#don��t say he wouldn’t do that

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru x darling

TW: NSFW, noncon, fantasy au

gn reader

Thinking about hunter Gojo and the pretty little nymph that gets themselves snared in one of his traps.

You can’t get your poor leg loose, having twisted your ankle in your fall to the ground – something’s wrong with your wing too, you can feel it – the thin network’s been folded, almost broken – so even if you did manage getting loose, you wouldn’t be able to fly away.

Branches snap around you along the crunch of old leaves – and your heart’s beating out of your chest in fear of it – knowing something large and dangerous is not far behind, that whoever set the trap is not something that wishes you well.

“You’re not a rabbit.” The man says, having crept in close before you’d even heard him approach – crouching in front of you with a hunter's grace. Hawk-eyes ice-blue and piercing, hair as white as pure snow.

He’s got three daggers sleaved in his belt – a fillet knife, a gutting knife, and a larger one you imagine is meant to slice throats. He doesn’t carry a sword like most men but has a bow and sack of arrows slung on his back. Otherwise, dressed lightly – brown leather boots, brown slacks, and a blue cotton shirt. You could have mistaken him for a woodland elf if it weren’t for the thick stench of man.

“Eating creatures from the holy forest is forbidden.” You snip, despite your wide eyes and the wobble of fear evident on your lip.

He only smiles at the quip, a grin like a predator humored by prey. “You wouldn’t tell a wolf not to hunt.”

He stalks you, leaning in closer, and you try shuffling away – but the movement only makes you wince.

“I’m just another hungry animal…”

Rope gnaws into your fine skin while his breath puffs hot and dewy on your face.

“And tonight… seems lady luck has favored me once again.”

He gags you and ties you further up before redoing his snare for the next unlucky creature – then carries you over his shoulder until he’s dropping you down on a bed of furs.

Your skin flushes with goosebumps at the thought of being skinned the same way – mouthing a little prayer around the cloth he’s split your teeth and lips with. He’s cut trees down as well; you hear their pitiful screams when he lights a fire with their bodies. You mourn them, too.

At his full height, the man must be two heads taller than any male nymph you’ve ever seen and at least three heads taller than you. You hope you’re enough to satisfy him tonight, to spare the forest of further bloodshed.

You shiver and sniffle when he starts prepping you – removing your clothes and groping your tender, fleshy places with a strength you’re not used to – hands large and crass – kneading you like dough – probably to assess the quality of your meat. He has a smile on his face while at it. 

Humans make you sick – to think he’s planning on roasting then eating you despite the soul fueling your spirit and the beating heart in your chest. But you’ve long known that all death but their own matters little to them – they don’t feel the same way nymphs do – they don’t regard life with the same respect they’ve donned themselves. It must be a sad and lonely existence, you think. It even makes you feel a little sorry for him.

You yelp when his gritty fingers brush the area between your legs – shimmying when he lowers his mouth down to the same place. Oh God – does he plan on eating you raw? While your body’s still hot and pumping blood?

But the bite never comes – not yet eating but tasting it would seem – licking and slurping and sucking on you.

He takes his shirt off. Probably to avoid spilling on it, you think.

You don’t really understand what’s going on until he’s got his fat manhood pointed toward your kernel-sized hole. Eyes wide as he splits you apart slowly and unabashedly – as though it isn't as deviant as a dog mating a cat – sinking in inch after meaty inch.

You whimper at the stretch – wincing when the plush mushroom-shaped head grinds against that special place inside you. 

It doesn’t fit more than halfway, but that doesn’t seem to bother him – rolling his head back with a rusty groan, even with just the tip gaining purchase within you – pounding into you like a beast in his rut.

“What's the matter, pretty nymph? Did you think I was gonna eat you?” He laughs, bearing over you – his hands steadying your hips to meet his sharp thrust – each hit deeper than the last. “I’m the only hunter in this forest; I can eat what I want when I want – but eating you?” He scoffed and snickered. “That would just be a waste.”

The blood on his breath makes you wrinkle your nose – squeezing your eyes shut as his tongue sweeps up the tear streaks on your cheek.

“My stomach’s already full. Time to empty my balls.”

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

hii!!

can i request a kinda angsty fix where the reader and jude got into a stupidish fight and jude knows he’s in the wrong and tries to apologize but the reader just wants some fresh air and when she goes out a man is like following her and being creepy and she has to call jude to come get her.

i think it’d be cute to end kinda fluffy with apologies and kisses to make up.

p.s luv your work<3

a/n: thank you so much for your request, I loved writing this. I hope you like it!

