil was so relentless and cared so little it was near impossible. He was using your mouth like a fleshlight. Saliva began to spill from your mouth. Jamil was getting more vocal though, you knew he was close. Awaiting his release, you increased the force of your suction, eliciting a gasp from Jamil. He pulls you away from him before he reaches his peak. You looked at him as you gasped for breath. Your head dives in to finish the job, but Jamil stops you by the chin. Your eyes follow his angry expression as he turns your face and lands a resounding slap on your cheek, the force sending sparks of electricity all the way down to your aching cunt.

"You don't get to have my cum in your mouth." He scoffed, looking annoyed of your audacity.

His knees drop to your level, and without warning, his hand dives underneath your skirt, and skilled fingers pull the underside of your panties so that two of his fingers can go inside. You immediately clench down on him, but he pulls out as soon as he came in. Jamil looks at his fingers covered in your fluids, almost in awe.

"Haven't done anything and you're already this wet?" He mocks, rubbing the juices with his fingers before turning to you.

"You must really be a whore."

Every insult shoots straight down, missing the relief of his fingers.

"Please, Jamil. It feels so good." You whine shamelessly, rubbing your legs uncomfortably in hope of creating some sort of friction to alleviate the heat.

"It feels good? Wouldn't you rather it be Azul instead?" Jamil snorted, looking at you with a look of distaste.

"No," You whimper.

"Only you make me feel this good Jamil, please."

Jamil scoffs.

"Bend over the wall." He states.

You can barely believe your ears, you stay on your knees looking at him dumbly.

"Bend over the fucking wall." He repeats with a demanding tone that snaps you back. With excitement rippling through your body, you giddily stand up and do as he says. Jamil flips over your skirt, revealing your soaking underwear. He makes quick work of it by lowering it to your ankles. You wait in anticipation as Jamil accommodates his hands on your waist. You feel his tip teasing your folds, but it retreats from your entrance. You turn your head to look back at him, but before you can say anything you yelp as Jamil slams his cock into you, completely burying himself up to the hilt. You erupt in primal moans as Jamil follows through at a tremendous pace. Your knees can't help buckle, but Jamil holds you steady with his hands keeping a steady grip on your waist. Your face squishes against the white walls of the halls, and you can feel your tits bounce with each thrust. He gave you no time to adjust to his girth, but it didn't matter because right now he was hitting everything he needed to create a babbling mess out of you.

"This is what you wanted from the very start. You just wanted to get a good fuck out of me. How many other guys did you do this to?" He grunted, slapping your ass vulgarly, making it ripple against him. You answer in a high-pitched whine.

Jamil continued his brutal pace, the both of you letting out moans loud enough to fill the empty hall.

"With how loud your moaning, you might as well let everybody in Scarabia know you're being fucked so good." Jamil snorts at you somehow increasing the speed of his thrusts.

"Oh, fuck-" He curses as your grip on him tightens. Jamil bites down on your neck, causing you to get louder. He sucks on your skin, hard enough to draw blood. You gasp breathlessly as he continues, and you feel a knot tightening in your stomach. You're close. Jamil also notices, given how your words are more unintelligible and you've become noisier and restless beneath him. Your eyes roll back and your tongue lolls out, a string of saliva erotically dripping from your bottom lip.

The knot continues to tighten. Your voice begins to crack, each noise you're making sending holts of arousal to Jamil's dick. You feel the dam finally break as your orgasm ripples through you. A string of whines spill from your slacking mouth, your pussy clenching down on Jamil. The force of your orgasm is enough to send Jamil over the edge. He quickly pulls out, watching as his seed paints ropes on your back with a satisfied sigh, collapsing on you.

Your chest heaves recovering from your high as you look at the man behind you. There's a thin layer of sweat covering him. His eyes meet yours. Your fucked-out expression awakens a sense of pride within. He pulls up your panties and pulls up his pants. With a sigh, he says reluctantly.

"If you still want those notes, come by tomorrow and we can have a talk about it."

