#because he likes seeing you slowly get ruined by him

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Okay, I am here, I have crashed through the door of the reading room and thrown myself down on the sofa to enjoy this! I tell you, Lee, ALL weekend I've been looking forward to getting a chance to read it :D And the rest of this review will be below the read more because, ya know, it got hot quick in hereeee!

I love the immediate sense of authority in him, sitting there on the Iron Throne, a place he covets but of course, has not been granted. As you say, though, everyone knows he wants it. Can you imagine how scary it would be, if he was king? Eeep. I love him, but eeep!!

I adored the way the heat didn't so much rise as fucking enter the room like a backdraft, lol! With Daemon, you can see the way intensity and dominance radiates from him in the way Matt plays him, and you did not lack a single ounce of this in how you wrote him either.

“I haven’t given my permission for that,” he growled at you, squeezing your cheeks together.

He wanted you, but this was a game and you had to play by his rules.

I mean, that's SO him.

Then suddenly he struck your ass with a stinging slap. He delivered blow after blow as you shook beneath him, panting and pushing back for more before he yelled for you to still your movements. Your breath caught in your chest as you waited, ass warm and cunt pulsing. You were practically dripping down your thighs in anticipation which Daemon could see glistening even in the low light. He swiped a finger through your folds and brought it to your mouth as you sucked, holding the edge of the throne for support.

I know there's more to follow, but me after reading that? Exhibit A:

He pulled you by your hair and forced you to your knees as he stroked himself to release over your face and breasts, pulling your mouth to him and urging you to lick him clean. You obliged, running your tongue along his still twitching cock slowly and gently until he was satisfied.

GURL.

Daemon looked down at your ruined body, laughing at you. “Well that was a good bit of fun for me, but just a fantasy for a common whore like you. Get back to the brothel and don’t you dare tell anyone what’s happened tonight or I’ll have your head on a spike,” he spat at you as he dressed and left you alone in the shadows with his delusions.

And of course, we end with 100% cruel Daemon energy.

This was fucking magnificent!!!! PLEASE WRITE MORE FOR HIM I AM BEGGING YOU. I am not above bribery. Like, what do you want? Chocolates? Shoes? A pony? I gotchu, sis.

Iron Throne Fantasy

Daemon Targaryen x female reader

Summary: Daemon summons you to the throne room late one evening to ask you to be his queen. What happens when you play along with his fantasy?

Author's Note: My first HOTD fic. Please be kind! Ty to the amazing and supportive @retromafia for being my beta reader!

Warnings: 🔞, Porn with little plot, role play (he's playing out his fantasies), abuse of power, impact play, knife/sword play (maybe?), mention of blood, degradation

You entered into a nearly darkened throne room, shadows from the burning torches playing on every surface making the atmosphere more intimidating than usual. You’d been inside hundreds of times, but tonight was different. You’d been summoned by Prince Daemon and you hastened your steps so as not to keep him waiting. It didn’t surprise you to find him sat regally upon the Iron Throne. His ambitions were clear to everyone in the Red Keep, most of all his brother and to you. “Rhaenyra, you came,” he said with a smirk upon his handsome face.

“I do as you command,” you replied softly, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Ascend and see all that I do from my vantage point,” he said gesturing widely toward the enormous room. You raised your gown and climbed the multitude of stone steps to reach him, looking out over the space and imagining it full of subjects, bowing to your authority. You had to admit, you felt a shock pass through your body as you imagined having that kind of power.

Without turning, you sensed Daemon come to stand behind you and sweep the hair from your shoulder. His lips touched the shell of your ear and his warm breath fanned over you as he spoke. “One day this will be ours,” he promised, fingertips dancing over your collarbone. You nodded gently as his lips dipped to the valley of your neck and pressed kisses to your exposed throat. He found the pulsing vein lying beneath the surface vulnerable and throbbing and sucked a bruise as his hands ventured south over the plane of your stomach to squeeze your hips possessively. His fingers dug into the thick fabric of your gown so tightly you could feel him clawing down to your skin as you released a moan of satisfaction. 

He spun you around to face him and you would have fallen down the steps dizzy with desire if he hadn’t caught you by the waist and pulled you to him. As he dragged you back toward the throne, you inhaled deeply to steady yourself and this did not go unnoticed. Daemon’s eyes darkened as he hoisted you onto his lap with ease, chuckling darkly and asking, “You would do anything I command right now, wouldn’t you?” 

You nodded as you licked your lips, too overcome by his magnetism to refuse any request. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and kissed you, pulling away to demand, “Take off your gown.” His harsh tone left no room for interpretation. He wanted you here and now. You would not refuse him.

You unlaced the bodice of your dress as you held his gaze and he drank in the sight of you, running his hands under your skirts to knead your thighs appreciatively. The darkness obscured his expression, but you could hear his breaths coming more quickly as he anticipated your nakedness. 

When you had freed your breasts from the confines of your gown, he took one in his mouth and sucked as you writhed in his lap. One of your small hands went to the back of his neck, pulling on his hair until he grasped your wrist firmly and held it away in punishment. You gasped as he bit down on your sensitive nipple and your back arched in response. His other hand rand down your spine to soothe you as he lapped at the wound.

Your skin was burning and you needed to be rid of your clothing so you moved from his lap, hastily shedding your gown. Then you moved to take him from his trousers, but he caught you by your chin making you look up into his eyes. 

“I haven’t given my permission for that,” he growled at you, squeezing your cheeks together. You looked at him with wide eyes, palming him through the thin fabric and feeling him grow against your hand. He wanted you, but this was a game and you had to play by his rules. You gulped, waiting for instruction, never taking your eyes from your prince. 

“Stand and face the throne,” he said harshly and you did, pushing your ass toward him, wanting him to fill you. You waited there as he touched your back and down your legs, setting every nerve ending on fire. The torturous wait making you more feral with every passing moment.

Then suddenly he struck your ass with a stinging slap. He delivered blow after blow as you shook beneath him, panting and pushing back for more before he yelled for you to still your movements. Your breath caught in your chest as you waited, ass warm and cunt pulsing. You were practically dripping down your thighs in anticipation which Daemon could see glistening even in the low light. He swiped a finger through your folds and brought it to your mouth as you sucked, holding the edge of the throne for support. 

“You did well,” he praised as you licked his finger. “You must show fortitude above all else no matter what happens. Now, if you can withstand this last test I will know you are worthy of being queen, Rhaenyra,” he said and you looked over your shoulder to see him pumping his thick shaft. He moved you to the side of the throne where the sharpest edges lay of the broken, melted and half twisted swords of all the vanquished. As he took your delicate hands in his you faltered saying, “I will cut myself, my lord.” 

But he replied, “Only if you are unfit to rule.” Then he placed your hands above you grasping two of the swords firmly and took hold of your hips, plunging into you with one punishing stroke that took the breath from your lungs. 

You cried out in pain and pleasure as he rutted into you, feeling the length of him hitting your cervix with each push until your vision blurred. His fingers curled around you, digging into your skin and leaving crescent shaped marks to claim you as his own, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The pleasurable drag of his cock was hitting the sweetest spot within your innermost walls, pushing you to your climax faster than you thought possible.

Your hands grasped the throne more tightly as you tried to steady your body, waiting for the coil within you to snap. Your head bobbed with the motion and you wondered if the room might spin out from under you as you screamed in bliss. Daemon grunted lowly behind you, pulling out suddenly and you whimpered from the loss of contact, still clenching from your orgasm. 

He pulled you by your hair and forced you to your knees as he stroked himself to release over your face and breasts, pulling your mouth to him and urging you to lick him clean. You obliged, running your tongue along his still twitching cock slowly and gently until he was satisfied. Then you sat back on your heels to examine the rivulets of blood flowing from the cuts in your hands that were beginning to throb and sting. A tear ran down your cheek from the intense pain you were now experiencing.

Daemon looked down at your ruined body, laughing at you. “Well that was a good bit of fun for me, but just a fantasy for a common whore like you. Get back to the brothel and don’t you dare tell anyone what’s happened tonight or I’ll have your head on a spike,” he spat at you as he dressed and left you alone in the shadows with his delusions. 

[rosiecosy]

for your own good୨ৎ

(mingyu x reader)

it starts with whispers.

low voices at fansigns, barely audible over the noise—you should stay away.

then, it’s the messages. anonymous accounts sending vague warnings, escalating into outright threats. you try to ignore them. mingyu tells you not to worry. security tightens. but still, they keep coming.

then, it happens.

the crowd at the airport is thicker than usual, pushing and pulling, bodies pressed too close together. mingyu is just ahead of you, reaching back to hold your hand, but in the chaos, someone shoves you—hard.

your knees hit the floor. pain shoots through you.

and then—

"stay away from him," someone murmurs, so close you feel their breath.

your blood runs cold.

then, just as fast, they’re gone.

hands grab you—mingyu.

