#and that makes it so so much harder for me to just leave

[sylusismybby]

Sylus doesn't realize how big he is until the first time you two have sex. You hiss, your hand gripping onto his bicep tightly as he pushes his cock into you. "Everything alright, sweetie?" His voice held a certain amount of gentleness, he stops moving as he waits for you answer. "Yes...you're just...big..." Sylus lets a small smile come to his lips. "I'll just have to be careful then. Wouldn't want to overwhelm you thus early on, kitten." His hips move forward again, this time he takes his time, making sure you feel all of him. Your gasps and moans are like music to his ears, he can listen to them all day. "Tell me if it's too much and I'll stop." It was too much but you didn't want him to pull out, it felt painfully good.

Once he was fully inside of you, he let's you adjust to his size, moving only a little bit. Your pussy squeezed him a few times making him groan. "You feel amazing. Can I move now?" He leans down feeling the way your legs wrap around his body, he holds onto your thighs as he kisses up to your jaw. "Yes." It's a weak yes, you felt so full, he felt so good. Sylus nods and then starts moving his hips setting a slow pace at first. As soon as he sees that your experience grows to one of full pleasure, he speeds up, his hips moving quicker, harder. The moans that leave your mouth get louder, your hands move from his arms to his back, nails digging into his pale skin. He chuckles, he isnt fucking you fast, he is fucking you well. "There we go. Thats my good kitten." He kisses you on the lips, it's a kiss of raw passion, you feel him everywhere in your body. The room is filled with skin slapping noises as his cock moves in and out of your pussy.

Pulling away from the kiss, he grabs your hands pinning your wrists above your head. "Look at yourself. You're taking me so well." His red eyes are filled with adoration and lust, this is exactly how he wanted you. You look up at the mirror that was above the bed, it's an imagine that you wish you can take a picture of. Sylus is on top of you, his body moving against yours, his back painted by the scratches of your nails, your sweaty bodies illuminated by the dim lights. It didn't him long to realize where you were looking, he bites into your neck before speaking. "Enjoying the view are we? Atta girl." Then he starts to thrust into you faster, his cock pouding you deeper than before. A loud moan of his name echoes through the room, you grab onto the sheets, eyes rolling back. He was hitting all the right spots.

When your velvety walls start to clench around his length, he knows that you're close, so he slows down, wanting to savor every bit of you. Sylus takes one of your breats in his mouth, his tongue eagerly swirling against your nipple. The combined pleasure is making you lose your mind, your back arches. "Syl! Faster please!" You're begging him now, something you swore you'll never do. "Is that so? Well, what my kitten wants, she gets." He takes hold of your legs and puts them on his shoulder.kissing your ankle before his movements speed up. Sylus admires the way your breasts bounce at his every hard thrust, he admires how your body reacts so perfectly to his. "Syl! I'm close!" The desperation in your voice makes his cock twitch, you feel it too. His hand moves down your leg until it reaches your core, he gently rubs his thumb over your clit to get you to cum. It works, tou cum around his cock, your body twisting in pleasure as your orgasm washes over you. He follows, pulling out quickly and painting your stomach white, his eyes are closed for a moment before he looks at you again. Sylus gives you a few moments before he turns the position around si you were on top of him. "We aren't done yet. Afterall..." He looks up, looking at your reflections in the mirror. "...it's time for me to admire the view too, sweetie."

[moechies]

older shiu who makes you fuck yourself on a dildo in front of him becuase he can’t fuck you—can’t get hard without those stupid little pills because of his growing age. ♡

and you pout, sniffle and whine when he tells you to put a show on for him instead of taking you into his hold and fucking you senseless on the memory mattress of his penthouse overlooking the ocean view.

you’re still whining, even when tugging down your panties to reveal that pretty, fresh pussy that he’s been looking forward to all day— and he thinks it must be a curse bestowed upon him not being able to get hard at the sight before him. perhaps it’s karma for all of his previous sins— he doesn’t know.

and when you finally slip your cotton panty off your left leg, it hanging from your right angle as you shakily spread your legs, taking the pink, transparent toy to slide it up and down against your slick.

you hiss, breath hitching weakly at the lack of preparation, realizing just how tantalizing it is to press the rather small toy (in comparison to him, at least) in without the help of your lover.

“sh—shiu, please, prep me, h—help, shiu!”

you whimper, dropping the toy and tossing your arms around the thick of his neck.

“oh darling, i told you to put a show on for me, didn’t i? you can’t even finger yourself open?” he scoffs condescendingly, only shaking your head with soft sniffles against his chest.

“pleaseee, daddy!”

“how cruel. do you know how weak you make me, little lady?”

you gasp when you feel a thick finger press against your soddened slit, barely slipping inside your gooey walls before curling the joint up.

“haaah, daddy!”

“there you go.” he whispers when you fall pliant against his hold, back against his burly chest with his free hand splayed across your tummy—tracing soft circles across your hips. “my good girl.”

“you can’t even take that little cock without needin’ my help baby? what would you do without me, baby.”

you writhe when his thumb presses down on your clit, circling the sensitive nub so perfectly that you almost think he’ll let you cum. but your fantasies are resolved to nothing, “there you go baby.” shiu grunts, quickly removing his fingers from your pussy and reaching for the dildo yet again.

“here baby. utilize this. make y’r daddy proud?”

you thrash in frustration, whining out loud as you take the stupid, stupid toy into your hands.

“daddy, wan’ you to d—do it.”

“what, fuck you with it?”

you nod slowly, teary eyes so awfully big and alluring that he almost falls for your little scenic ploy.

“no, baby, do it yourself.” he knows you all too well.

and with a bit of bargaining and some more incessant whining, you find yourself splayed in front of the man once again, your calves stepping over his thighs from where he sits, the pink toy held promptly in between your thighs.

you can’t help the soft cry that leaves your lips after pushing in the tip of the toy— much harder and nonetheless, cold in comparison to your husbands cock. compared to shiu, the toy deems to be unfulfilling and fustrating to use after months of laying prettily under your husband and allowing him all the work.

“da—daddy,”

“yes, darling? do you like it? bein’ a little exhibitionist f’me, hon? i sure do.”

“a..am i doing it r—right?” you sigh, mindlessly pushing in further and helping at the unexpected pain you had never even fell close to feeling when your husband was doing the word.

“not quite. have some rhythm, baby. you’re just pushing it into my poor cunny relentlessly.”

“noo… please, don’t wa—wanna, wan’ you to do it!”

“you’re too spoiled, baby.”

nonetheless, shiu pulls you into his much bigger lap, taking the toy into his left hand and spreading the fatty lips of your pussy with his right.

“she’s all swollen, you’ve been so mean to her. treatin’ her so bad.”

all you can manage is to whimper out a sorry, thumping your leg in desperation.

“listen up now,” shiu instructs, pressing the sticky tip of the dildo to your slit at a lower angle in contrast to your previously straight one. “see how i’ve angled it? isn’t that always how i fuck you? and it never hurts, does it?”

“no, daddy.” you whimper, thighs quivering in anticipation.

“good, now,” he grunts, pressing the tip in so swiftly that it makes you wince. “hnn—“

“look, i’ll fuck you with rhythm, and you’ll feel the difference between how you and i did it. alright?” you only gasp, incapable of a word response and only nodding incessantly.

he pumps the toy into you with fervor, slowing when he presses the toy in deeper and deeper until the plastic base barely touches your soppy cunt. he pulls the toy out much faster, keeping his consistent pace with rudy pummels to your simulated cunt.

“d—daddy!”

you clasp your thighs around the toy—which was much more manageable when he had his waist in between your little thighs that make it physically impossible to avoid his fuckings.

"don't shut your legs doll. i'll stop and you won't cum at all if you do it again." the man growls, pinching at the skin of your thigh. you yelp, spreading your thighs again to avoid conflict with the man.

"you look like you're enjoying this too much, darling. are you even taking this as a learning experience?"

you nod, unsure of what he really even said but if it meant he'd keep up with his pace-you didn't care. you gasp, breath hitching when he stops adruptly. removing the slicked up toy from your clenching cunt.

"here," shiu hands you the sticky toy, feeling your eyes well with tears and bottom lip tremble when you realize,

"you know how to do it now, right? fuck yourself, then, and it better impress me.”

[syoddeye]

cygnet, plucked | price x reader | part one part one cw: clothes stealing, forced transformation, coercion, familial abandonment, non-consensual touching/manhandling, restraints, masturbation mention, forced marriage forthcoming cw: dubcon, forced marriage, blood, mild injury a/n: reader is a swan shapeshifter. she retains some feathers as a human. based off this request, obvs influenced by swan-maidens, swan lake.

The first time he touches you, it's your wrist. A firm grip, just below the joint. Testing. Feeling the few feathers that sprout there, thumbing over the delicate, individual rachis.

You don't move. Don't speak. Torn between the instinct to flee and the paralyzing fear that you cannot. You watch his face. The thick brows, the kempt beard. The wrinkles that pull at his forehead when he frowns.

He is older than you—older than you look, at least. His arms are burly, heavy with muscle and hair, his shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows like he means to get his hands dirty at any moment. Willing to. Blue eyes, your favorite color until this second, framed by crow's feet and speak to experience.

He looks at you with expectations you wish you didn't understand.

"Can't leave without this, can you?"

Your dress, spun from feathers and thread, drapes over his shoulder like a pelt. As if it were a thing he hunted, caught, claimed—that he did not simply steal it from the lakeshore when you were distracted. It doesn't belong there. It doesn't belong anywhere but on you.

"Come along. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

Your sisters are gone. Fled, shrieking into the oncoming sunrise. You do not blame them. But it hurts. 

The lake is still. Empty.

He lets the silence stretch, patient. He has all the time in the world. You don't.

You've watched human men before, from a safe distance, tucked among the reeds with your sisters. You've seen what they do when they think no one is watching. The way their faces shift at the sight of a woman. The way their hands reach, take, ruin.

You are a flightless bird, exposed. Not much of a swan. A sitting duck.

What choice do you have?

You follow.

You learn his name is John. That he has lived in this cabin for almost a year. That he built it himself. That he traps and skins, chops wood, salts fish, keeps a gun out of reach, hidden like your dress.

He tells you these things in pieces, the same way he feeds you. A bowl of soup set down in front of you with no ceremony. A tin cup of well water. A torn hunk of bread.

He talks a little, asks a little.