You nod at him excitedly. With a little help from Jamil, he sends you off to the mirror, ignoring the stares of some of his dormmates.

~~~~~~

[historiaxvanserra]

Depraved

Pairing: Cassian x female!reader

Description: On a reconnaissance mission deep in the Illyrain Mountains you and Cassian come under the spell of some strange and exotic plant that sees you both subject to your basest desires.

Word count: 5.3K (ish)

Warnings: 18+ only! this wasn’t a request it’s just shameless smut with a smidge of plot (unedited sex pollen fic, dirty talk, unprotected sex, p in v, kind of dubcon but not really, etc).

For my fellow Cassian girlies. this is kind of a hot mess but honestly at least i'm writing something.

The winter sun is sinking low into the western horizon when Cassian motions for you to fall to your knees beside him. It’s depraved the way you drop to the floor wordlessly as Cassian towers over you, his large frame concealing the last slivers of sunlight as they give way to the rapidly falling night. 

“How we doin’ this, then, General?” you ask, peering through the thicket of blackberry bushes and into the small encampment nestled into the depths of the valley. There are three Illyrian’s gathered around the campfire and two flanking the makeshift entrance to the north. 

Cassian seems to be lost, somewhere distant and far away. Abandoned to the hazy recollections of warfare and bloodshed. He wears blood well you think. Carries the weight of war with the deference and respect it deserves. 

Still, he looks peaceful then. Despite the storm raging inside of him. He wears peace  well too; the sulk of his lips and the straight slope of his nose and fine-high cheekbones give the impression he was carved by the first Gods. Primordial and celestial.

He is as good as a God himself in this light-- the way the burnt sienna of the winter sun reflects in his hazel eyes. They look like molten gold. 

Your heart is thunderous in your heaving chest as he finally turns to you and offers you his large, broad hand. It’s rough against the smooth silk of your palm and his fingers flex around your wrist in a way that makes heat coil in the lowest parts of your stomach and the leathers you’re wearing cling to your skin in a way that is not all together uncomfortable. 

“Are you even listening to me, princess?” Cassian huffs running a hand over his face, leaving a smear of dried blood in his wake.

“I’d pay good money to know what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.” He muses.

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?” You say smiling wide at him. It’s only half-teasing. 

Cassian watches you curiously as you begin to readjust your thigh holster and reach for your Illyrian daggers in an futile attempt to distract yourself from his shameless flirting.

“You’re the second prettiest girl I know,”

“Only the second?” You say feigning offense and bringing a hand to rest on your chest. 

“Az is the first, obviously.” 

“Obviously, Azriel is the prettiest person I know too.” You tease, catching his eye. 

The smile. No. Smirk, that spreads across his face then is full of devilment and harmless flirtation as he pulls you closer to his side in a sidelong hug. 

“And here I thought I was the prettiest.” he says, nudging you playfully.

Once again his eye hone in on the group gathered around the campfire in the dip of the valley. The way his face sets so beautifully as he takes the time to calculate his next move is enough to take your breath away. He is utterly devastating you think. 

“I say we go in quietly,” he nods to you as he unsheaths his dagger from its holster. “Take ‘em by surprise.”

You nod slowly in understanding and agreement as you follow him into the thicket. 

You sink low and take a fighting stance as you begin the descent down the side of the valley with Cassian in tow who only laughs and huffs pulling at his own knife. 

No more than ten minutes later you’re both caught up in the fray, the dusky haze of combat falling over the encampment and the roaring of the campfire and Cassian’s deep primal shouts permeate the darkness.

You hoist yourself up from the floor with a flourish and flip your assailant onto his back in the mud as a determined elbow braces the nose of the Illyrian below you. His wings flare and flail helplessly under you in an attempt to free himself as your knife meets his chest. 

He goes limp in your grip as the sickening squelch of blood and bone echoes in the night air. You pull your knife from him with a grimace as his blood spurts and pools on the soiled bedroll. 

Standing on unsteady feet you’re surrounded by bodies; an assortment of splintered bone and broken glass, set against the backdrop of the velvet night. 

Cassian comes to stand by your side, taking in your disheveled appearance. His large hand comes to hold you by the hip while the other brushes your hair from your face as he murmurs praises quietly. When you have regained your breath he pats you twice on the shoulder before leaving you with a firm squeeze. 

There’s an uncertain tenderness in the way he regards you in the haze of battle that always catches you off guard. As though the fine line between friends and lovers is itself blurred. You can’t say you mind it. Sometimes it is this tender and rough version of him that warms you through winter nights. The fleeting memory of this version of Cassian is enough to sate your wanting. 

When you look at him he’s coated in a thin veil of sweat and you swear you can hear his heart hammering in his heaving chest. His wings slump and strain in fatigue as he allows his body to falter in a state of near-exhaustion.

The reprieve is short lived when three more Illyrian brutes armed to the nines come trailing through the northern gate. All bared teeth and snarling fury. 

“Shit!” You curse under your breath and catch Cassian’s glowing hazel eyes. 

He looks feral in the moonlight as his eyes survey the three bodies approaching the encampment. His smile is wicked and glinting against the dark, his hair is wind-beaten and unruly, and his muscled chest draws in heavy, labored breaths as he struggles against his own exhaustion. 

Even so, he is beautiful. And deadly.

“You got one more fight in you, big guy?” you say to Cassian regarding him warily as the three men approach.

“I should be offended you even felt the need to ask.” he says, smiling wickedly at you before charging head first into one of the three soldiers while the other two begin to circle like vultures as you descend upon them. 

The soldier underneath Cassian shouts orders to his comrades but is quickly drowned out by the sickening crack of his neck as Cassian cradles his softening body in his strong arms. 

In a flurry of movement you attack one of the other assailants with a fierce determination that sends you both tumbling to the ground in a violent struggle as you grapple with him. It takes a few moments but once he is disarmed you overpower him with a rehearsed ease as your dagger kisses his neck and you watch as his flesh gives way and his blood oozes hot and thick against the gravel.

You take a moment to gather your wits again, feeling slightly disoriented as you pry yourself away from the thicket of flowering bushes you had landed in before you see Cassian again. 

A sudden rush of wind and a flash of movement that your eyes follow instinctively as Cass falls into view. He’s sprawled face down in the dirt near the bushes on the west side of the encampment, two bodies at either side of him. 

Unmoving and silent. 

Worry pools in your stomach when Cassian does not roll over with his signature smile on his face, the one that makes you weak in the knees. Instead he stays there, in the first, eerily still. 

“Shit, Cassie” you ask, throat hoarse and you hand on your hip as you catch your breath, “You alive over there?”

Only Cassian doesn’t respond. He’s hunched over in the thicket of ferns and blackthorn bushes. You can hear his breaths, broken and ragged, as they come in sporadic succession. 

Tentatively, you sink to your knees beside him. Still he doesn’t move. Your heart hammers violently in your chest and a wave of nausea washes over you. When he turns to face you.

His brows are drawn together and his full lips sulk before pulling into a frown as he holds a small flowering plant in his large, calloused hands. He’s sheened in a thin veil of sweat and you can hear the fluttering of his heart in his heaving chest. 

He lets the flower fall limply in his hand.

It’s an unusual little thing.

Tender stemmed and pale pink petals that split open to reveal chartreuse orbs of pollen. 

The air is cloyingly sweet, like candied rhubarb and honey.

You blink a few times as the word begins to falter around you and you fall to your knees in the mud. 

The world spins on its axis and blurs at its edges as the white spots cloud your vision momentarily. 

By the time you come to night has fallen over the camp casting the world in amethyst moonglow. 

“Cassie?” You call out into the night.

You take a few moments to gather your wits and survey your surroundings. You’re in the main tent of the enemy camp and for a moment panic sinks low in your stomach, twisting and coiling. There’s heat too.

You’re so hot.

But there is no sun for which to ascribe the terrible heat that blooms in your chest. It runs a steady line from your fluttering heart and pools between your slick thighs.

You rise on unsteady feet from the bedroll and walk out into the night air. It’s cool as it kisses your skin but offers you little relief for the aching heat between your legs.

Cassian is pressed against the wagon in front of the campfire, his skin glows a soft ochre in the firelight and you notice then that he has rid himself of his shirt. The exposed contours of his chest glisten in the light of the flame and he looks haunted.

“Cassie,” you plead as you approach him carefully. Momentarily taken aback by the pure unadulterated need in your tone.

Cassian turns to you suddenly and there is a hypnotic, sinking dread painted on his face as he takes you in. The skin sheened in sweat and the flushed skin on your cheeks and the tips of your breasts. The sporadic rise and fall of  your chest. 

“Stay where you are,” He warns, his arm outstretched to you, “you need to stay away.”

You stop in your tracks for a moment to take him in.

He smells like fir trees and ginger.

“Cass what are you talking abou-” you ask before his voice cuts you off.

“please,” He says through grit teeth, his voice is thunderous and settles in your chest like a lead weight. “Just go!”

“Cass, I-i don’t understand,” your voice softens as you take in the pained expression on his face.

You remain firmly in place, mere feet between your body and his, and you can’t fight the heat that flashes through you then. Nor the ache between your legs as your eyes trail over his chest and toned thighs clad in his leathers. 

Another pained groan from Cassian has you inching further towards him, your hands outstretched in caution as you close the distance between the two of you. 