"hey, hey—are you okay?" his voice is frantic, his grip firm as he pulls you up.

you nod automatically, even as your wrist throbs, even as your heart pounds. you don’t want to ruin his schedule, don’t want him to worry.

but then he sees it.

the bruise already forming.

and his expression shifts—from concern to something darker.

—

you don’t see mingyu for a few days. his schedules are packed, and you convince yourself that everything is fine.

but then, late one night, there’s a knock at your door.

when you open it, he’s standing there.

silent. eyes tired.

"mingyu?"

he exhales, stepping in, shutting the door behind him. his hands find your wrists, his touch featherlight when he reaches the bruise that has now faded into a dull yellow.

"i should’ve been there," he whispers.

you shake your head. "you were there."

"not fast enough." his jaw clenches. "this happened because of me."

you hate the guilt in his voice. hate the way he’s looking at you like he’s the one who hurt you.

"mingyu—"

"maybe—" he swallows. "maybe we should—"

no.

you already know what he’s about to say.

so you do the only thing you can think of. you reach up, cup his face, and pull him into a kiss.

his breath stutters.

but then he’s kissing you back, hands gripping your waist, pulling you so close you can feel his heartbeat racing against yours.

when you finally break apart, he exhales shakily.

"don’t," you whisper. "don’t say we should break up."

his brows furrow. "but—"

"no." you shake your head. "you don’t get to decide what’s best for me. i choose this. i choose you."

his shoulders sag, like the weight of the world is pressing down on him. but then—slowly, finally—he nods.

"okay," he breathes.

and when he wraps his arms around you, holding you like he never wants to let go, and he doesn't.

[pixiexdusts-world]

Seven chances

Min ho Moon x ex!reader

Summary: Min Ho plans seven dates to win back his ex—and it just might work.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I never thought I’d see Min Ho Moon again. Not after the way things ended between us.

The moment I spot him across the café, I freeze. He looks exactly the same—maybe even better. Same tousled hair, same confident smirk, same annoyingly perfect skin. But something in his eyes is different. I quickly turn my attention back to my laptop, pretending I didn’t see him.

I should’ve known that wouldn’t stop him.

“Hey,” his voice is smooth, casual, but I can hear the nerves underneath. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

I exhale slowly before looking up. “Min Ho.” I keep my tone neutral.

He doesn’t take the hint. Instead, he slides into the chair across from me without asking. Typical.

“How have you been?” he asks, as if we’re old friends catching up.

“Fine,” I say. “Busy.”

Min Ho leans back, studying me. I hate how easy it is for him to make eye contact, like we didn’t go months without speaking. Like he didn’t break my heart.

“I miss you,” he says. Just like that. No preamble, no hesitation.

I let out a short laugh. “That’s not how this works, Min Ho.”

He frowns. “How what works?”

“You don’t just walk back into my life and say you miss me,” I say, folding my arms. “You don’t get to act like nothing happened.”

His jaw tightens. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”

I glance away, out the café window, watching people walk by. It’s a crisp afternoon in Seoul, and the city feels like it’s moving faster than I am.

Min Ho sighs, rubbing his hands together like he’s bracing himself. “I messed up.”

“No kidding.”

He nods. “I hurt you. And I hate myself for it.”

I close my laptop, giving him my full attention. “Then why did you do it?”

Min Ho hesitates. “Because I was scared.”

“Scared?” I repeat, incredulous. “That’s your excuse?”

“I didn’t think I was good enough for you,” he says, voice quiet. “I thought if I let myself get too close, I’d end up ruining everything. So instead of losing you later, I pushed you away first.”

I stare at him. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I know,” he says, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I’m an idiot.”

I shake my head. “You really are.”

There’s a beat of silence between us. I should get up and leave. I should tell him it’s too late, that I don’t care anymore.

But I do care.

And Min Ho, for all his flaws, is sitting here, admitting he was wrong. That’s not something he does often.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, his voice softer now. “But I want to try again. I want to prove to you that I’ve changed.”

I look at him carefully. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

Min Ho smirks, the familiar confidence creeping back into his expression. “Give me a week. Let me take you on seven dates. No expectations, no pressure. Just… let me show you why we were good together.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Seven?”

He nods. “Seven.”

I should say no. I should walk away and never look back.

But instead, I sigh. “Fine. One week.”

The grin that spreads across his face is enough to make my heart ache. Because deep down, I know the truth.

I never really stopped loving him.

Day One: The Ice Rink

Min Ho picks me up right on time, a smug look on his face. “You’re going to love this,” he says, leading me inside the rink.

I narrow my eyes. “You remember that I can’t skate, right?”

“That’s the best part,” he teases. “You’ll have to hold onto me the whole time.”

I glare at him, but when we step onto the ice and I immediately slip, I have no choice but to grab his arm. He chuckles. “Told you.”

Despite my frustration, I can’t help but smile. Maybe this isn’t the worst idea after all.

Day Two: The Bookstore

“I remember you used to spend hours in here,” Min Ho says as we step inside my favorite bookstore.

I give him a suspicious look. “You hate bookstores.”

“I hate reading,” he corrects. “Not bookstores.” He picks up a random book and flips through it, pretending to look interested.

I smirk. “You’re just trying to impress me.”

“Is it working?” he asks, grinning.

I roll my eyes, but I don’t miss the warmth creeping into my chest.

Day Three: The Street Market

Min Ho buys me tteokbokki from my favorite vendor, and we wander through the market, the scent of food filling the air. He tries to feed me a piece, but I swat his hand away.

“You’re so difficult,” he groans.

“You love it,” I tease before I can stop myself.

He grins. “I do.”

Day Four: The Beach

We sit on the sand, watching the waves roll in. Min Ho looks at me, his expression unreadable. “I don’t deserve you,” he says suddenly.

I sigh. “Min Ho—”

“I just need you to know that,” he interrupts. “Even if this doesn’t work out, I need you to know how much I regret losing you.”

I swallow hard. “You’re trying, Min Ho. That’s what matters.”

He nods, but I can tell he’s still scared.

So am I.

Day Five: The Arcade

Min Ho drags me to the arcade, his eyes full of mischief.

“Winner picks the next date,” he challenges.

We go head-to-head in basketball, air hockey, and racing games. He wins some, I win more (at least, that’s my version).

At the claw machine, he spends way too many tries before finally winning a small stuffed dog. He hands it to me, a little sheepish.

“For you.”

I hold it close, pretending it doesn’t mean anything. But it does.

Day Six: Karaoke Night

Min Ho books a private karaoke room, and I immediately regret saying yes.

“You just want to show off,” I accuse.

He winks. “Obviously.”

He belts out Love Scenario like he’s on stage, dancing like an idiot. I laugh too hard to resist when he shoves the mic at me.

“One song,” I warn.

By the end, we’re both breathless from laughing. He looks at me, eyes soft.

“I missed this,” he says.

I don’t respond. But deep down, I did too.

Day Seven: The Rooftop

Our final date is on a rooftop, fairy lights strung around us. The city glows beneath us, and for a moment, it feels like we’re the only two people in the world.

Min Ho turns to me, looking nervous for the first time. “Did I do enough?”

I exhale. “Min Ho…”

He shakes his head. “Wait. Before you say anything—I just need you to know. I love you. I never stopped.”

My heart clenches. “I know.”

He steps closer. “Do you still love me?”

I hesitate. Not because I don’t know the answer, but because I do.

“Yes,” I whisper.

Min Ho lets out a shaky breath. “Then let me be better for you.”

I bite my lip. “You already are.”

His lips crash into mine, and just like that, I know—

We’re going to be okay.

[insidekatmind]

You’re mine-Joao Felix

Request: yes!

It's a sunny day, and the two of you are sitting in the park, just like always, talking about everything and nothing. João looks at you with a smile that seems too sweet, too full of emotions he's no longer able to hide. You've known each other for years, but lately, there's a strange tension that you can't ignore. It's not like before, when everything seemed simple between you two. Now, every time you talk about your boyfriend, you notice a slight tinge of jealousy in his eyes.

"So, how is he?" João asks, his tone a little too cold to be casual. His eyes drop for a moment, then look back at you, fixed on you.

"Yeah, he's doing well. We made plans for tonight," you answer, trying to sound natural, but you immediately notice how João shifts in his spot, as if the idea of you spending time with someone else is burning him inside.

"It seems like things are going well, huh?" João says, but there's something in his voice that you can't quite decipher. His hand absently brushes the grass, and his gaze drifts off into the distance.

"We're getting along, yeah," you reply, trying to keep your tone neutral. But when you meet his eyes, there's something strange in them, a mix of affection and something that makes your chest tighten.

