#banners from @cafekitsune

[maeveontherun]

UID: OHMYMAEVE CLORINDE WISH? ( 𖢻 )

SHADOW HUNTER, MAEVE ; she / her ✧ 9teen ✧ black ✧ dilf luvr ✧ chappell roan enthusiast

【 STATUS 】 — lurkin & stalking when you least expect it

current fixations — ; ARCANE

DNI !! do not interact if loustat anti, racist, ableist, homophobic, proshipper, sexist / misogynist,

[xxsabitoxx]

Stay Quiet

Yuta x Fem! Reader Smut / characters are 18+

Warnings: semi-public sex, hotel sex, sex with someone else sleeping in the room, titty worship, raw sex, creampies, squirting

A/N: Baby boy is backkkkkk _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): since I feel like I’ve forgotten how to write smut… here is a smut imagine :D

Word count: 1.7k

“Y-yuta~”

Your back is arching into him, hand slapping over your mouth to try and suppress your whimpers. Your boyfriend isn’t listening to your quiet pleas, his head under your shirt, his lips wrapped around one of your nipples.

His only response is stopping his sucking to bite instead, earning a sharp cry from your lips that you quickly try and smother. Beside you, the bed is rustling as Inumaki tosses and turns in his sleep.

Not even a vacation with long time friends in a shared hotel room with two beds would stop Yuta from having his way with you. So long as you kept quiet…

“Yuta please…” you begging him, tone soft but labored as his hand tightened its grip on your side. Still, he didn’t respond, mouth far too preoccupied to speak.

You could only imagine the mess he was making, littering your skin in bruises and saliva to make you his. He’s always adored your breasts, both in the sexual and non-sexual sense. Sometimes he just needed to hold them, other times he needed to fuck them.

You never complained, not when he worshiped you the way he did… the way he was right now.

You could feel your eyes threatening to roll back, his tongue flicking at the sensitive bud as his thigh pressed further to your covered cunt. You were soaked, Yuta could feel the dampness through your night shorts as they pressed into his bare thigh.

Yuta left your breast alone, kissing the bruises he left before turning his head to the one he had been neglecting. It sent a whole new wave of pleasure through you, hand pressing to your mouth tighter as you couldn’t contain your whine.

He nipped at your skin, just hard enough to leave teeth indents that would turn into pretty bruises.

Your hips jerked as he bite down on your nipple, pain and pleasure making you clench around nothing. Your cunt dragged along his thigh, too many layers separating you to gain any real satisfaction from the friction.

“A-at least fuck me, Yuta.” You begged him, hand slotting back over your mouth as he sucked your neglected nipple. Still, you were left with no response, nothing but his hips jerking against your abdomen told you that he had heard your quiet plea.

You felt him, hard and heavy resting on your abdomen, straining in his briefs. If it weren’t for the sheer amount of body heat from being under the covers, you’d have been able to to feel the wet patch forming on the front of him.

Yuta indulged himself further, practically moaning as his hips rolled against you. “N-not fair.” You breathed, one of your hands coming down to rest on top of his head, not able to reach his hair since he was protected by your shirt. “So hot… Yuta I’m hot…”

You knew it was useless, he wasn’t going to stop anything he was doing until he was good and ready.

You could feel it though, your skin was starting to turn slick with sweat. So was Yuta’s, but that didn’t seem to phase him at all. Not when he was lathering your breast with his tongue and whining as he rut his hips against your abdomen.

So needy yet so controlling.

It was a dizzying mix, being completely at his mercy.

Your hips rolled against his thigh, trying to create some sort of relief since he was purposely ignoring you. Three rolls of your hips and Yuta’s grip was tightened, stopping you from moving all together as he released your nipple with a soft pop.

“So fucking needy.”

He practically seethed, pulling his head out from under your shirt to glare at you. “M-me?” You whisper yelled, face warm from anger and need. “Yes you.” Yuta shot back, the anger on his face didn’t concern you.

Not when you could feel his cock twitching.

“We’re both needy, you’re just mean, Yuta.” Your lip wobbled, head turning to look at the other hotel bed. Inumaki had seemed to settle into a deep sleep, back facing the two of you.

“Eyes on me.”

You shivered involuntarily, head turning back to face Yuta in record time. “If I fuck you, you need to keep quiet.” You nodded eagerly, but Yuta wasn’t satisfied.

“Promise me you’ll stay quiet.” You felt your breathing stop, taking a moment to start again as you quietly whispered “I promise.” Yuta still seemed skeptical.

“I still don’t believe you.” He mumbled as he began pulling down his briefs, just enough for his cock to spring free. “Yuta I mean it.” You whined, hands rushing to yank your sleep shorts and panties off for him.

“You’re never quiet, pretty girl.” Warmth flooded you, causing you to suck your lip between your teeth as your hips raised. Yuta helped you despite scolding you, tossing the two clothing items off to the side.

“If you can’t stay quiet, I’ll stop.”

You nodded, taking your vow to silence literally as his fist wrapped around his cock. Your legs spread further to accommodate him, cunt throbbing with the desire for him to be inside of you.

“Tell me you understand, pretty girl.”

He froze just as he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you further by prolonging what you needed. “I understand, Yuta.” And he pressed in, watching your mouth fall open as your chest rose and froze.

You were good, holding in the moan that was threatening to burst your lungs as he sunk deep. Your cunt had no resistance, swallowing his cock whole as he bottomed out inside of your tight heat. “Good girl.” He groaned.

Your hands found their way to his biceps, nails digging into his muscles as your legs locked around his hips. You managed to exhale the breath you had been holding, barely making a noise louder than a pant.

Yuta wasted no time, hips drawing back and snapping forward. Your head fell back against the pillow, mouth open as a quiet gasp left you. He was focused, head dipping down to watch where he appeared and disappeared inside of you.

Never mind being mindful of the noises you were making, Yuta had to be mindful of the noises your bodies made. Anything louder than the squelching and bed creaking and he was certain Inumaki would be waking up.

But it was hard to be rational when your cunt was suctioning to him, velvety walls begging to milk him for all he was worth. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

Every drag of his cock had you arching, scratching at his biceps as sweat dripped down your brow. You couldn’t think straight, breath catching in your lungs every few thrusts as you tried to ignore the urge to scream his name. “K-kiss me.” You managed to choke out.

It certainly wasn’t a whisper, the rustling in the bed over confirmed that. Yuta dropped lower, practically draping his body over you, hips rolling slowly rather than thrusting as he slotted his lips over yours.

Still, he was listening, silently praying Inumaki wouldn’t wake up because dammit he was certain he wouldn’t be able to stop fucking you even if he did.

“Y-Yuta-“ it was muffled, swallowed whole by his tongue slipping past your lips. You gave in, nearly melting into the mattress from his weight settling on you, the close proximity causing his pubic bone to brush your clit.

You felt it then, molten hot arousal pooling in your gut as he offered to the slightest bit of relief.

Yuta pulled away, saliva keeping your lips connected. “You have to be quiet, pretty girl. He almost woke up.” You nodded, eyes so bleary and lips so swollen that he couldn’t bring himself to really scold you.

Yuta found his pace again, hips smacking into yours and creating a soft slap that was just barely muffled by the hotel comforter. He was struggling to contain his own noises as your cunt clenched around him, one of your hands falling away from his bicep to sneak between you.

“Rub your clit for me, pretty girl. Make yourself cum on my cock.” It was a whisper but it seemed to echo off the walls of your skull, rendering you completely speechless.

You did as he asked, hand slipped down to feel your soaked cunt, rubbing your clit in face circles as Yuta’s cock stroked your sweet spot. “Make yourself cum on my cock, please. You know how much I love that.”

You nodded, mouth hanging open as breathless pants slipped past. They were quiet enough to not wake Inumaki but if anyone were to enter the room, it would be painfully obvious what was happening.

Yuta watched you, eyes torn between watching your tits bounce with each thrust and watching where his cock kept disappearing inside of you. It was utterly entrancing, making him gasp as his cock twitched violently within your walls.

“I’m gonna cum, pretty girl. Cum with me please.”

His voice cracked, face sweaty and flushed as he begged you so sweetly. It sent electricity straight down your spine, clit throbbing as your orgasm built. The thrusts got harder, a little sloppier… and louder.