You lower yourself onto the ground, resting on your knees as you take his chin between your fingers, turning it in your firm grasp. His face, once golden, is pallid and veiled in sweat, his jaw, once set in determination, is slack and the words that leave him are pained. Tained with something darker. 

“No, you don’t understand,” Cassian laughs cruelly, his eyes ardent gold boring into yours before flicking to your lips and then back. His voice is hoarse, and wanting. Animalistic.

“Yo-you need to leave, princess.” He whispers, it’s laden with dark promise as he rasps “or I’m not gonna be able to stop myself.”

You let go of his chin and fall back onto your knees.

“Stop yourself from doing what, Cass?” you narrow your eyes at him.

Cassian visibly stiffens, the muscles in his broad shoulders tense against you and his whole body seems to follow suit. His fingers flex around nothing, clawing at the floor in an attempt to ground himself as a wave of something washes over him.

The snarl that tears through him is inhuman.

Your trembling hands reach for him, brushing the hairs that stick to his forehead back and away from his face as you whisper reassurances to him. 

“It’s going to be okay, Cass,” You murmur affectionately, “I’m not going to leave you.”

There's desperation in the air as you continue to comfort him through the onslaught of…well, whatever it is. He convulses violently in your hold and only when the convulsing subsides do you place a hand against his bare chest. 

The jolt of electricity you feel as your hand comes to rest against his muscled chest elicits another growl from him. He whines desperately at your touch and heat pools between your thighs once more. 

“You can’t,” he says, taking your hand delicately before pushing you away with such force that it nearly knocks you backwards.

“You can’t touch me like that.” He laughs cruelly as he cards a hand through his damp curls. 

Cassian heaves a heavy breath and releases a broken cry like some sort of wounded animal. He looks utterly undone. 

Your eyes trail him hungrily as heat rises in you again. It’s unbearable the pull you feel to him. The way your body reacts to his. 

It’s then your eyes fall onto his leather clad legs, watching as he palms himself through the skin-tight material in a way that speaks to the pure depravity that clouds your judgment. Shame creeps up on you as your eyes meet. His eyes blown wide and darkening as he tugs his lip between his teeth while another snarl tears through him. 

“Cassian?” you say firmly, drawing his attention to you once more “What is happening?”

You don’t give him leave to stop you as you once again sink to your knees to be by his side, placing a soft palm on the curve of his jaw, forcing him to look at you. Cassian lets his body melt into your touch in response as he lets out a shaky breath that fans your face as his eyes search yours desperately. 

He seems to sober at your touch as the world around him falls into perfect view once more. 

“The flowers,” he says, his voice hoarse and strained, “the-they only grow deep in the Steppes.”

“The flowers?” you repeat tentatively, “What do they do?” you ask. 

“They use them in rituals,” he clarifies, his eyes boring into yours as if willing you to understand. 

When you don’t seem to catch his meaning he breathes deeply before continuing “They lower your inhibitions completely until all that is left is your basest desires.” He stresses the last part hoping to jog your memory.

“Oh.” is all you say as realization settles in your bones and a new wave of arousal washes over you. You squeeze your thighs together hoping to find some temporary relief. But to no avail. 

Cassian seems to go ridgid as the change in the air becomes apparent. It’s electric and heavy charged as he looks to you once more and his eyes glaze over with lust. 

“You need to leave,” He warns his large hand coming to cover yours and he squeezes with all the tender reassurance he can manage in his half-delirious state, “right NOW!”.

The tension rises when the scent of his arousal hits you. Dark musk and sweat tainted with the faint smell of florals that sends your senses into overdrive. The urge to reach out and touch him is always maddening as he lets out another agonized snarl. 

“Please, princess,” he pleads once again, “I won’t be able to hold off for much longer.” his voice is dark now and laden with desire as his eyes trail your form beneath your leathers. 

You smell so good. He murmurs so low that the sound burns into the darkest, most base parts of your mind. That murmur you will think about in the nights to come. 

“I can’t leave you, Cass,” you say seriously watching the way his brows knit together before allowing his jaw to go lax. 

“I won’t leave you.” 

“You have to,” he huffs as he palms his cock through the material of his leathers again, a sharp hiss leaving him at once, “or I-I’ll not be able to stop myself.” 

“And you won’t either.” 

The words hang heavy in the air as he allows the gravity of the situation to settle around you both and you try to ignore the way his words send a wave of pure unadulterated pleasure through you. 

“And if I don’t want to stop you?” your hands trace lazy patterns into the slick skin of his chest, following the lines of his inky tattoos. 

“Fuck darling,” he says letting his forehead to rest  against yours as his eyes flutter shut,  “you can’t say things like that to me and expect me to be able to control myself.” he chuckles darkly. 

“Not when you’re lookin’ at me like that,” he takes your jaw between his thumb and index finger to bring your lips to his before placing a tender kiss there.

“Not when I can practically taste you.” His tone is much darker now as he nips at your  lower lips to pull you into a bruising kiss.

“Then let me help you,” you whisper airily, your fingers ghosting along his arms, following the contours of his chest, running gently over the swell of his pectoral muscles, down along the ridge of his abs and coming to rest on the  deep ‘v’ that disappears into the hem of  his leathers. 

Your free hand comes to the hinge of his sharp jaw, cupping his face as you pepper wet kisses along the skin there. 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” he says, his voice tense and body malleable under your deft touch. It takes all his self-control to insist again “I won’t ask that of you.”

In truth, you’ve wanted him this way for the better half of two decades but now, looking at him, all desperation and depravity, you’re not sure there’s any going back to the way things were. You want to be his friend. But you want this more.

You want to watch him come undone around you. You want to feel the rough pads of his fingers and they bruise the tender flesh of your hips and thighs. You want it to be you who he finds release. It has to be you. 

“You’re not asking, Cass” you remind him, your hands coming to grip his face, “let me help you.” 

He looks at you and something flashes in his hazel eyes; it's something dark and needy. A wordless plea. 

He nods gingerly, letting his hands come to rest on your hips, his fingers digging into the skin so tight that he is sure to leave his mark upon you. 

As you swing a leg over him so that his lower half is caged between your spread thighs he lets out to growl he has been holding. It’s feral and steeped in want. He’s near a primal trance by the time your hands find their home wrapped around his broad, strong shoulders as he bears your weight in his lap, letting you grind your wet core against him. 

The whine that leaves you as his thigh comes into contact with your clothed core is perverse and has you clenching around nothing. Your body sings in his bruising grip and you fit in his lap like you were made for him. 

His kisses are brutal and leave you half-breathless as he pulls away to gaze into your eyes. 

“I won’t be gentle with you.” he warns sternly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. When he finds none he wastes no time taking the material of your leathers between his strong palms and pulling until they are bursting at their seams. Giving way to his strong grip and exposing your bare flesh to him. 

The sound that leaves you as your bare cunt comes into contact with the cool night air is pornographic and has Cassian groaning into the bare skin of your shoulder. 

“I don’t want you to be gentle with me, Cass” you say to him as your lips skim his.

“I can take it.” you breath airily nodding to him. 

He doesn’t say anything but dips his head into the curve of your neck before parting his lips. The feeling of his teeth sinking into the junction of your neck and shoulder feels as close to heaven as you might ever get. 

As your back arches away from him in protest Cassian takes the opportunity to free himself from his leathers with a pained hiss that melts into soft whimpers as you grind against him. 

He looks so beautiful like this; lips parted as his hand strokes his hardened length, the heavy length of him angry and red as the beads of precum glisten like pearls at his tip. He releases a heavy breath and pumps himself once more before dragging the head of his cock through the slick of your folds, gathering your arousal before pulling you down onto him with a force that sends tingles down the line of your spine.

You sink down onto him painfully slowly, savoring the dull ache as you take a moment to accommodate to his size. 

“Takin’ my cock so well, princess.” he hisses through clenched teeth as you sink down impossibly further. He splays an open hand over the bulge in your stomach pressing lightly as he begins to roll his hips at a brutal pace. He moves without warning, unforgiving and cruel as he fucks into you roughly. 

“‘Thought about this so many times, Cass.” you say burying your face into the crook of his neck as his hips snap against yours as you grind down onto his cock.

Cassian falters momentarily, a glimpse of the man you know through the haze of his carnal trance. His eyes glow golden in the low light and his hands come to hold your face in place as he brushes the stands away from your face behind the shell of your ear as he places a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose before his eyes darken once again. 

“I’ve thought about it too, princess” he says softly to you, barely more than a whisper.

He takes hold on you firmly, one hand spread across the expanse of your back and one on your hip as he flips you over with all his brute strength, his careful hand beneath you cushioning your fall. 

“Thought about how you’d look wrapped around my cock,” he growls, pulling all the way out of you before sinking back in with a harsh rut of his hips that  has you fluttering around his cock like a velvet vice.

“How pretty you’d sound begging for my come,” he groans as you wrap your legs around the small of his back, pushing him deeper into you as you moan gospel into the shell of his ear. 

“Beggin’ for me to make you mine.” It takes you by surprise as the words leave him, his voice is low and dark but laced with a certain clarity that rings true. 

You want him to claim you. Make you his. 

“Then make me yours, Cassie.” You beg prettily, your eyes boring into his with a vulnerable desperation.

He stares at you for a moment, a strange look of longing and awe on his beautiful face before it morphs into something carnal and animalistic that makes arousal coil in your stomach.

