#clutching onto the last bits of my sanity

[quhrtz]

orange haired yoongi be the reason why, if ever, i ascend to heaven alive 🧡🖤💥

Suga ♪ ↳ Permission to Dance on Stage [11/27/2021]

(cr. 0613data)

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“H-hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you hungry?”

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

“Hello? Are you-“

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

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

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

“My love…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[tired-teacher-blog]

denki kaminari finds out his s/o thinks his voice is attractive/it turns them on? please, and thank you so much

Melodious temptation

Characters : Kaminari Denki/ Fem reader

Warnings and Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Sexual Intercourse/ Fluff/ One shot

Notes : Thank you for the lovely request cutie though I'm truly sorry it took me too long to deliver, but I still hope you enjoy my input.

Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist

_ "Hello gorgeous." a shiver runs up your spine at the sound of his voice mouthing the words straight into your ear.

It's a habit of his to whisper sweetly, and seductively, just so he could sense the breath hitching in your throat everytime he does.

_ "Oh, h.. hi." and there you are, failing to maintain your composure yet again.

His hands move up your shirt, and his chin rests on your shoulder as you finish up rinsing the last plate, "I'm done folding the laundry honey, so can we go to bed now?"

_ "Wha.. yeah, yeah sure." it's almost comical to be frank, that you're barely able to hold on to your sanity whenever he's being this way, does he even realize the extent of his behavior on you? The heat pooling in the pit of your belly or the electrifying throbbing in your deepest depth? Does it ever cross his mind that in moments like these, all you could think about is being trapped beneath his large body while he pounds you into oblivion?

Probably not, luckily..

_ "Denki.." you start cautiously as he plops down on the bed with you, pausing for a bit until hearing the cheerful "huh?" moving past his lips before you decide to carry on, "how was work today?"

He shifts a little to face you and blinks a few times but says nothing, the confusion plastered across his face is understandable though, as he has already answered that same question of yours over dinner just a few hours ago.

_ "Is everything okay sweetheart? Were you not paying attention to me earlier? That's brutal you know." and he finally regains that familiar bright smile you adore.

_ "Of course I was!" you sit up at once, strained shoulders shaking slightly and hands fisting the bedsheet beneath you, "let's just go to sleep okay?" you feign nonchalance and kiss his lips softly before turning on your side and squeezing your eyes shut in a futile attempt to escape the interrogation you know is coming, but for a while it doesn't, coaxing a sigh of relief to leave your chest as you finally start to relax.

_ "Wanna tell me what's going on?"

You were wrong, he will not let it slide easily because he is now pressed up against your back, arms wrapped around your waist and lips ghosting over the reddening shell of your ear, and it's the last thing you need right now.

_ "N.. nothing, nothing's going on, so let's just sleep." and the strangled moan lacing your words does not go unnoticed as he chuckles amusedly in response before sinking his teeth into your soft flesh to bring out an even louder whimper from you.

_ "Oh, I see," it's like a switch has been turned in his brain, and his previously careful hands suddenly became a bit more persistent as they lowered to clutch onto the delicate skin of your thighs, "that's okay love, you don't have to be shy about it."

Your eyes widen and your jaw clenches when he forces your legs apart with one swift flick of his wrist, you wish to scold him for it but your voice refuses to give, and who knows? Maybe it is for the best, because you're sure to humiliate yourself otherwise.

He thinks he's smart, that he understands the state you're in right now but he truly doesn't.. and you just want to laugh at how funny, endearing, and truly embarrassing this makes him look.

_ "So tell me princess, should I carry on?" his teasing words are nothing less than a blissful torture for your ears, you crave hearing more of his nonsense but also wish he would shut up.

_ "Just.. don't stop." you express eagerly and brace yourself for his next move, the throbbing in your core intensifies as he pushes your panties to the side and runs his thumb slowly along your glistening clit.

_ "Oh look at that, you're already wet for me, I wonder why, I only just touched you," he growls smugly and nuzzles your nape before saying, "you love me too much that just having me near is enough to wreck you."

_ "It's not.. what you think." it's really not, his dumb brain is painting a picture that couldn't be further from the truth.

Although you do love him– more than he knows, more than anyone else in the world, what you're experiencing right now is due to something else that you've tried your hardest to hide, but maybe it's time to give in and admit it.

_ "Then tell me what it is." his demand is laced with a smirk that you could perfectly imagine, the words vibrate throughout your body and settle right where his fingers are teasing you relentlessly.

_ "Just.. stop talking and do something!" you're at your limit already, and the stiffness nudging your bum is evidence that he is as well.

_ "You got it sweetheart, fuck.." he struggles to keep his cool while clumsily working on freeing his raging cock.

Ragged breath and impatient grunts are hitting your ear and pushing you closer towards orgasm, and suddenly, nothing is any longer enough to quench your thirst for the man chanting your name over and over again while brushing his leaky tip over your folds, before carefully pushing into your welcoming heat with a satisfied growl.

Finally..

_ "Baby you're so warm.. you feel really good around me." his whines are just above a whisper but you hear them loud and clear.

He sings your praises while setting an unforgiving pace from the get go, but you truly don't mind, if anything, you're yearning for more and are no longer reluctant to ask.

_ "Keep going.. please Denki don't stop! Deeper please.. talk to me, tell me you love me.." you burst out in pleas and reach a shaky arm over your head, threading your fingers through his golden hair and pulling his face even closer to yours.

_ "I love you, of course I love you, fuck.. you're the only one for me.. you make me, ugh damnit.. you make me lose my mind."

You've always loved the sound of his voice, when he's upset or when he's excited, when he's confused or when he's pleased, and especially during his most vulnerable moments, moments like this one, when he'll truthfully tell you anything you wish to know.

_ "I'm so close!" you cry out a warning and arch off his chest as his thrusts turn erratic.

_ "Together sweetheart, let's cum together." he moves a hand down to join the cock drilling into you mercilessly, fingers rubbing on your sensitive clit and delighted moans invading your senses and coaxing shockwaves of pleasure to wash over your shuddering body like a hurricane.

_ "That's it, that's my girl, ugh fuck!" he reluctantly pulls out of you, fisting his pulsating cock until finally bursting all over your thighs.

Silence fills the air for a while, nothing is heard but heavy breaths and stifled whimpers as you both come down from your high, and all you wish for at the moment is to close your eyes and drift off, however..

_ "I kept wondering what turned you on all of a sudden, until you asked me to keep talking to you," he gently turns you around to face him, flushed cheeks and tired smile brightening his handsome face as he playfully slurred the words, "that's interesting." and the teasing continues.

_ "N.. no you're wrong! I was just caught up in the moment." you're fully awake now as you strived to defend yourself, hitting his chest weakly before hiding your face there in shame.

_ "Okay okay I'm sorry," hearty chuckles ripple through him while he held you close, luring a soft giggle past your lips as you finally started to relax, "alright princess I'll tell you what, let's take a little break and then test this theory again shall we?" and he whispers the proposal provocatively, greedy hands already exploring your body, and pulsing cock awakening to rub against your thigh.

You knew from the start, that revealing your secret would be a bad idea and you were right, because the sparkle in his eyes as he's eagerly groping your flesh and sensuously whispering promises of what awaits you, proves it.

[teeth-farie]

Astarion bends and writhes under your caress, head thrown back against your shoulder as you make work between his legs. He’s practically delirious, drunk off the sensation you provide. He’s by no means inexperienced, he’s bed more than you could count on your fingers and toes, and yet the elf is boneless against you, taking every slide of your hand with a shaking breath.

You tease the head of his cock with your fingers, sliding your index back and forth across the drooling slit. Astarion jerks like he’s grabbed a live wire, clutching onto your thighs like a lifeline. How could you have evoked such a reaction in him? Could it be love? As much as the spawn would loathe to admit such a vulnerable thing, deep down he knows the truth of his unbeating heart.

“Darling.” He hisses through his teeth, sharp fangs catching on his lip. You hum softly in acknowledgment, squeezing your fist tighter on every up slide, his pre dripping against his stomach. Astarion groans, toes flexing.

“Hush now, I’ve got you. My good boy.”

And something in him must break, he must have shattered the last bit of sanity left in him because his back arches, legs curling to his chest as he cums, long streaks of it against his belly and thighs. His eyes twitch, jaw slack with a crumpled moan. You hold him throughout it all, whispering softly in his sensitive ear, telling him all the things he needs to hear. He only hopes that you mean it all.

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Infatuation

Yandere!Highschool Sweetheart x gn!Reader

warnings: gore, unreliable narrator

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

It was sickly, well almost. Or perhaps it was already dangerous and he just missed the last opportunity to clutch onto his fading sanity like a lifeline.

He genuinely didn't know. What he did know was that you, adorable, sweet, pristine,angelic, beautiful, ravishing, mystic, alluring, dazzling, misleading, annoying, irritating, a grotesque form of living had dared to reject him not once, but twice.

What did you mean by you didn't love him anymore—that he was a toxic prick?

He wasn't, he swore! He just couldn't help but keep you all to himself. You were highschool sweethearts after all, no one should have the balls to pick your relationship apart, and yet you did, you dissected the dynamic of your relationship, questioned if it was healthy for the both of you, even going as far as questioning if he was genuine with his loving or simply wanted a little trophy to keep by his side.

That night he was so enraged, he could have smashed your head against the doorknob, in the hopes of the handle poking out one of your eyes and leaving you wounded and in his care. But he didn't.

He was unusually quiet, collected, passive even. It wasn't the first time you tried to escape the grasp of his slimy hands, yet his fangs were far to deeply sunken into your flesh for you, little bird, to free yourself.

“Look at you now, withering and wailing. Didn't take my sweetheart for such a weakling.” he laughed, briskly briefing mania, on the verge of insanity swallowing him whole.

He crouched down, the epilogue that played in his head coming to a fade-out as he squeezed your broken chin in his hand, admiring his handiwork, the severed fingers laying in a pool of blood next to your crumpled up body, blue decorating your ribs, while he made sure to crack both of your knees real good.

Ha, maybe he wasn't on the brink of insanity, but was already mad? Could be.

He chuckled again, watching you in your delirious state, sobbing, only half conscious.

“Now Love, what about our relationship? I think this is just right. You love me and I love you. I am just a little itsy bit mad whenever you question that and have to remind you of my undying devotion, right my dear?”

He purred in delight, forcing your head to bob before your world turned blank with the sound of metal crashing into your skull.

[luvjunie]

— Unforgettable ( 3 )

part one • part two • part three • part four • part five

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

contains: sooo much fluff, plot progression, a glimpse into reader and miles’ relationship, the moment we’ve all been waiting for 🤭, and another itty bitty plot twist

summary: a bump in with a certain boy at the bodega threatens to ruin your previously perfect afternoon until he offers to fix it. you assumed things would end there, and then you ran into him again. wc: 3,254

a/n: i know y’all ain’t think i forgot about this series!!! but here’s a long chapter as an apology since i made y’all wait so long </3 also did i say an ‘itty bitty’ plot twist? cause i be lying. recap of part two is in small italics!

prev | next

“You had her approval as soon as you called her Mrs. Morales.”

Your head tilted in question, eyes panning to the ceiling in thought. “Isn’t that normal? Calling someone’s parent by their last name?”

A comfortable silence settled, just for a moment.

“You’d think so.” A smile curled Miles’ lips, the memory of when he’d introduced the first girl he’d ever liked to his parents flashing into his mind; his interest in tossing the ball paused momentarily as images from the past flooded his thoughts.

Wait… Why was he thinking about her?

. . .

“Miles?”

“Milesss?”

“Huh?” Miles blinked quickly as he brought himself back to the present, his slightly startled gaze landing on your puzzled expression.

“Earth to Morales?” Your tone leaked with a playfulness as you quirked a brow at him. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“Nah, sorry,” Miles cleared his throat, then scratched his forehead with a laugh he hoped didn’t sound too awkward. “Just spaced out for a sec. What’d you say?”

“I saiddd,” Laying on your stomach as your thumbs twiddled along the screen of your phone, you sent a quick text before you continued. “—It’s getting kinda late, and if I’m not home in the next thirty minutes my Grandma will alert the entire police force over my absence.” you chuckled, the perpetual buzzes of replies sounding from your phone only furthering your point.

“Oh— Yeah, you’re right. My bad, I didn’t even realize.” Miles stood and grabbed his coat from the hook off his closet door before he turned towards you with a warm grin.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home.”

—

Miles had been staring at his ceiling ever since he got back home, headphones blasting music over his ears to drown out the inevitable. For what seemed like hours, and for what probably was, he was trapped in an endless rumination he didn’t want to be a part of.

The grace his weekend temporarily granted him had unfortunately come to an end, and before he knew it, there was a knock on his bedroom door that reminded him of the upcoming drive him and his dad had to make back to Visions.

—

“Dude, this is so stupid. My head is about to explode from all this thinking.” Clad in a wifebeater and plaid boxers as he laid on the top bunk, Miles whined out what had only been his hundredth complaint in the span of fifteen minutes.

“And I can’t find my bonnet!”

Miles’ voice was muffled by the fluff of his pillow, the same pillow that was clutched tightly and caged between his arms as an effort to cling onto the last bit of his sanity. Also the same pillow that’d gone flat nearly two months ago. How convenient.

He thought talking Ganke’s ear off about all his feelings would help sort through his thoughts, but it did the exact opposite. Miles’ feelings for you were growing, that was an undeniable fact, so he still couldn’t figure out why after an entire year, Gwen was still on his mind. Why couldn’t he just forget about her?

“I really like this girl, man. Like, really, really like her. Like, Sunflower ain’t got shit on this girl, like her.” Miles blinked, astonished at his own words as he carried on, “Like, I offered to walk her home instead of having my mom drive her, like her—“

“Bro— Bro. I get it,” Ganke interrupted.

“I didn’t even know I could feel like this for someone else!” Pulling himself into a seated position, Miles let his legs dangle over the side of the bed. “I mean, I even let her meet my parents. You know how I am about that!” He exclaimed, arms outstretched as if they would help him present his case better. Ganke, in fact, did not know how he was about that.

“That obviously means I’m over Gwen! Right?”

No answer.

“Right?”

“I dunno, dude! Now you see why I don’t even bother dealing with that kind’a junk. It’s confusing as hell. “ Ganke’s eyes darted from side to side as they tracked the video game on his PC’s monitor, tongue poking at his lip in intense concentration. His half-baked advice to Miles was as much as he could muster without losing focus on his Call of Duty mission. “That’s love for you, man.”

Miles’ eyes went wide and his heart began to race. “Woah woah woah— I ain’t say anything about love!” Technically, he did, just in different words.

With a weighted sigh the controller plunked out of Ganke’s hands and down onto the desk, ‘MISSION FAILED’ flashing in bold onto the screen.

“Alright, look,” Ganke spun around in his chair and glanced up at the top bunk. “If you like this girl as much as you say you do, why don’t you just go for it? What’s stopping you? A girl who’s not even here anymore?” he scoffed. “Quit dwelling on the past and look at what’s right in front of you. You know, someone who’s actually in this universe.”

Miles sat with pursed lips as he stared down at his open palms, treading in the water of his thoughts.

“You know what,” Head raising, he looked to his roommate with a newfound determination. “You’re right, Ganke. Starting tonight, I’m done thinking about the past.” Miles nodded.

