#apologies in advance for whatever the hell this is

[dragongirlafro]

hey so just as a heads up this app was already becoming unusable before i updated it and now i'm getting a lot of bugs i had heard about from a few days ago so um. sorry to new followers but there's a nonzero chance i uninstall the app and take an indefinite hiatus after tomorrow morning 🙃 this is getting absolutely ridiculous

[sanguineterrain]

Kurt wagner and tail stuff!!! I love that boy! I love how you write! I love the tail! Smashing them together we got a a little piece of heaven! So Kurt wagner with s/o and some tail action pretty please!!

(Like if you need some more then that: for example, the times before they were together Kurt’s tail always seemed to gravitate towards reader (I’m an advocate that Kurt’s tail is like a fricking mood ring) wrapping around them, touching them. The times when they were together! And the time reader wraps their hand or something around his tail or something)

Love your writing! You’re awesome and amazing! And I want to say in advance, thank you so so much for doing this ask! I will treasure it dearly! And if you don’t do the ask then thank you so so much to taking the time to read it! Have a lovely day!

ouuu this is a sweet request <3 tail boy! thanks nonnie :) hopefully I did him justice 🫶 changed the request a bit but kept the same idea about the tail. may write a part 2... we'll see!

kurt wagner (nightcrawler) x gn!reader. fluff, cooking, gambit and rogue trying to talk some sense into the reader.

note: I tried to capture kurt and gambit's accents. however, as always, I'm open to feedback on them. It's definitely not my intention to offend or miswrite anyone!

****

The smell of bubbling cheese wafts from your pot as you stir. It's been a while since you were able to cook for yourself and have a nice meal, always running out to do something or another for the good of the planet.

"Smells good," comes a familiar voice. A moment later, a tail curls around your wrist as you shake some paprika into the pot.

You look away from your stirring into golden, irisless eyes. Kurt grins at you.

"Mac 'n cheese," you say by way of greeting. "Want some?"

"Please und thank you."

Anytime you cook, you offer Kurt to share. You frequently have the thought that you spoil the hell out of him, but you can't help it.

He helps you out by putting away the milk and cheese. But he's never far; his tail remains on you. It slackens from your wrist, then explores up your arm and around your elbow.

It's nothing new, of course. The first thing you learned about Kurt Wagner is how physically affectionate he is.

"That tail seems to have a mind of its own, elfie," you say, smiling down at the pot.

"What do you mean?"

"It's always holding onto me." You turn off the burner.

"Ah." Kurt drops his tail. "My apologies. I can ease up, as you say."

You shake your head. "Don't. I don't mind. Never have."

So Kurt gives you one final tail squeeze. The fur on his arm tickles you as he brushes past. You watch him in confusion.

"Where are you going?" you ask, halfway through scooping two servings of the pasta.

"Not far," he says brightly. "Jean wanted me to bring spoons from the kitchen." He holds up three metal spoons with his tail.

"Spoons?"

He shrugs. "An experiment. Who am I to question a scientist's whim? I promise I will be fast."

He teleports away, and you have a mind to cover Kurt's bowl with a plate. You bring both bowls to the table. At last, a proper meal.

You don't mind eating alone, but that hardly ever happens with Kurt around. Even if he's just eaten, he'll nibble on whatever you've made. You don't know where he puts all that food—perhaps in another dimension—but he makes it a point to eat with you, regardless of whether you've cooked or not. Even if you're in the middle of the forest eating a tin of beans, Kurt will plant himself right next to you and keep you company.

He's a good friend. The best friend you've ever had, actually.

"Woo, smells good!"

Gambit comes in first, followed by Rogue, since the two are never seen apart anymore. Gambit, nosy that he is, makes a beeline to Kurt's covered bowl.

"And what's in here?" he asks, lifting the plate.

"That's Kurt's," you say. "You can get some from the pot."

"Mais, it's Kurt's, huh?" He glances at Rogue, who grins. "Hear that, chère? Not sure if I should take from the pot. Might take my head, too."

You squint as they share laughter. "What're you talking about?"

"Oh, nothin'," Rogue says sweetly, taking the seat diagonal to you. Gambit sits next to her.

Your frown deepens. "I didn't say you couldn't have some, G, I just—"

Gambit shakes his head. "Don't go worryin' 'bout that. I'm just teasin'. I think it's cute how you feed the furball."

"Excuse me, I feed myself first," you say, and shovel a forkful of pasta into your mouth.

You hate not being in the know. It happens frequently, being that you're not a mutant. You're here on a personal invitation from Charles due to your "technology skills."

Really, you'd been brought here to fix Cerebro. And after that, you'd sort of just... stayed at the school. Charles had offered you a room, Kurt had won your friendship (or, perhaps, you'd won his), and you'd never left.

"Well, what do you mean, anyway? So what if I feed Kurt," you say, unable to stand not knowing.

"Just seems like where you are, Kurt's never far," Rogue says, watching you eat.

"Yeah, so? He's my friend."

"Oh, un ami. Is that what we're callin' it?" Gambit asks, eyes gleaming with mirth.

"What else would you call it?"

They look at each other in that Siamese cats way. Often, you've had the thought that they can read each other's minds—no powers needed.

"You really don't know?" Rogue asks, voice softening.

"Know what?" you ask impatiently.

Gambit makes a quiet noise in his throat. "Y'all don't know. He's gone on you."

Your brows rise. "Kurt? Don't be silly, Remy."

"Oh, great. You're both in denial," Rogue says, rolling her eyes. "Haven't you noticed how touchy he is around ya? Always huggin' and clingin'."

"Kurt's like that with everybody," you say. "He's like that with Logan!"

"Mais, the tail, it never lies," Gambit says with all the wisdom of someone centuries older. "He don't go wrappin' that tail 'round anybody."

Rogue nods sagely. "True. And he's always puttin' that tail around you."

"But he's..." You put your fork down in frustration. "That's ridiculous. Kurt would've said—I mean, there would've been a sign. He would've told me. Kurt doesn't hide anything from me."

"This is new for him, honey," Rogue says. "He's never been in love for real. He's not gonna act rationally."

"Alors, look at it this way. La Raison parle, mais l'Amour chante. Hm? His body betray his words. It sings to you. Jus' like I sing to ma cherie."

He reaches to take Rogue's hand, eyes practically heart-shaped. Rogue lets him, smiling in that secret, shy way of hers whenever Gambit is sweet on her.

L'Amour...

"Kurt is not in love with me," you say. "End of story."

They both heave sighs.

"Just watch his tail," Rogue says. "Kurt can hide a lot, but he can't control how he—"

BAMF!

You flinch as Kurt teleports into the kitchen. He grins and waves, then bounces around the table to greet the others.

"I'm back!" he says. "I hope my mac did not get cold. Will you be eating with us?"

"No, that's okay," Rogue says, looking at you meaningfully behind Kurt's back. "Rain check. We've gotta go train."

Gambit winks at you. "See y'all."

They disappear quickly. Kurt turns to you, blissfully unaware of your newly formed nerves.

"I am sorry I was gone for so long," Kurt says, sitting down to his bowl. "Jean had some questions about my abilities. Apparently, she's trying to replicate them in a machine."

"That's okay," you say. "Rogue and G kept me company."

Kurt beams. "They are so good for that, yes?"

He shovels a mouthful of mac 'n cheese into his mouth and groans in appreciation. His tail instantly curls around your wrist.

"Amazing!" Kurt says. "Perhaps your special ability is your cooking, hm? I would believe it."

You laugh. "Danke, elfie."

"Bitte schön," he says, eyes lighting up at your German. He frequently informs everyone about how good your German is becoming, even though you hardly know ten phrases.

His tail begins to stroke your arm. You wonder if he's aware of it. If he knows how his tail betrays him.

But no, that's outrageous. And even if it was true, it's not like the feeling's mutual, right?

"Oh, and," Kurt says. "I got us tickets to that show you wanted to see. They're playing it at the theater downtown. We can go on Saturday, ja?"

"You... oh. Wow. I told you about that ages ago, Kurt. You remembered?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he says, tilting his head. Like it hadn't occurred to him to be anything less than thoughtful.

"No, I'm just—thank you. That's really nice of you."

Kurt beams. "I am excited to watch the green witch und her pink friend sing!"

He keeps eating, unaware of the way he's made your world tip on its axis. Because now you know.

You're in love with Kurt Wagner. And the feeling just might be mutual.

[yumeboshi]

𝜗𝜚。．．❛ #02. XXX!

𐙚 topic。．hcs of random things that turn on hsr men

．。𝜗𝜚 cw。suggestive content, i wrote this with no brain, MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 a/n。aven, sunday, and blade. I wanna write for my bootyhill but i need to study him more to get a grip of him lol

#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE ⇢ rebuking his argument in a fight

。i js know he would go crazy when you do this 。he’d find people who just agree with him as boring. To him it may look even insincere 。but you? countering his smartly crafted arguments with irresistible logic with your pretty brain, glaring at him as you do with those adorable eyes? 。this man would go from being mad to being horny. tbh he would have probably already been horny in the argument 。nobody can be more masochistic than he is

“ARE YOU STUPID?” You glare at your boyfriend who looks nonchalant as he idly examines the coin between his fingers. “Fucking look at me. Do you know what happens when you join forces with them? You’re just risking the IPC and it will eventually lead to your unfortunate befall.”

You continue barreling on furiously with concrete points. Every time you prove him wrong, his eyes dance and he tries his hardest to bite back the grin that plays at his lips as you rant on. You are so perfect, he thinks- he is nonetheless impressed at you, your wondrous little brain. Something snaps inside of him when he sees you focused on derailing his points, your lips moving quickly to spit out syllables. He feels a loud moan caught in his throat.

“I get it, I’m sorry, princess, I won’t do it.” he suddenly surrenders and you eye him suspiciously as he advances, hands sneaking up to your back. “Let’s talk this out in bed, ‘m gonna apologize to you there.” He says softly, giving you lovely kisses along your neck but the way his fingers dig into your skin lets you know he’s not going to wait any longer.

And you will be confused as hell, because although you did win the argument, you feel like you just lost something else, a hidden little game he never taught you the rules to.

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY ⇢ whipped cream on your lips

。hear me out… i have a gut feeling he likes it a little too much 。ik it’s totally random but he will go nuts when he sees you bite down a particularly creamy cake that promptly smears its remains over your mouth- he tries to think of something more dignified, but he just can’t. His poor brain keeps returning to the most vulgar visuals of you. 。he will always point out whatever you had near your mouth when you two eat, because he’s such a clean freak, but anything with cream, specifically white whipped cream, he will be unable to comment on it and fall weirdly silent to he point you are confused why you not hear his scolding to wipe your mouth. 。he’ll just watch you eat dessert with a smile on your face as you savor the taste innocently. Unfortunately his brain is not, and he will start to feel his cock struggle under the fabric. 。”you have cream over your mouth, sweetheart. should i clean it for you?” he’ll sound restrained, like he’s being choked but his expression doesn’t waver. 。and after he found out his new obsession, he will literally only buy you huge whipped cream cakes for dessert.

“THE CAKE HERE IS SO GOOD.” You savor the taste happily and dig into the whipped cream cake and eat without much care. “Where’s it from?”

Sunday is too busy staring at you to register that. The creamy ring around your pink lips. It bothers him in a bad way. It’s making him feel like he is out of breath. His wings flicker wildly like a cooling fan, trying to blow off the heat that suddenly started to build inside his stomach like a raging primal flame that’s trapped by his own conscience.

You tap his shoulder gently and he snaps back to reality and tries to stare at your eyes instead, yes, lovely eyes, he thinks- your words phase in and out as he gulps, darting his eyes back to the cake.

“…the brand? The cake brand?” You ask again, frowning at his silence.

“Ah, yes, sorry, sweetheart. I was thinking of something else for a moment.” He breathlessly apologizes, the words spilling out a little too quickly like an excuse that makes your frown deepen in confusion— he closes his eyes and opens them again so the heat will ebb away. But his plans are obliterated when you take a portion of the cake and eat it, all while looking at him in the eye with curious doe eyes.