His amber eyes meet yours again, his hands coming to rest at either side of your head when your legs wrap tight around his middle as he resumes his brutal pace. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says as his calloused palm runs over a hardened nipple before enclosing your breast and squeezing with fond pressure, “and all mine.” he finishes quietly, murmuring to himself. 

Cassian pulls back slowly so that he comes to rest on his knees, his large hands honing in on your thighs and pushing them further apart exposing your cunt to him with a guttural moan as he regards the way you’re wrapped around him. The milky ring that appears at the base of his cock and the way your back arches with each slow drag of his cock as it reaches that spongy spot inside of you. 

“This pussy is mine,” he snarls, fucking into you again before finding his brutal pace,  “look at how well you take my cock, baby.” he praises. 

“Like you were made for me.” he murmurs to himself, reveling in the feeling of your tight cunt fluttering around him again. A ripple of pleasure roars through him again when he feels you pulse around him and he senses your inevitable orgasm as you begin to chase it. 

“Say it, princess” he commands you, his breath hot and dangerous as he lowers himself so that you are chest to chest, “I need to hear you say it.”.

You nod enthusiastically, your hands coming to tangle in his hair, dipping down to his broad shoulders, tracing the lines of his tattoos as you roll your hips to meet his. 

“I’m yours, Cassian,” You confirm, your voice certain and thick with need. It’s desperate and depraved the way you beg for him until your voice is hoarse. 

I need you. Need you to fill me up. To make me yours. 

The words break apart in your mouth as your pleasure hits you like a tidal wave that crashes to the shore with a violent shudder.

“That’s it baby,” Cassian whispers as he fucks you through the last ripples of your orgasm. He draws one hand to rest against your abdomen, pressing lightly so that he can feel his cock move deep inside of you. 

In a feverish desperation you claw at him, his shoulders, his waist, the delicate flesh of his sculpted thighs drawing him impossibly closer to you. 

His own growl comes out in a broken rasp as he starts to lose himself to the euphoric feeling of your cunt clenching around him again in a desperate struggle. 

You cling to him fighting to find purchase, to brace yourself against the steady wall of muscle while Cassian chases his own orgasm, setting a cruel pace that begins to blur the lines between pleasure and pain and threatens to tear a broken sob from as you fight against the urge to come on his cock again. 

You kiss him desperately; nipping at his collar bones before pressing bruising kisses into his neck, mapping the broad expanses of his chest before coming to rest at the junction between his neck and the sharp line of his jaw.

Chest to chest, his heart thunders violently against yours and with every hungry kiss he seems to slip further into his primal trance. Another feral snarl rips through his chest as your lips connect in a kiss that tears the breath from you. It’s ceaseless, and leaves you senseless as he keeps fucking you at his brutal pace. 

It’s all consuming and devouring as Cassian gives in to his basest desire, drawing his cock all the way out before driving back in with an animalistic force that has you coming undone with a gentle sob.

Cassian slumps against you so close you can feel his beating heart as he groans against you, kissing the skin of your neck before coming to your parted lips, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake, all while his hands map the contours of your body. 

“That’s it, Cass,” you encourage him gently, pulling at the curls at the base of his neck as you feel him pulse inside of you as his hips begin to slow to a tortuous and teasing drag as he finds his release.

You feel the heavy tip of hip pulse violently in your cunt, the thick vein that runs along the underside of his marble length and the warm ropes of cum that coat your walls until you feel his release leaking out of you. It is depraved, the way your legs tighten against him, unwilling to let him go just yet.

His chest heaves, the rise and fall sporadic and wild as he breathlessly collapses against you, the weight of him a comforting crush as you chase the last waves of pleasure as your heart plateaus to a steady rhythm. 

You look at him through thick lashes searching for any sign of regret but finding only a strange reverence and unspoken longing in his amber irises. It is a longing you have wanted to see in him for so long. And perhaps it has always been there, behind the darks of his eyes but now, in this light, they shine with it. It glints in his eyes with a knowing acknowledgement that it is keenly felt and received.

He’s dazed and still half-wild when he places another kiss on your lips. This time it is tender and loving. Not completely free of lust but there is something else there too. Something new and sacred and gentle. 

His hair is damp and his skin glows golden in the dying light of the fire and the air is still thick with the smell of your union but you feel somehow lighter. Unburdened by the release of emotion you’ve both been holding for so long. You breathe deeply and your body relaxes into his once more. 

Like you were made for him and him alone. 

“You alright, princess?” he asks softly in a way that arches on anxious as his eyes meet yours in an unwavering stare.

“I’m just fine, Cassie.” You smile carefully, bringing a hand to rest on his cheek, rubbing tentative circles into the skin there. 

“We’re going to be just fine.”

Cassian searches you for any sign of uncertainty all he finds in its place is love. A love that burns bright against the dark skies. A love that comforts him in the knowledge that his life is forever changed by what passed between them. A love that will warm him through the long nights. 

The smile that blooms on his face is one full of ardour and child-like awe as he takes you in once again. Pressed so tight against him that he can feel the curve of your breast and the beating of your heart. Skin flush against him and flesh malleable in his deft grasp. 

His eyes trail the line of your body, committing the curves and divots to memory as he recalls the sound of you coming undone around him again. In his memory it sounds  like birdsong or some ancient song. Hypnotic and depraved.

He had dreamt of this so many times before and in the haze of dreaming you always felt so real. But having you here, in his arms feels like some cruel trick. 

Like he’s just waiting for realization to set in. For you to recoil in unadulterated horror. 

But you never do. 

Instead, you take his face in your hands again and kiss him with a devotion that you reserve only for him before opening your mouth to whisper to him what he assumes are words of reverence and praise. 

“I hope you know we’re going to do that again.” and your laugh sounds like birdsong in his ear.

[maybe-a-dinosaur]

seijoh 4 as summer camp employees

hanamaki takahiro is BUILT for this he has fun hair he’s weird he’s engaging his he’s colorful his water bottle is covered in stickers he has sandals on toes Out he is shameless he’s kinda unhinged it so works. he’s a counselor but almost never has a cabin to himself he’s more like a sub if someone else has gets sick or whatever but when he shows up it’s like a celebrity sighting a monumentous occasion. if he’s not needed anywhere else he’s helping out with arts and crafts his favorite artworks are the ones where you can’t tell what the fuck it’s supposed to be. he has lots of string friendship bracelets he knows how to make them but lies whenever someone asks he just gives them one he gatekeeps cuz he thinks it’s funny and teaching is too much work. he tells the most Outrageous ghost stories and is the reason only half of the kids will go in the lake he talks about bigfoot and campers who went missing and the town’s curse he is carrying on legacies he is SO fun.

iwaizumi hajime is the Coolest fucking counselor ever. bandana around his head sleeves cut off of the uniform tshirt (muscle tee now) he has friendship bracelets a beat up watch one anklet his water bottle is on its last leg he has a dinosaur keychain on his backpack he like epitomizes cool guy the kids idolize him. his cabin wins every single camp-wide competition every time like he’s peak athleticism and he’s just like so awesome or whatever it’s contagious. he picks kids up and throws them in the lake and pool if a frisbee gets stuck in a tree he gets it every time he caught a snake once and took it back to the woods everyone wants to sit next to him in the mess hall he can’t build a fire and is mad about it he sleeps like a fucking Rock and snores like a lawnmower and eats enough for 3 people at every meal.

oikawa tooru is a lifeguard. at the pool at the lake he’s always around the water somehow and Everyone has a crush on him. up on his lifeguard chair sunglasses on his skin is all golden whistle around his neck or spinning on his finger his hair somehow always looks good he wears a headband one day and someone literally faints. he teaches swimming and canoeing lessons and is really good at it he almost Never has to save anyone for someone who works by the water you’d think they’d swim a little more. he’s pretty quiet when he’s on duty he takes the job seriously but he’s a fucking motormouth when he’s off that chair he will Not shut up. he sits w the boys at meals running that fucking mouth pisses them off So Bad he blatantly flirts/fights with iwaizumi when the kids aren’t around and Refuses to get into a canoe with him bc it always ends up getting flipped. he’s really good with the younger kids they’re his favorite to work with but he is generally well liked throughout the camp he’s like everyone’s counselor crush and he always eats raisin bran for breakfast.

matsukawa issei is the camp cryptid he works with the older kids who like go backpacking and spend all their time in the woods he emerges looking like he’s been there all his life. he kinda just appears sometimes doing odd jobs taking things to the lost and found feeding the chickens fishing things out of the lake general camp maintenance he materializes out of the trees with a fire extinguisher a neon yellow backpack and a missing camper. he’s often accompanied by the camp dog so there are theories (encouraged by takahiro) that he’s actually a werewolf and that’s why he’s everywhere some people think he is the camp dog issei thinks this is very funny. the only place he’s consistently found is the mess hall at meals otherwise when not wandering or in the forest he can be found hanging out with hiro coming up with new ghost stories playing some sort of sport with hajime or pouring water on tooru’s head wherever he happens to be. issei is the best campfire builder on the property and some of the kids are scared of him he never has his phone can only be contacted by walkie-talkie he is the jack of all trades.

[kangen-wanshi]

How Do You Love? ft. Gepard Landau, Sampo Koski