“Great, now either let me get back to my mission in peace, or grab a damn controller and help me.”

Ganke was right. Gwen’s gone, and she wasn’t coming back. It’s not even possible.

Miles let the conclusion settle within him as he dug around in the junk drawer for the spare controller.

It’s time for him to move on.

—

As you relaxed on your back in the room you’d been in more times than you could even remember at this point, head idly bopping to an album by Tears for Fears, you thought back to the time before you knew Miles. And even though you hadn’t known him for nearly as long as you’d known yourself— maybe just caught up in the whirlwind of something new and exciting, or him in general— you couldn’t help but feel as if his presence had been missing from your life this entire time.

Spending the day with him had become as normal as breathing to you. His space had become your space (his words), and it rang true as you hummed along to the tune echoing from the record player on his desk.

“Help me to decide. Help me make the most of freedom, and of pleasure. Nothing ever lasts forever…”

The song ‘Everybody Wants to Rule the World’ wrapped you snug in a warm sense of nostalgia, it having been one of your favorites since middle school. And paired with being around your favorite person— you were sure you never wanted to leave this moment. You smiled to yourself at the upside down image you had of Miles as you let your head hang over the side of his bed, the beads on the ends of your braids clinking against his wooden floors when your head tilted with a new found query.

“Miles,”

He hummed, but it wasn’t the kind that sounded as if you’d interrupted him, or as if he were annoyed. It was the kind that let you know he was interested in whatever you wanted to tell him, and that you had his attention even if his eyes weren’t on you.

“Okay, bear with me here. And answer carefully, because this kind of decides the type of person you are and whether I’ll even speak to you afterwards.”

“Wait, what is it?” He quickly looked up at you—upside down you, at least— with concerned eyes and you struggled to hide your grin.

“What color do you think science is?”

“Are you serious?” He deadpanned.

Your brow raise was his answer.

“Green, obviously.”

“Interesting choice. Why green?”

Miles shrugged, “Cause of the environment. Plants are green. And when I think of plants, I think of photosynthesis. Photosynthesis, equals science. Therefore,” pen in hand, he made a ‘viola’ gesture. “Green.”

“Mm,” You scrunched your nose, eyes panning back to the ceiling. “I guess I can see that.”

“And math is blue.” He tacked on.

“Blue!?” You balked, flipping over onto your stomach so his face was right side-up now. “Math? Blue? Are you deadass?”

“As dead as ass can be.” Miles quipped with a snort and continued to scribble away at the page he’d been sketching on for the last half hour.

“History is blue, not math!” You scoffed.

“Alright Y/n, what other color would math be then?” He asked incredulously.

“Red, duh.”

“Red?” He repeated breathlessly. “Why would math be red?”

“Well,” you started, “Math makes me angry. And when I think about anger, I think about the color red, just like everybody else does. And I hate red, just like I hate math. Numbers and letters do not belong together, just like pineapple on pizza. Therefore,” you mimicked his previous gesture to the air with a confident grin. “Red.”

“Pineapple— Numbers… What?” Miles blinked at you with both disbelief and confusion, the corners of his mouth threatening to expose his amusement as they lifted. “That’s it? That’s your grand explanation?”

“Mm-hm.” You hummed proudly, chin perched in both your hands.

Miles shook his head as his smile finally made itself known, dimples and all the moment your lashes batted at him.

“Not gon’ lie to you, that sounded like a whole bunch’a bullshit.” He laughed at your fake offended expression.

One of Miles’ favorite things about you was how you always seemed to ramble about everything, and nothing at the same time. He thought it was adorable.

“Well, the math part I understand, I guess.” he shrugged. “But you can’t possibly hate the color red all that much.”

Your brows furrowed at him, “What makes you say that?”

“Cause,” Miles turned his sketchbook towards you, the drawing he’d been working on this entire time revealed to be a moment he’d caught of you, gazing up at his ceiling just the way you were a moment ago. “Look.”

You nearly felt your heart stop as you took in what was in front of you. All this time while you were in your own world, singing along to whatever song came and went, he’d been focused solely on you. You dragged your eyes up from the paper so they’d meet his, your calves swiftly tucking under your thighs when you rushed to sit up in a straighter position.

“I—Is that me?” You blabbed out before you could think.

“Nah, it’s Boo-Boo the fool.” Miles huffed out a laugh. “Yes, it’s you dummy.”

Gentle strokes of red to the thin paper framed your face and lips, the attention to detail he used brought your eyes to life on the page, and he’d even managed to capture the beads on the bottom of your braids, too.

“How the hell did you do that?”

He shrugged shyly and turned his artwork to face him once more, studying the page as if he hadn’t been doing just that all this time. His heart was beginning to race faster than he’d originally predicted, and he wondered if he should’ve shown you.

“It’s kind of muscle memory at this point.”

Miles heard the words that came out of his own mouth, and you did too, but it was like the both of you comprehended exactly what he’d said at the same time.

“Don’t—“ He tried, but it was too late, you were already gushing, and he was already blushing.

“Awwwww!”

“Please—“

“Milessss!” you teased, ignoring his plea.

“Stop it.” Flustered, he shielded a smile behind his hand and tried to look anywhere else but your face.

“You’re so cute when you blush.”

—

Things were beyond easy with Miles.

The two of you never ran out of things to talk about and he always matched your energy, as if he were the other half of you.

There were no awkward moments, or pressure towards the other about making a move, because deep down you both knew what this was, and that everything would fall into place with time.

It was apparent in the way he looked at you, in how perfectly you fit in his arms when he hugged you goodbye, and how you always relaxed in his embrace when he would hold onto you just a bit longer.

Your first date went perfectly. Well, not really, but that’s what made it even better.

An ominous ‘be ready in 20 mins’ text to your phone and about a half hour later, Miles popped up at your door, pink tulips in hand and a smile big enough to match his signature jacket.

The two of you decided to catch a movie after a short train ride to the theater, and he let you pick. Horror being one of your favorite genres, that’s what you went with, and like everything else that came with you, Miles agreed.

But just thirteen minutes in at one of the simplest jumpscares (if you could even call it one), Miles let out a scream belonging on one of the highest vocal registers your ears had ever heard, and it sent you into such an uncontrollable fit of laughter that you ended up accidentally spilling your fresh popcorn all over the floor.

Miles’ ego wasn’t nearly big enough for him to remain embarrassed once the tears started rolling from your eyes, and eventually, the laughter he tried to stifle made itself known to everyone sitting around you. And when you say everyone, you mean everyone.

It only took two minutes of you guys cackling and snorting before the both of you were asked to leave, and you had no idea how you made it out of the theater with how hard your stomachs were cramping.

—

Sure, the movie hadn’t gone quite as planned, but you didn’t mind and neither did he. As long as you both were in each other’s company, you wouldn’t mind watching paint dry.

The blue hue of the night had long enveloped the city, and as you and Miles sat up on the roof of his apartment, the dimmed fairy lights twinkling in the darkness from where they were strung across the perimeter, you made a mental note to study up on the movie you told your Grandma you were staying out late to see.

You leaned into Miles and rested your head on his shoulder, knees pulling to your chest as you exhaled softly.

“You cold?”

Far from it, actually.

A perpetual breeze prompted your bodies to curl into each other more, though goosebumps and chattering teeth were nowhere in sight, only fingers secretly inching closer and hearts growing fonder.

“I should be asking you, I’m wearing your jacket.” you joked.

“Nah,” he chuckled. “I’m alright.”

The silence was comfortable. You didn’t want to go home just yet and Miles wasn’t ready to say goodbye for the night, so you stayed.

This had become a new norm for the two of you, so much so that this was pretty much how all your hangouts ended. You’d stay just a little longer, and then he’d take you home. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but for some weird reason you always felt much safer when you were with Miles, like he’d be able to protect you if anything were to happen when the two of you were together.

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“Have you ever been in love before?”

Miles’ voice was quiet, nearly drowned out from the lively sounds of the city around you. You were surprised you even heard it.

You swallowed, and it took so much effort to form your lips around the simple word you answered with. “W-what?”

He cleared his throat as his posture straightened slightly. “Like, do you know what love is? Is what I mean...” He clarified quickly, mentally cursing himself for how badly he worded things, even if it’s what he meant. He didn’t even know if you felt the same.

You lifted your head from his shoulder, prompting his own to turn towards you, but you didn’t meet his eyes. You settled for toying with the sleeve of his jacket as your heart began to thrum a little faster.

Nibbling at the inside of your lip, you inhaled quietly before answering. “When they’re the first person your mind thinks of when you hear the word ‘love’. Or maybe when the thought of them gets you out of bed in the morning instead of your alarm clock. You know when you know, basically. That’s what I was taught, and I think it checks out.” you glanced over at him, and he felt like time stopped when your eyes locked.

“Do you?” you asked.

“H-Huh?” Miles was enthralled with how pretty you looked, and how your features were perfectly illuminated by the gentle glow of the city lights, so much so that he could hardly think straight.

Rolling your eyes and suppressing a giggle, you shook your head at him. “—Do you know what love is, dummy.”

“Not exactly— uh, I don’t think so, no.” Miles’ jaw tensed and his gaze met yours once more. The twinkle in your eyes temporarily dimming due to the fear of this all being in your head.

“Oh.” you murmured.

“But I think I know what it feels like.” He said softly.

“Really?”

Lips parting slightly for a shaky breath to pass, Miles nodded. “Positive.”

Your eyes fell down to his lips almost immediately, then lifted back up to see that his had done the same to yours.

“Well… What does it feel like?”

The question left your mouth long before you could’ve thought to stop it, yet regret was the last thing you felt. What you were feeling was something entirely different.

Your faces grew closer until your noses brushed against each others, a second spared as a chance for either of you to bail on what you both knew was bound to happen in a matter of time.

He leaned in and you let him— let your arms curl around his neck and his around your waist so your lips could meet faster. Let your lips move against each other’s because it felt right, because that’s what you knew love to be. Letting something happen because it felt right.

He felt right.

Miles pulled away, but barely, his breath warm against your lips. “Come to my parent’s party tomorrow?” He blurted.

Hands holding the back of his neck, you blinked yourself out of your daze, brows furrowed. “What?”

“My dad, they’re making him police captain. We’re celebrating tomorrow, here, and I want you to come.” Miles licked his lips. “Well I— I was gonna invite you anyway. But now I really want you to come. And I wanted you to come before this happened, obviously—“

“I’d love to.” You smiled, and let him pull you back into him the second you’d given your answer.

—

Miles remembered what it was like to be so head over heels in love with someone that it consumed him entirely. How it corrupted his days and fogged his mind with nothing but the thought of them, and he could feel himself slipping back into it again, but this time, with you. And if he were being honest, it kind of scared him, how quickly you’d claimed his heart.

But what he did know was that you liked him, and he liked you. He’ll admit, he didn’t expect his feelings for you to develop as fast as they did, for them to hit him as hard as they had. But he was past that now. Tomorrow was going to be special, and not just for his family, but for the two of you. He was finally going to take the leap he’d been too scared to make before tonight.

You were the perfect girl, that he was sure of. And who’d be dumb enough to not accept perfect when it was right in front of them?

He wanted this. He wanted you.

But any chance for another sensical thought was interrupted when the impossible happened.

‘Impossible’, being the multi-layered hexagonal portal that suddenly opened up on his ceiling, and the blonde-haired, gap-toothed girl he thought he’d never see again, appearing with it.

Bright and beaming down at him with a heart-halting grin, Miles felt his stomach drop as soon as she spoke.

“Miles!”

Shit.

taglist: @burymeinside @secret-ssociety @whatamidoing89 @urmotherswhor3 @valovesyou @inlovewithfictionalppl @edgyficuselastica @motherwanda @mybfmiles @axeoverblade @miumiulicious @sukisprettyface @gwennesy @simpnotapimp @kanvis @cleo-dearts @retirement-home @lunaramune @silas-222 @citrusequalsfrogs @itsberrydreemurstuff @spritecranverry @mewhenimanangel @wisteriaflowersss

(if you asked to be tagged and i didn’t tag you, that’s because your user didn’t show up 💔)

[simphornies]

Good Morning/Afternoon/Night!

Can I please request a Vox x Female Angel Reader but it's more based on this KDrama show of Son-o Gong and Jin seon mi

Where Son-O Gong(Vox) have this bracelet on his wrist would that would always gripped onto his heart whenever and if he ever made Jin seon mi(Reader) Sad or Scared?

And the fact only Reader is able to take the bracelet off of him but the thing is...Reader still doesn't trust him and unfortunately to Box's dismay his power of hipnotizing someone doesn't work on Reader to take the bracelet off...

(PS: If Reader is happy or Content or anything but sad or scared Box will remain unharmed by the bracelet's power)

A/N: Honestly, I haven't watched that show. I wish I could but I don't have Netflix </3 Anyways I hope this is good enough for your request anon! It was a fun write. I apologize if it's not what you wanted. I also don't know how to title this <3

Word count: 3.3k (3,315)

Vox x Reader

The last extermination was filled with casualties on both sides. Hell and Heaven lost souls. You, however, lost your absolute sanity after the extermination. You tried to stop the extermination and almost caused an uprising. You deliberately caused disorder within the heavenly principles that led to you falling like Lucifer while everyone in Hell had their guards up. You snuck into a tall building with three V’s at the top, hoping someone wouldn’t catch you.

Unfortunately for you, the overlord that owned the building caught you as soon as you walked in. You two made eye contact. He was in absolute shock, maybe with a little bit of fear, that there’s now a whole angel in his lobby. Before he could make a move to attack, you flew straight towards him and clasped a bracelet on his wrist that immediately adjusted its size to his wrist. He felt a shift in his body, his heart felt tight. The bracelet was one that you had made, a special bracelet that gave you a little bit of control on the wearer and gauged off of your emotions.

You were scared after being spotted, causing the bracelet to immediately send a tightness in his chest, bringing him to the ground.

“What the fuck is this?” Vox cussed, clutching his chest with his claws, almost ripping his suit. “I didn’t do shit. What do you want from me? Who are you? What business does an angel have in my building?”

“I…” You cleared your throat and stood tall, “My name is Y/N. That bracelet is now connected to your heart. You are under my control. You won’t be able to take or break it off.” Your fear subsided and so did the pain in Vox’s chest. He took deep breaths, choosing to stay on the floor as he looked up at you. “I’ve fallen from Heaven. I want you to take me in. We can make a deal. I’ll provide you assistance and protection in exchange for a place to live and funds to do so for as long as I desire.”

Though you held yourself with confidence, Vox didn’t miss the gloss over your eyes as if you were just crying. He slowly gets up, the height difference between you two becoming obvious as he now looks down at you. “Alright, angel.” He held his hand out to you, “A deal then. Not like I have a choice, do I?”

You reached for his hand to shake it but before you could take it, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you close to him. An arm snaked around your waist and he looked you in the eyes. His left eye started to spiral, “Why don’t you take this bracelet off for me, Y/N?” His voice was laced with a video sound effect. He was trying to hypnotize you.

You stared at him with an unimpressed look. His grin faltered at your expression. “Excuse my profanity but what the fuck are you doing?”

He blinked, eye no longer spiraling. He pulled away, “Fuck does it not work on you?” He mumbled to himself.