That’s when he can’t restrain himself anymore. He suddenly seizes your chin with his gloved hand, making you squeal in surprise when he practically devours your lips, licking up the cream residue around them roughly before shoving it inside your mouth with his tongue. The sweet cream melts when it gets to your mouth, mixing with his saliva that dips down your chin to make messy thick lines.

“It was from a shop at Golden Hour. I hope you like the taste,” he’d say as if he didn’t just feast on your mouth like a starved beast. “Me personally, i think it’s a tad too sweet.”

#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིLADE ⇢ treating his wounds

。it’s ironic because Blade doesn’t want to be healed at all 。but how could he refuse you you’re frantically at his door with an emergency kit, worry written all over you- you are like a cute puppy that keeps following him around. 。he lets you do it reluctantly at first, grumbling about it inwardly 。but when you lift up his shirt with no hesitation to put gauze to soak in the blood, his muscles tense visibly, when your touch ghosts over his skin like tiny little lilies blooming in their wake. 。what have you done to him? He feels nothing but tension and something he didn’t want to register, something a little too pleasant to him. 。and at some point he will actually look forward to having his would treated by you. He still likes pain, but he likes your touch drifting over his bruised skin like an innocent butterfly way more.

“DOES IT HURT?” You softly pat the ointment around another fresh scar on his broad chest. It pains you to see that most of the scars are near his heart. You sigh like a worried mother. “You worry me.”

“I enjoy it,” he grunts in response, but his brain ran a quick recap. Enjoy what? The pain? Or your smooth touch?

“Stay still,” you say, and he does, as you carefully squeeze in another ointment into an ugly looking scar. His eyes never leave you the whole time, his muscles tense at the pain but otherwise he’s relaxed. His intimidating stare makes you scared a little, considering this mysterious man didn’t speak his mind often.

“I think that’s it,” you say, quickly trying to lower Blade’s shirt back- but the man grabs your wrist mid-action. You jump, confused. His eyes are unreadable but he states, “You’re not done.”

you frown in puzzlement. “I double-checked, im pretty sure I didn’t miss a spot.”

He lifts his shirt up and with his bandaged finger, cuts open the scar you just treated for him, making it ooze another layer of fresh blood around the dried wound. His lips form a rare smirk as he looks at your wide-eyed stare.

“There, you have a new wound to work on.”

He will do that until you are out of ointment, and the next day he will come visit you first this time with another set of fresh scars.

[ivymarquis]

The Neighbor

Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)

Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.

There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.

Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.

His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.

She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.

He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.

The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.

And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.

But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.

The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.

For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.

He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.

That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.

So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?

John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.

He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.

It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.

The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.

“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.

“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”

John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.

If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.

“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.

“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.

“Get out.”

Oh.

John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.

Good fucking girl.

“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.

“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”

For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.

There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.

And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.

The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.

John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.

There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’

He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”

Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.

She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.

It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.

The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.

Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.

She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.

John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.

Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.

John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.

What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.

The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.

He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.

Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.

So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.

He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.

“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.

Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.

It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.

She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.

Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.

“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.

“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.

She doesn’t.

In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.

John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.

They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.

It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.

“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.

“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.

“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.

Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.

By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.

She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.

The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.

Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.

He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.

He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.

There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.

The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.

The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.

“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.

Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.

“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”

He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.

Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.

“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.

Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.

The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.

His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.

As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.

Well. That simply won’t do.

The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.

He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.

“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”

“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.

To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.

“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”

Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.

He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.

It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.

But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.

She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.

Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.

More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.

“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.

“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.

He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.

“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.

He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.

He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.

Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.

Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.

“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.

He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.

“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”

Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.

“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.

The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.

A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.

As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.

“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.

“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.

He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.

The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.

“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.

“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.

His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.

She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.

Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.

Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.

His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.

“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.

“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”

Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.

“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.

She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.

“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.

“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.

She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.

It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.

It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”

He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.

Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.

Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.

John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.

“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.

“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.

“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.

“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”

He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.

John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.

He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.

Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.

And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.

He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.

Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.

“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”

“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”

“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”

The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…

Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.

“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”

“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“

“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”

“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”

“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”

“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”

“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”

Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.

“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”

The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.

John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.

But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.

The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.

Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.

She’s awake.

“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.

She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.

“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.

She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”

It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.

Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.

Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.

He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

[navybrat817]

Could use a night with neighbor Bucky, Navy.

We know our hot neighbor is horny as hell for you, nonnie, but what if he does something sweet for you?

You're tired, a long day after a long week. Your bed is calling your name. So is your neighbor. He wants you to come over. As tempting as it is to hang out and let him wear you out, you're already exhausted as it is. But he's a sight for sure eyes and you do want to see him though, so you join him in his backyard. His smile when he opens the fence makes your heart melt.

When you see the romantic setup feet away, it melts again. 

You're used to the fairy lights that typically light up the yard and the pool, but tonight he has a blanket and pillows set up in the grass. It's for the two of you to cuddle and gaze at the stars. He even has a few snacks and drinks nearby, a reminder that he's thoughtful and attentive.

It's comfortable as he helps you sit. Familiar. He's warm as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his space. The stars sparkle above you, but he isn't looking at the sky at all. He isn't missing anything. 

Everything he wants to see is there in his arms.

His lips touch your temple and you sigh when you lean into him more. You don't realize just how badly you needed him to hold you until then. You warn him that you may fall asleep and apologize in advance if you do. He answers by putting another blanket around you both. He's happy to cuddle, sleep, whatever you want. 

You can't think of a better way to end the evening. 

Neither can he. 

Love and thanks! ❤️

[gaysindistress]

What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man? - part two

a/n: I know John isn’t American but I kept picturing him as Joe from SIX and honety Gibs from NCIS and I couldn’t stop myself. I sincerely apologize that this John is American-grumpy-hot-military-older man coded (not really). Also I know it took a month and I’m so sorry 🙈 I got so busy at work but it’s here! Enjoy!!

Warnings: smutty smut smut, phone sex

non-mcu masterlist

part one

Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @calicocat45 @whos-fran @vonev @yyiikes

The situation at hand is tricky to say the least. Waiting around and trying to be careful of everyone’s feelings will push you away. On the other hand, he’s wanted to show you the love that you deserve and now is his chance.

Fuck Simon.

Fuck him for treating you like a safety net and like you’re replaceable. Fuck him for letting you shoulder the burden of your relationship and expecting you to always be at his beck and call. Fuck him for lying to you instead of having the balls to just be honest about why he wanted to break up. Fuck Simon Riley for saying that you could find a better man and expecting you to not listen to him for once.

“I want a lot of things,” he starts and takes a moment to choose his words, “I might be a gentleman but I’m a selfish man. I won’t take what’s not offered but you’d be hell bent to find me sharing my life with others. If you say that it’s over and mean it, well then love, I’ll be the most selfish man you’ve ever met when it comes to you. Im not some young lad anymore; I’m settled in my life and now that things are stable I want someone to share it with. I’ll follow your lead when it comes to how we share it but just know that I don’t want something casual or even friendship.”

You’re still resting your chin on his shoulder, listening to his every word as hope begins to fill your eyes. It’s the last sentence he whispers as he gazes down at you that causes your breath to hitch;

“I’ll love you until my lungs give out.”

And this man Delivers. The capital d is not a typo. John Price understands that you’re an independent person and he respects that. That’s not to say that he doesn’t spoil the absolute shit out of you and ensures that you are happy in every facet of your life imaginable.

The dogs are being wild today and overwhelming you? As soon as he gets home, he’s taking them out on a walk and giving you instructions to go have yourself a nice hot bath. Dinner is already taken care of so no need to worry about that. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the quiet.

He’s been on deployment for a couple weeks and the loneliness is starting to creep in? You will be getting at least two check in texts a day and a call or FaceTime if he can before you go to bed. You should also expect some sort of care package to be on your doorstep weekly. This could be anything from flowers to your whole ass Amazon cart, all you need to do is say you miss him and he’s got you covered.

Things have been a little tense between the two of you? Well get ready because you’re going to be doing a check in that night where the two of you talk about whatever is going on. If it’s something small like you’re both stressed from work and a weekend getaway is needed, he’s already got that planned. If it’s something that needs more work, he’s ready to dive right into it and figure it out.

Still true to his internal word, nothing physical happens between you two at first. He wanted desperately to kiss you when he told you he would love you until his last breath but he didn’t. Disgusted by the enormity of his craving for you, John vowed to wait until you asked for his physical affection. Of course this meant he wouldn’t give into any of your advances until you told what you wanted.

After that night, you began the long and arduous process of breaking down John’s resolve. While it may have been unspoken, you knew what he wanted but you weren’t going to give into him so quickly. It started with closing the distance between you two. Instead of sitting on opposite ends of the couch, you’d lay your feet in his lap or move just close enough to trail your fingers over the back of his hand. Only would you move to sit beside him if he slung his thick arm over the couch’s back and beckoned you closer. Then you would take every opportunity possible to cuddle into his side and slyly skirt your hands across the waistband of his sweats when you wrapped your arms around him. If you were in the kitchen together, you were always just out of his grasp. His fingers could grasp at the back of your shirt but never fully grab you. You’d swiftly slip around him if he moved behind you but not before brushing your hands over him in some way.

Eventually you grew bolder and began to shower with the door propped open. You’d said it was so the dogs could still see you but John isn’t stupid. He knew that you wanted him to catch a glimpse of your body through the foggy glass doors. But here’s the thing; he’s not Simon. Simon would’ve joined you and fucked you on that glass door like your life depended on it but not a captain price.

No no no. John Price is going to make you say those three little words, ‘I want you’, before he touches you even if it means leaving on for a mission without so much as a chaste peck on the lips. No amount of sly looks and sneaky touches is going to convince this man to give into you.

He starts beating you at your own game though. his bedroom door is suddenly always cracked open making it so that you can hear every rumbling moan and gasp of your name when he fists his cock at night. You no longer feel the waistband of his underwear when you wrap your arms around his am waist during your cuddles. Instead your fingers find the thick trail of hair that disappears under his sweatpants. Speaking of which, John knows about grey sweat pants and he exploits that turn on every chance he gets. Soon it goes from just wearing them low on his hips to forgoing boxers (as mentioned above) and sometimes he even ‘forgets’ his shirt. The memory of his thick bare chest on display alone is enough to make you clench your legs together.

When he finally does have to leave for work, he presses a light kiss to your temple and tells you to be careful. It goes without saying but John makes your promise anyways. Eases his old heart as he likes to say. If only he would go easy on yours…

Nearly every photo, FaceTime, what have you, this man is bare chested with lidded eyes and a knowing smirk on his face. He knows that you’re frustrated with the way things have played out; namely his departure with no memorable moments. He’s already become an expert in you, knowing what your body langue means, what your blushes mean, and most importantly, what your words truly mean.

Probably about a month in to this mission is when it comes to a climax. Your hands were doing nothing to ease the ache between your legs and your toys were making it worse. It was as if your body knew that it was you instead John rubbing small circles into your clit late at night. You’d tried nearly everything you could think of aside from finding someone in a pub and telling the older captain about your dilemma. While you two weren’t anything more than roommates with feelings at this point, it still felt wrong to find someone else to help you out. With only one person that your body wanted and nothing you could do about it, you settled for being sexually frustrated and irritable.

John is finally able to get some alone time to call you and actually talk to you. Settled into some poor excuse for a cot, he makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to pick up. It makes maybe a few rings before your tight voice comes through with a short ‘hello?’

He wants to chuckle and fails to suppress it, “Well hello to you too, love.”

Immediately you sigh when you recognize his voice, “oh John it’s you. How are you?”

“Been better. What’s been going on with you?”

You let out another deep sigh, pausing to answer as you contemplate what to tell him.

“What is it, love? Something bothering you?”