"Never seen anything like you," he says on the second night while you cower behind his chair by the fire. Where you slept after tearing out of his arms and screaming yourself hoarse. "Wish you'd talk to me. Awfully shy, aren't you?"

It galls you. Shy. As if he is not keeping you here, naked. Vulnerable. You ache for your wings. The sky.

You say nothing.

He exhales through his nose, it sounds like a laugh. "I suppose it's not an easy thing, coming from a life like yours."

You want to ask him what he thinks your life was. But you don't want to know what he would say.

He keeps the dress in a chest under his bed.

You desperately search and find it while he is outside splitting wood. The latch is loose. Stupidly unlocked. You lift the lid and your breath catches. There it is. Your feathers, your escape, the lifeline that made you you.

Your fingers graze the fabric. It should be soft, but it feels wrong, foreign and unfamiliar under your hands. You wonder if it is altered. If it will still fit. If it's too late, tainted by his handling.

"Looking for something?"

You slam the lid shut.

John stands in the doorway, hands on his hips. Forehead slick with sweat. The axe is outside, leaning against the chopping block, but his knife is at his belt.

He'd hurt you if you tried to run, maybe kill you. You are not so sure you want to die.

You don't answer.

He crosses the room. He doesn't look angry. He looks—wry. Pleased. Like he had been waiting for this.

He kneels beside you, one arm resting on his knee, and tilts his head. Reeking of pine and tobacco smoke. "That's not for you anymore, darling."

You swallow. This is the closest you've been since he entrapped you. "It is mine."

He nods, as if conceding the point. "And what would you do with it?" he asks. "Go back? To what?"

He reaches out, wiping away a single, hot tear. The fireplace pops, and you feel the warmth of his skin before you feel the roughness of his fingers. You hate it.

"The lake is still empty. They've not come back."

You think of your sisters. You think of the wind under your wings and streaming over your back, the open sky. You think of the sound of John reviving the hearth in the morning, how he dropped a blanket over you the first night, and said, You'll freeze like that.

Of course, he thinks nothing of the fact that he's the reason why you're naked. Blind to it or willfully ignorant.

"It's just you and me now. I'll take care of you, Shy."

Shy. That isn't your name. But you'll be dead before you give your real one to him. At least something will remain yours.

You look at him. He is a big man. Broad shoulders and palms. Thick, hairy arms and a barrel chest. You've seen the thing between his legs—he's made no efforts to hide himself or alter his routine with you hiding in the corner. He touches himself in the dark when he thinks you're sleeping.

He could break you easily. But he hasn't.

Not yet.

He brushes his knuckles over your cheek.

"Can't believe I found you," he says. "A pretty wife, fished from the lake. Or the sky, I suppose." He smiles, chuckling as if you're both in on the joke. "Mm. Wife." He presses his thumb to your bottom lip. "Yeah, like the sound of that. I'll make you a proper wife."

The way he says it is careful. Thoughtful. It is a promise, or a threat. You cannot tell which. 

You look at the chest.

You look at John.

And you do not answer.

John returns at dusk, the door creaking wide to let in the last slant of daylight, and finds you trussed up where he left you. Your wrists are raw, delicate skin rubbed angry beneath the ropes that tightened with your struggling. 

His shadow spills over you, and a sigh slips from him, edged with disappointment. He crouches. Fingers press into your skin, prodding where the rope bit deepest.

"Damn near hurt yourself, honey," he scolds, massaging the worst of the raw spots. He touches you in the way you've seen him care for his axe. Slow, reverent, making sure nothing is too damaged. Unusable. 

A hand settles over the soft, feathery patch above your rump, fingers carding through it appreciatively, lingering before he unravels the last knot. He ignores your hissing.

The moment you're free, you scramble away, body aching. You tuck yourself behind his chair, peeking out with sharp, distrustful eyes. He lets you go, lets you think you've won some small mercy. 

Then he turns his back, shaking out his coat, unpacking the sack he carried in, setting out each item on the table. Dull, practical offerings—salt, flour, needles, twine. Things for a life you don't want. Things for a home you will never call yours. And last, draped over his forearm, a dress. Mundane. Plain, homespun, the color of stone.

But you are distracted. Staring at the chest.

He only addresses your fixation when he's finished, and hauls it out from under the bed. 

"Take a look."

You do. You don't want to, but you do. Your gaze flicks to him first, wary, waiting for the trap. You open it, and your stomach drops.

Your head snaps up, stuttering, eyes glossing over with hot, helpless rage. 

His smile stretches, knowing. Then, he produces the last item from his trip and draws a bundle from the sack.

He explains it's the reason why he's later than expected. A special order that took hours and a bit of coin, but was well worth it. The seamstress did fine work.

Isn't it pretty?

See the little wing pattern she stitched in?

They're the only wings you'll have now.

He holds it out, delicate feathers and lace draping over his hand, the ruined remnants of your freedom reshaped into something grotesque. A wedding veil.

"Try it on for me, darling," he murmurs, offering it with one hand and adjusting himself with the other. "Let me see my bride."

[cowgirlvi]

mdni, sub bottom vi, fem top reader, strap-on usage, doggystyle, vaginal sex, squirting

wc 1,184

thinking about fucking vi from behind with your strap. it’s light pink and glittery (and vi scoffed when she first saw it all those months ago). now all she can do is lay there and take it, her face buried in your pillows while she moans gutturally and desperate. 

you admire the way her plush ass bounces against your abdomen with every thrust, you like the way it feels when it slaps against your hips. her ass is red from your constant rough groping— which vi always pretends she hates, but you know she likes it when you give her ass attention, when you squeeze the round muscles and then deliver a hard smack to each of them.

your manicured nails lightly trace down her back, following the lines of her tattoo, making her shiver and her muscles jump. she clenches around your strap hard involuntarily, her shiny cream coating the length. you almost drool at the sight.

“r-right there, babe— ah!”

“yeah? you like it like that, vi? it’s so, mmf, deep inside you, isn’t it?”

vi moans in agreement, her nails clawing at your bedsheets. she’s so cockdrunk it’s making her dumb, making her brain turn to mush. she can hardly respond, her tongue feels heavy and numb in her mouth.

”so d-deep, ‘can feel it in my— in my throat,” vi cries out, trembling as her hole is filled to the brim. 

the force of your thrusts rock the bed, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful drive of your hips. you’re fucking into vi with reckless abandon; no one has ever fucked her like this before. like they’re trying to overpower her, to consume her.

you always enjoy the sudden contrast; how vi likes to act tough and scary in public, but when she has her hole stuffed she turns into a whiny puppy. it amuses you that people assume vi is the one who fucks you, that she’s the one to turn you into a dumb slut, but in reality it’s the opposite.

(you like to tease her about it too, saying, “you gonna stuff me with your cock tonight, vi? gonna fuck my pussy?” and she flushes because she knows it’s her who will be taking your cock).

your hips piston faster and you’re fucking into vi with wild, animalistic fervor, spurred on by the desperate, needy sounds leaving her lips and the view of her ass bouncing and rippling. she can feel every ridge and vein of the strap against her walls, rubbing against all the spots that overwhelm her in the best ways possible.

“fuckk, i can’t get enough of this pussy,” you mumble distractedly, delivering multiple slaps in quick successions to both of vi’s asscheeks. 

you abruptly slam inside her to the hilt and pause, the silicone balls of your strap pressed tightly against her sensitive clit. vi’s entire body shudders.

“guh!” she chokes out as you grind deeply against her. you can feel vi trembling beneath you, her skin erupting in goosebumps. her head falls back as she surrenders to the sensation.

you laugh cruelly, “you’re being so loud, vi. do you want my neighbors to hear you getting fucked? do you want them to know how much you love having your little hole filled?”

the back of vi‘s neck flushes a pretty pink. she’s suddenly acutely aware of the thin walls of your apartment, the way sound carries in close quarters. she knows you’re just teasing but she still feels embarrassed by her loudness. vi’s never been with someone so brazen before, so unapologetically attracted to everything about her; her body, her noises— so determined to make her feel good. it’s intoxicating, it’s addictive.

still, vi replies defiantly, “don’t make— ahh! don’t make fun of me.”

your hands grip vi’s waist tighter, grinding against her harder, determined to get as deep as you can. the stimulation is intense, edging on too much, as vi feels your strap pressing against her cervix while the silicone balls rub against her clit. a low, guttural moan escapes her lips.

“i was just making an observation, sweetheart,” you say, your lip caught between your teeth as you feel the strap rub against your clit. “i know you like it when i talk about your cunt, anyway.”

vi manages to have enough awareness to scoff, despite the fact that she’s drunk on the feeling of you inside her. “i don’t.”

“oh really? then why do you get louder? why does your pussy get wetter like she knows i’m talking about her?”

you stop grinding against her, in favor of pulling out to the tip and fucking your entire cock back into her.

vi grunts, “mmffuck!”

you laugh under your breath, “got nothing to say, huh? you know i’m right.”

your hands grip her waist, fingers sinking into her soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises. you piston your hips forward in one sharp thrust before setting an unbearably quick pace. the force of your thrusts make vi face-plant into your pillows, muffling her cries of pleasure. 

“fuck! you’re fucking me so hard!”

every thrust rattles her bones, shaking vi to her core. her juices are leaking down her thighs, glistening in the low light. every time you pull out, sticky strings of vi’s arousal connect to your strap. the sight is obscene, it’s unbelievably erotic, and it’s a testament to just how badly vi needs to be fucked, how bad she needs her little hole filled by you, how desperately she craves the feeling of being used.

”i— i can’t take it— oh shit, baby, please—“

vi’s close, you can hear it in her voice and see it in the way her thighs tremble, needing to escape the intense pleasure.

you coo at her as your fingers find her clit, rubbing and stroking the little gem in tight, deliberate circles. vi is more sensitive on the left side of her clit, so that’s the spot you aim for. 

the added stimulation is almost too much for her to bear. your fingers and strap are sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through her body until she’s writhing and bucking beneath you, unable to decide if she wants more or if it’s too much for her to handle.

“come on, baby, you can do it. come on my cock— ahh— show me how much you it like when i fill you up.”

vi’s back arches, her spine bowed like a cat as her orgasm crashes through her. she sobs into your pillows, clutching onto them like a lifeline. a scream tears from her throat, raw and guttural and full of ecstasy. 

vi’s pussy clamps down around your cock so hard that it’s almost difficult to move. you wish you could feel the powerful contractions of her sweet pussy when you make her come. her juices gush out around the toy, soaking your bedsheets and abdomen.

