#and it just sorta spreads a warm feeling of comfort and maybe even the feeling of nostalgia but without a reference

[taehyungsgrowl]

i missed u - myg x reader

ex boyfriend yoongi...

lately @desertsunflower00 and i have not been able to shut up about an ex boyfriend!yoongi au so here i am trying to bring it to life :')

please be nice! i haven't written (for fun!) in about a year, but it's been encouraged by my therapist so here we are!

not proofread!

pairings: yoongi x y/n

warnings: feelings + avoiding feelings, exes, angst, smut (sex, making out, dry humping, hickies, unprotected sex, light exhibitionism (sorta?)

word count: 3,000

(also noteworthy: when I started this I didn't think it would be angsty, but it got away from me lol. definitely have an alternate ending in my drafts w a not as happy ending lol but I did my best to give these idiots hope in this one)

Yoongi noticed the goosebumps on your arm caused by the cool air blowing from his car. Without a second thought he adjusted the temperature to make it more comfortable for you.

He also noticed the way your eyes glanced from his face, to the hands gripping the steering wheel, and the back up to his face. With that he couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face.

That was the thing about Yoongi. He noticed everything about you. Even after breaking up with him he wasn't able to erase the way he responded to you - or the way he knew you.

You sighed, forcing your eyes off of him and back on the road ahead of you. The pink sky was slowly deepening into dark shades of indigo and violet. Your heart squeezed in your chest thinking of the way things had happened with Yoongi.

"I thought I was supposed to be the quiet one," he looked over at you, soft smile on his face. Your leg continued to bounce in nervousness.

"I'm just thinking," you hope that would satisfy him enough, but just as well of Yoongi knew you - you knew him.

You knew Yoongi probably better than you knew anyone else. Yourself included some may argue.

"Hm," he hummed unimpressed with your response. "Do you want me to take you back home? If you don't want to -"

"No!" you cut him off, looking back over at him. "I want this. I missed you," you admitted. You felt your face warm and you hoped Yoongi didn't notice the nervousness coming from you.

But of course he did.

His eyes met yours for what felt like an entire minute. A million things unsaid in his gaze.

A million things you weren't sure if you were ready to hear.

But he knew that.

Instead of saying all the things he wished he could, he let out a breath he had been holding and steered the car in a different direction.

You knew the way to his house - which is where you thought you were headed - but this wasn't it.

"Where are we going?" you question, watching the tall trees as you pass by.

"We need to talk - really talk," he looked at you when he emphasized the words, "and I can't do that if I'm driving so," he points his chin forward, showing you were approaching the lake nearby. "We're making a pit stop," he smiled your favorite smile. The smile that made his eyes crinkle and his gums show proudly.

He stopped the car after parking it to perfectly face the waterfront. The remaining sun shimmered off the water. Families at the playground were packing up their things and loading their kids in minivans.

"Really talk?" you shift in your seat to face him. "What does that mean?"

"Well," he slowly reached forward and used the knuckle of his index to lift your chin to meet his deep gaze. "When you texted me earlier and said you missed me and wanted to see me..." he let the question hang in the air for a moment, taking in every detail of your face.

"What did that mean?" he finished his sentence.

Was he regretting this? You shouldn't have reached out. Maybe you should have listened to the little voice in your head - he didn't want the same thing you did.

"I do miss you and I wanted to see you." you scanned his face for any sign that he didn't actually want this as much as you.

"Right," he nodded, "But since you got in my car you've acted like I'm some stranger," he chuckled, "It's just me, Y/N."

"Did you miss me?" the question leaves your lips before you can even think to stop it.

"I don't think I'll ever stop." he spoke the words with such reverent force it makes your heart still for a second.

It's your turn to nod - agreeing with all the unspoken words between you.

With as small as the interior of his car is, you still feel him too far away. He's less than a foot away and yet the small distance feels miles long.

"I don't think much has changed," you admit - your mind racing at all the possibilities if you were to try again with Yoongi. Would it even work? Why was your mind already there? You were here with him now. Just... catching up.

"Well, my hairs gotten longer," he joked trying to ease you. He tugs at his new length. His dark looked so inviting at this length. You fought the urge to reach across and card your fingers through it.

Thick dark hair, slightly curing inward at the nape of his neck. It was probably long enough to pull up into a little bun if he wanted.

"I like it," and the urge won - your hand reaches over and caress his locks.

Yoongi halts - letting you touch him. It was the first time you've touched him since you walked away from him over a month ago.

Had it only been a month? Being without him for that long had felt so much longer.

Yoongi grabbed your wrist before you can pull your hand away from him and brings it up to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles.

"You know we don't have to have any answers right now..." he slowly lowered your hand, but continued to hold it - intertwining his fingers with yours. That brought back so many memories.

Locking hands under blankets during movie nights. Secret hand holding under dinner tables. His hand firmly guiding you through crowded streets.

His hands intertwined with yours while his face was buried between your legs.

"I just mean..." his thumb rubbed over the back of your hand in the most soothing pattern, "Let's take it one step at a time okay. This doesn't have to mean anything you don't want it to mean."

"Okay," you sigh trying to relax against his leather seat. It was what you wanted to hear, right? It didn't have to mean anything. It could just be.

It could just be you and him.

No expectations. No promises. Just now.

You let out a deep breath again, looking down at his hand holding yours.

"Does that mean we can go to your place now. To do something other than talk..."

That makes him fill the car with the sweet sound of his laughter. Low, raspy, laughter that sends a message right to your core.

You can't help but adoringly roll your eyes at his response. That eye roll made him know you felt more comfortable than when he picked you up. He could almost feel the bleak tension dissolve and be replaced with a different type of tension.

The type of tension that made him stir in his seat.

Yoongi reaches over to cup your face, pulling you in closer. Gently closing the space between you both. Seconds before he presses his lips to yours, his eyes look into yours again wanting to give you all the answers you wanted.

And with that, his pink lips pressed against yours. Gently at first. Testing the waters, kissing you so softly it almost pained you.

And then he does it again, but this time with so much more force. His kiss makes you gasp against his mouth - his lips taking claim over yours. His silky tongue traced your lips until your tongue met his.

All too soon he pulled away. His cheeks were stained pink and his lips were puffy from the force of your kiss. Yoongi's eyes held a devilish glint in them as he pulled back - knowing he left you wanting more.

"I don't think I can make it all the way back home now," he glanced down at the hardening bulge in his black jeans. You could barely make it out now that the sun had set.

The street lamp beside Yoongi's car set a soft glow to everything. The deep waters now a deep shade of black, reflected back the moons radiance.

You glanced around the lake and take in the stillness of it all. The quiet chirp of crickets somewhere in the grassy sedges. The low hum of Yoongi's engine. His soft breath fanning your face. His fingertips tenderly brushing over your lips.

You placed your hand on his crotch feeling him hardening under his jeans.

"Yoongi," your voice came out whiner than you expected. It was also the first time he heard you call his name since things ended. That did something to him he didn't quite know how to describe. But he swore he felt his heart (and his cock) grow three times in size.

"I want you so bad." The soft lighting pouring into the car made his smooth skin appear even clearer and glassier. You wanted to press your lips all over his face. Cover him in berry stained lipstick marks.

He nodded his head slightly pulling away from you to be able to shift the car into reverse. Before he could place his hand on the gear, you wrapped yours around his wrist, shaking your head 'no.'

"Here," you bit your lower lip, glancing out at the empty lake. "No one's here. No one's gonna see us," you urge, bringing his hand to your thigh.

Before he can say another word, you press your lips to his, mumbling an almost incoherent, "I can't wait," against his mouth.

"Fuck," Yoongi groaned into the kiss. "Want you too, baby."

Yoongi doesn't mean for the word to slip out, but it does.

It is messy and a little clumsy - much like how your relationship had been. But it's also what makes you and Yoongi so special to each other. There was no need for pretenses of perfection.

He scooted his seat back giving you enough room to climb over the console and into the safety of his lap. His large hands found their home along your lower back; they slipped themselves into your shirt, feeling your smooth skin all the way up to your bra strap and then back down, gripping your hips. "Y/N," he sighed, into your mouth as you grind your hips down on him.

"Let's get these off." he reached into your skirt to find your soaked panties. His long fingers traced along the wet patch you've left on them from grinding on his lap. "So wet," he mumbled almost to himself.

Lifting your hips to help him, he expertly slid them down your legs, helping you get them off. He tossed them aside before placing you back down on his lap, the steering wheel pressing into your back while he slid his hand up your thigh. Dragging each finger over the smooth surface until he was met with your wet folds. "I need to fuck you," he choked out and smashed your lips with an urgent kiss.

You let him fumble with his pants until he is able to free his leaking cock. You wished there were more light in the dim car to be able to indulge in seeing it again. The thick veins along the flushed pink shaft, the prominent head, now leaking with precum. You wanted to take it all in.

Yoongi grabbed his length in his hand guiding you as you align yourself with him. He stroke his cock along your pussy, teasingly tapping it against your clit a couple of times.

"Yoongi, please," you whined at the sudden contact, "I need you,"

"I know, baby," he shushed you, pulling you in for another kiss. He caught your lower lip between his teeth, tugging on it gently before slipping his tongue in your mouth. He grabbed your hips and pulled you in closer and you slowly sank down on his aching cock.

You winced at the stretch of his head pushing inside of you. Your arms grabbed on to the headrest behind his head and gripped it tightly as his cock stretched you open.

"Fuck," the word slipped out of your lips against his hot mouth as you felt the fullness of having his cock inside you again.

"You okay?" Yoongi pulled back and scanned your face.

"Mhm," you nodded your head. "It's just so... big," you let out a weak chuckle.

He rubbed circles along your back until his hands found their way to grip your ass.

You began to lift your hips and rocked your body on him. His large hands caught your movements as you ground yourself down on his length. Slowly at first, but quickly picking up momentum you started to ride him.

Completely feeling lost in the bliss of having so close - a part of you wished the skin of your chest could touch his. Everywhere he touched you felt like a familiar flame licking away at the time spent apart.

Like he wanted his hands to erase every minute he spent away from you.

He found his way further into your shirt, cupping your breasts in his hold. His thumbs finding your erect nipples as you bounced up and down his shaft.

The sounds of the chirping crickets and low hum of his engine - sounds that felt so loud in the stillness of the evening were now drowned out by something much more titillating.

Your breathy moans and his low groans were creating a symphony of pleasure - in that moment he swore he'd write a song someday about just how good it felt to have you in his embrace.

"Yoongi," you choked out, your legs trembled beneath you.

"Let me hear you, baby," he said into your ear, peppering sweet, wet kisses along your neck. "Who's making you feel this good?"

"You..." you tilted your head back providing more access to your neck. He sank his teeth into your skin, making you hiss in pleasure.

"You... you're making me feel so good. No one else..." you babbled as he sucked on the most delicate part of your neck.

The spot on your neck that made your thighs squeeze together - but he knew that. He knew every spot that made your heart race.

"No one else, hm?" that smug smile spread across his face again. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off of him.

He noticed your hands gripping the back of his headrest and frowned. He grabbed your wrist and placed your hands in his hair. His eyes silently begged and you complied.

You tangled your fingers in his dark locks and tugged at the root of his long hair as you chased your orgasm.

Yoongi's moan mixed with yours as you pulled on his hair the closer you got to cumming on his cock.

"Keep going, you're doing so well..." his eyes rolled back and his hands gripped on to your hips tightly. You sensed the bruise of his fingertips engraving into your skin.

Just another way Yoongi left his mark on you.

But bruises and hickies fade over time - you weren't sure if the mark he made in your heart would ever really go away.

Not when he looked at you like you hung the stars for him. And you would. You'd give him the stars and moon and everything he asked for if he wanted.

"Gonna cum," he groaned, hiding his face in your neck peppering the skin with little kisses, moaning against your collarbone.

He felt your nails dig into his shoulders as you came undone along with him. Your fluids mixed as he filled your cunt with his cum. You collapsed forward onto him, resting your head on his shoulder as he held you. Your legs twitched as your orgasm hit.

Yoongi held you until your breathing returned to normal. He idly rubbed up and down your back, softly kissing your temples every now and then whispering sweet praises to you.

"I don't wanna move," you mumbled, your eyes closed just listening to Yoongi's soft, even breaths.

"Then don't move," he brushed his hands over your cheek. "Just stay like this with me."

You let out a tired laugh - could it really be that easy? To stay with him?

You knew there was so much that was still left unsaid.

"I should go home," you sat up straighter on his lap to take a good look at him. You hated how it felt like another goodbye.

"Y/N."

You shook your head and started to lift yourself off of him. you both winced at the feeling of his cock leaving your pussy. Yoongi did his best to help get you clean, wiping up your thighs, silently cleaning you up before you crawled back to your seat.

"Are you regretting it?" his lips were set in a straight line and his tone shot an arrow to your chest. The last thing you wanted was to hurt him.

"What?" you met his fixed look, trying to read behind the hardness in his eyes.

He lifted an eyebrow waiting for your answer. He didn't bother repeating the question he knew you heard.

"No," you reached for his hand, using both of yours to cup one of his. "Just... not knowing what happens next makes it feel like goodbye again and... I don't think I'm ready for that," you admit.

His eyes soften hearing you admit you don't want to say goodbye to him again.

You didn't know if a relationship with Yoongi would work out or not at this time. Really, what growth could have happened in the month apart to make him ready?

"One step at a time, okay?" he reminded you gently.

You nodded your head, allowing him to pull you back into another kiss.

"I wanna be someone you deserve," he whispered against your mouth.

Every part of you wanted to ignore the ways he had fucked up in the past and tell him it was all okay - but you couldn't lie to yourself or him. You both needed time.

"One step at a time," you repeated those words to him before kissing him back again.

--

THANK YOU FOR READING! was vry nervous to post bc I haven't done it in so long, but this was really fun to write! I didn't realize how much I missed it and ofc I feel so rusty so I hope you enjoyed <3

tagging some of my fav creators on here: @gimmethatagustd @raplinesmoon @wonhosmistress

(also pls lmk if you don't wanna be tagged! last time I posted I was in a writing network and it was shut down so now idk what the etiquette for sharing/tagging is im sorry fdkgjd ily I haven't been on here in a while but can't wait to catch up/re-read some of my fav fics too)

[skelebagels]

He does! I need to finish this but I started a little WIP here about how his magic works but I’ll give some deets for funsies :D

- his foot/toe beans don’t store magic like the ones on his hands. they’re both squishy it’s just the ones one his hands have a slight magic buzz to them and maybe respond/glow a bit with squish.

- I’ve honestly been thinking about his beans getting squished recently and thought it’d be funny if it’s ticklish. Not always ticklish, can be squished and massaged, but very easy to tickle especially his toe beans.

He just runs away laughing from Snaps squishing hims beans like that.

For his hand beans/magic sacks = it comes into play when he’s using his plush magic. He uses the magic in his tail to sorta wrap the magic around an object, and then kneads it in while combining it with the magic in his beans.

I think of it like two part resin or glue mixtures. The kneading and introduction of the magic in his hand-beans activated the tail magic.

He can completely deplete the magic in his hands and basically just be exhausted afterwards. [It’s more dangerous if he depleted everything in his tail bc he’d end up using all of his kneading magic as well leaving him with v little at all in his body.]

I mostly mention that bc if his hand beans got squished when depleted they wouldn’t have a buzz or respond (or at least as much if not completely spent).

Usually comfies will use their kneading magic for altering the object before it’s finished - Kelek specializes in making them bigger.

<3

[mamayan]

oof your writing is so good 🙈 if your requests are open, would you be willing to write smth for dabi with a nervous virgin reader? Maybe some fingering and petting, lots of praise and encouragement if you're okay with that!! I also wouldn't mind if theres a little dubcon scattered in there for flavour😳 Thank you!🙏

Fuck it’s his favorite— absolutely I will Nonnie♥️ Dabi is nothing if not the perfect gentlemen… sorta. Am I gonna get sued for changing his words in this manga panel? I got carried away with this lol

Yandere Dabi x Virgin! Darling

tw: NSFW • Fem! Darling • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Implied Mental/Emotional/Physical Abuse • Dubcon • Praise • Virgin! Darling • BDSM • Fingering • Oral • Sex (M)(F) • Denial/Edging • Overstimulation • Dacryphilia • Unprotected Sex • Creampie

The front door slammed loud enough to reverberate around the apartment.

You sat facing the small tv, the screen playing some sort of cartoon with the volume on low, unmoving even as the thuds of his boots against vinyl faux wood flooring became louder. You were curled around your legs, pulled to your chest as your bare feet seemed to absorb the cold around you, icy skin keeping you grounded. Only a thin ratty oversized t-shirt and tiny shorts covering your body, despite the broken thermostat keeping the apartment at almost freezing temperatures.

Dark combat boots entered your field of vision, you numbly let your eyes flick up to take him in. He smelled like cigarette smoke and whiskey, the burning scent making acid bubble up in your stomach to your throat, but you meekly swallowed it down and gave a wobbly smile. “W-welcome home…” it was said with all the enthusiasm of a man walking towards his execution.

He crouches down to face you better, forearms resting on his knees as he levels you with a… soft look.

It has chills shooting down your spine, your stomach rolling and clenching while your chest heaves with anxiety. He’s not a soft man. He’s never been soft, not really, only in strange sporadic moments does he gently do anything to you, but it’s always followed by something sinister. Always.

“Hey pet, you cold?” He’s sadistic and cruel even on a good day. His words immediately making your eyes burn as you try to stop the impending tears. You’re always cold, left freezing locked up until his return, your only source of comfort and warmth him. It was a nasty play, logically you knew it, but logic was what got you hurt so you nodded despite the itch in your heart begging you to hold out a little longer. “M’cold…” you assent, unable to see the defeated dull look in your own eyes, but he could.