“I…I’m just….im just irritable,” you attempt to pass off as the full truth but John knows you better than that.

“Irritable you say?”

You can hear him shuffle around on his end and it causes your legs to cross to even think about him. God it’s beyond annoying to be this turned on over just hearing him move around, let alone hear his voice right now.

“I’d say a relaxing day is in order,” he teases with a low pitched sultry tone, “find some relief in a massage maybe.”

Relief.

The word feels hot as it washes over your brain and invokes images that would make a nun curse under her breath.

You snort at his suggestion. In that small noise, he finds all the answers he needed; you’re about to break and murmur those three sweet words.

“No appeal to that, love?” He asks and you can just hear the smirk he’s wearing. “A massage isn’t the relief you’re looking for though is it? You need a different type of relief, isn’t that right love?”

That bastard.

You hear him shuffle again and you swear to god you hear the sound of a belt coming undone.

“Talk to me. Tell me how I can help.”

If you weren’t needy before, you must certainly are now. You feel pathetic, a bitch in heat with the way your body starts to react to his simple words. Practically mumbling you attempt to tell him to fuck off but it doesn’t sting as much as you’d hoped. John laughs off your feeble attempt at hiding the true reason you’re in a mood.

Instead of adding flame to fire, he stays quiet.

It takes 40 agonizing seconds of silence for you to groan his name out of frustration. The captain only hums his acknowledgment that you spoke.

Phone sex isn’t new to you by any means however there’s something about this time that causes you to falter. There’s something about the way he initiated it but is allowing you to lead where it goes. There’s something about the way he knew what you needed within seconds. There’s something about the way your body seems to know that it craves his without ever touching.

���Yes,” you mumble while your cheeks burn and your body sings at the thought of getting what it truly desires.

John chuckles under his breath and the sardonic sounds causes your eyes to squeeze shut.

“Be a good girl for me and slip your hand into your panties.”

Your hearing dulls to a muffled tone as your hand follows his instructions. Barely does your ears register the sound of skin on skin, a slick hand taunting an impossibly hard cock. Your name comes out as a groan when you tell him to continue.

“Fuuckkk, love. Tell me are ya wet?”

“S…soaked.” You sigh as you roll your clit with your fingertips.

He lets out a string of curses as his hips buck up into his hand and his cock throbs from his slow pace.

“I want you to keep rubbing your clit and fuck yourself with your fingers,” the captain orders you, “and dont try to hide any of those pretty sounds.”

You mumble a weak ‘okay’ as you work your clit in small circles, feeling yourself become even more wet.

Strings of curses fall from his lips as he listens to your desperate cries of pleasure. The sounds of his thrusts get louder and louder in time when you bury two fingers in and become to fuck yourself like he told you to. It feels better than all of your other attempts but it’s not enough.

Nothing will be enough until you can feel John’s cock deep inside of you. Until you can feel his hips rut against yours and his hoarse moans in your ear. Until you feel the burn that his facial hair will give you when he eats you out like a starved and neglected dog. Until you feel his warm speed leak from you after he’s worked you through several of your own orgasms.

The thoughts of what is to come push you over the edge and you moan out his name in an absolutely pornographic manner. It stirs something disgustingly powerful and sinful deep in his gut when he hears it. He can only imagine the beautiful display of pleasure and bliss that you’ve come as you lay panting post orgasm.

You can only imagine how stunning he looks with his sweats pulled down to his mid thigh, his bare chest rapidly rising and falling while his stomach is painted with his own cum.

“John?” You whisper after your breathing has returned to normal(ish). “When are you coming home?”

His lips turn up in a smirk at your word choice, “missing me more than you let on, now are ya love?”

“Yeah it’s lonely without you here. you can’t leave on another deployment like this without fucking me before.”

“I promise it won’t happen again, my love.”

[another-lost-mc]

Hey<3

I hope you're having a lovely day like you♡

I have a lil request which is OM brothers accidentally hitting MC maybe in the face or smth.

Thank you in advance ☺

a/n: considering the daily chaos that ensues at the HoL, I could see a lot of accidents happening. plus, they're demons—maybe they forget their own strength, y'know?

➤ when accidents happen | the demon brothers

1.1k words | sfw | hurt/comfort | gn!reader

Lucifer makes a grab for someone—probably Mammon or Satan—who ducks behind you at the last moment, causing his hand to swipe across your cheek or forehead instead. You rub the sore spot and start sputtering angrily at them, glaring back and forth between Lucifer's bewildered expression and the guilty face of the sibling he was reaching for. Their little fight is momentarily forgotten when they both comfort you and make sure you're okay. Lucifer feels the most guilt and over the next few days, you catch him staring at your face like he's trying to make absolutely sure you're not injured or holding a grudge against him. He eventually remembers how this whole situation started, and his sibling's delayed punishment is much more severe because you were caught in the crossfire.

Mammon nearly crashes into you in his rush to escape Lucifer or Levi's wrath. You have no idea what the shouting down the hall is about—maybe he spent too much money at the casino again or maybe he broke something valuable. All you know is that you're heading to the library and minding your own business when Mammon comes tearing around the corner at lightning-fast speed. It's comical how quickly his expression morphs from surprise to horror when he realizes you're in his path. He grazes your side even though he changes direction to avoid hitting you head-on. He loses his balance and the momentum sends him crashing to the floor. Whoever was chasing him catches up to him and there's gonna be hell to pay, but Mammon managed to avoid seriously hurting you and that's all he really cares about.

Levi shifts into his demon form when he's cuddled with you in his tub but he doesn't always realize it. You wake up most mornings with his tail wrapped around part of you: your arm, your waist, one of your legs. When Levi gets excited, his tail thumps against the porcelain. (You can't help but think about an excited dog wagging his tail, but you keep that comparison to yourself.) You usually fall asleep curled around each other, but sometimes his tail flails around enough that it wakes you up. Tonight his tail flicks roughly against the tip of your nose, and your eyes water from surprise and the initial burst of pain. You're fine again within a couple minutes, but that doesn't stop Levi from apologizing profusely and he nearly sobs with embarrassment over the whole thing.

Satan has better control over his frustration and rage now than when you first met him, but he still needs some sort of outlet when he feels overwhelmed. He usually storms off to his room and deals with it privately. You've offered him the solution of screaming into a pillow, but it's not soothing for him like it can be for you. He often destroys something instead—ripping a book to shreds (and regretting it later) or throwing something against the wall. Whatever's in his hand becomes collateral damage. If he forgets you're in his room too, it can be dangerous. He's never thrown something at you, but poor aim and bad luck means that whatever he sends flying against the wall can ricochet into pieces and hit you after. It's like a bucket of cold water dumping over his head when your little noise of surprise catches his attention, and he fusses over you endlessly while he makes sure you're not really hurt. He doesn't think it's funny when you grin and remind him that you're still in better shape than his now-destroyed coffee mug is.

Asmo rarely hurts you even by accident, and usually it's in silly moments of clumsy excitement. Today he painted his nails with a new nail art technique he hasn't tried before. You both lean down at the same time to admire his work and his forehead smacks into yours. You're both a little stunned and your eyes water from the shock rather than actual pain. He breaks out into giggles when you whine his name and try to blame him even though it's really no one's fault. Asmo accepts responsibility anyway and he apologizes profusely, but he hesitates to hug you when his nails are still wet and tacky with polish. He opens his arms wide so you can wrap your arms around his chest instead. He peppers your head with kisses and promises to make it up to you as soon as his nails are dry.

Usually Beel polishes off all the leftovers at dinner. Some nights you want extra helpings too, and it's like a mad dash to help yourself before Beel does. Tonight you both reach for the dish of hellfire scalloped potatoes at the same time. Your fingers grab the side of the dish first, but his fingers squeeze around yours immediately after. His grip is tight—too tight—and you wince from the pressure of his fingers digging into your hand and the uncomfortable heat of the ceramic dish against your palm. Mammon grabs his fork and stabs Beel's hand with it on your behalf. Beel looks so guilty when he pulls his arm away and insists that you can have the rest. His stomach growls in protest, but you know it was an accident and you're not really hurt. After you shake the stiffness from your fingers, you scoop some of the food onto his plate before helping yourself to the rest. Later on, he offers to take you out for ice cream as an apology.

When Belphie sleeps, he has some cursory awareness of what's going on around him but he tries to block it out. He's not easy to move around, either—his body is like dead weight, heavy and awkward and unyielding. When you nap together, he usually falls asleep and doesn't move around too much. You might scoot away when his body next to yours causes you to overheat, but he tends to stay exactly how he is. It's days when he has active dreams or bad nightmares that things can get a little awkward. He might wrap an arm around you suddenly and it's nearly impossible to wiggle free, and sometimes his tail makes an appearance and drapes over you when he feels particularly clingy. Sometimes your arm ends up pinched against the mattress after he rolls on top of you in his sleep. He'll wake up when he realizes it's you trying to get his attention, but his apologies for nearly crushing you don't sound very sincere. Once he's lifted himself off you, he lets you get repositioned first then he cuddles up beside you again. As he drifts off to sleep, he grumbles under his breath about how it couldn't have been that bad.

[prozackitty444]

" Just want to get back at him! "

slash smut; he gets on your nerves after he lets a groupie get all over him, you decide to get your revenge on him by talkin with another guy at a party.. he ends up fucking some sense into you.

You didn't have a clue what went wrong, and it all started when you started a little conversation to get back at Slash. The night before at an after party, this groupie was all over him! Bastard even gave her an autograph. Fuck, you were fuming- But you couldn't confront it like a normal person, no. You needed to get him wrapped around your finger.

"Hey, whats a pretty thing like you doing all alone?" A husky voice spoke out from behind you. You were having a drink to yourself while Slash was off doing whatever with the boys, literally at the moment contemplating what you should even do with Slash. You perked an eyebrow at the voice, turning over to the advance. It was some dude, you could hardly even tell in the light. You were quick to dismiss him, at first. "Don't bother." He gave a shocked expression, though you noticed that it was sarcasm. "Ouch! Feisty one, aren't ya'?" He spoke with a smirk. The cocky little smirk caught you off guard, looks like this guy didn't wanna give up. Off in the distance was Slash, laughing off with a group of guys with a beer bottle in his hands. Thaat fucker. You glanced back over to the man. He held a liquor drink in his hand casually, his demeanour seemed quite confident as well. Not too buff, not too lean. You smirked to yourself. This was perfect. "My bad, my bad. Your name is?" You spoke with clear intent in your voice, leaning into him with a small smirk. He clearly enjoyed your quick change. "Oh, you can call me Daddy anytime, doll." God. Maybe you should've thought this through.. The alcohol wasn't helping, clearly because his hand seems to be whisked around your waist now. You chuckled out in nerve, giving him an off-putting, uncomfortable smile. As you opened your mouth to speak, you felt your body being pulled back, and you stumble on a nearby counter. "What the fuck is this?" A rough voice yells out. You place your drink on the counter, turning over to find the commotion. Yep, it was Slash. He looked beyond pissed off, and that tone of voice sounded unforgiving. Shit.