”oh god, fuck! ahhh! baby, baby!”

you don’t think you’ve ever seen vi come so hard in your life.

[sai-int]

So, my favorite headcanon for Simon Riley is that he's an incredibly silly guy, but through trauma and shit, the only way he can express his silliness is subtly like with his shitty jokes and one liners.

All of this to say that I think he would have a great time mildly gaslighting his friends for pranks as well as occasionally doing something so out of character in a secluded area with the specific intention of getting caught, just so he can tell his victim that no one will believe them.

His most common victim is Johnny, and like Simon said, no one ever believes him.

THIS but it starts with johnny, then it spreads to the rest of the 141...

simon knows he’s the easiest target. the man is loud, expressive, reactive, which makes it so much worse when no one ever believes him. the gaslighting starts small. missing gear, things moving an inch to the left when johnny swears he just put them down, ghost walking into a room seconds after soap saw him leave it.

soap: "ye were just here-"

ghost: "no, i wasn’t."

soap: "ye-"

ghost: "y'sure y'sleepin' enough, sergeant?"

but then simon gets bored and starts pulling bigger stunts. like the time johnny walks into price's office looking for something and catches simon, full tac gear, standing on top of price’s desk, balancing on one foot, arms outstretched like he’s doing some kind of weird fucking yoga pose.

"steamin' jesus-what the fuck- the desk??"

simon just turns his head slowly to look at him, holds eye contact for a long moment, then-

"what desk?"

-before stepping down and leaving without another word.

johnny tries to tell price.

soap: "he was on yer desk-"

price: "uh-huh."

soap: "just stood there, like a fuckin' bird-"

price: "right."

soap: "ye dinnae believe me."

price: "not even a little."

ghost: "sounds like a you problem, mate."

next, it’s gaz. and simon takes an entirely different approach with him. gaz is logical, grounded, harder to mess with, but simon finds the perfect way.

he mirrors him.

gaz reaches for his coffee? simon reaches at the same time, like he was waiting for it.

gaz crosses his arms? simon crosses his arms, same angle, same stance, eyes locked dead on him.

gaz starts to say something? simon says the same thing moments later, like some kind of demonic mime act.

it gets so bad that one day, gaz just snaps.

gaz: "WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?"

ghost: "dunno what you mean, mate."

but price? price takes the longest to crack.

because simon knows that man is unshakable. he knows it’ll take something subtle, something long-term.

so he starts misquoting things.

price: "all due respect, i've been running ops since before you were born-"

ghost: "no, yeah, i get it. 'live, laugh, love,' an' all that."

price: "…what."

or:

price: "we’re not outta the woods yet-"

ghost: "yeah, yeah. "an apple a day keeps the wolves in the henhouse."

price: "that’s- no. what? that’s not-"

it takes weeks. weeks of price catching simon slipping complete nonsense into casual conversation, weeks of simon saying it all with that flat, deadpan expression. weeks of price trying to correct him-

price: "that’s not how the saying goes."

ghost: "yeah it is."

price: "no, it’s not-"

ghost: "okay, boss."

-and never getting anywhere.

until finally, one day, price just exhales hard, pinches the bridge of his nose, and mutters,

price: "i fucking hate you."

ghost? just shrugs.

"s'all water under the fridge, cap."

[neoraso]

bf things with boynextdoor

03z + 04z

sungho

cooks for you without a second thought. wants his baby fed and even before you started dating he always made extra when he knew you were coming around

sticks up for you always. if he sees ANYONE mistreating or teasing you too much he makes sure to end it there.

thinks you're THE funniest person alive. laughs harder and smiles more when you're around

lots of dates (shopping, cafe, eating, museums,etc.) but also loves to just stay in, cook and watch movies with you, talking and cuddling, he serenades you sometimes playfully >_<

loves to play with your hair and hold your hands- so simple but its so endearing and special to him to feel the back of your hand or your fingers curled in his own.

riwoo

was literally so shy around you before you started dating, now you are the person he feels most at home with. he doesn’t say it all the time but it shows when he’s around other people

carries your bags for you, holds your drink, etc. with no hesitance- even if someone points it out

is quite observant about your moods, habits, likes and dislikes. prides himself on knowing things about you no one else seems to care about-especially when he pulls out the most thoughtful gifts that leave you floored

feels a sense of responsibility for your care and overall wellbeing, but also feels incredibly comforted and safe with you

loves to share food and treats with you, all the time but especially when you look like you need a pick me up

jaehyun

he tries to not hang off of you like a backpack but fails within an hour and especially at night

everyone he introduces you to, coworkers, family members, friends, etc., all act like they know you from how much he talks about you. he thinks the world of you and loves to brag

every time he sees you it's like you've been gone for 6 years, even if it's only been a day; hugs so tight and gives 1 billion kisses, coos at you

an obvious mention: cute aggression that occurs so often it might be like a chronic affliction... srsly... kisses your face and head with a surprising amount of force and ur literally js sitting there, minding ur business

he elevates you. he's a great guy who you know deserves the world and it makes you want to live up to that. he feels the same about you and you guys encourage each other to be your best selves.

taesan

loves to have matching items with you (will spend hours customizing shoes or hats for you both)

loves days in where u just listen to whatever records you picked up the last time he brought you to the shop and lay there or slow dance around

lovessss meaningful gifts and gestures. will buy or make you snacks when you’re stressed or just bc would steal the moon for you if you asked

thinks everything you do is so cute and perfect and wonderful. literally so biased he will choose you to win over anyone

likes to pick you up from work or school even if its just to walk to the bus stop together and ride home (greatest protector award goes to…!!!)

leehan

your rock. soothes all your worries no matter how silly they seem. says really profound things like they're simple and- you guess they are when he’s around.

treats you oh so softly; tucks your hair behind your ears, pulls you into a hug like you're glass

nothing is embarrassing to him, he will wash your hair, shave your legs, brush your teeth for you. just ask and he’s there

likes when you sit with him while he watches his fishies,, you dont even have to be watching too but he feels so content with both of his favorite things to be around

the type where if you fall asleep on the couch instead of moving you, he'll just slip next to you to sleep too <<33

[voidsuites]

MULTI BOT RELEASE !!! (1/31/25) ⌢ ✨ .ᐟ

art donaldson ・゜゜・．noid. tennis has given art everything anyone could ever want— a fulfilling career, you and lily, and countless influential titles and wins— and with him getting closer to becoming a household name, art’s more than aware of his luck. he’s beyond grateful. however, fame’s a double-edged sword and it’s getting harder to both play into the paparazzi and their mind-games and also protect his family, so it’s not a surprise that art loses his temper when those lines finally get crossed. (based off “noid” by tyler the creator!)

bruce wayne・゜゜・．billie bossa nova. underneath all the sneaking around hotel rooms and charity galas, both you and bruce long to be understood for more than just your family names and your money. whatever’s going on between the two of you is merely putting a band-aid on a niger issue, you’re aware, but there’s something about bruce that helps you rationalize the less-than-ideal circumstances. a lot can change in twenty seconds… a lot can happen in the dark. (based off “billie bossa nova” by billie eilish!)

jim hopper ・゜゜・．you’re a fighter. in one moment, all hop had to worry about was you slowly growing more independent and mike wheeler’s insufferable attitude, but now the mind flayer’s set its sights on you and you’ve seemingly lost your powers. setting the mess with the russians beneath starcourt mall aside, hopper’s main priority is making sure you’re safe and away from any more danger. you may be a fighter, but you’re his kid first. (based off “you’re a fighter” by kyle dixon and michael stein!)

joel miller ・゜゜・．western nights. joel knows you’re not supportive of the violent ways he provides for you, but in a post-apocalyptic world morals are put on the back burner while he concerns himself with keeping you both fed, housed, and taken care of. you’re stubborn, he’s stubborn, but you’d never think of taking off and leaving him behind. this time’s no different. (based off “western nights” by ethel cain!)

patrick zweig ・゜゜・．part of your world. mermaids were nothing but a mere children's bedtime story— they weren't real. that’s what patrick’s father had told him since he'd been a boy; that the wondrous creatures he believed in with all his heart were nothing but tall tales meant to put the children of new rochelle to bed with little fight. that’s proven to be false when you rescue him from swimming with the fishes for eternity, and now that he knows your kind is real, patrick just has to learn more. he’ll bring you as many human trinkets for your collection as you’d like if you’d let him be part of your world for a moment. (based off “part of your world” by jodi benson and disney!)

tashi duncan ・゜゜・．bodyguard. wlw. tashi’s always been protective of you since you started seeing each other, but it’s always amusing to see just how worked-up she gets when you’re the center of attention. stanford’s hosting a concert in the park, art and patrick are nowhere to be found, and tashi’s left to keep herself in control lest she “accidentally” scare people off because they’ve looked at you too long. she’ll protect you in the mosh pit, no doubt— but she’s still working on keeping that territorial nature of hers in check. (based off “bodyguard” by beyoncé!)

got a request? go ahead and leave em here :) THANK YOU GUYS SO SO MUCH FOR FOR 10.4K! so excited to get started on my celebration requests— you guys once again are the BEST!!!! i hope all of these are to your liking… but do forgive me if joel is a little too ooc lol i’ve only seen bits of tlou but i tried to capture him right. hehe. i also made a tumblr community for all things voidsuites-oriented 🤭 join yap city if you dare (i’m still figuring out what i’ll post on there but think of it as a communal close friends story on ig haha) anyways i love these characters and i love these songs and i love you all!!!! thank you for making this so much fun for me i’m so grateful <3

[visenyaism]

Maryland is a fuckass New England state that pretends it's part of the south just because it was racist enough to leave the country 200 years ago

I don’t know what part of the American education system did wrong by you. This is both geographically and historically illiterate, but it’s pissing me off to imagine someone wandering around the world being this wrong presumably about the country they themselves live in so I’m going to explain it to you.

1: New England is way further north than Maryland. New England is Yankeeland, like settled by the Pilgrims and Puritans, currently inhabited by wasps, the Irish, libertarians, lesbian bed and breakfasts, and cops. Boston. Nothing south of New York City is New England.

Maryland historically was a southern state. They practiced slavery like the rest of the south, they were south of the Mason-Dixon Line (the first system of categorizing what was and wasn’t the south), and parts of the US government still considers them part of the South today. Look, here is the map of regions and divisions within the United States that the census bureau keeps. See how far apart Maryland and New England are.

