#but rest assured . its all pretty good

[stump-not-found]

they're chillin

[jckeperalta]

just a little heads up: once i finish supernatural (a little over 3 seasons left), it's over for you bitches

[kitteninabunker]

cw: gunplay, dubcon (??), semi-public sex, gagging, mentions of death but nobody dies so rest assured, spit, pretty rushed, lil drabble be i had to write about my man being icky b4 i forgot >.<

"are you gonna be obedient? or should i splatter these pretty little guts all over this wall?"

you don't know how you got here, and by here, i mean in an alleyway, with your brand new white skirt pooled around your ankles and nearly torn to shreds, your freshly manicured nails digging into the muscular flesh of a strange man who's stuffing your slick cunt with the shaft of his gun, his index finger is dangerously close to the trigger as his wet tongue peaks out from between his scarred lips to swipe the shell of your ear.

isn't it just your luck that you ran out of instant ramen tonight, meaning you had to walk outside to the closest convenience store all alone? hey, it isn't your fault that you're a broke college student who's just trying to make ends meet. the news warned civilians of a man lurking on the streets, described as tall, black hair, and incredibly dangerous, but they didn't mention hot. it just so happens that the same man, serialkiller!toji, has you gagged with your own panties, your back arched, stifling your cries and whimpers so not even the oblivious pedestrians passing by the whole scene know just how much danger you're in.

you slowly nod your head in compliance, careful and nervous not to make the wrong move just in case this creep decides he wants to end your life with a bullet through your uterus. "good," toji growls, slowly sliding his gun out of your tight little pussy, leaving it clenching around nothing as he brings the firearm up to his mouth to lick your sweet juices off of it. "j-just take my money, anything!!!!" you're desperately trying to plead with him, your voice muffled by your panties as tears stream out of your eyes, leaving the makeup on your face streaky. oh, who were you kidding? he clearly didn't care about robbing some girl for her money, your purse had dropped onto the ground with all of your belongings spilling out when toji grabbed you, your tiny pink pocket book sits there and you want to kick it toward him. there had to be a possibility that money would divert him from whatever he has planned for you, right?

let's say he did wanted to rob you, why would he bother to strip you naked, making you arch your back as the bright red store lights shine down on you beneath the dark nighttime sky, highlighting the curve of your hips and ass, making your slick folds glisten? he's trying to humiliate you, proving he can break any bitch into being his slut.

"i don't need your money, babygirl."

dammit.

"you're gonna give me this tight, virgin pussy." toji declares, his voice low as goosebumps riddle your skin. "college girls study better whenever they're bred by big, scary men like me, hm?"

well, it's not like you've ever had anyone's dick inside of you. his hypothesis could be correct, but you had bigger fish to fry now that the cool barrel of his gun is pressing into your temple, wet with his spit and your own slick. "d—don't kill me..." a part of you wants to shut your eyes and accept your fate, welcoming whatever is waiting for you in the afterlife, wishing he'd pull that trigger to put you out of your current misery. "scared little lamb." toji chuckles, retracting the gun from your head as he slides it into his back pocket. "m' not gonna kill you either."

the confirmation puts you a bit at ease, this totally isn't how you're gonna die!

toji's brings his calloused, large hand to rub your soft belly as he holds your waist. he swiftly unzips his pants and tugs them down, before the fabric can even hit his thighs, his fat, mushroom tip hits his abdomen as his cock flings out. he holds the base of his dick, slapping his hard length on your asscheek. you gulp thickly, its not even inside of you, yet you can still sense how bad this thing is gonna stretch you out, you don't know if you're ready for it.

you sharply suck in a breath of air as he moves his dick to slide it between your drooling pussy lips, the aching tip brushes against your clit which makes you arch your back deeper. "a-aaah!" you gasp, and toji quicky slaps his hand over your mouth. "quiet, little one." he says, lining himself up with your fluttering hole. "don't wanna get caught out here, now do we?" you shake your head in response, dare you say that you don't wanna get caught bent over by a killer? even if help arrived? toji spreads the bead of precum leaking out of his slit around, mixing it with your slick as his tip prods at your entrance.

then, you feel the burn, the stretch of your hymen as toji slowly pushes his hips forward, his thick pink tip slipping inside of you as you curl your fingers into his skin to grip his arms tighter. "do you want this?" toji asks, leaning his head close to your ear as he kisses it. want what, exactly? a crazy guy fucking you in a dingy alleyway? you'd appreciate it if he would at least buy a motel room, but you can't really complain, or think as his fingers move to your clit and make your brain short-circuit. “yeshhh...” you slur out, already so cock drunk and he hasn't even put his cock fully inside.

toji trusts his hips forward, his entire shaft slipping inside of you as your nails dig deeper into his skin. you forget about the possibility of dying right here tonight, the only thing you can focus on is the way his big cock just feels sooo good inside of you, almost as if you were made to take this psycho's dick. you feel your walls clamping down on toji's cock, molding to it's shape which sends a jolt of pleasure through the both of you.

the slick, wet sounds of your creamy pussy taking him in so deep are the only noise coming from the alley, drowned out by the nightlife in the city as you mewl incoherent babbles as toji keeps fucking you, gripping the flesh of your ass tightly as your plush skin fills the gaps of his fingers. "nnngh—too much..." your soft, whimpering voice escapes your parted lips, your knees tingle, slowly giving up as they struggle to keep you upright.

"you like getting your pussy stretched open by sickos like me?" toji asks, slapping your asscheeks and leaving a stinging red hand print on it. you nod your head, biting down harder on your panties as he fucks you from behind. he doesn't let you adjust to the feeling of his thick cock splitting your pussy open, no, he loves the way that warm, tight mouth between your legs grips onto him so tight, he's only fucking you so he can feel good. "you're taking me in so deep," he groans, his thrust growing sloppier. "no wonder you girls get pregnant so easily."

he spreads your fat cunt apart so he can stuff his cock deeper inside of you, his tip kisses your cervix almost instantly as he bullies himself into your tight heat. his fingers keep rubbing slow circles around your sensitive button, making your soft thighs shut around his wrist. he watches the white ring of your slick bubble at the base of his dick as he slams his hips against your ass, the thick push of pubic hair tickles your skin but turns you on nonetheless.

before you know it, you're cumming, squirting all over toji's dick as he stays inside of you. his finger flicks your clit harder as your juices spray out. you literally see starts as toji grips your jaw tightly to keep your quiet as you reach your high. he pulls out, giving his cunt-juice-soaked shaft a slow pump as he nuts on your lower back, spreading your thick sheet of slick around his tip. you feel the warm spurts of cum hitting your skin, toji wipes some of it up as he brings his finger up to your lips, pulling your panties out of your mouth so you can have a taste of his load.

you tighten your lips around his thick finger, suckling his cum off of them as the pad of his thumb pressed into your clit. "that taste good, baby?" he asks, biting his lip as he grabs your arm to turn you around, grabbing your face as he squishes your lips. "open." you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out as toji leans over your head to land a glob of spit on your tongue. you pull your tongue back into your mouth as you swallow his saliva, he takes your hand and slaps a heavy wad of cash into your palm.

"thanks for the free pussy."

[pettysreverie]

Kinda really obsessed with the idea of him becoming super obsessed with you after fucking you…

CW: AFAB!Reader, stalking, obsessive behavior, yandere-esque behavior (if I missed something, pls kindly let me know!)

Like, I imagine that maybe he’s just come back from deployment? Would explain why he’s so starved for a good fuck, ya know?

Probably meets you in a pub (bc duh) and after a few drinks between the two of you, you both decide to go back to his place.

He figures it’s gonna be nothing too big of a deal. Certainly nothing he hasn’t done before.

Who hasn’t taken a bird back from the pub for a good fuck?

But the moment he slides into your cunt, he knows that he’d been wrong.

Whatever he’d been doing before was not fucking. Was not having sex. Because sex with you—with your slutty cunt and those heavenly sounds you make—is bewitching.

As if your cunt is putting him deeper and deeper under a spell with every twitch and clench.

A spell he gladly welcomes.

Your body is so soft and beautiful. And you…you’re so pliant and willing—batting those pretty lashes at him with that dazed, fucked out look in your eyes.

And that’s when the spell cements.

When a flip switches inside of him.

When something…changes.

He grips your ankles and hoists your legs over his shoulders to drive his cock even deeper inside of your quivering heat.

Your back bows off the bed and your hands grapple the sheets, moans tumbling from your kiss swollen lips as your eyes nearly roll all the way back.

“Yer mine. All mine.”And there’s a stutter in his breath as he moans, his hips momentarily stuttering in their otherwise relentless movements. “Say it fer me, love.”

But with the way he’s got you practically folded in half—knees all but bent to your chest with your legs draped over his back—replying to him is the furthest thing from your mind right now.

He angles his hips, driving long and deliciously thick cock directly into your sweet spot over and over again—seemingly determined to drive you insane with pleasure.

Seemingly determined to fuck you positively dumb.

“Say. It.”He grits out, his voice taking on an almost animalistic, growling tone.

There is something so primal about his command. Something about it brings out such a fundamental instinct in you that you cannot help but to comply—to submit.

“Y-Yours…”You manage to utter amongst your incoherent babbling and moaning.

One word.

You only speak one word.

But one word is all he needed to hear.

He fucks you well into the morning. The sun rises, its light shining through the cracks in the curtains by the time he turns you loose and allows you to rest.

And rest you do.

When you wake up, it’s practically evening!

You’re quite embarrassed. But like the gentleman he is, he assures you that he does not mind. In fact, he even offers to pay for your transportation home.

You decline, too embarrassed about your faux pas.

And for you? You assume that, while this was an amazing experience, it was a one time thing. You don’t expect to see him again.

But you do.

You run into him again and again and again.

At the market. At the park. At the coffee shop.

It’s fate! It’s the universe! It’s gotta be something, right?

It’s…him.

You really thought he was going to let you go after that world altering fuck? The way you blew his mind? The way your cunt hypnotized him?

Silly, beautiful, stupid woman.

Just the thought of someone else having you like that…no, he doesn’t even want to think about it.

How could he let you get away?

No, he had to hack your phone.

Not like it was hard…sure he’s more of a “field” agent. More used to having a gun in his hand and his boots on the ground, but he’s no stranger to some lines of spyware code.

Besides, you made it quite easy for him by sleeping in as long as you did…not that he minded of course!

You look so peaceful while you sleep. So beautiful, actually.

And really, he was so very glad he’d hacked your phone. How else was he supposed to know where you lived when you rejected his offer to pay for your transportation home?

But now that he’s in your phone, he’s practically in your life already.

Every contact you have saved, he knows.

Every place you go, he knows and can go there too. (How do you think your two have been running into each other so often?)

Every post you like. Every pin you save. Every song you playlist. He knows it all.

Not that you know it…not that you ever will.

He’ll let you believe it’s fate. Or the universe. Or whatever. Doesn’t matter to him, really.

Besides, you’re already his.

You even said so yourself…remember?

(Oh you don’t? Then why doesn’t he just remind you?)

[meowdei]

“What’s got you so grumpy?”

Sukuna dodges your finger. It fails to meet its destination of his cheek as he tilts his head to the side, earning a frown from you before you huff and try again.

He looks up from his phone with an irritated glance when your fingertip digs into his face.

“What are you talking about?” He grunts.

He knows exactly what you’re talking about. Normal Sukuna is irritable enough—grumpy Sukuna is about as bad tempered as a hornet who’s had its nest kicked. (Which is to say: he’s pretty fucking unfriendly at the moment.)

“You’re sulking,” you point out—and that statement earns a sharp glare from him as you seat yourself on his lap. (Still, he makes room easily for you, leaning back on the couch and putting his phone down to the side so his hands can rest on your hips. Grumpy Sukuna is never grumpy enough to push your body away—if anything, it’s the one way to get him less agitated).

“I’m not fucking sulking,” he says. It’s almost petulant, but you have enough grace to spare his dignity and not point it out. “I don’t sulk.”

“Are you sure?” You raise a disbelieving brow—he clicks his teeth at the way you choose to question him, but it softens considerably when your lips peck his jaw delicately. “You look pretty sulky to me.”

“Get your eyes checked.”

“Can’t. Then I might see you for all your ugliness. We wouldn’t want to throw years down the drain once I come to my senses do we?”

It’s his turn to raise a brow, sarcastically snorting as you give him a cheeky wink. “If you wanna try ‘n be a smart ass, at least be realistic about it. Saw you checking me out just this morning through the mirror.”

“Maybe you need your eyes checked,” you huff, “I was not checking you out.”

“Pretty sure you were,” he smirks, lips pulling into a haughty grin. Getting under your skin with his smugness is about the only way to cheer him up, it seems, because he looks rather pleased when he adds, “it’s okay. Don’t blame ya for bein’ possessed by my impressive physique.”

“Too bad your personality isn’t as dazzling,” you quip back easily.

It’s meant to be lighthearted, of course—but it seems to be the wrong thing to say. Quite wrong, in fact, because as soon as the words escape you, he tenses before locking his jaw.

There’s a flash of something in his eyes. Something you don’t think you’ve ever seen in Sukuna’s face—doubt. It’s a little odd, in all realness. Sukuna is not a doubtful person. He’s confident, and he’s confident enough that it’s almost to a fault. He’s cocky and smug and sometimes a little too self-assured for it to be considered good for his health.

It’s a bit unsettling to see his face almost fall at something you say, especially when you just say it for the sake of light banter.

“Yeah?” He chuckles dryly. It sounds dangerously self-deprecating—enough that it makes you frown. “Good thing I have my abs to keep you glued to my side then, huh?”

“Well, it’s not just your abs,” you hum, one hand smoothing over his shirt to feel the ridges of his muscles through the shirt. “Your boobs are pretty great, too.”

To prove your point, you give his left pectoral a gentle squeeze. He scowls before shoving your hand away as blush creeps along the back of his neck.

“You fucking freak,” he mutters.

Something is bothering him. You know you can’t directly ask it out of him, otherwise he’ll deny it left and right, but something is bothering him. Sukuna is not good with words or emotions. In fact, he’s pretty awful at anything that has to do with anyone’s feelings. (He’s better about yours more than other’s, but he’s pretty far from good.)

You don’t mind. There’s something oddly charming about witnessing the way he navigates softening up for you—it’s like watching a baby take their first steps. Wobbly. Slow. Unsure. Pretty badly executed, but endearingly rewarding all at the same.

Except, this time, it’s not your emotions he’s navigating. For some reason, yours are easy than his own. Navigating yours means he doesn’t have to try. He knows you better than he knows himself. Knows when your feelings are hurt by the twitch of your brows alone. Knows you’re sad by the dimness in your eyes. Knows you’re pretending joy when your laugh is quieter than usual. Knows you’re faking it when your smile is a much more tight lipped and a less bright version.

But his own feelings are complicated. A lot more than he cares to try and understand them for. In true Sukuna fashion, he always aims to ignore his problems until they seemingly disappear.

But you’re too difficult to let that slide. He brushes things under the rug, and you pull the rug from under his feet and make him fall face first into his problems.

“Hey,” you nudge him, cupping his face with your hand gently, “what’s gotten into you? It’s weird when you’re not pissing me off a couple of times every hour.”

“And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” He challenges, like your words seem to tick him off more, “what are you sittin’ here for if I’m always pissing you off?”

Oh, you think. So that’s what it is.

You smile, humming before you gently tilt his face up. Something vulnerable is attached to that frown of his. Like he’s waiting for your answer because he needs something to hold onto. Some metaphorical lifeline where your feelings are attached to his own, just to keep you chained together. Where you’re always somewhere that he also is. Where he doesn’t have to care about his emotions because what you feel is what he feels, too, and as long as you’re okay, so is he.

But you care. You seem to care a pretty great deal because you lean in and brush your nose against his as you kiss his lips softly.

“Who cares if you piss me off?” You snort, “I piss you off better. I’m pretty good at it.”

“You are,” he agrees instantly.

You give him a fleeting huff against his mouth as you mumble, “you don’t have to agree so fast.”

It pulls a small laugh from him, making his arms snake around your waist and tug your body closer. Chest to chest, heartbeat thumping in two, synchronized rhythms.

“What happens when I’m all old and expiring and my abs are gone?” He raises a brow. You hum, stroking a thumb along his cheek as you smile and admire him.

“We’ll still be pissing each other off, I bet.”

“That’s supposed to be good?” He repeats, this time much more unsure. Anyone else could hardly catch the air of hesitance in his words, but you catch it instantly.

“Why not?” You shrug, “it always worked for us, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “that’s until it doesn’t.” He spits the words out, not meeting your eyes. It’s like they taste acrid is mouth and he can’t bring himself swallow them down.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you lean in and just press a line of kisses from his chin to the corner of his lips, purposely dodging his mouth and littering small, delicate pecks along his cheek. And then his forehead. And then the bridge of his nose.