Not that Yuta could care in that moment, he seemed to forget everything he had been drilling in your head as he moaned your name. You whined, eyes widening at the volume of his voice as your walls clenched again.

You were close, fueled by the feeling of his cock twitching deep inside of you. “Cum with me, please.”

Breathless, you nodded, head falling back as you brought yourself over the edge just as Yuta did. His hips stuttering before burying deep, pushing against your cervix as he spilled his load in you.

You had barely registered the warm gush that flooded between your thighs, not until Yuta collapsed on top of you. “Fuck.” You offered weakly, feeling the dampness on the sheets below accompanied by your sweaty skin.

“We made a mess.” Yuta’s tone was sheepish, vibrating your neck as he spoke into it. “It definitely reeks of sex in here too…” you felt your face burning, realizing there wasn’t any windows open to allow ventilation.

“He’ll figure it out regardless.” Yuta sounded defeated but you could feel a smile on his face. “I’ll take the blame… since I’m the one who can’t resist your breasts.”

“You better.”

[xunyicaos]

take my breath away 

lads sylus x afab!reader (18+)

word count: ~ 1.6k

content: pre-established relationship (admittedly obsessed with husband!sylus), not proofread, corn without plot, breathplay, pet names (kitten, sweetie, cutie), needy!reader, overstimulation, unprotected sex, p in v, reposted my old work from diff fandom

when you gasp it's like something snaps. 

your whole body quakes as euphoria floods through you, high-pitched cries tumbling from your lips and your nails leaving pretty red patterns all over your husband’s back. sylus is a pro at many things, but he's especially talented at hitting that delicate spot inside you for the third time tonight, flipping the switch in your brain that turns off all the thoughts focused on anything but him. 

you don’t remember how this started, whether you had a bad day or he did, or what precisely it was that has you a fucked out doll at his disposal. shit, you’re not even sure how your day went at all right now, but you aren’t complaining. 

on the contrary, you’re begging. your hole is sensitive, that's an understatement, but it’s still drinking in his fingers desperately. it's so good, so addictive when sylus fills you up, whether it’s his long fingers or his cock, your pussy craves more each second. 

but now sylus isn’t moving and your recovering walls feel neglected without his fingers massaging into them. “no, no,” you whimper, lightly smacking at his arm. “need more… wanna cum again.”

your hiccups seem to grab sylus's attention again, his crimson gaze heavy yet curious. somehow, even in your pleasured haze, you recognize the expression. he wants something from you and, of course, you automatically want to give it to him as soon as he tells you what it is. He pulls his fingers from you with a sloppy wet sound that has your eyes rolling, your hole clenching as though begging to be stretched again, needing to be filled. 

“sweetie,” sylus slurs, his voice intoxicatingly deep with a tempting lull to his words. “will you make that sound…” his voice catches, tense with his own growing arousal that's evident in the way his brows furrow as he tries to find his words. “make that pretty noise again for me.”

your brows furrow for a moment and you think you notice him using his wet hand to push his boxers down, the other traveling up to the base of your neck. he presses gently, tentatively, a tender massage that eases your breath, makes you comfortable enough to find your voice and ask, “what n—?”

the question catches in your throat, breath hitching beneath his palm as he squeezes. your eyes widen, an internal scream of I can’t breathe! causing your heart to skip a beat. but sylus’s grip loosens just before the panic fully manifests and oxygen floods into your lungs, the relief racing both up to fill your head and down to pool between your thighs. 

“that.”

oh. your thinking is still cloudy, sentences not linking together properly, words not articulating, but you think you know what he’s talking about. how fitting.

sylus fucking likes the sound of you choking, the melody of you gasping and whimpering, even more vulnerable at his hands than you already are. and, honestly, it works out, because you love the way it feels when he chokes you. you know he's at war with himself internally, weighing out his own pleasure and your comfort. always so thoughtful. you respond with your own hand resting gently on top of his, squeezing it as if to urge him to continue. 

sylus seems a bit relieved and he leans down to press a hungry kiss to your lips, catching your lower lip between his teeth before swiping his tongue over it and pulling back just enough to whisper, “so you like that, kitten?” he sounds a bit hopeful and if you could think properly, you’d say it was cute. 

“yes,” it’s a blend of a hiccup, a sob, and likely a deranged giggle. your hand flutters on top of his, pressing it down into your neck. 

that’s all he needs to hear. 

it’s as simple as a flex of his perfect fingers that gets you to keen, your movements in tandem with his as you hook your legs around his waist. your expression, the beautiful sounds leaving you, and the steady stream of bliss dripping from your hole—it has him hard and throbbing as he positions himself between your legs. 

you’d whine if you could, but your voice is hidden behind sylus's giant hand, your breath shallow. you see stars when he slides into you, the stretch making your mouth fall open in a stifled scream, drool trickling from the corner of your lips. you’re unable to take the breath you usually would, to steady yourself, to keep yourself from unraveling then and there. no, now you’re only able to clench, to grip him with your needy walls. your mind is melting and his oh-so-intoxicating voice only adds fuel to the fire. 

“you’re so beautiful, sweetie. always, but especially when you’re like this,” sylus groans, his hips rocking into a pace that has you silently sobbing, the pleasure overwhelming. it’s like both of you have forgotten the level of your sensitivity, your orgasms in the past hour brushed aside. the focus is on how badly you want more, more, more right now. 

sylus is creating a pattern, lightening his grip on your neck only to slam into you right as you’re trying to recover with a breath. “you like it when you’re fucked stupid, huh?” he pants between thrusts. “my kitten just wants to be full of my cock?” 

your acquiescence is broken up into too many syllables, otherwise reduced to gasps and fluttering lashes. your nails dig pretty red crescents into his arms, tears spilling from your eyes as your lungs are tempted again and again, the rush of air being abruptly stopped and sylus pounding into your pussy enough to drive you crazy, if you aren’t already. 

sylus is equally drunk on your pussy; the way it pulls him into your heat, how your walls massage his cock each time he slams into you. it always feels like he’s reminding you that your pussy is all his, just for him. it's always been his goal; by the end of these late nights all you can remember is him, his cock and how nothing will ever fill you as perfectly. 

“aw, my needy little kitten, can’t think of anything but how good you feel right now, hm?” you think you nod, your teary chin hitting the back of his hand as his grasp tightens again. “there you go, sweetie,” he groans, his half-lidded gaze drinking up your tears and gasps. “feel so good you can't stop crying, hm? oh you’re so beautiful. so beautiful and all fucking mine.”

maybe it’s something about the way your eyes roll back, your lips parted in a suspended gasp, the rosy flush that’s filled your cheeks—whatever it is causes sylus’s hips to stutter, pushing into you at a depth that, if you weren’t already suffocating, would take your breath away. 

he lets go, his hand moving to brace himself through his own climax as it mixes with yours and you break down into delighted gasping sobs. “sy,” your voice is hoarse, broken, but the way your fingers trail up and down his forearm proves that it’s all in bliss. “holy shit, you're so—so good, it’s so… it feels so good.”

sylus chuckles breathlessly, the rough pads of his fingers going to draw soothing circles on the reddening skin of your neck. “you’re too perfect for me.” he hums and trails kisses from your neck to your jaw, finally ending at your lips.

his kisses are soft, far more tender than the roughness of his fingers around your throat, each one planting seeds of reality in your thoughts, slowly bringing your vocabulary back together in a way that makes sense, but not enough to draw you out from the pleasure that still has you shivering. “you did so well, sweetie,” he soothes into your lips, taking your weary giggles into his adoring kiss. “you’re absolutely amazing.” 

there’s a beat of hesitancy and Sylus takes the time to slowly pull out of you, trying to keep his eyes away from the way your hole tenses, a milky stream being pushed out and drawn back in with every pulse. He settles next to you and pulls you into his arms, stroking your hair and steadying his breathing to help inspire yours to calm. 