Before you knew it, you were being dragged outside the house. Slash had a tight grip on your wrist, beginning to hurt. He shoved you off his grip, you stumbling onto the wall of the house. He brought you to the side, it was hard to even see your surroundings- once again, the alcohol in your system making it worse. You turned over to see Slash, practically fuming. "What the fuck was that?!" He roughly spoke out, stepping into your personal space. He was towering over you, you'd hardly seen him this mad. "Fucking answer me." He grabbed your cheeks roughly, forcing you to look up at him. A lump forms in your throat, and the guilt was really starting to sink in. You wanted to cry. "I…" You breathed out, struggling to find your words. You were not used to this type of treatment from Slash. "'M sorry, Slash.." You choked out, struggling to keep eye contact with him despite him having his aviators on. He scowled out at your apology, keeping the grip on your cheeks. "Do you like making me fucking lose my mind over you, Huh? Cant fucking leave you alone for one second." You fell silent, before remembering why you tried such a stunt in the first place. "I didn't mean for it to happen like that, I-I just," You let out a shaky breath, trying to find your composure. "I was just trying to get back at you.. Cause, last night and all." He stared at you dumbfounded, taking a moment to listen to your words. "The hell you mean last night?" You let out a sigh of irritation at the fact it seemed either he forgot or didn't bother it as a big deal. "When that damn groupie was all over you." You grumbled out with a tense face. He stared at you for a moment, before letting go of your cheeks and shaking his head. "So, that's what the issue was." He sighed out, looking at you with small guilt, but he still didn't approve of your way of getting this conversation out.. "So you decided on being a fucking whore?" He scowled out in irritation, and you gave a small smile in shame. He took quick notice, before he took another step closer and wrapped his hands around your waist. "Just wanted my attention, huh. Is that it? Youre such a slut." He spoke lowly against your ear, causing you to shudder. As this situation unfolded, you couldn't help but notice how shamelessly wet you were getting. He smirked, pressing up his body against you.

This soon lead to his hands whisking up your shirt and kneading the flesh. His bulge was poking against you, causing you to blush. "You need everyone to know your mine, huh?" He spoke in an amused tone, his hot breath on your neck was making it hard not to let out all the noises you've been holding back. He soon took ahold of you, bending you over onto the wall as he groped your ass. "Such a slut." He spoke with a smirk, his bulge against your heat made it hard to think. "Bet you wanted this." He lowly said, his hands finding the waistband of your bottoms. He pulled them down just to your knees, limiting your movement. You shrieked against the cold of the wall, using it as support to hold you up. "Tell me you wanted this." He demanded, god, the roughness in his voice made you throb. "I wanted this, Slash," You breathily huffed out. He groaned in response, pulling down your panties. The air hit you, and you writhed your hips in helpless discomfort and pleasure. You heard him spit out, assumingly onto his hand. He soon took his spit coated fingers, rubbing it along your folds.. It was almost too much lube, causing you to whine out. He chuckled, slipping a finger in you and starting a slow pace. "Slash.." Slash was all you could think about, especially with his thick finger pumping in you. He pushed another thick finger in, digging in deeper. His fingers enough could make you cum undone.. But the slow pace was becoming too much. Your hips wiggled in need, you whining out for more. He make quick notice of that, unbuckling his belt, pulling his jeans down enough whilst keeping his fingers pumping in you. "Slash, please, I want you inside." You whispered out, it was hard to keep your words together. "Fuck, you're such a cockslut." He huffed out, pulling out his hard member, pulling out of you and gripping the base of his dick. He stared down at you in lust, the view of you being in so much need for him made him want to fuck you senseless.

He let a hand grab onto your hip, and another holding his dick at your entrance. You whimpered out as the tip of Slash's cock started to enter you, causing you to shudder against the wall. "F-Fuck, Slash!" He groaned out, sliding further in you. "Everyone's gonna know you're mine." He pushed deeper in you, till he filled you up all the way with a groan. You helplessly moaned at the feeling. He grabbed your hips forward, starting a rough pace. He began relentlessly drilling into you raw, each thrust causing you to yelp out. "S-Slow down!" You cried out, his thrusts not slowing down one bit. "This is what you- you fuckin' get." He groaned out, his hand finding your hair and bunching it up in a grip. The stretch burned, but pleasure easily overcame it. He violated your cunt with every rough thrust, rough groans falling past his lips as he pulls on your hair. As he pounded deeper into you, his tip was hitting your cervix and it made you into such a mess, crying out, moaning his name. His thrusts began to get more sloppier, his groans getting more constant. "Fuck fuck, you feel too good, you're all mine." He pounded deeper and deeper, it all becoming too much. "Slash, please! I'm yours, yours, please!" You helplessly moaned out, he let go of your hair to grip your hips, his paced becoming faster then ever as you moaned incoherently. "Gonna make you mine, fuck, I'm gonna cum." He groaned out, soon enough he deeply thrusted into you. You moaned out, feeling his cum fill your insides. The feeling was too good to describe, and it left you both sweaty and panting for air. He slowly pulled out of you, caressing your hip.

"Now everyone definitely knows your mine." He spoke with a grin. Yeah, you guys were loud as hell..

[amelizscribbles]

OK, EXPLAINING DABIS SCARRING because @good-lord-not-books asked

*note these are just my hcs and some medical research

I'm putting this under a cut because it's long as hell, and I apologize in advance for any typos or if it's confusing. I have no problem explaining further♡

His scars are hypertrophic. which 1) explains the discoloration. It's what happens when the smaller blood vessels become partially or fully obstructed with scar tissue. They typcially start off pinkish or light red. (like when he woke up from his coma.)

Typically the treatment for this is laser removal. But if you don't have access the color may naturally shift with age/as it natueally heals. But with continuous damage to the areas.. the scar will get darker as the veins and tissue is further injured (the deeper into the skin and possible muscle it damages)

most hyrpertophic scarring can take a year + to heal. but obviously Dabi just keeps making his worse. The scars themselves are cause by the body over producing collagen for wound healing and not actually being able to break all of it down.

Which leaves collagen fibers in the skin to harden and thicken. Hardened skin doesn't allow much give, lessening the skins elasticity over all. Which can be shown in the way his unscarred skin pulls along the edges where the dermal rings line said scars. (my thoughts on his staples acrually being dermal rings will be at the end)

That's not even going into the nerve damage systemically for him considering hes covered in that kind of scar. So when he says he can't feel a thing it's literal as the nerve endings are shot to shit. And that is only going into skin deep level.

Interal organ nerve damage is a whole other mess due to the scaringbeing from burns. As severe enough burns cause systemic damage. (will also go into atfer the scarring part)

His skin looks TIGHT on him. If he did have and semblance of sensation in his nerves it might feel like hella tight/dry skin. Also I think hypertrophic scars are an inflammation response to the body healing.

His body is literally misshapen from it. (and yes we love him the way he is) You can see in panels where the skin is probably softer where there's lack of muscle definition but can see where it's tighter or pulling over his arms/ shoulders/ribcage because the skins elasticity is non-existent. The instances where it's sifter looking is probably due to his body trying to retain as much body fat it can to keep healthy (or as healthy as it's going to get in his state.)

As far as it going right up to his lower lids and having zero tear ducts. that man has chronic dry eye like it's nobodies business. so itchy and possibly bleeding eyes isn't a shock. he probably has several counts of grand larceny in artificial tears alone.

Ok so as for his scaring being from burns, burns affect the whole body and how it works depending on the severity.

It can effect muscle tissue/muscle mass, bone structure and interior organs.

Given he seems to be perpetually giving himself 3rd degree + burns .. his respiratory system and cardiovascular system are probably shot to shit. Just from smoke inhalation and perpetual injury. (hypertrophic scars fill the veins with scar tissue remember) Assuming how deep the burn and scar tissue goes.

But we haven't seen him with much breathing issues so I'm assuming it's whatever. He has mentioned motion sickness and we've even seen him turning down food. So I can at least go into it's affects on his GI tract.

In the GI tract, burns can result in increased gastric secretions, reduced intestinal motility, decreased nutrient absorption, increased GI mucosal permeability, bacterial translocation and increased intra-abdominal pressure. If it's bad enough he may have ulcers or gi hemorrhaging. Severe burns also cause liver and intestinal damage.

The fact that he's been alive this long is wild if he's been homeless this whole time and just committing small crimes to not die. One thing that irritates me is when people think he would be incredibly unhygienic due to the scars and such.

Like do you understand how CLEAN you have to keep burn injuries to keep them from getting infected?? Even if it's layered over already damaged and scarred skin. He might smell like burnt flesh but I doubt he's letting wounds fester.

Yes he could probably just cauterize himself but that's still just burning burn wounds. Especially with 0% health insurance. I always assumed he kept breaking into the Todoroki family home when he knew no one would be there to do basic things to make sure he didn't die on the street over the years.

Quick add on to my thoughts on his staples just being dermal rings to homd his skin together/as a form of human Kinstugi.

They (the rings) are pretty rounded in the manga, surgical staples aren't nearly that large either so I always assumed human Kinstugi regardless of metal color (between manga gold or anime silver) and it was both decorative and necessary for his skin.

I just assumed wherever the rings weren't, it was just spots he couldn't reach.

it's also shown in the manga that he's adjusting/adding more along his scars.

als, in case anyone is unfamiliar with the term Kintsugi, it's this

Kintsugi (Japanese: 金継ぎ, lit. 'golden joinery'), also known as kintsukuroi (金繕い, "golden repair"), is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with urushi lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. The method is similar to the maki-e technique. Its the Japanese philosophy that the value of an object is not in its beauty, but in its imperfections, and that these imperfections are something to celebrate, not hide.

which I think suits his character very well when his piercings and dermal rings are gold looking in some of the colored manga art.

ok, I'll shut up now, ♡

[frantic-fiction]

May I request some Jealous!Fem!Reader x Astarion? Maybe one where someone from Astarion’s past makes an appearance and while Astarion sees this woman as just a friend, reader can see the woman blatantly flirting with her vampire spawn and she doesn’t like it one bit. ESPECIALLY if Astarion’s oblivious to the woman’s advances and innocently engages (because let’s face it, our boy loves being praised & complimented 24/7). Reader decides it’s her turn to stake her claim on our little sassy vampire and remind everyone who he belongs to ;)

Yes! Yes! Thank you for the request!

Jealous

Astarion x gn!reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

It was nice being back in the city. Yes, there was still the ever-looming threat of the Absolute, but most of the party was back home, and for once, it felt like, for a moment, everyone could breathe. You had a fluffy bed to sleep on instead of a lumpy bedroll. And while Gale always made whatever perversions the party scavenged taste good, the warm, hearty tavern meals you've been treated to as of late were too good to beat.

But the best part of being back was taking any moment to drag Astarion out into the city to wherever he fancies so he can explore Baldur's Gate in the daylight without the darkness of Cazador. He wanted to visit the farmers market today, so you wandered the vendors' stalls, stopping to take moments and smell flowers and sample wares.

Astarion politely conversed with a tailor about the fabric quality used for a shirt he wanted. Frankly, they had been talking longer than your attention span could handle, so when your eyes wandered to a stall full of beaded jewelry, you wasted no time giving Astarion a quick peck on the cheek and telling him where you'd be.

The pieces were beautiful and skillfully crafted—brightly colored beads and gold inlays, gems of various minerals, all catching your eyes. The older halfling woman propped highly on the stool, greets you politely, and gives little details and facts about each one you set aside for closer inspection. Maybe you should get something for Shadowheart and Karlach? Probably not Lae—

"Astarion!"

A feminine voice has you snapping your head back to your partner. A frown instantly settles over your features when you see a tall, elven woman pull Astarion's hug. Her brown hair is intricately braided into a top knot decorated in sparkly chains. Her dress hugs her curves, framing her body perfectly.

Why are they still hugging?

"Oh Gods, it's been too long. You're looking amazing." Her nasal voice filters down the markets. "How are you, love?"

Astarion finally manages to break the hug, giving the woman an automatic flirtatious smile, the tailor long forgotten. "Eleanor, I've been well. I do hope the same can be said for you."

Dropping the beads with little care, you leave the stall, ignoring the halfling. You don't like this woman. You don't like how her hand still lingers on Astarion's forearm or how she leans ever so slightly closer as if daring him to kiss her.

"I've been fine, though I'm upset you haven't visited in quite a while. It's been rather dull without you." She runs her hand up his arm.

Astarion laughs, flicking his hand in the air and clearly enjoying the woman's words. "I could only imagine, my dear. Those brutes are fowl at their best. Who wouldn't miss me."

Your jaw clenches when her obnoxious laughter rings in the air. Pushing past a family of four throwing a half-ass apology, not paying mind, too pissed off. Who does this woman think she is putting her hands on Astarion as if he's hers?