However, despite historically (and sometimes bureaucratically) being a southern state, Maryland is very much a cultural part of the mid-Atlantic region today. They join Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York in that category. Some western Marylanders might identify as Appalachian if they live in the mountains, and some older Marylanders might still say they’re southern, but you will not find that many people fighting for Maryland’s inclusion in the south. 

2. Maryland did not secede and join the Confederacy during the Civil War. They still did slavery- two of the most famous Black abolitionists, Frederick Douglass and Harriet Tubman both had to escape Maryland because they were born into slavery there- but Maryland was a Union border state. Abraham Lincoln very notably kind of violated the constitution to suspend habeas corpus, which is your right to not be held in jail indefinitely without being charged with a specific crime. He suspended that right partially so that he could throw as many pro-Confederate Marylanders in prison as possible and keep them there to make sure Maryland stayed in the Union, which was of critical importance because if they left the American capital, DC, would be surrounded. A Marylander DID kill Abraham Lincoln so maybe he should have oppressed them harder. However his plan did work. They never seceded.

[sukunasluvrr]

Nerd Gojo who was an absolute simp for you. The poor man so badly wanted to get his hands on you in some way, but he knew he wouldn’t have a chance. You were way out of his league. You, the popular girl who hung around people like Sukuna and Kenjaku and were always present in frat parties. Often ending up with a pillow between his legs and humping the poor fabric like a desperate dog while whimpering your name over and over again, leaving the sheet soiled with his sticky sperm and a hint of shame in his actions, how did he end up this down bad for you?? Nobody knew.

He’d often help you out with your studies and tests, often doing them for you after you bat your lashes prettily at him and asked him real nicely. It really didn’t take much to convince him, looking at you with puppy eyes and his glasses that sat so adorably on the bridge of his nose as he nods and mutters „of course..“ under his breath. But he couldn’t take it anymore, one day while you were in his dorm, him helping you with a project- he couldn’t help himself. He was already half hard because of your tits being in his sight and the smell of your perfume that invaded his senses. Looking at you with his usual puppy like stare as he took all the courage he had. “Can you… stay the night?” He asked almost in a hushed tone. You had to look twice to make sure you weren’t imagining this,

“You want me to stay the night?” You asked him, to make sure you didn’t just hear it wrong, but to your surprise, he nodded without hesitation, hands moving to your hips as he got onto his knees- actually begging for you

“Please… just give me this one night… I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, this night and the rest of our semesters… but I’m begging you, I just wanna feel you for once…“

He was so desperate… it was almost cute. And his offer was quite tempting, so you agreed and he practically grinned in excitement. Already pulling you to the bed and kissing over your skin in soft pecks, being so gentle with it, like you could break if he went to hard and rough on you. His hands big enough to cup both your breasts through your top as he started kneading the soft subtle flesh, small whimpers leaving him from the feeling as he made you lay back on his bed, straddling your hips and grinding lightly against you, feeling the imprint of his length pressing against you. He already felt big through the fabric and the man wasn’t even fully hard yet!! He was still gentle with you, constantly asking if you really want this to which you nodded and he kept going. Removing his glasses and putting them on the nightstand as he started undressing you, lips pressing against your neck. Getting your top and bra off with practiced ease, without even wasting another second his lips were kissing around your breasts, kissing the underside of one while the other was being teased by his hand, thumb circling around your nippe and lightly pinching it while his mouth worked on coating the other in his spit, tongue circling around it and softly sucking on it like he was worshipping your chest. Earning small sounds from your lips and your hand moving into his hair while he kept this up for a few minutes until you remembered his offer, softly pulling him off your chest

„You said you’ll let me do anything, right?“ your voice a little shaky and breathy from arousal, „and I wanna ride you, pretty“ and god you could see the wheels turning in his head as he made sense of your words. Hearts practically forming in his eyes as he nods eagerly, already sitting up to remove his clothes with shaky hands

„Yes!! Yes yes yes, anything for you“ the moment his clothes were off and he was left in his boxers with a obvious tent standing out, his hands were already on you again, your words seeming to having made him only 10 times more desperate and harder for you, pulling at your sweatpants to get them off of you and pulling you on top of him, eyebrows furrowed in a pathetic way and puppy eyes looking up at you

„do whatever you want to me… spit on me, use me like a stupid toy, I just want you… I need you“

His words so desperate and full of emotion as his hips started bucking up into yours, moaning at the stimulation to his sensitive clothed cock. Your hands finding way to to his chest for stability as you tried to get him to calm down, not even having gotten your panties off yet and the slick was smearing over your pussy lips almost uncomfortably

„ 'toru… calm down for a second, I’m not going anywhere“

You tried to reason with him, but your words went to blank ears while he kept grinding up against you, hands already starting to pull his boxers down and fingers pulling at the strings of your panties to get the flimsy fabric off your skin and get access to your sweet pussy, accidentally ripping the fabric and pulling it off, the moment he made eye contact with your glistened cunt he felt like he was in a dream, his movements stopping for once and hands parting your thighs a little more and pulling your closer to his hard and proud standing dick. Making you gasp for a second as you saw it, already knowing that the stretch would probably make your poor pussy remember him for the next few weeks. He of course noticed your stare, and he thought you were disappointed

„it’s not really that big… sorry to disa-„ the poor guy couldn’t even finish his words before you interrupted him

„NO! No, oh my god, you’re probably the biggest I’ve ever had“

And you could’ve sworn you saw a light twitch in his dick when he heard your words, a soft hint of red tinting his pale cheeks, watching as your hand moves around his cock to give a few pumps to it, watching and listening for his reactions while he gave the prettiest whimpers from himself, hips bucking into your hand for more, before he could get a word out, he watched you let a globe of spit drop onto his tip, making his lower stomach cave in a little from the sensation on his sensitive dick. Already starting to beg for more, eyes half lidded while he watched you tease his poor, already angry looking tip. Your hand smearing the salvia over his cock to lube him up a bit before you moved, hovering a little over him with your knees pressed into the mattress and your entrance teasing his tip, letting it slip in and out faintly but never truly sinking down on him, making him almost cry while he endured the sweet torture of your pussy. The feel of your slick hole against his sticky tip almost too much to bear, having spend weeks if not months imagining how it would feel while fisting his dick to the thought of you almost pathetically at night. And now he was so so close to getting what he wanted, to feeling the slick warm walls of your heat around his throbbing length. It took some encouragement to actually have you sink down on him, the stretch mean and making you hiss a little, earning a small look of concern from him, his hands moving to your hips and rubbing soft circles into your skin in an attempt to soothe you while you got used to the size of him inside of you. The moment you started moving your hips against him, he felt like he ascended to heaven. A small groan leaving him and head titling back into the pillows to focus on your hips working to bounce along his dick, not able to keep his own from thrusting up into you from below- weakly at first but picking up in pace and firmness the faster you got. His eyes fixated on your face to look at every crunch of your nose, brows and the part of your lips whole moans left your mouth, his moans and groans being heard along yours, as well as the undeniable sound of skin against skin and the soft squelches of your cunt working on his dick to milk his cum from him. His fingers still digging into your hips but not moving them to bring you out of rhythm. Each stroke of your warm cunt around his dick had his mouth gaping and slutty sounds escaping from it. Your slick already trickling down his length and coating his balls, surely leaving a mess on the sheets but neither of you cared when you were riding him so good. Trying to keep his eyes on you and watching your tits bounce, unable to resist but move his hands to cup the soft flesh and knead gently

„you’re so pretty sweetheart…“ he muttered under his breath, his voice sounding somewhat shaky along with his whines and moans of pleasure

„don’t wanna be without your pussy ever again… ngh- fuck…. Keep going“

It was embarrassing to say he got close already, having been hard ever since you were with him and being so needy for you he couldn’t control himself, a pathetic whine leaving and eyebrows furrowing as his eyes closed „mhhff…. I’m gonna cum…“ his words were barely heard by you, wing lost in your own world and almost in a trance while using his dick to get yourself off, but you weren’t gonna be cruel… how could you be cruel to the sweet, nerd guy, who collected comics and who actually knew something about female anatomy???

„Go on Baby… cum for me“ giving him the go ahead because you were close yourself. Working the both of you to the edge at the same time, moaning your name as he came with a thrust up into your cunt, hands pulling you down by your hips to keep your warm walls around his dick, feeling your inner walls throb around his spent cock while you came at the same time as him was even better, feeling like he was being killed by your tight heat- breath coming out in gasps and brain going blank. „Ohhh ffffucck“ was all he could mutter out, you still gave weak grinds of your hips against his, rising out your own pleasure before you came to a stop and slumped down against him, face against his chest and listening to his fast heartbeat. Keeping him seethed inside of you, too exhausted to have him pull out just yet. But.. to your shock, he was still hard. Barely even calmed down from his highs and already bucking into you again

„Mff, another round??“

[amoristt]

euclid

「 ✦kang dae-ho/reader ✦ 」 ・❥・he chokes you for the first time tags: smut MDNI // afab! reader, choking, pwp oneshot, unprotected, rough kinda?? for daeho's standards im sure

a/n: tiny little thang i had to to write bc i couldnt get this out of my head and its eating me alive !!!!!! word count: 1.2k

・❥・ you’re alive- perfect underneath him. a squirming, moaning, mess of a thing dragging your nails down the flexing muscles of his back and pressing your thighs to either side of his hips. warm and soft, every last part of you, down to your very DNA. built for him and the curve of his cock, eager to take it when he’s sliding against your gummy walls and finding the very essence of you against the tips of his fingers. he’s mapping out the shape of you, he’s finding every curve and every valley, remembering outline and the heave in your chest. nothing goes to waste. nothing goes unexplored, all appreciated, all a prayer from within the temple. 

Dae-ho is burning alive. every sound you make is fodder for the incineration he’s scorching in. the bed is creaking with the intensity how he takes you, the wooden frame knocking off the wall in thumps until he has to shush it- reaches up and grasping the frame until every knock is bouncing off his white knuckles. his other hand runs paths over your breast, your collarbone. grazes just below your jaw, and you’re already tilting your head back to bare it. 

the moment his grasp rests on your throat, you’re watching him through the thick fog in your eyes, equal parts lust and anticipation. pulse as quick as a rabbits- beat, beat, beating from underneath his broad hand. vibrating notes of fervor rumbling from your throat into your lips, into his waiting ears with every snap of his hips into yours. 

the clutch of your jugular in his hold does not come naturally to him. he lingers until you place your hand over his, puffy lower lip caught between your teeth in a hunger so true it flashes it’s great maws and swallows his whole right then, right there. he digs his fingers into that endless drum of blood pumping flush through your body and then he sees it- the shift in you. excitement into gratification, eyes losing their focus. he loves when he can see himself within the mirrors of your pupils, but he can’t deny how he’s transfixed to watch you lose yourself. feeling, seeing, experiencing nothing except elated bliss. your legs wrap around his waist, heels driving into his lower back. 

you want this. by the look of you, you need this. evident when you clutch the top of his hand with your own and look up from heavy lashes and urge him to press harder, to squeeze tighter. he ruts into you and hit’s something good, something that makes you arch your back and toss your head into the pillow with a wailing cry on your lips. 