You tilted your head before realizing what he was trying to do. “Oh.” You laughed a bit at his attempt to which he side-eyes you for. “Sorry. I forgot to tell you. Your ‘powers’ won’t work on me as long as you have that bracelet on.” You pat his shoulder, “Nice try though!”

Vox groaned, “And you didn’t start with that? What else does this shit have?”

“Why would I tell you that?” You smiled at him, holding your hands behind your back, “Just be a good boy for me and you won’t get hurt, okay? Let’s be friends.”

“Friends?” He scoffed, “I’m stuck under your ‘control’ or whatever that fuckin’ means and you want to be friends?”

“Look Mr. Flatscreen Head, do you really think I’m gonna be stuck in here without some sort of security?” You huffed, “I can’t trust you but you’re stuck with me, deal or not, you can’t get that bracelet off and if you do anything to me…Well. You’ll find out.”

“First of all,” He crossed his arms, squinting at you, “My name is Vox. Not Flatscreen Head. And second of all. That’s a fair point. You’re smarter than you look and I’m not really going to test anything out with this tacky device. Shit hurt when you first put it on.”

You squinted back at him, “Tacky?” You say, offended. “It’s not my fault you can’t rock gold.”

He gasped, “How dare you say I can’t rock gold. I can most definitely rock gold.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah whatever you say, Vox.” Your voice was laced with sass.

Vox didn’t want to admit it, but the way you say his name was like music to his ears. He straightened his suit and held his hands behind his back, copying you. “Whatever. You can stay here. On one condition.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “Bold of you to order conditions considering you’re stuck in that bracelet. But I’ll allow it, what is it?”

“You stay in my room.”

“What? Why?”

“Look at you.” He gestured to your outfit and your very obviously angelic hair style. “You’re obviously not from here. And I can’t guarantee someone will try some shit knowing there’s an angelic being in here. And I can keep you safe there better than if you were in your own room, I’ll be closer so if there’s anything you need, I’m there.”

You squint, crossing your arms, “Sounds like a trap.”

He blinked and held out the wrist that the bracelet was on, “I’m the one that’s really trapped here.”

“Fine.” You say, giving in, “Whatever. But I want my own bed. I’m not sleeping next to you. I don’t know what your sinful motives are.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Of course you’ll get your own bed. Wait…” A smirk crept up on his face, “You thought you were going to be in the same bed as me?” He leaned close to your face, “What were you thinking I was going to do to you, huh? Somethin’ dirty, angel?”

Your face turns red as you push his screen away, “N-No! I…” You groaned, covering your face as you turned your head away, “Shut up! I wasn’t thinking of such things with you.”

He grabbed your chin and made you look at him. He takes in your red face, “You know…I wouldn’t mind doing some sinful things with a beauty like you, angel.”

You were going to explode and your heart felt funny. You knew you couldn’t trust demons and this might just be one of his tricks to get you to take the bracelet off. You were unbelievably flustered and tried to pull away from him but he just snaked his arm around your waist, one of his claws gently tracing where your wings popped out of, making them flutter.

“Now that I look closer at you, I wouldn’t mind being stuck to you.” He grins, a teasing tone obvious in his voice.

“Free me from your grasp, demon! Let me go!” You protest as you retract your wings into your body to stop him from messing with the base. “Just take me to the damn room!”

With one swift movement, you were now being carried in his arms. “I’ll take you there, no need to walk.” He winked.

“Stop flirting with me for fucks sake.” You complained. Your face could not get any redder at his boldness.

“Hmmm…No. It’s actually fun for me. I’m stuck under your control and with you. Might as well make the situation worth it.”

.

And that’s how you and Vox first met when you fell in Hell a year ago. His flirty advances never wavered over the months you spent with him. You often caught him trying to sneak into your bed when you were going to sleep to which you simply just roughly pushed him off with your wings, not even bothering to turn your body to face him. Over the span of the year, the two of you grew to be close friends and trusted each other with secrets. You often spent time accompanying him to business meetings as an extra form of intimidation to push other sinners to agree to the deals he offered. Your sanity was drained at every attempt. You didn’t want to admit it, but you enjoyed the attention he gave you.

With your presence, his power grew and so did your love and admiration for each other. None of you admitted to each other of said feelings but to the other Vees, who you also became close friends with, it was quite obvious. The looks you two would exchange with each other, your hands brushing by each other seemingly on accident but definitely on purpose, the way one side of your wings wrapped slightly curved around him during business meetings while the other remained straighter and the endless gifts you two would give each other.

Vox quickly found out what the bracelet’s powers did to him. He misplaced his anger at you once when he was going on an angry rampage about Alastor. He said something that was directed at Alastor and you came in at the wrong time. You thought he was talking badly about you, his harsh words made you cry and as soon as you did, Vox’s heart was in pain. He clutched his chest while you weeped. He sucked up his pain and chilled his anger out. He comforted you, reassuring you that he didn’t mean for that to be directed at you. He held you close to him as you calmed down. He rubbed your back, immediately soothing you. He wiped the tears off of your face. “Stop crying, your face wasn’t made for so much sorrow.”

Your sadness was quickly replaced with a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest the moment what he said processed in your head. The instant you weren’t sad anymore, Vox no longer felt the tightness in his chest. You simply leaned into his hug, your face burying into his chest. His scent was something that you grew accustomed to so much that it brought you comfort whenever he wasn’t around. As soon as you calmed down enough, the intimate position you were both in made you two unbelievably flustered. His systems began to rise in heat but neither of you wanted to pull away because that meant looking at each other after this moment.

So you two just stayed there for a while in silence. It took a lot of bravery for Vox to pull away to excuse himself. “My system’s overheating. From the pain! The pain! Nothing else. I have to fix that. I’ll see you later.” He quickly states before teleporting away. You put your hands up to your cheeks, feeling the warmth on them, “I’m overheating too…” You mumbled to yourself.

Velvette and Valentino enjoyed the increase in power ever since you came into the picture so they dropped their guards around you, no longer seeing you as a threat after a while. You and Velvette would often chat with each other, talking shit about anything and everything you both found entertaining. She’d constantly post pictures of you two whenever you would hang out with her. You and Valentino would talk about wing care all the time, often helping him clean his wings as you two talked about the latest trends and his latest porn shoots (which you would always get flustered at).

One day, you confided in them both about the way Vox made you feel in grave detail. Valentino and Velvette glanced at each other before dying a second time from laughter. You got flustered at their reactions.

“I’m so serious! Stop laughing! I’m having a crisis!” You yelled at them, your face turning into a bright red. “I don’t get it.”

“Y/N! Are you fuckin’ serious?” Velvette managed to say in between laughs, “For an ‘intelligent angel’ from Heaven” She spoke, doing an air quotes gesture with her fingers, “You’re pretty dense.”

“Oh my god. Please.” Valentino wheezed out, “My stomach hurts from laughing too much. I can’t believe you said all of that.”

“Will you two quit bullying me and tell me what’s going on? I don’t understand any of this.” You begged. You sat there, arms crossed with a displeased expression on your face as you watched them get the laughing out of their system.

After what seemed like forever, the two Vees took deep breaths in and they each put a hand on one of your shoulders.

“Y/N.” They said in unison.

“You want to fuck him.” Valentino says.

“You’re in love with him.” Velvette said, at the same time as Valentino.

You blinked at them, “No. That can’t possibly be-”

“Y/N! Are you seriously that dumb?” Velvette facepalmed, “Okay look. Think of it this way. How would you feel if Vox started dating somebody that wasn’t you?”

You pondered for a moment and you felt your heart drop. And it all hit you. You were in love with him.

“Oh my god.” You gasp, “Fuck. Fuck! What do I do about this?” Panic set in. You can’t possibly look at Vox normally after coming to this realization.

“I think you two should fuck.” You and Velvette stared at him with disappointed faces to which he responded with a shrug, “That’s what I’d do.”

Velvette smacks him in the arm before averting her attention back to you. “How about this…I’ll set you both up on a date and you confess to him.”

“A date?! Why would Vox want to go on a date with me? He doesn’t even feel the same way.”

“Oh my fucking god.” Velvette groaned, “Are you serious?”

“He literally eye fucks you.” Valentino said, grinning with delight.

“Stop! No he doesn’t.”

“Y/N. Babes. I love you. I appreciate you. But you are so fucking stupid sometimes.” Velvette groaned, “He’s literally constantly all up on you. He flirts with you.”

“He stares at your ass when you walk by him.” Valentino added, puffing out red smoke.

“And didn’t you say he constantly tries to sneak into your bed at night? The signs are all there, you are so dense.”

It didn’t take a lot of effort for Velvette and Valentino to shove you into the hottest outfit Velvette could create and Valentino agreed on. Everything happened so fast after you confided in the two that you were now sitting in a fancy restaurant waiting for Vox to arrive.

Vox was forced into the best suit, one that matched your outfit, that Velvette made. They didn’t tell him why he was going out in such an outfit or who he was going to meet. They just shoved him in a car that brought him to the restaurant. He was led into a private area separated from other tables with a velvet curtain.

As soon as the curtain is lifted, Vox looks at the table where you were sitting in shock. You get up and walk over to greet him, “H-Hey!” You nervously spoke, “I’m guessing they didn’t tell you why you were here?”

Vox took in the sight of you, internally saving the sight into one of his folders. You looked absolutely gorgeous in front of him. “No…They, uh…” He was unable to form words, too distracted by your beauty. “They just uh…” His systems started to fail him, there were sparks coming out of him.

“They insisted we go on a date together…” You blushed, looking away from him as to not look at the way he admired you. “I need to talk to you.”

He regained his composure at your explanation, “A date?! We’re on a date?” He asks, a bit too excitedly as his tone changes. He clears his throat, “Please. Please, sit.”

He zapped over to the chair you were on and pulled it out for you. You gave him a shy smile and sat down as he pushed you closer to the table before taking a seat for himself across from you. “Soooo…” He nervously fidgeted with the edges of his suit, “What…did you want to talk about?”

“Well…Well okay. Um. First! I want to take the bracelet off of you.” Your words brought a shocked expression on his face.

“Really? What…what made you choose to do that?” He glanced at the bracelet on his wrist, something he grew accustomed to.

“Well that brings me to my second point…” You nervously laugh and break eye contact with him. You fidgeted with your hair, “I think I…developed some…feelings for you?” You whispered low enough for him not to hear.

“What was that?” He leaned closer over the table.

“I like you!” You blurt out. “I think I’ve been liking you for a little bit. And I don’t want you to be bound to me by that bracelet so I’m taking it off!” Without making eye contact, you slid the bracelet off of his wrist. “I don’t need this anymore. If you don’t like me, it’s fine. I get it. I just…I needed to tell you.” You looked up at him, his face was filled with astonishment which made you nervously laugh and keep talking to fill the silence.

“I was talking to Velvette and Valentino and they were saying silly things like how you like me back! Haha…I know that can’t be true but I know I do like you. I just keep feeling all warm and fuzzy around you. And whenever you’re not in our room at night, I’d miss your scent and your attempts at sneaking into my bed. I told them that and that’s when they told me I actually have feelings for you and I just didn’t realize it. You don’t have to return them! Um…It’s fine! This is actually really silly-”

While you were blabbering over and over about how much you liked him, Vox stood next to you. You didn’t realize it until he pulled you up from your chair and held you close to him. Your body was pressed up against his and he had his hand around your waist. You turn a bright red at this action. “Vox? What are you-”

“I like you too, angel.” He spoke softly before giving you a kiss. Your wings popped out of your back in surprise, feathers all fluffed out. You shut your eyes and kissed him back, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck. Your heart was pounding and you can feel his was too. The kiss you two shared wasn’t long but it felt like eternity to you both. It wasn’t until then that you realized his usual blue screen had turned into a pinkish red. Was he…blushing? Is that how he blushed? “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that. I thought you didn’t like me. I’ve just been hoping my flirting would work on you.”

You looked up at him and smiled, “Well…To an extent, it sure did help.” You left a kiss on his screen.

He cupped your cheek in his hand, “Does this mean we’re dating now?”

“Silly question. Yes, it does.”

You two share another passion filled kiss before continuing your date, laughing and drinking the night away.

.

“Hey babe.” Vox slides next to you on a rolling chair while you work, grinning with delight.

“Yes, Vox?” You responded, not looking at him.

“Did it hurt?”

Your attention and gaze was now on him, squinting in suspicion. “Did…what hurt?”

“When you fell from Heaven.” He winked at you.

“Vox.”

“Yes, baby?”

“Think fast.” You quickly say before smacking him with your wing, knocking him off of his chair.

“Ow! That hurt!” He whined.

You rolled your eyes and continued your work, giggling a bit. “Terrible line.”

[yuri-is-online]

The Rains Have Ceased (Riddle, Cater, and Idia x Yuu)

You have been having strange dreams lately. Every time you go to sleep you se the same set of flashing images, a carriage ride, a crumbling castle under a ink stained sky, ending in the jaws of a monster. The pain you feel from the flames makes you wonder, on nights when you are alone in Ramshackle with Grim, if those dreams are less fiction and more of a memory.

You are not the only one who has those dreams. There's another, laying awake in his bed, hand clutched tightly over his frantically beating heart trying desperately to hold the fraying edges of his sanity together. How many times has he done this? How many times has he tried to hold onto the last fleeting traces of warmth in you with his cold, unworthy hands.

Again. He loves you, that is the one thing that refuses to change no matter how many times the world is reset. He loves you, he has no choice but to try again.

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu,more of this here (ie which boys would go insane trying to save Yuu from a time loop), heavy angst, hurt almost no comfort, borderline yandere behavior, major character death, references to murder, everyone is self destructing. If this made you feel something you can check out my masterlist here.

Riddle

He handles things extremely poorly when there is no guide book or rules he can follow. If it is made clear to him that there is no way of saving Yuu, that cosmic law has decreed they die, then he has no real choice but to let them... unless there is some way to take their place. Riddle is determined to be the very best at everything, and he is a bit of a brat when it comes to things that make him angry, but he becomes desperate help his friends when they find themselves in situations he feels that he has caused. He can accept that there is no way for you to be together, the chances of that were admittedly already pretty slim; you are from a different world and his mother almost certainly has plans for him he would find difficult to ignore. What he cannot accept there is no chance for you to live, he'd even be content to watch you fall in love with someone else just please, please live. He cannot bring himself to confess to anyone what it is he is trying to do, Trey would absolutely try to stop him, Ace and Deuce wouldn't accept your fate, and he doesn't know how Cater would react. He satisfies himself with telling you he loves you every time he dies in your place, whether it is in your arms or not.

Cater

TBH he is not really someone you can rely on in this situation bestie. Not because he doesn't love you, he's past denying that, but because Cater already doesn't want to dwell on what things could have been. His dorm uniform has a voice line lamenting you aren't in Heartsabyul but brushing it off because there just isn't any use in wishing for things. With each reset he spirals further and further, it gets harder for him to keep his mask in place. Why do you keep dying if he isn't going out of his way to save you? And why can't he stop caring about you? Is it because in spite of everything he still loves you? Cater is actually pretty good at dealing with people and making plans, he could maybe keep you alive a little bit longer if he helped. He eventually lets that thought slip to Lilia, who believes him purely based on the fact it's him saying it. Lilia does his best to help, picking Cater's mind for observations of each loop and trying to make a plan. He wonders if he is even worthy of you if he cannot make a plan to save you, if you will hate him if you realize how passive he has been. No matter how many times Lilia points out that you have loved him in every life time, or that he can say he has been passive all he likes but he has been going out of his way to watch over you from the shadows, Cater refuses to accept that he is just as faultless in this as you. His smile and optimism are determined to stay gone.