“C’mere then,” his smile is so sweet, his staples hardly pulling and his usually vibrant eyes more subdued and gentle. You wanted him to stop whatever game he’s playing now. Whatever sick trick he’s got hidden to make your walls crumble around you. His arms spread open, his knees hitting the floor so he could straighten his spine, and his embrace looking so warm.

Like selling your soul to the devil, you caved. Pathetically nearly falling as you all but threw yourself into him.

The fire wielding psychopath was a lot of things, and sadly running warmer than a normal person was one of them. Just being close to him was like sitting near a furnace, heat radiating off him in waves it seemed. You had all the time in the world to hate yourself when he inevitably left you again to nearly freeze, for now you focused on getting feeling back into your limbs as you pressed yourself as close as possible.

His chuckle is breathy as he wraps you up easily, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on his ass now, your thighs on either side of his to let you be as physically close as possible. Well, almost as physically close as possible, because when you were so desperate for his touch like this, it’s hard not to think about you begging for him to really warm you up.

“Better?” He doesn’t really need to ask, not when you’re fighting to keep your hands from digging under his shirt and getting more body heat from him. Your little sigh of contentment adorable, and while his day was mundane, he did get to release most of his pent up frustration on some lowlife pieces of shit. He was in a good mood, but he’d be in a better one soon.

“Hn” your little affirmation quiet as you rested your cheek against the exposed skin of his collarbone, breathing him in and relaxing as your stiff muscles and joints soaked his warmth up greedily. You didn’t even fight when his hands began to smooth over your skin, up your calves and thighs to your ass where he gave a little squeeze. You put up no resistance, no screaming or fighting tonight it seemed. “You still cold?” His lips are right are by your ear, warm breath blowing over it and sending a shiver of something… different down to your stomach. The stale cigarette scent wasn’t as bothersome to you when he wasn’t being mean it seemed.

You let him pet and stroke your skin, warming you up gradually and shifting you both around until your core was against his stomach and he was flat on his back. He even lifted up his shirt and your own a bit to give more contact, the staples across his chest smoother than you’d initially thought.

This was all wrong and you were without a doubt being soothed into… something. Peace? A sense of safety? Whatever it was, you mentally kept yourself prepared. Even if his touch was soft and careful, you knew what lurked behind those pretty eyes.

“You stopped shakin’…” his observation was more of a statement, but indeed you had warmed up enough not to shiver anymore. He wasn’t usually so nice as to help warm you up like this, usually making you drop to your knees and cling to him while he heckled your behavior.

Your world flipped too quickly to react. Your back now on the cool floor with his body looming over you.

“You’re still cold though, aren’t you pet?” His smile isn’t nice anymore.

“D-Dabi please…”

“What’s wrong, you don’t want me to warm you up anymore?” It was a thinly veiled threat that had you nearly delirious with panic in seconds.

“N-no I do! I do, please don’t stop!” Your pretty eyes filling with tears made him bite down hard on his tongue, tasting blood as he struggles to keep himself calm. It’s you after all. You weren’t some cheap whore he screwed for a quick release. You were his.

That meant something. Whether it was good or bad was debatable and complicated.

“Then let me warm you up, it’ll be faster like this,” he’s not lying. Even as he laughs at the confusion and waring emotions on your face, he really isn’t lying to you this time.

His lips aren’t soft. The kiss nothing like the ones you’d sneakily shared with a crush under the school bleachers, that kiss was a bit too wet and slimy. This one was commanding. His tongue easily slipping into your mouth in your shock, happy to invade and taste you, to share the overwhelming taste of tobacco. Your hands are tangled in his coat, tugging lightly on the fabric as he devours your mouth. He pulls back when you start to struggle, and the sight of your swollen parted lips has his pants uncomfortably tight. His zipper digging into his cock now.

“Dabi—,” your voice is barely even a whisper, almost inaudible but he catches it and pauses as he looks down at you carefully.

The fact that he’s even being careful should be considered as a mercy.

“Please be gentle…” your lips twist into a grimace, the lame line the only thing your muddled mind can conjure. His snort of amusement not helping your wounded pride, but as he shrugs his coat off and looks down at you, his words give you pause.

“I’m going to make you forget everything bad tonight pet.”

He doesn’t elaborate. You don’t need him to. You don’t want this. It doesn’t matter though, because you never wanted any of this. His sanity not even in question, because he’s clearly out of his damn mind and has been for quite a while.

His shirt is next, revealing his chest in the dim light of the tv still playing quietly, the words not even registering as a language you understood. The damaged flesh leathery and colored a dark purple in contrast to his healthy skin. You lay limp and almost defeated beneath him, watch as his hands deftly remove your own shirt, and while it’s not the first time he’s seen you naked… this would be the first he’s touched you so intimately. Your breasts exposed to the cool air harden quickly, his smile predatory as he leans over your chest to flick one with his tongue.

The sensation shoots straight to your pussy.

“Pretty little pet, are you scared?” His question is rhetorical, but you hate how he just seems to know your thoughts and feelings. So much so you wanted to ask if he hide a second quirk. In a last act of defiance, you shake your head. You are scared, terrified of what else there even is to lose because this evil man seems determined to take and have all of you. He’s insatiable for whatever you have, like a vampire taking the life right out of you. Except he won’t kill you, even if sometimes you wished he would. To end this game.

“Pfft, you look so serious,” his face is filled with only hunger and amusement, as he lets his rough palms rest over your breasts, squeezing lightly as he lets himself just take you in. His hands drag over your much softer skin, looking at the odd scar here and there left by his flames during the early days of your readjustment period. He lets one hand rest just over the mound of your pussy, still covered by the thin shorts that hardly covered anything. He’s quiet, and so are you, as you breathe and struggle to stay still for whatever this was. You imagined it to be more violent, less pathetic on your end, as if you’d given up without a fight.

Your tears of frustration finally broke and trailed down your cheeks, your brows furrowed and cheeks puffed as you try to stay silent and uphold whatever amount of dignity you had left. You wouldn’t beg him to stop, it only spurred him on. When his eyes looked back up, the image of you nearly drove him feral as he grinned, giddy with excitement in lieu of you crying. His snicker of approval only making you flinch back as his fingers hook inside the waist band of the shorts and your underwear.

“Keep crying pet. Maybe a hero will come to save you?” His words drip sarcasm as he now roughly yanks your bottoms down and off your body in one swift motion. You’re left completely nude and shivering as the cold seeps back into your body as you lay on the floor. “I don’t think any heroes even patrol this side of town anymore. Too dirty and messy, they can’t be bothered to save people here. So I guess that leaves just you n’me.” He’s not looking at your face, though he’d be elated to see the look of crushed hope painting your features, instead his eyes were trained on your tightly shut thighs. The soft skin a bit distorted from how hard you squeezed them closed. His dark hair falling a bit into his gaze as he easily digs his fingers roughly into your flesh to pry them open.

“Hii!” You cry of pain and shock adorable to his eyes as he gets an eye full in the dim light of your wet pussy.

“Better keep these spread pet, if I gotta open them again for you, I’ll give you a real reason to cry.” His eyes are fierce and foreboding as they meet your gaze, and fear keeps you compliant as you obey and keep your legs open where he left them. He smiles in approval, humming to himself as he begins to undo his belt and open up his pants.

He shifts to one handedly yanking his pants down to free his aching cock, his free hand moving to his open mouth to layer on his own saliva to his fingers. The wet digits brought to your pussy as you whimper, gently spreading your folds and admiring it as he grips his hard cock in his hand. You make the mistake of looking at it.

He’s covered in piercings. His cock long and thick, more so in the middle, with a slight upward curve… but there’s two distinct barbs through his dick on both sides, with the tip sporting one prominent one that had you wanting to disobey and close your legs anyway. It looked frightful and painful if anything else, and you briefly wondered if he did this to ensure his victims were thoroughly tormented at every step.

“Fuck look at you baby, so pretty like this aren’t you?” He’s gently poking and circling your clit, loving each little scared gasp and unsure look you shoot his way. He can tell it feels good for you, but with the uncertainty and fear factor of his looks and his cock, you’re wound tight in apprehension. He thinks it’s a beautiful sight on you. Your little sniffles and pouty lips captivate him into leaning over you again, licking your lips until you open and let him kiss you again. It’s languid and lazy like him, proving how good his mood currently is by how he’s taking his time with you. Your hands stay by your side, gripped tight into fists as you feel a finger begin to push inside of you.

He breaks the kiss the time, looking down to see you take his finger.

“Not so bad is it pet?” He wiggled and pushes it as deep as he can go, loving how your back aches and chest juts out in his face for easy access. He’s nice as he works you open with one finger, lavishing your sore nipples with licks and bites. You keep the moans soft and low, struggling to hate this like you thought you would.

It didn’t hurt at all. It felt good. That was the problem. Dabi never makes you feel good, he torments you like a cat with a mouse. That’s why he calls you pet.

So when he squeezes in a second finger and you moan louder? You nearly knock a tooth out slapping a hand over your lips in embarrassment.

“No you don’t,” his fingers rip free from your tight cunt, both hands gripping your wrists and pinning them with one hand above your head. He grabs his jacket, using the arms to make a makeshift cuff to lock your hands together. “Keep’’em right there,” he orders, and by his stern features you know he means it.

Tired of just testing the waters, Dabi crawls down your body in favor of bringing his face directly before your pussy. “Dabi?” Your head lifted to try and see him as he wraps his arms under your hips to hoist you up higher towards his awaiting mouth. “Been thinkin’ of how this pussy tastes for months,” he grins, letting his pierced tongue run from your dripping hole to your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body as your legs jolt and snap around his head.

You realize quickly and apologize, opening them to avoid any punishment.

“Good girl~” you don’t like how his praise warms you up further, your shaking now less from cold or fear and more from arousal.

He repeats his first few licks, before beginning to truly lavish your pretty cunt with his tongue and skills. Dabi isn’t actually an experienced man, most women fearful or disgusted by him for obvious reasons, but it wasn’t hard for him to figure out your reactions and follow the flow of your pleasure. The way you twitched and moaned, struggled to keep your hands in the spot he ordered you to, to keep your legs spread, he loved all of it. When your moans became high pitched whimpers and whines, and your muscles spasmed, he knew you were close.

“D-Dabi I think I—,” you were so close, core wound so tight you could snap at any second, and for the first time you liked what he was doing to you.

Until he stopped.

“No—!” Your cry was embarrassing, as you shook beneath him in horror of your own reaction. Panting and trying to catch your breath as your pleasure faded by the second, his Cheshire grin soaking up your disappointment eagerly. Of course he would, you felt bitter, even as he returned to licking and sucking your clit. Only when the build up returned did you relax again, moving your hips up a little as you neared the crest once more…

He stopped again.

“Dabi—!” Your indignant tone telling as you huffed, sweat beginning to dot your skin despite the cool temperatures, Dabi’s warmth even removed like this helping.

Your stomach ached with the urge to cum. “Something wrong pet?” His face said he knew what was wrong, but it seemed he wanted you to say it. Instead you stubbornly pressed your lips together, his shrug of nonchalance following as he returned to kissing and sucking, slower and more gradually building you up again.

Even if you mentally prepared for it, he let you get much closer to coming than the previous times, so when he pulled away, your legs clamped tight around his head to stop him. “Fuck, please Dabi,” you hated yourself. Hated how he held so much power over you.

If you didn’t look so cute, he’d probably punish you too for not listening.

“Please what?” You watch as he lets a drop of his salvia drip into your pussy, your trembling legs pushed open again by his hands as he stares up at you.

“P-please…” you didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to give him anymore of yourself but… “—please make me cum.”

He looks like that cat which got the milk. His satisfaction palpable as he laughs. “Well why didn’t you just say so? Since you said please.” His teasing tone muffled again soon by your wet pussy, his aggressive approach now much more intense as he eats you out with the purpose of making you cream his face now.

It doesn’t take long before the string violently snaps inside you, your orgasm intense and nearly painful as you come apart.

“Ah, yes, oh—,” you try to shift away, his tongue still laving your clit as he looks up at you, narrow gaze teasing and telling as you whine. “D-Dabi I-I already—ah please!” You almost bite your tongue when he sucks hard on your clit, your panic building with another orgasm. You moan, your head thrown back as your fingers grip and tug on the binding of his coat, hips shaking as you come again.

His lower face is soaked, but he can’t find it in himself to stop as he licks up all your release and noses your clit. Switching his assault to inside of your quivering hole, letting his wet hot tongue slither in, licking and poking your walls. He moans with you now, relaxing as he lets himself get comfortable, leaning against your thigh he has propped up now with his arm keeping you locked in position. He’s lazily feasting as you come again, this time breaking his rule and trying to push his face away with your hands still bound.

He doesn’t even stop then, just uses his free hand to grip the fabric and anchor your hands to your stomach as he continues to work you into another frenzy.

“S’too much! Stop! Stop Dabi! Please fuck, I can’t, ugh, no more—,” your pleas are ignored as he laughs, eyes crinkling as he watches you twitch and jolt with even the tiniest amount of pressure to your clit now.

“I thought you wanted to cum? Change your mind already?” You can hardly manage a full sentence, gasping for air like he’s choked you or something. He relents though, only because his cock is close to shooting his load even though he hadn’t touched himself while playing with you. Using his coat, he lifts your hands back above your head and scoots forward to let his heated cock slap against your wet folds. His hips automatically jerking a few times as his dick feels the soft wet heat your cunt is soaked in.

“You want my cock pet?” You look delirious and exhausted, sweat making your hair cling to your face as you briefly almost admit to being too warm now. Your both chilled and overheated as your sweat dries. Your blurry vision glances down to his throbbing length peaking at you from below, the heavy rod sliding back and forth through your slick and causing your pussy to twitch as he nudges your clit with it.

“S’not gonna fit…” his lip nearly splits on his smile, the cute admission only making him wanna shove it in you more to prove it will fit.

“You don’t think so?” His eyes look inhumanly blue from the cast of whatever show played on the tv now. One hand stays to keep your own pinned, while the other travels down your soft body to grip his cock and line himself up. “‘Cuz I think it will,” then he’s pushing in. His tip goes in easier as it gets crushed by your tight convulsing cunt, the rest engorged by blood feels painful as you cry, Dabi moaning as your gooey walls try to force him out. “I think,” one sharp thrust sinks a whole inch in, your eyes opening wide as tears spill freely, “I’ll get my entire cock in,” he pulls out only a little before shoving in a little more again. “And you know what else I think?” He’s leering down at you, manic grin frightening with the added shadows cast. You can feel his piercings, tugging and forcing themselves inside as he shifts and pushes, nearly stealing your ability to breathe.

“I think you’re gonna like it.” You can’t talk and he knows it, as his tip kisses your cervix, and then it’s bruising it as he shoves himself to entire way in, gasping in pleasure he sees himself fully sheathed inside you. His groin flush with your ass. Your walls so tight it feels impossible to pull out now. It doesn’t matter to Dabi though, as he grits his teeth and rocks forward and back, creating delicious friction on his cock. You’re left to sniffle and cry, pussy stretched painfully wide and aching deep inside from how his rough entrance.

“Poor little crybaby,” he chuckles, leaning closer to lick the tears off your cheeks as he finally gets himself wet enough to begin a slow pace inside you. “You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, burying his face in your neck for a moment while he ruts into you, quick short thrusts working him close to his orgasm. His hand works between you, thumbing your clit as you cry and writhe beneath him, pussy clenching and relaxing as you’re forced to cum with something thick, hot, and painfully heavy inside your cunt.

“Shitttt,” his teeth sink into your neck, grunting as his balls draw tight and he pumps his boiling load deep into your womb, pushing even deeper as it twitched and spurts. Your legs locking and trembling as you see stars.

He stills for a moment, catching his breath quickly as he lifts up to look at your ruined appearance. Your face covered in tears as you pant, eyes nearly closed as struggle to stay awake. Your pussy even messier, slick and cum coating you both and the floor, a tiny bit of pink mixed too.

The thought that it was him who ruined your innocence, taken your first and last, has him hardening again inside you.

You can only whine, silently pleading for a break, but his answering smile is familiar and devious.

“C’mon pet, we’re just getting started tonight.” He chuckles, pulling his hips back before roughly slamming into you now. The shock woke you up fully, pussy protesting the rough treatment he sets as the room fills with salacious noises, your pussy squelching with each slap of his balls. The piercing on his tip hitting a new angle as he leans back and jerks your hips up off the floor.

“Oh!” Your vision goes black as you cum, and Dabi only laughs and fucks you harder as you pass out, loving the stupid expression on your fucked out face.

“That’s it pet, said I was gonna make you forget!” He’s emptying another load inside you not longer after, his own dick becoming a bit overstimulated but too engrossed fucking you to stop yet. With you half conscious, it’s easy to slip out and flip you to your stomach before sliding back in smoothly. “Fuck, you feel so good baby, taking my cock like you were made for it,” his words are slurred in his pleasure, his hips working against your ass as he drags his slick cock out of your pussy before working it back in. He’s even deeper like this, your belly and hips flat on the floor as he fucks you.

You can’t even remember why you didn’t want this anymore. The pleasure and warmth overwhelming and so perfect.

At least as he fills your pussy again, you don’t feel cold.

[kentahoe]

a nameless hamzah fic because i said so

srry i can’t NEVER come up with proper names for my fics. THIS PIC OF HIM MAKES ME TWEAKKK

hamzah x reader. female anatomy. friends to lovers sorta >_< .

cw: SEX idk what else to put i’ve never written smth like this before🤕 nothing out of pocket but nothing short of freaky deaky.