“please,” you manage, struggling to get anything out except wanton moans with the way he drives himself within you. your fingers twisting into the bedsheets, your legs shaking around him, there’s something like tension growing within his gut.

he hears the exact moment your breath cuts short around his grip. rough inhales bottlenecked into wheezes, chirpy mewls snuffed out into rasping gasps for air. you don’t leave the spotlight of his eyes, you never do, but more so now than ever. watches the way your eyes slip shut, feels the way your toes curl, shivers when he takes your smile. smiling, and constricting around his cock so much so that he feels like his own breath is trapping within the confines of his lungs. his knuckles have gone numb between the bedframe and the plaster wall, forgotten by the raging sea of your sex, all things loud and urgent, smearing over his thighs with every clap of his skin meeting yours. 

you’re gripping his biceps and his forearms and anywhere else you can get purchase on, nails digging into his skin in the most delightful of ways. he lets up his grip, listens to you suck in wet, rapid breaths before he traps it in your throat all over again. keens, cries, all rewards you sing for him strangled out. a rush of something infects his body and runs it’s course into the burrow of his brain- this sense of power that’s making him lose himself in your heat. the ability to choose when you breathe, when you don’t, watching you split apart at the seams until you’re nothing but red faced and drooling under his grasp. tightening around his shaft like a vice, begging to keep him there forever. he doesn’t realize you’re cumming until your walls are fluttering around him in waves of euphoria. he can damn near see the stars behind your eyes.

that tension in his belly is growing into something he can’t hold back, pleasure so palpable it could be touched, dragging all the composure out of his body. you’re still gripping him so fucking tight it’s making it hard to breathe, in the throes of your orgasm, unknowingly dragging him to the very edge of that precipice himself. he’s driving you up the bed, pressing you into the mattress with the weight of his body. 

he slams into you once, twice, three times, and then the festering tension within him breaks into this overwhelming wash of intoxicating bliss. finds the very depths of you and the thrill of your walls sucking him in when he can’t help but let go. it’s not his intention to bury himself sound against your cervix when he cums, but he does anyways, in thick spurts of pearly white that's filling you to the brim. his hand leaves your throat in favor of bracing himself on the pillow beside your head, and you suck in ragged breaths. he’d think you were pain if not for the dazed, lopsided grin on your face, spent and fucked.

properly satisfied.

it takes all the power in dae-ho’s body to not crush you when he collapses over your form. he’s leaning on his elbows, your legs still loose around his waist, panting in your neck. pulling out is his least favorite part of sex with you. it’s lonely outside of your body, too uncomfortably cold to bear at times. you don’t speak at first, nails idly dragging up and down his spine under goosebumps form in their wakes. 

“was that,” he has to collect himself, searching for the words. “...was that good?”

“that was amazing, yeah.” you giggle at the waver in his tone and place a chaste kiss to his shoulder. your voice is honey sweet in his ears.

“i didnt hurt you?”

“stop worrying about that. you wont hurt me.”

“i always worry.” 

“i know.”

your fingers are dancing through his hair, melts all else away except for you. his lips find your neck, placing kisses to the sore skin, as if apologizing to the very marks themselves before he rolls to his side. 

Not a second goes by wasted before he’s wrapping his arms around your form, yearning for that warmth to be all over him once more. he pulls your back against his broad chest and buries his face in your hair, and you, you mold into him seamlessly, two conjoined souls, lost on where one ends and the other begins.

[ur-local-wizard]

I love the way you write baby, can you honour me with this prompt idea: Mattheo Riddle loses a Quidditch match against his biggest rival, and his anger boils over. Dragging his girlfriend into the locker room, he takes out his frustration on her in a heated, rough moment of intimacy. Afterward, he leaves her shaken to vent elsewhere, but when he returns, he finds her being comforted by his rival. Jealousy and fury take over as he drags her away, scolding her and accusing her of betrayal—though beneath his anger is a fear he’s not ready to admit: that he might’ve pushed her too far this time.

Losing Game

tysm for the request babes!! this was sooo creative! hope you enjoy, it was my first time writing angst 🤭

mattheo riddle x fem!reader, extremely toxic behavior, mentions of sex, characters are of age, i think that's it

w/c: 1106

masterlist

a/n: if there are any tags I missed, pls pls pls let me know!! also, I wasn't sure if i should label it nsfw in my masterlist or not, so if you think it should be tell me and I'll change it!

Angry sex with Mattheo was something you were used to, especially after he lost a quidditch game. Everyone knew he had a temper, and even as his girlfriend, you were not immune to it. But he’s never been so hurtful. Not like this. 

The physical part of it was good, as per usual, but his words struck a deeper chord than normal. The names he called you, the blatant disregard for your feelings, the way his touch felt oppressive instead of loving – it was strange, and honestly overwhelming. 

So that’s how you got here, curled up in the fetal position just outside the quidditch locker room. You barely noticed the muffled sound of footsteps approaching you on the grass. Blinking back more tears, you look up, not expecting to see the Gryffindor Cormac McLaggen of all people. He was one of many on the long list of people Mattheo hated most, and you knew that if your boyfriend saw him of all people in his current tempered state, someone would end up in the hospital wing. 

“You okay?” Cormac asked, crouching in front of you. His tone was softer than you would expect, laced with nothing short of concern and pity. He reached out, and you flinched as his hand brushed your arm. “You’re freezing. Come, let’s get you inside. I don’t want you to contract hypothermia.” 

The warmth of his hand sent a wave of guilt through you, and the combination of your confusion and his touch made you flinch away. He’s right – it’s so cold your fingers are going numb. You weren’t sure if it was the weight of your emotions, your exhaustion, or the sheer cold, but you felt your defenses crumble, allowing him to pull you up and off the ground.

Then the locker room door opened. 

Out walked Mattheo, his presence looming over you like a shadow. His hair was disheveled, his jaw set like stone. His gaze flicked between you and Cormac, his eyes burning with fury. 

“What the fuck is going on here?” He snapped, his voice low and full of nothing but rage and resentment. You opened your mouth to speak, but he roughly grabbed your wrist and pulled you to his side, effectively cutting you off. Your stomach churned, and the emotions swirling inside your gut made you want to puke. 

“You think this is okay?” He scolded you, his gaze narrowing into a glare. “The hell are you doing with this piece of shit?” He motioned to Cormac, scoffing. “And you, what are you doing with my girlfriend?” 

“Mattheo, stop-” Your voice trembled as you began to talk, but the bitter laugh that escaped his lips cut you off. 

  “Don’t even try to explain,” he sneered, his grip so tightening so much it may leave a bruise. His expression was still angry, but something seemed off. Beneath the anger in his eyes, you saw a flicker of something else – something raw. Afraid, maybe. “I leave for five fucking minutes and come back to find you cozying up with Cormac fucking McLaggen.” 

His words hit harder than expected, making the nausea in your stomach only grow stronger. “You’re being ridiculous,” you said, voice quiet but filled with hurt. You pressed your lips together and fought the urge to cry again. 

“Ridiculous? You don’t get to decide that after this little stunt you just pulled.” 

Cormac crossed his arms over his chest, his expression solemn. “Maybe if you treated her better and paid attention to her obvious distress, she wouldn’t be crying out here in the cold,” he retorted. 

The room seemed to freeze at his words. Mattheo’s head snapped toward Cormac, his eyes dark and burning. The tension in the air was suffocating, a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Mattheo hissed.

“I know enough,” Cormac shot back, unwavering. “I know she shouldn’t be out here like this. She could get sick!”  

Mattheo’s jaw clenched so hard it looked like his teeth could grind together into dust. For a moment, it looked like he was going to punch Cormac – he certainly wanted to – and the suspense made you even dizzier than before. But instead, he turned his glare back to you. “Get up. Let’s go.” It wasn’t a question, and you could tell by the tone of his voice it was more of an ultimatum. Stay here, and you would lose him. 

You hesitated, jaw opening and closing, unsure what to say. You didn’t want to fight. Not again. Not when your body already ached from more than just the physicality of what had just conspired in the locker room. So, even after all the hurt he’s caused, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him. He just looked so betrayed, so afraid. 

“Okay,” you conceded, voice barely a whisper. Cormac scoffed, but you didn’t dare look his way as your boyfriend grabbed your wrist again and led you away, his footsteps crushing the grass beneath his feet. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm – as if he was afraid that if he let go, you’d disappear. 

The journey was silent as he dragged you to an empty corridor. The moment the two of you were alone, he spun to face you, his chest rising and falling rapidly with labored breaths. 

“Don’t ever do that again,” he said. 

“Do what?” You asked, brows furrowing.

His fingers twitched at his sides, as if he was fighting the urge to reach for you. “Sitting with him. Letting him touch you. Letting him look at you like – like that.”

You stared at him, disbelief bubbling up past the lingering hurt. “Mattheo, do you even hear yourself? I was sitting there because of you. Because of what you did.”

He looked shocked, but that quickly faded as he realized what you were talking about. He lowered his eyes to the ground, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed his shame. He looked like he wanted to argue, to push back like he always did in situations like this, but something in his expression told you he knew he would finally lose you if he did. For the first time, he looked unsure. 

“Do you even care that you hurt me?” You asked, voice softer now, but still full of lingering hurt. In response, his whole body tensed. A long silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. Then, barely above a whisper, so low you almost missed it, he muttered, “I do.”

It wasn’t an apology – not yet. But you knew it was as close as you were going to get for now. 

Ty again for this request!! I had sm fun writing it! Sorry it took me so long to write, life and school is insane rn

taglist: @ilovejamespottersomuch @mattyriddlesbitch @valenftcrush @sturniolover13 @paankhaleyaaar @thereeallink @voidangxls

©ur-local-wizard translating, republishing, copying, or claiming my work as yours is not permitted. all my work belongs to me and me only. thank you!