MIDNIGHT APOLOGIES

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: none, just that English is not my first language and the lack of originality in the title.

summary: After a petty fight with Jude, you step outside for some fresh air, despite his insistence that you don´t. Alone at night, you feel a stranger following you and you call your boyfriend in fear. When he arrives, your emotions run high, leading to heartfelt apologies and sweet moments together.

It was one of those nights that felt off from the very beginning. Jude had come home late from training, and you were already on edge after a rough day at work. The tension had been simmering for a while, and it didn’t take much for it to boil over. It started with something small—something so ridiculous, neither of you would even remember the cause by the next day. Maybe it was about him leaving his stuff everywhere or you being short with him. Either way, it turned into something bigger than it needed to be.

“Jude, it is not that difficult to pick up your stuff,” you’d said, your voice tight with frustration. “It’s like you’re always leaving it there for me to pick up.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. He was also tired after training and your bad mood didn’t help. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” he muttered. “I’ll get to it later.”

“Yeah, of course,” you snapped, throwing your hands up. “You always say you’ll ‘get to it,’ but you never do, Jude. I feel like I’m doing everything, and you’re just… I don’t know...”

He huffed, clearly frustrated but trying to keep his cool. “I’m tired, you know? Training is intense right now, and I just need some time to relax when I get home. Not your naggings.”

“And what about me? I’m tired too. I’ve had a horrible day, and you are not helping.” You hated how emotional your voice sounded, like you were right on the verge of tears. The last thing you wanted was for this to turn into something serious, but you were exhausted���exhausted of feeling unheard.

He sighed, rubbing his temple. "I know you're upset, but I’m doing my best—”

“No, Jude. You’re not,” you cut him off, the words sharper than you meant. “You’re not even trying.”

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with the unspoken tension between you. Jude’s jaw tightened, and you could tell he was trying to bite back whatever he wanted to say. He knew he was in the wrong—knew he had been neglecting your needs, but his pride wouldn’t let him admit it. At least, not yet.

After a few more moments of the suffocating quiet, you sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "I need some air," you muttered, grabbing your jacket from the chair and heading toward the door.

Jude straightened up from his position alarmed, his eyes following you. "This late? Babe, it's not safe out there right now."

You paused, your hand on the doorknob, turning to look at him. "I just need to cool off for a few minutes, Jude. If I stay here I’ll probably end up saying something I’ll regret."

His concern flickered across his face, but he held his tongue. Normally, he would’ve insisted you stay—that you work it out right then and there. But he knew this situation was his fault and that you would take his advice as a rude order. He didn’t want to escalate the situation any further. So, with a tight nod, he let you go, though the tension in his body was evident.

“Fine,” he muttered quietly, biting his tongue. “Just… be careful, alright?”

You didn’t respond, pushing the door open and stepping into the cool night air. As soon as you were outside, the weight on your chest lightened slightly. The cool breeze was a relief against your heated skin, and you walked with no particular direction in mind, just wanting to clear your head.

But as you wandered further away from your apartment, that feeling of relief slowly ebbed away, replaced by something else—a prickling sensation at the back of your neck. You glanced over your shoulder, your heart speeding up when you noticed a man a few steps behind you. His pace matched yours, and even though he wasn’t doing anything overtly threatening, there was something unsettling about his presence. You quickened your steps, trying to shake him off, but he did the same, closing the distance slightly.

You turned right onto a street, expecting the man to continue straight ahead. However, your heart began to race in your chest when the man not only imitated you, but also quickened his pace.

Your breath hitched, and your hand instinctively moved to your phone in your pocket. You fumbled with it for a second before dialing Jude’s number from memory, your fingers shaking.

He picked up after the first ring, his voice immediately concerned. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Jude," you whispered quietly, your voice trembling. "There's… there's a guy. I think he's following me."

There was a pause on the other end, and you could hear Jude moving, probably grabbing his jacket and keys. "Tell me where are you." His voice was sharp now, all traces of your earlier fight gone. You quickly rattled off the nearest street signs, your heart pounding in your chest as you continued walking rapidly.

"Stay on the phone with me," he said firmly. "I'm coming to get you. Don't look back—just keep walking towards the main road. I'll be there in five minutes."

You did as he said, your feet moving faster as you tried to reach a more populated area, but it was difficult due to these hours. Your heart was racing, but hearing Jude’s voice kept you grounded. You kept walking, glancing around nervously, but soon enough, you spotted him, his face set in a mixture of anger and concern. The man behind you seemed to realize what was happening and quickly disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone.