"Astarion, you always knew how to make me laugh." Elenor ducks her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "If I'm being honest, I was always jealous of the ones you took home. But now that we're here, maybe…"

Oh, hell no! You practically jump the rest of the way and run into Astarion's arm. He lets out a breathy oof, arms tightening around your waist to keep you from tumbling to the ground. Pretending you weren't aware of the woman, you capture Astarion into a chaste kiss before beaming up at him.

"I hope you found what you were looking for, my love." Your voice is sickly sweet as you trail your thumb across his cheekbone. Then you turn your head and feign innocence, looking at the elf. "Oh, I'm sorry, Star. Who is this?"

Astarion gives you a look but recovers quickly. Clearing his throat, he speaks, "Darling, this is Eleanor. She owns a tavern I frequented. One of the only decent companies I've had before we met."

Moving away from Astarion's side, you reach your hand out in greeting, giving her your name, "It's a pleasure to meet a friend of my Star,"

Eleanor looks a bit taken aback, staring blankly at the two of you, clearly not expecting this change in her plans. You're internally preening. She takes your hand in a limp shake before dropping it and stepping back. Eleanor quickly wipes her hand on her dress slyly and chuckles.

"That explains why I haven't seen you in a while."

You sneer at her, wanting nothing more than to punch her. Instead, you drop your hand onto Astarion's chest, nuzzling warmly into his side. "Yes, sorry about that. I've been a bit selfish. Sometimes it hard to get out of bed."

"Right…" Eleanor says. Astarion, I never took you as one to settle down, especially someone as… unique as them."

"What is that supposed to mean?" The venom drips from your words, and Astarion has to keep you in place.

Eleanor smirks. "Oh, I meant nothing bad." The mocking tone alone reinforces that she meant this to be as insulting as possible. "I'm just stating you're rougher around the edges."

Astarion's hold on your waist tightens as you move to step forward, hand reaching for the dagger discreetly hidden against your thigh. There is no possible way this woman values Astarion in any way more than as a body to conquer. That thought alone has you practically baring your teeth.

"What the fuck does that mean!"

Astarion steps in before you can do anything extreme, "Eleanor, it was lovely seeing you again. We'll have to come and visit sometime for a drink, but I'm afraid my love and I must make our leave."

"Oh yes, of course!" Elenor says, her voice a bit too filled with fake cheer. Her smile is strained, and her eyes stare daggers into your skull. "I hope I can see you at the tavern sometime soon."

"Yes, we'll come down for a visit sometime soon. " Astarion calls over his shoulder, practically dragging you down the cobblestone. You think about ripping your arm out of his hold and turning back, but you let him pull you along with only a death glare sent toward Eleanor.

As soon as the two of you are in a secluded place, Astarion drops your hand and turns on you. "Darling, what was that?"

Picking at your nails, you shrug your shoulders. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Astarion takes your hand and, with a finger, tilts your chin to force you to meet his eyes. He has a shit-eating grin, and his fangs are even more prominent in his smile. "You were jealous."

Swatting his hands away, you step back. "I was not!" You lie and storm down the alleyway. You didn't get far before Astarion caught your wrist and spun you into his chest.

"You were jealous." He repeats. "But you really shouldn't be."

"She was all over you."

"It was a hug, my dear, from probably the closest normal friendship I had before the tadpole."

"Friendship? She was practically begging you to fuck her." You huff, fiddling with the lapels of Astarion's shirt.

Astarion chuckles deeply and presses a kiss to your forehead. "Gods, you're cute when you're jealous."

"Don't make fun of me, Astarion."

Ignoring you, he continues. "For argument's sake, if she was begging me to fuck her, as you so eloquently put it, who cares? I certainly don't, not when I have this beautiful, strong, incredibly understanding partner who knows all the darkest parts of me and still stands by my side?"

"Well, I am pretty noble for putting up with you when you're hungry." You smile, looping your arms around his neck, all jealousy draining from you like water from a colander.

"How could another soul handle me in that horrid state." Astarion runs his nose against yours. "I love you and don't plan on stopping soon."

You beam and kiss him breathlessly before mumbling, "I love you too," against his lips. "I think we should head back to our room."

Astarion chuckles under his breath, running his hands down the curve of your spine. "Oh, what for my sweet?"

"Well," Crawling your fingers up his chest, you press your lips to his ear and whisper. "If you'll let me, I want to mark every inch of your neck." "Mark me as yours, darling?" Astarion hums.

"Mhmm, we could go further, but" you continue. "Tonight, I want you to show me this tavern Eleanor owns. I think we deserve a date night."

"You are jealous."

"If I agree, will you take me out?" You lean in for a kiss.

Astarion presses forward, brushing his lips against yours. "As long as I have a necklace of your pretty love bites."

"Then yes, my love, I am very much jealous."

I've been struggling with inspiration lately. Moving was super stressful and I had to leave a hostile work environment very quickly so life's been a bit messy. But I've got my kitty cat and don't have to deal with a shitty boss so hopefully things will go up from here.

I'm kinda iffy on how I feel on this one but that might just be my current mindset. I hope you all enjoy it regardless, and stay tune because I plan on have something spicier posted soonish...possibly Astarion discovering his breeding kink 🫣❤️

Taglist: @heartfully10@ayselluna@marina-and-the-memes@anixson@canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr @lotusandcrystals @venussakura @synapticjive @skittleabyss@asterordinary@lariatbunny @whispering-depths@butchboi-chihuahua-slumlord@darkest-part-of-the-forest@queenofcarrotflowers-s@sessils @d20bunny@cherifrog@ophelia-ophelian@bgthree@darlingxdragon@mothynyx @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf@babyqnn @mmendez0124@kokoyu-art@lilah-asteria

Want to be added to the taglist? DM me please!

[gothcsz]

Mamita! Hojala que todo esta bien contigo! I have no idea if you’re taking mini requests pero I can’t stop thinking of Javier when I listen to Amarramé by Mon laferte 😭 Si no, esta bien I also wanted an excuse to talk you again! Con amor 😘

tags: f!reader, dirty talk (in english and spanish), no use of y/n, smut, unprotected p in v sex (be safe), oral (f), javi handcuffing you to your bed, hurt/no comfort kinda, fwb, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

~ 1.3k w/c - gif cred

a/n: hola bebita hermosa, gracias por dejarme este prompt y canción tan 🥵 i listened to it and immediately it gave me friends with benefits!javi energy and reminded me of the fact that this cabron carries two sets of cuffs on him... y como dice la canción: tómame del pelo y repíteme mi nombre, y ámame, pero sin querer. i hope you like it 🖤 cuidate nena y cualquiera vez que quieras hablar conmigo, nadamas mandame un dm 💋

“Stop fuckin' running.”

He growls it low and rough against your skin, biting down on your shoulder just hard enough to make you gasp, that delicious blend of pain and pleasure shooting down your spine. He's buried so deep inside you that it feels like he's touching your fucking heart.

It’s hard not to flail around like a fish out of water when each thrust is relentless, wild, like he's out to stake his claim right then and there, leaving you breathless and desperately clinging to every sensation.

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of hot, fast, dirty encounters in places you’d never imagine. The two of you never bother with beds, turning instead to dark corners, cramped car seats, the occasional bar restroom, even a closet at a friend’s house party—always fueled by a fierce need, never by softness.

But tonight is different. When he appeared on your doorstep, smelling of whiskey and impatience, you barely had time to catch your breath.

Sex with Javier was fucking amazing, the kind of chemistry that sticks in your bones.

He knew exactly what he was doing—a filthy mouth, hands that held you with just the right amount of force, and a delicious cock that hit every angle like it was his purpose. He went down on you because he loved it, his mouth a weapon of pure pleasure that left you wrecked.

He was dangerously close to perfect, if you could overlook the cocky attitude and that short fuse of his. Not that it mattered; you weren’t in this for a relationship. This was just pure, unapologetic indulgence, a mutual craving born out of that one forgettable party weeks ago that he’d somehow managed to make unforgettable.

You’re honestly not sure how the hell he managed to find out where you lived—but you barely had time to register his arrival before his lips were on yours, his hands already roaming, steering you backward until your shoulders hit the wall.

His mouth was urgent, trailing down your neck, hands lifting you as he sank to his knees with a look that dared you to stop him.

He lifted your thighs onto his broad shoulders, spreading you open, and didn’t waste a single second burying his face in your pussy, his tongue exploring every inch. He licked you slowly at first, savoring your taste, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking just hard enough to make you see stars, then lightly grazing his teeth against the swollen flesh, drawing gasps and cries from your throat.

He made you come like that not once but twice, each time rougher, more desperate, until you were clutching at his shoulders, hips rocking against his face. By the time he stood, cock hard enough to cut through those tight ass jeans of his, you were nothing but a willing mess, ready to take whatever he gave.

“Where’s your bed?”

Those were the first words he growled out since his hasty entrance, and you were so blissed out, half-dazed, that you nearly forgot where it was.

Barely catching your breath, you managed a breathy answer, and the way he moved—urgent, driven—had you wondering what set him off tonight. Before you could even form a coherent thought, he had your nightgown tugged off and tossed aside, his hands guiding you down onto the mattress with a roughness that left you trembling.

The sharp clink of his gun, badge, and cuffs hitting your nightstand sent a thrill through you. He undressed with a speed that made it clear he wasn’t in the mood to wait, and when he finally joined you on the bed, his weight and heat pressing against you made every nerve in your body hum with anticipation.

With no patience or gentleness he sheathed himself inside your cunt—just harsh intensity that made your mind go white-hot.

It was unlike any rhythm he’d set before, every thrust harder, deeper, driving into you with a force that bordered on desperate. Your eyes glazed over, tears blurring your vision as his grip on your hips tightened, leaving bruises you knew you’d feel tomorrow.

The sting from the hard spanks he’d landed on your ass burned deliciously, and every time his cock hit that unbearably sensitive spot inside you, you couldn't help but jerk forward, shattering his rhythm.

But the way he frustratingly growled your name each time you disrupted his pace only made it hotter.

After doing it too many times, Javier’s irritation finally spills over, and he pulls back abruptly, reaching for his set of cuffs. Your eyes go wide, and you try to push yourself up, words on the tip of your tongue to protest, but he moves too fast. In moments, the metal snaps around your wrist, then loops through one of the beams of your bed frame, before he clamps down your other wrist.

“Javier,” you manage, tugging at the cuffs, feeling the cold metal bite into your soft skin as you wince.

“¿Que?” He mocks, his tone drenched in condescension as he lets a smug pout play on his lips. “Want me to take 'em off? ¿Te duele?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, though, his hands finding your waist and yanking you back toward him, his cock sliding through your slick, swollen folds.

They do hurt, yeah, but you’re suddenly less angry and more turned on, trapped there, fully exposed and helpless in a way you hadn’t expected to like.

He doesn’t bother with gentleness, just sheaths himself back inside you, drawing a scream from your lips as his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back, forcing your back into a deep, sinful arch. Tears prick at your eyes as he fills you again, every inch of him overwhelming.

“Te sientes tan rica,” he groans, his words a low growl in your ear as he folds over you, pressing every inch of himself into your senses. “Pussy is so goddamn tight and wet, fuck, baby.” He rambles on, his words coming in hot waves that only half register, your mind hazy as your own orgasm looms—and your wrists throb against the cuffs, a mix of pain and pleasure blurring the line between frustration and desire.

Without warning, his fingers slip down to circle your clit, drawing a desperate yelp from you. He smirks, slickening two fingers with your arousal before forcing them into your mouth, pressing down until you gag. The strangled sound you make only turns him on more, his cock twitching hard inside you as he groans. “C’mon, give it to me. Fuck, I can feel how tight your greedy cunt is gettin’. She wants to come, doesn’t she?”

You choke out a muffled “yes” around his fingers, your mouth wet with saliva that dribbles down your chin.

He drags his damp fingers back down, finding your nipple, twisting it just hard enough to tip you over the edge. 