Idia

So. The last time someone in his life died in front of him he turned them into a robot. While you were dying in front of him the thought of making a new Yuu did cross his mind, he almost had a stroke from how pleased he was when he woke up before orientation for a second go with all his memories in tact. Ortho is brought into the loop immediately, as is Styx. As mixed as Idia's feelings are about the family business, he recognizes this has something to do with blot and that Styx is his best bet of saving you. Chapter 6 already proved he doesn't have much... emotion about conducting experiments that deal with blot, as a method of coping with his current situation he starts to try and gamify the time loop, or view it as an experiment. He won't feel bad about imprisoning the overblot students or deciding to take the time to study Grim. Ortho is probably the one who suggests kidnapping you before Crowley can bring you back into the mirror chamber and keeping you safe... somewhere. Maybe he takes you back to Styx, maybe he just keeps you in Ignihyde with a robot child soldier guarding you at all times. He doesn't care if you hate him, well that's not true. Idia want you to love him, he wants you to play games with him just like you used to. But something in this world is trying to kill you, and until it is gone he cannot let you out of his sight; a flower that's doomed to stay in the underworld, forevermore.

[intothewestwing]

CH 17 - If I Can't Love Her

CW: injury, physical abuse

It was routine to avoid the others when a petal was expected to fall. The simple act tended to have unfortunately violent results, in solidifying The Beast's state. With every petal fallen, a bit of his humanity would be lost. And each episode was more painful than the last.

He'd only meant to take a peek in the mirror, to see if Belle had gone down for breakfast or not. There was a price to pay each time he used the mirror's magic- he had to face his reflection. This was not something he chose to do often, for his own sanity. But it was as if The Enchantress was watching him from somewhere, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Right as he gained the courage to look into the mirror, a petal descended from the rose, and Beast fell to his knees.

The familiar agonizing pain he would never be used to, more brutal than before. From his core grew an echoing ache that spread throughout his misshapen body. His ears rang with the repeating words of The Enchantress' curse as he yelped and cried, begging for it to stop. Though in reality, this episode only lasted a few minutes, it felt like hours. Days, even. It exhausted him completely, though he had yet to fall unconscious from the event.

It felt as though forever had passed before a vision of a woman appeared above him. In his foggy state, he could not tell who it was, but surprisingly chose to be optimistic.

"Belle?" He cried, still clutching his core.

But this plea was met with no mercy, as Feya, The Enchantress, replied with mocking laughter.

"Foolish creature..."

She was early.

"You think one conversation in the rain will be enough for that stupid girl to love you?"

Beast held out his paw, pleadingly.

"Feya... Please... Make it stop..." He begged, as the pain continued to pulse through his veins.

The Enchantress ceased her laughter and slapped him across the face with no hesitation.

"Please!" He continued as he stumbled backward onto his side. As he caught his breath, he felt a trickle of blood slide down his face. "I've learned my lesson! Let me go!"

Feya wiped his blood from her ring, a delicate ring made of golden thorns, and eyed him with a smile plastered on her face.

"Have you, now?" She stepped around him, making a point to step on his paw with the heel of her boot, pressing her weight into this step.

"Tell me about the girl."

The Beast tried to pull his paw from underneath her, and whimpered as he felt her heel begin to rip his flesh. After a few seconds of torment, Feya finally let up and crouched behind him, delicately petting the hair around his horns.

He answered her demand with silence. The last thing he wanted was for Feya to get to Belle. Even if it meant enduring further punishment at her hand, he would protect Belle and spare her from Feya's relentless torture. It was, after all, what a gentleman would do. And after their time together the night before, he felt drawn to Belle in a way he couldn't explain.

The Enchantress gripped the hair she had been petting and aggressively yanked his head toward her.

"Shall I go and visit her? Shall I convince her that the only way to break the curse and save her little friends is to kill you? Hm?"

The Beast huffed and began to pant as his heart raced. He would have called her bluff if he didn't know what evil Feya was capable of.

"Leave... her... out of this..." He warned through gritted teeth.

Feya smiled and stood, pushing him forward onto the cold floor.

"Perhaps I'll pay her a visit and see if she shows me more kindness than you ever did."

As she walked around him, Beast held out his paw in an attempt to grab her ankle and trip her. This attempt would be futile, though, as she kicked his paw away and, as if it were nothing, she grabbed The Beast by the throat and held him in the air.

The fury of her dark magic swirled around them and her eyes changed from green to a pure white, just as they did the night she'd set the curse.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Her voice echoed. "You insolent creature! Have you learned NOTHING! Try something like that again and it shall be you who kills her! I will turn your body into nothing but a shell and make you watch as you tear her to pieces!"

Beast struggled and kicked his feet with the last of his strength, trying to break free from her grasp.

"Let... me... go! Leave... me... alone!" He begged one last time before Feya violently dropped him to the floor with a thud, leaving his limp body on the floor of his suite.

"As you wish, your highness."

With a flick of her wrist, The Enchantress was gone.

---------------------

When Belle found The Beast, she rushed over to his side. He was mumbling to himself, and seemed unable to hear her.

Belle's arrival was only mere minutes after The Enchantress had left him, and due to the pain he was in, he was inconsolable.

"Beast? Beast!" She shook his side and looked to see if there was a wound. Did he fall? Had he been attacked? She couldn't see any blood, and though he was conscious, he was unresponsive.

She lifted onto her knees and gently pulled his face toward her, forcing eye contact between them. When he finally met her gaze, his face filled with a rage she'd seen only once before.

Unfortunately for the both of them, Beast was in such a state of foggy confusion, that he perceived Belle to be Feya, and yanked himself from her soft grip, growling at her touch.

"I thought I made it clear I wished to be LEFT ALONE!" He roared and pushed her from him.

Belle shielded herself from his claws with her arms in front of her, and didn't fight back against his attack. She was more surprised by this reaction than anything else, as she thought they'd had a nice moment the previous night. She even had wanted to get to know him more, to become friends.

But it was clear he felt differently.

Normally, she would correct his monstrous behavior and scold his temper, but she was more disappointed and hurt by his rejection than anything. It reminded her of the men in her village, who one second seemed to worship the very ground she walked on behind closed doors, and the next, wanted nothing to do with her. They only ever wanted one thing from her, and chose to discard her once they got a taste of what they wanted.

Belle stood and brushed herself off, frowning at The Beast, fighting back her tears.

"You're just like the rest of them."

As she made her exit from The West Wing, she couldn't help but give in to the hopelessness the rest of the castle seemed to feel. In truth, she wanted to leave. She desperately missed her home. Her father. Her bed. Her books. But she felt that if she didn't break the curse over the castle, no one would. And she couldn't live with herself if she chose to leave, knowing she'd left all those poor people behind.

Even The Beast.

Though he seemed cruel and unforgiving, she had seen a kinder side of him. A tender, softer side of him. One that begged her to stay.

And so, she retreated to The East Wing for the remainder of the day, choosing to isolate herself from the rest of the castle.

[thatcheeseycandle]

//OKAY IVE RRBLOGGED THE CHAPTER AND YEAH YHE TITLE CARD ITS REACTION TIME

(Note: I may not write down all of my reactions due to them being mainly blurt outs of words and such)

Im sorry GROUNDSMANS COTTAGE???? 👀 NAHNAHAHHSBDKAAA IM ALREADY YEAH IM EXPLODING RAKAJAOAOAIDHFNC

What WHAT WHATA WDYM SAYS GOODBYE WAIT NO NO OKAY LOOK PAUSE SIT EAIT I MEAN LOOK WE ALL HATED MALLARD A LITYLE BIT AT SOME POINT BUT GOOD GOSH WE ALREADY GOT SO MANY DEATHS-

And eait BLEUPETRTO WDYM COMPANION. WAIY OKAY YEAH IM IM LOOKING

Im sorry Ig otta pause brfore reading to just admire YHE TITLE CARD GOOD GOSH ITS GORGEOUS

To be fair as far as I can remember we didnt exactly get too many solid images on locations from the canon BUT GOD ITS WORTH THE EAIT LOOK AT THAT COTTAGE!! AMAZING

Okay OKAY WAIT BLUE PETER wait MAYFLOWER MAYFLOWER AND AAAAAAASBFYJAAJOAOAOSJFNF GOD OKAY IM YEAH ITS INTERESTING THAT ITS WELSH YEAH

Cant blame you Blue Peter I learned the Welsh language through the Great Westerns HGAHAHAHDGDGDV OR YEAH ATLEAST RESEARCHING THE GWR OF COURSE

AYYYY LETS GOOO WIN WIN FOR MAYFLOWER NOW THATS NICE TO HEAR

Ay wait LMS??? 👀 WELL. YOU LEARN SOMETHING NEW EVERYDAY I SUPPOSE

"If Arrow didn't even bother with you, you knew that you had been an outcast." WELL DANG AIGHT YEAH THATS CERTAINLY SOME KNOWLEDGE.

Im sorry NRW TAILWAY????? NEW RAILWAY WAIT. OKAY RIGHT. NOTED THEN NOTED

Okay OKAY HOLD ON THERE BLUE PETER AIGHT. Okay yeah that is true yknow a black sheep in a field of white sheep YEAH ITS UNDERSTANDABLE

"We're just engines doing our best despite everything, Blue Peter, sir." give mr a minute MAYFLOWER YOU SWEET LITRLE. AIFHDJOKAY.

And good gosh okay THE CRANE WIVES IS PLAYING. And god BLUE OETER LOOK HES YEAH. Man idk IM JUST IM FRELING SAD FOR BLUE OETER LIKE THE GUY JUST YEAH HES THAT.

insert me just clutching onto a pillow so much cause Im just IM SAD FOR THESE TWO THEYRE TRAGIC OKAY

Mayflower MAYFLOWER GOD- MAY GOD GIVE HER AND BLUE OETER THE BEST THEY JUST THEY DESERVE IT OKAY THEY DO

Wait ducks. DUCKS MALLARDS WIAT WIAKALJD

Wait WIA TIEA TIB LONG LOST ENGINES THE THEORR MY THEOFYAJKA ITS CONFIRMEDM????????? NO FUCKING WAY EAIT. IM SHOCKED EAIT WAIT EIAT.. IT MIGHTVE BEDN CONFIRMED????? THAT THE MALLARD HAVE ENGINE SOULS???????

Eaiy HOD FOR A SECOND I THOUGHT IT WAS ONE OF THE MALLARDS EHO SAID THAT LAHAGAHGDJDBF PROTEUS

Wait. Give me a minute I gotta read this like eyes locked onto the screen

Insert me reading silently just taking in every single emotion

This is the bit THIS IS THE BIT WAIT ITS THE BIT THE LITTLE PEEK

Insert me yet again getting deep into the emotions cause GOD THIS HURTA

He killed Doncaster. OKAY EAIT. HE KILLED ONE OF THE A1/A3s??? OKAY YES I EXPECTED IT BUT THEN LIKE DONCASTER????????

No no. NO. WAIY WAIT. NORTH?????? THE FUCK DO UOU MEAN FUSION WAIT IS NORTH A HYBRID TOO??????? WHAT IS HAPPEMING???????

Im sorry he nearly died from trying to beat Mallards record? Im. God WHAT

Insert absolute silence as Im yeah Im just reading as my brain tries to hold onto whats last of my sanity

"I just wish you had been a better person"

Crying counter: 1

wELL ATLEAST. YEAH TYDFILS HERE.

(Im not okay God that line just IT CAUGHT ME OFF GUARD IT HITS SO HARD AT HOME.)

Ay AY AY AY LISTEN HERE NOE SHE EAS JUST GOING OUT LIKE YKNOW A WALK. SOMETHING I THINK YOUD NEED

Exactly EXACTLY PERCY EXACTLY

"I always seem to need help though" okay WHO HURT BAKU ON THIS. WHO HURT- GOD THAT HITS HARD.

Yeah YEAH GO WITH EHM TYDFIL!! SHE DESERVES A BREAK DEF DEF

AUFHGSGIDHFH GOD THIS BIT IS YEAH ITS DEF GONNA BE A FAV DEF ITS GONNA BE SOMETHING NICE TO LOOK BACK ON

Wait. Olivia for FOR FUCKS SAKE OLIVIA- SHE NEEDS TO REST LIKE GOD OLIVIA YOU NEED TO REST YOU GOT AN UNBORN BABY INSIDE OF YOU RRST UP

EXACTLY POLLY EXACTLY FOR GODS SAKE EXACTLY

Waiy. WAIT WRLL???? A GOLD DUST WELL OR????? I SWEAR TO GOD IF NORTH PULLED A BATMAN HIDEOUT RN

Damn. Okay right- I mean I do have some theories on if Merry did yknow yeah mother Olivia but good gosh THATS CALLED DENIAL.

Ay AY AY AY POLLY DONT NONONONONONOO POLLY I SWEAR NO NO NO

Ay WAIT TERURBLERJHSJAIAOA THEORY CONFIRMED YES

Theory confirmation counter: 2

WE WIN THESE THINGS WOOOOOOOO OKAY WE GOT CONFIRMATION YES

Wait IM SORRY GOLD DUST TORCHES????? NO WAY THATS SO AOFJFIFI THATS SO FITTING????

Oh so thats how you spell mediavael.

Woah. WOAH WOAH WOAH AY WAIT WAIT PAUSE LET ME GET INTO THIS UNIVERSE RQ RQ- NO FUCKING WAY. HOW MUCH FREE TIME DID THIS MAN HAVE GOOD GOSH???????

No way NORTH HE WAIY. WAIT EIAT HE. ALL THESE ENGINES GOOD GOSH. HUNDREDS?????

Holy God ROOSTER ROOATAKAOAOAOSKDJX OHFNAUAPAOAOAOAOADB F HEDID HE DID REVIVE ROOSTER HE DID AAAAJFHAKAOAOOAHDDB

Theory Confirmed counter: 3

Im sorry A V2???????? AY AY. THAT MEANS WAIT AAYAYYSDJCJFOOWIS LETS GO WE GOT ANOYHER V2 GUYS LETS GOOOOAHAJAOOADBX VOSKAOAKAKA

ColdthTSHRKAISVD

OHMDYAIAOAGAAGHAHDC ITS COLDSTREAMER YALL ITS COLDATEAMRHHRKAJAHAAAAAAA

ITS HER LET DGO

Wait POLLY NO EAIT POLLY- WHAT ON RARTH IS GOING ON????? WHAT WAIG WIA YSILVER SOULSBWOSUGOAJAAAAAAAA

AILVER SOULS THERES SILVER SOULS NO WYA WAIT. GOD WAIY WAIT LEATHER BOUND BOOKS COULD ONE OF THEM BE NORTHS JOURNAL?????