[humpster35]

Matt, Please

This smut includes: unprotected rough sex, pussy eating, angst, loss of virginity, daddy kink, asshole Matt (if you squint) slight baby trapping and praising.

It was a late night, nothing was like this feeling i’ve felt in this moment. Matt and I have been together for awhile now and we haven’t had sex. “Matt….why are you doing that?” I laughed watching as Matt fixed his desk rapidly, he moved in a funny way. “I’m trying to make this aesthetic for you, I know you like when things are neat and pleasing to look at. I mean(he poses showing a cheeky smile) you ARE dating me.” This asshole. I thought as I shook my head. The bed creaked as he sat down, he wore a black shirt, sweatpants, a necklace and his hair was left messily hot after gaming all day. “Matthew you ARE quite sexy…maybe I should reward you.” I shrugged while smiling.

Silence. It filled the room up as if it could envelop me whole and leave nothing behind. Oh shit…I was a virgin wasn’t i? “Matt wait i’m sorry i-“ He got up quickly. “Why do you have to do that Y/n? We haven’t fucked ever. You keep teasing me but whenever it’s time to actually do something about it you bail on me.” “I don’t bail on you- I just..I just” “Can’t commit to anything?” Feeling insulted by his words I get up and begin removing my top. I’ve always been the more naive one of the group, being friends with the triplets and moving to La to film with them i’ve come across a lot of much more experienced people. It’s silly i know but, in my head I though that if i didn’t tell Matt about my virginity then things would just remain the same between us…after all guys do act differently once they find out. I looked at Matt when my top completely comes off, my white lace bra visible. You’re not like that…are you Matt? “What are you just standing there for? Why even remove your shirt if we’re just gonna cuddle?” Matt shrugged as he laud down on the bed and rested his arms behind his head. “I wanna—no I can do it. I’ll have sex with you.”

Matt stared at my face intently, was he studying me? He stood up and took off his black shirt. I watched as his tattoos were painted on his left arm…he was so fucking hot. “We gonna fuck hm?” Matt said mockingly. “If i’m gonna fuck you then i’m gonna need you to promise me something.” Puzzled my face looked up at him while he grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to his body, it felt as if any closer and we would become one. “Matt don’t be a dick okay? I said we can have sex so stop mocking me.” He chuckled. “Promise me you won’t make any noise.” Confused I looked at him before getting close to his face and kissing him. “I….I promise.” Matt chuckled and tucked of strand behind my ear. “I’m not mocking you darling..hm? I just wanted this for awhile now…are you sure you’re ready?” I moaned softly as his soft pink lips placed butterfly kisses along my jawline to my neck, his hand roamed further down to my crotch. “it feels good Matt…can i have more?” Matt chuckled a bit as he lifted his head up, staring into my eyes he smiled before kissing my plump lips. “Come on, let me take care of you.” He lifted me up by my waist making me throw legs around him. “Let daddy take care of you hm?” “O-okay daddy.” I watched as Matt started laughing, his face turning red. “Why’d you say it like that? Are you embarrassed?” “Shutup I am not embarrassed-.” “I think you are(Matt laughed even harder into my shoulder while he stood between my legs.) Have you not called anyone daddy before?” I shook my head no embarrassed. “Awww shhh shh it’s okay baby…you don’t have to ever be embarrassed mmkay?” Matt pulled my pants off slowly, I studied his actions anxiously. Next was my underwear, he slid those to the side before he stopped and looked at me. “Daddy will always take care of you.”

Matt pull his dick out of his boxers. “Woah.” was all I could say as I watched the long and slightly dick bounce against his chest for a second due to Matt’s sudden movement. “Woah?” Matt laughed, he started stroking himself while looking down at my pussy. “Yea…Yeaaaaa that’ll do hm?” I moaned softly feeling him rub his tip on my clit. Before I could even warn Matt that I was a virgin he slammed into me causing me to moan loudly and grip his shoulders. “fuckkkkk ouhhhhh shit you’re fucking tight.” Matt moaned while he let go of his dick and rested his hands on my hips getting ready to fuck me. “m-matt wa-wait…mmmm” I couldn’t get out any words due to his size and pain. It hurt but felt good, i’ve had his fingers inside of me before but this. This was much different, more bigger and much deeper. THRUST THRUST THRUST THRUST THRUST. Back to back Matt was fucking me hard on his gaming desk, I watched him with half open eyelids throwing my head back. “ah ah ahhhhhhh Mattyyyy please I can’t..” “hm? speak up.” Matt was so arrogant at times, even now that he’s fucking me he wants to taunt me. I gripped his shoulders hard causing him to bleed. Matt started fucking into me extremely rough and hard as he gripped my ass for support. “MATTTTTTT AHHHHHHHH” “FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKKKKKK OH FUCKING FUCKKK.” Matt screamed in ecstasy as he bit his lip hard. “mmm ouhhh yeaaaa baby fuckkkk right there for daddy yes yes yes yes.” My tits bounced aggressively through my bra while i struggled to breathe at this point. This man doesn’t even know im a virgin and he’s fucking me like he hates me. “Matt wait-.” Matt kisses my lips and pulls me closer to his body, in one fast swoop he lifts me off of his desk and transfers me to his bed. “Ah!” “M’gonna fuck you here now baby.”

Without warning Matt again inserted himself into me. This time i had something to hold onto before he started pounding, I grabbed his bedsheets while he threw his head back. “Fuck I haven’t pussy in awhile…” I bit down hard on my teeth trying to hold in any sound I was making. Clearly Matt also forgot about his so called “promise” because once he lifted my legs on his shoulders to get a deeper angle he started moaning loudly. “AHHHH OHHHHH Y/N Y/N IM SO FUCKINF CLOSE…i’m so close imsoclose imclose.” THRUST THRUSTTHRUSTTHRUST. I let out mewls and mewls of moans loudly as Matt started biting my neck slightly, every move he made I felt him knock my cervix back by like two inches. It was so painful…but it hurt so good. “Matt wait..pleasepleaseplease wait-.” “Shut. THRUST. the. THRUST. fuck. THRUST up.” THRUST. My legs started shaking around his shoulders, the bed creaked loudly and he was pounding into me so hard that I felt myself being pushed into the back of the headboard. “M’gonna cummmmmm” “ahhhhouuhhh yes yes baby i’m gonna fucking cum in you.” What. Did he just say he was gonna cum in me-.

I felt Matt’s long fingers begin to rapidly rub my clit, he stopped for a moment and stuck them into my mouth. “Spit on it bitch.” He angrily said and I immediately did what he asked, he took his fingers out of my mouth and begin to rub my pussy again. “OHHHH FUCKKK. MATT aahhhhhhhh-.” “yeaaaaa let’s fucking cum hm? wanna cum together? you wanted to have real sex well here you go—.” Matt made me cum instantly with his aggressive tone and his long fingers, My legs continued to shake while he pounded deeply into me and he didn’t stop rubbing my pussy. “S-stop please…” My small hand tried to push his much larger one away weakly due to my body being spent. It was getting overwhelming and overstimulating. “Matt, Please.” He stopped and looked at me, “Okay. okay baby.” Matt gently kissed me before he hurried and started thrusting deeper to get his own orgasm. THRUST THRUST THRUST THRUST. “ohhhh i’m gonna cum..IM GONNA FUCKINF CUM IN YOU AHHHHH.” “NOOO AHHHHH.” We both let out loud screams of moans as Matt came deep inside of me. I tried to push at his chest to get him to pull out, “Matt please I don’t wanna be a momma.” Matt chuckled and shushed me. “Shhh shhh baby, it’s okay hm? daddy’s got you.” I started crying out of frustration and overstimulation while Matt gently kissed everywhere on my face and neck. “I fucking hate you Matt…..” Matt pulled out of me as his dick made a wet pop sound and I immediately closed my legs. “I know….but i’ll always love you.” My breath hitched as he wiped my tears, he picked me up and took me to the bathroom to clean me up.

tag list: @hjvi

[lexirosewrites]

for slick sunday:

Royal AU where Prince Edward has always been destined to be an omega, it’s “written in the stars” according to the seers in the castle. They’ve never been wrong, so everyone prepares for him to marry an alpha from another country when he’s of age. But he feels like they’re wrong, it feels wrong.

When he presents as an alpha, the entire castle, the entire village is shocked. His rut is much worse than any the healers have seen, and he’s becoming more aggressive the longer he goes without an omega to help him through.

Cue his childhood best friend Steve, who left the village for a while when he presented as an omega unexpectedly, finding out. He hasn’t seen Eddie in a few years, but he knows what he has to do.

The moment he shows up, Eddie calms. It’s like a switch is flipped and Eddie falls to his knees, buries his face against Steve’s hip, and whines. Steve brushes his hand through his hair and whispers as much comfort as he can while he shoos everyone from the room.

It’s a long two days, but Steve helps Eddie through his rut, does anything that Eddie needs. Eddie is good to him, softer than he expected. He’s still very out of it, but he’s always nudging Steve to drink water and lay down so he’s comfortable. He goes slow, even when Steve knows how much he wants to take charge, go faster, go harder.

When it passes, Steve’s prepared to leave. He did what he came to do and doesn’t expect Eddie to want him to stick around. They aren’t friends anymore, even though Steve will always love Eddie for seeing the real him, the version of him that Steve hid around others because it was too soft, too loving, too much.

But Eddie asks him to stay, have the healers look him over to make sure he’s not hurt. Steve insists he’s fine, but Eddie insists harder.

Steve stays.

And stays.

And he doesn’t leave Eddie’s side for weeks.

No one asks questions, they just accept that the prince won’t let Steve out of his sight.

When Steve misses his next heat, he feels like running. They aren’t mates, despite how inseparable they are, despite the love shared in Eddie’s bed nearly every night. A baby born out of wedlock, out of a bond, even in their case, would be considered illegitimate.

But when he tells Eddie his fears, Eddie’s ecstatic.

They meet with Wayne immediately, and he’s just as ecstatic as Eddie is.

“I worried when he presented as an alpha instead, that we’d spend years searching for a worthy omega. But I think I should be more worried that he isn’t worthy enough of you.”

They bond days later, and have a marriage ceremony shortly after that.

One night shortly before their baby is born, Eddie is holding Steve in bed, humming songs he’s made up just for him.

“I believe I was always meant to be your alpha.”

“The stars said differently.”

“Stars can be wrong. Fate is a mysterious thing.”