“sweetie?” he starts and you can barely place the discomfort in his tone. “that wasn't…” his brows furrow as the words escape him and he almost looks sheepish when he meets your gaze. so out of character, yet so endearing. “i didn’t hurt you… right?”

the laugh that leaves you is a bit more stable, genuine in its amusement. words are still proving to be difficult, due to both the mental toll and the physical pull on your throat, but you think you can get the point across when you kiss him. “no... didn’t hurt. i liked it—really liked it.” 

relief fills sylus’s sigh and he kisses your forehead, a small smile on his face when he pulls away to look at you. his eyes scan your equally red neck and you absently doodle invisible patterns on his bare chest, peeking up at him through your lashes. 

“what is it, cutie?” sylus asks in that irresistible timbre as he studies your needy expression. He knows what you want, but he’s fully prepared to keep you in his arms for just a bit longer and, thankfully, you’re in agreement. 

“need… a lil’ break…” you admit, nuzzling into his chest with a soft sigh. “but…” you peek up at him again with an adorable amount of playful shyness that makes his heart skip a beat.

“i can go again.”

[bratbby333]

nsfw 𓆩⟡𓆪 mdni !!

dating toji feels like an 808 bass drum pounding in your chest...

...and his thick cock feels the exact same way as it ruins your pretty little pussy

cw: fem!reader, public sex, p in v, rough sex, pet names (doll, pretty girl)

he's over protective and territorial, his brooding jealousy and tight grip on your waist shoots pangs of arousal through you whenever the two of you go out. blood rushes to your eardrums, the rhythmic thump mimicking the pulse in your core.

he loves making it known that you’re his. he’s like your own personal bodyguard, scowling at anyone in the bar who dares to let their eyes linger too long on his pretty girl.

you attempt to ignore the gnawing ache in your core, but god does he make it hard. he doesn’t even have to do much either—he’s practically trained your body to respond to him regardless of what he’s doing.

he voices how pretty you are in a raspy whisper against your neck, nipping at the skin behind your ear. his large hand cups the small of your back, grips your hip tight— honestly whatever he can get his hands on. his fingers run up and down your thigh, digging his fingers into the squishy flesh, a bruising reminder of who you belong to. if you’re feeling real bold, sometimes you try and rile him up on purpose just to get a good, nasty fuck outta him.

and you always succeed.

your plan is set in motion when he gets up from the table to grab another round of drinks, shamelessly allowing some drunkard to flirt with you.

silly, silly girl. oh, you've done it now.

toji's a multifaceted lover; nice n slow sometimes, brutal and mean the next. a jack of all trades. you never really know what you're gonna get—which is why you're eyes are blown wide, your breath stuck in your throat while he has you pushed against the sink in the bathroom, fucking himself deep into you.

to be fair, this is the outcome you wanted, but you didn't expect it here. you know just the right way to push his buttons.

he wraps his fist around your throat, squeezing your sensitive skin so tightly, his hips meeting your ass with every unforgiving stroke.

he's just so thick, you'd think you'd be used to it by now, but it's like you're taking him for the first time all over again. but god, you just cannot get enough of the way he stretches you...the sweet burn of his girth coupled with the fat head of his cock that seems to brush into your g spot without failure...your gushy walls swallowing him whole, the squelching sounds ringing through the bathroom, bouncing off the linoleum walls.

he just knows his pretty girl too well. his hips snapping over and over and over, driving himself so fucking deep. his veins rubbing against the pillowy walls of your pussy. the pretty whines that can't help but escape your lips.

poor thing, you're trying so hard to keep quiet, but he's fucking you so hard and he's so deep, you can't help but cry out for him.

his fist wraps around your hair, pulling your head up. "look at you," he'd coo, his voice raspy, "so pretty while yer takin' my cock," his pace is unyielding, and his eyes bore into yours with every push.

your sinful ahh's and ooo's and oh fuck's are silenced by a firm hand over your mouth. "keep quiet, pretty girl. don't wanna get caught now do we?" your head shakes, your tummy churning with pleasure as he pounds into you.

maybe if he wasn't fucking you so hard you'd be able to keep it down. he's so smug, so teasing. his eyes dare you to make another sound, his cock taunting you to cry out once more. "you gonna cum?" you whine into his hand as sweet tears brim behind your eyes, your head bouncing up and down in confirmation.

"that's it, c'mon...be good f'me." his words send chills down your body as his fingers draw quick circles into your clit. the tightness in your core finally snaps as you choke on your moans, your orgasm clawing its way through you. his follows soon after, unable to resist the delicious clenching and spasming of your walls as you milk his load from his heavy balls. his thick seed coats your insides, a mixture of both your cum dribbling out around his cock and trickling down your thighs.

he quickly pulls out and slides your panties back up, a dark spot appearing immediately from the fluids that are spilling from you. your thighs tremble and knees buckle as you work to regain your breath. he chuckles at the sight, "yer okay, did s'good."

he stares at your reflection in the mirror as he tucks himself back into his jeans, a look of accomplishment and a cocky smirk pulling at his cheeks at the thought you walking around full of him, a sticky reminder of you really belong to.

"c'mon, doll, let's get back out there."

[answersinmycigarettebox]

Imagine your f/o carding their hands through your hair after a long day...lightly scratching at your scalp and holding you against their chest...

[scnderlands]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ON COLD NIGHTS — jiyan. wuwa

CONTENT WARNINGS + TAGS — sfw, unedited drabble, mdni, nightmares, hints at possible trauma, typical fighting TD’s, mentions of blood and fire, war etc. all lower caps

AUTHORS NOTES — I basically woke up in a cold sweat to write this, no editing or nothing, I couldn’t stop thinking about jiyans story when reading it after unlocking it and now I wanna make this a bigger fic??? but for now it’ll be a drabble of sorts

the sound of the crackling fire surrounded him, the heat burning and melting his flesh, the heat and smoke blinding him. tacet discords plagued the jinzhou as far as he could see, and they constantly fed on the frequencies of his fallen comrades.

beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and made his hair stick to his flushed skin. his breath was ragged and heavy, but there was no time for him to stop and try to regain his composure. wave after wave of TD’s came at him and each time he swung and struck them down with ease.

time and time again, he ignored the faces of his dead friends and soldiers, his only thought being that of protecting the city — he couldn’t let it fall, even if it meant falling himself.

the flames raged on, and so did he. running through the chaos and striking down anything that came near him. jiyan noticed how the screams and crackles faded away, replaced with voices of those he knew.

“that’s a clueless kid! how can we trust him with our lives?”

“you said you would protect us…but why?”

he continued fighting, trying to keep the voices at bay, but they surrounded him, suffocated him.

“jiyan, what on earth are you fighting for?”

he let out a loud scream as he fought, with every hit and cut he took, he took down two more enemies. he was bloody, tears rolled down his cheeks but he knew he couldn’t stop. his body hurt more than he thought possible, his limbs so heavy that he swore at any moment he’d sink into the ground, swallowed up by the earth to never be seen again.

his knuckles turned white from the grip he had on his spear, using it as leverage to push himself back to his feet. and that’s when he heard it, a gentle, distant voice muttering his name. he looked around but couldn’t see where it was coming from, but the voice enveloped him in a sense of safety, security. it was like it wrapped around him and protected him from the oncoming slaughter of monsters and unsavoury voices.

“jiyan…” he jolted awake, unable to catch his breath, sweat dripping from every part of him.

“what am i fighting for?” he whispered to himself as he held his head in his hands.

your hand rubbed up and down his back gently, not wanting to scare him anymore than he already was.

“are you okay?” your voice was quiet and you leant down to try and find his eyesight.

he nodded but you could tell it was hesitant, he was lying but he didn’t want you to know. he didn’t have the heart to tell you how often he was plagued by that nightmare, how many times he’d awoken in the middle of the night in a panic and drenched in his own sweat. but you knew, you could tell.

“you know what? let’s go for a walk…” you wrapped your hand around his and tugged at it, urging him to stand up and come with you.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I think I’ll just—“

“jiyan, come on, just trust me, okay?” he sighed as you spoke and glanced up at you with heavy and tired eyes, but he obliged, how could he not?

the both of you left his tent and walked away from the camp, your hand never leaving his as you guided him through the borderlands and up a hill nearby.

“I remember when you told me something, a long time ago but it’s something I always wanted to do…”

he didn’t reply, but instead helped you up a steep bit of cliff face, not even questioning why you were making him climb in the middle of the night.