Merry. MERRY HAMPFON. MERRY WAIT NO NO WAIT WYYEHS YES RIGHT MERRY. Okay I swear SOMETHING HAPPENED BETWEEN THE GDCS AND MERRY I SWEAR TO FUCK SOMETHING HAPPENED

Wait. That eas Merry's engine, and Polly's soul started to react to it like it had black smoke or something. SOMETHING FUCKING HAPPENED-

Ojay my eyes may be blurry BUT GOD IM YEAH ITS THEORY TIME GUYS. Ill make sure to note down this chapter, def a big big bitch to uncover lore wise. And I thought my revival theory would be bigger than the Mother Merry theory, BUT I WAS WRONG

Ay GREAT WESTERNS ITS THE WRSTERNS

AWIRJFHFHD HAMILTON MISSED MALLARD- Okay look I knew she had a friendship with Mallard to a certain level BUT I NEVER KNEW THEY WERE THIS CLOSE LIKE BEST FRIENDS IN A WAY

AAASGDHHFHDGAHAHHAHDVC WE GOT A NEW DUO YOU LOT SO CHIN UP FOR FLUFF

Exactly EXACTLY WE DONT TOLERATE MAYFLOWER HATE IN THIS HOUSEHOLD

TARGET THE HATE TO MS PARSONS NLANG /DEJK

If Im being quite honest Im just I CAN HEAR MY HEART POUNDING. EVEN WITH MUSIC ON I LITERALLY CAN HEAR IT CRYSTAL CLEARLY- GOD THIS CHAOTER WAS. WAS CERTAINLY A WAKR UP CALL DEF.

But all in all A GREAT READ YET AGAIN!! Gosh Im yeah I GUESS I HAVE PLANS FOR THE WEEKEND NOW LMAOSIDHDB

[nightmaretist]

TIMING: Recent PARTIES: Owen @apaininyourneck & Inge @nightmaretist LOCATION: The Wor Hole SUMMARY: Owen and Inge meet officially, in real life, and chat as the hunter serves the mare drinks. Things get ... heated. CONTENT WARNINGS: Wrspice (suggestive)

Her return to the Wormhole (the Wor hole tonight) was a matter of principle. It wasn’t even a nice bar, hardly a place that she couldn’t live without — but she would not let some Cortez hunter keep her from a place she wanted to go to. This, however, didn’t mean that Ingeborg hadn’t used the astral to her advantage to have a peek into the bar after sundown, to try and see whether Emilio Cortez was drinking his stupid sadness away.

Coast clear. So she entered, taking off the hat that kept her eyes shielded in the darkness of the street. There might be a glint of red in her eyes in the wrong light, but generally a bar like this offered just enough light for her not to worry about such a thing. And even so, what did it matter? Life was boring without a little thrill.

Settling at the bar, Inge let her eyes pass through the crowd. Perhaps she’d go home with one of the patrons, have a glorious night in their bed only to feast on their sleeping mind once they’d succumbed to their sleepiness. Maybe she’d just drink and indulge in fanciful conversation. Lips spread at the sight of the barkeep, and once she’d caught his attention she leaned forward ever so slightly, “Hiya! What draft beers do you have? Any seasonal ones worth my time?”

—

It was a night of phone scrolling, mind numbing enough that not even the thought of ‘at least I’m getting paid for this’ was doing its job of clutching onto his last thread of sanity. Owen barely even glanced up when the door swung open, finishing off a text before finally raising his head. It hadn’t registered at first, overpowered by the sheer amount of annoyance currently filling his brain but sure enough, there it was. Faint, much too faint for a vampire, but the hairs on the back of his neck were definitely raised. What kind are you, then… 

Sidling closer to the new customer, letting his eyes roam for a beat despite the crawling sensation across his skin - he was a slayer but he wasn’t blind - Owen mirrored her smile. “Ah, woman of taste. Can’t say we have the best selection but…” In a rare display of decent customer service, Owen grabbed a small cup and filled it with a taste of one of the draft beers. “Red ale. Not Scandinavian but decent enough.” Passing the cup over, he braced his hands against the bar, watching her curiously. 

—

At his comment all she could do was smile and lift her shoulder, as if being a woman of taste was something that had just happened to her — rather than it being completely in her control. “Well no, you’re certainly not the Short & Stout, but they lack your …” Inge’s eyes moved around the somewhat-empty dive bar. “... ambiance.” There was something to be said about dingy bars, of course, and she could say it all if she wished to. It seemed a bit much to get into it all before she even had her drink, though.

Inge hummed in appreciation as the other poured her a sample and she downed the sip, nodding in approval. “Good. Very much. Not Scandinavian though, you’re right. Let me guess … Irish?” She pushed the cup towards him, wondering how many samples he’d let her try. “Do you have anything more summer-y, though? It’s nice, but a bit dark for the season if you ask me.” This was the time for blondes and weizens, after all. Even if the red ale had been nice.

—

Ambiance. Owen scoffed in amusement. That was one word for it. They got all sorts here but this woman should have looked out of place. He knew better, of course - the clientele was far from always being human and she was no exception. Looking for an easy victim, perhaps? Someone stumbling home drunk and alone, a common sight here. Not many people came here to drink with friends so vulnerability was definitely a pro for an undead looking for a meal. This train of thought was in no way visible on the slayer’s face, which still carried a faint smile and unreadable gleam in his eyes. 

“German,” he corrected, pushing the glass to the side and cocking his head at her statement. “Not sure that any beer is going to make you feel light and summer-y in this town.” Still, Owen moved back for the taps, allowing for one more glass of tasting which was all his patience would afford. A wheat beer, not seasonal and nothing special, really, but the best she would get with a wish as vague as ‘summery’. “It’s this or white wine, darling.”

—

“Hm. You should get a good Weizen, if you’re gonna do German in summer,” she said, perhaps having too high expectations for a place like this. Still, he had offered a red ale, which insinuated they were capable of making somewhat solid choices when it came to beer. “And come, that undermines the power a good beer can have at the right time. Though maybe I should be sitting somewhere outside, in the sun, to feel exactly that.” In here it was dark and musty, but Inge didn’t quite mind.

She took the glass and a sip, nodding appreciatively this time. “Yeah, give me a full glass of that. You can keep your white wine, darling.” Her tone was saccharine, yet annoyed. It was an annoying notion, after all — how archaic, to equate her with wine, rather than beer. Hendrik had hated it when she’d drank beer, considered it his much like he did with anything. She pushed the small glass towards the barkeep, “Quiet night, then?”

—-

At her casual suggestion, Owen pursed his lips and nodded, the gesture somehow laced with sarcasm. “Yeah, let me pass that on to my boss so he can tell me to shove the suggestion up my ass.” The words were delivered dryly, the faintest hint of a grin visible through the facade. 

Putting away the small cup, he poured her a glass, giving a small shrug. Her annoyance was obvious but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. Especially since he’d suggested the wine because of her vague request and not just because she wore a dress. But Owen could push that button if it really bothered her. “Not my fault that you look like a white wine drinker. Glad you’re not, though. They always have the most obnoxious laughs.” Passing her the beer, Owen went on to fill up a smaller glass for himself, letting out a pleased sigh once he’d taken the first sip. 

“Not so much quiet as dead.” Amused at his own choice of words, skin still prickling with discomfort at the woman’s presence, Owen offered her a hand. “Which is why I’m happy for some half-decent company. Owen.”

—

She let out a sound of amusement at his sarcasm, his delivery quite sharp and on-point. “That’s the key to a good workplace relationship. Regularly shoving things up the arse of your coworkers.” She said it with a light air, as if this was a completely true statement. Inge didn’t interact much with her own superiors at work.

Inge didn’t think she was someone who looked like she just drank white wine. She drank any kind of alcohol (barring anything anise-flavored, thank you very much), after all. “Everyone can look like a white-wine drinker in the right light. It’s good with fish.” She paused. “Which I don’t eat, so. Beer it is.” Besides, this hardly wasn’t the place to entertain herself with a glass of wine. She had some standards, and this place wasn’t going to meet them wine-wise.

She took the beer as well as a hefty sip, then extended her hand. “I don’t know much about dead, though I wouldn’t say it’s quiet,” she said, shaking his hand. “Ah, I believe we've spoken online. Owen, the lazy bully.” Lips spread into a smirk. “Ingeborg.”

—

“Yes, I truly have found that to be the case,” he said, matching her casual tone but unable to keep the mischievous glint from his eyes. “Thank god there’s no HR at this place, huh?”

She had jokes too, amused by the comment on death, not knowing that the entendre was indeed not lost on Owen. God, it felt good to have the upper hand, to hold information unbeknownst to the other. Would he tell her at some point? Force a confession from her like he’d done with the ranch-Zombie? Maybe she’d admit it willingly with some gentle encouragement and no need for Owen to reveal his cards in return. 

Distracted for a moment by her next words, Owen’s grin matched the quirk of her lips. “The crazy jewelry lady,” he replied in greeting, hand lingering in her cold one for a moment longer before he pulled it back. “Lucky me that I get to judge first hand whether you really are interesting.” Inge was definitely interesting, but probably not in the way she wanted to be right at this very moment.

—

There certainly was HR at the university, but Inge knew better than to let them in on the fact that she’d gotten close to a few colleagues. “What, no HR at the Wor hole? I’m shocked. This place screams bureaucracy.”  

He had been funny online, and he was funny now. She liked people who offered something of a verbal (or written, in the case of online) challenge, who weren’t afraid to push buttons and let their own be pressed in return. A back-and-forth, a cheeky grin and a jest to try and get under the other’s skin while secretly hoping the other would get under yours in return. Inge turned her head, as if offended.

“Crazy is such an outdated term, Owen, you really ought to know better than to call an expressive woman such a thing.”  The word could sting, though it hardly did in this case. Inge took a long sip from her glass, turning slightly in her seat to lean against the bar with her side. “And, what is the verdict thus far? I’m still trying to figure you out.” As far as bartenders went, he was quite interesting — but surely his snipes and knowledge of beer wasn’t all there was to him.

—

“We’d all be fired if anyone cared about the bartenders’ attitudes. Especially towards each other. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there’s a lot of assholes that work here.” Taking another sip from his drink, realizing that it was definitely another thing that would have been banned if this workplace had any sort of standard. Not that Owen would have stuck around if it did. The second they’d bring in a blender for daiquiris, he’d be out of here. 

Scoffing at her fake offense, Owen simply leaned in closer, still taller than Inge despite her being seated on the high bar stool. “I rarely know better,” he replied simply, using the lack of eye contact to try and catch a glimpse of anything unusual in her eyes. He thought back to the undead woman from back in the caves and her red eyes, similar to vampires yet different. Whether it was involuntary or not, he couldn’t remember. It would be an interesting experiment to check on the lack of sensation but stabbing her hand now was bound to draw attention. 

“Jury’s still out,” he admitted honestly. “Kinda stuck between two or… hmm, three options for verdicts.” Pushing himself away from the bar, Owen spread his arms, smiling. “I’m an open book.”

—

She pulled down the corners of her lips, shook her head, “Nah, hadn’t noticed. You’re actually the first asshole-bartender I’ve come across here,” she quipped, and though it was a lie it was spoken with such ease that it might as well have been true. Inge didn’t mind asshole bartenders, most days, especially not in dive bars. You got what you came for, right? 

He was tall, which was a point in his favor, and she decided not to mind that he loomed over her. Inge looked at him, taking in those expressive eyes and the swoop of his hair, and she decided she was glad to have ventured into the bar once more. It was proving to be an interesting corner of town, after all, even if a Cortez sometimes showed his face. “It seems that way.”

Taking a sip from her drink, she chuckled at his dramatics, “Sure you are.” No one was an open book, that much she believed. Inge cocked her head to the side tutting her lips in thought. “I would hope there’s more to you than meets the eye. Which isn’t to say it isn’t interesting but …” She shrugged. “Come, there must be more to you than being a tall, bartending Scandinavian. Ask me a question and I’ll answer honestly, but I’ll ask you one in return.”

—

Owen couldn’t have asked for a better distraction this evening. He would have settled for interesting, snarky and pretty but undead was like the cherry on top. His focus was still very much on the vampire scum of this town but it was clearly time to learn more, not just when it came to other undead. It was a decent enough place to start, though. 

Inge’s sarcasm wasn’t veiled in the slightest and yes, Owen was obviously the farthest thing from an open book - he lived his life loudly and unapologetically but it was still all superficial. There was no need to hide anything in particular when everything that mattered was too deep for even him to reach. A good thing, since his attitude almost always invited curiosity. Case and point, Inge had started her process of digging. Good, a perfect opportunity for him to do some digging as well. 

“You forgot devilishly handsome but… deal.” Arms crossing, Owen leaned fully back, finally leaving the woman’s personal space; for now. “Don’t think I’ve ever played truth or dare without the dare part,” he mused as cogs turned, trying to find a question that balanced the line of pushy without giving away his real agenda. “Worst nightmare you’ve ever had?” he finally asked, green eyes glinting slightly. 

—

Whether his confidence was performance or true, Inge didn’t know. She found she didn’t care much: it was entertaining to speak with someone so self-assured, so seemingly convinced of his own handsomeness. In all fairness, he was handsome, and not just because of his height. She wouldn’t so readily reveal her hand and attraction to that bone structure, though.

“Did I?” She feigned confusion, naivete, and then she chuckled. “We could introduce dares if you’d want, at some point.” There was a small beat as he posed the question, a small flicker of something washing over her face. Inge wasn’t sure whether this was strange coincidence or something more malicious, something more potentially dangerous. Knowing this town, she was considering it was the latter.

She considered the other, thought about the Cortez she’d seen in this very bar. Thought about Rhett. Inge needed to get out of here. Even if this was nothing, the feeling of unease was unwelcome. “I don’t really dream,” she answered truthfully, “But the worst I ever dreamed must have been a flock of birds eating me alive.” That was a lie. But it was the best meal she’d recently had. “My turn.” She threw caution into the wind. “Have you ever killed someone?”

—

Inge was disarmingly charming for an undead creature and Owen was at least grateful that she wasn’t a bloodsucker. That would have been a really cruel twist of fate. At least this way he could allow himself to have a little fun. Like, for example, getting to enjoy the way her face dropped ever so slightly - easily overlooked, if he hadn’t been looking for exactly that. His own expression barely changed, maybe growing a little bit more amused if anything. 

Kudos to Inge, she didn’t make an instant run for it. Her playfulness was dampened, though, which was a shame. Only in spirit though, it seemed, as she shot back a question of her own. Playful was perhaps the wrong word for it, confrontational was better - either was fine, Owen was game. “Scary,” he mused sarcastically, dragging out the silence before finally answering her questions, eyes intently locked on her. “I’ve been known to be a little aggressive, sure.” A vague answer at best but the point would definitely come across. 

Before his new distraction for the night would take this new information as a sign to leave, Owen continued. “Not feeling aggressive at the moment though, no worries. You’re not my preferred type for that.” Gently pushing her glass across the bar to encourage the now-confirmed mare, he smiled. “My turn again, I guess. How long have you been on your current diet?”

—

His sarcasm was possibly even less tolerable than her suspicions about his hunter nature and Inge made something of a face at the response. She’d like to see how he’d respond having his flesh ripped from his body by bird beaks, eyes pecked out so he no longer had his sight to tell him what was happening — just his sense of touch and sound. But she wasn’t going to argue him on it, as that would hurt her pride a little too much.