General relationship headcanon.

Tags: separate, mostly fluff but there are some suggestive things mentioned in Sampo's

A/N: I have like 4 people asking for this I hope I did this right

With All Of His Heart: Gepard Landau

Gepard is a soft, gentle lover. He enjoys walks, quick kisses in public, and holding your hand whenever you’re within his proximity. But he’s also fierce and passionate. As a Landau his commitment to a relationship goes far and beyond - and that is a promise he gave you when he first took hold of your hand.

When it comes to work, unfortunately, Gepard will prioritize his duty over you. He will prioritize a call from the Supreme Guardian over your dates, apologizing profusely while peppering your face with regretful kisses or paragraphs of apology, before he went off to finish his duty. As his lover, he hoped that you would be patient with him. He loves you, truly, but in a world like Jarilo-VI and in a city like Belobog, if he were to fall, the fate of the entire population on the planet would be doomed as well.

Although if it’s something more casual like perhaps a call from his subordinate - he can slack off a little and pass on the duty to someone else capable like perhaps Dunn, or even his sister if he’s in a pinch. He values his job, yes, but he still loves you, so any minor work that comes outside of his schedule or responsibility will go to someone else.

That being said, when he makes up for all the times lost due to his deployment in the Frontline, Gepard pays extra attention to your dates and your meet-ups, as well as behind closed doors. He holds you more often, his grip lingers and leaves a trail of comforting warmth against Belobog’s eternal coldness, he clings to you more. His most common action is having his arms around you from the back or the front and burying his head onto the crook of your neck.

Gepard honors his duty to protect the people, but.. He doesn’t mind indulging in your protection every now and then. At the start of your relationship he won’t say that he likes being held by you, but further into it, he will be shameless in asking for you to hold him in private. He likes putting his head close to your chest, hearing your heartbeat, having you hold him so close, caressing him so carefully, in fear that he might break any second. He enjoy your gentle loving, and your warm, protective embrace around him.

Little gifts and dates are obvious! Since the Overworld and the Underworld don't really have much ‘trinkets’, next to freshly grown flowers, most of his gifts to you are handmade (with the help of his sister). Hair clips, gloves, scarf, or even jackets, his gifts are often something that you can wear. He doesn’t admit to it, and no one really takes notice, but Gepard seems to really enjoy the idea of his gifts being somewhat of use to you even if he's away. Distance, can't really keep him away from you if he knows that you'll always have yourself wrapped with gifts sewn by his own hands.

With All Sense Of Belonging: Sampo Koski

Ah Sampo Koski, local troublemaker, shady businessman, what else.. Oh, and a flirt. Fortunately, despite his irresistible charm and overwhelming presence, Sampo doesn’t really flirt much. He persuades people, yes, but he rarely uses flirtation or other people’s feelings to get what he wants. So when he flirts with you, you know he already has his eyes on you deep.

Though it’s easy to suspect his motive, but based on his own version of Preservation, his intention finally got through to you after many, many, many unfortunate attempts on your side of ignoring his charm and smile, as well as his for almost being caught several times by Gepard in suspicion of harassing you. All in all, good for you! You’ve landed a fortunate hit dating him now!

Sampo doesn’t look like it but he’s an easily jealous man. He trusts you wholeheartedly, yes, he just doesn't trust whoever it is that dares to approach you with further intent. A hand that was placed on your lower back now sneaked to pull you closer by your waist, and his ever easygoing smile switched to something more.. Threatening, as Threatening as he could make it.

Talk about threatening, it's uncommon for his 'rivals' to attempt to use you to throw him off of his game. Telling him the various bad things they may do to you should he try to further be a pain in their business. Sampo has no worries, of course. Sure it boils his blood that they even dare to think of using you to get to him - but he has his ways. Whether he has to use his own weapon to draw the necessary conclusions, or should he call for a favor from the Trailblazer, either way, for you, he's willing to do anything. 

He likes taking you on various walks! Sampo is a very adventurous individual, how else would he be able to tread the mazes that are the Underground and the Overworld if it's not for his highly experienced human compassion? He uses this opportunity away from you to find various spots where you can view the scenery of Belobog, above and below, in the most beautiful way possible. To see a beautiful garden of raw untouched Geomarrow, or even a beautiful night sky that is just located at the outskirts of Belobog, he'll take you to places that can stop your breath for a moment.

Sampo doesn't have any 'vulnerable' side. Even to you, he acted mostly the same. Albeit more clingy, and more touchy with his hands and his lips. Although perhaps there is a side to him that you managed to unfold - that is him, being overly possessive of you.

Sampo likes to mark things that belong to him. Living a life such a his can lead to him having to part with mortal rich and people on occasion, just to keep himself going at a stable pace. So when he has you, when you've bound yourself to him in this so-called deal of a relationship, he doesn't want to let you go, ever.

So he'll mark you. Whether it be physically with his teeth or giving you accessories to match himself, he'll do it. PDA is something that he shamelessly would do - unless you wish otherwise. He will always have his hand on you one way or another, a hand on your thigh, a hand on your lower back, around your waist or shoulder, his chest pressing up on your back - anything. If he's near, he will touch you. Kisses are also common, on the cheek, lips, hands, sometimes someone will have to tear him away from you to keep him focused on the task at hand - he can't help it! You're so tempting and he just wants to be near you!

In that final note, someone has definitely caught you two being.. Intimate before. Was it by accident or did he purposely stage for the specific person to see? Who knows. Just be prepared for a lot of things to come when you're with him.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hi, so I saw that your request for tokio hotel are open. Can I request dating headcanons with Tom? Have a nice day!

(hello! I had time and I was bored so what the hell? Here ya go! Bear with me, it's my first Tom one and I hope you like it! If anyone else does, please tell me if you would like more in the comments!)

Dating Tom Headcannons

He would be the proudest boyfriend I feel like

On stage he's like 

"That's my babe! Over there, not you- them! Them!" 

All excited and stuff

But he is flirty

Doesn't matter where or when

Is extremely flirty

Would be the person to just sneak in a kiss before going on stage and be like "it's for good luck" so you have no choice but to give in

If you have a style similar to his, he would love it

If you don't, he would still like it

He thinks you look good either way, and he's still gonna flirt with you

Is not a possessive person, like you can do what you want and stuff but if something goes too far he'll say something or if someone makes you uncomfortable

But he's not the type to say "don't hang out with them" or stuff like that about your friends or he wouldn't feel threatened by another guy

He wouldn't feel threatened because he knows who he is, and that you're already his partner so he's locked down and ready to go

He finds it funny when someone tries flirting with you

He'll just be in bothered and go up to you and kiss you

He doesn't take offense to it

You're pretty man, why wouldn't you be flirted with?

He takes it as an accomplishment

They flirt with you but he's the one with you

Same with fans from his side, if you're okay with like kisses on the cheek from fangirl he'll be good to go

But if you're not, hell do his best to avoid them and give them hugs or smth idk

If you have a piercing or lots of piercings, he'll love them 

He loves anything about you man

Is definitely the one to pull you onto his lap anytime

If you're in the band, he'll do it in interviews or anywhere in general

Even if you're not in the band, he'll do it all the time

When he notices paparazzi taking pictures of you guys, he'll purposefully give them a picture of you guys almost full on making out

He is shameless

If you're in the band, he'll be having the time of his life on stage with you

He'd be behind you and kiss your neck just because he can

Does not give a single fucking of how many people are in the arena or the audience

He's the type to let you take his shit

Like shirts, rings, pants, hats, anything

He likes how you look in them

Kisses your knuckles or the back of your hand sometimes to substitute kisses

Or he'll be messing with your hair

Oddly likes having his head in your lap or your head in his

He'll take your stuff and act like he doesn't know where it went to keep you from leaving

"I don't know where it went, could you have dropped it when we were walking back? Looks like you'll have to stay."

He has it in his pocket.

Is proud anytime he sees you in the crowd or backstage

Or after a set or concert he'll just be asking you if you liked his performance

Please tell him he did great

He won't take anything else except that

If you aren't in the band, he would like that you got along with his brother and band mates

And especially if you got close with Bill, he'd probably fear being the target of pranks

He doesn't feel threatened no matter how close you get to his brother or Georg or Gustav

They're his closest friends and he trusts them and you so he has nothing to worry about

Has a lot of trust in your relationship if you couldn't tell

If you played a instrument or sing in shy type of way, he'd love it even more

He'd be a flirty and proud boyfriend of the century

Even if you guys did break up, not that I'm saying you will, he will forever have a specific and special place for you no matter how much time passes by

[mybelovedwoo]

Can you do wooyoung as a boyfriend? :D

YESS! I've been waiting for this request for a long time, thank you so much <3 I hope you'll enjoy :)) I'm sorry it took a while to write this, but I got caught up with a busy schedule all of a sudden.

jung wooyoung as your boyfriend - headcanon

headcanon, romance, fluff, smut

reader x bf!atz

wc. ~0.9k

an: i'm weak for this man you all know

you can request headcanons if you want to!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

masterlist

-i think we all know that wooyoung is your brat best friend type of boyfriend, who always puts you before himself and takes such good care of you, still can never stop teasing you