He was gentle, an easy smile played across his pretty lips, and his eyes were half-lidded in a way that made you feel casual. In every sense, he was someone you wanted to be around. The low hum of his voice when he told jokes, his cute teeth and calming smell.

Hamzah held himself on the couch very languidly, legs comfortably spread, leaning onto the arm rest, head tilted back ever so slightly so you could see the expanse of his neck.

Sitting up, he tilted his head towards you, smirking easily. “What? You picked this movie and suddenly you don’t like it anymore?”

Of course the one time you indulged; allowed yourself a glance, to drink in his essence next to you, of course that’s when he noticed.

“No, I just spaced out. I like it,” You turned back towards the TV, but you felt his lingering eyes on you. You almost felt like they had lasers, heat washing over you wherever they swept past on your face and body, like you had been zapped.

“What are you thinking about? You were looking right at me.” He still has that easy grin, and you feel your eye twitch in annoyance.

But could you ever really be annoyed at him?

“I don’t even remember.” Shaking your head, you chanced looking over at him, meeting his eyes.

They were deep and warm and pretty. Dark eyelashes that curled slightly, that made him even more beautiful. “I think you do.”

Simple response. Simple enough that you couldn’t come up with an answer. One flutter of his eyes and all the words were stolen from your chest. In your head, you were filing through things to say, and the longer you were quiet, the more stupid you were sure you seemed.

“I…don’t.”

Hamzah inhaled a breath, removing his hand from the side of his face where it was resting. He lifted himself with his arms, shifting in his cross-legged position to face you on the couch. It startled you a bit, because you didn’t know what he could possibly be implying. Well, you did, but there was a nervousness in your gut.

He uncrossed one leg, letting it fall over the edge of the couch, and he looked at you. With intention in his eyes. There was a goal he was working towards, but you weren’t sure what it was, if it wasn’t what you were thinking. His grey t-shirt was wrinkled a bit, and his black basketball shorts were riding up on his thighs, and you could help but exhale a breath looking at him, swallowing.

“I think you look really good,” you somehow found, straightening your back.

Hamzah’s grin grew, like he reached a new achievement. It would almost annoy you if he wasn’t so handsome. And if there wasn’t a heat boiling inside you that made the hoodie you were wearing almost unbearable. You could see his breath pick up, his chest moving.

It was almost a bit awkward, he let out a chuckle—a giggle— and your face heated up. Hamzah had inched closer to you on the couch, crossing the barrier of the cushion, and you suddenly felt a lot more nervous.

You shifted, thinking maybe you had read the situation wrong. “What? You asked.” You wanted to get defensive, blow the whole thing off and finish watching the movie so you could run away and die.

The giggle stopped, and Hamzah’s voice became very genuine, a comforting, inviting smile on his lips, that you couldn’t help but stare at as he spoke, low and intimate. “No, no. I—thank you, is what I meant.” He paused watching you, “I got nervous.” There was that giggle again.

Uncrossing your arms, you turned to face him again, lowering your voice to match his. “In a good way?” Your eyes danced across his face. Although he tried his best to hide it, the shyness creeped up his neck and seeped into his expression. It was cute.

It was hot.

“Yeah.” It was almost a whisper.

His hand had moved up to his face again, half leaning into it, and half maybe to cover his face from the nervousness he was feeling.

And suddenly you felt very brave.

You scooted towards him, wrapping your fingers gently around his wrist and lowering his hand from his face, watching as he chuckled again, leaning closer. “I think you look very good right now.”

Hamzah’s eyelids seemed to lower even more, and he hummed, his face hovering closer to yours, looking into your eyes through his lashes.

Fuck, you wanted him badly.

“You.. I—“ He started weakly.

There wasn’t enough time to process what you had done before you acted, closing the gap, pressing your lips together. You chest jumped at the feeling, and then flipped indefinitely when you realized he was kissing you back, heavily, needy. His large hand had splayed across your thigh, his other wrapping around the back of the couch as he leaned in.

Deciding after a few seconds that there wasn’t enough contact between you two, you moved your hand that was on his wrist up to his shoulder, then his neck, and the base of his jaw, guiding him to deepen the kiss, which he welcomed with fever, letting out a deep exhale through his nose. His hand became restless on your thigh, and he lazily moved it up and down, prompting you to scoot closer, where you eventually ended up on his lap.

For a moment the difference was odd, being slightly taller than him. But the way he looked up at you, god it was one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. His beckoning hands shyly trailing up your sides.

You wanted to take this moment in. A moment to look at him. You laced your fingers into his curls at the back of his head, leaning down to connect your lips again, where you let out a breath into his mouth you didn’t know you were holding. It came out sounding like a whine, which he clearly didn’t expect, because there was a hesitation at your audible desire. He chanced it and licked into your mouth, which produced a real whine from you, pulling slightly at his hair.

His chest rumbled slightly with each breath, as his hands found their way under your hoodie and to your back. You pressed closer to him, wanting to be in contact with every part of him. You met his tongue with your own, finding your jaw becoming slightly sore.

Pulling back, you breathed heavily, looking at Hamzah, whose eyes were almost closed, also breathing deeply.

You sat up and ran both of your hands over his shoulders and chest from your position straddling him on the couch. Down his chest and over his stomach. You scooted back more, letting your hands roam over his thighs.

And god, they made you more wet. Squeezing them slightly in awe. They were so strong and you always found them incredibly sexy.

“Fuck Hamzah,” You breathed, and Hamzah raised his eyes from your hands on him to your face.

“Hmm?” He was smirking again, though it faltered slightly when your hands ran close to his dick.

“You’re so hot. Can I…I need to.” You let your fingers dance over his growing dick, and he jolted slightly.

“Ah, yeah, yeah, please.” It was quick, in one breath, desperate as he made eye contact with you, brows furrowed slightly.

Letting yourself caress him fully, you rubbed your flat hand over his bulge, stroking it between your pointed and middle finger, dancing all of your fingers over him.

Hamzah’s own hands were on your knees, squeezing them in reaction to your touches, his stomach flexing. You moved back more, allowing space to pull at the waistband of his basketball shorts that were probably too small, the way they hugged his ass and thighs. Pulling them down, he kicked them off and spread his legs wider, giving you access to his dick, that was growing hotter and hotter under your hand in his boxers.

His tip was sticky, and you used it when you wrapped your hand around him, stroking him up and down. Fuck, he was big. Girthy and heavy, stiff in your hand as you worked him.

The glimmer of sweat was beginning to form on Hamzah’s hairline, and he breathed heavily, still looking up at you. You used your other hand to push his hair back, leaning down to kiss him hard, trying to get more sounds out of him.

It worked, as the sensations seemed to overwhelm him, because he stopped kissing you back after a few seconds, screwing his eyes shut and groaning, leaning his head down and forward. “Fuck, shit.” He breathed, and his hips rolled up into your slick hand.

You stared at him, amazed. “Hamzah,”

You didn’t know why you said his name, maybe it was just acknowledgement in what you were seeing. Him being so pliable and good for you. “You’re so hot, holy shit.”

Even in the middle of getting his dick stroked, he managed to let out a chuckle, not quite used to your praise yet, or how much it excited him.

He was getting dangerously close before he stopped you, grabbing your wrist. “Hey, hey stop. Can I make you feel good? Please?”

You suddenly remembered your own need. The burning heat that shot straight from your stomach, inflaming your limbs and igniting your core. You didn’t have to hesitate to answer him this time. “Yes, yes.”

And you kissed him again, gentler, letting him take the lead. He did, and he grabbed your waist, and slowly laid you back onto the couch, using both his hands to hold up his weight above you as you hand your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. “I want you, so bad.”

Hamzah knelt between your legs, using his knees to spread them. “You’re so pretty. Your hair…looked really good today.”

The comment made you giggle unexpectedly, and you brushed it behind your ear. You remember dreading hanging out with Hamzah because you thought it was a particularly bad hair day for you. “Thank you, handsome. You are, you know? Really handsome.”

“I think I believe you.” Hamzah says, letting his eyes wander over your body.

You become aware of how hot you are, letting go of Hamzah to wiggle out of your hoodie, throwing it to the side. He grins, letting his hand fall to your hip, brushing his thumb over the material of your sweatpants. You kick them off shortly after, left in your underwear and sports bra. Too bad you weren’t wearing something cuter, but that did not seem to matter to Hamzah, he looked at you like you were the most gorgeous being he’s ever seen.

“You look good. Look hot.” It was a little awkward coming from his mouth, but it was so cute that it didn’t deter you one bit.

Instead you put your hands on his shoulders, grabbing his shirt. “Can you take this off for me?”

And he did without another word.

This position, felt so much more real. Hamzah was about to fuck you, and you were wanting it badly.

Hamzah leaned down to kiss you again, connecting his tongue to yours immediately, hands roaming up your waist to your bra, his fingertips slipping under the fabric. You grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand up, lifting your bra and making his hand meet your breast, to which you sighed at, the pressure of his hand feeling euphoric.

Taking your bra off fully, Hamzah pulled back to look at you. Only for a moment, though he was internal freaking out, he told himself he needed to act cool. So, he exhaled and found it in himself let his fingers wander, caressing you gently, firmly. When you let out a whine, he let out what sounded like a surprised cough, “Fuck,”

There seemed to be a lot of that, one word cursing. But it seemed to convey communication well, enough to be able to grasp each others thoughts.

You were kind of tired of it.

“Hamzah, fuck me. If you wanna.” You didn’t know another way to phrase it.

“I do, I will.” A whisper, almost sounding like a threat.

To you, it sounded like a promise.

Finding the waistband of his boxers in the dim lighting, you tugged on them weakly, and after Hamzah had pulled them off, you ran your hands over the curve of his hips and the small of his back, admiring him. God, you could do this all day, you thought, running your nails down his spine.

He shuddered for a second, looking at your underwear before repeating (maybe to himself again), “I will,” With more desperation, an airy voice that made your cunt writhe and stutter. He hooked two fingers at the bottom of the fabric by your leg, sliding them over your smooth legs, dropping them at your feet on the couch, behind him.

“Baby,” he breathed, leaning to kiss you as his hand wandered, searing your body, down your stomach and to your cunt, and the same two fingers grazed your clit, sliding up the folds in an experimental way.

Jolting under him, you lifted your hips in protest. “Hamzah,” you warned, though it came out more like a plea.

Hamzah giggled into your neck, kissing it before moving back to your lips to give them a quick peck. He wrapped a hand around his dick and stroked it a couple times, aligning it with your entrance, rubbing it through your wet folds and over your clit, you hissed out on pleasure at the contact, it was becoming unbearable to not have his dick in you right now. As soon as he started to push in, you wrapped your legs around him and squeezed, ushering him in faster.

“Okay, okay baby.” He cooed coolly, his other hand grasping at your waist for leverage to thrust in. “Ah, shit…” Once he was fully in, he didn’t have the resolve to wait, and immediately set a thorough, deep pace.

And just as quickly, you couldn’t think straight, restlessly squirming, trying to move in time with Hamzah’s thrusts, beckoning him to go faster. The stretch was mind-bending, you needed more. “Hamzah, harder. Please.”

“So polite,” he teased, and you sighed when he complied, though just as deep as before, the thrust became harder and licked the spot inside you that caused a moan to lurch from your throat.

As some form of gratitude, you kissed him, lacing your fingers back into his hair. It didn’t last long, as Hamzah’s cool demeanor was slowly melting, and his own moans seeped from his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing pleasantly when his head leant back. “You feel so fucking good,” he babbled, eyes closed, subconsciously moving faster. “So good.”

Fucked out, is what he looked like. Sweat had accumulated farther than his hairline, and upon his top lip that was glistening, occasionally wetted by his tongue that would flick out on concentration. His eyes were screwed shut, thick eyebrows furrowed.

You moved your hands from the back of his head to the top of his head, pushing his curls back that were almost covering his eyes, wanting him to look at you. “Hamzah, open.” You told him, and though it took a moment, he did, and blinked heavily at you, his brows furrowed even more, and his lips parted in a pant, that could have been mistaken for a lazy chuckle.

“Hey,” He said with faux coolness again, and you snickered.

“Keep going,” you grunted, “like that.” Moving in time with his thrusts became easy and mindless— mindless: like he made you feel about everything— and quickly you were approaching your climax, a red-hot rod shooting up your center from your cunt, to the apples of your cheeks, and you new you were getting close.

The thought made you even more feverish, becoming louder and less concerned about your facial expressions. “I need—Hamzah I’m, ah—” He suddenly bit on you neck, not particularly hard, but the sensation was jarring enough, and it deployed a pang straight to your core, you squeezed around his cock desperately.

“I know, I know, baby. Come here.” Wrapping his hands around your torso and pulling you close to him as the reach of his thrusts increased, stroking your insides over and over again, and you finally teetered over the edge.

Hot magma poured from your center and oozed throughout your limbs, white heat flooding every cell, and you were trembling violently, opening your mouth in a moan and tilting you head back, to which Hamzah connected his mouth with again, letting out his own indications that he was on the brink of cumming, too.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum, I—“

“Don’t stop,” you assured when he hesitated.

You were still riding out your high when the heat inside you increased, and Hamzah’s thrust were almost animalistic, nails digging into your waist in a way that made your eyes roll back, and your insides were drowned in his cum, deep and full. Hamzah’s hands immediately traveled up to your chest again, rubbing comfortingly over your breasts, he didn’t pull out for a moment, panting, swimming in the aftershock of his orgasm. You ran your nails up and down his back again, and felt the muscles in his back relax, and he eased into you, pulling out and letting his body weight fall comfortably on top of yours.

You twirled his hair in your fingertips, slightly scratching his scalp as your breaths fell in rhythm, hearts connected, chest to chest, and each others warmth’s joining into one, sleep-inducing flame.

“You okay?” He mumbled into your neck.

“Of course,” You replied, looking down at him. “Are you?”

“I…can’t think.” He admitted sheepishly, smiling and kissing your neck.

“Can you think enough to make it to the shower, handsome?” You smiled at him.

Hamzah grew a grin on his lips. “We’ll see.” And he slowly rolled off of you, throwing his boxers on easily, picking up a blanket for you that was on the back of the couch, wrapping it around you and picking up your clothes, setting it on the couch. “After you,” he gestured in front of him, and you led your way into the bathroom.

a/n: i never know how to end these ;-; srry if it was rushed or bad, i don’t know how to properly pace a story. not much of a writer, but the lack of fics igniting smth in my monkey brain.

lmk if u see any typos bc i am NOT proofreading allat😭🙏

[cl00udyyanan]

i need some royal!scara x servant!reader brainrot and pls give me a happy ending my poor soul can't take it anymore!! ily!

thank you sm for requesting! i hope this turned out somewhat to your liking and if you were thinking smth a bit dif you can always req again :)!

whose the cruelest of them all-?

synopsis: scara is a mean ruler but for some reason he just so sweet to you

warnings: abuse of power bc scara is mean, if you squint it probs is a bit suggestive but not by much, a bit angsty bc reader is a peasant but i think the ending is kinda cute

characters: royal!scaramouche x reader

notes: this was sorta hard to write i had no idea what direction i wanted to go with this, im working on being more descriptive with my writing so if you have any tips or constructive criticism that would be so appreciated hope you enjoy!

⊱ ───── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.}───── ⊰

rumors of your prince spread rapidly through the kingdoms of teyvat. they all spoke of a tyrant with too much power disregarding his helpless people, starving and desperate for their ruler to save them. they say he belittles and berates his servants to the point of tears at the slightest mistake. some even believe that prince scaramouche was not human, just the shell of a man with no heart at all.

you scowled at those rumors, they were nothing but wrong, the prince was kindest as ever to you. not once has he ever belittled you, he was generous enough to offer his palace as a home to you and the other servants, how dare they speak of him that way.

"oh is that my precious servant? come, sit." he beckoned, hand curling towards you and his lap. he had a glint of mischief in his dull eyes. often when it was dinner for the prince and he would ask for you to accompany him as he feasted claiming, 'no meal was enjoyable without his favorite little servant with him'. your cheeks flushed, eyes glued to the ground as you followed your princes orders to him. your hands clenched together as you knew the other servants were glarihn at you, the prince's little play thing. the stares they gave you as you placed yourself between his thighs were unbareable, you could hear what they were saying in their minds. as soon as you got comfortable, scaramocuhe disregarded his food, all his attention on you. your cheeks were practically on fire as he nuzzled into your neck, rough, frigid hands traveling to meet yours.

"people are staring, your highness…" you muttured. he knew how this seemed, how inappropriate it was but still scara shrugged as he placed small kisses onto the nape of your neck. the lavender eyed prince looked up breifly to see a handful of servants trying to hide their gazes. "let them stare," he chuckled "let these nosy rodents watch how i cherish you, my favorite little servant." with his finger, he turned your chin back to him, where his eyes met yours. the prince seldom smiled, but you could sense a sly grin on his lips, he leaned into your ear whispering, "i'd stare too if i was an adorable servant purchased on my rulers lap, huh?" after teasing you, he plucked a strawberry off of his plate, and held in the air infront of you. "open" he comanded. you parted your lips and took a bite of the juicy fruit. sometimes, you could forget the eyes that stared daggers, and the nasty words they spoke of when scaramouche treated you so sweetly. it made you warm inside, like you were on top of the world.

you knew scaramouche saw you as entertainment; it was too good to be true for him to really truly love you. you were just a servant dressed in rags, but you didnt care though. there are times where he had you wrapped in his arms, playing with your hair gently as he cooed at you, the rare times he gifted you expensive jewlery others would faint over, even gifting you a crown of your own. maybe he really did care for you in his own way you hoped. you were insignificant next scaramouche, but sometimes he made you feel like royalty.