Jude reached you in moments, pulling you into his arms without a word. You could feel how tense he was, his hand gently running up and down your back as he held you close and tight.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, his lips brushing the top of your head.

You nodded, your face buried in his chest as you answered him. "Yeah… I just got scared."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning your face. "I'm sorry," he murmured, cupping your cheek. "I shouldn’t have let you go out by yourself. I knew it wasn’t safe, but I didn’t want to argue more. That was on me."

You shook your head, feeling a little overwhelmed by everything. "No, no. It’s not your fault. I just needed some space, but I shouldn’t have gone out so late."

His thumb brushed over your cheek, and his eyes softened, guilt etched into every line of his face. "Still, I should’ve been more understanding earlier. I’ve been so caught up in everything, and I haven’t been thinking about how much I’ve been taking your actions for granted. I’m really sorry."

You sighed, the frustration melting away at the sincerity in his voice. "I just… I just want you to be here with me, Jude. I don’t need you to be careful about everything, just… a bit more understanding."

He nodded, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I will. I promise. I’m so sorry, baby."

His kisses came quicker after that, small and tender — one on your nose, another on your cheek, then the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped you, especially when he placed another light peck on your forehead.

"Jude," you muttered, but you were smiling now.

"What?" he grinned, pressing one more kiss to your lips. "I’m making it up to you."

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable as you wrapped your arms around him tighter. "I think you're forgiven," you teased.

His smile widened as he pressed another kiss to your lips, this one deeper, lingering just long enough to make your heart race. “Good,” he whispered. “Because I’m never letting you go out at night alone again. Now I’m your bodyguard.”

Of course, you didn’t protest.

[solarmorrigan]

In for a Devil of a Night

For the @steddie-spooktober day 30 prompt: "Where in the hell did you find that costume??" Rated: T | Words: 930 | CW: implied sexual content | Tags: established relationship, slutty Halloween costumes: not just for women!, stockings, wouldn't go so far as to say lingerie but it's close, Steve Harrington is a tease, Eddie Munson is whipped Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“Hey, babe?” Steve’s voice floats back towards Eddie from the bedroom. “Can you come help me with something?”

“Yeah,” Eddie calls back, though it takes him a moment to tear his attention away from the slasher flick playing on the TV.

Steve had wandered off about half an hour ago, just when it had started getting dark, saying he had to put on his costume. Eddie’s already wearing his—has been for most of the day, actually—a relatively simple ensemble of a billowy white shirt, a brown leather vest, and a pirate hat (there had also been an eyepatch, but he’d abandoned that early on).

Neither of them have plans for the night, no Halloween parties or other engagements, just the intent to watch a few scary movies and hand out candy, but Eddie had talked Steve around to dressing up anyway. The kids at the door always love it when Eddie is committed to acting out his costume, and he has every intention of pulling Steve into the bit.

It would help, of course, if Eddie knew what Steve’s costume is, but Steve’s been stubbornly secretive about it – says it’s a surprise.

And, to Steve’s credit, Eddie is very surprised when he gets to the bedroom.

His eyes are glued to Steve’s ass for a solid few seconds before he can take in any other part of the costume, but that really isn’t his fault; it nearly has a target on it, wrapped in tiny, shiny red shorts that draw Eddie’s attention immediately. A long, red, pointed tail hangs from the waistband of the shorts, and Eddie can only curse it for partially obstructing the otherwise perky, rounded view.

Then Steve turns around.

The shorts are, if possible, even more obscene from the front, doing almost nothing to obscure the bulge of Steve’s cock. The fun doesn’t end there, however. The costume (such as it is) doesn’t seem to have come with shoes, but Steve’s made up for that with a pair of silky-looking, red thigh-high stockings, the elastic tops squeezing into the meat of his thick thighs in much the same way Eddie would like to be doing right now.

There are little devil horns situated on top of Steve’s head, poking out from his artfully tousled hair, and there’s red glitter—glitter! Never let it be said that Steve Harrington half-asses his seduction attempts—spread around his sultry, heavy-lidded eyes and over the tops of his cheeks.

It should look cheap and ridiculous, but like just about everything else he puts on, Steve manages to make it sexy. Eddie has had to come to terms with his growing appreciation for preppy polos, and he supposes now he’ll just have to accept his attraction to lamé short shorts.

Unfortunately, since the overall effect of the ensemble has kicked Eddie’s brain offline, the first thing out of his mouth is neither suave nor appreciative.