-he needs a lot of attention, like a lot. if your attention is not on him he will get all sulky and clingy. he would annoy you just to give him what he wants. even when you're talking to someone else he will cling to you from the back or to your arms

-but if the opposite happens, he just loves it so so much, it's one of his ways to tease you. he would play a video game or be on his phone and you would beg for his attention, he wouldn't give in so easily, but there would always be a cocky smile on his face

-gives you presents all the damn time, it's one of his love languages, he loves giving in general, especially when it comes to you. even if it's just a chocolate or a jewelry he will buy it when he thinks of you

-would even buy you pieces of clothes that he already has or buy one for himself too, so you guys could match in a cool way 

-he cooks your favorite dishes every date night. loves to experiment with food, you are his taste tester and would be the happiest when he sees you love what he made just for you

-also gives you all his food from his plate, he wants you to eat well, but you want the same for him so you always fight over it 

-late-night walk hand in hand by the river, watching all the night lights of the city, him giving you his jacket because you refused to bring yours, but now he freezes to death but loves it at the same time, stopping by a convenient store to buy snacks and ice cream, yeah that's just a casual friday night

-lots and lots of kisses. just gives you random kisses on your cheeks, doesn't care where or who is there it doesn't stop him (his members are already used to it)

-would kiss you passionately until you lose your breath, then he would smile to a final kiss because he feels proud of himself

-on facetime with you 24/7 when he's on tour

-he is basically best friends with your family and friends, in return, you are best friends with his mom

-has heart eyes for you, doesn't break eye contact, and flirts with you every given minute

-have cheeky nicknames for you like pookie, nugget, pumpkin (anything that he can think of at the moment), but your contact name is the sweetest "my one and only", also you are his wallpaper for sure

-brings you with him everywhere, literally you two are connected (at least that's what his members are saying). he brings you to work, you have to watch him dance and then review it or to a filming, you're always somewhere behind the cameras 

-would want to move in with you as soon as he can, because he doesn't want to spend any time without you

-calls you his wife in front of the members and his family, because you will be one day, he's sure about that

-if you're dating woo it means sometimes there's a plus one on your dates, san feels a little weird about it, he thinks he interrupts your special time but loves to hang out with you guys

-he hates it when san and you are allying against him, but deep down loves to see that you get along well, his two soulmates

-you have to cuddle him so he can fall asleep at night, usually you are the big spoon because this man loves to be cuddled

-his hand is constantly on your thighs or on your ass, he's shameless about it

-he is whipped for you, would literally do anything you ask him to do

nsfw +18!!!

-lots of people think he is a tease in bed too, but I think he is quite the opposite. wooyoung is a very impatient person, he cannot wait for long, especially when he wants you so bad

-I think I don't have to say it, but he is a sub in bed. likes to be taken care of and likes to be on the bottom

-there are times when he wants to take care of you tho, so he would switch and make you feel good all night long

-his hands all over your body, would touch everywhere he can reach, just can't get enough of you

-loves it when you kiss his neck, that's something he gets turned on immediately, also just compliment his body and this man is done right there

-very noisy, lots of whimpers and moans, doesn't really care if someone hears it

-i think he gets worked up pretty easily, so you guys would have sex every single time you meet or you sleep over at each other's place

-for positions, I would say cowgirl is the most common, but he likes everything where you are on the top and he can see you well

-blowjob is a must, even if you don't have sex, at a random bathroom of a restaurant or at the dance studio

-he needs cuddles after, just wants to hold you close to him and would praise you for such a good work you did, would definitely take good care of you after, brings you food and clean clothes, would feel very grateful and sentimental at these moments

[shadowtriovibes]

Hello,

Can you write some shameless pre-relationship Sebastian x mc flirting? Like pining, comparing hand sizes, teasing about height, all that cringe cute stuff! Just go off on that however you like!

hello anon!! here's a quick 1.5k pg-rated words for you because i'd just started a little drabble of MC working at j pippin's for the summer and it turned into two goofy teens in love 🥹

edit: i felt like this deserved a name so i'm calling it "the potioneer's apprentice" and i personally love a potion-loving MC characterization very much so i may return to this 'verse later on xoxo

"I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself," you point out. Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders. "W-well, yours is better," he insists. "Always has been, even Sharp said so." "It's even better now," you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. "...You're not actually hurt, are you?" "No, just bored," he admits. "I wanted to see you."

Staring down at the order slip in your hands, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

Mr. Sebastian Sallow Feldcroft Hamlet

x3 Wiggenweld x1 Focus x1 Felix Felicis

“Simple enough,” Parry Pippin says cheerfully, tucking a knut into the pocket of the postal owl that had just dropped off your latest order. “I’ll put together the Liquid Luck, I know that’s a tricky one.”

Bustling over to his potions station, he adds, “I trust brewing the Wiggenweld and Focus draughts should be no problem for you?”

“Of course,” you say, quickly tying up your hair before lighting a fire beneath the cauldron at your own station.

You’ve been an apprentice at J. Pippin’s Potions for just over a month, refining your potions skills over the summer break – and helping keep an eye on things in Hogsmeade. In that time, your brewing skills have improved significantly, and Parry is more than happy to pass on some of the simpler potions to you.

Attempting to be casual, you ask, “Will this be a delivery?”

“Oh, I should think so,” Parry confirms. “Though it’s not exactly my neck of the woods.”

“Would you like me to drop it off?” you offer hopefully.

“How about this,” Parry offers. “I’ll send you down to the hamlet to drop these off, and then you can call it a day.”

“Thank you, Mister Pippin,” you say with a grin.

Your boss smiles approvingly as you carefully pour some horklump juice into your cauldron, precisely tapping the side of the bottle as he’d taught you.

“Besides,” he says cheekily. “I think this is the third time this month that young mister Sallow has ordered from my shop and requested delivery, even though Fatimah’s shop is much closer.”

You nearly spill the entire bottle.

“Any idea why a Hogwarts student on summer break would need so many potions?” Parry asks, smirking to himself as he pours some lacewing flies into his cauldron.

“W-well, I – I suppose he could be clumsy,” you mumble unconvincingly. “O-or stocking up, perhaps. We’ve got N.E.W.T. classes next term, some of these spells are quite challenging, a-and the beasts, we’ve got Grindylows to examine, you know how they bite…”

You trail off feebly, blushing a bright red. The Wiggenweld potion in your cauldron signals its completion with a puff of smoke, offering a welcome distraction.

“Aye, of course,” Parry murmurs, sounding very much like he doesn’t believe you in the slightest. “In any case, as soon as you finish that Focus potion I’ll send you on your way.”

Quickly ladling three portions of Wiggenweld into Parry's glass vials, you scrub out your cauldron and prepare the last draught, wrinkling your nose at the smell of dugbog tongue. Once it starts to smoke and bubble, you measure out a generous portion and collect the Felix Felicis from your boss, tucking the lot into your satchel.

“Please thank young Sebastian for his order, and tell him I said good day,” Parry tells you with a wink. “And to kindly stop pilfering my apprentice so often.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply sheepishly.

Outside the shop, you trek outside the boundaries of Hogsmeade to hop onto your broom and head south toward Feldcroft. It had been more than a week since you’d seen Sebastian, which felt like an eternity compared to how often you saw him during the school year.

One month into your break and you feel like a simpering wreck.

You miss him like crazy – not that you’d tell him like that, of course. He’s your closest friend, and the two of you have been through so much together in the past two years. You aren’t about to ruin it by confessing that you’re hopelessly in love with him.

—

Sebastian is not moping.

And even if he was, why shouldn’t he mope? He’s alone, it’s swelteringly hot in the hamlet and he hasn’t seen his best friend in a week.

He’s bored, and when Sebastian gets bored, he gets creative.

Really, it’s almost too easy to summon you to Feldcroft. All it took was a quick trip to see the owl post stand and another superfluous order for some potions (with a little bit of Liquid Luck thrown in on a whim), and he knew you’d arrive by the time the heat broke.

He conveniently manages to be tending to his small garden when you touch down beside the Sallow home, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows while he pats some dirt around a sprig of fluxweed.

“Sallow?” You call out teasingly. “I have an order here for Sebastian Sallow?”

“Must be a lazy bloke, ordering all those Wiggenwelds instead of making them himself,” he answers, sitting back on his heels and wiping some sweat away from his brow with the back of his wrist. “Or perhaps just daft.”

“I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself,” you point out.

Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders.

“W-well, yours is better,” he insists. “Always has been, even Sharp said so.”

“It’s even better now,” you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. “...You’re not actually hurt, are you?”

“No, just bored,” he admits. “I wanted to see you.”

If Ominis were here, he’d likely pick up on how those words make your heart race a little faster, but mercifully, Sebastian does not.

“Here I am,” you say. “And I’m all yours for the day, Mister Pippin gave me the rest of the day off.”

“Oh, really?” he replies, brushing some stray dirt off of his trousers as he stands up. “Whatever could we get up to with an entire afternoon?”

You blink in surprise as he stands, realizing for the first time that Sebastian has gotten taller.

“What?” he asks, catching your gaze.

“You’ve grown,” you say dumbly. “I – I mean, you’re tall.”