⊱ ───── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.}───── ⊰

[f1nalboys]

Wall Of Photos - Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x Fem!Reader

started as a sick little smut and then ended up all sick no smut so. sorry? anyways enjoy Bo making you pick a photo from the wall to recreate <3

WORD COUNT: 1165

WARNINGS: dark, death mention, blood and slight gore/viscera mentions?, bo's polaroid wall is the main focal point, photos of past victims described (not-correct shibari and chair being used, photos taken of creampies, etc), mention of past victims. reader has such intense stockholm syndrome and they just dont know it, bo gets off on the photos, weird metaphorical nonsense and just nonsense in general? real freak behavior from me, dark, alludes to past abuse from bo, reader sorta kinda helps (or ignores) the killings and is jealous of people that get bo's attention, alludes to reader death and them being perfectly content with it, polaroid wall is a vigil of sorts so religious stuff? the town and bo are one fr. proofread but i am dumb so....pls let me know if i forgot to tag something!!! it was kind of hard figuring out what needed a warning and what didn't

He steadies you, arms around your waist, his front pressed against your back. He smells like Marlboro Reds, cheap beer, cologne, and blood. It’s more comforting now that it was in the beginning. His smell had long faded from the stench of death that seemed to cling to him; you realized it was this town that the smell clung to, not him, sinking its claws into every crack of the road and every crevice in the maggot-filled buildings. 

“So,” he purrs into your ear, breath hot against your skin. He was always so warm, whether that be his breath or his skin or his words, red hot, hot enough to scald you if you weren’t careful. You were far from careful now, your mind still in the chair a few feet behind you. It hadn’t left even when he had let you out of it months ago. You couldn’t feel your feet but you could feel his arms around you, his fingerprints embedding themselves into your skin like his knife used to. “Which do you like?”

You blink, trying to focus your vision. “Which… do I like?” You repeat and he hums. He’s swaying behind you, with you, like you’re dancing to some tune only he can hear in his head. Maybe the wedding march, maybe something from his youth, maybe his mothers voice. It’s all the same to him. He has you in front of the polaroid wall. “These are…” You don’t finish your sentence, swallowing thickly. Your mouth is dry. 

You can feel the smile on his cracked lips.

Dozens of people, all dead now, all exposed on his wall. He’s in some of them, sometimes his hand, other times his cock, a few of his face, but most of them the person is alone. They’re tied up, either strapped to the chair with duct tape or suspended from the ceiling in a mock shibari style. They’re on their knees, tear streaks and blood covering their faces. Most aren’t looking at the camera, but some are. You try to imagine what they had done to deserve that, to deserve Bo’s voice telling them to smile real pretty for the camera. 

You ignore the jealousy.

“Pick. Whichever one you like, we’ll do.” A choice. He’s giving you a choice, something that had been stripped from you the moment you got to town, maybe long before that. Maybe you never had a choice to begin with. All roads lead to Ambrose. He reaches past you and taps a dirt-covered finger against a photo of a woman on her back, her legs spread, her face tilted to the side in embarrassment. The flash is bright but her cunt is the focal point, not her. She wasn’t what he was looking at, he was looking at what he had done to her, what was leaking from her. Him. The photo was of him. “This one’s my favorite. Ain’t that a pretty sight…”

Bo sighs as he relieves the memory then and there behind you. You feel his hips jut forward ever so slightly, grinding against your back. He was getting hard. “What was her name?” You ask and Bo scoffs, his movements stalling. 

“Fuck if I remember. Why? You jealous of her or something, darlin’?”

“No.”

“No? You suddenly feel bad for ‘em all, is that it?” His voice is sweet like the honey you had watched him slather onto your toast this morning. The sharpness doesn’t evade you and you think of the knife he had used. Steel and honey, honey and steel. One and the same when it came to him. “Didn’t feel all that bad when we had that other girl come into town, now did you?” His hand breaches your shirt, sliding up your stomach to your tits. 

Bo grabs at you roughly, keeping his voice level even when you squeak, struggling against him slightly. Not enough for him to worry; you knew better than that. “No.” It’s true. When she had rolled into town, you hadn’t tried to warn her. You hadn’t done anything, in fact. Just watched while she endured what you did. She wasn’t special. Not like you, not like how Bo treated you. A play thing was just that; a thing. You were something to Bo, and that was enough. 

“Now pick or I’m pickin’ for ya.” 

Blindly, you reach forwards and tap one of the photos. It’s an older photo, long before you, and the girl was smiling. She was on her back in Bo’s bedroom, you knew from the sheets, legs spread with him slotted in between. “This one.” You wonder if this was the first. If this is the girl he’s been chasing all these years, if this is who had started it all. Your stomach twists at the thought of Bo loving someone other than you.

“Good choice, sweetheart.” He drawls, placing a soft kiss to your neck. Your body relaxes at the feeling, at the rare praise, and he knows your putty in his hand. How could you not be? His hand falls out from under your shirt. “We’re gonna head on up there, alright? Let me grab the camera.”

You turn around when he takes a step back from you but you don’t dare move forwards. He grabs the polaroid off of the shelf, checking for film. In another world, the sight would give you butterflies. You can feel them stirring in your gut regardless. “Why do you keep the wall?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself and Bo looks up at you, eyebrow raised. “You never look at it. What is it for?” 

He bares his teeth into a grin. They’re white but they should be red, covered in red, blood from the sheep you are, the poor animal caught in the trap of his smile. “It’s a vigil. You think I just take, right? That I don’t give? I mourn them,” he steps forward slowly so as not to startle you. You wouldn’t move even if you could. The girl in his bed was you now and you were going to be added to the wall, another ghost in the town, another warning no one would be able to heed. Had she thought of Bo the way you did? Had she looked at him and felt a twisted love, a sick and festering commitment to the very end? “I’ll mourn you, when it’s time.”

You nod, letting him place his hands on your cheeks. You’re not crying. He didn’t expect you to. “And I’ll mourn you, Bo.”

“I’m sure you will.” He kisses you and you can taste the blood in his mouth. It’s yours, it's the people behind you stuck in a photograph, it's his mother and father and brothers. It’s his. It’s the town, filled with blood and bile and sickness and rot. He pulls away. “Let’s go on up to the house.” He grabs a wrench on his way out, your hand in his.

You follow.

[midnightmoodlet-art]

https://www.tumblr.com/midnightmoodlet-art/766860562375294976/hey-if-youre-up-for-iti-got-an-idea-for-a-cute?source=share

I'm sorry to hear about the hospital thing...I hope you feel better soon! I'll send it, hopefully it makes you feel better emotionally.

(OK this idea is based on how affogato desired to be lazy and wants to reap rewards and desires luxury...)

Y/n noticed this about affogato and, wanting to prove themselves to affogato and truly loving affogato, works their ass off to provide for affogato in every way. Like they try to work as hard as possible and stuff to make sure they have enough money to please affogato...also making sure they show affection, even if they are super tired from working their ass off at work. Maybe, knowing affogato's rep, they are scared affogato would leave them for a richer partner and that's why they push themselves to the absolute limit...because they wanna provide for him financially so affogato loves them. Also trying to do everything so they can please affogato.

...affogato eventually figures this out. Y/n spreading themselves thin via doing all the chores, working as hard as possible at their job to try to make as much money as possible, and trying to be affectionate as possible, even if they are on the verge of passing out.

This is sorta an idea of if a poor y/n took him in and fell in love with him and wants to make sure he is as happy as possible...truly in love with them and clearly willing to make any sacrifice to make affogato happy. Maybe the comfort is affogato recognizing this and showing y/n...he isn't going anywhere, he's staying right here, he loves them too...so y/n can finally relax and sit on his lap and let him take away y/n's stress with comfort...

aaaaa thank you!!! I am feeling better now so ty for the warm wishes!!!

Also.

YOU.

BROOOOO THE OVERWORKED PARTNERRR AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I AM EATING THIS UPPPPPPP

Also consider,,,,,,,, affo figuring out is the moment that it clicked for him the whole affection thing. Like what if there was a barrier mentally before and it's like a switch that flipped.......

So the following morning after the realisation (he was kept up all night thinking and reevaluating everything about them), he just sees them starting already breakfast and he just goes over, steals the cooking utensils and go "Let me have at it now~"

SO he just starts taking over stuff little by little so that they aren't spread so thinly GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

just silently does it and THEN they have a talk when they notice it (roll for perception for how long it took /j) AND THEN HE SAYS THAT HE LOVES THEM

DO YOU GET ME

[fiction-is-the-new-reality]

nerves

word count: 3k

warnings: SMUT!! a little angst if you squint, cussing, AFAB!reader

Bucky had shown up at your door earlier that evening with takeout and a distant look in his eyes. He needed to be with you. You didn’t mind the visit. Towards the later part of the night, the air got thicker and Bucky was slowly making his way across the couch.

“Maybe it’s time we called it quits.” You’re watching Bucky inch closer to you. His eyes reflected the warm glow of the fireplace, his pupils blown out. His eyes gave away all his intentions, which you would love to indulge in, but you know it’s not going to end well. With you both still in the business of stopping world threats, you knew that a relationship would just end in pain. But God, you want to forget about that. You wanted to damn all those thoughts. You wanted to help yourself and Bucky forget about everything, but you couldn’t.

Bucky could see your desires in your eyes. The way you bit your bottom lip to hide your smile and the flush on your cheeks.

which wasn’t from the wine.

He knew that you were holding back, he should be doing the same, but you were too tempting. His gaze was so intense, you had to look away. Ending the moment like last time and the time before that.

You stand as a silent way to get him to his feet. Both of you walked extra slowly to the door, not wanting to end the night. His leather jacket is slung around his shoulders as you open the door for him.

“Have a goodnight. Hopefully, next time, it won’t end so early.” He smiles. He’s standing too close, and that leather looks so good stretched over his shoulders. The feeling in your chest is too much. You’re warm all over and he smells so enticing. It would be so easy to lean in….but you don’t.

“Goodnight Bucky, be safe.” You glance up through your lashes.

“Night Doll.” You wait till he’s out of sight to close the door. Relaxing against the door, a shaky breath exhales from you and your eyes clench as you begin wallowing in that familiar pining feeling

You knew you shouldn’t have shown up at his door. You were selfish, but you couldn’t help it. You just needed one more night and you would cut him out, move to a different state to keep away from him. Hell, but not even another state could keep you away from him.

He opened the door, his eyes raking over you. You look up to him, your breath leaving you as you drink him in.

“Sorry, I didn’t call. I know it’s late, but I was sorta in the area. Thought I’d drop by.” Lies. You weren’t anywhere near his place. Bucky knows this, he doesn’t care. He’s just happy to see you. No matter how many times you guys do this song and dance it never gets old. One night Bucky needs holding and you’re there, wiping his tears and helping him stay in the moment. Then the next week you can’t seem to keep the air in your lungs without him laying next to you.

“That’s alright, come in.” He steps sideways. The apartment is the same as it always is. You make your way to the couch. Bucky does the usual routine of grabbing you both a drink and walks back to the couch. You sit facing each other with his arm resting behind you. Your knees touch and there’s a familiar warmth spreading across your body. The comfortable silence between you two is interrupted by him asking about your day. You don’t want to go too into it but the way his blue eyes bore into you coax you into telling him everything. It’s clear he wants to know. He genuinely wants to hear how your mission was. As you continue, you notice both of you leaning in, his hand from behind you falls to your shoulder. He’s rubbing tenderly, applying just enough pressure to help take the knot out.

The conversation pauses for a moment and he closes the gap, his lips lightly pressing against your cheek, then trailing to your lips. You close your eyes and your body relaxes into the kiss as your hands explore the contours of his face. He pulls you into his lap, your legs on either side of his. He rubs your back, letting you set the pace. Your fingers thread through his hair, down his neck, and drag across his chest before returning back up. He groans at the pressure you're applying to his bulge, your hips rocking back and forth. He trails his lips down your neck and over the exposed skin at the top of your chest, he nips gently. He smirks when he hears the small gasp that comes out, there’s his reward. You stand and take his hand, leading him to his bedroom. He doesn't break the connection, his hands don't leave your body as you guide him there.

Once in his room, he toys with the button on your jeans and rubs the soft skin above it. You lift his shirt and pull it over his sculpted arms. He's quick to return the favor. Bucky pulls back to look at you, his blue eyes dark and his lips shiny and extra pink from the kiss.

“Bed, now” Your voice sounds a lot huskier than you’ve ever heard it. The bed hits the back of your legs and you fall backwards with ease. Bucky begins crawling on top of you and allowing his hands to roam your body. A giggle comes out of your mouth at his feather-light touch. You both rush to undress each other. His hands feel like fire against your skin as he takes off your shirt and pants. His lips travel from your neck to your chest and back up again. You allow your hands to explore his body as you take off his shirt, feeling his chest and arms.

The last article of clothing is his boxers. He’s already buried his head between your legs. The tongue on your clit is causing you to whine for him, high-pitched and all desperate sounding. Bucky’s never heard anything so pretty. You taste amazing and he can’t stop himself. He can’t seem to decide where he wants his tongue. He’s switching from being inside you and then flicking over and sucking on your clit. One of his fingers starts prodding at your entrance, feeling the warmth and the velvety walls. He dips his finger deep inside. You moan at the feeling. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve had anyone inside you.

“You taste amazing, sweet girl. So fucking good. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” His face is damp and the smirk that’s on it makes you want to scream. You grab at his wrist to get him to keep thrusting his finger into you.

“Add another, please.” You roll your hips, letting him get deeper. His finger curls and brushes ever so slightly against that deep honeypot in you. He’s trying to stay level-headed. He wants to give you enough of a warm-up before he’s stretching you open. But you’re pushing him closer to the edge of losing control. His eyes never leave your face, mesmerized by how his actions are giving you so much pleasure that you're making the softest and sweetest noises.

His grip tightens on your waist and he slips another finger in you and speeds up. Your head rolls backward and you’re gasping for air. You can feel yourself getting close and you start to beg him not to stop. His mouth finds your neck, and he starts to nibble and suck as he continues to drive you closer to the edge. Bucky puts his mouth back on your clit without slowing down his previous ministrations. You let out one more loud moan and then you’re there, your body feels like it’s on fire, you can barely feel your toes. Bucky doesn’t let up, his tongue is back to circling your clit, and his fingers are pounding away. The continued stimulation is causing your vision to blur and you can’t control how loud you’re crying out his name.

“Oh fuck, Bucky.” Voice hushed because you’re not back to being yourself just yet, Bucky’s never been so happy. He really focuses on his fingers leaving you and how glossy they are, he commits it to memory.

Hands reach out to grab at his belt and pull him closer. Hastily yanking it off and making your way through his button and zipper, and finally, get him free. His cock, already leaking with pre-cum, springs out of his black boxers. Bucky lets out a small hiss. You’re enamored by him. You’ve never seen someone so perfect, not too long, and just girthy enough to stretch you out properly. He’s arched to the left, and the tip is a pretty shade of dusty pink. The tip is shining in the low light of the bedroom from his excitement. He’s heavy and hot in your hand. You know at this moment it has ruined you for anyone else. All you can think of is Bucky.

You spit into your hand and begin spreading the saliva around his length. Gentle twisting at the top and touching your palm to the tip causes Bucky to jerk. You smile, gliding your hand up and down a few more times. You go back and forth, squeezing and relaxing your fingers. The closer to the tip, the tighter you squeeze, occasionally having to stop to add more spit. Now Bucky’s the one moaning and moving out of control. Your touch is like magic to him. He’s lost in the feeling of your warm hand and sticky spit swirling around him. Placing his left arm on the bed and reaching out to hold your face his right one, he tilts your head up. Your eyes meet his and you see a wild look there, you've never felt hornier.

After a few more minutes, Bucky’s ready to feel your warm velvet walls. All he wants to know is how you sound when he’s thrusting deep. He needs to see your face contorted in pleasure. He pulls your hand away from him and makes his way on top of you. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. It’s sloppy, all teeth and tongues prodding each other. While kissing, you feel Bucky rubbing the tip of his cock against you. He’s rubbing your clit and sliding over the entrance, letting your wetness coat him and smearing it all over you. He keeps doing it until he’s thoroughly soaked in you.

“Bucky, please fuck me.” You beg.

“Ask again for me, sweetheart?” His eyes lock on yours once more. At this point, Bucky could have asked you to do anything and you would have done it happily.

“Please, need to feel you. Please make me feel good. Please….James please.” The mention of his name in your desperate pleas breaks him. He’s shoving his cock inside of you as deep as it can go. Both of you lose your breath. He remains still for a moment, too afraid that if he moves, he’ll cum. Slowly he pulls almost all the way out and shoves himself back in, almost as fast as last time.

Then, setting a steady rhythm, he rocks his hips back and forth but never pulls out. He’s so deep inside that you can feel him brushing against your cervix, causing an overwhelming feeling of pleasure at the bottom of your stomach.

“God, you feel good, baby. Feel better than I ever imagined.” Pulling your legs further up his shoulders to give him better access to that spot deep inside. Bucky knows he’s found it when you’ve stopped moaning and instead are staring at him wide-eyed and slacked jaw.

You’re squeezing him like a vice, pulsating with every thrust. He’s had to pull out to keep from finishing early. You've started to squirm around and whine, “Buck, please…need more.”

“Be patient and take what I give you.” He’s snapping back into you.

Sweat drips down his face causing his black hair to stick to his forehead. He’s breathing heavily, toned chest heaving from how much energy he’s putting into fucking you.

While you’re noticing him, he’s noticing you. The way your eyes close as you’re overcome by all the pleasure. How your mouth is opening in gasps, and how your chest is bouncing from his thrust.

“I want you to cum, baby. Can you do that for me?”