“…I remember you telling me that the borderlands might not have the charm of the city, but there is something about it that is just as beautiful in its own right.”

jiyan remembered the conversation. there wasn’t many conversations with you that he forgot, each and every one of them seared into his brain like a cattle brand, your conversations were an escape for him.

“you told me not to worry because you’d protect me,” you chuckled as you both eventually reached the top, and you guided him to the flat grassy land just a bit further ahead, “you said I should accompany you to witness..”

his voice cut yours off, filling in what he had said to you all those years ago, “witness the full moon and twinkling stars that grace the tranquil night skies.”

jiyan squeezed your hand in his, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips as he stared up towards the sky above him.

you sat down and patted the grass beside you, gesturing him to lay beside you and without much hesitation he did. he rested his head in your lap, his hand reaching for yours once again and he sighed.

“thank you…for this.”

“you sounded like you needed it, and well, you were right. it’s beautiful.” you smiled widely as you stared up as well, watching as thousands of stars twinkled gracefully through the inky black skies.

jiyan’s eyes were no longer looking at the sky, but at you instead. the way the moon’s light delicately highlighted your face in the most perfect way, the stars reflecting in your widened eyes, the breeze blowing through your hair.

“yeah…unbelievably beautiful, I know.”

you just wouldn’t know he wasn’t talking about the same thing you were anymore.

[pearlwithgirl]

Lamplight, Headlight, Moonlight.

Simon Riley x f!reader

Filthy smut - 1479 words

The second of many tender musings ("tender" works because of all the biting and flesh talk <3)

TW: Bites, scratches, and bruises; animalistic fucking; breeding; use of "bitch" (not in Simon's dialogue)

It started off as most of your trysts did. Habitual, comfortable, but not monotonous or passionless - oh no, quite the opposite. 

Simon sinks his teeth into you, suckling at smooth skin and adorning you with yet another set of glowing crescents. Low and dulcet, he moans into the meat of your thigh, a fleshy dessert after gorging himself on your sweet cunt for what felt like an eternity. 

He’d left you hanging on a precipice, dangling in the blinding glow of orgasmic bliss like a little flashing crystal hanging on a line in the bright sun. 

Like prey. Routine. 

You’re still puffy and sensitive, trickling juices that he pauses to lap up between mouthfuls of hide. Your body’s split-second reaction is to jolt and tense up at the feeling. To recoil, because it hurts, doesn’t it? 

You want to pull back, to scramble away at the deep sting, but you don’t. You love this. You accept it greedily, because he knows just what you need. You curl your hands into his ashen waves and yank him in for another sharp bite, as if he could get any closer - because it hurts so fucking good.

Simon creeps up over your belly and past your breasts until he reaches your tender neck to suck blossoming bruises into your skin, laving his tongue over your thrumming pulse. 

He nocks the blunt head of his cock against your twitching entrance, meeting your gaze and waiting for a sign. You can feel him throbbing already, leaking precum onto your hole. You nod almost desperately, and he slides home in one smooth stroke, bathed in blissful rapture.

He breathes out a delicate moan, a sweet zephyr in a register that nobody else gets to bear witness to. They don’t see this soft expression, eyes half-lidded, long-healed pink lines streaking across his flushed cheeks. He’s painted with a cherubic blush and his bottom lip is drawn between pearly teeth, plush and pink. 

It’s almost funny. Everybody outside this room gets something so brash, cold stares and no-nonsense orders, barked-out laughs and grumbled praises for those who are among his inner circle. 

Not you. You get the mild side, the pretty pout that looks nearly angelic in the soft lamplight behind him. It truly resembles a halo, incandescent luminescence shining over pale locks and radiating around his crown as he languidly drags his cock over that gummy spot on your front wall. 

You have to giggle at the juxtaposition of it all. A tremor that causes the change in atmosphere, nudges the falling domino that spills the sable wax and seals your fate. That little amused huff that made your chest quake - barely perceivable to most, but then again, Simon isn’t just any animal, is he? 

He leans back onto his haunches and cocks his head at you. 

“Something funny, doll?” 

It falls off his dusky lips with a tinge of affectionate snark, probing, curious.

You don’t answer. 

‘Nothing wrong, I just think you’re sweet.’ Is what lies on the tip of your tongue, but nothing comes out. 

You just remain zeroed-in on that panting mouth, eyes creeping lower over his heaving chest, his glistening abdomen, those slim hips that taper down to where his thighs flex and bulge…

Your wandering gaze flits back up when he prompts you once more. You’re frozen, lashes fluttering as you blink slowly at him, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“Your mind wandering?” He drawls out, the corner of his mouth creeping up into a sly smirk. “Is this not enough for you tonight? D’you need more from me?” 

“How could it possibly get any better?” You quip back in a plucky tone, mirroring his smirk and flashing a teasing glint with those glassy doe eyes. 

The air is sucked out of the room, a tangible shift, that halo obscured by a darker miasma of lust and insatiable hunger. You should have known better than to provoke a beast like him. You’ve challenged an apex predator.

The smirk drops momentarily. Cogs turn in his mind - it comes back as a grin peeling across his face. Your juices and his saliva catch the light filtering through the rosy bulbs strung up around your bed posts, tinted red all around his mouth, dripping from that ravenous maw. He licks his lips, leveling you with a carnal leer. You clench around him and that broad smile beams even wider. 

He leans in close enough for you to feel the perfumed puffs of breath along the shell of your ear. His tone is hushed, but it’s dripping with lust-soaked venom. 

He brushes his fingertips along your thighs and and hooks his hands under your knees, pressing your legs far back and priming your pussy to be filled to the brim by his heavy cock and heavier thrusts.

 “As you wish, pet.” He murmurs, the phrase rumbling through you like the warning growl of a starved lynx.

The very next moment, he’s buried to the hilt, setting a punishing pace, looking right through you to your gooey centre with wild, frenzied eyes.

He plunges over and over into the searing heat of your cunt, dragging you closer to the edge once again with every minute that ticks by.

You’ve offered yourself up like some sacrificial lamb, bared your delicate throat to this great beast of a man, and you couldn’t be happier. 

You’re not a lamb at all - you weren’t asking him some throwaway question. Deep down somewhere, right beside your warm, beating heart - you knew it was a provocation, didn’t you? 

You fucking minx. 

You’re a lesser predator yourself, yet here you are yowling like a beautiful little bitch in heat. Just like you wanted. Just like he knew you needed.

He’s just a man and the moon is nothing but a razor-thin sliver slicing through the sky, but when he tilts his head back, slinking closer and closer to his release, you think he might let out a howl. Your pale blonde beast, snarling in the soft, creamy light of the paper lantern hanging from your rafters. 

You tip your own head back and the gentle hand cradling your skull tightens its grip. He licks into your mouth, exchanging feverish kisses and hot breaths. He’s panting, littering dirty phrases between your punched out gasps and squeaks that punctuate every unrelenting thrust into your soft, warm cunt.

You catch a masochistic glint in his eyes as you scratch long stripes into his back and nearly pierce him through with a sharp gaze that screams, begs - ‘Breed me. PLEASE.’

A reedy whine tears its way out of your throat as you clamp down around him, lofted up into the sweltering air to mingle with the harsh grunts rumbling their way out of his chest.He won’t be far behind you, his rhythm growing stuttered and syncopated. 

There are a million disjointed thoughts swimming in your soupy mind, but you’re far too lust-addled and fucked-out to string them together. You’d like to be eloquent, to tell him what a good boy he is for blessing you with his impending orgasm and painting your walls creamy white, but that’s utterly impossible right now. All you can let out are broken babbles and whimpered chants of his name, but these are just as enticing and poetic to his finely tuned ears. 

You nearly lose yourself in the blinding pleasure of these heavy thrusts as he gets ready to fuck you full, but he doesn’t let you. He’s got you by the scruff, and he doesn’t even need to say anything - you know well enough by now what that look means.

'Look. At. Me.'

So you do. You lock eyes with him as his face twists with pleasure and his hips meet yours in a chorus of wet smacks. His sharp gaze softens as he falls prey to his pleasure and careens off the edge, knocking his forehead against yours. 