"Well," João starts, trying to downplay it, but his smile is tense, "you should be happy with him. You're a special person, Y/N. You deserve nothing less."

Your mind is confused. What is he trying to say? There's something João hasn't told you, something that now seems clear between the lines. In another moment, you would have ignored his tension, but today you can't. His voice sounds different, as if he's trying to mask his pain behind an apparent kindness.

"João, is something wrong?" you ask, trying to figure out what's behind his behavior. He smiles weakly, but his eyes don't lie.

"Nothing's wrong," he quickly responds, but his gaze betrays a truth he doesn't want to admit. The tension between you two grows, palpable, like a storm approaching.

"Are you sure?" you insist, feeling the need to understand. João pauses for a moment, then moves a little closer, as if he wants to say something, but then stops again, unsure.

"Y/N," he starts slowly, "I've always wanted the best for you, and I know you've found it with him. But..." he pauses, his breath shortening. "It hurts to see you with someone else. I don't know how to tell you, but... it's not easy for me."

The world around you seems to freeze as those words pierce your heart. You don't know how to respond, because something inside you, something you hadn't noticed before, has awakened. Your friendship with João has always been a constant, but now there are emotions that go beyond simple friendship.

You move closer to him and caress his cheek. João's gaze flutters for a split second, surprised by your affectionate gesture. The moment your fingers touch his cheek, his expression softens, and he closes his eyes, as if savoring the touch he's been craving. You can feel his skin under your fingertips, warm and inviting.

You hug him gently and lean against his chest. João's body tenses briefly, as if trying to resist, but he can't help but surrender. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer, and you feel his body against yours, the warmth of his chest against your cheek. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling softly, as if trying to memorize your scent.

You sigh softly before speaking. "Why didn't you tell me before?" you whisper into his chest. João's hand slides from your back to your hair, running his fingers through it. He takes a long breath, holding you tight against him.

"I didn't want to ruin your happiness," he replies, his voice a soft murmur. "I watched you with him, and even though it hurt me, I saw how happy you were. I thought I could keep it inside, that it would pass. But it didn't."

You sigh softly and cling to him. “Yes but I am happier with you” you whisper softly. João's heart skips a beat upon hearing your words. His fingers pause for a moment, and his hold on you tightens slightly, as if he's afraid this moment will slip away. He pulls away slightly, just enough to look into your eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asks, searching your gaze. There's a vulnerability in his eyes, a mix of hope and fear. “Yes,” you whisper and lean closer to him, kissing the corner of his mouth.

João's breath catches in his throat at the feel of your lips on his skin. His fingers tense briefly on your waist before pulling you even closer. The desire he'd been trying to ignore suddenly flares up, and he can feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest."Y/N," he whispers your name like a prayer, his voice hoarse with suppressed emotions.

He closes his eyes for a moment, gathering whatever courage he has left. Every reason, every logical thought that told him to stay away from you, to respect your relationship, it all disappears like smoke in the wind.His hand cups your cheek, and his touch is gentle but firm, as if he needs this connection more than air. His eyes open, and the mixture of want and fear is there, plain as day."Do you know what you're doing to me?" he murmurs, his thumb brushing your skin.

Your eyes meet his, and the intensity in his gaze makes you shiver. You know you're stepping into uncharted territory, crossing a boundary that's been there for years. But at this moment, none of that matters. The only thing that matters is the feeling of João's touch, the sound of his breathing, the desire that's been building between you.You raise your hand, placing it over his chest, feeling the rapid thumping of his heart. "Yes," you reply softly. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

João's breath catches in his throat as your hand on his chest makes his heart beat even faster. His grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes. The way you look at him, the confidence in your eyes, it both enthralls and terrifies him.He swallows hard, his gaze never leaving yours. "You'll drive me crazy, you know that?" he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

You smile, a sly, confident smile. "Maybe that's my plan."João groans softly, the sound low in his throat. The way you're teasing him, the way you're testing his self-control, it's both maddening and alluring.His hand slips from your waist, moving up to your face. He gently cups your chin with his fingers, tilting your head back slightly. "You're playing with fire, you know that?" he whispers, the heat in his gaze searing.

You tilt your head back, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "Maybe I don't mind getting burned."The words hang in the air, heavy with an implication that you both know all too well. The tension between you is palpable, a thin line you're both toeing dangerously.João's hand moves from your chin to the back of your neck, his fingers playing with the soft hairs at your nape. His thumb brushes against your lower lip, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"You shouldn't say things like that," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "I'm already barely holding back as it is."His thumb continues its ministrations on your lip, tracing the shape of it, as if he can't help himself."You're a temptress, you know that?" he whispers, his gaze fixed on your mouth.

You smile and bring his finger into your mouth sucking on it. Joao's breath catches in his throat as you take his finger into your mouth, a low moan escaping his lips. The act is so intimate, so wanton, that he can feel himself coming undone.

"Y/N," he whispers harshly, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. "You're playing a dangerous game."His other hand tightens its grip on your waist, pulling you closer so you're practically on his lap.

You smirk around his finger, your tongue swirling around it in a way that has him groaning again. The sight of you like this, so confident and brazenly sexy, is driving him crazy. He's trying desperately to keep control, but every flick of your tongue, every subtle movement of your body is eroding his restraint.His hand on your waist slides down, gripping your hip, his fingers digging into the flesh. He pulls you even closer, his body pressed against yours, and the heat between you is palpable.

You release his finger with a soft pop, your gaze never leaving his. The smirk on your face is now a full-blown smile, one that borders on dangerous. You love seeing him like this - torn, vulnerable, wanting you so desperately."What if I want to play that game?" you whisper, your voice a sultry purr.Joao's eyes darken, the hunger in them a barely contained beast. He leans closer, his lips brushing your ear. "Careful," he warns, his words a hot breath on your skin. "You might get more than you bargained for."

Your heart pounds furiously in your chest, the threat in his tone only exciting you further. The thrill of defying him, of pushing his limits, is intoxicating.You lean in, your mouth against his jaw, your lips softly trailing kisses along his skin. "Maybe that's exactly what I want," you whisper back, your voice sultry and bold.Joao's grip on your hip tightens, his body tense with the effort to restrain himself. He tilts his head to the side, giving you better access to his neck, a silent permission for you to continue.

You take advantage of his surrender, kissing and nipping at his neck until a low groan escapes him. His fingers dig into your flesh, his breathing ragged and uncontrolled."You're driving me insane," he breathes, his voice strained with desire. "You're gonna be the death of me."Your hands slide up his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt, the quick rhythm of his heart. Your mouth continues its assault on his neck, leaving a trail of kisses and little bites that make him shiver.

It's getting difficult for him to think, with your mouth on his skin, your body against his, teasing and torturing him in the most delicious ways. He grabs your jawline, forcing you to look at him."Enough," he growls, his eyes dark with a mixture of arousal and command. "I can't take this anymore."He stands up abruptly, pulling you up with him, his grip on your arm firm but not harsh. He's lost all patience, and he needs you now.

You smile and kiss him. Joao doesn't waste a heartbeat. As soon as your lips meet, he kisses you back with a fierce intensity. There's a hunger there, an almost desperate need, as if he's been waiting for this moment.His hands grip your hips, pulling you tightly against him. His body molds to yours, as if every contour, ever curve was made for him. The kiss is deep, possessive, as if he's marking you as his own.

You respond to his passion with your own, your body arching into his. Your hands grip the front of his shirt, holding on as if your life depended on it. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the way his muscles tense under your touch.The kiss is primal, a raw display of desire that neither of you can control. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back as his mouth moves from your lips to your jaw, your neck, down to your collarbone. Every touch of his lips against your skin feels like fire. His hands are everywhere, roaming your body, pulling you closer, demanding more. You can feel his possessive need in the way he touches you, the way he commands your body with his.Joao pushes you back against a tree, his body trapping you in, his hips pressing against yours. His mouth returns to your throat, his tongue trailing a heated path along your skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake.

Your fingers clutch the bark of the tree, desperately searching for something to hold onto, as your body responds to every touch, every kiss from Joao. His hands are under your shirt now, roaming over your bare skin, his touch leaving a trail of fire.

"You're mine," he breathes against your neck, his voice a low rumble of possession. "You've always been mine, and I won't share you anymore."

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 25 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

⋆˚࿔ Book 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇druses screentime

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

With that, he hauled her out of the tent, ignoring their grumbling as he made his way through the ruined camp. The warprize stayed silent, her expression carefully blank, but Acrisios could feel the tension in her body. She was waiting for an opportunity to run. He tightened his grip. Not happening. When they finally reached Telemachus’ tent, Acrisios shoved her inside.