You’re nodding aggressively. Your brows furrow in determination as you start rubbing your clit to get yourself to cum faster. Pressing down on your clit, you start moaning more. The pleasure is too good, and Bucky agrees. He feels the pressure of your rubbing against his cock, and it's mind-numbingly good.

He leans his head down and his teeth graze your nipples before he’s sucking and licking sloppily. His metal hand starts toying with the other nipple, and the coldness of it against your hot body feels so good.

“I’m close. Bucky don’t stop.” You’re staring up at him with big glossy doe-eyes, pleading to him. You look so vulnerable under him, he can’t keep his own climax from coming.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Doll.” He rasps out. His breathing is shallow now, and he’s begging for you to come.

“Bucky…I’m gonna...” You can’t finish the sentence. You’re too overwhelmed.

“That’s it, cum for me, baby.”

You feel the dam break and you feel white-hot lightning shoot through your veins. You call out his name. You try to grab at his shoulders, the sheets, and anything else you can find. Trying to find something to grab in the hazy blur of your climax.

His hips stutter as you pulse around him. Tensing up and clenching his eyes, he feels his orgasm hit him like a train.

He’s cumming with a loud groan and a whisper of your name. He’s never came this hard. Maybe it’s the years he’s spent alone or maybe you’ve just got magic inside you, but he feels like he’s never gonna stop cumming.

Once your high is gone you feel like you’re floating back down to earth. Now that you’ve returned to your body, you feel Bucky’s lips on your cheeks and going down the sides of your neck. You sigh finally being able to breathe properly.

“Good?” Your question is answered by Bucky chuckling.

“Mmm, really good, it took us too long to do that.” He pulls out to go grab you a washcloth. He doesn’t waste any time, not wanting to be away from you for too long.

“Maybe I was just waiting for the right moment.”

“I think you just couldn’t resist me any longer.” He smirks as he hands you the washcloth. You roll your eyes and snatch the cloth.

“I took pity on you. I couldn’t stand to see you looking like a love-sick puppy anymore. It was getting kinda sad.”

He doesn’t respond to this, he just leans in to kiss you. It’s very drastic compared to the other kisses you shared. This one is tender; no teeth gnashing together, and no tongues fighting for dominance. Just his soft pink lips conveying his love for you.

That night, you drift off to sleep with his arm wrapped around you. Bucky stays up a little longer to remember how you feel in his arms. He’s scared that you’ll be gone in the morning. Scared that this doesn’t mean as much to you as it does to him.

The sun shines through the blinds and you’re watching Bucky. The way his chest rises and falls and his soft snoring. You’ve seen him sleeping before, but something about this moment is different. You never want to leave this moment with him. You reluctantly get up to make some coffee, instantly missing Bucks warmth. You smile to yourself as you make your way to the kitchen. Quietly you make some coffee, hoping that you’ll be back before he’s awake.

The light streaming in from the window wakes Bucky up and he instantly notices you're missing. He soon notices the smell of coffee floating in the air. He smiles, feeling the happiest he has in a moment, and sits up. He finds you in the kitchen making two cups of coffee.

“Want sugar?” You ask. Of course, you heard him.

“Just cream.” He runs his hand through his hair and rubs his face, trying to get rid of the residual feeling of sleep.

You watch him sit at the small table and smile.

“Okay, just cream it is,” adding a dash of cream to his coffee. Joining him at the table, you hand the coffee over and he takes it gratefully. He takes a sip and his eyes close as the warmth of the coffee wakes him up. Apparently, you’re magic at making coffee too, his coffee was never this good.

You stare out the window, there’s cars rushing by and birds chirping.

“So last night?” You turn back to him.

“Um, yeah..last night?” You wait for him to go on, but he’s still just staring.“Is there anything, in particular, you want me to talk about?”

“I..just. Was that a one-time thing?”

“Did you want it to be a one-time thing?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Neither was that.”

You’re at a standstill, both of you afraid of what the other one is gonna say. He breaks first.

“Look, if you want it to be a stand-alone event, you can let me know. I can handle a one-night stand.”

He’s really focusing on you.

“I would like it wasn’t just a one-time thing.” Meekly smiling, you look out the window and then back at him.

His face lit up. “I would love if it wasn’t a one-time thing.”

He puts his hand on the table, palm up and open. You look at it for a moment before reaching out and placing your hand on his. You look at each other and smile.

He squeezes your hand, and you take a sip of coffee. Maybe this wouldn’t end horribly. Maybe this will work out.

You squeeze back.

[kaicheri]

lights, camera, action…?

sub camboy!beomgyu x afab reader

warnings: streamer au, mommy kink, handjob, dirty talk, edging, ruined orgasm

wc: 2.2k

a/n: repost #???

>>>>

“ughh this is sooo boring just fuck alreadyyyy”

Oh, God. Beomgyu didn't see that comment too...right?

This isn't the first one that you've seen. In fact, it was one of the thousands pestering you two to fuck each other. The sexual tension that you and Beomgyu have been trying to sweep under the rug? Couldn't be worse than now.

Well, you can’t say for sure the feeling’s mutual, but on your side of the grass, things haven’t exactly been greener since he’s moved in with you two weeks ago.

Why?

Because…never mind, it’s nothing—he’s still your roommate, don’t think. Just don't.

“Oh, you stream?" he gasped hopefully and shook your hand fast, "Holy shit, me too!”

He might've come off a bit strong, but at least he was enthusiastic enough to introduce himself raw.

“Oh, really?” You asked, “What do you stream?”

You, for example, are an influencer who regularly reacts, and indulges in video games here and there—but apparently, your new friend decided to skip past the talking stage and fly right into it, feeling more than comfortable to admit that he was part of a much…ahem-

…naughtier community.

“You—you do porn?” you tried to hide the heat in your cheeks, and the surprise in your voice. or excitement, rather. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. or turned on.

You’d expected a gamer at the most… but a camboy? No way in hell.

It's just...he doesn’t really...look the part? Well, they’re usually always old, bald, or just plain unattractive (in which they’d opt for faceless camming). But maybe you were just exposed to the wrong ones.

“Uh, sorta?” scratching his head, Beomgyu frowned like he, too, was questioning himself—as if it was that hard to explain. “Not exactly, I…I haven’t actually fucked anyone on camera.”

…Or ever, actually, he wanted to confess. He's still a virgin dipping his feet fresh into the welcoming, warm waters of porn, and touching toes with his sexuality. Of course, he thought it’d be fun!

Plus, who doesn't like sex?

And as a young guy who claims to be “pretty on cameras and sexy on the main,” he’d decided, why not?

“Guys, it’s not what you think. We are not fucking,” you awkwardly chuckle, hands up matter-of-factly.

Well, you could…and it’s not like you haven’t ever thought about it—but still!

Point is, you still have a bit of respect for your roommate, so these intrusive thoughts gotta stay low.

…which is getting harder and harder to do, especially when there's always some extremely descriptive commenter fantasizing on the screen every five seconds.

You might as well just fuck him now in front of everybody so that they’d finally shut up about it. After all this isn’t even your audience—it’s his.

“never thought i’d see urdaddyy/n69 here lmfao”

“whats she doing with a camboy lol”

“nah they dating fs”

Sighing, you ignore the comments flooding onto the screen, continuing to interview the boy beside you—just about the system and how it works—in the event that your own streaming career does a one-eighty and flops all of a sudden.

“So...you just sit here and…touch yourself?”

“N-nah,” Beomgyu laughs, face bashful, “Well, I mean—yeah…but there’s more to it than that...”

“Like what?”

“Like, um, interacting with the fans!” He spreads his hands out towards the monitor to address said audience, “And asking how their day has been going, if they’ve eaten yet…you know, s-stuff like that.”

“Uh-huh…” you raise a brow, but he understands why you might question it.

“I-I know it seems like that’s the last thing they come on here for, but…they’re actually pretty nice,” he tries to explain softly.

“And you mentioned that you record…voice memos or something like that?”

“Oh, yeah. Sometimes, I record the audio only and post it onto Baetreon—which they also support! So I’m grateful for that,” he gives a thumbs up to the viewers and a precious smile.

“Y’know,” his voice softens, “as a pretty small streamer, I can't help but be thankful. The viewers…they mean the world to me.”

As you would’ve guessed, with his ability to be irresistible at all times, and the whole boyfriend-this-and-that image, it’s no surprise his marketing strat is so effective. The boy is smart, and knows exactly how to play the game.

That’s impressive, and you’ll admit kinda hot. Maybe you could, um…help him gain the recognition he deserves.

“Well, I have an idea. How about we give them a show?” you suddenly offer.

“What—what do you mean?”

“I’ll help you get off.”

“Wait, w-what??”

The chat goes wild.

“I said I’ll help you-“

But he has to hear that again to make sure, so he tugs on your sleeve and brings you into a whispering exchange behind his hand, hoping that the viewers can’t hear what’s next.

“Y-y/n, that’s,” he gulps, “that’s too risky!”

Well, yeah. A pretty well-rounded, medium-seized creator such as yourself would get into a load of shit because of this—but to be fair, what streamer hasn’t gotten into a scandal?

“Wouldn’t that ruin your career??” he whispers, obviously concerned.

“If it does, I’ll just quit streaming and join you instead.”

The last bit shocks him and he’s unsure of what it means.

“It means you won’t have to do solo shows anymore,” you chuckle, shrugging nonchalantly, “Plus, streaming sex does sound pretty fun. And… I get to fuck you as much as I want, right?”

Beomgyu’s jaw drops, surprised by how calm you are after so casually letting that slip.

“What?” you breathe out, almost laughing, “So…is that a no?”

“N-no, I mean—“

He takes a moment to calm himself, inhaling and then, exhaling sort of dramatically.

“W-what I meant to say was…I’m not opposed to the idea,” he admits quietly and lowers his gaze, scratching his neck. You didn’t think his blush could deepen.

“But are you sure you wanna…do this? Like, you’re being serious, serious right now?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, impatiently pulling his chair closer to yours, and Beomgyu completely freezes when he feels your arm snake around his precious, little waist.

“I mean, you’re always pleasuring yourself alone,” you whisper saccharinely, so dangerously close to his ear, “Why don’t I pleasure you this time?”

—————

“What do you think about when you touch yourself, pretty boy?”

He gulps, “I…I just read, a-ah, c-comments—“

“Pfft, the comments?” you scoff, “How pitiful.”

The poor boy hisses when you slightly tighten your grip on his cock, continuing to slowly—painfully—drag a mixture of his precum and your own sly spit all over him.

“Why read the comments when…I could be right here, next to you?” you lean in closer to his ear, “touching you just like this…”

Your hand swallows up his swollen, too-abnormally-fat-of-a-tip, and makes him whine out loud, all pathetic for everyone watching to hear.

“Aw, is it too much?” you pout and coo, clearly enjoying yourself as you put him through a different kind of torture.

“N-no-” Beomgyu shakes his head, brows knit and eyes shut tight like a stupid anime character.

“No, who?”

His whimpers and gasps are so, so fucking cute that you can’t help but grind a little on your chair, just watching him try to push words beyond his tight throat.

“N-no, mommy,” he swallows hard, “keep going, p-please…”

“Good boy.”

He deserves a little bit more, doesn’t he?

“God, you’re so…” you hiss in through your teeth as you loosen your grip to focus on increasing your speed, “so fucking good for me…”

Beomgyu’s mouth drops wide open and his back delicately arches against his gamer chair, giving you the perfect opportunity to pull his side up against your torso.

Face fucked out and parallel with the ceiling, he squeezes your thigh as to hold onto something—something close and comforting to level himself.

But at the rate of which you’re going on his pretty, little cock? There’s no way he can come down from the clouds now.

And especially when Beomgyu’s the master of edging himself, having the ability to control his pleasure levels and think about grandmas in time to prolong his pleasure is completely useless now that you have him in the palm of your sadistic hand.

“Too…too fast, mommy—“

You find him trying to hold back his moans and whimpers all silly. Oh, you’re gonna milk this boy until he’s gone.

“Aw, scared of cumming too soon?” you chuckle, “how embarrassing.”

You peek at the monitors, only to see all of them egging you on. Like yourself, the viewers want to see this poor boy become a cum-spurting mess—crying and squirting his children-carrying juice everywhere—all over your hand, keyboard, monitors, himself.

“No, you’re gonna hold it in for mommy, okay? No cumming until I say so.”

How could you put him through such…torture? It’s delicious—the way he looks, sounds, and smells like flowers. There’s nothing wrong with weeding out the bad in his cock.

But unfortunately, that would mean you’d have to pull at his precious, little petals, and tease up his leaves a bit. His lovely viewers deserve to see him suffer just as much as you do, facing his ultimate demise, the beginning of the beautiful end—an orgasm denial.

One that would leave him shaking and crying all pretty for the world to see.

The boy’s so stupid and desperate—so gullible and easily controlled—he has nothing else, but the various sensations of his cock driving him. He’ll do anything to cum at this point.

“I-I…I’ll hold it in, mommy, promise!” he blurts out, realizing that you slowing down might be worse for him, “Just…don’t s-stop, pleeease…”

He’s trying so hard to keep himself at bay with the kind of pace you’re using on him—and fuck, it’s so cute—obviously showing his efforts in the form of prominent neck veins, a deeply reddened face, and tears beginning to seep out from under tightly closed eyes.

“Baby, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.” He knows you’re fucking with his mind, even more so by leaning in close to press soft kisses on his neck where the veins are out.

“Poor, poor baby…“

“M-mommy, I- nng, can’t!” he cries out, feeling a fever kick in and his cock becoming numb from it all, “Please, I can’t…h-hold it anymore—“

He grabs onto you and his armrest tight, chest heaving and breathing so dramatically. It’d be a miracle if he doesn’t end up fainting by the end of this.

“Not yet,” you breathe out, speeding your strokes up, “just a little more for mommy—“

“Oh, mommy, please- let me cum, p-please!!” he squirms frantically in his chair, throbbing heavily in your wet hand.

Without saying a word back, you quicken your pace, putting him to the test—

Fine. If he can’t take simple orders like a good boy…

Beomgyu gasps and cries out loudly, hips beginning to thrust off the chair and into helpless sobs.

It’s only a matter of time before he finds out he’s fucking nothing but air.

Because bad boys don’t get rewards.

“Mommy, n-no!”

It’s too late.

You had already loosened your fingers around his crying cock, and now, the poor thing is pathetically swinging around in the air along with his needy hips, dripping of the tinniest essences that have failed to be milked completely.

He could’ve used his own hands to finish it off, but both were quickly held back by yours.

You have yet to release his dainty wrists from your tight hold, letting him whine in absolute tears. It wasn’t easy, but you were able to pull his shaking body back down into his chair again before he could fuck something random—anything in sight—but considering his position, he desperately tried to rub his thighs against his cock.

But there wasn't any use. Now, he’s left with tears staining his cheeks and a pitiful gaze down at his own swollen cock. Nothing but a few droplets on his trembling thighs.

It’s obvious he’d never had a ruined orgasm in his life, even when his audience has paid thousands in request. Poor Beomgyu just needed a push. So admittedly, the satisfaction was at least shared among you and his loyal fans.

“that was so fucking hot holy shit”

“couldn’t even last five mins”

“can u be my mommy too”

The reactions are all too good to your ego. And you’re glad to see that for the most part, everyone seems to have enjoyed it. You should definitely do this more.

Was he that much of a brat that the donations popping up screen have now doubled—no, tripled in size?!

There’s one comment that really catches your eye, though:

“i’ve seen every one of his streams and holy fuck…glad u put him in his place lmfao”

And here, you thought he was a good boy. Tsk, tsk.

Beomgyu’s not exactly…happy about the situation, but he knows this was a very deserved humiliation. And on the bright side, from what you've seen from his streams (secretly), he loves being humiliated, regardless.

“I should join your streams more often,” you tease, face pulling a grin that could devour him. “Mommy’s gonna play with your pretty, little cock for a very long time..."

Just then, the door swings open and presents yet another tall, young male you’ve never seen before, frozen in place with Starbucks cup in his hand and his mouth covered with the other.

"O-oh, I’m sorry," You turn to the frightened boy next to you, "Uh, Gyu, who is this-"

“Yeon-yeonjunnie hyung?”

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Hey! I love your work, and I think you get everything down to Alfie’s language to the fucking t! It’s so fucking good when I can literally hear him in my head while I’m reading! Sidenote—please don’t cut my head off, because I’m *genuinely* trying to understand. I’ve followed you for awhile and I’ve noticed you engaging in the discourse about readers and reblogs, likes, etc., so I thought maybe you would be a good person to try to help me understand why some writers seem to be so upset by some readers liking instead of reblogging. Again, I’m not trying to attack anyone, I promise, but even as a writer myself, I struggle to grasp why it matters so much. Like, of course, comments and/or reblogs with comments make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside! It makes my day hearing that someone has loved a thing I’ve put my time and effort into creating, but likes are called “likes” for a reason—to let someone know you liked what they posted. In my head, getting them is another way for people to let me know they enjoyed what I put out. I’m not saying that anyone is, but to me, it comes off a little entitled when people get upset at readers for not explicitly praising their work with comments and such. Yes, the site is free and we’re not getting paid to write fanfics, but nobody owes anyone anything. When I write a thing and post it, I don’t feel like readers are then obligated to give me feedback because putting it online is a decision that *I* made. If they take the time to comment on it, that’s fucking wonderful, but that doesn’t mean that people who don’t do that are in the wrong for using the like button as their way of telling writers “Hey, I like this!” if they’re uncomfortable interacting or don’t have anything specific in mind to say. I’ve seen people talk about just copy/pasting a comment, but I don’t get how having 100 comments that all say “I like this fic!” or whatever is any different than using the button that’s meant to indicate “I like this fic!”. If somebody’s going to say something about my work, I would rather it be because they genuinely wanted to comment, not because they feel obligated to do so. I really hope this doesn’t come off as rude and I’m so sorry if it does. I’m just confused because both interactions mean the same thing—the only difference is that some people are more comfortable sharing their thoughts in depth or socializing online. I don’t know, it sorta feels like some are trying to police what other people do/don’t do with their blogs when we’re all here for the same reason—to fuck around and fuck our favorite characters. (Or daydream about it, unfortunately lmao)

Okay, I will try and explain it for you, nonie.