Never his lips, though. And he gets increasingly frustrated by it.

“What are you waiting for?” He grumbles, eyeing you with a look that screams: quit fucking around.

You fight back an amused smile. “Does it piss you off?”

“Course it does. Kiss me properly or back off my face—”

“Cause you love me right?” You ask cheekily. He pauses, thinking on it for a moment before slumping wearily.

“And if I do?”

“You piss me off too. Because I love you too,” you whisper, forehead against his as your hands cradle his cheeks. Because you do.

When he texts late, and makes your blood boil, it’s only because you love him. When he’s brutally honest and doesn’t say what you want to hear, you’re only mad because you care what he thinks so much. When he’s stubborn and refuses to meet you halfway, you’re only angry because there’s no one else you’d rather cross the bridge with than him.

He pisses you off. You care enough to be pissed because it’s him. And when you piss him off too, he cares enough to deal with it because it’s you.

It’s a funny, twisted little way to love and be loved, but it works. For some odd reason, it does. It’s a seamless, smooth, crackless road.

You don’t ever fix something that’s not broken.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he sighs, resigning himself to your weird, roundabout explanation. You laugh, pinching his cheek as you grin brightly.

“That’s because you’re a bit dim.”

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes, “okay. Anything else?”

“Yeah, actually. I love you.”

He pauses. Swallows for a moment before his arms tighten their grip on your hips just a smidge before burying his face into your neck and mumbling, “me too. Love you so much, it pisses me off.”

“I like to get under your skin like that,” you stroke his hair, beaming as you add, “guess you’ll just have to deal with it.”

His lips stretch into a small grin before a low, rumbling chuckle breathes itself against your skin. “Guess so.”

————————

a/n: insecure modern! au sukuna who doesn’t admit it and refuses to acknowledge that he’s aware he’s difficult to love and can’t understand why you love him but he also doesn’t want to question it for fear of scaring you away is very near and dear to me and i’ll be talking about it from my grave still. you’ll just hear my ghostly voice spooking you through the night talking about how he’s a softie deep down under all the layers. like an ogre okay? ogres have LAYERS.

[sugawhaaa]

SKZ HEADCANONS

The type of women they like in bed...

Warnings//genre:: SMUT, shower sex (Hyunjin), cowgirl (Changbin, Felix), BDSM (minho) Collar (Minho) creampie (Chan)

Pairing:: ot8!Skz x fem!reader

A/N:: so I started with ateez and now I'm done skz should I do...a txt version 🤨 or maybe piwon 🤭

Skz masterlist:: 🍒

Taglist:: @weallneednamjesus @strykdsstanot8

Emotional, a girl who will let him take care of her in many ways

Chan has many different sides to him in bed but no matter what, he loves to cherish his partner. He wants to be able to treat her like a princess or a slut or just his girlfriend.

"You're so pretty like this," Bangchan groans before leaning down to kiss your neck, his hips never losing their pace. You can't even reply because you're so focused on the sensation of his fat cock stretching you wide open. "How you feeling baby?" He tucks a strand of your hair back. You let out a choked moan as you try to form words.

"Good," You claw at his back as you struggle to speak. "Faster please," You whine and Chan smiles shyly.

"Already?" He asks in a teasing and genuine way.

"Yes please! Fuck, I can take it," You assure him and he grins before snapping his hips against yours. The room fills with a symphony of screams of pleasure and the clap skin on skin. As Bangchan pounds into you he leans back, holding your hips, to admire your body. The way you squirm and twitch, the way you pant and moan and reddened face, the way tears of raw desire build in your eyes, and it's all because of him.

Obedient, a woman that'll listen to him and enjoy it

Minho loves to be in control during sex but he doesn't want his partner thinking their opinions aren't valid. He needs his woman to understand that this is his way of showing love and that he just wants to love on her...hard.

"C'mon, look at me baby," Minho says as he lifts your chin up to look at him, however the vibrator pressed against your core drew your attention more. "You need to keep being good for me alright?" He tugs on your collar slightly to draw your attention. You nod with a little whine and Minho smirks, his power over you shining through.

"C-Can I cum yet?" You ask between heavy breaths, the band in your stomach tightening its knot.

"Soon baby, hold on as long as you can," He then leans into your ear, his breath ghosting over your ear. "The longer you last the greater your reward babygirl," Minho smiles before bringing a hand up to your breast, cupping it in the soft lingerie. "shh, you've been doing so good," He says before smirking. His opposite hand creeps down to your vibrator, ticking it up a few setting, the vibrations now more intense than ever. You squeal and arch your back, your head falling back as well. Minho chuckles darkly at your reaction. "So cute~"

Comfortable, a girl who will make him feel safe and relaxed

Changbin has rough appearance and exterior but everyone knows he's very vulnerable inside. He needs to find someone who will keep that vulnerability safe, especially when indulging in something like sex.

It was moments like these you really cherished with Changbin. Your bodies nearly bare and pressed up against each other, your tongues intertwined as your hands frantically search for a place to rest. Changbin holds the back of your head, his fingers sorting through your hair, as he hungrily kisses your lips.

"I need you," You pull back to announce and Changbin smiles shyly, looking down.

"Whatever you need," He kisses your cheek as his hands trail down to your ass, picking you up and lifting you higher up his lap. His mouth finds yours again as he messily helps you take off your panties but you're too impatient to let him take off his underwear, instead you grind against his boner. He moans quietly, his brows furrowed at the new sensation. "Wow that feels..." His hands fall to your sides, relaxingly resting on your hips. "Keep doing that baby and I might cum in my clothes," He chuckles as he tosses his head back.

Gentle, a woman that will put care into every touch

Hyunjin has a frail heart and he can be a little sensitive to such intense feelings such as lust. He needs someone to calm him and occasionally steer him during sex.

"Yes fuck, are you slipping baby?" Hyunjin grunts as he slows his hips, making sure the wet surface wasn't causing you any risks.

"No, I'm okay, keep going," You pant softly and rest your head against the shower wall again. Each one of his thrusts was deep and passionate, the pace was slow but the strength was there. You bounce against the wall with each pound and Hyunjin comes around to hug you, pulling you off the wall like a starfish.

"Is...Is this position okay?" He asks shyly as his wet hair clings to your shoulders, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"God yes," You moan and throw your head back. He begins to thrust into you again, hitting up deep in that one spot that makes you scream. Hyunjin focuses hard as he watches your body from over your shoulder. "Yes right there, keep going," You moan, subtly praises him. Hyunjin has to hide his smile as he fucks you faster, hoping to receive more praise later.

Passionate, a woman who will bask in his presence

Felix has a bit of a clingy side, but it's not as much physical as it is emotional. He needs that person release on especially when it's his love.

"Yeah, yeah, just like that baby," Felix encourages in his thick Aussie accent but a hint of something else lingers in his voice; perhaps lust, hunger or love? His hands stay fastened to your hips as you hop on his lap, his cock slipping in and out of your warmth. Felix rests his head in the crook of your neck as he pants heavily, his hot breath ghosting over your damply sweaty skin. He lets out a low growl before tossing his head back. "Oh yeah, harder baby, c'mon bounce on me," He smirks softly at the lewdness of his words.

"I can't," You breathe out softly and Felix sits up again, holding your hips with more strength.

"You can babygirl," He kisses your jaw before assisting in lifting your body up then back down on him. His cock hit imaginably deep very hard, making you moan loudly, eyes wide. "That's it, feels good doesn't it?"

Needy, a girl who will match his constant need for relief

Han is undoubtedly clingy and loves the feeling of hands and attention on him. Jisung needs a girl who won't mind his constant need and ache for her. This fact transfers into the bed as well, he gets aroused easily, especially with physical stimulation, and he needs a partner will understand and care for his needs.

"Baby..." Han whispers as you peacefully sleep. He gently shakes your shoulder and you startle awake, forcing your eyes open. "I'm sorry," Jisung instantly regrets waking you and hides his face in the plush white sheets.

"What's wrong?" You ask groggily as you prop yourself up with your elbows. As your eyes adjust to the lighting you notice Han looks quite distressed; his eyebrows are curled upward, his lips swollen and red, his eyes glossy and his face and hair damp from presumably sweat. "Is everything okay?" You sit up, alerted by his appearance.

"Yeah but I um..." He blushes and looks away, ashamed of his behavior. "I had a wet dream and I've been trying to get off but..." He bites his lip before looking at you. He lets the plump skin between his teeth go with a sigh. "I need your help," He whines and your heart melts at his puffy cheeks and doe eyes.

"Of course, what do you need?" You watch as he sits up beside you, the blanket falling to reveal his broad chest.

"Anything...your hands, your touch, your voice, just be here with me," He whines as he extends a shaking hand toward you. "I need you," He caresses your jaw before pulling you into a deep kiss.

Patient, a girl who can wait for and understand him

Seungmin feels a little conflicted about his sex life. There's times when he's really into it and other times he can't find the lust to indulge in. He needs a girl who will respect his boundaries and understand his conflicting emotions.

Seungmin lays back on the bed after a long day with hands tucked behind his head, a thoughtful look on his face. As you put away your laundry you notice his stern expression. "You look scary when you're thinking," You smile, your voice light hearted. "What's got you thinking so hard?" You ask sincerely, assuming he's stressing about work. You set aside your laundry and sit next to him. Seungmin tenses as you come closer.

"Not sure...I feel," He looks away, pausing for a moment. "I feel like I wanna have sex but I'm so tired. My body feels weak from working," He groans as he props his head back, his arms now limp at his sides.

"That's okay," You smile, trying to assure him that he's feeling normal.

"It's annoying," He grumbles with a little pout. He shifts his hips and a blush creeps up his neck. "Could you...help me?" Seungmin asks hesitantly before making eye contact.

"Of course, lay down," You push his chest down softly, encouraging him to relax. As you do so you notice the throbbing tent in his jeans; you tilt your head in curiosity. "Is this what's been bothering you?" You smirk softly and he looks away from you with a slight pout.

Daring, a girl who will take the lead and follow his lead

Jeongin has a switch in his sexuality. Sometimes he wants to be on top, be mean, be hard, be in control and other times he wants to be hurt, broken and rebuilt as someone else's. He needs a lady who will be able to do both: fold for him and fold him.

"What's it gonna be tonight?" Jeongin says as he kicks his feet up on the bed, his elbows propped up to hold his jaw. He watches as you walk around the bedroom, doing chores, while he patiently waits for you to finish and indulge in some lust. "Maybe you'll let me bend you over the bed or desk?" He says with a devilish smirk before rolling onto his back, his legs now crossed. "then let me fuck you into the wall of the shower for round two," He tilts his head as he watches you get flustered by his words, your focus fading as you brush your hair. "Or would you rather pull out the sex toys and use me until I cry?" Jeongin just kept egging you on until you reply.

"Bending over sounds nice," You smile with red cheeks as you sit beside him on the bed. He instantly pulls you closer by your hips, setting you in his lap. He nuzzles his face into the back of your neck, inhaling your scent.

"I was hoping you'd let me fuck you tonight," He flicks his tongue out to snake around your ear, making your body shiver with excitement.

[avatarchic]

TWENTY-SIX MONTHS

Before Todoroki Shoto came Pro Hero Shoto. You would be a fool to think he would pick the first before the other. You would be a fool to think that you, a citizen with no name, could ever stand by his side.

— starring. baby daddy!todoroki shoto x fem!reader

— tags. miscommunication trope, angst, pregnancy and giving birth, friends with benefits, vague relationships, running away, slight single parent!au

— warnings. ages are unmentioned, but shoto is in his late 20s/early 30s, smut, soft sex, cunnilingus, praise, p in v, use of petnames (baby, pretty girl), reader gets called a good girl once, shoto is highkey a munch

— word count. 8.2k

— requested? no

— notes. this one ruined me tbh LOL i have a nasty habit of slipping btw present and past tense so the tenses in this one might be all over the place :')))

Whatever you and Todoroki Shoto had together, you knew it wasn’t romantic.

You were his outlet. His source of relaxation when being a hero became too much to bear on his shoulders alone. You were fantastical. You were illusionary. With you, he was no longer Pro Hero Shoto, Number Three Hero. With you, he was just Shoto. And for your moments away from the world hidden beneath wrinkled sheets and closed curtains, that was enough for him. When morning came, and those curtains had to be drawn, he would become Pro Hero Shoto again, and you would wake up to an empty bed.

For you, he was everything.

For you, he was your hero before he became a Pro. He saved you from succumbing to the stress of standing out to survive as a support class student. He saved you from your insecurities and false ambitions, and he saved you from living a life you didn’t truly want. Todoroki Shoto was your best friend before he became the man shrouded in shadow — the man you hid away in secrecy to bed whenever he wanted.

He told you he would be gone for a while. A mission in upper Kyoto that took him away from your arms while you stayed safe in Tokyo. He assured you that he would be fine and return to you as soon as possible. If you were a fool, you might’ve taken those to heart and swooned under the pretense of love. But you knew better.

Before Todoroki Shoto came Pro Hero Shoto. You would be a fool to think he would pick the first before the other. You would be a fool to think that you, a citizen with no name, could ever stand by his side. In your eyes, Shoto put his work before himself. Admirable, strong, ever-the-reliable Pro Hero Shoto. The nights he spent with you as just Shoto made you wonder who else got to see his true self.

The second month of his absence came, and you were sick. An illness had overtaken you, leaving you bedridden for days on end. At first, it had just been nausea. You put it off as motion sickness — you often had to take the train to and from anywhere. Perhaps your stomach had simply met its limit and was taking it out on you with lashes of sickness and vomiting.

After a week of being washed away in your bile, you realized that you had yet to bleed that month. Rather, you realized you hadn’t had your monthly bleeding for a while. You weren’t stupid. You knew what it all meant, and you knew the consequences of your actions had finally caught up to you. You hid away from the world, only leaving to purchase tests from the store.

The answers mocked you. PREGNANT. TWO MONTHS+.

You considered getting rid of it. To keep it your dirty little secret. Shoto would never have to know — no one would ever have to know. But as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your hand resting atop your stomach, you felt at peace for once. As if you finally had a reason to keep going.

Five months had passed since he was gone, and you felt it now more than ever. You never explained to any of your friends or neighbours who was responsible for the swelling of your tummy, nor about the packages of furniture fit for a nursery that showed up on your doorstep. They never asked. No one knew your trysts with Shoto, and you planned to keep it that way.

For his sake.

You wished. You desperately wished that he could stay by your side, that he could support you through this time of anxiety and worry. You daydreamed of welcoming him home, your little bundle of joy wrapped in your arms as you kissed Shoto on the cheek — a reward for working hard as he always did. You thought about spending more than just nights of pleasure with the two-toned man, about wearing his ring and raising your beloved child together.

As a family.

Thirteen months had passed since you last saw Todoroki Shoto.

Thirteen long, gruelling, and lonely months were spent mourning his absence, even though he was still alive somewhere. It felt like the clouds that followed you for weeks parted only when your son was born. He looked like you. He had your nose and your eyes. He had the same rounded cheeks you still adorn, even well into adulthood. His voice was like bells on a clear sunny day, and when he lay in your arms, you declared that you would love him for all you were worth.

Even if the tuft of red and white on his head brought you immense heartache.

A selfish part of you wished that nothing of your son, whom you’ve named Yami, would resemble his father. That way, you could truly hide his origins — your past that you refused to uncover. But the bigger part of you was overjoyed. The moment you laid eyes on his hair, matted down with blood and amniotic fluid, you sobbed uncontrollably. The nurses and midwife recognized the two-toned hair immediately and watched you with pitiful eyes as you clutched Yami to your chest.

You moved away the second you were discharged from the hospital, baby carrier in tow. You wished your neighbours well and thanked them for being so kind to you in the years you lived among them. You were gone within that same week.

You lived peacefully in your new home, tucked away in the countryside of southern Japan. You opted to stay away from TVs and the internet, worried that seeing his face might make you regret the rash decision to pick up and leave. Yami was growing quickly, already large for a four-month-old. His hair grew out, more red than white. 

You didn’t know if Shoto had made it back from his mission. If he did, you weren’t sure how long he had been back or whether he had sustained any injuries. You didn’t know if he went to your apartment to search for his fantasy. You didn’t know if he thought of you at all.

You didn’t know if he was alive.

The longer you spent away from the man, the more your heart yearned for him. Whenever Yami would quiet down for his nap, you stared out the window at the acres of empty farmland. In the vastness of space, you could only think of him. The man who had taken your heart from the tender age of fifteen. The man who possessed your life in his hands, though your essence seemed invisible to those blue and grey eyes. 