Telemachus sat at a makeshift war table, fingers pressed against his temple. He looked up, his eyes tired, his face gaunt from stress and sleepless nights. He barely spared the woman a glance before sighing. “Tell me you have good news,” he muttered.

“Oh, better than good,” Acrisios said, smirking as he pushed the warprize forward. “Our little captive here just confessed that she let herself get kidnapped so she could rat us out.” Telemachus’ expression darkened. His gaze flickered to the woman, who swallowed but held firm.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “We’ve lost more than half our men because of that ambush.” His voice was low, simmering with restrained anger. “We’re outnumbered, our supplies are running low, and now we’ve lost Florus—the only person who could actually keep us fed and stitched together.” The warprize flinched but didn’t say a word.

Acrisios tilted his head. “So, what are we doing with her?” Telemachus was silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, his expression shifted—his lips curling into something that almost looked like amusement.

“We’re using her plan,” he said simply.

Acrisios blinked. “Come again?”

Telemachus finally looked up at him, his blue eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “She snuck in under the guise of a warprize. We’re going to do the same thing.”

Acrisios’ brow furrowed. “You seriously think one of us can pass as a warprize?”

Telemachus smirked. “Not just anyone.” He leaned forward. “Druses.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Acrisios snorted.

Telemachus raised a brow. “Something funny?”

Acrisios wheezed, pressing a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. “You—you want Druses, Druses, the guy who literally tore through soldiers like a rabid dog, to dress up as a Greek warprize and sneak into the Skiaphian camps?”

Telemachus leaned back, entirely unbothered. “He has the most feminine features of all of us.”

Acrisios was dying, barely holding back his laughter. “Oh my gods, you’re serious.”

Telemachus’ smirk widened. “Deadly.”

Acrisios lost it, doubling over, his laughter shaking his entire frame. “You better pray Enyo doesn’t smite you for this—she’s gonna be pissed when she sees her favorite little bloodhound dressed like a woman.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the amused twitch of his lips. “Druses will manage. And if he gets caught, well…” His smirk turned sharp. “Let’s just say they won’t be keeping him in chains for long.”

Acrisios was still wiping tears from his eyes when Telemachus stood. “Go find Druses,” he ordered. “Tell him we have a new mission.”

“Oh, I cannot wait to see his face,” Acrisios said, grinning as he turned toward the exit. This war was hell. But at least, for now, there was some entertainment.

——

The sun had barely crested the horizon when the entire camp was jolted awake by the sound of furious yelling.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

Druses’ voice boomed through the camp, loud enough to rattle the sparse equipment still scattered across the ruins. Soldiers peeked out of their tents, bleary eyed and confused, as Druses stormed through the center of camp, his long black hair wild, his purple eyes blazing with outrage. “This is insulting,” he raged, gesturing wildly with a bundle of fabric clutched in one hand. “You think I’m going to—what—paint my face and prance around like some delicate little maiden?”

Cassander, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, leaned against a post with a bemused grin. “I mean, you’ve already got the hair for it.”

Druses whipped around, pointing a threatening finger at him. “Say that again, Cassander. I dare you.”

Eurymachus was struggling to keep a straight face. “Come on, Druses,” he teased, arms crossed. “You’ve got those long lashes, soft skin—really, you’ll make a beautiful warprize.”

“Fuck you,” Druses spat, throwing the bundle of clothes onto the ground. “This is undignified! Insulting! I am not dressing up like some trophy just because—”

Acrisios, barely suppressing his laughter, stepped forward, clapping a hand on Druses’ shoulder. “It’s not about the looks, Druses,” he said, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. “It’s about strategy.”

“Strategy?” Druses echoed, eyes narrowing. “You mean humiliation.” He shoved Acrisios’ hand off, glaring daggers at anyone who dared to snicker. “I’m a warrior—a killer. Not some—some—bait.”

Telemachus, leaning casually against a stack of crates, finally spoke up. “We need someone who can infiltrate their camp without raising suspicion. You’re the best fighter we have—and the only one who could realistically pass as…” He trailed off, lips twitching. “A warprize.”

Druses’ glare could have set the whole camp ablaze. “You can’t be serious,” he seethed. “You want me to doll up, chain myself, and parade into the Skiaphian camp like some helpless captive?”

Acrisios, failing to hide his grin, shrugged. “Think of it as—uh—method acting.”

Druses growled, his fists clenching at his sides. “I swear, if any of you so much as comment on this, I’ll slit your throats in your sleep.”

Cassander leaned toward Eurymachus, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Do you think he’ll wear lipstick?” Druses lunged, nearly knocking Cassander over before Acrisios pulled him back, laughing.

“Relax, Druses,” Acrisios said, grinning wide. “Just imagine the looks on their faces when you break free and start tearing through their ranks.”

Druses huffed, crossing his arms. “This better work,” he muttered darkly. “Because if it doesn’t, I’m taking all of you down with me.”

Telemachus smirked, arms crossed over his chest. “Oh, it’ll work. You’ll make sure of it.” Druses glared, but there was no denying the dark excitement that flickered behind his eyes. This was humiliating, yes—but if it got him closer to the enemy, closer to vengeance, closer to tearing them apart from the inside…

Maybe he’d wear the damn dress after all.

——

Druses was seething.

Standing in his dimly lit tent, he yanked the delicate fabric over his head with all the aggression of a soldier sharpening a blade. The sheer material brushed against his skin like an insult, and the metal cuffs around his wrists—meant to mimic the restraints of a proper warprize—felt wrong.

“If any of them say a single word,” he muttered under his breath, violently fastening a golden sash around his waist, “I’m gutting them.”

He was just about to pull his long black hair into something remotely presentable when a chill ran down his spine. A presence—familiar, electric, chaotic, swept through the tent like a rush of battle drums.

Druses froze.

A low, delighted chuckle echoed through the space.

“Well, well, well.”

His entire body tensed. Slowly, he turned his head. There, lounging casually on his cot, was Enyo. The war goddess herself,, her piercing eyes gleaming with amusement as she took in the sight before her.

And then—

She cackled.

Druses’ eye twitched. “Oh, this is rich,” Enyo wheezed, clutching her stomach as she rocked back in laughter. “My champion, my ruthless, bloodthirsty little war dog—dressed up like a fragile maiden, guess I’d have to call you Enyo’s damsel!”

Druses clenched his fists, his face burning hotter than a battlefield at noon. “Shut up.”

Enyo only laughed harder. “Look at you!” she gasped between fits of mirth. “All dolled up like a proper damsel. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were preparing for a wedding instead of war.”

Druses gritted his teeth. “It’s a disguise.”

“A disguise?” Enyo wiped at her eyes, still grinning. “Druses, you look like you’re about to be gifted to some warlord.”

Druses’ entire body stiffened. “That’s the point.”

Enyo smirked, resting her chin in her palm. “So you’re telling me,” she purred, “that you’re willingly walking into an enemy camp, dressed like that, pretending to be some helpless little warprize?”

Druses swallowed down the urge to strangle something. “Yes.”

Enyo let out a long, exaggerated sigh, shaking her head. “What a fall from grace,” she said dramatically. “One moment, you’re slaughtering men by the dozens. The next, you’re playing dress-up.”

Druses glared. “Do you have a point?”

Enyo’s smirk widened. “I just came to check on you, darling. But this?” She gestured at him—the flowing fabric, the painted lips, the utter humiliation draped across his face. “This is the best entertainment I’ve had in centuries.”

Druses exhaled sharply through his nose. “I hate you.”

Enyo beamed. “Oh, I love you, my little princess butcher.” She leaned in, voice dripping with amusement. “Now, go out there and make me proud, won’t you, damsel?”

Druses’ grip on his belt nearly snapped the fabric in half. By the time Enyo disappeared, still chuckling to herself, Druses was left standing in the middle of his tent, fists clenched, face burning, and very much considering throwing himself into the nearest fire.

This was humiliating.

And worst of all?

She wasn’t wrong.

—— Antinous strode through the camp with his usual air of confidence, stretching his sore shoulders after the morning’s brutal training session. The place was still in shambles from the ambush, but that didn’t mean there weren’t sights to appreciate amidst the chaos.

That’s when he saw her.

Or at least, he thought it was a her.

Standing a few paces away, a figure draped in soft, flowing fabric stood near one of the tents, their long, wavy black hair cascading down their back in a way that caught the dimming sunlight just right. Their form—small-waisted, hips accentuated by the golden sash tied snugly around them—looked enticingly feminine.

Antinous smirked to himself. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath, his usual cocky attitude kicking in. Without a second thought, he sauntered up behind them, let out a sharp whistle, and brought his palm down in a playful, solid smack against their ass.

The moment his hand made contact, he knew something was wrong. The muscles under his palm were too firm. The reaction—too fast. Because instead of a surprised giggle or a scandalized gasp, the figure went rigid. And then, very slowly, they turned around.