Your climax crashes through you, pulsing around his cock, locking him in, and he grits his teeth, fighting to hold back as your creamy release coats him, your throat raw from screaming his name.

The cuffs cut harshly into your wrists, leaving red marks you know will sting later.

With a rough groan, he pulls out just in time, releasing hot and thick across your ass, fingers still pressing into your tit as he rides out his own pleasure.

"Get these things off me,” you spit as soon as reality snaps back at you, blinking rapidly, disoriented in the rush of your comedown. “What the hell is your problem?”

Silent, he reaches for the key, unlocking you with a practiced motion, releasing each wrist as you rub your raw skin, the marks a testament to his roughness.

“Sorry.” His voice is curt, no warmth behind his words, as he gathers his clothes, already tugging them back on.

And before his cum has even dried, he’s halfway out the door, leaving you breathless and tangled in the aftermath of that unapologetic, maddening exit.

[ackermonie]

in a perfect world, you and satoru would get married. you would move into a bigger house, big enough for megumi and tsumiki and yuji and nobara and all the kids you wish you could just hide from the cruelty of this world. you would even have children of your own, away from the gojo clan and their obsession of who is going to inherit the six eyes next.

you always dreamt of a big kitchen with lots of natural sunlight. somewhere far, far away, somewhere you can properly take care of satoru in the way he deserves.

sometimes if your mind drifts far enough, you could almost taste how that feels. you could almost feel the sun on your skin, hear the voices of innocent laughter and running feet echo through the warmth of your home…

but this isn't a perfect world.

in this world, you just happen to be staring at the face-down pregnancy test on the counter. you are bent over on the sink, elbows planted on the counter, and you let your chin hit your chest. breathing is an impossible task.

it’s cold, dull as the worst of knives.

october 31st. you were supposed to be getting ready for the impromptu Halloween party everyone just decided to throw. but once again, since this is far, far away from the world you wish you lived in, you're right here, in one of jujutsu tech's bathrooms with a ticking time bomb within a hand's reach.

"it's probably nothing," shoko puffs out the smoke in her lungs one last time before stomping on her cigarette. "you said you always use protection. I don't think either of you would joke around about something like this."

"my period is four fucking weeks late." you mutter out, yanking on your hair in frustration. "a whole month. this never happened before."

you've been trying to ignore it for weeks, convincing yourself it's just the stress of everything that's going on; it happened before. a couple of weeks and you'd wake up to your uterus being angry at you again, but your breasts grow sorer. you grow cranky and angry and emotional, but you discarded this as another symptom of stress.

four weeks is a little too long.

shoko is quite worried herself, but she can't join your little panic attack. she's the only one you decided to trust with this, and as nonchalant as she usually is, seeing you in such a situation stirred something inside her.

even more so when she has just received a text that summons all hands on deck in shibuya. a text she's sure you're yet to see. a text she shouldn't be showing you until this situation is handled first.

"let's just see it," she steps forwards, a hand on your back for comfort. "whatever the result is."

"i can't have a fucking baby right now."

shoko's hand raises to your nape, giving you a comforting squeeze. she bends down to your level. you look at her.

"we can always get rid of it."

something twists in your chest at the thought, but it seems that this could be the only possible solution for such a situation. you can even do it without telling satoru, since he's been quite busy recently. this would only burden him even more.

"yeah," you nod, looking back down at the sink again. the thought is still running in your brain as you straighten up. you run a hand down your face, shaking your head as if to shake away the anxiety, and you finally reach for the test.

shoko watches as you pause. your chest heaves as you attempt to take deeper breaths, and before she can blink one more time, the test is in your hands.

the bathroom door opens, grabbing only shoko's attention.

"apologies, ladies," nanami's deep voice seems to echo in the breathless bathroom. "we need to go." he takes a step in hesitantly, gaze switching from shoko to your stiff frame. "something is happening in shibuya."

his words fail to be registered by your brain for a while. it takes you all your might to keep standing.

"fuck," you let out breathily.

shoko reaches for the stick in your hand, her stomach twisting at the little + sign on display.

she sighs. "fuck."

"what the hell is going on?" nanami advances towards you two, unable to locate the source of stress in the bathroom until shoko turns around, test in hand.

he stops in his tracks.

"i'm pregnant."

==========================

more?

[jaylver]

I WANNA BE YOURS — P.SH

synopsis: hiding your secret relationship with sunghoon from your brother, jay, proved to be quite a challenge. that was until you’ve had enough of it, and sunghoon had to prove himself that he wants to be yours.

pairings: non-idol!sunghoon x afab!reader

genre: brother's best friend au, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, romance, humour

warning(s): profanities, slight suggestiveness

wc: 1340

a/n: sorry for the inactivity (currently going insane) !! as promised, here's the hoon drabble, apologies in advance if it's lacking 😭 not my best work imo. will be back after tomorrow since it's my last paper (yay) so please wait for me hehe. as usual, feedbacks and reblogs are much appreciated ! love you all !

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

This was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Who said it would be a good idea to get involved with your brother's best friend? Nobody. Exactly. 

You found yourself somehow being tangled with Park Sunghoon ever since a party your brother and his friends held. He was only two years older than you and you've known him for practically your whole life. Your brother, Park Jong Seong, had known Sunghoon ever since they were kids, so he was definitely far from a stranger. 

Coming around your house almost every day, dinners during festivities, holding parties when your parents were out of town, Sunghoon's always there no matter what the occasion was. It didn't help that he was nice to you too. Constantly giving you friendly smiles and acknowledging you when your brother chased you away during their 'bro time', he was a sweetheart.

Eventually, you knew you were in hell once you discovered your teeny tiny crush on Sunghoon was real and existing. To be fair, he was gorgeous, paired with an even prettier personality. 

Yet, Jay was there to cockblock you and stop your chances. Look, he's a great brother to you, but he made it clear that you were 'off-limits', whatever that was. You couldn't believe it either. 

Being the typical little sister, it was natural to defy your big brother and do exactly what he told you not to.  Unbeknownst to him, you've gone behind his back and got with one of them. That explained why Sunghoon being in your room was wrong, especially when he's in your bed.

"Fuck—what about Jay?" You rasped out in between kisses, feeling the touch of his lips travelling down your throat.

Sunghoon groaned, his hands on your waist tightened momentarily. "He's not going to know I'm in here. I snuck in from your window anyway,"

"He can suddenly barge in,"

"You have your doors locked,"

Those words might seem nonchalant, but it was more than what it meant. 

The times he's spent in your room, knowing each and every part of it, the crevices of your sheets to the feeling of your skin on his. It wasn't just something simple. Neither was the fact of your door always being locked.

"I–I don't know," you suddenly turned uncertain, pushing yourself up and having him stop. 

"Hm? Are you okay? Something's up?" His face morphed into a look of concern, worried at your abrupt change in emotions.

"It's just—" you sighed, not knowing how to approach it, "I wish we could be honest to Jong. I don't want to sneak around anymore, Hoon, it almost feels like you want to keep me a secret,"

"I don't, Y/N, I would never want that," he ran a hand through his hair, proceeding to take yours in his. "I want to be with you, hell, I want to tell everyone that. I wanna be yours,"

"But? What even are we?"

Right, you got to the question that everyone feared.

"Your brother. I don't know when I can do it,"

Frustration etched deeper into your face. "Hoon, if you don't know when you'll do it, then maybe, maybe, you just don't want me like that, or that you're scared to admit your actual feelings and continue to toy me around,"

"No—"

"Goodnight, Sunghoon."

You turned over onto your side, frowning deeply. It was time for him to set his shit right, and he was going to have to figure it out himself. 

The next few times you saw Sunghoon after that night was when he came over to hang out with your brother. He has been texting you, to which you reciprocated dryly. He even got you flowers, your favourite snacks and even waited for you outside your bedroom door, but all of that wasn't enough for you to forgive him.

Why couldn't he just tell Jay the truth? If it was you, you would've already said it, but since Sunghoon was reluctant, you didn't. This was frustrating.

What's more frustrating was having Sunghoon seated next to you at the dinner table during dinner. You could feel him casting glances at you, nervousness emitting from his body quite obviously. 

You were acting nonchalant, almost too nonchalant that it even had Jay casting glances between you and his jittery best friend. However, he said nothing.

"Hoon, pass the salad to Y/N," your brother said from Sunghoon's side, nudging him. You glanced up at the mention of your name, meeting Sunghoon's slightly widened eyes and confused stare. 

"I—uh—here," he took the bowl and passed it to you, chewing the insides of his mouth. 

How could you be mad at him when he looked like that? Sunghoon's starry eyes that never failed to soften your heart, the moles that decorated his face which you've traced in the night when he was asleep, he was your Sunghoon, or so you thought. 

"Thanks," you said softly, offering a smile that he warmly reciprocated. 

As you took the bowl from him, you felt the feather-like touch of his fingers grazing against yours, sending electricity up your senses. You locked eyes with him again, this time an equal want and pining evident in both your gazes.

He was the first to cough and retreat his hold on the bowl. You were snapped out of your momentary daze and also let out an awkward cough, scooping the salad into your bowl to shake off the feeling he gave you just now.

Once dinner was over, you took the very first chance to escape back upstairs, heart beating quicker the way up, and there was probably a reason for your anxiety. Sunghoon.

"Y/N," almost as fast as he had popped into your mind, he appeared behind you, probably followed you up. He got a hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks and you turned around, mouth slightly agape. "I figured we should … talk,"

You took in his words, nodding slowly. "We should,"

"I'm sorry," he said without any hesitation, a hint of desperation laced in both his gaze and voice. "I was wrong for not putting a label on our relationship, I should've treated you better, you're everything to me. My heart wouldn't stop beating whenever I see you, you've completely bewitched me, you've drove me insane,"

Sunghoon heaved in a breath, stepping closer. "Secrets I've held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought. I told everything to Jay,"

"You—what?"

"I did. I realised what you said was right and I told him. He's cool with it, Y/N," Sunghoon smiled, and it was the same smile he only had whenever he's around you. 

"Really?"

"Really," he intertwined your fingers with his, pulling you close. "I wanna be yours, Y/N. You have my deep devotion, always,"

"Gosh, I want you to be mine—need you. I like you, a lot, like crazy a lot. I wanna be yours too,"

"You genuinely drive me insane," he leaned in close, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, his lips edging closer. "Tell me if I can kiss you, pretty girl,"

He's kissed you many times, but this round, it hits differently. "You can,"

It didn't take Sunghoon another second before crashing his lips onto yours. He was pouring his pent up frustration, angst, desperation, and love into his kiss, almost kissing you as if there was no tomorrow.

As things escalated, you pushed him into your room, letting him spend the night where he smoothly asked you to be his girlfriend, which you agreed to, duh. 

All was well between you and Sunghoon. You even got together and started planning out dates. It was meant to be.

On the other hand, Jay spent the night with music blasting in his ears. He had already suspected something between you and his best friend, but to find out it had been happening for months? It was shocking. But, he wasn't opposed to it.

He just has to make sure to close his eyes whenever you two are around together. Couples, ew.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

☆ permanent taglist (open):

@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey

[kayjaywrites]

Like Bugs in a Rug Chapter 2.5

Bonus Chapter

Previous Chapter

NOTE: Although this bonus chapter could be read by itself, I think it will hit so much harder if you at least read Chapter Two beforehand. Don't remember what happened last? Don't worry about it, this is a series of one shots, so you can basically pick-up and read in whatever order.

Story Summary: Azriel Shadowsinger, mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, was head over heels in love with you for years. Everyone in the room could see it, except for you of course. A series of connected one-shots.

Chapter Word Count: 2,100 Words Chapter Music Inspo: LMS - Aislinn Davis (Does this song super relate to the chapter? Not really, but kinda if you squint. I don’t always get to choose what songs inspire me to write, and for whatever reason, this one did it for this chappy.)