“Where in the hell did you find that costume?” he blurts.

Steve gives a rolling shrug. “Costume shop,” he says, twitching his hips to the side so that his tail swings out. He grabs it and twirls it in a lazy circle. “I know devils and demons are usually your thing, but I hoped you wouldn’t mind me borrowing the shtick for the night.”

“Uh, no– no, not… at all.” Eddie shakes his head quickly. “Are you, uh– planning to answer the door like that?”

“No,” Steve answers with a smirk. “I thought we could just put out a bowl of candy with a sign telling people to take one, and then we can stay in the bedroom all night.”

Eddie blinks at him. “Steve, that’s a terrible idea,” he says. “’Take one’? No kid in their right mind would take just one. The candy will be gone in fifteen minutes, and then we’ll have kids ringing the doorbell, and when we don’t answer, we’re gonna get egged or some shit.”

With his smirk melting into a frown, Steve drops his tail and crosses his arms over his bare chest, one hip popped out in a way that somehow manages to convey judgement.

“Are you seriously arguing with me right now?” he asks, at once bitchy and incredulous.

“Oh my god.” Eddie takes a moment to stare into the middle distance, letting his brain recalibrate. “What is wrong with me?”

He ducks out of the bedroom, already halfway to their tiny in-home office when Steve calls after him, “Where are you going?”

Eddie backtracks, popping his head back around the doorway. “I’m getting a piece of paper to make the sign.” He points a finger at Steve. “You stay right where you are. I need two minutes to set this up and then I’m gonna come back and ravish you.”

Steve smile is back, soft and amused. “Okay. Go ahead, I’ll wait right here.”

Eddie dashes through writing up the sign (does it matter if it’s legible? It’s just going to be ignored) and is on his way to the kitchen for a bowl when something occurs to him.

“Hey.” He ducks back into the bedroom doorway. “Didn’t you say you needed help with something? What was it?”

Biting his lip, Steve drags a hand down his ribs, over his stomach, and hooks a thumb in the waistband of his shorts. “I need help getting the costume off.”

Tearing himself away to finish setting up the candy is the hardest thing Eddie thinks he’s ever had to do, but with the prospect of Steve to come back to, he manages it (if only just).

[yunhoszn]

steamed milk

pairing choi san x f!reader word count 2.5k genres fluff﹒smut warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, not proofread, all lowercase bc i wrote this at 2 am… a week ago <3, barista!reader, barista!san, clumsy reader, mentions of burn scars?, mutual pining, little bit of power imbalance but it doesn’t play into the plot, escalates pretty fast, public sex, unprotected sex, cute fluffy moment at the end, may we get f’s in the chat for kim hongjoong’s desk chair

summary a closing shift with san is… interesting… to say the least.

more alright alright alright, i know i have a billion wips and a billion reqs to work on,,, but @bro-atz needed something to read on a flight and i needed an excuse to write with no plot in mind, solely based on vibes and this is what came out of it… i ALSO KNOW i’ve been withholding for a week but that’s bc i wasn’t sure if i wanted to keep this locked in the dungeon for a rainy day or not, until i remembered i should post something in honor of chellateez 🥳

@atzhouse @san-network

“did you burn yourself on the steam wand again, y/n?”

you bite your lip and turn away from hongjoong bashfully. so what if you’re a little clumsy, it’s not like you completely sucked at your job. maybe there were a few milk spills here and there. at least you knew what you were doing most of the time. 

“um, what would you do if i said no?” you scratch the back of your neck with the hand that wasn’t burned. hongjoong sighs, leaning back in his rolling chair. as the manager of a coffee shop, he did not get paid enough to babysit and coddle his employees like he usually did. 

between you almost always making a mess and then yunho and mingi goofing around whenever they were on shift together, he felt like he was starting to grow grey hairs. he shakes his head with a tsk, pulling out the first aid kit from one of the drawers in his desk. “let’s put some burn cream and a bandaid on it so you can hop back out. the dessert rush is about to begin.”

you nod and rock on the balls of your feet as you wait patiently. your manager dresses your burn and sends you on your way. the dessert rush, aside from the morning rush, was arguably the worst part of the day. shifts at the coffee shop were divided into thirds— open to mid, mid to evening, evening to close. while opens were the most busy, you at least got out early and could enjoy the rest of your day. mids were the slowest, but they took place midday so you couldn’t do much after you clocked off. 