Antinous’ smirk froze.

Druses’ face was a picture of murderous rage. His striking purple eyes burned with the fury of a thousand battlefields, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like he was seconds away from biting something clean off. The delicate makeup dusted across his features only served to make his expression look even more terrifying.

Antinous blinked. Then blinked again.

“Oh, shit.”

Druses’ nostrils flared, his entire body shaking with barely contained wrath. Antinous, to his credit, only took a step back—not because he was scared, but because he was trying very hard not to burst out laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he finally said, grinning ear to ear. “Druses?”

“I am going to gut you like a fucking pig,” Druses snarled, fists tightening at his sides. Antinous, instead of apologizing like a normal person, laughed.

A deep, genuine laugh. “Oh, this is too good,” he wheezed, leaning against a tent post for support. “No wonder they picked you for the job.”

Druses took a threatening step forward, and Antinous put his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, hey—no need for violence, princess.” Druses lunged.

Antinous barely dodged the punch that came hurtling toward his face, still laughing as he backed away. “Alright, alright! I’ll stop!” Druses didn’t stop. Because he was out for blood.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4|frOgg3r @permanently-nothere

@eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world @simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches

@sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa@doodle-with-rhy

@0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl

@dazedemery @tsmaruchan @xo-cuteplosion-xo

@galaxygurIll @pjopinkk @h0ne4bee

@minteaspoon @zendoesstuff @yuvany @i-liketoast

[cozmowrites]

first time

First Time - Hozier

+++++

The battlefield was silent now, save for the faint crackling of distant flames. Smoke curled in the air, wrapping the ruined city in a suffocating haze. Dynamight stood in the center of it all, his chest rising and falling heavily as the adrenaline bled out of him. His palms still tingled with the aftershocks of his explosions, but his mind was elsewhere—on you.

You. The reason he fought harder than anyone else, the reason he pushed himself past the limits of his body and mind. Somewhere amidst the chaos, he'd caught sight of you—your form darting between collapsing buildings, your eyes fierce as you threw yourself into the fray. You'd held your ground against the villain's henchmen, refusing to back down, even as the odds stacked higher and higher against you.

The memory of it made his jaw tighten, guilt gnawing at him like a persistent flame. He should've been by your side. He should've kept you safe.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he turned, searching for you in the destruction.

He found you sitting against the wreckage of a collapsed storefront, blood streaking your temple and your breathing uneven. Relief and panic hit him in equal measure as he dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands hovering awkwardly before finally settling on your shoulders.

"Idiot," he growled, his voice rough but trembling at the edges. "Why the hell didn't you fall back when things got bad? Do you have a death wish or somethin'?"

You blinked up at him, a small, wry smile tugging at your lips despite the pain etched across your face. "Good to see you, too, Katsuki."

His scowl deepened, but the fear in his eyes betrayed him. "Don't play dumb with me. You're hurt."

"It's just a scratch," you lied, wincing as you shifted against the rubble.

Bakugou's hands moved to cup your face, tilting it so he could examine the cut on your forehead. His touch was surprisingly gentle—contrary to his usual explosive demeanor—and it made your heart twist in your chest.

"Shut up," he muttered, grabbing a cloth from his pocket to press against the wound. "You're lucky it's not worse."

Your eyes softened as you watched him. He was always like this—tough on the outside, all sharp edges and sparks, but underneath it was a man who cared more than he knew how to express.

"I'm fine, Katsuki," you said, your voice softer now.

"No, you're not," he shot back, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. "You're not fine. You never are, and you never tell me when you need help."

You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.

"Do you know what it's like? Watching you throw yourself into danger like you don't care what happens to you? Knowing I might not get there in time?"

His words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. You stared at him, stunned by the vulnerability he so rarely let slip.

"Katsuki..."

He shook his head, his hands falling away from your face. "I can't—" He swallowed hard, his voice breaking. "I can't lose you, okay? Not you."

The admission left him exposed, and for a moment, he looked almost fragile. You reached for him, your hand finding his and holding it tightly.

"You won't lose me," you said firmly, your voice steady despite the lump in your throat. "I'm not going anywhere."

He looked at you like he wanted to believe you, like he needed to believe you, but years of battles and losses had etched doubt into his soul.

"I mean it," you continued, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. "I know I'm reckless sometimes, but I'm still here, Katsuki. Because of you. You keep me grounded. You're my anchor."

His eyes searched yours, and for once, he let the weight of your words sink in. Slowly, he leaned forward, his forehead pressing gently against yours. The scent of smoke and sweat clung to him, but beneath it was the warmth that always drew you in.

"You're such a pain in the ass," he muttered, but his tone lacked its usual bite.

You chuckled softly. "Takes one to know one."

A quiet laugh rumbled in his chest, and for a moment, the world around you fell away. It was just the two of you, tangled in a fragile kind of peace amidst the chaos.

"I'm serious, though," he said after a beat, his voice quieter now. "Don't do that again. Don't make me—" He hesitated, his jaw clenching as he struggled to find the words.

"Worry?" you finished for him, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He huffed, his cheeks flushing faintly. "Yeah. That."

You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek in a tender gesture that made his breath catch. "I'll try," you promised. "For you."

His eyes softened, the storm within them calming ever so slightly. "You better," he muttered, but there was no anger in his tone, only a quiet desperation.

For the first time in a long while, Bakugou let himself linger in the moment. He let himself feel the warmth of your touch, the steady beat of your pulse beneath his fingertips. He let himself believe, just for a little while, that maybe everything would be okay.

Because with you by his side, he didn't feel so alone.

+++

masterlist ⟢

more bakugou ⟢

requests ツ

[sweetheartsnips]

Saiyans x Virgin Reader HCs

In honour of me being back on tumblr after like 6 years here are some short HCs for my fav Saiyans x virgin reader that I threw together while eating lunch. 

Not inherently explicit but 18+

A/N : you can probably expect more of this kinda stuff from me in between my more substantial stuff on ao3 from now on because I am possessed and have too many thoughts.

Goku 

Goku has quietly been waiting for you to bring up the topic for quite a while. He has tried to be subtle (but if Goku is anything it is definitely not subtle) with touches that linger a bit too long to innocent: squeezing your hips, thigh holding that goes a little too high, and eyes that wander over your body with that hungry look of his. Of course, he would be patient, just for you, and would wait until you were comfortable enough giving yourself to him in that way.

“Really? We can do that? Can we go and do it right now?”

Goku would get lost in the opportunity to show you how much he likes you in such a physical way. He works with his hands, after all. 

He would get so distracted– he would be so excited just for foreplay. Running his hands over your body greedily, going down on you like the himbo glutton he is. He would be so happy just like this, he would almost forget about the main event. 

A very vocal partner. Mostly just gibberish about how soft and wet you are, and how pretty you look. He would go all out to make you feel good (he has crazy stamina) and would make you scream at least a few times. 

Vegeta

Vegeta by nature is confident, dominant and has control of the entire situation. He wouldn’t ever tell you, but he has planned everything out to minimise any risk of disappointing you. He wants your first time to be perfect so as to not bruise your image of him. 

He is also quite possessive, and the thought that you are trusting him and him alone with this feeds his pride immensely. 

He is quite cocky, but also has the ability to please you to back it up. 

“I’m the only one that can give you this, let me take care of you.”

Would tease you for hours beforehand if you let him: it amuses him to see you squirm and beg. He can read your body like a map, exploiting all of your sensitive spots. 

“You’ve gone from so demure to so needy, I’ve ruined you already, haven’t I?” 

He wants you to think you’re lucky for having the opportunity to be intimate with a prince, but he actually feels grateful that you’re allowing him to be your first. 

Gohan

Gohan would be incredibly flustered when you ask him to be your first.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to disappoint you..”

Although ever humble, he is so flattered that you would choose him to take your virginity. He would take you on a date beforehand, give you oodles of affection and make sure the occasion is as comfortable and relaxing for you as possible.

Surprise! Once he is in bed with you he becomes a mess. Little whimpers and moans, his skin flushed but cool with sweat as he presses his body against you. 

“You feel so good…you look so perfect. Does that feel good, sweetheart?” 

Is entirely focused on you, and doesn’t draw things out for too long. He wants to please you, to be good for you. 

He watches your face closely, using your expressions and sounds as a guide, slowly becoming more and more sure of himself. Once he is sure you’re enjoying yourself, he finds it much easier to slip and lose himself in his own pleasure.

Gohan also gives the best aftercare ever.

Future Trunks

Trunks is a gentle lover, as gentle as they come. When you ask him to be your first, he would be over the moon, and excited to show his affection for you. 