“Am I?” he asks, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Perhaps you’re just short.”

“I am not short,” you protest, following Sebastian as he leads the way into the old Sallow home.

It feels different now, obviously. Less like a family home and more like a chaotic bachelor pad, Sebastian’s strewn-about books and haphazard notes covering up a distinct lack of coziness.

It’s only for the summer, Sebastian had told you the first time you’d seen it.

(You know he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go anymore, what with the Gaunt household becoming more toxic by the day. You wouldn’t be surprised to find Ominis squatting there as well by the time July rolls around.)

“You’re practically pocket-sized,” Sebastian teases, closing the door behind you to keep some of the midday sun out. “I think it’s why you’re so powerful – it’s concentrated, your magic.”

You scoff and shove at his shoulder, wondering to yourself when he became so broad.

It had only been a few weeks since school had let out, hadn’t it? And suddenly Sebastian was walking around in a man’s body, one you were sure wasn’t there in Charms class in May. Or maybe it was, hiding beneath his suit jacket and his robes…

You blink rapidly to clear your head.

“Um. Your potions,” you mumble, pulling the rest of the bottles out of your satchel and placing them on the front room table.

Then you can’t help but ask, “What’s the Felix Felicis for?”

“Not sure yet,” Sebastian admits. “But I’m sure it will come in handy at some point.”

You hum under your breath, picking up the delicate vial and examining it in the light.

“Hand it over,” Sebastian demands with a laugh. “I don’t like the way you’re looking at that bottle, I know what temptation looks like on your face.”

Blushing, you place the vial in his outstretched hand, letting your own hand linger a beat too long. Sebastian quickly catches your wrist, turning your hand palm-side up.

“Merlin’s beard, your hand is small,” he observes.

“Not this again,” you groan.

“I’m being serious, you hold your wand with this tiny thing?” he jokes. “Poor Ollivander had his work cut out for him.”

“Let’s see yours, then,” you insist, holding your hand up to him. “Go on.”

Sebastian presses his palm against yours and you raise your eyebrows. His hand dwarfs yours to the degree that he could wrap the tips of his fingers overtop yours if he wanted to.

“See?” he says, his voice suddenly much quieter in the empty home. “Tiny.”

“And yet I can still beat you in a duel,” you retort, trying to calm your racing heart.

Just like that, the tension in the room dissolves away and Sebastian lights up.

“A duel, hmm?” he echoes. “Is that an offer?”

“Seriously? That’s what you want to do today?” you laugh. “It’s thirty degrees outside and you want to duel?”

“We could practice on the training dummies,” he offers hopefully. “You know you want to.”

…Damn him, he’s right.

“Fine,” you relent. “But if I sweat through this chemise, it’s your head, Sallow.”

Sebastian tries very hard to not think about you in a sweat-soaked white shirt as you lead him back outside, and if he trips over the doorframe on his way out, he’s happy to let you continue to assume it’s just his clumsy streak.

[etheries1015]

Hellooo 1st I just wanna say that I love how you write! The fics you post almost always puts a smile on my face when I’m stressed and I just wanna thank you for that <3

Anyways I’ve been accidentally rizzing my friends up lately on accident with sweet words and I ended up thinking what would the biggest tsundere (literally) in twst do with an s/o who’s very generous with compliments and poetic with words and is shameless with how cheesy they can sound sometimes

I’m so sorry if my request is too vague huhu, have a good day! <3

THHAANNKK YOU *SMOOCHES* *GNAWS ON UR LEG* I LOVE U and may happier and less stressful times come ahead for you!

although you didn't specify which character...I picked who I believe to be the top three tsudneres of the game. Heuheuehu.

The prefects muse~

In which you find yourself utterly bemused by him, throwing out compliments and lines of infatuation that leave him a flustered wreck. How does he react to someone as valiantly passionate as you regarding your sweet words of honey?

Featuring: Idia, Riddle, Azul

Idia

Idia convinced himself you were just another introverted loser who had no care in your mind for other people, keeping to yourself, enjoying video games, and always open for degernate hours of playing video games.

what he did NOT know he was signing himself up for, was some sort of weird poet club bullshit. Yet there he was, sitting on the couch of the ramshackle dorm playing away at the new console he had gifted you he could feel your gaze burning the back of his head. Turning around slowly and almost with dread, your shit-eating grin blinded him with words of sweet-sweet cringe.

"Watching you play video games you can truly see how serious you are, it's adorable," Idia groaned with cheeks burning a bright shade of pink, burrying himself into the couch, "Ah~ I wish you would look at me like that, with such passion..."

"ugh..whhyy..." Idia murmured embarrassingly avoiding your gaze and remaining strong in holding himself together at your routine daily compliments.

"I can't help it!" You cried out theatrically, "Idiiaa...I can be like a video game. Play me, too!" That comment broke something inside of him that was supposed to be stayed hidden, his blue hair changing a bright shade of pink to signify the extent of his flustered state. You only giggled at this, as Idia attempted to hold in all self control by taking his hoodie, hoping the couch would just take him then and there.

Over time he became used to the fact that you would openly flirt with him, although that never stopped the second hand embarrassment that came along with it. What he wont tell you, though, that behind the rosey cheeks and tsundere display of dislike for your antics, was a heart that beat quickly and mind that secretly enjoyed your poetic and "old cringy" way of loving him.

Which just means your flirting is working, keep it up! <3 But maybe try to hold back in front of other people, he isn't sure how much more he can keep deflecting their raised eyebrows and teasing remarks...

riddle

Being someone who is well versed in the world of poetry and literature, he could often pin point where some of your lines may come from. His way of deflection is either correcting your sentences, or retorting with the next line. What he DOESN'T know how to deflect, is the string of compliments you give him on a day to day basis. At first he simply thought you were being kind in complimenting the way his hair shone in the sunlight- until Cater pointed out that your remarks were anything but the norm. That's when Riddle took more notice to it, realizing that your lines of poetry was not an exercise of the brain, yet an actual technique to flirt with him.

and it was working.

"Riddle~" You sang in the halls of heartslabyul, skipping much to his annoyance.

"Do not jump around in the halls," He chastised you, "What is it?" You gave him a mischievous smile with a toothy grin to match, clearing your throat and standing straight.

"My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite."

Silence reigned for a few moments as Riddle blinked a few times, squinting his eyes to give you his typical "poker face."

"Is this another one of your attempts to 'flirt' with me?" He asked, you leaning against the wall and running your fingers through your hair in a flirty and playful manner. You nodded eagerly, to which Riddle gave a sigh and walked past you to continue whatever he was doing prior to your poetic interruption. Your jaw slacked open and you skipped (again, to his annoyance) to catch up to him.

"I swear I saw a smile! Turn around and show it to me, Riddle! Was that one good? Did I capture your heart finally?" You giggled, seeing how Riddle was obviously ignoring your feeble cries of searching attention.

Yet you were correct, he couldn't help but find his cheeks as red as a rose and lips curling up in a bashful smile. He would not allow you to see how you affect him, however.

Riddle tends to just ignore your flirting, now that he has come accustomed to it. Even in front of people when you would openly compliment him, Riddle continued sipping his tea seemingly unbothered. Whenever he would get strange looks to find an explanation to your questionable behavior, he simply shrugged.

"Do not mind them, they are always like this."

But at night by his lonesome, he was repeating your words in his head a million times over, that same rose colored tint upon his cheeks and smile with a blanket hard on his grip. Perhaps giggling a time or two to himself...for he never met someone as brazen as you. Not that he was actually complaining, though.

Azul

Flirting with Azul was always a treat. His reactions were the most flamboyant out of the other tsundere boys, he never failed to get some sort of remark and complaint out of his mouth whenever you sang praises his way. He attempted to be calm and collected, but the blush that painted his cheeks betrayed his cool demeanor.

"Is that a new coat, Azul? Ohohoh you do look dashing, If I do say so myself. Did you style your hair? The way it frames your face really brings out your features-"

"Stop, stop stop! Why must you feel the need to shower me in complimets?!" He cried out, burying his face into his arms upon the deak. The pink on his ears was also unforgiving for the poor merman. You chuckled and sat next to him, patting his shouders.

"I can't help it! If I see something I like, I must voice it out. Is it too plain? I can try and be more poetic. Let's see..." You used your hand to pull his chin, forcing his gaze to meet with yours. You inwardly teased him at the vibrant hue of his cheeks and flustered face, keeping it in as you leaned forward to gaze deeply into his eyes.

"Your eyes," you started, "Shine far brighter than any I have seen, even the most silver and sparkly of diamonds pale in comparison to your-"

"e-e-enough! W-what is this?!" Azul pulled away, tucking his head back into his arms and groaning, "Just...go back to what you were doing before! None of this...diamond...and..." He trailed off, words failing him. Azul was not used to such praises from others, he spent his entire life believing the worst every moment he caught glance in a mirror with a life time of self esteem issues. So hearing you so openly compliment him always left the man flustered and blushing, cringing at every moment you tried to stroke his ego.

He never truly get's used to it, only finds ways to ignore you. When you're around others and began to make a sly comment about how his hands look nice or how his skin looks that particular day, he closes his eyes and avoids anyone's gazes with a face full of color that even the coral of the sea could not compare. He often gets teased by his fellow classmates for this, but never actually speaks up in distaste to you. He could never admit just how much your persistent compliments thoroughly means to him, and how with every word he finds himself looking in the mirror with a little more enthusiasm than he once had.