XxXx

Azriel’s POV

Azriel didn’t knock. He waltzed into Rhysand’s office with swift authority. In a few long strides he was at Rhysand’s desk before the door had time to drift shut behind him. The small amount of self-restraint Azriel had maintained during his flight to The House of Wind vanished at the sight of the asshole, his fury vibrating with the need for release. He so rarely embraced the part of himself that craved such brutish violence, but as he advanced on Rhysand he tossed his gloves to the floor. He needed to feel this.

Rhysand didn’t have time to fully look up from his task. His pen was still in the middle of scribbling his signature on some paperwork when Azriel leaned over the desk and took a fist full of the front of his tunic into one hand.

He yanked the High Lord up from his chair so hard the fabric made a tearing noise. He drew Rhysand into an awkward half standing, half crouched position, holding fast as he loomed over him. Much to Azriel’s annoyance, Rhysand only seemed mildly taken aback by Azriel’s crass arrival, the bastard was expecting him.

Rhysand’s typical air of nonchalance had never bothered him in the way it did now. It was disgusting, how he could jeopardize something so precious to Azriel, and then chose fucking paperwork over trying to fix it.

He sneered in Rhysand’s face. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Hey, hey.” Rhysand tried to straighten, but Azriel didn’t give an inch. Rhysand reached a hand for Azriel’s wrist instead, as if to protect his fancy tunic from ripping further. Azriel fixed Rhysand with a scowl that promised harsh violence if he touched him, so Rhysand let his hand fall.

Maybe the High Lord hadn’t completely lost his mind, had a little self preservation instinct left in him after all.

“Az, I’m going to apologize, you don’t need to do this.”

Don’t need to do this? The cold rage clouding Azriel’s mind said otherwise. He barely registered his blue siphons flashing as his shadows rose up behind him, dangerous and menacing just like him. He pulled Rhysand closer, the thread along the collar of the tunic fraying, their faces now inches apart as he looked down at Rhysand with blatant revulsion.

The scent of your tears lingered in Azriel’s nose like you were still falling apart in his arms. For as long as he lived, Azriel would remember what it felt like to see your confidence and hope flicker like a dying flame when all he could offer you was his embrace. It wasn’t enough, he knew that, and it made him feel so helpless. All Azriel wanted was for you to feel like you belonged here, with the Inner Circle, with him.

And they had made damned good progress too, it was slow, but he could tell that you were warming up to the idea of trusting the Inner Circle. Until this dick went and fucked it all up.

So yeah. He did need to do this.

“I fucked up,” Rhysand rushed out, his violet eyes seemed to take in every twitch of Azriel’s face, reading the unspoken threat for what it was, “I’m not saying I don’t deserve this. I’m saying that I already agree with you, I went too far, and I will apologize.”

Azriel huffed an exhale, nostrils flaring. You’d been so distraught, so emotionally and physically exhausted that you fell asleep a few minutes into the flight to Mor’s apartment. You’d never admitted as much, but he knew you had a bit of a phobia of heights, it’s why he never pressured you to fly with him. He had dreamed of the first time he’d take to the sky with you, planned out each scenario, wondered how you’d look the first time you saw Velaris from above. He’d always imagined your face to be alight with wonder.

If he had any reservation about confronting Rhysand, it vanished by the time he entered Mor’s apartment. You didn’t even stir when he laid you down on Mor’s bed. He considered returning to The House of Wind while you were asleep, but the idea of you waking up here alone kept him rooted to your side. He sat on the bed next to you while he waited for Mor to return home, he knew she would take good care of you, she took her duty as a newly discovered older sister very seriously. He found himself absentmindedly smoothing your mused hair from your face. Using his gloved fingers to wipe away dried tear tracks from your cheeks. He was unable to stop comparing the peaceful expression you wore in your sleep to the heartbreak he’d seen while on the stairs.

The room was silent, but his mind was loud as he spiraled, thoughts fixated on how he'd failed you. Had Rhysand sent him away to Windhaven first thing in the morning on purpose, to set him up for failure? Were there really any rumors of an uprising in the camp? Azriel hadn't found any, and it seemed like a mighty convenient distraction.

By the time Mor arrived home he was visibly seething with no concept of how much time had actually passed while he waited. He barely greeted her, gesturing to your sound asleep form on the bed as he made his exit. 

Of course, Azriel was furious on your behalf, but that wasn’t what triggered the bloodlust, not completely. He was supposed to protect you, mind and body, and he failed you so spectacularly. He’d assumed that Rhysand had similar intentions, had fully trusted him to protect you while he was away. He would never be so foolish again, he just hoped that you’d stick around long enough to see that.

What if the damage Rhysand dealt couldn’t be smoothed over by a mere apology.

Studying Rhysand now, he seemed so certain that he could smooth this over. He didn’t seem remotely sorry enough for Azriel’s taste. His free hand clenched into a tight fist, something eerily similar to hatred bubbled in him like acid. If Rhysand didn’t feel guilt or remorse for what he’d done to you, then he certainly didn’t care how his actions impacted him either. 

Azriel meet his chosen brother’s beseeching stare with contempt as he spoke, words sharp as they left his lips. “When Feyre was first adjusting to the Night Court, I did everything I could to make her feel comfortable and welcome because one way or the other, I knew she was important to you. That made her important to me too. Well before she became my high lady.”

Something defensive surfaced in Rhysand at the thinly veiled accusation. “Are you implying that I don’t care about my own cousin?”

“No,” Azriel snapped back, “I’m implying that you don’t care about me. How dare you speak to her like that knowing exactly what she means to me.”

Rhysand inhaled sharply through his teeth, fixing Azriel with a stern frown, as if he was the one disappointed in him. “I am the High Lord, Azriel, how many times must I remind you that my duty to my Court has to trump the comfort of those in my Inner Circle? She would have had to face Kier eventually, as you know, he thinks she’s spying on us for him. Was I supposed to risk a civil war because she wasn’t prepared?” Rhysand’s calculating eyes were hard as he paused for a moment, as if considering his next sentence carefully, “Just like how I expect you to make uncomfortable choices for the sake of the Court, I expect her to do what must be done to protect the Court as well. That is what it takes to be a part of my Inner Circle."

At one point, referencing the confrontation with Rhysand after getting caught canoodling with Elain would have sent him over the deep end. That conversation marked the first time he truly questioned the depth of Rhysand’s compassion for those in his Inner Circle. Even if Rhysand had been right in the long run, the cold way in which he handled it did not settle well with Azriel. For the sake of his family, not the Court, he had backed down and buried the resentment he felt towards Rhysand. It had seemed worth it, to see Elain and Lucien so happy, and Azriel was finding his own happiness too.

Again, Azriel’s siphons blazed. Rhysand could walk all over him as much as he liked, he’d lived through worse well before he’d met him. But he wouldn’t let Rhysand treat you like that even again. You deserved so much better, especially from your High Lord. “Being the fucking High Lord does not give you the right to be an asshole. You know she already struggled with feeling out of place among us, you didn’t have to confirm her worst fears to get her to cooperate.”

“I know!” Rhysand snapped, trying a bit harder to pull away from Azriel and straighten to his full height, a warning gleaming in his eyes when Azriel didn't yield. He’d sooner rip the tunic all the way down the front than let Rhysand stand tall right now.

“I knew she would push back,” Rhysand continued, sounding offended. Good. “I knew I would have to be more stern with her than I’ve ever been before. I had a plan, but hadn’t accounted for what her magic would feel like when it went on the offensive. I didn’t know it could go on the offensive, I don’t think she knew she was doing it, she zoned out for about a couple minutes in the middle of the argument, totally unresponsive and just blankly staring at me. I couldn’t penetrate her mental shields at all. Her magic protected her from my own fiercely. I wasn’t ready, and my magic took the bait, I lost control of the situation. I’m going to apologize to her, Az. I’m going to explain myself.”

Azriel searched Rhysand’s face for any sign of deception, growing cross with Nesta and Mor for not mentioning the odd behavior earlier. Tense seconds of silence passed as Azriel processed the new information. Rhysand stayed stock still, unwavering under Azriel’s scrutiny. Jaw clenched, he filed this development under ‘suspicious’. He’d agonize over it when he was thinking clearer.

Exhaling a stressed breath, he unclenched the fist at his side. His other hand remained curled in Rhysand’s tunic, unwilling to release him quite yet.

“If she leaves because of this, I do too.” If Azriel’s intentions shocked Rhysand, the High Lord didn’t show it.

Hoisting Rhysand up until he stood up straight, Azriel made sure to tear the fabric down the front a good couple inches for good measure. “Fix. This. Rhys.” With that, Azriel shoved Rhysand away, releasing the collar of the tunic as the High Lord stumbled backwards, the back of his knees bumping into his office chair and toppling it over.

Azriel had nothing left to say to the other male, yet he was still wound so tight. Icy fury and hot protectiveness rushed through him like adrenaline as he turned his back to the High Lord, retreating to the door. 

This hadn’t made him feel better at all.

 Just as he was about to leave the room, as silent and quick as he arrived, he paused. “Meet me at the training grounds in 20 minutes.” He ordered, casting a challenging look to Rhysand over his shoulder, daring him to correct him for ordering his High Lord around.

When Rhysand remained passive, Azriel added. “Don’t make me come and get you.”

Then he clicked the office door closed behind him, making a beeline for the training grounds. He could sense his shadows scrambling to catch up with him. They’d loitered in Rhysand’s office a few seconds longer than him, and he almost reprimanded them for it. But then one of his bigger shadows materialized, curling down his arm to place his discarded gloves in his waiting palm. He dismissed the shadow, not quite with praise, but thankful nonetheless as he tucked the gloves into a vacant pocket in his leathers. It would have irked him if he had to ask Rhysand for them back, after he threw them to the floor in such a dramatic display only to not throw a single punch.

He’d get those punches in soon though, and he was going to enjoy every single one with bare hands. Then, he would focus his attention on what really mattered, supporting you. One day, he hoped to prove to you that you had people right here who would choose you over their Court every damned time.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

XxXx

Like Bugs in a Rug Tag List: @f4iry-bell @jediknightjana @microwaveallthedemons olive-main @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @5onedirection5 @lilah-asteria @witchymomfrien @landofpetrichor @quinzzelx @tsibba01 @brieflyclassymortal @hauntedstudentobservationus

[angels-sins0]

i beg you to continue with this fic of ghost, i want reader to gain some strength and make something 😭

Ghost x f!reader

Cw: I apologize in advance, emotionally (un)available Simon, age gap relationship (Simon is depicted in his late 30’s and the reader is around 21), older man!Ghost, young & naive!reader, slight spoilers for MWIII, brief mention of a developing alcohol addiction, hurt/no comfort, angst, screaming and crying, please don’t kill me for this.

Six months had passed since you last saw Simon. Truth be told, you’ve never felt better than you do right now.

You had moved out of your apartment three months ago after getting a promotion at your job, earning more money than you ever thought of having.

Life was good without him. You didn’t have to worry about getting your feelings hurt anymore.

Simon on the other hand, had been going through the worst months of his life.

He lost a good friend of his while on a mission which resulted in him frequenting the bar close to his house more than he’d like to admit.

Work was hard then and it was even harder knowing he couldn’t see you or hear your soft voice again.

He hated whatever it is he felt when he thought about you and the last time you were together. He despised himself for the way he treated you.

He missed your sweet laugh and the way your eyes lit up each time you saw him even if he proceeded to ruin you moments later.

What was it about you that made him feel weird inside whenever he thought of you? If only he felt that way when you were still with him.

Simon felt like he saw you everywhere around him, like you were with him no matter what he did. It was a strange feeling at first but he had learned to succumb to the comfort it brought him.

It didn’t help that you were the main star in his dreams more often than not. Whether it be dreams where he fought harder to have you back in his life or him fucking you in your bed, a guilty part of him enjoyed the latter.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to see you, had to look at your face one more time, hold you in his arms and never let you go again.