“I promise I’ll make it good for you. We can do everything exactly as you want.”

Trunks would worship your body with caresses and kisses beforehand, taking things slowly to build your anticipation and show you how much he cares. His touch would be gentle, full of love and reverence. He doesn’t get the chance to show you often, between time travel and all. 

He would take you in missionary, cupping the side of your face and get lost in your pleasure-dazed eyes. As he senses your growing need, his touch will gradually become more firm and confident, feeding off of the way your body takes him. 

Trunks also moans pretty. 

“It’s like you were made for me…I’m so lucky.”

Afterwards, Trunks would hold you close, letting you rest against his muscly chest. Forehead kisses, savouring your smell. 

“Thank you for being mine.”

Broly (Super) 

Broly is initially confused.

“Your…first? First to do what?” 

When you sheepishly explain to him he goes as red as a tomato. It seems it would be his first time too. 

Your size differences would make things a little awkward to navigate first, but you end up being most comfortable underneath him, caged underneath his hulking body. He likes to have you like this: as if he is keeping you safe and shielding you from the world. Despite his imposing demeanour, he is a blushing mess– nervous and afraid of messing up.

Broly lets you take the lead a bit. He is very careful in foreplay, letting you guide him to ensure your safety and comfort. He is a little afraid of hurting you, and this is reflected in his timid actions, but he soon comes out of his shell with your reassurances.

He loves the taste of your skin, the warmth of your body. He is so touch-deprived that with each little brush of your skin against his he has to stifle a whine. 

Broly finds it difficult to find the right words to say, instead choosing to show you how much he enjoys you with his hands.

[vampworks]

Playing games you can't win

Pairing: Caleb x Reader

w/c: 1.1K

A/n: me and that chip have beef, also Caleb and dog coded love has me like charlie day at that red string board.

Summary:After three week of Caleb trying to win you over, you finally have enough. He quickly finds that he can't handle it.

Warning: Toxic love, pipspeak as a pet name, mourning, intimacy, angst, Caleb gets very little comfort

The push and pull was far too much. The heat was far too much. For three weeks, the two of you had been 'playing house' in Caleb's sad condo above the city. Your mission was long since ruined by the colonel, so your days were spent watching Wontony float around. You'd ask the poor robot questions about a man it seemed you both had just met.

'The Colonel was a cold, calculating shell of a man you couldn't stand. All attempts to draw a reaction were pointless. A cup thrown and shattered at his chest. His response? Nothing but an empty grin and tease. Caleb on the other hand, was all heat. He is just as touchy as he was when you were kids if not more. When he did appear, he'd test how far you would let him. His large hands carefully tread down your shoulders only to rest above the small of your waist. He stops completely, staring into your eyes and searching (Pleading) for approval. It hasn't come.

The once-narrowed eyes completely softened leaving behind a starved dog begging for anything akin to touch. You could have called him pathetic at the sight of him on his knees; hell, he sure does. The two of you were so close. Caleb was practically vibrating while pawing you in every place he could. Lilac eyes traced the curve of your jaw and neck as if you'd break if he lost even a moment of control. The epitome of every slow-burn romance you had forced him to see growing up. Each of those followed the same pattern. He studied each one just as closely as planes or bugs in the backyard.

meet-cute

build-up

some kind of misunderstanding breaking the progression and the two separate

The problem is resolved, and the music swells.

The big kiss

pg-13 rated makeout scene

and they ride off into the sunset

He had tried so hard to follow the plan. Maybe then you fall for him like he had from the start. Nothing about this "resurrection" has gone right so far, so here we are back at the starting line every time Caleb falls to catch himself. Far too much Far too soon

So he'll wait for you to make the first move. He'll wait like he always has, but now it kills him to know you're finally seeing him as the crazed man he is. No more hiding, no more wishing from afar.

Now is the time to call in reinforcements, so movie night it is. Don't ask how long it took to organize a full weekend off, but for you, it was more than worth it.

'10 things I hate about you' is on the screen before you both. The smell of braised chicken was still in the air from dinner as Caleb slowly inches his way to your side of the couch. By the time Heath Ledger sings on the bleachers, his left arm slowly comes to rest on the back of the couch. behind your head. After bickering over whether Cruel Intentions or Pretty Woman should be next, somehow your legs just fell into his lap. Oh no, guess you'll just have to leave them there because' the movie is starting. It seems 'Cruel Intentions' won while you aren't looking.

you were so focused on his dorky grin and teasing that he won again with his evol. The man chokes down a snort as the title card plays, but you only glare and huff. It's a small thing, but it only sets him back further behind as the memory of him holding your legs down with it comes crawling back up. Seeing red, you storm off. Sure, you're a sore loser, but dear God, can you have one night without feeling weak compared to him? Without the thought of the colonel.

He follows you throughout the apartment with a racing heart. He begs for another chance for you to just see things his way. His words go in one ear and out the other as you pack your things, practically shoving them back into your luggage. He stops you in the doorway, falling to his knees. "Please, let me fix this. I love you more than you could ever know. All of this has been for you." Large trembling fingers grasp around your legs, his head pressed into your waist. "Let go, Caleb." You muttered through gritted teeth. You couldn't play this game anymore. You weren't the kid he left behind, and he was the boy you had spent a year mourning. He only held tighter. "You don't understand, pip. I just got you back. How in the hell am I suppose' to live without you again?" He barked. You scoffed. "That's the thing. You can't fathom the idea of me gone, but I had to bury you. That's why I will always win this little game,huh?" You lift his head with your fingers beneath his chin. He lets out something like a whine. A new dark thought now surfaced: you'd give him exactly what he wanted from the start. You'd be his while you held his leash.

You bend down to kiss him. It's rough and heated. Nothing like those movies before. A disgusting mess of teeth clashing and you biting his lip till it bleeds. Neither of you pulled away for air, now in a game of who would own the other and who was a coward. Caleb seems to break as tears threaten to fall down the apple of his cheeks. Every voice in his head screams out to grab you and never let go, but he doesn't. He told you that any pain you gave him was a gift to be cherished, and this was no different.

Soon enough, the man is a mess, gazing back up at you as you pull away. "Breathe, Caleb. I love you too." Your voice is sickeningly sweet as your hands find purchase in his hair, soothing him. "Bye~." The door slams,

A second later, you're gone down the hall, bring up a finger to swipe away the blood.

There's a gaping hole in my chest. A you-sized hole that aches and calls out to be filled. For years I watched over you as a dog guarding its flock. My teeth and claws protected you from the wolves all around but I was just as hungry as them. I longed for your taste as I kissed your wounds. I dreamt of your touch as you hugged me. My eyes are tearing into your flesh just as they would. I am no better, but maybe You have always known this and loved me anyway. Maybe your love will absolve my sins.

[pinksugarscrub]

My Punny Valentine

Jason Todd x fem! Reader

There's nothing better than movie nights with Jason but with Valentine's approaching, tonight is...a special occasion.

( @hyperfix-wip again, my beautiful apricot tart beta reader❣️)

Word count: 1,027

Warnings: cursing, sugar rush

~

The kitchen is…not necessarily in ruins. All of the ingredients have been responsibly returned to the pantry and fridge. It’s the bowls and whisks in the sink that are effectively killing the vibe of cute and demure.

Wiping away the sugar and flour from the counter you’re preparing a space for yourself and most importantly Jason.

Your lovable boyfriend is across the room. Flipping to the first movie on your list, Pride and Prejudice. Freshly showered and smelling like the expensive products you had gifted him on your anniversary.

When he returns to your side he’s quick to wrap his arms around your waist and bury his nose into the crook of your neck. He smells even more amazing up close; it almost makes your head spin.

“Almost ready babe? Looks delicious.”

You snort, refraining from making a less than innocent comment as you nod. “The cakes are chilling in the fridge. Will you get them for me?”

Jason chuckles, planting a kiss on your temple. “Course princess.”

You swoon because no matter how many times Jason has talked to you so sweetly, he still manages to make you giddy. Shameless or not, he could be the judge of that, you follow him with your eyes. Admiring the loose shirt and wonder woman themed sweats he had chosen to wear.

Seeing him so relaxed was what you lived for. There’s only so much you understand about his work as Red Hood along with his family (who are lovely by the way). Just the two of you for the second night in a row is making you crave this domestic life every night.

“You gonna keep undressing me with those pretty eyes or are we gonna decorate these?”

Jason laughs as your face contorts into embarrassment. Both of his hands are occupied with small heart shaped cakes.

Occupying yourself with grabbing Jason an apron so you don’t have to answer, you promptly walk past him. He only laughs harder as he sets the cakes down.

Your apron is already caked with flour, batter, and icing. So you’re careful not to smear any on him when he ducks down so you can adjust his apron.