The reason why we are frustrated over the lack of reblogs is very simple, and if you’ve been following me for a while I’m surprised that you haven’t noted the reason by now.

Essentially, it keeps the fandoms going. It spreads posts around, it gives them visibility since half the time, the tags don’t work (it’s hit and miss at best!) and the algorithms on this site are virtually nonexistent, so having our work shared is a vitally helpful way for us to reach more people.

This isn’t Instagram. The reblog button is there to be used as that’s the very ethos of the tumblr experience; you see something that you enjoy, you like it, you share it. You seem to be forgetting that and solely focusing on commentary, but let’s get to that, shall we?

You’re absolutely right, nobody is obligated to comment, but come on. It’s a tiny exertion of effort to reward an author. It’s interaction, it can help people feel like what they wrote is valued beyond the bare minimum. It’s a tiny expression of gratitude in a world were fast consumption of “content” is now the norm. It also helps people - new writers especially - feel like they’re not shouting into a void. It all also ties in the the community of fandoms, which seems to be dying because of this quick consumption trend.

If you are fine with none of the above happening, with no sense of community in your respective fandom, with people not offering comments - or the more important reblogs - great! But people aren’t wrong for wanting a little more from our audiences, especially when that little more takes seconds to participate in.

I hope that clears things up for you.

[ashlingnarcos]

take it

Javier Peña/gender neutral!Reader: informant x javi, reader knows him all too well, hurt/comfort, angst

length: 2.1k, can read on ao3 here instead if you like

inspiration from @narcolini

warnings: referenced kidnapping of reader, tiny bit of kinda sorta choking, also no actual smut

comments & fandom-related asks welcome!

Smell comes to you first: the threatening undertone of shitty apartment mildew, the warm human smell of rumpled sheets, coffee floating on top rich and strong. Then comes sound, a defective air conditioner not fighting the hot air so much as just moving it around. Then comes pain. 

Most of the pain is a few days old, dulled to ache, but your hand, that's new. Tiny, negligible, but new. There's something holding you down, your shoulder, pressing you into the mattress, but no urge to fight it. No urge to fight it. Why? You blink, glance up. 

Javi’s sitting at the edge of the bed, to your left, legs dangling over the side. The motel room is his, and the hand is his too. He’s leaning on your shoulder, holding you down in earnest, but his attention is elsewhere, on some papers in his free hand. He’s squinting.

He should really see about getting some glasses, but he won't. Just keeps claiming he's tired, he doesn't need them, but he is always tired and he still needs glasses. So tired. Look at him. 

If he didn't have his work occupying both his hands, he'd probably scrub them over his face in that way that always serves as prelude to drinking, fucking, sleeping, or bad decisions—sometimes all four, though not in that order. But he's got work in both hands, so he sits steady beside you. God.

You look down at your own hurt hand, discover that someone's put a band-aid on it. Javi has. Can't be anyone else; nobody else knows you're here. It doesn’t feel so bad, maybe a small bruise, a nick. Couple spots of blood on the hem of his long-sleeve t-shirt. A little nick.

In any other bed, upon waking with fresh injuries, you'd be out of your mind with fear. Here, you're just sleepy.

You look down at Javi's hand securing you, the spread fingers. You've seen what this hand can do. Each knuckle different. Two scars, minor, light lines across the back of his hand, maybe an inch and a half long, negligible but for how straight they are, and how parallel. That's ominous. Still could be an accident, but possibly not. What happened, Javi? Accidental scars or not, had to be someone. Many of them, you think. Had to be many of them. He's too stubborn a man to be brought this low by just the one. 

Or maybe you're mythologizing again. That's a bad habit of yours. Can't fucking help it, though, can you? If men continually refuse to let you turn on the light, the shadows will come alive with possibilities.

When you put your hand over his, feeling his knuckles against your open palm, you can't resist tracing the raised lines of his scars with your thumb.  

Javi startles as though at a buzzing fly, knocked out of whatever world those papers had constructed around him, knocking out of your reverie, and suddenly you're both back in the world. 

He closes the file and throws it on the nightstand, tries to take his hand back, but you tighten your grip and he lets you keep it. You interlace your fingers. God, it feels good. Mostly for the way he looks at you, affectionately searching.

“You okay?” he says, soft.

“You tell me.” Still holding onto him, you angle your hand up, indicate the band-aid with your thumb.

Something stirs behind his eyes. “You roll around a lot when you’re dreaming. Nicked it on the windowsill.”

Do you want to ask him whether you talked in your sleep, too? Maybe you didn’t. Maybe you got lucky, and only fought. No wonder he was holding you down. 

Those sleeping pills are no joke, you're about to say. But before you can, Javi strokes your hair with his free hand. 

He doesn't even try to camouflage it with purpose, doesn’t push your hair back from your face or pick out invisible lint. Just his fingertips, honest, and a face that makes him look both younger and older than he is at once.

Jesus, Javi, if I'd known that climbing into your bed was all it took to melt you, I'd have done this two months ago.

“How are you feeling?” he says.

Last night, it was his stash of bandages laid carefully on your skin, then cold cans of his beer pressed to your bruises. Now you're wearing his shirt, a pair of his boxers, underneath his sheets—his hand is in yours, his hand is in your hair—his eyes are on you, he's fucking everywhere. He's all over you. He's all over you, and you want more. 

"Come here,” you say.

"Hm?" he says, like he doesn't know what you mean, smiling a half-smile that gives himself away. 

You let go, sit up till your hip is pressed to his, and lean in until your foreheads touch, until he’s all you can see. Every little detail. 

Up close, his brown eyes aren’t the way you imagined them, not self-satisfied or lust-darkened or even excited. You’ve never seen this expression on his face before. The closest you’ve ever seen was a caution appropriate to having a gun pressed to his temple. This, though, is something tentative.

"Come here,” you say again, and he does, presses a dry close-mouthed kiss to the corner of your lips, almost chaste. 

For that, you turn your head and bite his bottom lip. Not hard, just enough so his lips part, so you can slip your tongue inside, and oh, oh, when he takes your face in his hands and fucking commits, it’s so good. You sigh a sound into his mouth that you didn’t even know you were going to make. 

There’s that smile of his, that satisfaction, but then he angles his head and whatever comment you were going to make gets lost. You get lost. 

One of his hands slides up your back, underneath your shirt, and there’s something obscene in the sheer span of his spread fingers, the way they flex against your skin, his fingertips digging in. Then there’s his other hand, fingertips slipping under the waistband of your boxers. You stop that hand, put it on your ass instead, and brace yourself for the inevitable.

But the inevitable never comes. No questions, no protests, just Javi grabbing your ass, pulling you in, shifting you till you’re straddling his thigh and he can press his open mouth to your neck. Teeth, too, slow and filthy. You tangle your hands in his sweat-damp hair and keep waiting for him to pull back and ask, but he never does. As you grind down on his thigh, the words just happen. 

“You’re so perfect, you make me sick,” you murmur. “How’d I get so lucky?”

He pauses only long enough to get out one syllable, barely audible: “Don’t.”

Then he’s back to your neck, kissing his way up to the sensitive spot just behind the corner of your jaw, like nothing happened.

“What?” you say, barely able to think, but vaguely, disturbingly aware that something did just happen. 

“Nothing,” he murmurs in your ear, and you feel a pinprick of alarm: he’s trying to make it sound sexy. Trying. “Come here.” 

And now you’re getting exactly what you wanted; he’s all over you. He lowers you onto the mattress and follows, kissing the other side of your neck as his whole body presses you down. Not his whole body weight—he’s holding himself up a bit with one arm. He’s so careful, so intent, so inescapable, for a second you almost give yourself up to it. But then you remember.

“Wait.” You angle your head, try to catch his eyes, and fail. “What?”

Javi picks himself up, so now he’s got one hand planted on either side of your head, leaning over you, panting a little, hair a mess.

“What?” you say. Your voice sounds smaller than you wanted it to be.

“You don’t have to—” He smiles, and fuck he’s so beautiful, but something in that smile makes him look drained down to the last dregs. “Can we not talk?” 

Oh. Goddamn him. 

A memory rises up, sharp and sudden, searing as staring at the sun: you rubbing your wrists where the handcuffs had been, looking down at the red marks, Javi beside you, pressing the first of many cold beers to the bruise on your forehead because he didn’t have an ice pack. And his voice, as if from far away, saying I’m sorry, over and over. 

It wasn’t that bad, really, you would have said, if you’d been paying attention to him. But in that moment you were mostly trying to decide whether to stay or run.

I’m so sorry.

Javi’s eyes contain those echoes now, as his smile fades. 

A fierce protectiveness surges up in you: you want to shake him, you want to fuck him, you want to make him say all the shit he won’t ever say. 

You take his throat in your hand, instead. His Adam’s apple fits so good in the V between your thumb and forefinger. 

“You don’t have to talk,” you say. “But I do.”

Who does he think he is? He doesn’t get a monopoly on guilt because he never had a monopoly on power. It’s that simple. He carries the weight of the world on his back because his ego lets him think the world is his to carry. Come the fuck on. 

Somebody needs to teach him how to surrender, and it’s gonna be you.

“Javi,” you say, low.

He’s not looking at you properly, so you let go of his throat and then take hold of his jaw, surge up off the bed till he finally looks at you. In that moment, he looks almost frightened of you, in a way that has nothing to do with your hand. 

“You found me,” you say. “You saved me. You, and no one else. Fucking take it.” 

Oh, but he's always been a fighter. 

He lunges at you as if you’d said something else, something filthy, and you let him think he’s won for a second, let him think it’s only sex, let him press you into the mattress, opening your mouth to him and kissing him back fiercely. 

When he pulls away to get air, your hand is on his jaw again, your forehead against his once more, relentless. 

“I knew it would be you,” you say, “I knew you’d come for me. I held onto that for the fucking whole car ride. All night in the basement, handcuffed, with a bag over my head, waiting to see what would happen. I had nothing else, but I had that. Don’t tell me that’s nothing.”

Javi bursts out, like you’re hurting him, “If I hadn’t asked you—”

“I made my own choices. I make my own choices. Yes or no?”

“Yes,” he says, but defiant, face set like you’re in an interrogation room and he’s on the wrong side of the table. 

Jesus Christ, this man is so fucking stubborn. You’ve never been angrier with him, never cared for him more. 

“You think your cock is that good, Javier? Please. I would do a lot of shit for you, but I would never let a man override my own judgment, whether or not I—whether I gave a damn if he lived or died.” 

Ah, shit. The first part came out so good, and then that last part, that last part slipped out all by itself. You may as well have said you love him, which, maybe you do, so what if you do? It doesn’t need saying.

Up until that last part, Javi had been stonefaced, but when you cut yourself off and took a breath, something shifted. He’s listening to you now, properly.

You set yourself right and say, more steadily, “Anything I do, that’s on me. I make my own choices, yes or no?”

“Yes.” He says it quieter this time, quieter and truer. Close enough. You'll take it.

“Good.” You lift your hand to cup his sweat-damp cheek. His lashes dip, but he leans into it. When you press your finger just under his jaw, you can feel his carotid artery thumping away, and for a moment, that’s all there is, his heartbeat.

“And now,” you say evenly, so he won’t suspect how the sentence ends, “I’m going to make you come so hard, you won’t even dream afterwards. Yeah?”

Javi bursts out laughing, at you and at himself, but his pulse quickens in anticipation just the same. You’re back. When he grins, he shows teeth, a challenge you're only too happy to take. You'll show him. You kiss it into him, first, right into his parted lips: no guilt, no shame, we can be good, baby. We can be so fucking good.

And you are.

[saccharinecoffee]

Halo of red | Henri & The Beast

Pairing ◈ Henri Clément x The Beast

Word count ◈ 3,130

Info & Warnings ◈ Smut, monsterfucking, implied Augustin/Henri friends to lovers

Author's notes ◈ Fun game! Could have been 10/10 if it had a sorta gothic Lovecraftian love story, though.

Read on AO3

You've reached your breaking point in the bunker when the beast finally catches you. Running away is no longer an option.

You walked slowly, flashlight in hand as you reacquaint yourself with the eerie corridors of the bunker. You were careful – you had to be.

You had heard the beast crawling within the walls, heard it stomping down the main hallway as it stalked after the sounds you made. It had been a terrifying ordeal, however long you’d spent in that hell since awaking. You sweat and panicked while the adrenaline flowed through your veins; you trembled and heaved whenever it wore off. There was just no winning. You were too exhausted to bear it much longer, maybe even too weak. Your body had reached its limit and it screamed at you for mercy, for rest. But you couldn’t stop, you had to leave, you had to-

Distracted, you tripped over something. You fell to the ground as whatever caught your feet snapped behind you and a hissing sound spread out. You cursed under your breath as dread began trickling up your spine.

A flare had gone off. Fuck.

You heard the creature roar the next room over and you scrambled uselessly on the ground as you tried to gather your bearings and get back up. Your feet felt as though they were made of lead, arms weak as you crawled away and kicked off the wire from around your legs.

It felt useless. Your heart pounded in your head and a sob bubbled from deep in your throat. This was it. Sharp claws and teeth awaited you. Blood and gore and pain. You screwed your weeping eyes shut as tears wet your face, the rumbling of a bomb going off at the surface making you shake and hug yourself tighter on the ground.

The thing's footsteps thumped as it rounded the corner and spotted you. You whimpered and cried, unable to move or to look up. It was too dark anyways, aside for the red sparkle of the ignition.

Thump. Thump. Growl. Thump. You felt the vibrations of the creature's feet on the floorboards you lay on, feeling more and more like an earthquake as it got closer. And then-

"Ah!” You gasped, clawed hands grabbing your ankles and pulling you closer and forcing you on your back. You kept your eyes screwed shut, your breathing laboured with anticipation.

A claw would soon rip through your gut, you desperately thought. And sharp teeth would puncture your skull.

Instead, something warm and slimy touched your cheek.

You froze.

It traced down your face, over your jaw. It trailed down your neck and you shivered, heat blooming in your cheeks. There was a sweet scent in the air, mingling together with salt and blood. Then, something a bit colder touched your chest and scratched down. It didn’t hurt and it caught the front of your shirt before ripping it open slowly, almost curiously.

You wanted to panic. Alarms should be ringing violently in your mind, warning you not to get complacent, that you were about to be devoured, but something about the air felt strangely comforting, like danger left when the beast touched your crying face. You shouldn’t be swayed by the strange magnetism in the air, by the insanity and the hope and the gut feeling you might have. You were taught that in training and you were aware of it, though merely in a rational sort of way that felt foggy and distant, behind the many layers that adrenaline cast between you and your senses.

Regardless of your inner turmoil, the warm wetness trailed down your chest, tasting, feeling and making your breath catch in your throat. It left too soon, slithering its way back up your neck and jaw and over your cheek before it completely withdrew itself.

It grunted, a loud sound that echoed through the hallways. It sounded strangled, like something was caught in its throat.

"Aargh," its voice was scratchy, deep and twisted. "Hhha..."

Was it trying to speak?

"Heen," it attempted, and something about it made your heart beat faster. "Henrrr- Henri..."

You opened your eyes in shock, chest feeling heavy. Specks of red light gave way to a massive silhouette that hovered over you, assertive and imposing. The rest, just pure darkness.

"W-what?" You said desperately, bits of panic seeping through your complacency. It wasn’t possible. The monster couldn’t…

"Hen... Henri," it rumbled again.

And you knew. You had no way of knowing but you just knew.

"Au-Augustin...?"

Something rumbled deep in the creature's throat. It moved closer, its face lowering over your chest and its teeth scratched your skin, almost experimentally. Your breath hitched, a moan getting caught in your throat. The beast's tongue was on you again, soothing over the marks and drifting back up slowly.

You couldn't get used to the feeling, always so novel whenever it touched you, making you tremble and sigh, making your skin prickle and blood pump faster. You felt bold, lifting a hand to where you thought its head was and it startled, but understood your intent quickly. It made a croaking sound, and despite it being so animalistic, you felt as though you understood its intent as well.

You stroked its skin, felt its ridges and valleys and plains. It leaned into the touch and rumbled out your name again, making an incredulous laugh escape your lips. Its head was hairless, but it seemed to have several wounds tender to the touch. Its teeth felt long and sharp like that of a tiger, but around the sides of its face, it had perfectly human ears. It leaned into the touch once more, though it growled like the beast it was. The dichotomy, you found, was more amusing than disturbing.

"Augustin, is it really you?" You couldn't help but ask again.

The beast licked your face, a claw running down your neck, then over your chest. It grunted and shrieked, and it retreated its tongue.

"Found... You..." It rumbled darkly. "Mon... Chèr..."

You laughed, tears stinging your eyes as your fingers traced over the beast's face. It was too dark to discern much of anything. Perhaps it had expressions you could not perceive. Perhaps it was for the best that you couldn't yet see its large teeth and deformed eyes. But you couldn't help but laugh, smile, and urge the creature closer.

"I'm sorry," you said. "It's my fault."

The creature grumbled, scratched you over your shoulder and over your chest again. A whine escaped your lips.

"I put you in danger," you continued, its claws ripping the rest of your shirt. "If I'd gone instead of you maybe none of this would have happened."