He lets your thighs drop back down after pumping you full of every last drop he has to offer, and as routine dictates, his wolfish grin goes all soft and gooey just as fast as it appeared. He drops the woozy smile to lean in for a sloppy kiss and collapses on top of you, bracketing you in and placing his weight onto his elbows.

“S’that “better”, sweetheart?” He asks, voice muffled against your dewy skin. 

“It was perfect. It’s always perfect.” You respond, cum-drunk and hazy.

He huffs a laugh into your neck, redistributing his weight until he can fully relax his burning muscles without crushing you. He’s draped over you, still breathing heavily and quickly approaching a deep sleep. 

You let him rest for a bit, stroking his back as he peppers feather-light kisses across your chest.

You’ve tamed him once more, gazing at the waxing crescent while a shameless smirk graces your lips.

Little minx.

[vampykween]

everything has changed

toxichusband!ghost x reader

-> toxichusband!masterlist | general masterlist

"you can't possibly be mad at me right now, simon. we're not together anymore. you don't get to be pissed about who i'm seeing."

"you live in my house, under my roof. you want to fuck everyone under the sun? go get your own place then,” simon spits at you and storms off towards the living room.

you press the heels of your hands into your eyes and try to suck in slow, deep breaths. how did you get here? trapped under your shitty (sort of) husband’s thumb while he hurls insults at you because his ego can’t handle that you aren’t in love with him anymore. you’re working a dead end office job so you can finalize your divorce and move out on your own; and are about to entertain going on a date with someone for the first time in years.

simon’s grumbling on about something you can’t make out and suddenly the only thing you can focus on is the sound of footsteps creeping up the steps to your front door.

it’s becoming harder and harder to get any air in your lungs and you can feel your palms begin to perspire. you’re aware of the sound of knocking on the heavy wooden door, your daughter pulling furiously at the hem of dress, and simon heckling at whatever game he’s watching on the tv.

the thumping doesn’t cease and you cringe because you know you should answer the door before simon yells at you to, or worse before he opens it himself. you’re not afraid of what simon will do to you, but what he’ll do to the man on the other side of the door.

once upon a time, you believed that things would be better, but that was foolish of you to think. you weren’t a sullen, depressed teenager anymore, no now you’re an overworked, underappreciated, depressed housewife. everything has changed but in the worst way imaginable.

[zazter-den]

[softmangoes]

true terror | ivory wraith x pc

18+ only

the sun dips below the horizon, tinging the waters of the lake with the day's final golden rays.

you take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the scent of pine and the cold crisp of autumn. the wait is over: there will be a blood moon tonight.

before, you would await for that familiar pull to tug on your soul and reel you into the depths of the lake. those first few nights had felt like something out of a dream: a face made of moonlight, hands that brushed your skin as if to make sure you were real, eyes like shards of the night.

but at this point, you have made marking your calendar to count down the days a science. you have stowed away a bag of spare clothes in the forest. the waves lap at your ankles, beckoning you closer. you are so tired, so sore, and all you want to do is be engulfed by something that shouldn't even be possible.

once you wade until the waters have reached your chest, you take another breath and dive.

"beloved," a familiar voice hums once you surface. you don't quite hear his voice so much as feel it. the specter's joy feels bright, like the gleam of moonlight illuminating the crevices of your soul.

with a grunt, you climb onto the stones, gripping the length of rope you anchored into the ruin during your last visit. the inside of the old temple is lit with a soft glow. he is here. the abomination. the monster. the ghost that haunts you and your heart.

you expect to see his gentle smile to celebrate your arrival. but at the sight of you, the wraith falls silent.

he sees the bruises darkening your throat, listens to your ragged breaths, watches as the tears swell and stream from your eyes.

"i missed you," you say, trying to manage an assuring smile. oh, he's so beautiful. you don't want to ruin your time together with your pain. "i didn't want to keep you waiting."

like a wave, the specter surges in front of you. his hands are balled into fists.

"who made you weep?" he says slowly, reeling in his rage as a riptide pulls a current back to the depths of the ocean.

"i'm fine," you begin to say, but before you can continue, the wraith extends a cold hand to your face and wipes a tear from your cheek. he brings his finger to his mouth, tastes the wet bead of your sorrow.

in that moment, the wraith sees the memory of a vile figure of a man with dark hair and an even darker heart. his hands are around your throat, telling you that you are worthless. that you better pay up or else.

when the specter's eyes open, they are nothing but endless wells of blue. his expression is placid. glassy. the calm before the storm.

"i will rend their flesh from their bones." ghostly tentacles manifest around him, writhing and roiling in the air as if itching to capture and constrict their prey. "they will bear witness to true terror."

"hey," you say softly, taking one of their hands in yours. you two only ever have so much time. already, the moon begins to wane. "i'm okay, alright? i promise."

the wraith softens. his tentacles calm. you are just how you have always been. how he has always loved you: gentle, optimistic, hopeful.

and in all the lives you have lived, you have always been a bad liar.

"the world is unkind." he gathers you into his arms and presses his lips against your temple. "but here, you will always be safe."

you sigh, the tension of the last few days leaving your body. it is only in the arms of an aberration that you can finally find solace. after a few moments, you fall asleep to his fingers running through your hair and the hum of a song that sets your soul at ease.

but soon the night ends as it always does. the wraith places your sleeping form back onto your bed.

his eyes are as red as the moon.

you are safe, as he promised. the hunt begins. you do not hear the screams that pierce through the night.

when you wake up the next morning, bailey's office is empty. you do not see him the day after. or the next.

[o-sachi]

─── A Letter for @marushato ✦

If you have received this, it means you signed up for Sachi's Selfship Event !

TWINNNN. We only recently became moots but I alr love you. Thank you for hyping me up and feeding our delusions together. You seriously make my brain melt. I hope to see you annotate my future works as well meehehhheheh.

✉️ Attachment: ABCs with Narumi Gen

[A] Affection He likes to play it cool and pretend to be the nonchalant boyfriend in front of everyone. But who is he fooling? Absolutely no one. Everyone in the first division knows how clingy he is. Yes, that's pretty much 90% of his show of affection—just Narumi wanting to be around you 24/7. He also likes to share his stuff with you (he never shares ANYTHING, so you know you're special). Whether it's food, a game, or something he bought off of Yamazon—best believe that if you asked for it, he'd probably let you have it.

He's a sore loser too. But he'd gladly let you win when you play games together because he likes seeing you smile so widely.

[C] Comfort Narumi's a bit awkward when it comes to comforting you, especially since you're quite good at concealing your feelings. Like he knows you're not okay, but he's not sure what to do (like the vibes are off). At first, he might try to comfort you with his words. But he soon realizes he's not that good at it. So he tries to do things for you instead—like getting you your favorite food or giving you a massage. He gives you absolute princess treatment basically (he'd want to be treated like that if he were sad, so yeah!)

He also suddenly becomes nicer? LIKE who are you and what did you do to Narumi?

[D] Dates Most of your dates are spent indoors, either at your places or in your rooms at the base. You love playing games with each other. Even if all you do is play while talking to each other—y'all are pretty happy with that. But on the rare occasion that you both have a day off that coincides with each other's, you drag him out of his cave. You get breakfast/brunch/lunch together (dinners are too much of a hassle, y'all would rather be in bed by then). But there have been many instances wherein he practically begged you to join him at a convention. You guys buy figures together sometimes!

[J] Jealousy Like I said, he tries to act nonchalant about your relationship, but he's the biggest fake idgafer ever. He gets annoyed for two reasons: 1.) he's a naturally possessive guy, what's his is his; and 2.) the audacity of that person to actually try and take something from THE Narumi Gen? His ego could never. But he'll whine and moan about it before confronting that person. He'll ask you shit like, "Do you really love me or what?" You know it's bothering him when he transforms into the biggest drama queen. However... you don't really have to worry much about him. He naturally repels other "potential suitors" and he's waaaay too loyal to you.

[K] Kisses He almost fell to his knees the first time you kissed. You both remember it well because you two were arguing about something silly at the time before the major event happened. Narumi always gets butterflies in his tummy no matter what kind of kiss you give him. You'll also notice that he likes just about any kiss on the face—cheeks, lips, forehead, nose. Sometimes you still catch him blushing, but he'll start calling you crazy and gaslighting you for imagining things lol. (He was a terrible kisser at first, but you taught him well).