Besides, what he said next was much more interesting. So here they were, both confirming what they were without really, explicitly saying it — he had to be some kind of slayer, but at least not the kind that specialized in mares. Hardly a comfort. The Cortezes were vampire-focused, and yet she bore a scar that Elena Cortez had put there. Rhett hadn’t even seemed like a slayer, and yet.

“I don’t mind a little aggression from time to time,” she said, though it was more innuendo than threat. Inge finished her glass, pushed it back towards him and tapped on the rim to wordlessly ask for a refill. “Close to half a century now.” It was honest and true. She could have lied, told him she was older than she was like she had with Parker. “What is your preferred type?” 

—

The downside of being able to sense who belonged to the group of things deserving only of pain and death, was the odds of missing out on conversations like this. Should have been a good thing, really, since the last time Owen had indulged in a suggestive conversation with something pulseless, it had done a decent attempt at ruining his whole life. Something he should have learned from, should be pushing him to dig information from this mare to track her down later but… 

“A woman of taste, then.” He smirked, refilling her glass but gaze never straying from her. His skin, previously rippling with that faint discomfort, was starting to get nicely muted in lieu of curiosity and definitely a bit of recklessness. She wasn’t past the line of a century, which probably explained why Inge wasn’t completely insufferable - the older fuckers always had this air of grandiose around them, which made them so much more fun to take out. “Sad to say we don’t have a discount for the elderly,” he sighed, bringing back a full glass for her before polishing off his own. 

“I’m usually not too picky but it depends on the mood. Some nights I like them a bit rough but it’s always a nice change of pace to bring back a more innocent one who’ll let you lead- Oh, you meant that sort of type,” Owen cut himself off, the mock innocence audible as he corrected himself, eyes glinting. “Let’s just say I’m not a Twilight fan. Been known to disapprove of the others, if they give me reason to.”

—

This was uncharted territory. Inge didn’t often engage in conversation with hunters, after all, especially not slayers. When she did, it was usually about the way they were going to kill her or how she deserved to permanently die or how poor innocent people didn’t deserve nightmares — boring, really, if it wasn’t for the weapons they usually wielded. This was hardly like that: this was comparable to many of the conversations she had in bars with others. Suggestive, a little bit exciting.

She hummed appreciatively as he did his job and filled her glass, muttering a soft, “Good boy,” with an impish look on her face. Whether she was joking or not, she left up to interpretation. She chuckled. “Oh, I don’t want one. I like to think I don’t quite look my age.” How dreadful it would be, if she did actually look like she was nearing 80. No thank you.

Inge rested her head on one of her hands as the other spoke, lips curled up in a smirk. “Ah, so you usually prefer being led, I see.” That would be interesting, wouldn’t it? To hold dominance over a hunter, even in a different context. She chuckled, waving her free hand. “Don’t worry, I’m interested in both. And then I’ll just hope I’m not going to give you reason to. I’m not in the mood for that kind of fight.”

—

After an evening threatening death by boredom and honestly, the last few nights not being much better, Owen was so easily tantalized by this particular kind of excitement. The forbidden one, where whatever part of his brain that could be donned ‘reason’ was begging him to listen. He rarely did - ignoring it was the fun part. “It’s a nice change of pace seeing as I usually dominate every situation I’m in but… takes a special kind of person for the job.” Inge definitely seemed interested and not in a way that implied she was just excited for a chance to stab him afterwards. 

He was leaning on the bar again, bringing his face closer to hers than he had all evening, eyes shining with mischief and bad decisions. “What are you in the mood-”  Off to the side, someone obnoxiously cleared their throat and Owen had half a mind to throw a glass at their face, knowing it would shatter on impact and cause permanent damage. Instead, his annoyed gaze turned to the impatient customer, a middle aged man who was frowning deeply. 

Pushing himself to stand, Owen’s hands moved to rest on his hips, staring down the customer until his eyes averted. Yeah, that’s what he thought. “I’m off in half an hour or so,” he told Inge, turning his attention back to the mare with a shiver of excitement. “Stick around?” Without waiting for an answer, Owen moved to serve the impatient drunkard, skin now tingling with the presence of an undead and the promise of something bad. 

—

She should check herself, now. Glance at herself in the rusting mirror behind the bar and tell herself that she was wiser than this, more experienced than this — better than falling for the exciting prospect of continuing this dance with a hunter. Not just a hunter, but a slayer. But there was a thrill running through her too at the prospect of having the upper hand over the other, of making this dynamic not just one that could lead into violence but into something else. 

“I could –” Her finish remained unfinished by the intrusive customer, making it obvious that if they wanted to go further with this, they’d need to find a more private place. It seemed Owen thought the same. Inge contemplated this for a moment as he turned to his rude customer, eyes trailing over the curve of his shoulder as he served him. She was, at times, a simple woman. Human in the way she listened to the song of desire.

Life on the earthly plane could prove boring and depressing, and thus risk had to be found, things to thrill her. There wasn’t much she hadn’t done yet, but entangle herself with a hunter? That would be a first. And so she waited for Owen to be done with his shift, and walked into the night with him. 

[yeniasworld]

They called it stupid, but honey, I call it smart. Why? Baby, what even is paranoia? A glitch? A chemical slip-up? I used to think it was dumb, pointless, but after walking through the pits of depression and flirting with near-death, I see how messed up it all is. Like, when did my brain start flipping the script, making me think everyone’s out to get me, or that the world is secretly plotting against me? Please, like anyone’s got that much time on their hands. Everyone’s too busy clutching onto the last thread of sanity they’ve got. They ain’t worried about me or what I’m doing, they’re trying not to end up lost like I was.

I get why people ghosted me, dipped out when I lost it. They were holding onto their fragile little piece of peace, scared that being around me might make them snap too. But real talk? It’s deeper than that. My intuition—oh yeah, that inner knowing—had me saying I was fine when I wasn’t, just so I wouldn’t rock the boat. And baby, that paranoia? It wasn’t me going mad. Nah, it was my mind trying to protect me, pulling me so high up that my brain was in overdrive, racing to keep me safe from all the chaos inside.

People think it’s crazy, but this is just part of the journey, right? We’re like fallen leaves in autumn, getting pushed and pulled by forces we don’t even understand, just to become the next greatest in whatever world we step into. So yeah, my brain was paranoid, and I was out here searching for answers anywhere I could get ‘em. ‘Cause when you’re floating through the unknown, with no structure, no rules, only vibes—you’re just trying to survive.

And now? Now that I’ve been through the fire, back from isolation and transformation—babe, I’m back at like 99%. But let me tell you, the comeback’s harder than the fall. Instead of taking years to get right, I had to rebuild myself quick, like a phoenix with some flair. The experiences? They patched up all the broken bits, replaced what was lost. So here I am, back to “normal” with my glow-up talents and new vibe, ready to show the world what’s good.

Now it’s time to reflect, to let all those lessons soak in. And let’s be clear, my social media? It’s not for you, darling, it’s for me—my journal, my story, my truth. But if you wanna peep, be my guest. Anyway, moving forward, we’re just getting started. Catch me later ✌️

[mochikeiji]

Gojo Satoru

↠ Pairing: Gojou Satoru x F!Reader

↠ Warning: bby gojo having heavy thoughts and sadness after everything. (pls hug) angst to fluff.

↠ a/n: ironically, his name is the title for this xD also thank you so much for the love from my recent works o(^▽^)o♡ have my love too!

↬ Word Count: 1.9k

Everyone has their beginnings. While some were blessed to start out life with good fortune and the right path, there were some who struggled through their way in living. For Gojo? He didn't really care. Not when he was already being worshipped for being born in this world, not when as a child he had barely lifted a finger before his life was already planned out for him. It was as if he was simply taking the red carpet to luxury. He already has everything. Truly, he claimed, he was indeed the honored one.

He wasn't one to be wary of his own feelings. What was there to be thought about if he doesn't know what are these stuff running through his head? Not that he should give a single mind to it. 

But as he sat down at the tub of his bathroom— tweezers between his fingers, one at a time he plucks out the small shards of glass that had dug themselves onto his skin from the previous mission he was sent on solo, he started to wonder why he was staring blankly at the crimson liquid trailing down his damaged skin. Why did he felt so empty?

Maybe if Shoko were around to patch him up, he would've have had someone to pester for the day. Maybe he wouldn't have gone home to the lonesome apartment he owns, hissing at the pain from each shard taken out of his body.

Pain

That was strange. He never experienced that. Not even when he's in battle with the strongest forms of curses. No matter how many gashes of wounds he's collected, they always heal themselves quickly. It was unfamiliar that it began to frustrate him. He doesn't like it. Not one bit. It hurts. It hurts so much, yet why was there still something making his heart clench?

Loneliness. Abandonment. Broken.

Gojo was a fool for losing the only person that has come close to understanding him. If only he understood what Geto was going through; if he knew what the hell were all those troubles and emotions were maybe he would've still had his only best friend here with him. But no. It slowly came crashing down on Gojo's eyes that though he was the honored one,

He was the lost one.

A broken soul being held by strings as he was only guided to follow along the path that was planned out for him, but never what he planned for himself.

Why was he remembering all of these now? It had been years after the downfall. He should've moved on from it, be the usual cherry top, annoying idiot he was to his students and colleagues. God, he hates this. Falling, falling, falling.

Only the weak fall

Was a statement drilled into his system right from the start. The never ending worship that has earned him the title of being the "strongest" was what he kept pursuing. Believing.

Was the Gojo Satoru at his weakest point?

"Fuck." the unusually large shard of glass falls on the tiled floor, removed from the left side of his chest. Near to the scar that trails from the base of his throat and down to his navel; the reminder of why he shouldn't be left vulnerable at any cost. The hideous flaw that will forever be marked on his body, the one he desperately hides behind those prideful remarks and grinning faces. It saddens him, it hurts him, it angers him. It makes himself lose his own sanity.

The stinging started to kick in on his chest, no longer can he tell if it was from the wound or the clenching of his heart. He was strong, he was suppose and always will be strong. "Why?" the tub cracks from his grip. His free hand coming up to his eyes, eyes that people loved enough to fall in a trance— enemies crumbling and begging for mercy upon them.

Gojo felt ashamed.

Shameful. He grits his teeth hard when the small trickle of the uncharacteristic tear falls from the heavenly eye. It falls down to the porcelain surface, mixing with the trail of blood that was slowly draining down, "Why?" he finally looks down at the fatal wound, attempting to stop the bleeding with his bare hands pushing his chest. The blood smearing all over his upper body, shading the past scar that it made it look like it was there again.

"Why?"

Gojo speaks a little louder, sweating profusely as the dam inside him broke. Like an endless waterfall it was the tears fall. It made him sick. This was all not him. This wasn't the known shaman in the jujutsu world. This wasn't the boy raised from the family of the strongest. This wasn't the strongest.

"Stop."

This wasn't any of him.

"Make it stop."

Then who was he?

"Please, make it stop."

"Satoru?"

Entire body freezing. It was the first time he felt fear rushing through his veins; the fear of being seen like this. It wasn't because he didn't trust you. Good gracious, you were the last and only person Gojo ever holds onto after the years being glued together by faith and his attempts of flirting. No, he didn't want you to see this unknown person that was sitting in the bathroom of your shared apartment. Right, he forgot he was living with you.

Huh, he forgot. You were there.

There knelt down to his level, wide eyes meeting the now visible broken ones that was glossy with tears. With careful movements you raised an arm to eye level, pleading silently for permission to touch him. And for the time, Gojo was actually wary. He's faced a lot in the years spent as a sorcerer, as the strongest. Never the weakest. So when your lips curled into the same smile you'd give him during your moments of vulnerability. The cute, little curve you give when you couldn't help but just admire him or when you're about to utter out his 3 favorite words, he finds himself leaning forward to rest his cheek against the warmth of your palm. He allows the pestering tears to fall omly to be caught with your thumbs, shooing them away from his features.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

When your hand pulls away for a short moment, Gojo silently whines at the lost of contact. The tightness in his chest coming back. The feeling of abandonment crosses his head for a second before you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, holding up the tweezers he had dropped a while ago, "I'm here now."

I'm here now

That was his line. His line for when there was someone in need of help. The line that shimmers hope on the darkest moments of anyone's life. The line of the strongest. The ones who were only truly honored of saying.

Hope. It had a different form today. One that was right in front of him, plucking out every leftover shard on his body with gentleness he never got to witness as a child. The soft cooes and from time to time kisses on his scalp made his senses more focused on there rather than the stinging sensations running through his skin. Exactly how people react when there is hope.

And where there is hope,

"I love you, Satoru."

There is love.

Warm water from the shower cap started pouring down to his tensed muscles, washing out the combined dirt and blood away from him, cleansing his own form of curses that has shaken up his being. When did you finish patching him up? And why wasn't it as painful as it was when he did it?

He watches you move the small container that reeked of the scent of his blood and that inflicted his injuries far from his sight. Immediately, Gojo felt empty once more and was about to call you when you came back holding fresh towels on your hands. "Do you want me to join you?" he couldn't say yes faster than ever, almost as if he was relieved when you offered.

When you had finally stripped yourself off of your clothes and settled in between his long legs, there was nothing but the sound of the shower on echoing in the room with the two of you just staring back to one another.

Too good to be true, you were.

Gojo wanted to speak. Wanted to tell you how thankful he is that you were here to pull him away. To save his life, but all he could do was stare back into the void that of before. He sees the way your hands map around his torso in attempt to rinse him completely. Coming in contact with the old and new scar, softly tracing them as you felt his eyes wonder to yours. There was no sign of disappointment nor a hint of harm or disgust. Only something he never understood that it made him sob unexpectedly, startling you that left you pulling him into your embrace which he latches his face onto your neck and arms surrounding your body whole.

He cries.

All the frustration of not knowing whatever was happening, the mistakes he wishes to correct and the past he hoped to save along with the title he swore to maintain. It all falls on the smaller body he treasures in his arms at this very moment. He clutches, he palms, he roams. Whatever he can do just so he can fully grasp the idea that someone was there. You were there, and he wasn't alone anymore.

"I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough."

It would shock the world and break the hearts of many to hear these very words uttered from the mouth of the honored one. And Gojo wishes that everyone could hear it. That it would somehow reach the skies to wherever his best friend was too. To you, the person he loved the most. He was sorry that he wasn't the Gojo Satoru in your eyes.

"No, Toru. No." you push him back gently only to pull him in for a soft kiss, "I don't need you to always be the strongest. Let alone apologize for being vulnerable." he listens as he nuzzles against the palms meeting his face. The ones that held him together when he was falling apart.

His lips wobbled a bit when you land kisses on his scars, "These may not have been the good ones in your life, but these do not make you for who you are, Satoru." he hums in content when you rub down to his chest soothingly, the feeling that you has him yearning for more. Needing for more, "It's okay to be lost, and it's okay to be weak. But it'll never define you."

"I need you to be just you."

You pull him down, letting him cry all his heart out to your naked chest. He let's you have your way to him. The emotions, words, and treatment. All so unfamiliar. And he finds himself wanting. Needing more.

All his life he thought he had it all.

But never in his life has he lived it.

"What am I, (Y/n)?"

Cooing softly as the small of his voice. Like the child who never got to experience what love was. The child raised to already has to burden such responsibilities and stand. Gojo can feel himself breathe in relief as he whispers an "i love you" with a small kiss on your skin when you uttered out the words that has set his locked up self free. Free from the strings that's been taking over. The cage he was kept from all of his living.