The fool in you wondered if he ever had feelings for you — if he ever burned for you the way you did for him. 

You felt like a dessert. Scorched inside and empty. Golden sands represented him—burning to the touch and yet all-encompassing. Even without him by your side, he was always there. He surrounded you, dragging you in, and you let him.

Yami’s babbling would always break you out of your reverie, the pangs of guilt and sorrow gnawing away at your still-beating heart. The routine remained the same, day after day. After he woke up from his nap with an incoherent cry for his mother, you would settle him onto your lap and cry. You sobbed into his soft tufts of hair, apologizing for taking him away from his father, for hiding him away from the world just because you were a coward.

Yami was your darkness. He was your uncovered secret. 

Two years and two months had passed since you last saw Todoroki Shoto.

Yami was seventeen months old and starting to look more and more like his father. He took his first steps earlier than any parenting book had told you he would, and it wasn’t long after when he said his first word. It seemed the world was against you, and the universe was punishing you for keeping Yami away. You broke down for the first time in a while when that first word hit your ears.

“Da… Dada…”

You weren’t alone in your silent, unspoken wishes to be at Shoto’s side. Poor Yami, who had never met his father, spoke Shoto into existence with that one word.

“My baby,” you sobbed, hugging Yami tightly to you as he babbled, repeating those two syllables over and over. “My poor baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Mommy’s so sorry, my baby…” You rocked back and forth, crying endlessly. Yami’s hands grasped at your clothes, hair, and face. His little round features twisted into a grimacing cry as he watched tears pour from your tired eyes for a reason he didn’t yet understand.

The day he spoke his first word was when you showed him a picture of his father for the first time. Recognition flashed behind rounded eyes, recognition for a man he’d never met.

While you were grocery shopping — Yami balanced on your hip, a paper bag full of produce in the other arm — you heard Shoto’s name.

“Didn’t you hear? Pro Hero Shoto is here! In town!”

“Isn’t that weird? Why would such a hotshot be here, of all places? We aren’t even on most maps…”

“Who cares?! Do ya think I can get an autograph?”

You break out into a run without paying attention to the rest of the conversation. You hold Yami to your chest, supporting his head as you run with all your might. The paper bag of fruit and vegetables lay forgotten behind you, surely to be crushed by any passing vehicles. You run until you can’t run anymore, chest heaving in exhaustion. Using your object manipulation quirk, you open the front door to your house without taking your hands off Yami.

You whisper sweetings into his ear, telling him everything would be okay. Maybe you were telling yourself.

Not long after you returned home, the door rattled with a gentle knock. The very door you locked moments ago. You hold your breath, not wanting to see anyone. You didn’t want to see him.

Your name was spoken in that soft voice you missed so much. Before you could stop him, Yami started sobbing, his high-pitched cries alerting the person outside that you were there. You shush Yami desperately, rocking him back and forth in an attempt to calm him down. You kiss his forehead, silently begging him to stop crying.

Your name was called out again, this time panicked and louder. Yami’s cries increase in volume, and you feel your eyes water all the same.

The door hinges begin to frost over, and it’s knocked down in seconds. The loud noise scares your son, causing him to sob uncontrollably as he grasps painfully at your hair. You hide him behind you as you face the intruder head-on. Without blinking an eye, you use your quirk to lift the door off the ground, pushing it against the intruder, hoping to push him out completely.

The door is pushed away easily. After all, you are no match for Pro Hero Shoto.

He has gotten larger in the twenty-six months since you last saw him. His shoulders grew broader, his hero uniform barely hiding the dense but lean muscle that hid beneath it. His hair was longer, falling into his eyes as if he didn’t have time to take care of it. The man in front of you looks different from the man you knew, but it is undoubtedly him.

He breathes out your name, steam rolling off his left side and icicles glistening atop his skin on his right. He steps over the forgotten door, into your house, and into your safe haven, large and commanding of your attention. You try to make yourself bigger, to hide Yami from his eyes, and perhaps to hide your shame as you stare at the father of your child.

“I looked for you everywhere,” he gravels, his voice deep and crackling with emotion. “I came home, and you were gone. Do you have any idea how fucking scary that was?! No one knew where you were, and your apartment was empty. I didn’t know if you were safe, I didn’t know if you were alone…” Shoto steps closer to you, anger seeping into his expression. “For fuck’s sake, I didn’t know if you were alive!”

Your heart hammers in your chest as he grows closer, his fists clenching angrily by his side. His eyes search you desperately, searching for any sign of injury or abuse. They trace over your wrists and ankles, perhaps looking for signs that you were held here not on your own will, that you didn’t leave him just because you wanted to.

You pick your brain for the right words to say. You have thought about this day for years, and now that he’s in front of you, you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess of shame and joy, your heart struggling in a fight against itself. Analyzing him, your eyes rake over his body. There were a few more scars you don’t remember, some fine lines on his face that weren’t there before, but it was him.

As your brain wraps around the fact that Shoto was really there after over two years, Shoto collapses to his knees in front of you. He all but crawls over to you as he shoves his face into your thighs. Hot, stinging tears hit your skin as he cries into your lap, his hands reaching to hold you. Large, calloused fingers grasped at your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

“I was so scared,” he admits, his body shaking as he cries silently. “I thought… I thought a villain had taken you.”

Your hands hover behind you, keeping Yami hidden. His cries have thankfully subsided the second Shoto entered the room, but you weren’t sure for how long that would last. You can feel him grabbing at your shirt, trying to peek around you. Resisting the urge to wipe away Shoto’s tears, you grip onto your son tightly.

“How did you know I was here?” You lick your dry lips, wincing at how raspy your voice is. The first words spoken to this man in over two years are painted over with wariness and caution, very unlike the words of encouragement and longing you had given him your last night together. “No one knew I was here. Not even my family, so how did you…” You trail off, unsure if you want to know the answer to this question.

Shoto pulls away from your lap, looking up at you with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “I searched for you every day. I never stopped once I realized you were gone. I was in communication with every hero in this fucking country, hoping that one day one of them would spot you.” He hastily wipes his cheeks, his trembling hands remaining at your side.

“Why did you go?” he asks in a whisper. His voice, low and cracking, is broken as he speaks. “Why did you leave me? Did I do something? Was I…” Shoto swallows thickly as his insecurities taint his mind. “Was I not good to you? Did I make you leave?”

His endless questions send you for a loop. In front of you was not Pro Hero Shoto, but just Shoto. Your Shoto, the one you long for in your dreams. The one who paints your every happy memory and the one whose name you whisper into the dead of night.

And yet, as you feel Yami’s tiny hands grab your arm, you can’t answer any of his questions.

“Dada…!”

The both of you freeze, and the world stands still for a moment. Shoto’s trembling gaze slowly left yours, meeting the eyes of the toddler behind you. The first thing Shoto notices is his hair — bright red with streaks of white bleeding through. He feels his heart stop and start again, his hold on you finally slipping as his body goes somewhat limp. He falls back onto his heels, fully kneeling before you now.

Snapping out of it, you turn around and take Yami into your arms, facing away from Shoto as you shush the poor baby, calming him down quietly. Shoto can only watch as you handle him with a gentle care he isn’t privy to.

Without sparing another glance at Shoto, you start to walk away. He calls out your name hastily, and you can hear him clamber to his feet. Swallowing harshly, you look at him over your shoulder. Shoto looks out of place in your cozy living room, too large for the space. And yet, he appears small. His shoulders are hunched in as he reaches out to you with a face that begs you not to leave.

“He… needs to be put down for his nap,” you whisper, kissing Yami’s temple. “We… can talk after.”

Before you can regret your words, you head into his nursery, painted a soft yellow. You coo at your son, gently resting him in the large crib that took up most of the room’s space. You hum a lullaby to him as you stroke his hair, looking down at him with nothing but love.

Even long after he fell asleep, you don’t move. You stay there for a while, watching Yami so closely you don’t notice the presence at the door.

Shoto’s voice comes in a whisper. “He… He is mine, isn’t he?”

You can only nod, shame filling your soul as tears slip from your watery eyes. “His name is Yami,” you speak, your voice cracking.

Shoto flinches but waits patiently as he watches you come to a stand. He doesn’t rush you as you place Yami’s favourite stuffed animals by his side, leaning down and kissing his forehead before approaching Shoto.

“Let’s talk in my room,” you whisper, glancing at Yami before shutting the door behind you. 

The two of you enter your room, the stifling air suffocating you as you shuffle over to your bed. Shaky hands reach for your pillows as you keep your back to the Todoroki, fluffing them to keep yourself busy. Your throat feels grating as you swallow down harshly. The room feels both hot and freezing, which you assume is his doing.

He doesn’t say anything either as he stares at the back of your head. Your hair looks different from the last time he saw you, and the clothes over your body aren’t articles he can remember you own. He thinks back to that night when quiet goodbyes were whispered between sweaty sheets. He wonders what went wrong.

His eyes wander, his frightful gaze tearing away from you only to look around your room. There are remnants of you everywhere. Family pictures hang from the walls, and old posters he vaguely remembers from your apartment are pasted against grey paint. It was you, but different. It wasn’t as colourful as your old room, and your trinkets are either out of sight or gone altogether.

When his eyes rest on you once more, a million questions run through his mind. Why did you leave him without a word? Images of your child, the very one who bore a striking resemblance to himself, flash in the forefront of his mind.

“How have you been?” you croak out after too many beats of silence. Hugging a pillow to your chest, you turn ever so slightly, only glancing at him from the corner of your eye as if it were painful to even look at him. Perhaps it is. 

Shoto can only stare at you in disbelief, his brows curling upward as his heartache shines through. “How have I been?” he repeats breathily, his low voice raising half an octave. His mouth opens, but the words die on his tongue. Only after an excruciatingly long moment does he find the words again. “I’ve been miserable. You were gone.”

You wince at the strain in his voice, gripping the pillow even tighter. Your knuckles whiten under your tight hold. “I’m sorry,” you whisper pathetically, swallowing the lump in your throat painfully.

“Why?” he asks again, his voice cracking as he takes a tentative step toward you. “Why did you disappear?” Shoto reaches for you, stopping just short of grabbing you by the shoulders. He can’t tell if he wants to shake you until you see sense or hug you and never let go.

“I had to,” you urge, finally meeting his eyes. Your breath hitches, and you regret turning to him, but now you can’t look away. Those mismatched eyes that used to bore into yours with unreadable emotion as he draped his body over yours were tired, dull, and pained.

Shoto is the first to break eye contact, staring at your floorboards as he attempts to string together his thoughts. “Was it me?”

With furrowed brows, you shake your head no. “Shoto—”

“If I knew,” he rushes out, interrupting you. His gaze drops to your stomach, and he imagines what you might’ve looked like, swollen with his child.  “If I knew, I would’ve come back sooner. Fuck the mission, you needed me and I…” He cuts himself off, bringing his hands up to your shoulders. His grip is tight enough to force you to look at him straight on, yet gentle. You think you can feel them trembling over your clothes, but you aren’t sure if you’re imagining it or not. “I’m so sorry,” he almost cries. The pillow in your hands falls to the carpeted floor, but neither of you cares to pay attention to it.

“Shoto, no,” you whisper, cupping his cheeks as you press your lips together. You thumb away his unshed tears. “That’s not why I left.”

“Then why?” he breathes.

You purse your lips, biting at the inside of your cheek as you reflect on those lonely nights spent under cold blankets. “You’re a hero,” you speak slowly. “I never had a place in your life, Shoto, not really. I’m a nobody. If… If I stayed, I would have been holding you back. You deserved more than that.”

Shoto narrows his eyes at you. “I deserve you,” he blurts, his tongue stained with vexation at the mere implication of your words. You watch as his lower lip wobbles momentarily before he steels his expression. “It isn’t your place to decide whether or not you should be in my life. That’s something for me to decide, but you took that away from me.”

“Took what away, Shoto?” you exclaim, raising your voice for the first time that day. “The sex? The comradery? You could have easily found that in someone else.” It hurts to admit, but you know it’s true. During those days together, you were a mere placeholder for someone better than you. Someone who could relate to him more than a nobody civilian could ever hope to.

After all, Pro Hero Shoto could have anyone he wanted.

Any anger left in his body dissipates as his body tenses. His face scrunches into something painful, mouth ajar and eyes wide as his grip on your shoulders tightens slightly. “What?” he whispers, the word dripping from his tongue like ice water. “What are you talking about?” The room feels like it’s dropped a few degrees, and if the frost that clings to his skin is any indication, it might have.

Averting your gaze, you try to wedge yourself out of his tight hold, but he doesn’t let you, taking another step forward. You’re practically chest-to-chest as he shakes your shoulders gently. “What are you talking about?” he repeats with an urgent tongue. “Someone else? What are you talking about?”

You heave a sigh. “Don’t play dumb, Shoto. You’re… you. You could easily find someone to replace me.”

“Is that what you think?” he breathes harshly, steam rolling off his skin, melting the frost. “That you’re just some replaceable body in my bed? Do you really think that lowly of me?” His expression twists as he reaches up to cup your jaw. His touch is burning, and yet you find yourself leaning into his palm.

“Isn’t it the truth?” you murmur, your voice catching. “I’m not anyone special, Shoto.”

“You’re my girlfriend,” he spits out, angry at the notion that you were a nobody. “You’re special to me. Isn’t that all that matters? I couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re not a hero. That never mattered to me, so don’t give me that bullshit.”

Your eyes snap open as you stare at Shoto in shock. You feel your body freeze over, and suddenly, your lungs are empty. “... What did you call me?” you croak.

Shoto stares deeply into your eyes, his own darting back and forth as he tries to read you. “My girlfriend.” His voice wavers as he tries to understand why you look so confused.

“We weren’t dating,” you cry incredulously. “What are you talking about?” You watch Shoto as realization washes over his distraught expression and something within you cracks. “Shoto, what are you talking about?” you ask again with a frantic pull to your voice. Shoto’s hands slip from your shoulders.

“Weren’t we?” he whispers quietly, any strength sapping from his body as he limply stands before you.

With your heart beating faster than ever, your breath leaves chapped lips in uneven puffs of strangled air. “We never talked about being anything more than just…” You trail off, the past couple of years draping over your shoulders, weighing you down heavily.

“You thought I was with you for the sex?” Shoto doesn’t know how to feel or how to act. His face twists as several emotions run through him before his mind settles on heartache. His multicoloured eyes try to meet yours, but you’ve already looked away. He moves his body, craning his neck to take a good look at you. He wants to see you. He wants you to see him. He utters your name in a broken whisper. “It was never just sex for me, baby,” he declares, his voice cracking in sorrow. “You had to have known that.”

He moves closer, cradling your face as he gently forces you to look at him. When he sees the indecisive glaze that’s taken over your eyes, he feels his heart break just a little more. “Please tell me you knew. That you know it was more than that.”

You blink away tears, your chest rising and falling quickly as you meet his intensive gaze. “You’d only come to me at night,” you mutter, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and wanting to pull his hands off of you. “You never stayed. You were always gone in the morning, Shoto. What was I supposed to believe?”

Shoto fights back a wince as he mulls over your words. He sighs, absentmindedly rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I was so busy with hero work,” he murmurs in horror-filled realization, frowning at himself. He shakes his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “That’s not an excuse. I should have tried harder to be around. But it was never just sex for me.”

His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, his forehead coming down to rest against yours. His eyes flutter closed, wet eyelashes sticking together as he lets out a trembling breath. “Please believe me, baby,” he pleads quietly. “I’ll be better. I’ll show you I love you. I’ll make sure you know this time, so please…”

Those three words pull the air from your lungs, but when he opens his eyes, you’re left truly breathless. Love, sorrow, and regret swirl in his blue and grey hues. You don’t remember the last time you’ve looked at Shoto like this. “Please come back to me.”

“Shoto—”

“I’ll stop being a hero,” he interrupts you, a deep frown tugging at his lips. “If that’s what it takes.”

You make a face, your brows knitting together tightly. “Don’t be stupid, Shoto,” you hush. “Being a hero is your life. I’d never ask you to throw that away for me.”

“You’re my life,” he presses. One of Shoto’s hands moves to cup the back of your head, carding through your hair. “Our child will be my life. You matter more to me than anything else.”

Sighing, you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. “I’d be even more upset if you gave up,” you murmur. “I understand that being a hero leaves you with little free time. So—”

“No,” Shoto cries out. “Don’t make excuses for me. I should’ve tried harder. I should have realized things between us weren’t clear.” He pauses for a moment, his brow bone tensing as he bites at his lip. “Do you love me?”

With a softened gaze, you knock on his forehead with a weak fist. “You’ve always been it for me, Sho.”