[O] Other People Everyone's a bit confused how the two opposites that used to butt heads all the time are suddenly together now. But through time, people are just glad that there's someone that can handle Narumi. Due to your relationship, he has become a bit more responsible. He attends meetings more than he usually would. Hasegawa is personally thankful that you do his work now (babysitting Narumi lol). But beyond that, they find you two to be the cutest couple ever. Both of you try to be the nonchalant one in the relationship, but you both know that y'all crazy for each other.

[X] XOXO His little act of love is that whenever he orders something from Yamazon (which is pretty much all the fucking time), he always makes sure to get a little something for you. He's confident he makes enough money to splurge on the both of you. Plus, he loves the bright smile on your face as you unbox his packages together. He ordered you matching figurines once (figurines from the same series/game) and he was sooooo proud of himself.

Thank you for participating. I hope you like it :3

Want to participate? Give this a read.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[abiiors]

midnight, car lights 🌃 // george daniel x reader

a/n: a second fic for the george bbf!au that's been plaguing me lately!! (a third one is coming soon). also happy 10 years of self titled <33 i'm scheduling this to come out at midnight uk time tihi

cw: none really, just fluff and flirting. maybe a very tiny age gap?? like 2 ish years

wc: 3.3k

“let’s go on a joyride.”

those words bounce around in your head like the dvd logo, said to you at 11:50 in the night—whisper-shouted would be more accurate. from under your balcony no less, like some fucked up iteration of romeo and juliet. 

so far you have failed to come up with a coherent answer for george who stares up at you expenctantly.

you lean over the railing, your curiosity piqued. "a joyride…” his words repeated back to him in a disbelieving deadpan voice. 

he nods eagerly. in his hands is a tiny heap of small stones—the source of the clinks on your bedroom window that had scared you half to death. when george follows your gaze, he drops the rocks hurriedly, dusting off his hands. 

“it’s a thursday night…” you point out. 

he clicks his tongue. “and you’re clearly not doing anything.”

your eyes narrow at his little jab. sure he’s right but come on now, he didn’t need to point it out like that.

“my brother—”

“is out on his ‘date’.” he makes a little face at that and you stifle the urge to laugh at how icked out he looks. clearly, some more questions that you need to pester matty with. but that’s for tomorrow. right now you raise an eyebrow at the way he cuts you off and finishes your sentences.

“my parents—”

“are asleep!!” his voice acquires a borderline whiny quality. “i checked!” he confirms proudly and before you have the chance to present him with further counterarguments, he throws his hands up in the air. 

“come on, little healy,” george’s grins a feral little grin, “scared you’ll get caught?”

you bite your lip, determined not to let him see your smile. it’s midnight, you’re in your pjs—an old ramones t-shirt and tiny shorts that barely come up to the top of your thighs—your hair is half out of your ponytail. in short, you’re the ugliest you’ve ever looked in front of george. 

meanwhile he looks like he’s just stepped out of an indie rock magazine—black skinny jeans, a black t-shirt that hangs loosely on him and yet somehow fits perfectly and his beloved vans. at this point, you’re sure george could wear just about anything and still look drop-dead gorgeous. 

“only a little drive? i promise i’ll get you back home in one piece.”

truth be told, you had made up your mind the first time he asked. a slow tingle of thrill slithers down your spine. the goody two shoes who’s never even smoked a cigarette before he came into the picture. about to sneak out the window at 11:56 pm. 

“okay,” you mumble to yourself. the small smile you’d tried to stifle escapes anyway. “okay, fine.”

george grins and whoops silently, fists the air in triumph. it does something funny to your stomach–his excitement. 

“hold on a minute,” you tell him before making a mad dash to your wardrobe for an acceptable pair of jeans and a t-shirt. 

the subtle nude lip gloss is inviting but you know it’s too much. he’s probably just bored on a thursday night and has nothing else to do. so begrudgingly you settle on a lip balm and brushing out your hair. 

it’s fine. it’s normal. and anyway, he’s not going to see you as anything more than matty’s little sister, so what’s the point?

another little rock clinks on your window followed by a soft whisper-shout. 

“hurry up!” the clear impatience in his voice makes you giggle but you look at the mirror a final time, smoothing out your unruly hair. this is as best as it gets. 

after all, this is not a date.

“can’t exactly fly out the window, george,” you respond drily as soon as he comes back into view. 

he looks around curiously, toeing the grass and pulling it loose with his shoes. you can practically see the wheels in his head turning, generating ideas that you don’t entirely trust… matty’s friends aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed—not according to you anyway—but once george gets an idea, it is downright impossible to deter him. 

“that looks good enough,” he mumbles but you catch it anyway, catch the spot his eyes are trained on and your stomach plummets about half a foot. 

“have you—have you lost your mind?!” you stifle your screech halfway through, looking at the boy in front of you like he’s grown two heads. 

george shrugs, looking the least bit bothered and points to the pipe next to your window. 

“it’s sturdy, look,” he gives it two firm raps with his knuckles. “and there’s the brick for you to grab onto. and i’ll catch you.”

the last part has your ears perking up. you look at him with a raised eyebrow. it’s only a floor. the ground below you is soft grass that’s regularly mowed and looked after. if you fall, the most that will happen is a bruised ass (and a bruised ego). besides, the alternative is to go your through the front door and risk waking up the whole house. 

“trust me!” he bounces on the balls of his feet, eager and impatient. 

george stuffs his hands in his pockets, veins on his forearms taut with tension. his colourful tattoos are a stark contrast to his all-black outfit. should you trust him? 

“if i fall—”

“you won’t!” he answers confidently. “i’m not going to let you get hurt.”

your heart skips a beat at how soft he sounds, mumbling the sentence more to himself than to you. a shadow of tenderness crosses his features, or maybe you’re just projecting. just a silly little girl with a crush on her brother’s best friend. a cliché. 

“can’t let my best mate’s little sister get hurt,” he clears his throat. and your heart drops in your chest. of course not. to him you are nothing but matty’s sister. ‘little healy’. 

“’course not,” you mutter begrudgingly and grab onto the pipe.

george stands below you, hands raised, neck craning to guide your steps down the exposed brick wall. there’s taking risks and then there’s whatever the fuck this is. regardless, you have put a disturbing amout of faith is george and now there’s nowhere to go but down. literally. 

the last few feet loom between you and the ground. your sweaty palms almost slip and involuntarily a whimper escapes you. 

“almost there, sweetheart,” george murmurs. that word snags in your brain. all thoughts fly away, and before you know it, you’re missing a step, foot slipping on the rough wall. there’s a split second of panic, the beginning of a scream that dies in your throat as soon as you feel a pair of hands around your waist. 

warm, rough hands on soft skin. 

george, holding you up. 

you’re practically pulled flush against his chest, wide-eyed and flushed from the almost fall. funnily enough, the vertigo intensifies the moment you look up into his eyes. they’re just as wide as yours, mouth parted as if he was about to say something. 

for a fleeting instant, time seems to stand still. the world around you fades into a distant blur as you and george remain locked in this suspended moment, bodies pressed close together, his towering over yours. his warm breath tickles your skin, and you can feel the rapid thud of his heart against your chest.

"are you okay?" george's voice is a hushed murmur, his grip on you firm yet gentle.

you manage a shaky nod, finding your voice after a few seconds. "yeah, i... i think so."

george's grip on you doesn't waver as he slowly guides you back onto the solid ground, his hands lingering on your waist for an extra beat before finally releasing you. you take a step back, both to regain your composure and to put some distance between the two of you. 

"thanks," you mumble, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "i don't know what happened there." you giggle nervously, unable to stare directly into his eyes. 

"no need to thank me,” he smiles, “just glad i was here."

the two of you stand there for a second, the weight of the almost moment hanging in the air. then, as if on cue, george's playful grin returns, diffusing the tension like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

"good to know i can make your heart race like that, little healy," he begins with a teasing glint in his eyes.

despite the heat creeping up your neck, a small laugh escapes your lips, the tension finally breaking as you roll your eyes at his cheeky comment. "you're unbelievable, george."