The curse of his gift

And being honored of what he truly deserves.

"You're Gojo Satoru."

Just Gojo Satoru.

© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)

[kpopjust4u]

Something about you.

Post Date: 22nd May 2022 Content: Fluff - ATEEZ Wooyoung x Reader WC: 1775 TW?: Tooth rotting stuff... please he’s so cute Request?: Yes

Masterlist                                    Prompt list

Prompt list: 32 - “What did you just say?” 54 - “You look amazing” 141 - “I tried to play it cool”

“Psst... Y/N... PSST” Wooyoung pokes your back from his desk behind you, you snap your head to turn around at your classclown classmate, “What?” you try to reply in a calm manner. He’s already annoyed you enough with the constant giggling and jokes he’s made to the teacher, you were losing all sanity but you’ve known him since you were children. You weren’t close by any means but he’s that friend who you grow up in school with and now you’re in your last year of college together, you were ready to leave his antics behind.

With a grin on his face, he tries to stuffle laughter as he pushes his book across the desk, “Do my work for me? I don’t know the answer~” he whines playfully, as you roll your eyes, writing down the answers on a spare piece of paper, scrumpling it up into a ball then throwing it at his head. You can hear his little giggle under his breath as he sighs, unravelling the paper, “Thank you, best friend~” he whispers in a singing tone. You couldn’t wait to get out of class, to have piece when you get home but that was a short-lived hope and dream.

Music blasts from your earphones fills your ears as you enjoy your own space, walking out of the school and into the main street, ready for the afternoon to be spent by yourself, but as you get ready to cross the lights, you feel a tap on your shoulder. By no suprise, you come face-to-face with Wooyoung again, clutching onto the straps of his backpack, trying to look cool, as he stands there sassily, a leg out, grinning at you. “What do you want?” you scoff, not wanting to pause your music and take a earphone out, but you’re too polite not to. 

He shrugs, grin basically plastered on his face, though when you attempt to walk away, he runs in front of you, blocking your pathway as he steps to either side to stop you walking away from him. “What?” he bite, but regret it when his smile turns into a small lip curl, “I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out?” he says softly, you want to shake your head and tell him no but he’s now standing there pouting like a little baby. “Sure, what time do you want to meet up later?” you say, caving into him. When he was cute and soft like this, you couldn’t resist him. His grin returns as he excitedly squeals, “7pm, please? I’ll meet you here!” within seconds, he’s running home, excitedly screaming on his way.

- Time Skip - 

Wooyoung stands there anxiously outside the school. He acts so confident in front of everyone but when he’s alone, he’s awkward and shy. He’s so scared that he’s going to ruin the evening by doing something he can’t take back. It was just going ot be the both of you and he can’t help but fall over heels for you everytime he sees you. He wanted to ask you out for months, but he can’t even think about asking you without being weird and try make a joke about something else.

He’s in the middle of daydreaming when you show up, tapping him lightly to wake him up, “Earth to Woo~” you tease, as he jumps, a little scoff leaving his mouth, “Don’t scare me like that” he whines. You couldn’t help but laugh at him which he totally took offence to, folding his arms and walks away, making you follow him. “Woo, don’t be like that you silly goose” you tease even more, recieving a side eye and pout, which instantly turned into a smirk, he couldn’t help himself one bit. You were irristable to him. He comes to a stop to let you catch up to him before putting an arm around you, over your shoulders. You gave him a stupid look, rolling your shoulders so he would remove his arm, then tries to use your hands to push him off but he just pulled you in tighter. You gave up, realising that it was either his way or you wouldn’t hear the end of it, of you “being mean to him”. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks all of a sudden, you instantly take the hint that he was going to get food whether you wanted to or not, “Sure, I could eat,” you reply as his signature grin plasters his face once again. 

It took long enough for you to decide where to go to eat, since you spent a good 20 minutes arguing what food was better than what. He teased you for anything you said that he didn’t agree with. Luckily you found somewhere where you both could eat happily as he attempts to be a gentleman, pulling out a chair for you to sit on but couldn’t resist the urge to sit the seat himself. “What?” he asks innocently, as you rolls your eyes at him, “Nothing, just order me food, will you?” you said, half jokingly. He mockingly laughed as he pushes his phone to you, letting you write your order in on his notes. 

A small smile appears on his face when he sees your order, with your name next to it, ‘Y/N’s order <3′. He couldn’t help but huff happily, getting up to order your food. Whilst he was distracted you took his seat, as you patiently waited for him to return. The time it took for his to do so, it had you thinking about why he invited you out specifically, what did it mean? And why were you actually enjoying company, were you realising that you may have a crush on him? This left you puzzled. 

“How dare you!” you heard him moan playfully behind you, as you broke into laughter, turning around to grab your food off him, put he pulls it away quickly before you could grab it. Now you were the one pouting at him, and he found himself out-played by his own trick. How could he not give in, your pout was too cute for him to even contain himself, “Fine, only because you look amazing, and cute~” he lets out, eyes widening at the realisation he actually said that out loud, audibly panicking. “What did you just say?” you scoff, almost choking on your drink, wide eyed at him as he sits down, trying to ignore eye-contact with you and trying to change the subject, “I hope you like what you’ve ordered!” he sings, but you grab his hand unintentionally, “Woo, it’s okay, what did you say?” you asked him to repeat as a bright red blush appears on his cheeks. 

Though he shakes his head, “I said you smell~” he replies, internally screaming at his himself. You decide to leave it there, not wanting to pry, but you heard him clear as day, but you wanted to hear it again. Something in what he said and the way he said it gave you butterflies. You struggled to eat your food whilst it ran through your head, making you turn red yourself. 

- Time Skip - 

After eating, you decide it was best to let Wooyoung walk you home, you knew you’d have no choice or say anyway so it was best just to say yes to him. Plus you wanted to spend that little extra time you had with him alone. As your feet away from your house, you let curiousity get the best of you as you had to ask him, “What was earlier about, Woo?”, his eyes widen at the question as he laughs, shrugging his shoulders, playing it off as nothing.

“Woo please?”, you beg, as he sighs, rolling his eyes playfully as he knew if he didn’t you’d pout and he will not let you out-pout him again, “I have a crush on you... okay? That’s why I always bug you in class, and maybe why I tried to play it cool today. I can’t stop thinking about you!” he said so fast that you struggled to keep him, only so he could get it out without having to hear himself confess longer than he needed to. 

Though you managed to catch onto what he said, standing there with your cheeks redder than the lipstick you could’ve put on today. You weren’t sure how to respond, you weren’t sure how you felt yourself but you knew that the way he talks to you about how he feels, became addictive. “Say that again please?” you ask sweetly, giving him the big eyes. He scoffs, not believing that you’re actually asking him to repeat himself, “Why~” he whines in a bratty way, getting all embarrassed. “Because I like hearing you tell me how you feel, because I think I feel the same��.

There was a moment of silence as he tries to process what you said, his mouth went from being onto the floor into the biggesr toothy, smirk you’ve ever seen in your life, and his eyes light up. “Woo? Are you-” you try to ask if he was okay, but you get interrupted by his soft lips crashing onto yours. You freeze for a second before melting into the kiss, wrapping your arms around him as you pull him closer to you, his arms wrapped around your waist before breaking away from the kiss. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he tried to apologise, but you put a finger to his lips, shutting him up, “Shut it, I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” you ask, pulling away from him to walk towards your door. Already additcted to your touch, he tries to pull you back, pouting and whining softly, managing to get hold of your hand. “Yes, but one more kiss. Please~” he cries, like a child asking their parents for more sweets. 

With the amount of times you’ve rolled your eyes at this boy today, you’re suprised you’ve still got eyes in your head. Trying not to cave into him, you avoid eye-contact but his hand cupping your cheek made you instantly look at him, giving him a little smile before giving him the quickest peck possible, before running into the doorway of your house, “I’ll see you tomorrow” you shout, closing the door behind you as he pulls a tantrum in his spot before excitedly scrunching his nose, “Yes! I got the girl!” he loudly whispers, pulling a first in towards his side before making his way back to his flat to tell his friends all about how he got the girl. They’ll never hear the end of it. 

[ohbuckie]

Ooo 89 or 39 with college!bucky!

89. “Don’t ruin the sofa.”

wc: 1.7k (SORRY LOL)

warnings: college!bucky x fem!reader, smut, unprotected sex, exhibitionism if you squint

—

“Are you just gonna stare at me?”

His eyes rake up your body—over your hips, and your chest, and your face. “I mean...yeah.”

You kiss Bucky’s cheek and step into his apartment, setting your clutch down on the side table next to the couch. He closes the door behind you, presses himself against you, holds your waist gently in his large hands.

You’re wearing a long, red, satin dress, with matching strappy heels and diamond earrings that he gifted you for your last anniversary. It’s been three years now, since you hooked up in the backseat of his car on your first date. He’s wearing a collared button-up tucked into dress pants, ironed trimly, and his jacket is thrown over the back of the couch. His hair is slicked back neatly and his jaw shaved cleanly.

“We have to leave soon.” You warn him, placing your hand over his when his fingers grip you tightly.

“I won’t take long.”

“I don’t want to wrinkle my dress, Buck.” You whine, and he kisses the side of your neck. “Or your shirt.”

“They won’t wrinkle.”

“And if they do?”

“You’ll live, I think.”

You smile, giving up the annoyed act. He looks good, and smells good, and, if you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve been thinking about jumping his bones since you walked in.

“You’ll be quick?”

“You should know how quick I can be.” He smiles against you before taking your hand and pulling you to the couch.

“The guys aren’t home?” You ask, pulling up your dress and climbing onto his lap, holding his face in your hands and starting to kiss him.

He shakes his head and pulls away. “They went out for drinks.” He explains, gripping your ass and pushing it against his lap, where his steadily-hardening cock grows beneath you. “Will you suck me off?”

“You’re coming on awfully strong.”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

You give him another kiss, shoving his chest playfully and standing from the couch, falling to your knees. Your dress falls around you, and you hope that the floor’s been cleaned recently.

He unbuckles his only nice belt and unzips his only nice pants, shoving them down his legs far enough to be able to spread his legs, at least a little bit. You lean over his lap, untucking his cock from his underwear, wrapping your hand around it.

It stands straight up, seven or eight inches, intimidatingly. He walked you through this the second time you ever had sex, gave you instructions on how to take as much as possible down your throat—breathe through your nose, relax your muscles, swallow around him when it gets to be too much. He practically fucked your face that night, with his back pressed against the stall of a public restroom while Steve celebrated his birthday in the bar on the other side of the door.

You lick up the vein on the underside and swirl your tongue around the tip, looking up at him. His eyes are already focused on you, and he brushes a piece of hair behind your ear. You push your head down, taking a little more than half of what he’s offering. Your hand works the shaft, your lips unable to reach down that far without making your eyes water and subsequently ruining your makeup.

He shifts his hips and the head of his cock touches the back of your throat. “Fuck,” He whimpers, “sorry.”

You hum in response, bobbing your head up and down. With every movement of your neck, your panties grow wetter, thinking about what he’s about to do to you. Salty precum covers your tongue, mixing with saliva, sliding down your throat. You hollow out your cheeks with your lips around his tip, licking broadly up the slit at the top. He moans and tries not to ruin your hair by grabbing at it, though it’s proving difficult.

“Okay, okay, come up here.”

He doesn’t have to say it twice. You pull your mouth off of him, leaving him a slobbery mess, before you stand and remove your lacy thong—you’d expected this tonight, just maybe not this early. Not that you’re complaining. You move to his lap again, bracing your hands against his shoulders and letting him kiss your throat, your collarbones, the top of your breasts.

“Don’t leave any marks, Buck.”

“But-”

“We’re going to a fancy restaurant. No marks.”

“Fine.” He huffs, reaching under your dress to hold his cock still. “Sit on it.”

Your stomach tingles in response and you follow the order immediately, lifting a leg and positioning yourself over his dick, slowly sinking onto him until he’s all the way in and your skin is pressed together.

You breathe out a moan and sit for a minute with him inside of you, his hands on your bare thighs, your laps covered by the flowing fabric of your dress. You start moving slowly, lifting your hips and easing them back down a few times before picking up your pace, capturing his lips with yours to muffle any noises you might make.

The way his large palms and long fingers hold your legs works as a silent order to do as he says, or as he wills you to do. He aids you in moving your hips, pulls you down harshly with every upraise, fingernails leaving crescent-shaped craters in your soft skin. Your knees push between the cushions at the back of the couch, thighs aching dully and ass grinding forward for more friction every time you make contact with his lap.

His tongue slithers into your mouth and you accept it with grace, extending your own to him. Your lipstick is surely covering the lower half of his face—upper lip, mouth, chin, cheeks—but you wouldn’t dare stop this to check. You snake your arms around his neck, pulling yourself as close to him as possible, moaning gently into his mouth, letting him swallow it.

You both miss the door opening, and only realize that there are other people in the room with you when Steve shouts and Sam sighs annoyedly.

“Really, guys?”

You stop your movements, but Bucky keeps going, encouraging you to do the same.

“Buck-” You begin to protest.

“Just give us a minute, guys.” He interrupts. “Won’t be long.”

“Bucky, this is-”

“Five minutes.” He says, frustrated.

The guys give up, waving a hand of dismissal and walking to the hallway to find their bedrooms. “Don’t ruin the sofa.”

He chuckles and kisses across your jaw, moving his hands underneath your ass before pulling away from you. “Can we switch?”

You nod, and he wastes no time in getting you on your back. He doesn’t even pull out when he flips you, cradling your head and pecking your lips sweetly. Your legs wrap around his waist, heels pressing into the back of his thighs while he thrusts into you.

“Fuck, Bucky.”

“Feels good?”

“Yeah.” You throw your head backwards, arching your back into him.

With this new angle, you can feel him filling you a lot more. He fits into you like a piece to a puzzle, and soon finds your favorite spot with the end of his cock. He slams into you, pushing the spot like it’s an “instant orgasm” button. He looks down at where your bodies meet, and admires the way that you’re welcoming him.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot.” He moans. “You take it so well.”

Your chest heaves while you try to hold onto sanity, but when he tells you to let go, you listen. You clamp your hand over your mouth, desperate to stay quiet so that you don’t bother the guys, who are only a couple of rooms away now.

“Close?” He asks, as if to tease you. You only nod, arching your back involuntarily. “Touch yourself for me.” He says lowly against your ear, so the guys can’t hear him.

You listen, of course, and slide your hand down your clothed chest and torso until it finds your clit, sensitive and ready to be paid attention to. You rub in circles, pressing with your finger until it makes you squirm and shake. It alerts Bucky of your impending orgasm, and he whispers sweet nothings to you to help you reach what you’re chasing.

You moan and clench and tremble when he tells you how good you feel, and how he wants nothing more than you fuck you full of his cum. “God, Bucky, fuck!”

“Too loud!” You hear from down the hall, and while you continue to manipulate your sensitive bud and your orgasm carries on, you moan loudly in response—purposefully, of course.

“I’m gonna cum.” Bucky warns.

“Don’t get it on my dress.” You remind him, and it only takes a couple more thrusts before he’s entirely inside of you, holding still—with the exception of a few encouraging rolls of his hips—and pumping you full of cum.