Shoto smiles at the nickname, a slight tick of the corner of his mouth. If you hadn’t been so close and hadn’t known his expressions as well as you did, you might’ve missed it. He leans closer, his nose brushing against your cheek as he kisses your tear-stained skin sweetly. “I love you,” he hushes, tugging you closer. His fingertips trail up your spine until they’re entwined in your hair. “I love you.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the sensation as you curl into him. Your hands trail up his broad chest as you wrap your arms around his neck. Inhaling deeply, you stare at him in hesitation. “Is this real?” you murmur, your mind swirling with the vivid dreams you’ve procured over the years. “You’re really here, right? And you really…”

“I love you,” he says again. He says it one, two, three more times, whispering into the side of your neck and he nudges himself into the empty space. His lips, which are cold against your blistering heat, brush against your earlobe as he all but whimpers your name. “This is real. I’m here, baby.”

You can’t help but believe him, your eyes closing as he presses kiss after kiss on your skin, moving down your neck until he’s reached your collarbones. He nips at the spot, his tongue jutting out to soothe the darkening mark he’s left behind. “Sho,” you scold weakly, your nails scraping against his scalp gently as you brush his hair out of his face.

Shoto grins boyishly at you, his hands resting on your hips as he guides you backwards, stepping over the forgotten pillow you dropped. “Let me show you,” he breathes out, looking down at you with wide eyes until he has you sat on the edge of your unmade bed. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

Then, he pauses, a brief flash of bashfulness flickering behind his embering gaze. “Please?”

You’re reaching out for him before you can answer, tugging him down to your height. You don’t reply with words, pressing desperate lips against his as you pull him over you until he’s pinned over your trembling body. Strong forearms rest beside your head, his skillful tongue swiping along the seam of your mouth. You almost moan at his taste—a taste you never forgot.

Shoto slants himself against you, your bodies resembling a mess of limbs. He flips you over with ease, strong hands gripping your hips to seat you atop his shaking lap. The shivers that run down the expanse of his body don’t go unnoticed, and you peck his lips once, then twice, before pulling away. He’s staring up at you breathlessly, lust-blown eyes dark but widened as he takes in the sight of you.

“Are you okay?” you whisper, stroking along the edge of his scar. Shoto leans into your palm, his eyes briefly fluttering closed, relishing in your warmth that he was deprived of for so long.

“I’m okay,” he murmurs back, brushing his lips against your palm. “I’ve just missed you so much.”

Your heart aches at his soft-spoken admission, and you kiss him again to tell him I missed you, too. This kiss is sweeter than the last, softer in its closed-mouth motions. His hand reaches up to palm your jawline, his other remaining on your hip. He sighs into you, breaking the kiss to leave fleeting pecks over your cheeks. “My pretty girl,” he whispers into your skin.

His hand trails up and down your side, as he gently pushes you against his growing erection. You let out a whimper at just how hard he already is, the tent pushing against your clothed cunt teasingly. Grinding your hips down, you relish in the gasp Shoto lets out. Busying his hands with the hem of your loose tee, he pushes himself off of the bed to chase your lips.

Shoto kisses you with a fervour you damned yourself for running away from. He kisses you like he needs your taste on his tongue to live, like you’re a lifeline, and he’s teetering on the edge. Gentle teeth scrape against your bottom lip, just barely grazing your swollen skin. Pulling away to rid you of your top, Shoto bites his lips at the sight of your bare chest. He lays back, propping his head up on your pillows. Tracing a hand down his strong pecs, you tilt your head back at the sight of his complete enamour.

Red cheeks hollow as he takes in a shuddering breath, looking up at you with nothing but love and adoration. “You’re perfect,” he breathes out, his hands tracing your sides so slowly. His thumbs, calloused from years of hero work, barely graze the underside of your breasts before his hands trail back down to your thighs.

“Take these off f’me,” Shoto urges, tugging gently on the fabric of your shorts. Those dark eyes never leave your face, as though he’s committing it to memory. 

You don’t hesitate to obey his request, shifting off of his lap just enough to tug off the last of your clothing, fingers dipping beneath the band of your panties to take them off as well. Shivering, you sit back down on his lap, biting down on your bottom lip as you lean back. Shoto makes it clear how much he appreciates the view you’ve given him, his lustful gaze caressing your entire self. His eyes land on the apex of your thighs, and his bitten lips part in admiration.

A wide hand rests on your tummy, just below your belly button, as he gently pushes your hips back and forth. His other hand finds its way to your ass, gripping and rubbing the skin there in tandem with your movements. 

You let out shallow breaths at the feeling of his rough jeans against your bare clit. You’re sure you’re sopping wet already, soaking the front of his pants with your slick, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when he’s looking at you like he’d cry if you stopped grinding down on him.

His eyes stay glued to where your hips meet, and he whispers your name lovingly. “C’mere,” he rasps out as he sits up with haste, wrapping those big arms around your midsection and pulling you even closer to him. Shoto kisses the tops of your breasts, moving up and up until his lips meet yours again in a searing kiss. 

“Missed you s’much,” he gravels out against your lips, reaching up to cup your left tit. You whimper out when his thumb brushes against the hardened bud, his tongue following shortly after. His lips curl around your nipple as he kneads into you. Breaths leave your throat in shortened huffs as he bites down gently. 

Pushing you gently, you find yourself on your back again with Shoto hovering over you. He lets go of your nipple with a pop, lips shiny with saliva as he kisses down your stomach. Arching into his affections, all you can do is lay there and bask in his gentle touches and sweet kisses.

“Sho,” you whimper out when he mouths your skin lower and lower. Strong hands push your hips up until your dripping cunt is in front of his face, and your legs are dangling over his shoulders. Your back arches deeply, his fingers digging into your sides to keep your bottom half suspended in the air. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten—you can’t recall the last time you’ve felt this aroused. “Please…”

Shoto smiles at you softly, looking at you through his lashes as he brushes his lips against your clit, making you jolt. “Patience, baby,” he chuckled. “I haven’t tasted your sweet pussy in too long. Let me take my time with you, yeah?”

When he asks so nicely, how can you refuse?

He leaves open-mouthed kisses where your inner thigh meets your pelvis, kissing and licking just around where you need him most. Pathetic moans slip through your wobbling lips as you press them together, trying not to be too loud. Your body is goo in his hands, and he knows this well. He easily keeps your back arched up off the bed, his beefy arms not straining at all.

When his lips finally close on your weeping cunny, you cry out louder than intended. “Shh,” he whispers, sitting back just far enough to leave you whimpering for more. “Don’t wanna wake the baby, do you?” Those teasing eyes meet yours again, and his teasing expression softens ever so slightly at your already fucked out look. “Be good and quiet f’me, love.”

“Okay,” you stammer out, screwing your eyes shut when he kitten licks at your slit.

Shoto kisses your inner thigh with a grin. “Good girl.”

Without missing a beat, he attaches his lips to your pussy once more, his skilled tongue licking and prodding exactly where he knows it makes your legs shake in pleasure. He eats you out with such expertise as if it hasn’t been over two years. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had a map of your body memorized.

Long, thick fingers push at your entrance, just barely pushing in before pulling out. “More, please,” you beg under your breath, arching into his mouth. “Please, Sho. I can take it.”

Shoto hums as he sucks on your clit gently, drawing circles over the bundle of nerves immediately after. “I know you can, baby. This pussy was made just for me,” he sighs into you, the loud slurping noises coming from the point of contact making you curl in on yourself. “You were made just for me, baby.”

He finally pushes two fingers in, curling up just how you like it. He groans as his tongue moves with ardour, his eyes rolling back behind closed lids as he savours your taste. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “Missed this s’much.” 

Shoto’s fingers push in and out, in and out, your slick gushing around them as the filthy sound of your clenching cunt fills the room. His lips are glued to your clit, drunk on your wetness as he fingers you deeply. 

“I’m close,” you warn him, gripping the sheets tightly. Your body jerks, your thighs shaking and closing around his head as you feel the string in your tummy grow taught. “Sho—”

“I know,” he growls, kissing your clit again as he looks back up at you. He watches your face twist and scrunch in pure pleasure, moaning at the sight. Pushing a third finger in, his eyes slip closed at the feeling of you clenching tightly around him. “Come for me, baby. Need to feel you come.”

His voice drips with honey, coating your body in its warmth as your back bends. ��Fuck,” you cry, slapping a hand over your mouth as your thighs tremble hard. “I—”

Before you can say anything else, you’re cumming around his fingers harder than you ever have in the time away from him. Fat tears line your lashline as he fingers you through your orgasm, lazily licking figure eights around your clit as he continues to push his fingers into you gently. He doesn’t stop, making you come again and again until you’re weakly pushing his head away.

His tongue laps your pussy clean, the lower half of his face covered in your slick when he finally sits back. You watch with lidded eyes as he wraps his lips around his fingers, his tongue jutting out to lick them until they’re no longer soaked with your essence. Moaning, you reach up for him, grasping weakly at his clothed chest. “Need you,” you plea, pushing at his clothes in a sad attempt to take them off.

Shoto only chuckles, leaning over to kiss you. He tastes of mint and musk, the taste of your come on his tongue making your eyes cross. He holds you tight, pressing you against his chest, and his hands run up and down the length of your spine. His head tilts, his mouth ajar as he licks into your wet cavern. 

Leaning back, you kiss and lick at his face, cleaning him of your juices. He only sighs blissfully at your ministrations, stroking your hair out of your face as he presses his lips against your temple. “I love you,” he murmurs. “God, do I love you.”

You leave one more kiss along his jaw, settling back onto the mattress as you look up at him. His hair is messy, tousled from the many breathless kisses you’ve exchanged in the last hour. His rouge-tinted cheeks make him look younger than he is, yet you can see fine lines at the corners of his eyes and between his brows. 

“I love you, Sho,” you declare softly, tucking his long bangs behind his ears. He gazes at you with more affection than you think you’ve ever seen him express, and it takes everything in you not to combust on the spot. You trail one hand down his chest, dropping down to his tented pants. Palming his clothed hardness, you glance at him pleadingly, smiling at the moan he emits the second your hand grazes his hard-on. “I need you now, please.”

Shoto nods, kissing the crown of your head before leaning back. You watch with careful eyes as he undresses, his hands moving with less grace than he’s known for. As he fumbles off his shirt, you unbuckle his belt, throwing it haphazardly across the room. You barely register the thud it makes as you tug down his pants. His hard cock slaps against his abdomen, coated with precum. 

Fully nude, you sit back to admire Shoto in his entirety. There are many scars you don’t remember littered over his muscled body, and your fingers trace them gently. “I almost forgot how pretty you are,” you say, sitting up to kiss his collarbone.

“Pretty?” he repeats, laughing softly as he grips at your waist.

You hum. “Very pretty, Sho.” 

Unable to wait any longer, he manoeuvres you back onto the pillows, adjusting you as he places one beneath your hips. “Gotta have you now, baby,” he groans into you, reaching down to fuck into his fist. You watch with wide eyes as he rubs himself for a moment more, pushing your thighs up against your chest. 

Pushing his angry cockhead against your slit, he thrusts shallowly against your soaked pussy. A low moan rumbles out of his throat when his head catches on the hood of your clit. He uses a thumb to guide his length to your entrance, a whimper of your name tumbling from those bite-swollen lips once he finally pushes into you.

Your jaw drops as a wanton noise claws out of your throat. Shoto is sure to move slowly, only moving in an inch of his dick at a time before pulling out. You had forgotten how thick Shoto’s cock is, the stretch of your swollen pussy around his length burning through your body. “S-Sho…”

He groans at your voice, dropping his head to your shoulder as he fucks into you slowly. “I know, baby,” he lets out breathlessly. “I know. You’re doing so well f’me.” 

His hips finally press against you after some time, his dick pushing against your pulsing gummy walls. He stills, letting you get used to the intrusion as he kisses you again and again. Propping himself on his elbows, he shakily brushes your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead. “You okay, baby?”

Nodding fervently, you wrap your arms around his neck, pushing his chest flush against yours. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out weakly, barely above a whisper. “You can move—” correcting yourself, you look up at him with pleading eyes. “—please move.”

Without another word, he pulls out slowly, only to thrust back into your hole nice and deep. A loud groan leaves his lips as he settles into a quick tempo, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs as he starts to really fuck into you. 

Barely keeping your eyes open, you watch his expression twist with gratification, his brows tilting upwards as his lips part. With lidded eyes, he watches you, too. “You’re—fuck—so pretty,” he whimpers, pressing his forehead against yours as his thrusts become faster. “Missed you. Missed you s’much.”

Sitting up, he grabs at your waist as he fucks you zealously. His thumb flicks at your clit, rubbing tight circles that leave your legs shaking. His cockhead rubs at that spongey spot in your cunt with every thrust, making your eyes roll back. “Sho,” you cry out, the thought of keeping your voice down long gone in your pleasure. “Sho, Sho—!”

His mouth opens as he lets out a stunted shout riddled with lust and overstimulation. “You’re so fucking tight,” he grins down at you, his stomach flexing with each movement of his hips. “Fuck, baby. Can feel you clenching around me s’tight. Are you close?” His words come out harshly, exertion tugging them from his throat sluggishly.

His thumb never stops over your clit, moving in tandem with his hips as he slams into you. Unable to form coherent words, you can only cry out in vague confirmation, grabbing at his forearms. You can feel your slick dripping down the slope of your ass, soaking into your pillow and the sheets beneath you. 

Shoto’s smile falters as he feels his own orgasm near, his rhythm becoming desperate as his eyes screwed shut. His head drops, his mouth opening slightly as he chases his high. When your cunt grips tightly around him, he’s sure he’s going to lose it. Harsh breaths heave out of him, his flushed skin causing his hair to stick to his forehead. 

“Come for me again, baby,” he begs, barely able to pry his lids open to look down at you. “Please, come, please, please… Gotta feel you…!”

Whether it’s from his words, the whimpering tone that tugs at his voice, or the way his cock throbs inside you as he nears his own high, you feel your orgasm crash over you in waves. “Shoto,” you sob, your body jerking violently as you come hard. He lets out a high-pitched groan as he releases inside you, his thick seed filling you up in seconds. His hips tremble and twitch as he keeps shallowly thrusting, pushing both you and himself into overstimulation.

“I love you,” he mewls, pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. Without pulling out, he slumps over you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

Laughing quietly, you weakly push at his shoulder. “You’re heavy,” you complain, still breathless from the countless orgasms he’s pulled you through. “Get off, Sho.”

“No,” he murmurs into the nape of your neck, cuddling into you tightly. “Don’t wanna let go.”

You roll your eyes. “You can hug me without crushing my ribs.”

Huffing, he rolls off of you, taking you with him as he lands on his back. You both groan lowly at the movement, his dick twitching inside you once you settle onto his lap again. “You’re insatiable,” you comment, feeling him thrust weakly up into your wetness.

Shoto only grins up at you, showing off that rare smile you missed so dearly. “You can’t blame me,” he tells you, wrapping his arms around you. “I have so many years of love to show you.” He kisses your shoulder. “I meant it. Before, I mean. You are everything to me, and I know our baby will be too.”

Your eyes wet again, fresh tears bubbling at the corners before dribbling down your cheeks. “Shoto…”

Looking up at you, he stares with an indescribable look in his mismatched eyes. “I wanna be in your life. I want to be in his life, too, if you’ll let me.” Leaning up, he kisses you sweetly. “So, please, come back to me.”

You only manage to nod tearfully before the shrill cry of your baby echoes throughout the house. Shoto eases you off his messy cock, watching as his release dribbles out of you. He lets out a breath, kissing you sweetly before moving you off of him gently. No words are exchanged as Shoto throws his clothes back on, wrinkled and unkempt. He pauses to wipe you clean, using your shirt, after throwing you an apologetic glance.

A smile reaches your eyes as you watch Shoto bound out of the room to get your child.

©AVATARCHIC please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

[sheep-from-rad]

Idea! Neglected bar singer darling.

The joint they sing in is on the very outskirts of Gotham. The bars in the basement of a restaurant.

Its pretty clear darling is saving up money to slowly inch away from Gotham and from there neglectful and sometimes (often) cold family.

So they dress as a Him/femme/them fatale and saunter up to the stage and sing there lil heart out and get both the thrill of all the attention in a room being on them and the money in there tip jar to boot.

Imagine what happens when a clip of darling singing goes fucking viral. (I'd like to think it's would be "be your baby tonight" give it a listen if you want. I like norah jones' cover)

What I'm saying is there is no way any of the batfam would approve of darlings career choice.