Claws ran over your skin, gently, playfully, making gooseflesh spread and making your back arch just the faintest amount.

"And I'm- I'm sorry I never gave you an answer... Before all of this."

The beast roared louder, nipped your shoulder. You gasped, reaching for its neck in surprise. It hurt, but not unpleasantly. You wondered if he still held a grudge against you, if your inability to follow your heart had left him resentful.

"I know, I know. I was a coward."

It licked over the flesh apologetically, the wetness making it more sensitive.

If this was the way being with him could have felt, you thought, then maybe I should have already plunged into the deep end with him earlier. Before all of this.

"Henri."

The beast ripped the front of your cargo pants open, its tongue immediately swarming your clothed erection. You sobbed, the feeling so overwhelming. It was hot and wet, the pressure just on the verge of pain. It felt vindictive, but not cruel.

You snickered. Maybe the ever perfect Private Lambert still held your rejection a little closer to heart than you though.

"Y-You shouldn't-"

Its claws scratched over your lower belly, making you arch into the beast's mouth.

"Fuck, fuck...!"

Just trust me and let go, you remembered Augustin saying. Stop worrying so hard about everything.

You helped the beast lower your trousers to your knees, that tongue slithering over your naked thighs and making you tremble. It was good, it was really good. And it was scary, the fact a deformed monster could make you feel this way. It was absolute insanity how it was once the very person you'd fallen in love with. Turned into a monster who'd killed everyone in their bunker, but couldn't help but feel the lust and playfulness of a human once more as he saw you.

A claw hooked into your underwear and you braced yourself. Slowly, they shifted lower and you lifted your hips to aid the process. The fresh air made contact with your heated, wet arousal and it made you shiver. You grasped your erection instinctively, pumping yourself a couple of times to release some pent-up energy. You moaned, writhing against the wooden floors, and above you, the monster was slow. It moved its hands around your torso, warm where the skin touched and tantalising where its claws raked and it was deliberate and precise when it drew its claws slowly to toy with your nipples. You wailed, hips rising into the air as you let the monster do with you what it pleased.

Saliva dripped down its maw and over your erection as its tongue whirled around your cock, making you retract your hand. You weren't sure of what it had in store for you, only that it wanted you. And you let it have the reins, let... Him, have the reins. You always trusted him and you wouldn’t – couldn't – stop now. You'd merely take what it dished out for you; it was too strong to fight back, regardless. The thought didn’t scare you as much as it aroused you further. So you sobbed, back arching and hands clawing at the floorboards as that tongue completely encased your arousal, rubbing it as it moved and slithered its way further and further between your legs. You rutted against it, riding the beast's tongue as you chased your pleasure. Meanwhile, the tip of its tongue poked your taint, rubbed it and licked it, making you cry.

Before you knew it you were flipped over, the beast's massive hands having so easily wrapped around your body and lifted it as thought you were weightless. You folded your legs beneath you as it drew your behind closer to its maw, claws digging into your skin just enough to sting, and stroked its tongue over your hole.

"Oh..."

Despite the size of the beast’s tongue, it wasn’t unpleasant, but rather odd and exciting as it poked and licked your crack, lowering to fondle your sensitive sac and coming back up to prod at your entrance.

"I don't suppose if I complain you'll rip me to shreds with your teeth, no?" You taunt, feeling a little brave.

The beast retracted its tongue and you felt its hot breath over your ass, the anticipation making your skin tingle. Then, you felt its teeth over your flesh, raking over the swell of your ass cheek and nipping it at the end. It made you shiver and you shamelessly raised your ass further in the air for it. It repeated its movements, scratching you where it held you down.

Words couldn’t begin to describe the maddening way you fear and desire mingled with your pleasure.

Its tongue soon made contact with your skin once more, but it didn't shy away from your entrance anymore. It breached it easily, slithering in like a snake and making your knees turn to jelly.

You cursed and twitched with every spark of pleasure it gave you. You could only take it, shoving your face into the meat of your forearm while your mouth hung open. Its tongue thrust in and out, warming you up and lathering your insides with its thick saliva, until it inevitably retracted. 

You felt disappointed and confused, thinking it could have at least lasted a little longer. Surely, what else was there to-

Something blunt poked his entrance, hard, round and flesh-like.

"Oh, my god," you sighed as it thrust in and bottomed out effortlessly.

You'd never felt so full in your life. You'd never known a feeling such as that could even be within the realm of possibility. The beast thrust out slowly, experimentally, and when it thrust back in you felt your nerves light up like nothing else.

You cried, wailed as the beast fucked you, leasurely at first, getting used to your smaller body, and then faster, pounding you like the animal he had become.

Your cock throbbed beneath you. It throbbed and leaked where it was trapped between your stomach and the massive hand of the beast as it held your body close against its. Inside, it was almost too much, its erection big enough to rub every nerve ending at once. You were useless in its grasp, a moaning mess of a man as this beast devoured and took you as his.

As arousal coiled itself deep in your core, threatening to spill, you looked behind you, hoping to catch a glimpse of the monster that had taken you.

It was still too dark to perceive it, your eyes barely adapting from keeping them screwed shut in the midst of pleasure. But the flare still glowed behind the both of you. Fiery flecks of light were dying out as they floated in the air like mist. From where you lay, it casted what seemed like a halo of red around the beast’s shadowed face.

"Henri," it grunted again. "Henri, mon-"

"Yes," you sighed. Your hips stuttered and you shoved your face into your inner elbow desperately as heat coiled rapidly in your gut. "Yes, yes, yes-"

Your friend's name was on your lips as you came. It, too, spilled its seed inside your shivering body as its hips stuttered and pressed hard against your behind. It was intense, mind numbing and startling. Your legs tingled as the aftermath of your climax rippled down your body, and how something so intense was possible, you had no idea. It almost drove you mad how you could have ever denied your desires to Augustin before, if this was what hehad wanted from you all along.

The beast lowered itself and held you close, its front to your back. It didn't retract itself from your body and every movement threatened to arouse you back to full hardness. You held onto its arm, breathing made hard from the way it kept stroking you, fidgeting with your hair and your wet skin, still heated and sensitive.

"My friend," you said with some difficulty. "If you keep that up I'm soon going to need more than just a cuddle on the floor."

The beast groaned and lifted you up with it. The feeling of its cock inside of you as you moved and stood up was bizarre, but just as riveting. And the way its huge body covered yours as it hunched over you was enough to stir something new inside of you.

You grabbed your cock, half hard already and tugged at it, once, twice, and you sighed. The monster moved, drawing you closer to a wall and grinding into your sensitive ass. You stroked yourself harder, leaning your head back and resting it against the creature's expansive body. It dug its claws into the wood and stone of the bunker's walls and held firmly into it as it thrust in and out with more fervour, using his other massive hand to wrap around your chest and neck and pulling you closer against its warm body.

It was tight and close, almost intimate despite the animalistic nature of your coupling and you couldn’t help but moan long and desperate as it fucked the air out of your lungs. Its tongue lolling out over your shoulder and around your neck and the feeling was akin to being devoured. Teeth scratched against your jaw and down your neck where its tongue drew patterns. It was so intense, so much stimulation from so many directions it made you dizzy. 

You stroked yourself with bated breath as you contemplated how it could so easily sink its teeth in and bleed the life out of you. Its teeth raked hard against your pulse, no doubt feeling the way your arousal escalated and you whimpered desperately.

Its hips slammed harder into you, the only thing keeping you upright being the claw still wrapped around your chest.

Its breath was against your neck where it bit and licked, its cock deep and wet within you. You tightened your fist and came once more, leftover cum dribbling down your fingers as the beast held you close and spilled inside of you again, thrusting short and shallow as it rode out its climax.

When it removed itself from you, you moaned, feeling all the cum he pumped into you dribbling out and down your thighs. You held onto the wall, catching your breath and hoping you wouldn’t fall to your knees.

The beast didn't help, its tongue surprising you as it licked at the wet mess between your cheeks. It lapped hungrily at it, and took no time in plunging into your ass. Your knees shook, you begged, mumbling under your breath as it licked you from the inside. Its tongue swirled and prodded hard at your inner walls, tasting you and itself all at once.

You shuddered, oversensitive as it refused to let up. Your legs were about to give out, but the beast licked hard at something inside and you saw stars. With a loud wail, you shook and came dry, completely untouched as its claws dug into your hips.

You must have blacked out after that, because when you came to, you were resting on a familiar mattress. Next to you was your bag and notebook, where you usually put them before the day was over and the platoon went to sleep. It was your bunk bed, where you slept before the horrors happened.

And next to you, where your dear friend once slept, was the beast, resting its tired, monstrous body. It didn't even fit on the bed, both legs and an arm falling off the edge comically.

You turned and lay on your back, staring at the metal framing of the bunk bed and cotton of the used mattress above you.

It was a strange situation, most unexpected for sure, but all things considered it wasn't so bad.

Maybe you two could both make it out of there. Run away from the trenches and make it through the French countryside where the only disturbances consisted of early rooster calls and the occasional downpour. Deserters got a bad rep, for sure, but nobody needed to know.

Running away didn't seem so bad, if it were done in good company.

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[realthoughtsreal]

An ace finds an ace

This Monday, for the first time in my life, I met another ace.

At 22, in a small country, I had long accepted I’d never meet another ace here, nevermind people who respected it or even understood the meaning of the word.

I had gotten some kind of vibe from them, I knew we’d get along great, and I could tell they were queer somehow, but I didn’t really imagine them to be ace, you know? Because it’s always easier to picture someone as bi, pan, or gay, than it is to picture them as ace.

Do you know how few of us there are, compared to other sexualities? So few that meeting in the wild is a miracle.

I found out when we were chatting after class, they’re one of my classmates. A group of us were talking about some ‘hearmeout’ trend on Tiktok about attractive characters and we asked each other the ones we’d choose. My turn came and I shrugged awkwardly, saying “No idea. I’m, well, ace so. Yeah.”

To my great pleasure and surprise, the others didn’t bat an eye or ask me what ace was, they just asked “Oh, just ace or aro too?” Their gazes didn’t changed a bit, they were still just as kind and friendly.

I was shocked and sorta just mumbled “Well yeah? Sort of both? I mean I know I can feel romantic attraction for someone, but it has happened less than 3 times in my life. So. Yeah.”

“Oh I see.”

And then this classmate, that I had thought from the first day was cool as hell goes “Oh me too actually.”

And dudes. My guys. When I tell you my jaw didn’t drop but I immediately froze and got teary eyed. My eyes got all shiny and a wide, genuine smile spread over my cheeks. My chest quivered and suddenly I feared I’d start to cry. I got choked up and barely replied.

To think I’d finally meet another ace, a classmate at that, and one who I really get along with?!

I didn’t realize how desperate I was for connection and understanding from someone in the same position as me until that moment. We got talking and I kept choking up over my words, because we had the same experiences and issues in high school because of our aceness.

My heart was absolutely shaken, but I felt warm all over. Comfort like none other I had known before; the comfort of being known and understood.

This extremely cool person was like me.

I barely held back tears, but couldn’t push down my instinctual smiles and bright attitude after that.

I’ve kept the happy mood all week, and every time we see each other, we now chat and greet each other naturally. There’s a connection and mutual understanding between us, now that we know we are both ace, and we’re the first ace we’ve met to one another.

Aceness can be tough. It is tough. And isolating. But it being isolating from the rest of society and its way of life, doesn’t mean we have to be lonely.

We can find and choose friends and family to fill our lives. As ace/aro people, our lives will always look different from allos, but that’s okay.

I feel like this year, I’ve been learning to come to terms with that. I’m learning how to be a happy ace in this society. I have friends I hang out and talk with, I have family members who see me and accept me, have never made me feel like I need to explain my existence/come out, I go to class and have fun, I enjoy going to cafes, I can be happy for others without envy for their life styles.

We’re people too. Not abnormal freaks.

Maybe not everyone will respect us. Maybe not everyone will like us as people. Maybe some will always thinks of us as sick.

But you, ace person reading this, must know you are not sick. You are not a freak, and you are not alone. We’re out there. You just have to reach out.

And to the allo person reading this; inform yourself. Remember to treat everyone with kindness and patient understanding. Asexuality is not a sickness, that’s a common misconception. If you encounter an ace person in the wild, just treat them as you would everyone else: with kindness. Do not question their existence. They’ve had enough of that. Respect aroace people, do not force them into situations theymre uncomfortable with.

[sevendeadlymorons]

Can you do a headcanons for the bros(and undateables minus Luke if you want) reacting to MC running at them, jumping into their arms, wrapping their legs around their waist and lovingly kissing them before telling them they love them before walking off🥺 my girlfriend did this and I was ✨crying✨

Fluff night fluff night fluff night

Brothers + Undateables Reaction to MC Jumping Into Their Arms and Kissing Them

—————————————————

Lucifer

He was standing in the corridor when he heard quick footsteps coming up behind him, to which he immediately turned around and saw you sprinting at him with your arms open

Chuckles as he realises what you were doing, opening up his arms as you leap onto him, smothering his face in kisses with your legs wrapped around him, his arms quickly going to support you

Kisses your head back as you quickly tell him that you love him, staring deep into his eyes with sincerity and passion

Goes to say I love you back, but you’d already leaped off of him and walked off

He laughs again, going after you; grabbing ahold of your wrist and pulling you towards him for another loving kiss, his arms snaking around your back to lift you up once again

He quite likes when you do it now, maybe just let him know when you’re charging at him though

Mammon

Originally was snooping around, looking for something he could sell when he heard fast footsteps behind him

He panicked and turned around, but calmed down when he saw your gleaming face, your arms outstretched like you were meaning to hug him

He smiled and outstretched his arms too, expecting a hug, but he almost lost his balance when you leapt on to him and wrapped your legs around him; smothering his face with dozens of kisses and I love you’s

Couldn’t even process what was happening until he saw you’d walked away and left him alone with a dumb look on his face

Immediately goes bright red, flustered from what you’d just done and his brain was in complete mush from your utter cuteness

Instinctively chases after you, determined to return that ‘I love you’ and get you back for your shameless teasing

Leviathan

Getting a parcel from the door when he heard charging doorsteps behind him

He turned around curiously but immediately turned back when he saw you running towards him with your arms outstretched and a massive grin on your face

He couldn’t even think properly when you’d just attached yourself to his back, wrapping your legs around his stomach and squeezing him tightly, littering his cheeks and ears with warm kisses, making his head dizzy

Goes bright red when you whisper ‘I love you’ in his ear, complete and utterly flustered from your hot breath alone

Actually sorta disappointed when you hop off and walk away, and finds himself pouting a bit

Goes after you, attaching himself to your back this time in a shy hug and returning your affection and I love you’s

Satan

Reaching a book off the top shelf when he heard distant footsteps, getting louder and gradually coming towards him

He was greeted with a cheerful smile off you, watching you as you charged towards him with your arms open. He chuckles and opens his arms to let you in

Didn’t expect you to full blown tackle him though, as his body hits the bookshelf behind him; your legs attaching themself to him in a tight embrace, your lips affectionately kissing all over his face

Wraps his arms around you and squeezes you lightly, returning a few kisses cheekily until you decided to hop off of him and walk away

He was going to just go back to his books, but after that display, he doesn’t think he could

Huffs and runs after you, catching up to you and backing you up into a wall, smirking as he lays a single kiss on your neck, then whispering ‘I love you’ into your ear

Asmodeus

Walking home from RAD when he heard footsteps coming from behind him, so he turned around thinking it was one of his loving fans

But when he saw you running towards him, looking so happy with your arms open wide, he couldn’t help but smile and rush towards you too

He toppled over when you suddenly lunged at him, though, wrapping your arms and legs around him and squeezing him tightly; smiling into his neck

So there you two were, on the ground, his arms wrapped around your waist as he rocks you gently, letting you kiss every part of his face and neck, returning all of them onto your blushing cheeks

You held his face and whispered I love you, then jumped up and sprinted off, turning back to make sure he was following you

He pouted and quickly got up off the floor to chase after you, quickly catching up and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, giving kisses to your neck and nape, showing you in loving affection

Beelzebub

Sneaking food from the fridge when he heard footsteps rushing towards him. He presumed it was Mammon about to yell at him for eating all his leftovers so ignored it

Until, he heard you shout his name, quickly making him turn around and get attacked by a surprise hug, your legs wrapping around his waist as you bury your face in his neck

He was backed up against the fridge while you scatter kiss upon kiss all over his cheeks, filling his ears with I love you’s

Smiled into your neck as he embraced you, loving the sudden affection

When you’d kissed his nose and cheekily jumped off, his face was the exact replica of a sad puppy

Went chasing after you, grabbing ahold of your waist and tugging you towards his stomach, completely forgetting about his food and only needing your love and attention in that moment

Belphegor

He was about to go to bed; he was exhausted and was pretty close to collapsing at this point but soon heard fast footsteps coming up behind him

He had a pretty vague idea of who it could be so turned around and straight away saw you with a huge grin on your face, your arms open wide. He smiled weakly and opened his arms up for you

His legs completely gave out when you pelted yourself at him, crashing to the floor, your legs wrapped around his waist as you rub your cheek against him and plant kisses all over his neck and cheeks

He laughs under his breath, wrapping his arms around you, cuddling up to your warmth while you two were scattered on the carpet

You look him in the eye and sweetly tell him you love him before getting up and running away

He’d love to chase you but he was way too tired so maybe he’ll just mercilessly tease you tomorrow instead

Diavolo

Heard someone running up behind him, so he turned around to see your smiling face with your arms outstretched

He laughed heartily and opened up his arms, crouching down slightly as you full on leaped into his arms and wrapped your legs around his waist

He didn’t expect you to do that but was enjoying himself while he squeezed you tightly, letting you kiss every inch of his face and showering him in affection