Your fingers trace down his neck to reach the strings at his waist when he stops you. He takes your momentary confusion as the opportunity to kiss your lips. Tasting the sugar you most definitely ate while you were making the frosting.

“What was that for?” You ask in a daze. Certainly not complaining but definitely not expecting to feel weak at the knees.

“Do I need a reason?”

“No,” you slowly grin, “I guess not.”

Jason returns your grin while tying his apron expertly.

A wheeze leaves your lips once you’ve noticed the lettering on his chest. You hadn’t realized you had grabbed that one.

“What? Oh no,” he groans. Rolling his eyes at the ridiculous gift Dick had gotten him.

“No no!” You exclaim while putting your hands on his chest when he prepares to rip it off. Struggling to breathe through your words. “It’s fine Jace. Really.”

“Fine my ass.”

“Yes it is.”

“...not now babe.”

Raising your hands in mock defeat you walk over to the counter. Wiping away the tears that had collected in the corner of your eye. “Alright, alright. Cake first.”

Jason sighs but keeps the gag worthy, burn-it-in-a-sewer thing on. “And Austen.”

“You mean Keira Knightley,” you correct.

“She is pretty attractive.”

“Right!? I don’t know about Mr. Darcy though…couldn’t they have picked I don’t know-”

“So you know Elizabeth’s actress but not Darcy’s?” Jason raises a brown. Bumping your hip with his as he slides comfortably beside you.

“It’s Keira Knightly!” You protest. Reaching for a piping bag of red icing to hand to him.

“Name one other movie she’s been in.”

You open your mouth but your mind has drawn a blank. After a moment of silence you finally speak up. “I don’t like this game anymore.”

“It wasn’t a game to begin with sweetheart.”

Sticking your tongue out childishly you reach for your own bag of icing. “Ok ok, ready?”

Jason hums as he smiles. “Teach away.”

Sure, Jason is proficient in the kitchen.

If he really wanted to, he could figure out the intricacies of cake decorating. But when you brought the idea of having a Jane Austen themed movie night, especially so close to Valentine’s day, he couldn’t say no. When did he ever say no to spending time with you when he was finally off patrol?

Jason knows how hard it is. While he’s gaining bruises you’re here, in your apartment, worried. He’s also quite sure that despite the brave face you put on, you've missed him. Especially in these last few months.

Rejoining his family has created caseload after caseload and awkward meetings with Bruce (Which you graciously listen to him rant about when he comes home to you).

Oh you were perfect.

Put up with his shit and took care of him when he couldn’t do it himself. He never was one to think he’d take on a partner. Dating “coworkers” was too hectic and his life wasn’t anywhere near normal but you made it easy. You added to his life.

As you started explaining the different borders you could create with a variety of star tips he leans in closer. Letting you take his hand and slowly squeeze the piping bag together to show him the consistency.

There were times where he purposefully kissed along your shoulder when you were explaining. It was his absolute favorite thing to do. Watch you squirm and try to focus.

The movie played quietly in the background and rain soon accompanied it. That was another thing.

Rain didn’t make him feel gloomy anymore. Instead his memories were filled with you. Curled up with a book. In his lap as you switched between reading for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy while the rain came down.

By the time you’re both finished there are several puns iced along your cake and frosting on both of your noses.

Overall the night was perfect and yes, Jason accepted your request of being your punny valentine.

-

Taglist: @insideoutjulie

[regretisstoredintheme]

Kiss. (A Oneshot) - Rise!Leonardo X Reader

Warnings(?): Hurt small comfort, Leo hates he ass but specifically in context to you

—

For Leo, self deprecation has always been.. his thing.

At least it was for you.

“You were my first kiss.” It’s a mumble, a smile, sunlight lighting up the room through the curtains. You sound so proud, like that event wasn’t the asteroid that collided into earth a billion years ago.

“Oh, yeah?” He laughs, you know that laugh, it’s not his, it’s not what lights up your sky, it’s not the moon out your window. “That’s certainly a way to gain experience!” He’s doing it again. He’s ramping up to a joke.

but it’s not the kind that sweeps you off your feet. It’s not the featherlight touch of his hand on your side and it’s not the bubbles of joy that leave your mouth whenever he speaks. It is a dagger, and it’s not aimed at you.

“Didn’t mean to ruin your expectations.” He elbows your side, but you don’t laugh with him. You don’t know how to tell him that his blood did not give off nitrous oxide as he so thought. It’s hard when, for him, the line between the joke, and the one making it, had become so blurred.

“You didn’t.” It slipped out. An accident. The very same way your first kiss had happened, through a desire that was expressed so suddenly.

His head slowly turned, eyes locked on your own. They didn’t have the mirth you remember, that you loved so much. His smile slowly faded, like a soldier being forced to admit he’d been afraid. Like a soldier, sacrificing himself for the team.

“Well, but—“ like a soldier that gets back up again, that hides the wound, that bandages themself all alone and won’t let anyone see it. The weakness. The pain. “Obviously it was different than you imagined, right..?” And the blood seeps through the clothes, and they can’t hide, and they can’t look away, and they need help. He needs help. He needs you.

“Every first kiss is different than people first imagine.” Your eyes stare back at his own, tired of the war, tired of the injuries. A nurse who wants to do their damn job. But there is no war, and there is no stab wound, just You, and Leo, and his self deprecation.

“But for you,” because it’s not just a joke. “It was even better than I could have imagined.” And it’s never been a joke.

“…”

And he’s never been a joke.

“I never thought I’d even get a first kiss.” He says.

—

A/n: tees and hees. This was mostly abstract?? idk you could honestly imagine this to whoever you wanted who self deprecates, but I haven’t written anything in a HOT MINUTE and I felt the sudden URGE yk. I feel like I’ve lost my muchness a little bit, but yk it eees what it eees.

[natsuki208]

Mikasa Ackerman! Strongest Girl With That One Flaw

Today is that day when I can express once more of how much of a Mikasa defender I am! But despite all the good, I will acknowledge the major flaw that caused many to dislike her as well, and unfortunate ruined her character going onward.

(Plz, I don’t wanna see any of you haters here for this girl on her special day, thank you)

-

We all know of Mikasa’s strengths; figuratively and literally. She’s known as one of the manga/anime’s strongest fighters, due to her Ackerman blood and what she had to go through as a child. It was because of both her power and compassion is how she managed to save citizens of Trost to escape the city in S1. She showed signs of a dependable soldier.

One other noticeable side of her character that got explored a lot more within the story was her connection with Eren, and that divided a lot of the fans as the series went on. On one hand, it reflects back to when Eren saved her from being sold for profit and how much his kindness meant to her, but on the other hand, it slowly started to isolate her from other important aspects needed to keep her interesting.

But it wasn’t all that bad; to me that is. There have been times when Mikasa showed worry for her other closest friend Armin, protecting him and comforting him during hard times, swung in to save Historia and Sasha from titans, checked on Connie by asking if he’s okay, and even was concerned about Levi’s ankle.

So yeah. Mikasa grew connections with almost everyone around her, opening up to have more friends within her small circle since her childhood, however, her feelings for Eren started to overlap those friendships. Not that it is a bad thing, I love how the two grew closer as the series went on but it really shouldn’t be the only important part of her development. A healthy mixture of all her traits would’ve made a better experience.

Sadly, the concept of her undying love for Eren gets heavily exaggerated in the dreaded fourth season.

By that I mean for most of her screentime she spend worrying about Eren and only him. Sure there was… Sasha, but it didn’t really last for very long. In fact, she didn’t really speak much to anyone other than Armin afterwards, and I thought she’d be more open to help them out with their own struggles.

In fact, her love for Eren seemed to have made her more fragile to his own thoughts as well, like when he spoke his mind and pretended to admit he hated her, she got over emotional.

(this is the same girl who didn’t hesitate to punch him in the face when he went too far)

But at the end of the day, it didn’t really matter since she managed to save the world by killing Eren with her own hands but still has him at the front of her mind years later. Yes, it can be hard to move on but at least show some scenes of her bonding with her other friends, even leaving Armin in the dust.

-

Anyway, happy birthday, you poor girl. You deserved much better. Not as in Eren, but as in better writing to expand your character. I had a lot more to say but I don’t wanna make this too long. Maybe I’ll update this later on.

[ddodol]

Hai ddodol i cant get rid of eunseok w inexperienced reader n the possibilities of corrupting her like.....