I love this kind of asks!~ Requests are now open again but we warned, I'm a snail paced writer T__T This took a while because I have this habit where I write it down first on paper before typing it. Like I make a draft first and reread before typing it to see if I should add more or remove some. First fic about singer reader: here and part 2 here. 😅

**DC characters belong to DC and I don't give permission to feed my writings to AI. Thank you**

Masterlist(Batfam)

Masterlist (All of my other fics)

divider by: @k1ssyoursister

Okay okay, here me out. I know you said secret bar under a restaurant but my brain read the word ‘bar’ and ran away with it 😭. 

You know what this smells like? Scandal and maybe even a disaster waiting to happen too. You know what's a famous bar in Gotham? The Iceberg lounge that is run by Mr. Cobblepot (Penguin) and  is frequented by rogues  such as Riddler. 

Life in the Iceberg Lounge isn't that bad, maybe intimidating at first but it became a small comfort. Mr. Cobblepot lets you keep the tips, the lounge beauties (Raven, Lark, and Jay) are great companies, and workplace harassment? You don't really have to worry about that. If you ever get flirted on or harassed by small fries and drunkards and then rest assured a bigger, scarier person at the back of the crowd will beat the harasser and throw them out. They might be villains but they have standards and harassing the lounge’s songbird is a big no no! 

The clip of the singer reader went viral for a ton of different reasons: (1) The singing and the amount of simps you raked 24 hours after the clip has been posted. I have a headcanon that Mr. Cobblepot will nickname you as either Nightingale or Songbird to fit the crew because the lounge beauties are nicknamed after birds.(2) People can see villains just chilling at the background of the video. Riddler's nursing a whiskey at the counter, Two face is playing chess with Penguin who is multitasking in helping mix some drinks. Hell, even Harley and Ivy are in the background having a moment with the strippers.

(3) Why is Bruce Wayne’s kid at the Iceberg lounge? I have a teeny tiny headcanon that even though the reader was neglected they are still forced to attend galas once or twice because Bruce won't and then it will be like a big media scandal. Also reader's public appearances with Bruce or with the other Wayne children might be low but they still have hundreds of followers. The Wayne name alone is basically a celebrity name because of Bruce being heavily revered by the public. Think of it like nepobaby shit. (4) That stage presence and sheer seductiveness. Being a Wayne, I'm sure the reader was taught etiquette by Alfred and was taught how to dress properly. They are also taught how to behave. However on that vid, you look like you were dressed by the Gotham sirens (Ivy, Harley, and Selena) themselves. All those good boy, good girl, good child stuff are out of the window. If the reader was just blending in the background before and the video is the opposite. It's almost commanding every viewer to look at them, pay attention to them, worship the very ground they walk on, and love them! At this point just expect simps. 

The family loves the video but at the same time they also hate it. They had their copies downloaded and saved and then they'll immediately task Barbara into scrubbing the video off of the internet but it's too late. The video has been re-uploaded to hundreds of different accounts and some  news outlets had already published articles about it. The articles ranged from sweet ones like praising the reader for their awesome stage performance and singing to downright insane clickbaits like ‘Bruce Wayne secretly allied with Gotham rogues?’ 

The whole thing is very stressful and I pray to the DC gods that Bruce Wayne is very healthy because this guy's blood pressure might as well go high up. Imagine trying so hard to keep up with the ditzy playboy public persona to hide your vigilante secret identity only for your kid to be filmed singing and being cozy at the Iceberg lounge. Not only that! You also placed yourself in danger too! It's not a secret that a lot of rouges knew Batman's real identity (Joker knows it, he just doesn't care. He's so cool for that). Sure they don't attack Batman when he's Bruce and sure they are a sweet pseudo-family to you right now but who's to say that they won't use you when push comes to shove? 

While Bruce deals with the media, Barbara and Tim work on the damage control and tracking every video, expect heavy guilt tripping and interference from Damian, Dick, and even Alfred (in his defense, he wants you safe and will only ask for you to get a better job or at least work in a place not frequented by villains). Dick will be actively poisoning the well. He'll make you sit down and read the crime archives with him (starting from the heaviest crime down to the pettiest crime) and will tell you stories about their encounters with each of them. Damian will try to keep you from getting to work and will try to keep you in your room if you haven't moved out of the estate. He'll ask you to go around with him, feed his pets with him and even asked you to watch him train (he doesn't know how bonding works, please be understanding). If you had left the estate and then expect him to show up and walk in your place like he owns it. He's one of those cats that you feed once and then suddenly shows up and won't leave you alone anymore. 

Oh, you still won't come home? You still wanna continue that dangerous job of yours? Pick your poison then. Do you want them to call Jason to get to the bar and take you home, knowing him some heads will sure go flying. Or do you want the family to stage a stakeout, infiltrate the bar, and capture and lock up all the villains forever. Go on, go choose. 

[prentissluvr]

breathe, baby — sam winchester

cw : gn!afab!reader, smut, no plot, fluff, brief mention of canon typical violence & demons at the beginning, making out, clothed grinding, fingering, swearing, pet names (baby, honey), praise, sam calls reader pretty/beautiful, light dom/sub dynamics in the later half (softdom!sam), allusions to oral (r!receiving) 4.1K words.

summary : after a close call on a hunt and a confession, you and sam have sweet, desperate sex. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI WITH MY NSFW CONTENT. YOU WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED !!!

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

this is the second time that you find yourself gasping in sam’s arms in one night. just two hours ago, it was an unpleasant sensation; he held you close as you tried to catch your breath after nearly being choked into unconsciousness by a demon. the part where he held you close was not the unpleasant part. despite the fact that you were having difficulties breathing, you very much so savored the feeling of having him close.

but this… this isn’t just pleasant, it’s pleasure itself. you decide that there’s nothing finer than sam winchester kissing you. he kisses you so hard you can barely breathe, so hungrily that his nose scrunches up and his lips swallow yours and when you part, you’re gasping for breath.

“sam,” you pant out, his big nose still pressed against your cheek and the feeling of his tongue in your mouth lingering so strongly it’s almost buzzing.

“yeah? you okay?” he asks, his own voice just as breathless as yours. the large hand he has resting on the side of your face glides along your cheekbone, fingertips soothing against your skin and wide palm brushing past your ear. his touch dips, lightly ghosting over the bruises on your neck, but it doesn’t hurt, not with how soft he is.

“i’m good,” you assure him, still catching your breath, mind still reeling over the fact that you’re straddling his lap on a motel room bed and his big arm is wrapped around your waist. “really good. just… just wanted to tell you that i’m never gonna let you stop kissing me,” you murmur. his face is so close that you feel the movement of his lips stretching into a smile. he parts further from you, still cupping your cheek. he wants to look at you.

“yeah?” he asks again, voice pleased and tinged with this roughness that isn’t just lust. with sam, it’s always so much more. he’s smiling and his eyes are dark in the dim light of the room and you press a sweet kiss to his grin because you can’t resist it. he kisses back, only a little because he’s busy smiling.

“yeah,” you whisper, pulling away again so he can see that you’re smiling too. that gets him going. really everything about you gets him going, but to have you on his lap, your chest pushing him back into the headboard and your soft smile as you say sweet, almost sappy things? that’s more than enough to drive him crazy.

he wants to be gentle. so, very gentle, but he can’t help himself when both of his hands grab at the sides of your face and pull you back to him. it’s not like he’s rough by any stretch, but there’s a certain desperation thrumming through him, transerfing from his firmly placed palms and almost trembling fingertips to the warm skin of your cheeks. 

the force with which he kisses you pushes you backwards, and one hand flies from its spot on his waist to steady yourself on the mattress behind you. the small sound that escapes your throat is muffled by his greedy mouth, and he wants to hear more. all of your sighs and sweet sounds, thusfar quiet and somewhat controlled, have been driving him truly crazy.

almost regretfully, he allows one hand to slide down from your face to your waist, his hold there strong as he hoists you further up into his lap. he’s hard underneath you, and you moan at the feeling. your mind goes blank for a moment, long enough for him to attach his lips to the spot where your jaw curves up to your ear. you sigh aloud at that too, and sam is feeling very satisfied with your reactions; your lips staying parted and your eyes glazing over when you finally feel a semblance of just how big he is.

he gives your sensitive skin a little suck and your hands fist at the fabric of his white undershirt. he feels your knuckles against his side through the thin cotton, your grip pulling the fabric taut around his back. that’s all the encouragement he needs to keep going.

his tongue is just as greedy as his soft lips as it swipes over the skin of your neck, savoring your taste. the sweat and grime of the hunt had been washed off in the shower not too long ago, but your skin is just a little salty from getting all worked up in his lap. sam is utterly obsessed with that taste, his tongue flattening against your pulse point when you tip your head back to give him better access. the loud breath that you let out is halfway to a moan, and both of you are thinking about his tongue being somewhere else.

you push your hips into him at that thought and sam lets out a low groan at the pressure. now you’re feeling greedy. there’s no way you’ll survive without hearing more of him. you grind into him again and he grips your hips tight, letting out another gruff sound.

“shit, baby,” he groans, hot breath fanning against the skin of your neck. you huff at the sound of his voice, gone all husky and desperate. “what do you– what do you want here? you okay to keep going?” sam sounds like the only thing he’s doing right now is holding back.

“yes,” you gasp out, “god, yes.” you slip your hands all the way down his sides until you can grip the hem of his shirt. “can– can i?”

sam’s chest heaves at the sound of your voice, your sweet question, and the way that you look right into his eyes with such a caring, pleading gaze. he realizes that you’re being careful with him, just like he is with you, and he just has to kiss you for it. you kiss back without question, fingers still gripping his shirt. when he pulls away, he has to keep himself from ripping the shirt off himself, but he wants to see and feel you do it yourself.

“‘course you can,” he says, voice hushed. the small wait is more than worth it when your eyes turn excited and your hands fumble to pull the fabric up his sides. your knuckles brush against his bare skin and once you reach his chest, he lifts his arms and pulls it the rest of the way off. his hands are back on your hips in seconds, and you’re too busy raking your gaze over the exposed skin of his torso to see him swallow thickly as he takes in the way you look at him.

you completely forget that you planned to rip off your own shirt too, and instead lean forward to kiss his collarbone with a heavy fervor. his head tilts back a little as he sighs and you grab at his waist, thumbs eager and brushing against his warm skin. you kiss and lick and suck and sam moans for you. his fingers slip under your shirt and you welcome the sensation, kissing him harder in response.

you dip your head lower, hands beginning to roam, up his muscled arms, over his belly, somehow soft and toned all at once. your mind and body are at war. you want to keep kissing, getting lower, dragging your hands up and over his chest. but you want his hands to move, to feel you all over. then you suppose that you could certainly get both. you part from him for just a moment to pull your shirt off, your hands brushing against his as they hold your waist tight.

his jaw clenches and his eyes turn hungry as he watches you intently. you waste no time in taking off your bra too, watching his face as you do. his tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he sees your bare chest rising up and down and he holds back a pleased groan.

he raises his hand up and you think he’s going to touch you there, but he reaches for your face and brushes his knuckles over your cheek bone.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers. there’s a rasp to his voice, rough and sweet as he takes you in. your cheeks grow hot, but you bask in the praise anyway.

“and you’re fucking unreal, sam,” you say earnestly, voice equally as husky. he grunts and grabs at your sides, pulling you back into him and kissing your hard. his thumbs push a little into the plush of your breasts and his palms press into your ribs. you arch your back into him, pushing your chest against his and you feel his lip curl up against yours as a guttural sound forces its way out of his throat. a sigh of pleasure leaves your lips and you grind against him in earnest. his hips buck up into yours and the vague thought that he must be uncomfortable in those jeans floats through your mind.

he groans into your mouth and you just need him to touch you more. you pull away, chest heaving, hands roaming. on instinct, sam reaches further up, but at the last second he grips your shoulder instead.

“can i?” he chokes out. 

“yes,” you whine, nodding impatiently and sliding your hands up to his chest, asking for your own permission with your eyes. he catches the pause and look in your eyes and he feels all soft for you again. he leans in close, nuzzling his nose into your cheek and pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth.

his voice is still hoarse, but loving too. “you can touch me wherever you want, honey. promise.” you swallow a moan and reciprocate his sweetness with a kiss to his cheek.

“you too, sam,” you huff. “promise i’ll tell you if i need you to stop, but please… don’t stop.”

“okay,” he breathes, “okay, i won’t. i won’t, baby.” with that, he just paws at you, taking and grasping and groaning when you brush your thumbs over his nipples. “shit,” he gasps, his nose still digging into the soft skin of your cheek. he reciprocates, flicking over your hard nipples with his big thumbs, pinching a little and making you whine into his mouth.

it all feels so good, but all you can think about is the ache between your legs. his bulge under your clothed core has you wet, and you need more. you need his fingers.

you dip your head and his lips meet the crown of your head as you squeeze the flesh over his ribs and gasp for breath.

“oh, god. sam, please, i need… more, please,” you croak, dropping your head all the way down to his shoulder and pressing a messy, open mouthed kiss to the skin where his shoulder meets his neck.

“okay, okay. i can give you more,” he whispers fervently, grabbing your hips and lifting you up. you follow his lead, scrambling off of his lap. “go ‘head, lay down, honey,” he urges softly, eyes dark and hungry. you heed his instructions eagerly, settling into the pillows behind you as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, just to ease the pressure. they hang loose on his hips and his black boxers show off his bulge even better. 

you’re about to ask him to just take his jeans all the way off when he carefully grabs your legs from under your knees and drops them open, stunning you into silence. he settles between your legs and slips his hands under the waistband of your sweatpants. he starts to tug at them and he doesn’t have to ask for you to lift your hips for him to shimmy your pants down your ass and onto your thighs. you lift your knees to your chest so that he doesn’t have to move down to get them off.

“so good for me,” he murmurs once they’re fully off, his big hand running down your thigh while the other keeps your knees tucked up. you groan a little at his words, at the sensation, and squirm without thinking. “shhh,” he hushes gently, “‘s okay, ‘m gonna help you out, sweetheart. can i take these off?” he asks, big fingertips playing with the hem of your panties.

you nod your head quickly. “please, yes.” you don’t think you could have him quickly enough.

with your permission, sam doesn’t waste any time. there’s no need for you to lift your hips; he just pushes your knees further into your chest with one hand and slips the waistband down. his knuckles brush against the skin of your ass and you think about how big his whole hand would feel there. but you choose to focus on the look on his face when he pulls your panties all the way down and lets your legs fall open around him.

his pupils are blown out and lips curved up in awe as he runs his hands up your thighs. when you shudder at his touch he applies light pressure, pushing your legs into the bed and humming, all pleased with your reactions.

“please, sam,” you whine, voice breathy and begging as you try your hardest not to squirm so much. but having him over you, his eyes just staring at your bare cunt and big, big hands gripping your upper thighs after more than just months of pining for him… it’s not easy to stay still or quiet or be able to think, really.

sam is holding back from looping his hands under your thighs, pulling you to him and just shoving his face against your pussy. it’s wet and shiny for him and just begging for attention and he needs to taste you more than anything in the world. but he wants what you want and he wants to be soft and careful about it all, for you.

“how do you want it, baby?” he asks hoarsly. under your breath, you swear softly, unbelieving that you’re so lucky to have him.

“y-your fingers, sam, please,” you whine out, eyes glued to the way they look over your thighs, digging lightly into the flesh. they’re so long and thick and you can’t even imagine how much better than your own. sam can’t even be disappointed that you didn’t ask for his mouth; the way he can so clearly see how much you want his fingers, how much you’ve thought about them, gets him going perfectly well enough. and there’s nothing stopping him from eating you out right after he’s made you cum on his fingers. that sounds like heaven.

“okay, honey,” he whispers, rubbing his thumbs over the sensitive skin right where your thighs melt into your outer lips and your eyebrows knit together in desperation. he can’t help himself when he drifts just one hand over your heat, ghosting your skin and making you shiver and moan. his fingertips brush over your lower tummy and the heel of his palm picks up a little of your slick. “so pretty,” he murmurs. you toss your head to the side and into the pillow and breathe heavy.

“please, sam, please,” you gasp, trying not to buck your hips up into his hand, but twitching up anyway.

“alright, alright,” he exhales softly, pressing his hand all the way over you and reveling in the way your eyes squeeze shut and your hips cant up, trying to add more pressure. he lifts his other hand to your hip and presses you back into the mattress gently. just that makes you moan softly. really, sam just wants to keep looking, feeling, exploring. he wants to put both thumbs on the sides of your outer lips and pull them apart and look and feel you shiver against him and tease up and down your slit. 

but he really wants to make you feel good, so he shifts his hand and starts rubbing your clit with two fingers gently. you sigh out, long and loud and pleasured. your hips move up into him again as your hands fly up to grip the pillow by your head. sam groans at the sight.

he dips his fingers lower for a quick second, gathering some of your wetness and rubbing it into your clit. you cry out this time, one hand loosening its grip on the pillow in favor of fumbling for the hand that sam still has pressing your hips down. he obliges happily, holding your hand against your hip bone and goddamn smiling at you.

the pressure builds quickly and you moan and whine and squirm for him, all while he looks at you with awe and love and determination.