Felt his cheeks go fairly red when you whispered ‘I love you’ and rested your forehead on his, before letting go of him and wiggling your way free

He didn’t even bother to hide the disappointment on his face as he wandered after you like a lost puppy and pulled you into his arms again

Showered you in even more kisses and I love you’s, laughing all the time as he felt your smile against his lips

Barbatos

Peacefully making tea for the Prince when he saw you in the corner of his eye charging towards him, to which he turned around to face you, watching your ecstatic face gleefully

He opened up his arms to catch you, bracing himself for the impact since he knew full well what you were about to do

You leapt onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he held you tenderly, making sure you weren’t going to fall

Enjoyed the feeling of your warm lips as they kissed his cheeks and neck, returning those kisses by placing a few onto your forehead as well

When you stared him straight in the eyes and told him you loved him, he could feel his cheeks burn a slight shades of pink and his heart rate quicken, allowing you to place yet another kiss onto his nose

He knew you were going to jump off and run away from him so he purposely held you tighter, watching you squirm then quickly give up as you realised it was pointless and instead enjoying the comfort of his embrace and the warmth of his body against yours

Solomon

Was on his way to practise some new spells at RAD when he saw you across the corridor, to which he smiled and waved at you

You immediately locked eyes with him and started pelting yourself towards him with your arms outstretched and a big smile on your face

He looked at you in curiosity as you got closer, then almost fell back from the impact when you jumped into his arms, tightly wrapping your legs around his waist and rubbing your nose into his neck

He chuckled and rubbed your hair playfully, allowing you to place warm kisses all over his neck and tell him you love him

Was about to return your affection until you suddenly jumped off and ran away

A smirk appeared on his lips as he saw your teasing manor as a challenge; one he wasn’t going to lose easily as he charged forward, tackling you into a hug and kissing your neck and cheeks

Simeon

The angel was on a walk out in the gardens when he heard loud footsteps coming from behind him, so naturally he turned around to check what it was

Immediately saw you rushing towards him and he wondered if there was something wrong so stepped closer to you

It wasn’t until you outstretched your arms and jumped onto him that he realised this was a surprise hug

He felt you squeeze your thighs around his waist and cuddle into his neck, littering him with passionate kisses

His face went bright red as he felt you hug him tighter, hesitantly going to support you when he felt you slipping off, a small smile spreading across his face when you look him in the eye and gave a quick peck to his nose, uttering a single ‘I love you’ before jumping off and walking away

It took a while to process what just happened but he was soon following you with a sappy smile on his lips to return to you that singular ‘I love you’

[dreamingofaizawa]

Good Kitty

Shouta Aizawa x Chubby! Kitty Hybrid! Fem! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are under the age of 18, leave. Thank you.

Warnings:��Kitty hybrid reader, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink (?), reader has insecurities, Shouta is soft and lowkey feral?, chubby kink (sorta), reader has a heat for the first time, barely implied virginity loss, a touch of dacryphilia

Word Count: 2.4 k

Author’s Note: This is inspired by @cupcake-rogue ’s fic Not Allowed on the Bed. I got permission to use it as inspo so here we are! Tbh the orignal had me feeling all sorts of feelings because, as a very subby sub that loves to please, I definitely have a praise kink and I WILL CRY if I’m called a bad girl. HOWEVER, Katsuki being the rough-around-the-edges guy he is wanting reader regardless of size made me very happy and warm and fuzzy. 

The premise with this is pretty much the same, except I made reader a kitty hybrid...and of course I wrote for Shouta, love of my life he is. I’m such a fucking simp. I’m not the biggest fan of the ending, but this has been sitting in my WIPs for too damn long and it’s decent enough for me to feel ok posting it.

Also, for reference, reader has black fur regardless of hair color. Reader could be blonde, but still have black ears and tail. That’s just the way I’ve chosen to write this for some reason, don’t ask me why, I’m weird like that. 

I think this is the first time I’ve written for a hybrid, so cut me a little slack.

Anywho, enjoy~

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You can’t remember life outside the shelter. You’d grown up here, the caretakers said they’d found you on the street as a nearly newborn kitten and immediately scooped you up and brought you back here. That was a long time ago. Now you sit, waiting, your hopes for getting adopted diminishing with every passing day.

It’s unfortunate, but you still haven’t been adopted. It’s not that you’re bad, you always behave, you make sure you do. But you’ve overheard time and time again the people that gazed down at you and whispered about how you were too chunky, too big and too squishy for a kitty hybrid. And some even called you bad luck. The pitch black fur on your ears and tail warded off many.

Today was just the same as any other day. Wake up, get fed, wait in your room while potential owners pick and choose not you. Adults and children alike would take chunks out of their time to play with you, but they all left the shelter with another smaller cat. It was nearing bed time now, dinner just finished and the caretakers were about to start closing when the little bell on the front door jingled. Someone had just come in. You ignored it all the same.

Two pairs of footsteps began making their way past rooms, whoever it was that had entered smelled good, like coffee and tree bark. A smooth hum accompanied the caretaker’s voice, it made your ears twitch and tail sway gently. Still, you decided to just curl up in bed and try to sleep. The chance of him adopting you was slim, if it existed at all.

As you lay there your ears pick up their footsteps, the lazy set that dragged familiar, the nearly silent set less so. You listened as they came closer, never stopping as the man strode past each room and peered in the windows. You waited for them to pass right by your room, as they had been, but suddenly the footsteps halted. The caretaker spoke first.

“Y/n? You awake?” You let your eyes flutter open and sat up, tucking your legs under you and sitting up straight. They asked the man if he wanted to go in and see you, and he gave a simple nod. When he entered you finally looked up at him. The first thing you noticed were his eyes, tired and bloodshot with dark circles beneath them, a deep scar curved under his right eye. His long black hair fell around his shoulders, swaying lightly with every measured step he took toward you.

He stopped right in front of you, a large hand stretching out and you give it a small sniff before nudging your head into it, letting him pet your hair and scratch at the base of your ears. It felt nice to be getting attention like this. A small purr sounded in your chest, your tail gently swishing behind you.

“How long have you been here?” His voice is deep and calm, tired even, but it sounds so welcoming. It’s so soothing to your sensitive ears, like a warm blanket. You give a small hum before answering.

“A long time. I don’t remember anything outside this place.” At that he raised an eyebrow, turning to the caretaker with a questioning look.

“Most people look for...specific traits in the cat hybrids. Y/n here is well behaved, a perfect house kitty really,” you purred a bit at the praise, “But she’s a little larger than most. And her black fur wards off the more superstitious.” The man gives a curious hum before looking back down at you.

“Do you want to come home with me, kitty?” The question caught you a little off guard. Nobody really asked the hybrids if they wanted to go with them. You looked over to the caretaker, who nodded their head with a gentle smile, encouraging you to answer. All you could do was give a small nod, and soon you were in the car, on the way to your new home.

He’d told you to call him Shouta. He was nice, always quiet and never got mad. He never smiled, but you supposed that’s just the way he is. He gave you your own room, and always let you rub up on him when you wanted to, taking the opportunity to pet you. Occasionally you got the odd kiss on the forehead when you nuzzled into his neck. Those always made you purr. He never came seeking you out, which was good since there were times you really didn’t want to be touched. 

The longer you’re with him the closer you get, and you find yourself doing things you’d never thought to do before. Sometimes you found the floor more comfortable than the couch, and would kneel down and rub up on his leg, your tail wrapping around his ankle. There were times you’d see his fingers idly drumming on his lap, and you’d lay down and nibble on one with your little fang-like canines. He didn’t seem to mind that little oral fixation, and he always let you do whatever you wanted. All in all, life with Shouta is great.

But today you feel weird. You’d been cooped up in your room for the first hour or so of the weekend morning, not quite wanting to go out and make it known something was off. But it’s gotten abnormally hot, your face and chest especially warm, and between your legs as well. Your panties are beginning to feel damp, your thighs starting to feel humid and sticky. It’s a little uncomfortable. And your tummy is starting to boil, neediness beginning to cloud your mind. This never happened at the shelter.

Reluctantly, you step out of bed onto slightly wobbly legs and peek your head out of your door to see him sitting on the couch, a book in hand and a mug of coffee on the table. His hair is loose, his strong lean body relaxed as he read. The sight of him and his scent made the feeling worse, made your panties and thighs wetter, your chest beginning to heave with your panted breaths. 

“Sh-shouta…” Your voice came out shakier and quieter than you wanted it to, but he’d heard you regardless. He closed the book and peered over at your shaking form in the doorway.

“What is it kitty?” You nearly mewled at his voice, his heavenly smooth baritone sending a shiver down your spine through to the tip of your tail.

“Something’s wrong...I feel weird…” As you tell him about everything that’s happening to your body, he’s dragging his eyes over you, taking in every detail. Soon he’s on the phone with the doctor, you can’t quite comprehend his words, only catching snippets. ‘Help’ and ‘how long’, followed by agreeing hums. It was all jumbled after that, your mind refusing to focus as you leaned heavily on the doorframe, your quivering legs barely able to hold your body.

Shouta’s large hand came up and cupped your cheek, letting you nuzzle into his palm. When had he hung up the phone? He ordered you to sit on the bed, and you obliged, watching as he swept up his hair into a loose bun and strode over, tilting your chin to look up at him through half-lidded eyes. He’s so close, his scent overwhelming and making your brain fuzzy.

“You’re in heat, kitty.” Heat...where had you heard that before? Back at the shelter, maybe? It was all a distant, unfocused memory right now. Shouta leaned down and kissed you sweetly, lips melding with yours as you purred and mewled, your tail thrashing behind you. His hands tugged at your clothes until you were bare before him, every inch of you on display. 

“You’re such a pretty kitty, you know that? So beautiful. Lay down for me.” The praise made you purr, made a chill crawl up your spine and your tail flick wildly. You obeyed the command, laying flat in the middle of the bed and he slotted himself between your legs, plunging two fingers into your tight hole. He let out a groan, pumping and scicssoring his fingers to stretch you out. You were already a sloppy mess, loud squelches ringing through the room in between your loud, whiny mewls and panting. 

It felt so good, the heat in your belly burning and tightening until Shouta’s fingers curled up into a spot that made stars dance in your vision. The pressure in your belly snapped hard, your legs trembling as he kept fingering you through it. His fingers slowed when you whined about it being too much, too sensitive. But you still felt hot all over, now it was worse, you wanted something so bad but you didn’t know what.

He got up and undressed himself and you licked your lips at his naked body, scarred skin pulled taut over thick muscle. What stood between his legs had heat spreading like fire through your body. You’d never seen a naked man before. He was quick to return to you, slotting his hips between your thighs and guiding the thick head of his cock along your soaked folds. 

“Relax kitty. I’m gonna make you feel good.” You gave a small nod and then he was pushing his thick cock inside you, groaning at the way your pussy clamped down on him. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as he slowly pushed and pumped his hips, cock dragging along your wet warm walls perfectly. Mewls slipped past your lips, high pitched whines and pants like music in Shouta’s ears. 

His hands wandered over your body, squishing and pulling at every piece of you he could get his calloused fingers on. It made you squirm beneath him, your own hands trying to push his away, but he wasn’t having any of it. He grabbed both your wrists and pinned them above your head in one strong hand, then went right back to groping your body with his free one.

“I can’t have you stopping me from touching you, kitty.” That’s all he said before focusing back on your body. He tugged at your belly, your sides, every place that was fatty and squishy. He’d never admit out loud how much he loved how soft you are. You’re perfect, plump and meaty, just more for him to touch, to look at, more to squeeze and pinch and pull.

He groaned out as you whined beneath him, tears beginning to clump in your lashes because he just kept squeezing, and he isn’t fucking you hard enough. Your orgasm built slowly with his languid pace, not nearly enough to get you to that peak and you were frustrated because you wanted relief but it wouldn’t come. Shouta picks up on your hips jerking and rolling, trying to get him to fucking move faster. He pulled his hips back and slammed back in, setting a brutal pace and making you whine high and long. 

Tears begin to fall from the sheer ecstasy of it, and he’s realizing how much he loves to see you cry from the pleasure he can give you. With a groan, he’s releasing your hands and wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his face into your breasts and biting and sucking at your skin as he pounds you into the mattress. He isn’t normally an impulsive man, wouldn’t let himself let go like this. But for you. For you he’d give in to his lust and ravage you like you need him to.

Your orgasm slams over your body like a tsunami, your muscles locking up and a loud yip ringing from your throat, pleasure making your whole body shake. Shouta let out a hiss, your nails digging into the muscles in his back furiously, but he wouldn’t stop for that. He never stuttered in his pace, just kept ramming his hips into yours, heavy balls slapping against your ass and lewd squelches coming from where your bodies are connected. 

You’re overstimulated, throat feeling raw and tears still falling down your heated cheeks as you thrash from another orgasm, this one just as powerful as the last and making your vision spot black. This time Shouta leans back, wrapping a hand around your throat and licking the salty trails away.

“Such a good little kitty for me, so good.” With a few more thrusts he’s spilling inside you, and you can feel the warmth spread in your belly as you lay there, boneless. He lays down on top of you, both of you sweaty and tired and he starts whispering sweet words into your twitching ears.

“So pretty. You’re so pretty, kitten.” 

“Such a good girl for me.”

“You’re all mine, kitty. So good, all for me.” Tears begin to spill from your eyes for a different reason. Up until now you’d lived your life believing nobody wanted you because there was something wrong with you. You never felt ugly, never really felt like there was something truly wrong with you, but you always felt...unwanted. Unloved. Unlovable. 

But Shouta makes you feel wanted, and loved, and pretty and all the things you always assumed you didn’t deserve. You’re his kitty now, and you’re such a good kitty for him too. He’s showering you with affection that you’d never known before and you’re shaking from all the overwhelming emotions. He can feel your body quivering, leans back to look at you and cups your face in his warm palm.

“What’s wrong, kitten? Why are you crying?” Your nose twitches as you sniffle, which he mildly notes is fucking adorable.

“Do you mean it? Am I a good kitty?” His eyebrows furrow and he rolls the both of you over so you’re on top of him. He’s peering into your big sad eyes as if reading your soul through them, trying to read the emotions you’re feeling, but it isn’t hard for him to figure out what’s racing through your mind. You nuzzle your nose into his neck and breathe in his scent, his hand coming up to pet your hair and ears.

“Of course, kitten. You’re such a good kitty.” The small reassurance makes you feel warm and happy, your tail flicking softly before curling around both your leg and Shouta’s, the end brushing his skin gently. You can’t help but want to stay with Shouta forever.

[gamerwoo]

hansol: the lovers playlist

characters: hansol x female reader

genre/warnings: idol au, best friends to possibly lovers?, fluff sorta

word count: 658

summary: i don’t wanna waste it, don’t wanna waste it the night.

previous song | next song | back to playlist

Despite everything going on between your members’ constant curiosity about your friendship with Hansol, and the little rumors spreading here and there online, you had zero time to think about any of that. You wanted to because honestly, after that morning when Mira said something, you kept having little thoughts of ‘what if’. But you were in the midst of a comeback and you were about to travel to America to do some promotions there for a few weeks, too. To even think about opening that can of worms right now would be the dumbest thing you could possibly do.

But of course, Hansol pops back into your mind when he texts you after your music show performance – because of course Seventeen was performing too, so he knew when it was over – and asks if you want to hang out that night. Knowing you’re leaving in the morning for America for at least the next month, how could you say no?

So that’s how you find yourself in Hansol’s car for once. Usually you’re the driver just because you don’t really mind it, but Hansol insisted on driving this time.

“You should relax since you have to be up early tomorrow,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, though, I’ll have you back before you have to leave.”

But as you rode shotgun in Hansol’s car, you, as always when you hung out together, found yourself not wanting to go home. You wanted to just pause time and be in a little infinity with your best friend. You wanted to continue to talk about nothing and everything, and laugh and talk about deep, serious things. 

“Is there anywhere you wanted to go, by the way?” Hansol asked after one of your many conversations had naturally ended and the two of you were sitting in comfortable silence for a few minutes, just the sound of 5 Seconds of Summer softly filling the car. But his voice almost made you jump because you were lost in your thoughts about your feelings toward Hansol – you were silently cursing your bandmates for planting this stupid seed in your head.

“No,” you replied, glancing at the dashboard to check the time.

1:09am.

“C’mon, there’s gotta be something,” he pressed with a chuckle. “I can’t bring you home yet. I’m not gonna see you for an entire month, dude.”

Your eyes went out of focus, staring at the soft glow of the dashboard where the song, artist, and time were displayed. But none of it registered. The butterflies that erupted when he said that threw you off. But…maybe that always happened and you just never thought anything of it? Maybe you assumed you felt that way because it was just nice to feel like he liked hanging out with you? Or maybe…it was more but you never considered that an option?

‘Oh god, do I…actually have feelings for Hansol?’ you asked yourself.

You turned your head in small movements to look at him, almost feeling timid as your eyes landed on his profile.

‘I don’t wanna say goodbye to another night, and watch you walk away,’ the bridge played from the speakers, ‘I don’t wanna let it burn in the city lights, and make the same mistakes this time.’

He felt your stare and glanced at you with a warm smile and laugh to match, “What’s that look for?”

“N-nothing,” you replied a little too quickly.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he frowned slightly, assuming that his comment about not seeing each other was why you were staring at him with an unreadable expression. “I mean, if it’s cool, I’d be willing to stay over.”

You’d had sleepovers with Hansol before, but suddenly it was nerve wracking.

‘No,’ you told yourself, ‘you’re just overthinking because of Mira and the girls. This is literally nothing.’

So, because you, like Hansol, didn’t want to say goodbye yet, either, you smiled and said, “Yeah, of course.”