“S’gonna come out.” He breathes. “Onto your dress, probably.”

“Be careful, then.”

“I can’t exactly stay in here forever.”

You huff. “Be quick.”

“Alright, ready?”

You nod, and he pulls out, quickly tucking his cock back into his pants and not bothering to zip them while he makes a beeline to the kitchen for towels. He runs one under water and returns, wiping you down, pressing gentle kisses to your inner thighs and lower stomach—a mannerism that starkly contrasts what he was doing only a few minutes ago.

He turns his wrist and peers at the watch face, raising his eyebrows and holding his hand for you to take. You both fix your clothes—smoothing wrinkles, fastening buttons, straightening outfits.

You crouch to the floor to pick up your panties, but he beats you to it, and looks you in your eyes while he shoves them into his pocket.

“Bucky-”

“You’ll get them back later.” He presses his lips to yours hotly. “I promise.”

[insufferablelust]

Cockwarming Don Reid with his men in the next room

Warning : Cockwarming, mob boss! Spencer, Mean dom!spencer, mention of killing, degrading name calling, filthy.. so fucking filthy, exhibitionism, literally almost fucking in front of people, mention of sub space, d/s theme obviously, and yeah.. 18+ please.

MASTERLIST HERE.

“Princess, come here.” Spencer pat his lap with a burning gaze directed to the cute little thing sat ontop of his office couch like a queen. Work days usually means no playing around, for Y/N it’s one of those days where she’d usually spend at her apartment doing her tasks or paint something for the young don.

But on rare occasions such this, where all the workload of responsibilities upon responsibilities piled on his shoulder, he’d bring her in, he’d tell her to sit all pretty, and continue to study unless daddy calls and that’s exactly she has been doing for hours now, sketching the wooden figurine on his shelf with her legs up the table and her back rests against the couch. She looks prettier than usual he thought, not that his butterfly never look anything less than amazing but she just radiates that softness, that gentle and tender touch which he often depraved himself of— being in the mob especially as the leader, he has to be on the rough rugged edge all the time, he cannot be tender and soft but he can certainly have you as his own personal reminder that not all things in life is as bad as what he has seen.

Y/N, the darling butterfly happily obliged as she stood up after placing her sketchbook down the table and make her way to where he sits on the large chair— colored burgundy red. The soft knitted knee high socks that clad her feet anxiously drags her to the edge of his desk with her fingers fumbling on the hem of her flower dress, no matter where and when, or how and why— he always intimidates her in ways that seemed to flutter her insides with pure wanton yet desirable lust, all for him.

Encased in a black suit, he sat up straight as he holds her hips before placing her down atop his lap with her back against his front, his perfect little princess. “Dressed so prettily for daddy. Haven’t seen this one before pet, did you buy them just to impress me hm?” if it were any other man, talking to you like you owe them you would flip their asses off and beat them to pulp— but when he says it, demands it, caress your soul with it— you couldn’t refuse nor deny.. not that you would ever want to anyway because yes, yes you did buy them to impress him, to make him as weak as she is for him.

She nodded shyly with a small “yes daddy” before squirming gently ontop of his lap whilst Spencer caress her inner thigh— calloused rough fingers brushing up and down her god glowing skin, intensifying all the tension that builds inside of her. Her skin prickled with heat as he inches his sinful fingertips up up up creeping upon her clothed dripping wet cunt, causing her to mewl lowly in frustration, grinding her ass back against his growing crotch.

“Daddy has so many things today pet, so many fucking things to keep you happy, to buy dresses like this one.” He whispered onto your ear, his lips pressing against your temple with his curls gazes against your heating cheek as you nod and shut your eyes tight— feeling his knuckles graze right against your clothed aching swollen clit, making you buck up your hips as he laughs behind you, chest rumbling with triumph.

“Jesus petal, haven’t done anything and you’re soaking my pants already? are you always this needy? fucking hell.” He shook his head as he keep on laughing condescendingly, whilst you writhed and squirm on his lap, your face nudging against his neck. “Please d-daddy..” Oh how he loves your mewls, your sweet sweet moans just sent all the blood from his head rushing down toward his cock— making him all dizzy and dying to feel your clutching heat.

“Shh you want Morgan to hear you, is that it? want my men to hear your filthy moans, bunny?” His words sent tingles up your spine, through your bloodstream as his fingers skillfully tear your panties apart, with you gasping— eyes as glassy as ever and mind absolutely mush with tension and pleasure. “Daddy asked you a question.” He growled, before slapping your bare wet soaking cunt few times which you respond with loud cries and squirm on his lap.

“Sorry daddy! f— please i... oh mmh!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you feel his thumb grazing innocently to your little nub of pleasure numbing nerves, flicking his thumb up and down it focusing on the rhythm as he might as well play you like his favorite instrument. “All needy and you can’t even get a proper word out, such a mindless baby.” He scoffed before slapping right on your clit multiple times.

“Ah! Ah oh! daddy!” You screamed, having no care in the world if his men heard— you knew in the back of your mind that they heard and that alone sends a new surge of adrenaline throughout your body, leaving you pliant and in need for daddy— daddy’s cock, fingers, anything just anything. “Here’s what you’re going to do, pup. You’re going to keep daddy’s cock warm whilst i do my job, if you behave like a good little girl then i’ll let you cum, but if you decided to think with your cunt and move i swear to god i’ll edge you six fuckin ways to sunday, you hear me?” You felt him fumbling with his zipper as he took his cock out, with you whining— babbling ‘yes yes yes daddy’ against his skin, eyes all droopy and fucked with your neatly applied mascara drip down your cheeks.

“Up you go pet, slide daddy in.” You shakily stand, bunching the hem of your dress on your hips before you straddled his thigh and looks down to get ahold the base of his well endowed cock— pulsing with need and heat. “Fuck, go on.” He urged you as he grab ahold of your hips before you lined him up with your sopping wet entrance and sink down slowly— down his massive throbbing length that has you moaning, panting.

“You can do better than that slut”

Smack!

“N-no! daddy please help! please i— ungh you’re too big!” You shook your head as you tried and tried to take him, all of him but everytime you sink another inch— your body felt like it’s been penetrated into a whole new level as if it hadn’t this morning or the night before, “Fucking helpless baby, look at you, pathetic and needy.” He growled before thrusting up inside you at once, forcing his thick length to slip fully inside your pumping dripping heat causing you both to moan out.

“Oh! oh mmh daddy.. shit..” You felt him deep, deep deep inside you, the tip of him grazing against your spot oh so deliciously, whilst you pant and convulse against him, clutching his cock like a vice. “Perfect little cunt, such a perfect doll for me.”

—

You’re convinced that if god was real, at this moment god must hate you for existing, must hate you so much that the universe sent you this adonis of a man to torture and blur the line of sanity and lunacy for you, torment your pleasure in mockery and sarcasm of how he stayed calm with you perched on his godly lap, panting like a puppy in heat as his thick length penetrated your insides as if it belongs there— forcing every bit of your self control over the teetering edge. You’re loosing your mind, that you’re sure of.

It has been no longer than 30 minutes but your toes have curled and uncurled themselves for eternity, your walls grew slicker and slicker each time he ‘shift’ accidentally, as you mewl and bit the skin on his neck, by the last minute of the long 30– you were trembling in order to resist yourself not to move, for the last bit of your working mind still recognized how severe the punishment would be if you were to move, the don is not one to fuck around with— oops.

Just as he stretches his hand, the knock of the door sent you into a spiraling mess, looking up to Spencer with wide eyes— all glassy and doe as you shook your head, “Daddy, d-daddy n-no..” Shivers runs deep and thrumming lively on your bloodstream as you saw his devilish handsome smirk.

“Be good and quiet, pup.” He whispers

“N-no! no daddy please! i—“

“Come in.” The sound of his voice and door cracking open has you shutting your eyes as tight as you could, face buried on the crook of his neck as he grips onto your thigh. You took a peek at the tall standing figure on the middle of his office, recognizing so clearly that it’s in fact Hotch not only that Emily and Morgan were also present, fuck— you’re fucked as you clenched hard causing the don to hiss and slap your thigh.

“What did i tell you about behaving hm? are you going to behave or should i let them deliver your punishment for you little one?” He growled in your ear, making you let out a pitiful whimper, trying as best as you could to resist the need to look at your patrons and to stay still. “No please, i’ll behave.” you muttered meekly, panting at the raging burning release that has been coiling inside your body.

“No please what? you know better, minx.” He shook his head before grasping your neck with his palm as he take a look at your messy figure. “No daddy p-please..” you bat your eyelash at him as he went in to kiss your lips with a small ‘good girl’ before getting back to his business.

“What is it?” He muttered coldly, one hand on the whiskey glass that he took a sip off every once in awhile and the other secured tightly around your lower tummy— you knew what he’s doing, the game is clear, you knew he likes to feel how you can feel him inside of you, pressing against your sweet spot and your slick canal tried so hard not to clench at the thought.

“The shipment hasn’t arrived yet to midtown, it supposed to days ago but we just heard from Garcia that the Kingsley’s hadn’t even reached out to her in weeks.” Although confident, you could tell there’s a hint of fear and worrisome latched behind Hotch’s voice, one does not fuck with your dom, one does not absolutely delay the shipment of his drugs— no no those cannot do.

“Have you traced it back to them?” The voice that rumbled against your back was eerily calm and deeper, resisting every urge inside his body to lash out— you know that very well. His fingers tighten and tighten its hold onto the glass which you could clearly see his knuckles turning white, you just hope that the poor glass won’t break.

“Yes don, Walker and Alvez went to their base and it was empty, looks like they left in a hurry.” You could feel it before you even see it, heard it, the way his blood pumps just even faster before a lound cracking of the wood sent fear and adrenaline through everyone’s bloodstream, “I don’t fucking care how many, and who’re you going to kill, but i want that fucking shipment arrived to midtown by dawn or i’ll pluck their own eyes myself.” His voice somehow rise and fell deeper at the same time, rumbling deep inside his chest which send shivers on everyone’s spine as they nod with a small uniformed ‘yes don’ before heading out hurrily— no one questions him, no one dared to speak against him, even if they know they’ll have the bloods of people (though bad) on their hands by nightfall.

His threat lives like a venom that stuck on their throat as they pursued their mission— one don does not get his hand dirty let alone going round plucking some low life mob’s eyes— or the end result could be.. would be catastrophic. These Kingsleys have one hell of a problem heading their way.

and you.. you have one hell of a raging frustratingly mad Mob boss in your hand.

—

Y/N’s head couldn’t even process the whole thing before she screamed in absolute pain when he pulled out harshly and bent her over his desk, knocking his whiskey glass onto the floor, clattering with no care in a world. Your mind begs for you to soothe him, soothe his anger yet your cunt aches and throbs with the need to let him use you— take the anger out to you, and ruin you for eternity. You’re his, and you’re ready.

“Stay fucking still.” Spencer slapped your ass harshly, causing you to jump in the position, your legs curled up for a moment as he gripped your hair tightly and grasp your neck with his unoccupied hand, “You’re going to stay still and be a good cocksleeve for me, i’m going to use you like you’re my toy and i won’t stop unless you say your safeword, got it?” His breath fans over your heated skin as you shake and tremble, your mind fuzzy with needs and mush of pleasure— blurring your absolute senses and submitting yourself fully to the mercy of his hand— his cock.

“Use your words, dumb little slut.” He hissed, choking your neck even tighter, with much force and you cried out, “Yes! yes sir, use me, i.. i’m yours..” just as you muttered out, your walls involuntary clenching at the intrusion of his cock plunging deep deep deep inside of you in one go, making you scream out in absolute pleasure and pain.

Spencer might’ve seen red— but when he delves deep inside of your tight heat, he saw the absolute heaven on earth as he begins to thrust in and out of your cunt in a brutal space, knocking his desk toppers off, and making you mewls and screams.

“Fucking tight little cunt— mine huh? isn’t it fucking mine pup?” He slammed into you over and over again as his balls hit your clit in an antagonizing pleasure whilst you writhe below him, forcing your eyes to stay open with all the power in your body looses control. “Its— mmmh ngh fuck! it’s y-yours sir! yes yes yes!” Your moans filled the entire building but neither of you care as Spencer drove his cock home everytime he sinks inside your tight pussy.

“Being such a good whore, letting me use you as my personal fucktoy, just to let my anger out.” He laughs maniacally, pistoning his hips as you clench your walls tightly to elevate the pleasure for you both, causing the room to tremble as you moan and cries out loud, “ungh yes! yes yes your whore daddy— mmh fuck me!” You could feel all the drool drips down your lips as he fucked you stupid atop of his desk but neither of you care nor have the patience to even pay attention because in his mind— the messier the better.

“Won’t be able to walk for days, pet. Fucking cunt going to drool for me everytime you see all the marks i fucking left on you.” He growled, bringing his palm over your ass before giving it a smack over and over again as your body lunges forward trying to get away with how all the friction is causing you to went into over sensitivity. But being the mean dom that he is, Spencer laughs as he pulled you back towards him by your hips. “Where are you going, bunny?”

“Please p-please let me cum, sir... ah!” You arched your back perfectly when the tip of his finger move down down down to where your swollen sensitive clit was, rubbing quickly in a fast pace just to send you over the edge, testing you, daring the orgasm out of you. “Wanna cum petal? hm wanna make a mess on daddy’s cock?” He whispered, one hand continues to rub your clit as the other focuses on holding you against him whilst his hips drives up deep— so deep that the tip grazes against your cervix.

“mmhh ah uh uh uh!” Your eyes lolled back trying to find a cohorent sentence— anything you can say to him but no matter what you’re trying to say was rendered to sinful moans and cries instead as you were right on the brink, “You can do better than that, c’mon bunny, beg daddy to cum.” he stills for a second, pressing in deep as he slaps your cheeks not once but twice— bringing fresh tears flows from your eyes.

“I.. ungh please daddy please! let me cum! been so good for you, please— want you to fill me up too.. fill your baby up, daddy!” Your high pitched voice rang an alarm through the circuit of his lust and anger laced mind, you’re slipping into your space and you’re slipping fast with your eyes just glazes absolutely flying through the realm of pleasure sensitivity.

“Good girl butterfly, such a good fucking girl, wanna cum? c’mon cum..” He whispered, before thrusting his hips in and out slowly, feeling the bliss of your overly wet and tight cunt engulfing him— milking him to cum inside, “Cum for daddy, princess, that’s it.. ohh... that’s it baby, good girl.” You cried out silently as you cum hard around his cock, muscles clenching so tightly that you sent him to release himself inside of you, thick ropes of cum paints your inside as you both moan and tremble.

“My good girl, shh thats it— best cunt ever.. that’s it, so so good for me.” He whispered softly, backing down to where his chair was pushed aside, bringing you with him before sitting down. You groaned out a loud scratchy, “daddy..” As you feel his cock shifted deeper inside of you, your eyes closed as he holds you and calms you down.

“Shh shh princess, just stay here like this. such a good girl, gonna keep me warm while i wait for them aren’t you?”

Although your cunt practically ache and scream for you to not say yes, your love and lust filled mind fogged with utter desire— just nods whining an agreeable mumble— just for him.

This will be a long long day and even a longer night.