“you’ve been so polite for me,” he notes, pleased. “always saying please without me even asking you to.” his tone is hushed and a little gravely before he leans down to place a kiss to your lower stomach. you hum out a sweet moan. “and you sound so lovely, so pretty, honey,” he murmurs.

you grip his hand and the fabric of the pillow and push your face into your upper arm, whining out at his words.

“sa-sam, please, baby,” you groan, “m-more, i need more, i want your fingers in me, please!”

sam grunts at your words. “fuck, you’re so good. asking for exactly what you want, using your words for me, god. i’ll give it to you, ‘f course, i’ll give it to you.” he’s got to be fucking obsessed with you. he starts with one finger, gently prodding at your entrance before easing it in.

“shit…” you moan, stretching the word out and letting your voice break in pleasure. “s-so good,” you mumble, gripping his hand even tighter.

“yeah?” he whispers, pulling his finger out just a little before pushing it back through your folds.

“a-ah! yes,” you pant out. “f-fuck, sam, i–,” you cut yourself off with another moan when he sets a steady pace, just his one finger working wonders. but you’re growing just a little desperate, so worked up and so fucking in love with him that it’s driving you crazy. “m-more, please,” you whine.

“okay, i got you,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb as he gently pushes in another finger.

“gahh– god!” you gasp. “shit, sammy. so good, that’s so good.” you writhe under him as he pumps his long fingers into your begging cunt, making such a lewd, wet sound. “a-ah, fuck! right there, sam. oh my god, right there,” you babble, hips pushing into his hand. it’s not as if no one’s ever hit your sweet spot before, but fuck, it’s different when it’s sam. everything’s different, better, more intense, when it’s sam. 

“yeah? right there?” he presses a kiss to closest place he can reach, bending down and catching the skin of your thigh between his lips. he’s more than just pleased that he’s found your sweet spot so quickly, and as he continues pushing the soft pads of his fingertips right against your gummy walls, he soaks it up, memorizinng it all. 

the way your moans change, your voice jumping in pitch and getting louder, they way you buck up into his hand and the way that you clench around him. and your face, god he could look at it all day, maybe cum in his pants just from seeing you like this. all desperate and needy and blissed out; pupils blown, eyebrows knit together, and mouth hanging open half of the time to let your pretty sounds out. or he gets to watch you snap your jaw shut, bite and lick at your bottom lip, hold a groan back only for your lips to part again to pant and gasp and moan. it’s almost like you forget how to breathe through your nose, and it makes you sound all the more worked up.

as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge, he squeezes love into your hand, making you think about his palm against yours and somehow making it all more intense. his thumb rubs the back of your hand soothingly, such a stark contrast to the strength and fervor with which he fucks his fingers into you. 

“breathe, baby,” he reminds you sweetly. god, it’s hard to comply as you watch the muscles of his arm tensing as he pleases you, the veins of his hands and arms popping out with the rush of his blood. but you take in a long, deep breath and let it out. it shudders and ends in a whine, but your muscles relax for a moment and you melt a little into the mattress for just a moment.

“h-haahh, sam, i’m– mm, i’m close!” you whine, thighs tensing up again. you lift your knees and push your feet into the mattress on either side of his thighs, trying hard not to close your legs as the pleasure becomes so intense that you can’t keep still at all.

“fuck, that’s good. you gonna cum for me?” he asks, getting eager. he can’t wait to see you tip over the edge, to feel it. but he doesn’t get greedy, just in case this is the perfect pace for you. 

you answer his prayers in the form of a dirty moan. “huh-harder, please!”

sam is more than happy to oblige. he already knows that he loves to be soft with you. he loves to have his fingers stuffed up your pussy while he holds your hand and kisses your thigh sweetly. he loves to speak to you all gentle and loving and dirty too. but he does love the way you react when harder means just a little rougher, deeper, and faster. your jaw falls all the way open and you can’t close it. your eyes shut tight, then fly right back open because you don’t want to miss the sight of his fingers pumping into you like this. you don’t want to miss the way his face looks as he does it.

and it makes you loud. you’re used to keeping yourself quiet when you take care of yourself, but that’s not an option this time around. not with sam.

and of course, it makes you cum. it sends you reeling, keening, and it pulls his name from your mouth with a force that you’ve never felt before. and sam swears he’s gonna make you cry out his name like that every fucking day, if you’ll let him.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, ahh– sam! feels s’good,” you slur. “sam…”

you clench around him so hard that it’s not necessarily easy to fuck you through it, but he does so good anyway. you shudder and pant and whine, and his name said again, all breathy and slurred is just as good as the first shout. and finally, you fall against the bed with a huff of breath, the sheets beneath you wet and messy.

you tense and whine when he pulls his fingers from you, and he’s quick to hush you gently.

“oh, you did so good, baby,” he murmurs, settling his still slick-covered hand on your hip and it makes you shiver just a little. he shuffles a bit closer to you, dropping his head down to kiss your sweet lips. you can barely kiss back when you’re so breathless, but you try, so he settles for sucking a little on your bottom lip and letting you sigh against his hot skin. your hand drops down from where it gripped the pillow, settling hungrily on his broad shoulder and running up and down the skin.

“felt so good,” you mumble against his lips, still blissed out. his smile interrupts the lazy kiss, and he feels greedy again. insatiable, really.

“will you let me make you feel good again?” he whispers, making sure you know that you can say no if it’s too much. it’s clear to him that you need to catch your breath, so he certainly won’t start right away. not until you ask him to.

“god, you’re too good to be true,” you say, wondering at him. “but i wanna make you feel good, too.”

he smiles wider, then kisses you again with a little more passion than the last. “trust me, honey. this’ll make me feel real good. i wanna taste you, so fucking bad, baby.”

you can’t help the groan that escapes your throat at his words. “yeah?” you ask breathlessly.

“uh-huh,” he nods, nose tickling the skin of your cheek. “you gonna let me make you cum on my tongue, honey?”

“fucking yes,” you pant, “yes, please, sam… make me cum on your tongue.” 

it doesn’t take long to learn; if you let him start, he’s never gonna be able to stop. he’s completely obsessed and in love with you, and you can expect his mouth on your pussy until the day he dies.

[nebulaafterdark]

The Blacks & The Greens

Summary: A marriage of convenience is not enough to bridge the gap between their warring houses. Y/N and Aegon pay the price for his crown. Based off this request.

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

Roughish sex, Targcest, angst, depictions of stillbirth.

Y/N and Aegon marry out of convenience. To keep peace, to mend a house broken long before they were born.

Aegon does not mind bedding her, she is pretty enough. He does not mind watching her swell with his heir, he enjoys it even, paying special attention to Y/N as she grows.

“Does it hurt?” He wonders, tracing a little hand or foot across the skin of her abdomen.

“No,” Y/N smiles, passing a hand over his hair.

Aegon kisses her bump, bidding her and his child a good night before making his way down to the pleasure house.

Their first child, a son named Laenor, is Aegon’s pride and joy. His heart swells with something close to love for his wife, the first time he sees bits of her in their son’s features.

Y/N loves Laenor, carrying him about, showing him the Red Keep and all her favorite places in it. Aegon joins them, on occasion, sharing quiet moments with his little family.

Outside of Laenor, they exchange few words. Refusing to share apartments, but Aegon sneaks into her room more often than not, after nights spent in the company of other women.

“I could never fuck you like that.” He tells his wife, words slurred from his cups.

“I would let you.” Y/N assures him.

“You make my heart ache.” Aegon admits, “I hate when you do that.”

“I do not mean to,” Y/N sighs.

Aegon rests a hand over her beating heart. “I know.”

————————————————————————

When asked for another heir, they are more than happy to provide. Exchanging sloppy kisses and sweet words, but never love, it couldn’t be love. Not with the twisted, possessive way of it.

“Beg,” Aegon demands, fucking her roughly enough that air is punched from her lungs with each snap of his hips.

“Please,” Y/N wails, clinging to him desperately.

“Please what?”

“Fill me with your heir, I wish to bear you a hundred children.”

Aegon grins, brushing sweat damp hair from her forehead. “I adore you, you know?”

Her eyes shoot open, meeting his.

“My pretty, bastard wife.”

The princess’s breath hitches, her cunt clenching around him.

“Enjoyed that, did you?”

There is no point in denying it, she likes the way he says it. The way he acknowledges it without insulting her. “Yes.”

“I do not care who sired you. You are mine now, bastard. Mine to fuck and breed. Mine to love, until we are both cold in our graves.”

Love? “Aegon?”

“You heard me well and clear.”

“I love-”

Aegon seals his mouth over hers, swallowing the words. “Don’t you dare say it.”

“Why?” Y/N asks, with big fat tears welling up in her eyes.

“You hold it inside until you burst or pour it over my cock as you milk me, but you do not say it.” Aegon sneers. He couldn’t be loved, he wouldn’t be, by her least of all.

The princess nods, allowing him to cradle her head against his shoulder. Whispering those forbidden words over and over, while she is never allowed to speak them. Her heart aches.

Like every other aspect of their marriage, this too is complicated.

————————————————————————-

Y/N’s term is nearing its end when her grandsire passes and Aegon is forced to usurp her mother’s throne. With blood running down her legs before Aegon is crowned in the dragon pit, she is rushed swiftly away to labor in her chambers.

Now that Aegon is king, he is allowed at her side without contest. Watching as their second child is brought into the world. The babe does not cry, something inside him knows….

The grand Maester is called to work on the child, a sweet little girl with silver hair.

Y/N begins pushing with the second, her tear stained face pleading for him.

Aegon goes to her, because that is all he knows how to do. He goes to her and holds her hand.

“Aegon,” she cries.

“Shhhh,” he hushes her.

“Will the babe live?”

He presses a kiss to her forehead, “I need you to calm yourself, dearest.”

“I can’t.”

“We must focus on this babe,” Aegon brushes a hand over her belly. “They need their mother to provide them safe passage into the world.”

“I want to see her.” Y/N cries, searching for her child.

“I am so sorry, sweetheart.” Aegon says, “so terribly sorry.”

Y/N bares down, sobbing as she does. The child is safe within her, the same cannot be said after it enters this cruel world. “I do not want to lose my child.”

“I will give you another,” Aegon promises, knowing that a thousand children can never make up for the one they’ve lost. “As many as you wish. Please, allow me to get you through this. You must live, our son needs you, I need you.”

“You must keep pushing my queen.”

Y/N brings her third child into the world, expecting the worst. But the little girl cries.

“Thank the gods,” Aegon lets his head fall against his wife’s chest. “Thank the gods.”

The child is laid against her.

“Healthy?”

“Kicking like a goat, my Queen.”

Aegon looks to his wife, their perfect babe in her arms. “I love you.”

Y/N nods, choking on her grief and joy and love for him.

“Say it, my heart.” Aegon feels it on the tip of her tongue, “it’s alright.”

“I love you,” Y/N laments, “I love you and I’m sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for.”

“Our babe-”

“None of this is your fault. Please know that.”

Y/N nods, not entirely convinced.

The King and Queen spend days in that bed, mourning their loss, unaware of Rhaenyra’s similar suffering across the sea.

There is no war so hateful as a war between kin, they will all pay the price for it; the Blacks and the Greens.

[svnriseblvdd]

neighbour! clark kent x new girl! reader

SYNOPSIS: with your friend iris in town, the two of you head to a house party, where your short dress and a game of pool send clark's thoughts running wild again.

WARNINGS: reference to perv!clark/reference to general perversion, clark thinks extensively about reader's panties, most of it's innuendo and allusions i won't lie, chloe makes a slight reference to sex on/over a table, random football player starts leering and staring at reader's ass, indirect description of a boner, clark gets a peek of reader's panties, doggy but no sex? (you'll see - they're in the position, but clothes and underwear are still on), clark is still dying for some action.

i might come back and rewrite this part at some point in the future, because i had a couple more ideas i wanted to put in but couldn't figure out at the time, and the ending falls a little flat - i knew i wanted something extra, but i think it just lacks what i wanted.

part one! part two! part three! part four! part five!

Your friend Iris is across the room while music flows through the space, loud and deep, settling into your bones. She’s flirting with a guy from the football team. You’ve already assured her she will not be borrowing your bedroom if she decides to hook up with the guy, so she might as well go home with him or just find a room upstairs to use. This house belongs to one of the football players, they’re always throwing big parties. 

Since Iris headed off ten minutes ago, you’ve been hovering a little awkwardly near the couches, except now there’s two couples making out on one of them, and then the other is filled with a group of friends you’re pretty sure are stoned out of their minds. 

So now you’re just looking for anyone to talk to or at least linger by without looking weird and lonely. Someone you know. 

Your face lights up in a smile when you notice exactly the people you need. Chloe and Lana are across the room, Chloe clearly judging people and Lana nodding her head either to the music or to Chloe’s comments. Lana smiles when she sees you, waving you over to them. 

You cross the room, greeting them both with a grin and an excited, “Hi!” 

“Hey, you look amazing!” Lana compliments. 

“Thank you! You’re so gorgeous!” 

“Is your friend having a good time?” 

“I’d say so,” Chloe says, looking toward Iris, who’s mid-makeout with the aforementioned football player. Good for her. 

Speaking of makeouts with football players, you need to find Clark. 

Clark spies you from across the room on his way back to Chloe and Lana, drink in hand. As always, he thinks he might combust. Your dress hugs your figure, clinging like a second skin, and it’s so short that if he follows the lines of your legs from your feet up, it feels like they might never end. 

And as always, his mind wanders. He thinks about how easy it would be to pick you up, wrap your legs around his waist. How your dress is short enough that it would hike up all by itself, bunching around your hips and showing off your panties. His x-ray vision means that he could just take a peek, but he refuses. It’s bad enough that he thinks about it, but to actually invade your privacy, to perv on you like that? He couldn’t. Surely not. He’ll let himself resort to his fantasies. His fantasies picture all manner of things. 

Black, like the dress - lacy, very simple and nothing out of the ordinary really, but entirely sexy. A bold red, maybe - it leaves little to the imagination, it only really covers the bare minimum and leaves the rest so plain to see. But then he pictures something lighter, a pastel pink or blue perhaps. And that’s what sends his mind into a frenzy. Delicate, soft in its colour, cotton and lace, the prettiest he’d imagined yet. Just like one he’d seen on your bed that time he came over to help put your furniture together. 

He approaches the three of you nevertheless, pushing his thoughts into the back of his mind. 

“Clark!” You greet him with your bright smile. 

“Hey!” 

“I want to play pool, do you want to join?” 

“Uh, sure?” 

“Great! I’ll get it set up, you come over when you’re ready.” 

He watches you walk away, hips swaying gently as you approach the pool table. “She’s so into you,” Chloe mutters, laughing. 

“What?” He asks, eyebrows quirked. “No, she’s not.” 

“Clark, she’s just invited you to go watch her bend over a table. Trust me, she’s into you.” 

His cheeks flush red as he shakes his head. “No. No, she’s just- she says and does things without realising.” 

“Oh, she realises,” Lana says, laughing a little. “She wants you to notice her.” 

“I do notice her!” 

“Not in the way that she wants. Not that she can see, anyway. To everyone else, it’s plainly obvious that you’re head-over-heels for the girl,” Chloe says. “Now go. She’s waiting for you.” 

He joins you over at the pool table, where you’ve set it up. It’s only now that it’s just you and him that he realises you’re tipsy. He can see it in your eyes and the lazy smile on your face, and the way you stumble just a little into him, holding his biceps for support. 

“Ladies first,” he says, watching you smile wider and turn to the table. 

You walk to the other end as Clark lifts the triangle, and you bend at the waist, lining up your shot. You split the balls, and the game begins. 

Halfway through, on your turn again, you bend at the waist once again, this time a little closer to Clark. And this time, one of the football players, Nathan, stares at your ass as you begin to bend over. Before he can see any more, Clark steps in the way, blocking Nathan’s view and shooting him a glare. 

Nathan raises his hands in surrender. “Sorry, Kent. I didn’t know y’all were like that.” And he moves on. 

Clark rolls his eyes a little. 

Right towards the end, with you surprisingly in the lead - although Clark’s willing to bet that he’s at a disadvantage, given that most of his blood is travelling in the opposite direction away from his brain and somewhere it is not currently needed - you go to take another shot. You evaluate a few angles, then decide on one. Clark is leaning against a wall, watching you move around the table with careful thought. And then you find your ideal angle. 

The best place you can take this shot from and still have a chance at potting it is by standing right in front of Clark. 