“So fate brought us here?”

“Fate brought you to me and I refused to give you back.”

“I’m glad you didn’t give me back. I quite like it here with you.”

omfg when you said Steve missed his heat my chest hurt because I thought he was gonna run away😭 I’m so glad they get to be happy together!!!

[alilobsessive]

The Terrible Crow

All your life you desired recognition from your father, well you got it! But not from your bio dad, things only grow worse from there. For the Bats, not for you.

All your life you have longed for one thing, you’re Father’s recognition. At first it was simple things, like getting good grades, school awards. Anything for him to tell you how good of a job you’re doing. When he brought in Dick that changed, the escalation was quick. If he could be Robin, if he could fight with your Father why couldn’t you? Eventually after years of begging he agreed, then not even a week later he took in Jason and he became the new Robin. Your Father told you it was because he was older then you, already making it safer for him to go then you. When you brought up the fact that you’re the same age as Dick when he started, your father countered that Dick already had years more training with his parents than you.

After that you reluctantly didn’t argue, scared of seeming like nothing more than a spoiled kid. Jason in you began training together, although the two of you grew a bond it never felt right. Everyone called you close and although you liked him a part of you was resentful. You’re Father was always tougher on your training then Dick or Jason, always finding a flaw no matter how long you practice. In a way it helped you perfect your skills to the last detail. But he never told you “good job” not like Dick or Jason, it was always moving right on to the next thing. After Jason’s death the training got worse, he was somehow harder and stricter than before. You went to bed sore with aching bones and bruises from training, if you went to bed at all that is. Sometimes your sleep schedule was what was being trained, he would make you stay up for days at I time, rarely doing anything more than a nap. He told you this was similar to the training he went through, that it would make you stronger.

You never got the chance to prove it though, not even a half a year since Jason died a new boy was brought in. Tim’s the same age as you, highly intelligent and good at stealth but completely untrained. “SO WHY IS HE ROBIN!” You screeched at the man you call Father, Tim stands there glaring at you. He has a red mark on his cheek from where you slapped him when you were told he would be Robin. You were instantly yelled at and reprimanded by your Father for this, which started this argument in the first place. “I HAVE TRAINED FOR MOST OF MY LIFE FOR THIS, I HAVE DONE ALMOST EVERYTHING YOU WANTED ME TO! I FOLLOWED YOUR ORDERS I DEDICATED MY LIFE TO THIS” You scream at him, tears filling your eyes and falling down your cheeks. He just stares at you, expression blank and unchanging “what made you think I’d ever make you Robin?” Is all he says. Freezing you just stare at him crushed. “You’re dismissed” you feel like he spits it out, he doesn’t but it feels like he does “don’t ever train here again, nor even think about being a vigilante” you’ve never felt so much rage and sorrow before. You turn around to leave pushing Tim to the ground as you do “you’re grounded!” He calls out. Without even looking back you flip him off “fuck you Bruce!”.

After that things were never the same, you never wanted to try at anything anymore. What was the point in constantly studying if it meant nothing? So you did whatever you wanted, there were barely any consequences. Bruce didn’t give a shit about you, he never truly did. Alfred always sided with Bruce, sure he called him out when he was in the wrong, but that rarely changed anything with you. Dick was as absent in your life as ever. Finally you and Tim’s relationship was shit, it would never recover, at least you didn’t care if it did or not.

Eventually though you stumbled across a niche that peaked your interest. It started small, quick one minute videos about animal biology you finished the nearly 10 year old channel's entire library of content in 2 days. Then it evolved into animal psychology and finally to humans, what made them tick. It was fascinating every last detail interested you, from the mating habits of raccoons to the study that showed most humans could pick out snakes in extremely pixelated and blurry images. Even the more questionable experiments that would never pass today, like the wire and cloth mothers, and the monster study. Things that would have been difficult to prove or research if it wasn’t for the unethicalness of it all. Hell, even the bullshit study with gorillas learning sign language was interesting, even if the whole thing was completely pointless and awfully mismanaged. It was just so interesting to learn about.

Then you stumbled across it, a familiar name, Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow. All his published studies were almost 2 decades old, but that didn’t stop how interesting they were. Both as a glimpse into the mind of a madman who long had his license revoked and as a study in how the mind understood fear in general. Sure you were made to memorize his habits, his usual schemes, hell you even helped reverse engineer and make a cure for several of his fear toxin strands. But you never learned about his studies, never learned about the person behind the mask. But now you wanted to, desperately, of course you couldn’t just go to Arkham. Bruce would learn about it and who knows what he would do once he learns of your little…. curiosity.

No, you didn’t want that, so you lied in wait for the perfect time. But while you did so you studied, falling back into old habits. Day and night you obsessively researched human psychology, several studies both bullshit and true. You memorized everything, dates, names, places, what effects they had, any changes or new revelations in the study, what they were studying and in some cases what they ended up actually studying. You even ended up dabbing deeper into chemistry. All of this to impress someone, but you enjoyed learning these things. All of this was fun, unlike dealing with Bruce.

Then finally the day came, Scarecrow broke out of Arkham. Using the skills Bruce ground into your brain you found him. It was pretty easy, you're shocked he didn’t find Scarecrow sooner. Of course you ended up captured, tied to a chair in one of his labs. Oh also a gun pointed at your head, neat! “What are you doing here?” Scarecrow says suspiciously, a wide grin forms on your face as you happily say “I want you to teach me!” The man just looked at you strangely. Then he laughed, “this isn’t a very funny joke kid” the man sneered at you. “But I’m not! I’ve read your work Mr. Crane! It’s absolutely fascinating! I want to learn more, especially about your newer unpublished stuff!” He just stares at you, “really?” He asks, pointing the gun down. Although he doesn’t look like he believes you, “then prove it” before you can even react the gun is back at your head and he shoots.

The bullet barely misses but you don’t move, don’t even flinch, you just smile. You know how manic you look, but you don’t care. Scarecrow just stares at you surprised, he completely lowered the gun and put it away. “Well..” he mumbles, “I guess I can give you a test” that made you feel nothing but pure glee.

The costume you were put in started out simple, a almost completely black suit with blue gloves and a mask vaguely resembling a plague doctor. You thought you looked like a rip off emperor's coven member but that’s not that important. As Crow as his apprentice you were first given grunt work, helping and leading his henchman in getting supplies for whatever project he was working on. That was when you weren’t doing homework, taking notes, organizing documents. The Bat’s were completely unaware of what you were doing, sure they knew you had something after school. The one time they asked you told them you got an internship. They didn’t even bother to verify if that was true or not. Alfred was the only one who even slightly cared and even then he was just proud that you finally found a calling away from the vigilante life. Boy was he only slightly correct.

Things started ramping up after you defeated Tim, Robin in combat. The pure smug joy you felt at that moment is indescribable. The rejected Robin, who's rusty, proving that they're stronger, faster, smarter, better than the current? You were so excited you almost went into hysterics, and the fear on his face as you brutally kicked his ass? Priceless! They didn’t even realize it was you, but Scarecrow did, he recognized how similar your fighting style are instantly. At first you were worried, scared even about what he’d do now that he knew. Truthfully he was suspicious at first, but once you told him your story, how you were rejected from being Robin in favor of the second and third. How cruel they were to you before and after, even said you would tell him the secret identities of the bat’s and everyone you know is affiliated with them. Both publicly and privately, although he rejected your offer he saw your desperation. How much you want, no needed to stay, to keep this. Scarecrow accepted your loyalty and at that moment you truly became Crow.

To commemorate this occasion you got an outfit change. It became more padded, the mask looking more like a helmet then anything, and boots that increase your height by several inches. You were also made to train in a different combat style with both the added height and change of vision it was a necessity. But also to help cover your tracks as Crow from the Bat’s. So you grow, you changed, you trained and trained and they never noticed. Not when you came back injured from work, with new bruises and scars. Not when you came home with gifts, or when you brought your assignments back with you. They were completely ignorant as Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, he became your family, your father.

Eventually though Bruce got suspicious, he never figured out who you were, not until much later. But he realized you're doing something shady, the man never put in the effort to figure out what exactly. So he sent you off to a college far from the city, of course he let you pick the field you wanted. It wasn’t too hard to figure out what to do, psychology was already your passion after all and you were being trained by the best. The only issue was Crow, how to excuse there absence. So faking an extreme injury a week before you left easily fixed that. Afterwards you packed up and went to school, a school you would never return from, not to the manor at least.

There you continued your studies, your training in all forms and your contacts with Scarecrow. The only real difficult thing was not getting caught in your less ethical studies. You spent from the age of 18 to 24 studying as much as possible in your field getting both a bachelor’s and master’s. The plan was to go for a PHD too, but sadly things were interrupted and you quickly returned home. Your dad, Scarecrow was extremely injured during a fight and was in the hospital. Someone needed to step up, that person was you.

This time your outfit changed once more, it made you look even bigger and bulkier then you were. A cloak with a feathered collar, iron gloves with clawed ends, the faceless bird helmet looking even more imposing. Everything in your power to make you look as menacing as possible, large and imposing, a night to rival the knight. As you were making your return known you discovered something interesting, a new Robin, a baby brother. Dispute your issue with your family something about this was exciting. You felt so happy and you didn’t know why, but the fact he’s a Robin? Well, the kid needed to be taught a very important lesson before he learned it the hard way.

It wasn’t hard leading him to Wayne tower by himself. Kid had the skills but no discipline, reckless and willing to do anything to prove himself worthy. You can relate, which is way it has to be you who dose this. You approach the 10 year old boy from the shadows “you came alone hatchling?” You say in a soft voice. He jumps away and wipes his head around to face you eyes wide, he pulls out his sword and points it at you. “How-“ “a magician never reveals there secrets” you say playfully “now put the sword down baby bird” he doesn’t just glares at you. He then lunges forward aiming for your throat, but it wasn’t hard to grab the blade and rip it from his hand. He stares at you wide eyed as you throw it to the other side of the building, he quickly reorganize himself and throw a punch. But you dodge it, each kick and punch he sent was easily avoided.