“right then,” he toes a small pebble, stuffing his hands in his pocket. “shall we?”

his car is cleaner than you expected. 

sure there are some receipts and empty plastic bottles on the floor, even a jacket in the back seat for some inexplicable reasons but it’s nowhere near the pigsty that is your brother’s car. 

“in you go,” he motions, casually holding the door for you. internally you’re grateful that he can’t see your flustered expression. 

it’s a tiny gesture, barely even a gesture really—just a boy opening a car door for you. but he’s not just a boy. he’s george—the boy who makes you mad beyond belief and annoys you with the smallest of efforts. the boy who makes you stumble over your words. the boy who is your brother’s best friend. 

“my my, george,” you tease to cover up your flustered silence, “manners. when did that happen?”

george rolls his eyes as he closes the car door behind you, and you settle into the passenger seat. you notice the faint scent of air freshener, attempting to mask any lingering odors from the cigarettes he no doubt must have smoked earlier. you glance sideways at him when he gets settled in the driver’s seat, unable to hide the hint of a smile playing at the corner of your lips.

"believe it or not," george retorts, putting the car in reverse, "i do have manners sometimes. just don't expect it all the time."

another playful taunt crawls up your throat, about to make it’s way out of your mouth when george casually just does the hottest thing you’ve ever possibly seen. your heart is in your mouth as you try not to stare at his arm behind your headrest. george, oblivious to your freak out, focuses solely on reversing the car from its little hiding spot. his cologne—something warm and smoky—fills the tiny car. a space that is so overwhelmingly him that you have to swallow roughly every couple minutes lest you do something incredibly stupid. 

like grabbing his face and kissing him senseless. 

especially with how inviting his light stubble looks. 

instead, you pointedly stare out the window at the dull grey road beneath you. 

“scared?” he teases, misinterpreting your darting eyes. 

all you can do is shake your head. there’s no way you trust your ability to speak right now, especially as half of your brain is focused on not ogling his arms and hands. 

this was a mistake. this was a stupid, idiotic, avoidable mistake. 

“come on! aren’t you excited to do something reckless for once?”

you are, you really really are. there’s no denying it as the car finally maneuvers out of the parking spot and away from your house. 

you let out a silent sigh of relief. the tension in the air begins to dissipate, and you take the opportunity to relax your grip on the seat. you sneak another glance at george, this time allowing yourself to truly take in his features.

his bleached hair is tousled—just the right amout of effortlessly messy, and his full pink lips only intensify the butterflies in your stomach. george is beautiful—from the way his hands grip the steering wheel with confidence to his jaw that tenses as he focuses on the road. all of it makes your heart race again. you can't deny your silly little crush, can’t deny all the times you have wished george was anyone but matty’s best friend. that you actually had the courage to kiss him. more than that you can’t deny all the times you’ve wished he would kiss you first. 

“where are we going?” you clear your throat, distinctly aware of how breathy you sound. 

george shrugs. “maccies, i think. been really craving some milkshake.”

and then he has the audacity to snicker at your gaping face. “a milkshake…” you trail off, wondering if hitting him on the head would be taking it too far. “sure, good to know i risked my life for your milkshake cravings!”

“pfft,” he blows air, taking his eyes off the road and training them on to you. “admit it, sweetheart, you were ready to, oh what was it? ‘risk your life’ for the thrill of it. don’t lie to me now, i saw it in your eyes.”

there it is again, the little flutter in your ribcage at the s-word. george seems so casual about it too, throwing it around like it doesn’t bother him whatsoever. and maybe it doesn’t, maybe he uses that on every single girl he talks to. the thought curdles in your stomach. 

“fine then,” you huff, turning back to the window.

the mcdonald’s is a flurry of people—drunk and high students looking to satisfy their munchies, homeless people looking for a cheap meal and shelter. exhausted employees handing out orders with a dead expression on their face. you almost feel sad, making them prepare two milkshakes at this ungodly hour. 

you turn to george who is busy studying the menu with the utmost curiosity. 

“strawberry,” he mumbles to himself then turns to you. “or no, wait. banana?”

you quirk an eyebrow. “strawberry is superior.”

“which means that’s what you’re getting,” he replies and goes back to perusing.

“if you think, for even a second, that i would let you steal—”

“so territorial, sweetheart,” he teases, eyes still on the artificially lit board. “fine. two strawberries then.”

george places the orders, giving the cashier his winning smile and handing over some cash. she perks up slightly, eyeing him through her lashes while george leans against the counter. a sudden heat burns through you, wild and unpleasant. 

heartburn, you tell yourself. the milkshake will fix it. 

or maybe not looking at george being flirty would fix it but oh well…

so you turn around, finding yourself an empty seat and leave him to bring over the drinks. 

minutes later, you almost jump out of your skin when george places the cool take-out container against the nape of your neck without warning. 

“real mature, george!” the shriek causes a few people to throw distasteful looks your way but he looks absolutely unbothered and oblivious.

“such a grump,” he snickers and motions for you to follow him. 

armed with your milkshake, you settle in the car once again. the car park is almost dead at this hour of the night and you wait for him to start the car back up, for him to tell you what the next steps are but george only taps tirelessly on the steering wheel. a complete 180 from five minutes ago.

tap. pause. tap tap tap. pause. tap. pause. it’s restless and rhytmless; not like his usual tapping where he’s lost in own tune. his milkshake sits untouched, condensation dripping onto the dashboard. 

you wrap your lips around the straw, sucking on it noisely, sipping on the sweet, cool liquid while you observe him closely. “something’s on your mind.” 

your statement makes him blink. so you’re right then, something is on his mind. he’s more fidgety than usual. in the stillness of the night, his thick swallows and knee jerks are painfully obvious. 

“what’s up…” you trail off, unsure if pushing him would be the right move. 

“there’s this–well. i want to–”

“this is new.” the amount of glee in your voice should be disturbing to you but you can’t contain it. because it is new. 

you’ve seen george be arrogant and annoying, laddish and even on occasion, sweet. but you’ve never seen him be shy before. 

“shut up,” he mutters to himself, then sighs loudly. “okay fine, it’s better if i just show you.”

you follow his movements inquisitively, his imperceptibly shaky hands as he takes out his phone and opens up a non-descript recording titled track 11

his phone screen illuminates his face in the dimly lit car as he hovers over the audio file. the soft glow casts a warm, intimate ambiance, making you acutely aware of how close you are to him in the confined space. your curiosity and anticipation mount as you wonder what he's about to reveal.

"i've been thinking about this for a while now," he clears his throat, finger lowering to finally click on the file. "and i want to share something with you."

at first, nothing happens. all that comes out of the speakers is static and then some more static. but just as you're about to speak, the car is filled with the opening notes of a song—one that instantly tugs at your memory. It's a tune that you have heard before, at different points in time. it's the song that matty’s hummed to you on days you were ill in bed, a song you heard them play at band practice. it’s a song that george and matty laboured over for days. the one that brought you all closer together.

and now it sounds all put together. the final piece of the puzzle locked in.

matty’s voice is stronger than you’ve ever heard, adam’s guitar and ross’ bass sprinkling magic onto it. and then there are the drums—precise and clear and passionate. just like how george drums his fingers on his lap now, matching the beat of the song.   

when the song ends, there's a brief silence in the car. the weight of the notes and the sincerity in his eyes hang in the air, leaving you breathless.

"george," you finally whisper, "that was..."

“we finished it,” he smiles, looking down at his lap. “so we recorded it…”

“it’s…”

there you are once again, at a loss for words. almost certain that there might be actual tears in your eyes. 

“that was…”

“shit? derivative? lousy?” he tries to laugh it off, covering up a vulnerable moment with his jokes but you’d be damned if you let that happen. 

“perfect.” 

the words echoes around the car resoundingly. there’s no challenging your opinion. the song is perfect.

“and you listen to me once and for all george daniel, if you call that song names in front of me one more time, if i hear you call it shit and derivitive and lousy again—”

before you can finish your sentence, george leans forward, crashing his lips onto yours. there’s a crackle of electricity in the air around you, the slowing down of time as if you’re having an out-of-body experience. as if you are a fly on the wall watching two people giving into the magnetic pull between them. but george cups your cheek with his hand and you jolt back into your body. 

his lips are cool from the milkshake but the kiss is searing hot, teeth clashing against teeth. your bodies trying to get as close to each other as possible despite the gearstick between your seats. george tugs on your bottom lip, smiling wide as if he can’t help it—grinning ear to ear.

by the time you pull away, you’re both breathing heavily—practically panting. he doesn’t pull back entirely, instead he keeps his eyes closed and his forehead rested against yours. the grin stays on his face. wide and gorgeous and making him look so boyish. 