So you stand there, and bend over again. Clark hadn’t seen it before, careful to move with you so that he never had to be standing at an angle where he’d see much, if anything, when you bent over. But this shot was far too difficult to predict where you’d go, nowhere was ideal. So he’d stuck where he was and begged whatever power there was that you didn’t need to stand in front of him. But the powers are betting against him. 

You bend over, so your torso is at a parallel angle to the table, and line up your shot. And Clark doesn’t mean to look, really. But just like in the car the other day when he’d glanced at your tits, your ass is right there. How was he supposed to know that your dress was so short he’d be able to see your panties? 

The best of his fantasies are fulfilled when he glimpses your baby blue underwear, just like he imagined it. Cotton, but he can see the beginnings of lace detail. It covers you well, until it reaches your ass, where the material begins to thin, and it becomes just a flimsy thing that rests between your ass cheeks. He’d imagined the thong before, not half an hour ago. But now he was seeing it. 

You stumble a little, out of nowhere seemingly, and he’s quick to grip your hips to stabilise you. And now his crotch is pretty much against your ass. Now it just looks like he’s about to take you from behind. 

“Uh-” He lets you go. “You okay?” 

“Mm-hm. I’m about to win. I couldn’t be better.” 

“Yeah, well, there’s still time, don’t get your hopes too high.” 

Except Clark knows it would take a miracle for him to win now. His head’s too clouded with lust, his brain is so deprived of blood it should be concerning, and he’s so hard it’s painful. He thinks he might just finish in his pants any minute. And if he didn’t know better, he’d think that you’re doing this to him intentionally. But you’re too tipsy and he’s seen the way you are normally, always saying and doing things by accident or without realising the double entendre. 

Or so he thinks. 

Thing is, you didn’t really come here with a plan to try to rile him up. You know it never usually seems to work - Clark’s awkward, and far too respectful to objectify you, even if you’re practically begging him to (or so you think). You love how respectful Clark is, really, and you’re glad he was raised right, but just once you want him to throw that out the window, be as depraved as he can be, lustful and carnal. He’s so easily-flustered and touch-starved, you know that he has to have locked up all those urges and desires somewhere. You really didn’t plan anything tonight, the tipsiness seems to have done some of it for you. 

When you win the match a little later, you cheer and jump in celebration, Clark smiling at you and keeping his eyes very much on yours. You hug him joyfully, and he wraps his strong arms around you. 