Simon stood in his apartment and contemplated if he actually wanted to do this.

What if you didn’t want to see him?

What if he was too late and you had found someone who treated you the way you deserved?

He had to try, right? Sure he would be hurt if you didn’t want him anymore but at least he would have some kind of closure.

And so, he made his way to your new place. He had gotten the address from Laswell but not before she made some snarky comment about him finally “getting laid”.

Simon knocked on your door and stood looking down at his feet.

Then you opened the door and he swore his heart could’ve popped out of him at that moment.

“Hey,” he breathed out, but you just stood there, rendered completely speechless by the fact that he was actually in front of you.

“H-how did you find me?” You said after a few moments of silence.

“I’ve got my ways.” He said plainly. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do.

Should you let him in?

All the while, you both just stared at each other.

“Do you want to…?” What the hell do people even say in these situations?

“Only if you want me to.”

And so, you moved to let him in, closing the door behind you and leading him to sit on the couch.

It was awkward. You didn’t even look at each other, just sat there in silence.

“Why are you here, Simon?” You asked. Why the hell would he show up now?

“I’ve been…thinking a lot about where we left things off.” He looked at you and you nodded slowly at his words.

“And?”

“And I think— I know I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve the way I treated you.” He sighed, and you stared at him, dumbfounded.

“It took you six months to figure that out?” You didn’t know what it was exactly that made you so angry. Was it his audacity to show up after all that time and think you’d be okay with it?

Simon went quiet again.

You stood up from the couch. “Do you have any idea what it’s been like for me the entire time you were away? How long I spent crying over something that wasn’t real? We had nothing! And i still felt like you were everything to me…even when I knew you’d never feel that way about me. Did you really think that—I would…let you in again after all this time?”

You couldn’t help the sob that escaped you, covering your face with your hands to wipe away your tears so he couldn’t see them.

He got up as well, slowly approaching you and he gently pulled you into his arms. You reluctantly relaxed into him, the tears still falling from you.

“I’m sorry for making you feel like this…I wish I was better—i want to be better…” Simon cupped your face with one hand, the other still wrapped around you and placed his forehead on yours.

With your eyes still closed, you hadn’t realized he’d lifted his mask up above his mouth. Your faces were impossibly close and he leaned in to connect your lips together in a kiss.

You felt like you were being controlled by something and it made you kiss him back, even when part of you wanted to push him away.

It went on for a couple of seconds before you eventually pulled back and stared at him.

“Is this what you’re really here for?” You said, voice laced with a hint of anger.

“No! Fuck, no! I wanted to calm y’down and it just happened.”

“I wanna be better and i wanna make you happy but most of all I want you to forgive me for how things were between us.” He was almost pleading, his eyes searching yours for any emotion.

You couldn’t help but scoff.

“All these words…and you still kissed me with your mask on, what does that tell you, Simon?”

He stayed silent. “It tells you that no matter what we have, you’ll never be able to feel like you can let your guard down around me.”

“But i-“

“And if we really decide to do this, what happens when you think i’m not enough or when you feel like you don’t want me anymore? How the hell am I supposed to be okay with that?! It took me six months to start feeling better even though what we had was nothing!”

“You are enough! For fuck’s sakes, you are all I’ve ever wanted!”

“Then show me who you are! I’m never gonna be able to love you if I don’t fucking know you, Simon!”

“You know I can’t do that…”

“Well, then you have your answer…” You looked down, not wanting to see his face anymore.

But he couldn’t look away from you, part of him knowing this was the last time he’d ever see you so he wanted to memorize everything about you.

“I think you should go.” You said, breaking the silence between you. “Please don’t try to come here again.”

You looked up at him and for the first time since you’ve known him, Simon looked hurt. You couldn’t help but feel a pang in your heart at the sight of him standing there, trying to salvage whatever this was but ultimately failing.

“Right…”

“I’m sorry for everything I did to you.” Were the last words he spoke before leaving.

On his way home, he had this weird feeling in his chest that he couldn’t explain, it made him realize why he was always so closed off and why he never tried to have something with someone.

Simon has always had this unexplainable fear of being rejected and left alone, and tonight, you invoked that fear further into him.

He had two thoughts that kept circling through his head.

He was never going to love again.

And the second one that pained him every time he would think about it.

You were gone and there was nothing he could do about it.

@ghost-is-my-bbg , @evehasdied , @darlingvinny , @dragonstoneshortcake , @dest-nai , @imhereforthespice , @graciewacey , @annoyinglysweetobject , @7thsthings , @kaa212 , @rorylover71 , @deareststhings , @dxrak , @ghostslillady , @kazuhyahs , @spookyboogyuniverse , @dangelus , @kenz-ee , @goodkittyspost , @puppybittingotherpuppy , @skulfan1 , @prttylilkittn , @emmalandry , @justgivingupsblog , @simpforfic , @ciggsaftersex , @massiveduckkidcookie , @c3r3al-k1ll3r887 , @riverbutghost , @spxctorslxxt , @marriedtoeddie , @delightfulwolflawyerfreak-blog , @sixxslut , @ghostslittlegf , @tf141glory , @ghostswife141 , @prazinos , @toastedkjeks , @naio-kummer , @sunsetsimon , @livingdead-g1rl , @chimochai , @yo1mamma , @loving-azerath , @lanadelreygirly777

[jazzyblusnowflake]

Alright, we've had Nuzi headcanons. We've now had Vuzi headcanons... Let's heart it, you're Violent Biting Biscuits headcanons, N x Uzi x V... Or if you'd rather complete the set, eNVy headcanons. I am curious of both. (Your headcannons are just super cute)

Holy hecc, I'm so sorry for answering these asks so late but i'm gonna be honest- I just never think anyone likes my writings or ever reads them XD

okay then lets see- my ViolentBitingBiscuits headcanons- i will put eNVy for the next ask because someone else asked for it too and they wont all fit here lol.

My NUziV headcanons ovo<3 :

[once again these are only the drone versions, the human versions aren't involved / also i may add some 🔞🔞🔞 ones this time lol >:3 also uhhh apologies in advance but this one is long as all hell so....um]

K we know the drill, they are all together- hopefully in the future- even if any of them dies i'm gonna pretend i do not see 🙄 deadass gonna treat this like the jjba fandom- my faves are ALIVE AND WELL SHUT UP ARAKI-

Okay so there's some things that we have already mentioned in the previous headcanons- ill try to not repeat them unless they are necessary but ill also try to treat this as its own post and lightly repeat them real quick too-

N and V started out fighting over Uzi, and Uzi obviously was mostly into N at first- but after a while i guess Vs advances got to her- especially since she was- in a way- so desperate for attention/affection, so it felt a little overwhelming to her but in a good way. they very obviously flirted with her which got them silently treating it as a challenge- and Uzi being Uzi obviously loved the attention she got out of it- opting to let this just... kinda continue lmao. she didn't expect to let it go far enough for her to end up with both of them but here we are XD

We slightly touched this topic before about V but to reiterate- all of them have different levels of trauma that they all deal with and currently V has gone through the worst of it, both having to endure Cyn's torture in her mindspace and also having to watch N get slaughtered in front of her and possibly even having a hand in it. She fears losing people that mean to her so she became avoidant with a difficult personality to guard whatever's left of her. It took a really long time for her to decide to be with the two and to protect them and not run away from her feelings for anyone or anything. but some days its still difficult for her so sometimes N and Uzi have to literally trap her into a wrestling cuddle pile or something to get her to just... exist, without feeling like the whole universe is weighing her down. N and Uzi want her to know they are there to protect HER from those inner demons too.

sometimes the cuddle piles end up with N and V once again trying to get Uzi's attention lmao which ends up with them being a little too horny on main- whoops :) - everything starts with a little nibble here, a small bite there - maybe some pillow fights and climbing over eachother or holding one another down in different positions- aaaand then they wake up a few hours later with Uzi having regrets cuz these two are horny as f-

ANYWAY- N is probably the most patient of the 3, and although he usually never breaks up fights because he trusts the other two to handle their own problems without him needing to mom them, sometimes Uzi and V go a lil too far and he gets very tired of dealing with this kind of behavior. he never blows up at them- but he usually goes away to take a breather- sometimes hanging out with Thad or the other drones- and during this time Uzi and V kinda feel bad- but then they would think of stuff like maybe planning dates or getting food for him, draw stuff on cards and etc- or go around trying to find gifts to make him happy<3 sometimes they might add some extra kisses and unwinding sessions in the end as an extra treat :p N always forgives them obviously, he just needs some guys night out every once in a while or something lmao-

Getting close to Uzi became an excuse for N and V to get closer to eachother too. ironically, it first started with them bantering about who is better at what- but then it turned into unironically flirting and teasing eachother- but after a while they realized their relationship isn't going to ever be the same as what it was back in their old days but its also something completely new, so they become more willing to accept one another and explore their newer dynamic.

they all love being coddled and pampered every now and then. Uzi and V may not outright admit it- but they really do too. so they take turns with who they put in the middle of receiving affection :p

N and V are VERYYYYYY over protective of Uzi. to the point that they wouldn't even let the doctor [for tech repair obviously] check Uzi or touch her in any way when she had a small virus case lol. Khan had to pay the poor doctor extra for that.... deciding to leave his daughter in her room in a cuddle pile of two murderous demons that have glowing cat eyes every time he comes in the room smh.

V and N really like cuddling Uzi and sticking their hands under her clothes. or sometimes just flat out sleeping or cuddling naked. its less of a sexual thing and more so to do with the fact that the two MD's have higher body temperature and a less efficiant body for cooling- since they have a more compact torso and a lot less oil and coolant fluids going through them [since they need to consume it continuously] and having a bunch of working nanobots and nanites shoved into them to turn into weapons/wings/etc- and Uzi- although having the AS- is still very much less in need of cooling due to still having a more efficient body design for a "exoplanetary worker unit", with a still functioning cooling system inside that doesn't necessarily need extra oil to make it work unless under stressful conditions.... even if she probably does have worms and fleshy tentacles inside her now lmao. But either way Uzi's body is still a lot colder than the others so she's usually shared in the middle and at this point Uzi cant even be embarrassed when they slide their hands under her clothes and grab her wherever smh..... although V also does it as a semi possessive thing so there's that pfft. she was especially handsy after that doctor left XDDD.

Yes Uzi has very much in fact ended up at the medical/tech repair unit multiple times because N and V have sometimes ended up being a bit too much for her to handle- and the doctor [a character yall shall meet later] has absolutely had it. She had to literally sit the 3 down, explain to them their body differences via scans and the damages they may cause Uzi and it was basically the robot version of having "the talk" with your child- and Uzi wanted to die there and then.

Uzi sometimes just tells the two to drink blood from her- the first time they wanted to share oil they were scared about accidentally causing Uzi to overheat- but after a few times of trying it, they continued doing it more frequently either by kissing and regurgitating or taking turns to bite Uzi or vice versa. N and V typically don't use one another's oil because they already have high usage as it is, it wouldn't be efficient. admittedly N and V always have concerns when it came to biting Uzi- but somehow they found out Uzi actually enjoys it a little when they do it and well...they get ideas lmao- they just make sure to lick her indents clean with their regenerative saliva to make the AS work as little as possible on Uzi's body.

N really enjoys seeing his partners smooch..... for study purposes ofc lmao- actually he uses his visor to take pictures sometimes- let the man be a little horny in peace smh. and don't worry Uzi and V know all this- they just wanna tease him a little bit :p

Uzi and N usually chit chat while they are in the bed until they fall asleep- but V prefers to just hug Uzi on the side listening to them while they talk until she falls asleep too

they love going around in human based areas with shops and stuff to find books to read together or any other fun human stuff they can find- maybe table top games? lol- V goes for the sports stuff. she kinda wanna try hitting something with a bat...

[okayyyy so tumblr doesn't let me write any more XD i def have more ideas but oh well. also ill save the eNVy for another ask that i have in my inbox so you'll get that soon too :p]