“um,” you start and break off into a quick laugh. 

"i've wanted to do that for quite some time now," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah?” 

“yeah.”

with some hesitation, george lets go of your face, opening his eyes to look at you a second later. 

“damn, sweetheart,” he sighs again, chuckling a little. “this is turning out to be a great joyride, huh…”

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @beachesgetpeaches, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy

add yourself to the taglist

[xxsabitoxx]

The last person you'd expect to have a breeding kink would be Gojo Satoru and yet...

Heavily inspired by @tired-biscuit 's post

Satoru, who's hands are running along your sides as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, whispering nearly unintelligible words as he nips and sucks the skin below his lips.

Satoru, who's flushing a deep shade of red as you roll over to face him, telling him to speak up because you can't understand what he's saying and you'd really like to know.

Satoru, who's suddenly shy as he mutters about getting you pregnant. Unable to meet your eyes as he speaks.

Satoru, who wasn't expecting you to say "make it happen then, Toru."

Satoru, who suddenly seems to forget any ounce of shyness about his desires and is nearly ripping your clothes from your body. Tossing them carelessly to your bedroom floor as he pins you to the bed.

Satoru, who has your wrists pinned above your head and your legs thrown over his shoulders as he slams his hips into your awaiting cunt over and over, mumbling things that have a crimson blush spreading all the way down to his pale chest.

Satoru, who's babbling about how good of a mommy you'll be, how cute you'll look carrying his baby, how he's getting you pregnant here and now because he won't settle for anything less.

Satoru, who's spilling into you in record time, assuring you that he's not even close to being done with you yet.

Satoru, who's readjusting your bodies so you won't get sore, but making sure that he stays buried inside of you with your hips elevated, telling you it's precaution so none of his cum slips out.

Satoru, who's bringing your hands to his lips and kissing your fingers, singing you praises as he lets them go.

Satoru, who's running his fingers down your body, resting them on your abdomen and rubbing his thumb across the skin gently, assuring you that his baby will be growing in there very soon.

[d3athanddecay1]

Please feel free to dm or ask ♥︎ I enjoy talking I'm always down to yap

TWs in the bio above ^

Don't follow in my footsteps; Learn from my mistakes.

Below are some things about me, and my insanity.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Things about me

21 | She/Her 🏳️‍⚧️|Demonolatress

Casually Suicidal

Music runs through my veins

Rabid Leftist

Falls obsessively in love

Quickly loses interest

IM OKAY, if I thought I should be hoepaitalized I would be.

this is my insanely unhinged throwaway, if you follow my other acc and recognize them both as the same person HIII HELLO HIII ‼️‼️ HII :33333

════════ ♥︎Interests ♥︎ ════════

♡ Music ♡

Top 3 Bands/Artists: That Handsome Devil, Red Vox, Toby Fox (I do like a shit ton of artists though I'm a musician this is a very difficult question)

Currently digging through the discography from: Mom Rock

♡ Games ♡

Top 3 (All time): The Last of Us, Zelda Ocarina of Time (N64) ((first game I was ever allowed to play)), The Mass Effect Trilogy.

Currently playing too much: Mass Effect 2

Currently playing these too and fuckin lovin em: Stardew Velley, Cyberpunk 2077, Webfishing

♡ Shows/Movies ♡

Genres: Horror, Comedy, Action, Scifi, Historical Fiction, Mockumentary & Documentary, (Might add to this idk ahh)

Top 3 Shows: Community, Always Sunny, The Good Place

Top 3 Anime (Shows): Death Note, Nana, Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood

Currently watching on my own (on repeat lol): The Eric Andre Show

Top 3 Movies: Idiocracy, Hereditary, Don't Look Up

Top 3 Anime (Movies): Akira, Princess Mononoke, Howl's Moving Castle

Favorite Studios: Ghibli, A24, Aardman, (Also will add to this I forget who makes the movies I like really often)

Im kind of, not grounded ever, so this isn't meant to encourage others, this is genuinely to help me keep track of my own issues and find where I should focus my efforts to heal and recover

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

ᴹʸ ᵗᵒᵗᵃˡˡʸ ʰᵉᵃˡᵗʰʸ ᶜᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉᶜʰᵃⁿⁱˢᵐˢ

ED [☆]

𝙰𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 [♡♡]

𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚖 [☆☆]

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙳𝚛𝚞𝚐 𝙰𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎 [♡♡♡]

(I may add more)

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

Key

♡♡♡♡ - pretty much as recovered as one can get ▓ ♡♡♡ - in recovery for a year ▓ ♡♡ - in recovery for over 6 months ▓ ♡ - In recovery

◇ - Somewhere in-between

☆ - relapsed ▓ ☆☆ - relapsed and worsening ▓ ☆☆☆ - don't want to recover/worsening ▓ ☆☆☆☆ - I should probably check myself in somewhere/I'm doing permanent damage ▓ ☆☆☆☆☆ - All is lost/I could literally die tomorrow

[fictionfordays]

Halloween Event

Rules:

Must be following me

If you unfollow after your request has been fulfilled then you will be blocked!

Please use some common courtesy when requesting! Niceness goes a long way!

This event is for drawings only

You can submit up to two requests

In your request, please include one prompt and one character (if you're unsure about a specific fandom, feel free to ask!) (I don't bite! Much!)

Each prompt will only be used once so check the masterlist for openings!

A little disclaimer: the style of the drawing will be up to my discretion, but if you'd like a certain colour scheme you're welcome to let me know in your request!

Also if you are unwilling to comply with my event rules, your request will be deleted.

Reminder that ageless and blank blogs, and minors, will all be blocked always!

Masterlist

[realgrl]

a blog dedicated to the development of BARB HANDLER, an original character based in the rules of SBURB. mainly visually based at the moment, but may become an rp blog in the future. asks welcomed! contact me if you would like a reblog taken down. choreographed by PEARL.

BARB. 6teen at start of game, she, derse dreamer, prince of void. young brandy fc. one of two characters i play in a collaborative fansession i'm writing with friends. ballerina. meanest sweet girl you will ever meet. unwitting clone. like if the velveteen rabbit were a chronic overachiever.

LILI. scientist who dedicated her life to the study of a game that would end the world. created barb from her own dna as a last resort, intended barb to be raised according to her specifications so that she would be prepared to guide the other players through the game when it began. this fell through, and ghost lili is pissed.

୨♡୧ EXPLORING...

reality vs. artifice, nature vs. nurture, idealized girlhood and growing up as becoming real, ego death, protection through archetype, and, of course, heavy use of barbie motifs.

୨♡୧ TAG DIRECTORY!

CHARACTER AND VIBES...

୨♡୧ FICKLE-MINDED REAL LIVE GIRL! general barb character study.

୨♡୧ ODE TO ARTIFICE! general lili character study.

୨♡୧ ALIEN SHE! barb & lili dynamic, selfhood as falsehood.

୨♡୧ FACE MOLD! likeness.

୨♡୧ PINK SLIPPERS! ballet & dance.

୨♡୧ MUSIC BOX! barb's soundtrack.

୨♡୧ DRESS-UP GAME! outfits & accessories.

୨♡୧ FROM THE TOYBOX! doll & velveteen rabbit motif; actual dolls (mostly barbies) and doll props.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵ misc.

ARC AND DYNAMICS...

୨♡୧ pre-game. barb's life before sburb.

୨♡୧ let's play! while in the medium; regarding classpect and in-game arc.

୨♡୧ post-game. barb after sburb.

୨♡୧ when you are real you don't mind being hurt. coming-of-self.

୨♡୧ land quest. barb's land quest, where she has to kill various versions of herself.

୨♡୧ my clone sleeps alone. lili before barb.

୨♡୧ & failsession. barb and the other players, including arwen, manny, clementine, niikdo, erinye, & bakott.