It was strange how a man so physically imposing could hold so much comfort. 

~~~ 

“So, how was your night?” Iris asks over a cup of coffee as the two of you sit in the Talon. 

You smile. “Pretty good. You?” 

“Very good.” 

Later on, when Clark arrives with Chloe, Pete, and Lana, Iris wiggles her eyebrows at you, and you roll your eyes before inviting them to join you. 

The others all take their seats, leaving Clark to sit next to you. 

He looks flushed, but you choose not to comment. 

taglist;

@artyandink

@blueeweeb

@ssnapsaurus

@i-got-a-bad-feeling-about-this

@milestellerismybf

@purple-1995

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@glennussy

@rainwaterxx

[szftzy]

yandere batfam concept!

okk so what if, batfam! but mc is a senior, around 18, about to graduate. they work a part time job paying off expenses, while cramming studies and what not. quite a productive life style right?

well, it most definitely gets tiring. thing is, mc knows two brothers around their age, and knowing them for quite a while. sure they were intimidating at first, but you grew to like them as good friends! the younger brother being feisty, while the older one witty.

now you forgot to bring up a fine detail, they were billionaires. more specifically— waynes.. now i know that was a crucial detail but bare with me here!

now, the mc is not a leech. they would enjoy treating themselves, but their dignity as a hard working person doesn't let them! that includes asking of anything from their filthy rich acquaintances.now, when the brothers had invited them over on their behalf, after a while of knowing them, it was pretty awesome.. like not to be dramatic.

now as they had kept sleeping over one or two times, they had meet the rest of the siblings. they had quite a big family, (5 brothers, 3 sisters, a butler and their dad.) of course having equal excitement for each member they had met, but definitely not amounting to the adore they had for their dad! I mean cmon, he built this empire by his bare hands! you'd like to know if you could get a tip or two on how to be successful, ya know.. for the near future.

now that you think about it, that makes you more excited to hang out with them. their family dynamic is so bizarre and so full of life, you do get a bit jealous at times— but never in any bad intentions, you are more than happy for them! plus if it gets you free delicious cookies from the butler, your more than down!

hanging out more around them makes you notice all their little ticks, everything that they like, anything that puts a frown on their face.. even though thats routine for some of them. ahem ahem.. now at a point it can get lonely, like your so invited in the family, but not at the same time..? its sorta difficult to explain, so just never-mind.

now it does get to a point where the mc, gets their own room! now you definitely had a guest room, but at some point your room starts to have life. its not a guest room anymore, little by little it fills up with your interests, your favorite colors, anything that you would like. although subtly gets noticeable over time. now it definitely had a bit of childish tones about it, which was weird considering you were about to be a legal adult.. but okay?

Now at this point, Its nearly graduation. now this would be a joyous event, if not for the fact you were planning on leaving for metropolis.(of all places?) as a kid, you always knew you didn't wanna stay in Gotham, it being the dangerous and gloomy city, although it had its pros, the cons were way more.

And you definitely had grown to adore your friends, they almost feel like family at times, but life has to go on. right?

when they heard about this, they were not elevated for sure.. for a while after that it was just awkward smiles and weird tensions, neither side being happy with what was gonna happen, but you had to.

before school got too busy, you decided to go out with them more! they insist on sleepovers instead of going outside, which you don't really understand why since it wont make a difference. maybe its because they were billionaires or something.. Man rich people are weird.

Anyways, when it came time for exams, you had nearly stopped going out at all. concerning them immensely, but it had taken you a while to assure them you were studying. much to their dismay. (weird, that was something they always detested? their not setting a very good example.) now when you finished up exams, and your graduation ceremony occurred, of course they had to be there!

and after that, they would start bombarding you with text messages, each text had a personality where without even looking at who sent it you could tell who it was from, each text begging you for something. it was always something about— come over! stay! dont go! say goodbye! yada yada yada..—

now it gets annoying at a certain point. but you had decided to pay them one last visit, having packed your stuff and everything done early, you decided it couldn't hurt— oh really now?

your last dinner with them, was interesting! at first the tension was as thick as a wall. for the most part it being small chit chat. but over time, you guys had regained your flow of conversations, everyone chatting and laughing actually having a good time. now their dad doesn't join in alot, but when he does, he also does have fun! which is a bit odd, but its adorable.

when he kindly offered you chamomile tea, you politely refused, but since he insisted, you decided to take him up on his offer. now this wasnt anything weird since the waynes were very generous, but now for some odd reason everyone was staring.. which you tried to pay no mind to.

but as you continue drinking the tea you felt more and more woozy, knowing to just stop and put the tea down..

suddenly a rough hand from behind firmly grabs the cup and gently peers it up to your lips, in total shock you had tried to push the hands away, but it was to no use. you could only watch as you kept drinking the obviously drugged cup, feeling the other hand rubbing against the small of your back soothingly..

you were only a little bit conscious here and there.. enough to feel someone easily carrying you, leading you somewhere, and tad bits of conversations that slipped your mind before you could comprehend.

now waking up in this room, the room you had a bad feeling about.. surrounded by comfortable pillows, big cute plushies, and soft large sheets. to your surprise you were also changed in the most comfortable silk pajamas. it almost coerced you to fall back asleep but you knew better!

you immediately jumped up and ran up to the door, quite obviously secured with locks from the outside.

you tried pushing the doorknob but to no avail, now due to your panic you just froze. immediately lying down on the floor from shock, tears bubbling up.

you buried your face into your knees, and just started sobbing your heart out— why now?! why now of all times to ruin your life? just when it started to get good for you..

you then hear the sound of keys being forced open, and then the door gets kicked down. did someone come to save you? at the doorway, their was the brothers! both with worried looks on their faces, the two ran up to you and immediately locked you in their warm yet suffocating embrace

they immediately start apologizing, for not being there when you woke up.. wait what? they're not here to help?

then it all connected, you were an idiot.. yesterday.. this room. it was obviously their doing. you attempted to sprint off the minute they loosened their grip, bad move.. they were gonna let you explore the manor. but now they knew you need a few months to get adjusted.

now they had tried to not overwhelm you too much, their precious baby, only a few batfamily members being there at a time. sometimes all of them would be there, but at that point you would be napping. unaware to the eyes adoringly watching you drool on whoever had the fortune to carry you that day.

they're so affectionate towards their sibling/kid to a point where its infantilizing. like they will just hold you down for hours, whispering sweet nothings as you lay down in the comfiest bed you can imagine of.

of course sometimes you can still leave your room here and there! ljust not the manor itself. (like you cant leave, ever.) and yes you can still do all your favorite hobbies, darling.. but I'm a little afraid its too grown up for you.. how about we lay down for a nap, okay?

not to mention— you used to have a job, before they confined you. you used to have studies, responsibilities and issues— all that? no more, we'll take care of all that.

don't start questioning them why you suddenly feel lightheaded and tired right after waking up from another nap. its definitely not the tea they just coerced you to drink! again! you probably just thought a little too hard for your fragile brain.. its okay, just rest your head in their lap and let all your worries go away. <3

and you couldnt even fight back! you were not blessed with the best height or physique, and not to mention even the members who didn't fight as much, still had years of technique and experience! yeah.

and now all of a sudden anytime a conversation gets even the slightest bit mature, they'll cover your ears and act like your not there, or have another member of the family escort you to your room for a nap. you don't need to know any of that, sunshine. and if you try to insert your own take on the topic? they'll just laugh, no baby.. your too precious to actually understand these big conversations. maybe when your older?

on the topic of your room again— it is the cutest, most comfortable room someone could think of! filled with your favorite colors, big pillows and plushies.. way too childish for your tastes.. but at first when you had slept over you didn't mind. the room had no windows, you didn't think much at first. not until they had started adding more locks to your door? and apparently your room is soundproof?

no wonder any guests they have over cant hear your pleas of help, thats even if you were allowed to be awake when they came over! please forgive them.. they're just so overprotective, and feel so jealous if someone comes near.

oh and if someone questions whats the door with alot of locks, positioned right next to your dads, was for? well they'd either just change the topic as quick as they could, or give them a filthy look that would make them reconsider ever asking that question.. poor guy.

It evolved from just staying over at your rich friends house, to being under lock and key, as their little baby for them to cherish and adore.

soo this was jus a lil drabble, but lemme know if you guys want a part 2 or something longer!

[mit0bee]

ace probably just lets himself into your home. it doesn't matter if you're there or not. even when you lock every door and window, you'll still arrive after a long day to him lounging on your couch with some chips in hand. he didn't even try to hide his shame most times, rather opting to give you a half-assed excuse and a sheepish smirk.

"hey, prefect! long time no see!" It had only been a few hours since you were at school. "You know, these are really good." He held up a blue plastic bag, a boyish grin on his face.

"ace, it hasn't been that long." you sat next to him, feeling your muscles relax from the tiring day. you had been running around campus constantly, helping staff (crowley) and students alike. as much as you loved it, it was a pain. you let out a pained sigh, rolling your shoulder.

"are you good?" he asked, a rare amount of concern lacing his tone. you knew he'd never admit it, though.

"i'm fine, just a little sore."

dropping the chip bag unceremoniously on the coffee table, he glared into your eyes. it was almost as if he could sense the lies seeping from your skin.

"look that way." he pointed away from himself. "with your entire body."

you were confused, but did as you were told. you obediently turned your back to him, slouching slightly from the aforementioned exhaustion. you were rewarded for your efforts, though, by a pair of gentle hands coming to rest on the sensitive part of your shoulder. you almost winced, if you didn't quickly realize what he was doing.

his hands rubbed firm, yet soft circles into your skin. he was pretty good at it, too.

minutes went by in a comfortable silence before he finally removed his hands from you, who felt much better.

"where'd you learn to do that?" you asked, rotating your head to look into his ruby eyes.

"its magic." he assured, "don't worry about it."

"well, maybe your magic isn't so bad."

"was it bad in the first place?!"

"ehhh......." you tilted your hand from side to side, a fake grimace on your features. there was a pause, and then you both burst out in laughter.

maybe his spontaneous visits weren't all that bad. you could deal with it.

extra: "wait, you didn't touch me with chip dust on your hands, right?" "oh. um." "ace." "you know, i think deuce might need some help back at the dorm." he stood up suddenly, pointing to the door, "so, ya know. bye." and with that, he turned tail and ran towards your door. "ACE!"

-------

i love doing drabbles

m.list @mit0bee 's work. do not copy, repost, or otherwise steal.

[astrow0rldx]

Mystery pick a card (Some 18+)

Since I did a tarot reading poll for my next tarot reading. lets get the rest of the stuff out of my drafts and reach whoever whenever divine pleases. all different type of questions. some 18+, some not. choose what pile you feel intuitively drawn too.

if you fount it on 10/20-21 24 feel free to vote on the poll for the next reading: https://www.tumblr.com/astrow0rldx/764872633973145600/a-tarot-reading-poll-%E0%AD%A8-%E0%AD%A7?source=share

One

18+ who wants to fuck you?

people probably know them. they are very confident, bold, brave. self assured. they are very wishful, they have a lot of ideas. they could be hopeful, and faithful for big dreams. they could be a person who's naturally inspired, or just carries themself that way. looking for purpose. not really immature energy though, like they seem actually goal-oriented and grounded and serene. this person could make money and actually be well known. they might have a busy life or a lot of eyes on them, like they wake up with a purpose, ideas & confidence in their world,shining. leo, sun, solar plexus energy. but also goal-oriented, focused, practical, money getter. receives nice things. the way they may flirt may be cold-hearted, clever, non chalant. if charming then not too vulnerable. could even be a little shy, have anxiety. or maybe traps in their own head when talking, arguing, etc. so maybe quiet. i don't see them as this optimistic person all the time, they could be very down. maybe a lot of loss hopes. maybe focusing on the bad. could be a person to be like awnn im so sad, so they get inspired to find purpose. they find purpose in themself, and their character and life. you could know them for getting through things. like this person could be strong, a wounded healer. signs: leo, cancer, thick hair, ginger hair, nature, fairy/mermaid, coquette, nighttime, rich, spiritual, moon, been in jail, popular, famous, pretty/handsome. good sleep schedule. mourning and sad but strong and hopeful. get through it energy.

Two

18+ their sexual fantasy with you?

makeup sex, remove tension, confusion and conflict with sex. even tease you a bit. if you guys were both going through a lot because of the connection, or your personal lives, they want to move in and just protect you. stand strong and live a happy ever after and forget about the bullshit. they definitely have fantasies about you fucking while living together and different places around the house, marriage and children may be involved. this type of sex they want to give you they want it to be deep, or performative something to make their mark, own you and make you realize about them or you two. they fantasize about moments when they have to hesitate and they don't know, like should i make a move or should i not. should we go right now, or should we not. and its just so much adrenaline and passion between you guys. they fantasize about you being their ideal woman. you even dressing up in dresses for them, putting yourself together. and then they get to see you take it off, take it off for you and take control. they fantasize about this being connective sex though, so not them only doing the work by the way, don't be afraid to add force, strength or bratty. they want to get.. THERE. rough girlfriend sex. if not girlfriend, bestfriend with benefits, fuck buddy type of thing.

Three

hyping you up and calling you out?

numerology number 222 - You thrive in partnerships, value emotional connection, and have a strong intuition. traits like : Harmony, cooperation, empathy, and diplomacy. You may struggle to assert yourself, compromise too much, or fear conflict. traits like : Indecisiveness, over-dependence, and passivity.

Signs: Strong Libra, Leo, Scorpio, Fire Signs. Favorite - Nicki Minaj

Social butterfly, Creative/Inner child energy. ADHD? maybe Balanced, makes clear decisions. Popular girl energy tbh, if your not, express yourself! popularity doesn't matter anyways your bright regardless this is about you, not others. Heavy re-invent yourself type of person, no matter if its what you been through, your look/aesthetic-ness. Who you are, what you do, you are transformative.

You are a warrior, Your strong. You been through a lot but it made you stronger & only balanced you out. Courageous! It's like you have the power to conquer anything because you rise from it, with grace & confidence. No one should be able to take control of your way when you decide to take control. Game of Thrones energy, like you could look at yourself as some type of character, angel or you know what I mean, it adds to your ego & personality about the stuff you went through. Like this is my goddess, I have faced hardship and became a strong, balanced, warrior with angel wings because of that. You are balanced, wise, & fair. You can make clear, rational decisions. Resilience - the capacity to withstand or to recover quickly from difficulties. You can re-invent your self, and shine in your character. You are radiant, your full of life, and you bring light to everyone around you. Your positivity & energy is magnetic. Success, joy, and happiness is the aura and energy around you, embrace it and feel it.

Your like this clear, smart, rational person who shines bright and has this positive inner child energy about them. You have a lot of energy, and adaptability. Always on the go, always on the move, facing things, experiencing and going through stuff, or just being that way as your personality. Like Momentum is on your side, you move with speed & purpose. Push forward!!!

Four

how to get to your desired reality?

signs - National Olympics Games, Spelling bees, Swimming, NBA/NFL, Competitive things. Competitive work place/friend group/family. song: Candy Man, Planez by Jeremih. book: 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene.

you may want to get away with something. wish you can take something. have a little secret. be a thief, manipulator, sneaky, rebel. something hidden that you want to get away with. this could involve a relationship or another thing you can desire in your life is a relationship. maybe a dynamic of earth sign fem/water sign masc. energetically, a woman who’s stable, has all her material desires, thriving in the physical & reality. with a emotional, caring, loving, mature man. with the 8 of cups outside of that and 7 of swords before you might have sneaky things going on in the relationship that you might want to leave behind. or you might want to leave a relationship for another person. or leave with this person. this could be another desire in your life to just maybe leave something behind, and move on from something.

you probably miss your innerchild. you miss someone you were in the past. a era in your life before. you want enjoy life, take the innocence and playfulness, the creativity & kindness of it all. you probably wish you had more integrity, more real, more logical. you probably wish you were more of a warrior, stronger, control things when it’s unfair. wish you had justice. you wish you were smart, straightforward, and had clarity, can understand things faster and see things through. better communication skills. work hard, you wish you can have consistency and persistence. good work. learn faster. wish you were good in school and your matters pertaining to your education, work, legal matters and children.

YOU GOT TO HAVE FUN THIS WORLD IS YOURS. GET SOME CONFIDENCE AND BRAVERY. take down your haters. make it through any competitive shit and stand on your throne. you control your reality, you manipulate the situation. you gain the control and the power. that means you decide when stuff is done, you leave stuff behind that doesn’t serve your best. and be in peace. SAVE and NOURISH and RESPECT & VALUE your peace. PLEASEEEEEEEEEEE put your respect and values to the right things and PEOPLE. your peace can help you understand your wishes and your values and your hopes. and help the tooth fairy to come and help you get it and gain control over the situation. meditate. and WIN 🥇

all you have to do is realize something and have the right discernment and judgement. crumble what doesn’t serve you even if it’s chaotic. bond with the right people and go to/make genuine connections. and that can help you unblock something in you to get here.

Five

How to get to your desired reality?

(same question for pile four)

signs - “Just Do it” Nike. Gigi Hadid, Victoria Secret Modeling, Makeup, Pink. Sexy (Red and Black). Red Room. Leather, Black Boots. Blonde Ponytail. Tumblr Feminine Culture. Female Gaze. Fake Friends. Popular Girl Clique. McDonalds. 4 for $4. Song: Pretty Hurts by Beyoncé. Sippy Cup by Melanie Martinez.

okay you ready to see your work that you put in, the time and investment finally make you satisfied. you probably been holding on to some burdens but your ready for a new life a new beginning something fresh. your ready for the heavy book bag to be off your shoulders life to stop kicking your ass and you can innocently walk into something new. you put in the work and your just waiting till the plants grow and you are thriving and the voids are filled. the happiness and everything you want is there. maybe something that you been wanting to start that you been investing in, caring about is something you see as a fulfillment.

you wish you were more abundant, you wish you were more lucky, you wish you were more physically wealthy. you can receive your wants more easily. you wish you were more of a person that receives good karma and fate. you wish you were emotionally stable and mature and looked at the world differently. and were a better and stronger person to achieve and accomplish.

Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there and celebrate. emotionally go forward and connect with people. But be guarded and self assured. start being kind of selfish and more connected back with self. holding on to things valuing things. be more energetic fast and about that action. start moving and starting. start DOING.

you might have body insecurities. you might have insecurities about your luck and fate. insecurities about time. insecurities about your learning abilities, your studies, your goals and ambitions. insecurities about your emotional well-being, your depression, looking on the down side. insecurites about your procrastination, persistentence, and future. your material stability. your plan and progress your path.

[neeeooon]

Good morning, Elle. I'm here with my third request. May I request: Blue Lock men as first time fathers. Who will be in the delivery room with the wife and who will be outside the delivery room, pacing and wearing the floor down? (Characters: Chigiri, Yukimiya, Reo and Nagi)

okay yesss i know nothing about babies but i hope you enjoy!! ty for the request 🫶

when they’re first time fathers ;

husband bllk x fem!reader cw: pet names, (not descriptive but) birth !

chigiri hyoma

-> oh he ran to be in that delivery room with you after getting the call that you’re in labor

-> “i’m here! hi, how are you doing, darl—“ “I LIED. EPIDURAL NOW PLEASE.” “—😃”

-> chigiri stays pretty hands off with you since he trusts that you know what your body needs and doesn’t need, but he still glowers at anyone who gets close to you

-> when it’s finally time to push, chigiri rushes forward when you reach for him and carefully dabs at the sweat coating your brow. “you’re doing great, darling.”

-> when you didn’t immediately hear crying, you panic. “hyoma? is she okay? g-go be with her—!” and you never thought you’d be so relieved to hear something cry until your daughter finally did

-> “she’s good, y/n, she’s perfect,” he assures as the doctors hand her to him. chigiri makes a slow beeline to you, though, so you can see and have her all to yourself. “she’s okay,” you cry, and chigiri kisses your head. “you’re okay.”

yukimiya kenyu

-> he is panicking

-> yukimiya was pulled away for an important soccer meeting when you suddenly went into premature labor, and by the time he got there, the doctors wouldn’t let him in the delivery room

-> you didn’t even know he was in the hospital until you caught a glimpse of him when someone came through the door, and when he locks eyes on you, he immediately shoves his way through and falls to your side. “i’m so sorry i’m late, baby, they wouldn’t let me… i’m here now.”

-> you didn’t care. as long as he was with you, you didn’t care how long it took

-> yukimiya doesn’t leave your side until your daughters are born, and he only steps back so that the doctors can place them on your chest together

-> “they’re so tiny!” you coo at the sight of your little daughters as yukimiya sniffles at your side. “yeah… tiny and ours.”

mikage reo

-> good luck to anyone who tries to tell reo he isn’t allowed in the delivery room

-> “reo, please don’t go—“ “they’d have to sedate me, y/n. i promise you i’m not going anywhere.”

-> reo would be up pacing the room, gnawing on his fingernails, if he wasn’t glued to your side. his hands cup yours and pull them so that they rest against his lips

-> he definitely gets in that bed with you when it’s time to push. as you sitting up with your back to his chest, holding you tight between his arms as you sag against him

-> and you have a son. he’s placed in your arms with reo staring from over your shoulder. you immediately start crying when he blinks his purple eyes up at the two of you

-> “this doesn’t feel real. i feel like i’m dreaming.” “it’s very real. look at little rj~” “we are not naming him reo junior.” “rj~”

nagi seishiro

-> you made him wait outside after cursing him for having such a big head

-> later on you felt bad and asked (yelled at) the nurse to bring him back in to hold your hand as his giant baby wrecked its way through you

-> “talk to me,” you pant as nagi stared wordlessly at the hand he’s pretty sure you broke. “uh—“ “NEVER MIND, SHUT UP MY BEAUTIFUL HUSBAND.”

-> to your surprise, you feel nagi shaking as your son is born, and when you look up you can see pure panic in his eyes. “w-what if i drop him..?”

-> the nurses hand the baby to him, and nagi just stares down at the bundle in his arms. he (your son) stopped screaming the second nagi held him

-> “i like this feeling,” nagi says quietly as he approached you with your son. “i won’t mess it up, y/n.” “i know you won’t, sei.”

pt 2

[slasherbvnnie]

Bewitched

Mattheo Riddle has a secret girlfriend, it's even secret to her

Bewitched Pt II

Reader isn't in a particular house, implies they're not in Slytherin. Reader and all characters mentioned are 18+ and in college! Hogwarts. Probably will be a spicy part 2 ;)

Modern!Harry Potter AU, College!Mattheo Riddle, College!Hogwarts AU

Questions first began to arise before one of Slytherin’s quidditch matches last month, particularly when Mattheo was changing into his uniform and Draco noticed the scratches down his back. The boys teased him over it, questioning him on who was the lucky girl who made them. Mattheo just smiled on and let them try to decipher who it was from his giggles at each attempt they gave.

On the other end, questions circled around you when your friends first began to notice the hickeys that littered your neck, blushed cheeks and meek responses when your friends pressed on knowing who mauled their friend.

It’s not that you were purposely hiding who they were from, you just didn’t want to say who it was from until both of you knew what you were to each other. Mattheo had been there during a party hosted by Gryffindor, things moved pretty quickly that night when you set your eyes on him. He was pleasantly surprised the new transfer student had her gaze set on him, so much so that he didn’t reject her whispers about going back to his secluded prefect dorm. There were some more nights after the first, some more innocent than others, but there was never one important question asked from either side.

You didn’t know if the Mattheo Riddle was open to a relationship, Mattheo Riddle had simply thought you two were already together in his own world. He just simply didn’t kiss and tell.

While you sat in the stands waiting for the quidditch match to start, you were brought to attention when Cormac McLaggen sat next to you. “Excited for the game?” You questioned him as he chuckled, “if its not my own, not much,” he joked as you smiled. “Why aren’t you with the others? I’m sure the rest of your team are betting against Zacharias,” you hummed.

He grinned, “my bets are always against whoever Malfoy is against, doesn’t play fair,” he said before continuing on. “I wanted to spend some time with you for the game, if that’s okay,” he said as your eyes widened in surprise.

“Me?”

“That’s not a problem, is it?” He asked as you shook your head no. “Of course not, I just, well I noticed you talking with Hannah Abbot recently and I assumed…” your voiced trailed off as you looked away for a moment.

“She…ah, we’ve been comparing notes recently. She wants to get in good standing with Slughorn, she says the club seems like fun,” he admitted as you nodded.

“So there's-“

“Nothing between us two, I assure you,” he said with a smile.

Before you turned back to look at Cormac, you noticed the familiar head of curls staring directly at you two. Even from all the way out in the field, you could feel the death glare Mattheo was giving to Cormac. It surprised you, as Mattheo had never shown interest in any others talking to you before, but he now seemed distracted as they were beginning to set up for the match.

You hadn’t waited to talk after the match was over, Cormac walked you back to your dorm after, saying goodbye to you after telling him how you needed to study for your potions exam. He promised to send a letter later that night, to plan an outing in Hogsmeade on the weekend but when the hours passed and no letter was slipped under your door you grew curious.

It wasn’t until one of your roommates came in, going over to your desk. “Be glad we aren’t in slytherin, lost a hundred points earlier,” she said as you looked up from your notebook. “How come?” You asked as you set down your pen.

“Riddle sent McLaggen to Madam Pomfrey,” she said as you stared at her, quickly getting up from your seat.

“Did you hear why?” You asked her as you grabbed your cardigan, put it on quickly, and went to put on your shoes.

“No, but I did hear he spent the afternoon with you. Is Mattheo the one who gave you all those hickeys?” She asked as you rolled your eyes.

“I am not the reason they fought,” you said as you went to the door. “Where’s Riddle now?” You questioned as she took a seat on her bed. “Back in the Slytherin common room, I heard Dumbledore is questioning taking him off the team,” she said as you huffed, opening the door and heading to the dungeons.

When you made it past the password ridden door, you looked around before you saw Pansy taking care of Mattheo’s knuckles as she was scolding him. “Pomfrey said I was ok, Pans,” he grumbled. You made your way over to the couch he was sat on, his eyes on you when he noticed you were near.

“Why are you here?” He asked, “we have an exam tomorrow, you’re always busy the night before,” he said as Pansy looked between you two, dropping Mattheo’s hand as you looked him over.

“I heard what you did, I wanted to know why McLaggen is nearly in a coma from you,” you said, knowing you were exaggerating it a little. Mattheo only laughed as he stood from the couch, heading to his dorm. “It should be obvious as to why,” he said, anger laced in his words. “Obvious?” You questioned as you followed him.

“Yes, I thought it was very clear why. Why else would I risk being kicked off the team?” He stated as he walked faster.

“You are at risk with every fight you’re in. This isn’t even your first fight this month!” You reasoned as he let out a bitter chuckle. “Why did you fight with him, Mattheo? You won today’s game! So why are you so angry?” you questioned him as he stopped and turned to you.

His eyes were watery despite the angered look on his face, “I am angry because my girlfriend is entertaining other guys wanting to go on dates with her when she doesn’t even go with me,” he said as he stared down at you.

“Girlfriend?” You asked, a bit taken back and hurt by his words. You weren’t aware he had a girlfriend. “You never told me you had a girlfriend,” you said, backing away from him.

He blinked, eyebrows burrowed in confusion as he looked down at you. “you’re- you’re the girlfriend. You know that…right?”

You gave him a bewildered look, “me?” you questioned, just as confused as him.

“Yes. I wouldn’t- merlin, I wouldn’t cheat.” He groaned, bringing a hand up to his face, pinching the space between his eyebrows.

“You’ve never asked me to be your girlfriend,” you said, trying to remember if there was a time that he forgot about.

“You have been the only girl I’ve seen for the past month,” he explained. “I thought, I thought when you kept coming back that it meant you were mine.” He said as you shook your head.

“I just thought it was a mutual understanding,”

“An understanding?”

“You know, like, friends with benefits. You never said otherwise. We’ve never been on dates! Even Cormac at least wanted to go on a date,” you said, Mattheo’s face twitching at the mention of another.

“I was going to take you for our anniversary,”

“What anniversary Mattheo? We are not dating!” You explained as he frowned, turning away from you now.

“We aren’t dating,” he said, nodding as he continued to his dorm. “You can have your date at the infirmary with McLaggen then,” he huffed out.

“Mattheo! Mattheo!” You called out, following behind him. You reached for his arm before he quickly shook your hand off.

“Mattheo, I don’t understand,”

The dark haired boy turned around, getting close to your face now. “You seek me out just for fun, come to my dorm nearly every night that you aren’t studying and you think I did not develop feelings for you? On the nights we don’t spend in my dorm, I spend all night in the astronomy tower, in the common room, at the Black Lake, anywhere you want to go for the night. I’ve shared with you about my father and his expectations and you’ve told me about your life and interests and how school was before your transfer and you just think I see you as some girl I only use for sex?” He asked, looking deep into your eyes, his own angered and burning with tears.

“You think I would risk losing my spot on the team over some girl I don’t care about?”

A lump formed in your throat, tears filling your eyes as you stared into his. “Mattheo..” you croaked out, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You haven’t known me for long but I never thought you would take me for someone like that,” He said as he scoffed, almost turned around before you reached for his arm, looking up to him.

“I never, I just thought… I- I don’t know what I thought,” you said slowly.

His face softened, looking away from you for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Mattheo. I just figured, maybe you didn’t want a girlfriend, or that… I don’t know. I truly thought you just wanted to be friends with benefits,” you admitted to him as he nodded.

“I never asked because I was afraid you’d reject me,” he said softly, looking down. “You’re smart and sweet, I thought once you knew about my family, my father…you’d run away,”

“You are not your father,” you said as you looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have said no,” you hummed, catching his attention.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t have a potions partner if I did,” you teased as he chuckled.

“You really needed to study tonight,” he mumbled before he moved your hand from his hand, lacing his fingers between yours. “I’m sorry for making assumptions,”

“I’m sorry for never asking how you felt,” you said in return, making him shake his head.

“Well….since we’re already here…I do know a way we can make it up to each other,” he said with a smirk, you rolled your eyes.

“You just told me I needed to study,” you said as he grinned, “you do, you still can. I can quiz you,” he said as he leaned in closer.

“You also need to study,” you reminded him as he chuckled. “You’ve been hanging with Granger too much,” he teased as he walked with you, opening the door to his room. “We can study tonight, but tomorrow if you pass, I know a special reward I can give you,” he said as he kissed your neck.

“A reward for me? Sounds like it’s a reward for you,” you mused as he gently bit your neck.

“Are you saying I don’t treat you well? I’ll have to remind you,” he hummed against your skin, making you shiver.

“Down boy, time to study,” you said as you walked over to his desk. He smirked, looking at you before grabbing his books and placing them in front of you. “Go ahead, study,” he hummed sinking onto his knees in front of you. “I’ll be enjoying myself, perks of the top potions student,” he grinned.