:3 i love the experienced x inexperienced dynamic so much i'm surprised i haven't written about one yet.

eunseok as your first bf who's always careful and gentle around you, as if you were fragile glass. he would be perfect, an exact description of your ideal type, like a prince charming of your own. it wouldn't take you too long to realize that he was just putting up a front, taking you by surprise when you saw his eyes flash dangerously when you two finally got intimate. eunseok would go insane seeing you writhe underneath him, your reactions urging him even more. he'd constantly describe his actions or how you feel or taste, chuckling when your cheeks would turn impossibly redder than before. eunseok would always ask how you feel, cooing at you as he relentlessly pleasures you.

meanie bf eunseok who wouldn't shut up about how tight you were, warm walls fluttering around him. you'd be confused with how roughly he was treating you, a huge contrast to how he treats you during the day, your pretty little head befuddled with needless thoughts. you would repeat after his words, pleased when he'd smile at you like he always does. eventually, you would learn what gets him off and how he likes it, becoming completely his and only his.

[thisismyworldyeah]

.

[insidekatmind]

Valentine’s Day-Alejandro Balde

The night of Valentine's Day has arrived, wrapped in a dreamlike atmosphere. Barcelona is illuminated by a thousand lights, the streets are deserted, and the sky above you is a deep blue, with stars dancing to the rhythm of your love. The cold of winter is only faint, but the warmth you feel beside you, in Alejandro’s figure, is enough to make you forget every shiver.

Alejandro takes your hand, and when his skin touches yours, a shiver of happiness runs through your body. "Are you cold?" he asks sweetly, and without waiting for your answer, he wraps you in his jacket, holding you close. His closeness feels like an embrace that protects you from the world.

"I want to give you a night you'll never forget," he says in a soft voice, almost a whisper, as if afraid to ruin the enchantment of that moment. His eyes are full of affectionate determination, and you can’t help but melt in front of him. Your heart beats faster, feeling that, somehow, he knows exactly what makes you happy.

You follow him as he leads you to a quiet corner of the city, where the streets are silent, and the sound of your steps is lost in the echo of the night. In the distance, you see a small carriage pulled by a white horse, moving slowly toward you. Alejandro smiles at you and motions for you to get in. "A surprise for you," he says as he helps you settle beside him, and the carriage starts moving gently.

The sound of the wheels on the cobblestone is the only noise that breaks the silence. The city stretches before you, with its narrow alleys and ancient buildings that shine under the moon. You look around, enchanted, but your gaze quickly returns to him. Alejandro is so close, and his hand on yours is warm, reassuring. Occasionally, his fingers brush yours with infinite tenderness, as if afraid to break the spell.

"Did you know that for me, Valentine's Day isn’t just a date on the calendar?" he asks, his voice light but full of meaning. "Every moment with you is special. Every day, every smile, every little gesture. But tonight..." His words pause for a moment, as if he’s searching for the right ones. "Tonight, I want you to know how much I love you."

Your heart explodes in your chest, and your response comes out without thinking: "I love you too, more than words can say."

The carriage stops in front of a quiet park, and Alejandro gently guides you to a wooden bench, covered with soft cushions. There, beneath a tree decorated with soft lights, it feels as if the whole world has stopped to give you space. Every breath you take seems to synchronize with his, and the beat of your hearts merges into a single rhythm.

"I wanted it to be perfect," he says, looking at you with intensity, as if you were the only thing that exists in his world. "Because you’re perfect for me."

Without saying a word, you move closer and place your hands on his face, your thumbs gently caressing his skin. The air is charged with emotion, with a silent tension that grows between you, and in an instant, his lips find yours. The kiss is tender at first, a gentle contact, but it quickly deepens, as if telling a story that only the two of you understand.

Every gesture, every caress is an expression of love, desire, and passion that needs no words. Time seems to stretch, as if the night never wanted to end. And while your eyes lose themselves in his, the world completely dissolves. The only thing that matters is him, and you, together, in a corner of eternity.

"It will always be like this," Alejandro says between kisses. "Always with you."

And in that moment, with your heart beating in unison with his, you know that nothing will ever separate you. The night of Valentine's Day turns into a memory that will remain forever engraved in your hearts.

[okcoolthanks]

I’m afraid I drifted too far

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Yandere!Vampire that was once royalty, living in a dilapidated castle, alone and depressed. As a human, he was surrounded by people. Everyone adored him, his golden curls and warm brown eyes charming the hearts of every noble that set eyes on him.

That was until his family was slaughtered by a coven of vampires, leaving him the only survivor. Now with no family, he was turned away from the nobles that once gathered at his side, calling him beautiful and intelligent. Now he was a beast, and was only left alive because no one dared to touch him.

As the years passed by, all that knew of his existence died out, meaning no one remembered or cared for him. In the past, he had at least been grateful he had been in someone’s thoughts, even if it was in a negative light. Now, no one even hated him. He was just nonexistent to the world outside his castle.

Centuries passed by, every day slowly picking at the last bits of his sanity. Days of past grandeur and the current day mixed together, leaving him in a state where he couldn’t tell whether he was back in the living arms of his family, or wandering the dark, crumbling hallways of his childhood home.

It was only when a soft, warm light flooded one of the abandoned rooms he had been standing in that the fog in his brain began to fade, allowing him to see what was in front of him for the first time in decades.

It was you, a young woman in a hoodie and jeans, holding a flashlight. You lived only a mile away, and had been exploring when you came upon ruins of what seemed like an ancient castle.

You had heard rumors of a person that wandered the ruins from the townsfolk, and old tales of vampires that had been passed down by tongue for centuries. Not believing them, you decided to see for yourself…

Your light shone upon what you first thought was an ethereal ghost or some kind of beautiful spirit. A man with a mop of blonde curls, porcelain skin, and the most beautiful pair of ruby red eyes you’ve ever seen stared back at you.

The person attempted to speak, but clutched his throat, as if he hadn’t spoken in so long, his vocal cords had forgotten how.

“H-hello?”

The man perked up at the sound of your voice, his eyes clearing up. It seemed just hearing another human speak made his undead heart leap, and he couldn’t help but stumble towards you.

You yelped when he crossed the room within seconds and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply.

The smell of another person, of sweat and perfume mixing together to make your own unique scent made him want to sob.

Of course you were freaked out, but the man holding onto you wasn’t hurting you, and you could feel warm tears soaking through your shirt. How could you turn away someone that was obviously in distress?

Unsurprisingly, the man followed you home. It didn’t take a genius to realize he wasn’t human. He was as pale as a sheet of paper, with no pulse or any color to his cheeks. His eyes were scarlet, a shade you had never seen a human have before.

Despite knowing this, you couldn’t help but care for him. He was thin, malnourished, with clothing that was so old and dirty that it nearly crumbled when he took them off.

“Are you hungry?”

You had taken to asking only yes or no questions, since he couldn’t speak. The man frowned, his eyes getting foggy for a second. You decided to ask again.

“Hello? Are you-“

He suddenly snapped back into reality, leaning forward to gently place his lips on your neck. You squeaked out in surprise when you felt his teeth sink into your neck… but it didn’t hurt. Instead, you only felt an uncomfortable pressure and draining sensation, and before long he was pulling back.

“Mmph…” he panted softly, blood running down his chin. “Was… so… thirsty…” he managed to say, his voice hoarse and small.

He cupped your cheek, holding your face in his hands and looking down at you with what could only be described as utter adoration.

“My love…”

From that point on, he was attached to your hip, following you everywhere you went like a lovesick puppy. Any time you were separated, he had severe anxiety, going back and forth from his dreamworld and reality. It was his coping mechanism, but it caused him to never understand what was real and what wasn’t.

You grounded him, made him feel safe and loved. Oh how he adored you. You had saved him from his lonely existence and taken him into your home as if he were a stray dog, and he was loyal like one. His loyalty came at a price, however, and that price was your freedom to do as you pleased.

Late nights out with friends became next to nonexistent, especially if he knew there would be any males there.

“I just want to protect you, my beloved. It’s a dangerous, cruel world. People will act as if they love you when they do not…”

And as you slowly became more and more isolated, his affections only grew. Kisses to your hand began to trail up your arm and to your neck. Snuggles turned into grinding and heavy petting, and even the most innocent of caresses became lewd in nature.

It didn’t take long for him to fuck you for the first time. After all, he had been pent up and alone for centuries, resisting taking you on the spot was excruciating.

The second he sunk into your pussy, he came. You were just so warm and your scent made his head fuzzy. He couldn’t help but fuck into you like a wild animal, feeding from your pretty neck as he filled you up over and over.

After the first time, a day didn’t pass by when he didn’t crave your intimate touch. Some days he was satisfied with heavy petting and kisses, others he couldn’t be satiated until his face was between your legs, lapping at your cunt for hours.

You were his, his mate, his lover. He couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore, so could you really blame him when he clung to you so tightly?

He just loved you, and he did such a good job at keeping you satisfied, just enough to where you didn’t look into the missing cases of your old lovers and male friends.

Why would you need to pay attention to any of that when your loving, attentive boyfriend was right there, ready to worship you from head to toe?