As he moved to kick your head you grabbed his leg, and pulled him away. “You know” you begin walking to the edge tone not changing, “in nature Crows and Robins have an interest relationship. Crows are an omnivorous creature, they don’t just eat seeds and nuts like some people will have you believe. They’ve even been reported to peck out the eyes and tongues of lambs. Robins are no exception,” you hold him over the edge and watch as his eyes widen. He squirms and yells, “Crows will actually protect the nests of Robins, for a fee of course.” Batman should appear any minute now. “There young, they take and feast on the eggs and hatchlings. They basically farm them, it’s fascinating really. Crows are one of the smartest birds, about as intelligent as a 7 year old human. We’re watching the first signs of the evolution of a society!” You say almost giddy, “little mafias! It’s adorable and fascinating!” “We’re are you going with this” you just stare down at him, your mask making it nothing more then a dark void. You can practically feel his presence close to you, “it’s simple really! I’ve never been payed my dues! And you’re just a hatchling that doesn’t know better” and you drop him.

Batman catches him of course, but by the time he does and gets back up the tower you’re already long gone.

——————

Sorry if it takes a while for me to post things! I haven’t been feeling great both physically and mentally lately.

[wqnwoos]

cw — alcohol mentions, reader wears makeup

you’re drunk and you’re annoyed, which is never a good combination, because it makes it that much harder for jeonghan to take you home. 

more specifically, you’re annoyed with him, which you’d told him through slightly slurred words and a finger to his chest the moment you saw him at seungcheol’s birthday party.

(“i’m really pissed,” you’d announced, and clarified, “at you. yoon jeonghan.” and then had returned to the party like you didn’t just make his heart sink to his stomach.)

jeonghan can think of two reasons why you’d be annoyed at him. one — you’ve worked out that he was the one who ate your favourite snack during movie night with your friends last week. or two — you’re mad about what happened yesterday.

to be honest, he knows which one it is, because there’s no way you worked out he ate your sour patch kids. he planted the evidence on seungkwan. but more than that, he’s focussed on trying to get you through the door of your apartment, so he stores the thought for later, and grabs your flailing arm to walk you inside.

“i’m not drunk,” you say, the moment your front door is shut. you scowl at him. “so you can go home now.”

jeonghan only sighs a little, reaching to take your bag from you. 

“no!” you pull away, still frowning, but you pull away. you’ve never pulled away from him, not like that, and it leaves jeonghan speechless for a moment. pricks him in a place where it hurts.

“i’m mad at you,” you remind him, shaking off your shoes. 

“you pulled away,” jeonghan says dumbly, still rooted to the spot. 

for some reason, that makes you scoff, and you turn on your heel, marching towards your room, calling over your shoulder — “well, you’d know all about pulling away, wouldn’t you, yoon jeonghan?”

well. if he hadn’t been sure before, he’d be sure now. he can’t do much else other than sigh and follow you, watching in silence as you fish out your pyjamas and shut yourself in the bathroom to change. 

he gives in when you come out, just as you start taking off your jewellery with excessive force. “okay, why don’t you just tell me why you’re mad?”

you cast him a dirty look through the mirror of your dresser. “you know why.” you take off your rings, placing them on the wood a little too hard — “or is that just what we do now? making out and never talking about it?” another ring comes off as you force a bitter kind of cheeriness into your tone. “because that’s great! that’s absolutely fucking fine!”

jeonghan leans against the wall, his face dropping into a frown as he watches you. “i’m sorry.”

“sorry for what? since we’re not talking about it.” you’re taking off your makeup now, running the wipes harshly over your face — too harshly, so jeonghan comes over and takes it out your hand before you can stop him.

carefully, slowly, jeonghan wipes over your forehead, across your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose. he tries to be gentle, and you don’t say anything, just blink at him owlishly — all your anger dissipated, at least for the moment. 

“jeonghan,” you say quietly, and suddenly your eyes are wet, and he’s reminded that you’re not completely sober. “what are you doing?”

“hey,” he says, suddenly alarmed, hand cupping your cheek, setting the makeup wipe down, “don’t cry. why are you — ”

“i’m not crying! my eyes are just wet, okay?”

there’s a long moment where he stands with his hand on your cheek, you leaning into his touch, and then you’re asking again, soft — “jeonghan, what are you doing?”

“apologising,” he breathes, and then he’s running a thumb over your cheek. “i’m sorry. about yesterday. about leaving right after — after we kissed.”

your lips protrude in what he can only call a pout. “you didn’t even text.”

“i know,” he murmurs. “i wanted to. i thought — ”

“am i a bad kisser or something?” you demand through a yawn, and then you’re rambling again, a mixture of nervousness and alcohol. “because you kind of caught me by surprise, you know, and i wasn’t really ready and i just — i didn’t know if you were kissing me for the same reason i was kissing you — or if you were just… bored.”

somehow, jeonghan manages a laugh. “___, i don’t kiss people because i’m bored. i kiss them when i like them.”

“so then…” you trail off before you ask the actual question, but jeonghan can see it in your eyes, and he thinks he can see something else too. something that makes his heart do a funny little swoop, makes him crack the slightest of smiles. the weight that’s been pressing into his ribs since yesterday is gone, because one look into your eyes and jeonghan suddenly knows what he couldn’t tell yesterday.

“exactly what you’re thinking,” he says, letting go of your face when he observes your drooping eyes. “but maybe we should talk about this in the morning. if you still remember.”

you don’t say anything, but your eyes sparkle with sudden clarity, like you’ve realised the same thing he’s realised, and you wrap your arms around him for the briefest, sweetest moment.

and then you’re pulling away, but this time jeonghan doesn’t mind as much, because you look him in the eyes and give him a smile that could very well be a piece of heaven.

“i’ll remember,” you promise. “as long as you don’t run away again, i’ll remember.”

prompt from this prompt list !!!

an / guys honestly this may be incoherent because i’m so sleepy and i had motivation to write this but nowhere near enough motivation to proofread. it might not even make any sense. in fact i apologise for this piece because i don’t think it’s worth reading but if you’re reading the author’s note at the bottom i’m going to assume you’ve already read it. sorry

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @wondering-out-loud

@tokitosun @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin

@icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars

@immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya

@yepimthatonequirkyteenager @qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9

@lightnjng @strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura

@iamawkwardandshy @twilghtkoo @yuuyeonie @lllucere

@pearlesscentt @sourkimchi @porridgesblog

[dollwrites]

ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅs ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° sᴇᴘʜɪʀᴏᴛʜ

ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ ｔｙｐｅ ┊ standalone

ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ ┊ smut ( minors dni ), mentor/student, tummy bulge, orgasm denial, all characters featured are aged 18+

ｉｍｐｏｒｔａｎｔ ┊ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

“Faster,” the word is a husky, bubbling whisper from Sephiroth’s lips, one that you didn’t see him shape the syllables of, but one that still shook you to your core nonetheless. as his pleasure sounds always did. “Harder.” you wanted to do what he commanded, even as your thighs trembled, and your feet turned inwards— your balance on your tippy toes threatening to slip away and have you tumbling face first into the dirt beneath them, you attempted to plant yourself firmer, and buck backwards. your ass cheeks slap against the leather of his coat and trousers as he stood, his clothes half undone and hanging from his chiseled frame. your own uniform had been completely discarded in a flurry of black and silver, and now lay in a defeated puddle of fabric and metal at your feet. with each smack and squish of your flesh against his solid thighs, his taut abdomen, you feel the might of his cock as it barrels through your core, and you cry out in ecstasy.

your walls flutter, happy to receive such a heaping offering of cock, and you hear a low hum from behind you— emanating from the depths of your mentor’s chest, and realize that he’s sealed his couplet to keep the moan from surfacing. even without attempting to look over your bare shoulder at him, you knew the sound well, and the visage that typically accompanies it. a knitting of thin, grey brows, and the little wrinkle that forms between them when he feels you clamp down on him just right. a rolling back of his olive gaze, the vertical slits blown out with lust until the pupils nearly overtake the entire iris. a tightening of his jaw muscles, and a bulging of the vein on his neck, so easily shrouded by silver tresses.

“Still so far from orgasming, yet you tighten around my cock as if you’re already begging for cum.” you can practically hear the subtle curve of Sephiroth’s mouth as he teases you, yet doesn’t move an inch out of position. flat footed and relaxed, with his hands not clinging to your hips, but still and straight at his sides. “What’s the matter? Just can’t help yourself?”

“Nn-nn…” you answer, unashamed of your eager reply. it was impossible to deny it anyways, what with the way you milked him now.

“The second you get my cock inside you, you forget all about pleasing yourself, no? Only servicing me matters?”

you nod, but the tepid pace, only what you could muster whilst also struggling to balance, was also frustrating you. of course, taking him fully to the hilt was pleasurable— to feel your lower tummy bulging in the shape of his cock when your netherlips kiss his base— but this speed was not nearly enough to make you cum. what you really wanted; nay, what you really needed to find fulfillment was the harsh grip of Sephiroth’s hands on your hips, the strength and quickness with which he typically fucked you, and the dizzying sensation of being tossed about a raging storm of his desire.

he would give you none of that today.

“P-please, Sephiroth… fuck, I need—“ your breath is ragged, your words threatening to tie your tongue into knots as you struggle through the plea, “I need it!”

he knew already what you were asking for, but he doesn’t reach for your hips. he does, however, shift behind you, but only to cross his massive arms over his broad chest, and with a tilt of his head, he taunts you once more. “You lost, 2nd Class.” he mutters. perhaps Sephiroth, who was also enjoying the tightness of your warm cunt, wanted to give in to your request and plow you silly, but he was showing restraint. even as his hips twitched, begging to boost your rhythm by beating themselves against your ass, he remains stoic. “You know the rules.”

you did, much to your own loathing. sparring with Sephiroth in the training room had rules. one such rule being that the loser ( you, more often than not ) would get no reward for their poor form.

your interior flutters and spasms around his thick, veiny cock, and Sephiroth allows a sigh to slip through his tiers, a sound of approval. “I’m going to cum, you know.” his rumbling baritone drops to a whisper as he leans close, one hand freeing itself and careening around your lower belly. it plants itself there, fingertips barely flicking and rubbing at your engorged button to coax a helpless mewl from your lips, and encourage your innards to tighten around him still. your head droops forward, chin tucked to your breasts.

“F-fuck—“

that’s when Sephiroth lips caressed the shell of your ear, his voice low with dastardly intent, but the smile remains upon them. “I could easily strum your little cunt, and give you that pleasure, too…” his voice trails off, but his fingers do not mirror his words. they rub in torturously slow circles, until you’re begging under your breath. “But I won’t,” he asserts, finally. “I’ll play with you just enough to keep it tight and drooling, until I cum, and then I’ll pull out and leave you begging for a release that will not come this day, or any of those that follow. Until you can best me properly.”