~~~

yes I like to use the headcannon that Idias hair changes color when he has really strong emotions aosdjflkasdjf

[talaok]

hi bestie, hope you’re doing good <3 can i request something please? hear me out on this one aaaa

pedro and actress!reader are co-stars and there’s a pool table around one of their sets, she mentioned that she doesn’t know how to play pool and he gladly makes it his mission to teach her how to play pool and she’s frustrated because he smells so good and he keeps whispering praises into her ear while he has her bent over the table LWIDJFNRNRMD and then they end up fucking back in her room hehe

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

Summary: a hot pool lesson with Pedro

Warnings: a bunch of shameless flirting, tension, dirty talk, and an obscene amount of pet-names, but no smut bc for some reason I've found I don't want to write smut for Pedro

a/n: girl...that's so fucking hot

"what!?" 

you laughed softly "I'm sorry alright, I've just never played!"

"not even once?"

"nope"

"what do you do when you go to a bar?"

"I drink?" 

He huffs a laugh "that's unbelievable"

"Maybe it's more a thing of your generation..." you teased, cocking a brow.

"oh yeah? You're saying I know how to play pool just 'cause I'm old, sweetheart?"

You bit down a grin "I didn't say anything, it was all you"

"mh-mh" he hummed amusedly, taking a step to get in front of you.

His broad figure towered over you completely.

"Well I won't have any of that, a pretty lady like you needs to know how to play"

"is that right?" you smiled

"Absolutely" he nodded, a smug smirk tugging at his lips "and you're in luck... I happen to be a very good teacher"

You laughed softy "I would have betted you were. You have a lot of expertise?" you said, fully aware of the suggestive undertone of your words. 

He bit his lower lip, his eyes boring into yours "I sure do, sugar" 

You had played with fire and now your cheeks regretted it, as a pink tint flowed to them.

"so what do you say we get a drink somewhere and I teach you a thing or two when we're done here?"

"I'd like that" you nodded a shy smile on your lips.

"It's decided then" he winked, as someone called for him " you better start getting your face game on sweetheart"

__ __ __

With a quick call, you found out the bar just in front of your hotel had a pool table, so as you had decided, once you had both finished for the day, at around six, you made your way there.

You felt a slight buzz of anxiety the whole day. This wasn't the first time you hung out alone, and it's not like you didn't like it, or him, hell, that was probably the problem, you liked this idea a bit too much, and were concerned with the possible consequences of what precisely that excitement could have brought.

But still, as you sipped on your wine, watching him set up all you needed to play, you had never felt so at ease.

He was always able to do that, just his presence soothed you.

"Alright," he said, standing up after having racked up the balls with a triangle thingy "We're set up," he said, handing you your stick.

"alright then professor, how does this work?" you asked playfully, causing him to grin.

"ok so first of all one of us has to break"

you frowned, confused "as in..."

"right" he smiled "The break it's the first shot, if you make a ball into a pocket, you claim that type for the rest of the game"

"ok" you nodded, feigning confidence. You already knew you were gonna be shit at this.

"You wanna try to break?" he asked, 

"Uhm, sure, but I think first you gotta tell me how to use this thing" you laughed softly, eyeing the wooden stick in your hand.

"Ok, first of all, that thing is called a cue," he said "and don't worry I'll guide you through it, sugar" he reassured you.

"Alright," you spoke softly "so what do I do?"

"ok, so first of all you bend over the table," he said, and you couldn't help but laugh a little.

"you're not even gonna buy me dinner first?" you joked, doing what he had instructed.

You heard the warm sound of his deep chuckle behind you "You have a dirty mind sweetheart" he shook his head, coming to stand behind you as you bent over. 

"ok, now try to aim for the center of the triangle with your cue"

"you tried but you quickly came to a realization "Pedro I have no idea how to hold this" You smiled

"that's not so bad" he spoke, eyeing your grip, "but here," he said, one of his hands guiding your fingers around the stick "that's better, you have to hold on to it tightly ok?" he said, and you nodded "while for this hand..." he trailed off, taking your left hand in his and positioning it how you were supposed to on the table "you have to hold it like this so that you can aim " he murmured.

His whole body was pressed against yours, his scent was intoxicating if not poisoning, and you could feel the warmth of his body as it followed the shape of yours.

Your heart started beating faster, and you had to bite your lip

“Try making a shot” he murmured again

“O-ok” you stuttered, mainly focusing on not moving any part of your body because that would have meant doing so against his.

You tried taking a shot, and as you could have probably predicted, failed miserably.

The ball didn’t even graze the other ones.

You laughed softly “shit”

He chuckled, the soft vibrations of his voice traveling straight to your ear “Don’t beat yourself up, it's your first time after all” he spoke, retrieving the ball before getting back to his previous position, his body and arms stretched out to guide yours.

God, was he distracting.

"ok now try again" he whispered gently, his hands leaving yours temporarily to move some hair out of your face. You blushed as your breathing quickened "You can do it sugar, try taking a deep breath"

That's easier said than done.

You tried nonetheless, attempting to clear your mind and trying again.

"that's it," Pedro smiled "That's a good girl"

fuckshitfuck

As embarrassing as it sounds, you could feel your panties grow wetter.

But I mean, did he have to whisper that into your ear? Not that you were complaining it's just... you weren't much of a fan of having all the oxygen taken out of your body with just two words.

He must have noticed something was wrong because he asked "You ok, sweetheart?"

"y-yeah, sorry" you smiled your tension away "So what happens now?"

he leaned up and took a step away from you, retrieving his own cue.

"now since you claimed the stripes balls," he said, taking the one you had made into a pocket out "I'm gonna play to make the other ones"

"ok" You nodded, "show me how it's done then, professor"

He analyzed the table before positioning himself to make a shot.

He glanced at you as he was in position "Ready?" he asked

"oh I'm ready" you teased.

He made the shot and made two balls like it was nothing.

"show-off" you joked, your lips pulling into a smile "So what now? You go again?"

He raised himself, his eyes locked on yours "Usually yes, but I want to help you out here, so why don't you go again?"

"fine, but not because I need your help" you clarified, deciding on what ball to aim to and bending down in position.

"you're already better" he spoke, his voice suddenly deeper as he got behind you once again, this time his hands finding your waist.

You had to hold your breath.

"c'mon, sweetheart, show me what you've learned" 

"is my grip right?" you asked, half (actually fully) hoping he would get closer to you.

"let's see" he granted your wish, bending down to you "That's really good sugar, you're a natural"

"you're just saying that" you chuckled

"no, you're real good at this," he said "Now try again, c'mon"

You set your fingers how he'd taught you and were rewarded with a sultry "That's it, sweetheart, that's perfect"

His breath was fanning over your neck but you somehow managed to make the shot.

"atta girl, if you keep going like that you might just beat me" 

"might?" you forced yourself to act as if you weren't about to combust "I don't think there's any doubt I'm gonna do that"

He chuckled, his thumbs absentmindedly stroking your sides "You keep dreaming" he mocked "Now let's see if you can do that again" he challenged.

You turned your head to the side, finding his just inches away.

Once again, your heart took a toll.

Whatever you wanted to say, had flown out of your head.

The only thought in your mind was: God how I want to kiss him.

You had never admitted it, but I guess this was as good a time as any.

"go on angel, show me" he nodded

You obliged, getting back to the game but having to bite your lip to prevent your heavy breathing.

You once again relished the feeling of him so very close to you, and just as you did... an idea came to mind.

So what if I...

As you aimed for a ball, you let your body move with you, more precisely, you let your ass stretch out a bit, casually finding Pedro's crotch.

He cleared his throat, and you bit down a whimper at the feeling.

"sorry" you murmured, pretending to be still focused on the game.

"it's nothing sweetheart" he reassured you, his hands still on you.

"is this good?" you asked innocently as you grinded on him again, nodding to the way you were placing your fingers.

"fuc- Yeah," he said, his voice more strained "Yeah that's perfect sugar, just like that, you're doing really good"

"really?" you asked, moving your ass against him again.

You were determined to break him. And you did.

You had to admit it had been easier than you'd expected.

His hold on your waist got tighter "you might want to stop doing that" he whispered to your ear, spreading goosebumps all over you

"do what?" you asked naively

He chuckled softly

"You're gonna get me in trouble sugar"

"Why is that?" you said, turning to him.

He paused a moment, as if he was pondering if he should have told the truth.

"I wouldn't want to have to fuck you right here on this table" he spoke calmly as if he hadn't just said what he said, "what would all these people think?"

you bit your lip, stifling a whimper "I didn't take you for one to care about that type of thing"

"I'm not, trust me there's nothing I'd like more than to slide your pretty panties to the side and thrust into you right now, but I'm sure a lady like you wouldn't like that"

you smiled "You know me well," you said, leaning closer to him "So what do you say we go back to my hotel room?"

An incredibly wide smile tugged at his lips "I was hoping you would say that"