closes were the worst, because they were so unpredictable. you weren’t ever sure if it was going to be busy, apart from the usual dessert rush, and that uncertainty bothered you. the beginning of your closing shift was staffed pretty well. there was yeosang, who was probably the best barista out of the lot of you, and seonghwa, a seasoned veteran in this game. he was your assistant manager. 

however, yeosang and seonghwa were off at 6 PM and the shop closed at 9 PM, leaving you and your lead for the night to close all by yourselves. and your lead? choi san. 

closing with san wouldn’t be such a problem if it weren’t for your massive crush on him. out of the other leads, san was the kindest. he didn’t lose his cool if your clumsy nature got the best of you during a hectic shift. in fact, he took his time to ensure everything was okay. he didn’t care if there were angry customers demanding that their drinks be made. his baristas were his number one priority. 

and well, with his appearance today, it would be more difficult than usual. donned in a white button up and some black slacks, his brown apron over, you think you’re going to faint. on a regular basis, san wore simple things like the occasional sweater or t-shirts and jeans, but this new look was making you all sorts of dizzy. you felt inferior beside him. (though technically, you were.)

with hongjoong, seonghwa, and yeosang leaving all at the same time, you were in a crisis. how were you supposed to survive this shift? it’s like the universe meticulously crafted this moment so it could laugh at you. and it all started with you burning yourself on that goddamn steam wand, while you were on bar with san of all people. 

“are you sure you don’t want me to send you home?” san asks lowly, making sure only you heard him. the two of you were finishing an order when he asked the question. 

“i couldn’t let you close by yourself.” you pout. as hard as it’s going to be working with him alone for three hours, you’d feel awful leaving him to fend for himself. 

“i can ask yeo or hwa to stay,” he shrugs, putting a lid on the iced vanilla latte in front of you. “i don’t want you to hurt yourself again.”

“i’ll be fine, san,” you reassure. “besides, seonghwa would probably kill me if i was the reason he had to stay later than he had to.”

san laughs a little, eyes scrunching up in the cute way they do when he smiles. your heart rate spikes and you have to take a deep breath to compose yourself. he nods as he turns to hand out the order. 

“if you insist.”

maybe you should’ve taken him up on that offer to go home. 

you’re too distracted by the way his rolled up sleeves strain against his muscular arms, staring a little too much. hongjoong just so happens to walk out of the back at that exact moment. he thinks your (very obvious) crush on san is funny, but not when the line is wrapped and you’re about to be down two men. 

“y/n, there’s five drinks waiting to be made,” he calls out, tapping on seonghwa and yeosang’s shoulders to let them know they can go. “what’s more important that has you standing there doing nothing?”

“sorry…” you apologize sheepishly, avoiding his gaze as you start on the next order; a dry cappuccino with cinnamon. great. another drink that required you using that godforsaken steam wand. a truly evil contraption. 

“i can be milk if you’d like?” san suggests suddenly, noticing your hesitation to steam the 2%. 

“if it’s not too much of an ask,” you frown. “i just don’t want to hold us back in the middle of a rush.”

“you don’t need to explain yourself to me, y/n,” he quickly swaps places with you. “i think you’re pretty damn good with a portafilter anyway.”

it’s a stupid compliment. only another barista would even know what that meant, but you take it to heart. your body flushes with warmth as you tamp the espresso grounds and pull a shot viable enough to use for the cappuccino. you’re a little shaky as you pour it into the paper cup and wait for san to pour the milk. 

this was the closest you’d get to flirting with san, and it was him telling you that you were actually good at your job. what a sad life you lived. 

thankfully, you manage to bulldoze through the line with just the two of you. in times like these, your solution is to go nonverbal and lock in. if you talk while you’re making drinks, you get distracted too easily and you find it’s harder to multitask. after the rush, things are slow for the most part and then it’s just you, san, and the sound of cafe music playing quietly over the speakers at 9 PM. 

“y/n, can i ask you a question?” san inquires, counting the till as you wipe down the espresso machine and the bar around it. 

“what’s up?” you hum, refolding your rag. he shuts the register and walks over to you, leaning on the bar adjacent to the one you were at. 

“i’m curious, and you don’t have to answer if you’re uncomfortable, but i’ve heard that you like me. is that true?” it comes out so politely, you’re not even sure you heard him correctly. you blink as the words process in your brain. this was the end. now you really wished you went home early. 

“well— um— i don’t know how to answer that…” you fiddle with your fingers, looking everywhere but at san. 

“all i want is a yes or no, because truth is,” he walks closer and closer until he’s directly in front of you. “i have a little crush on you myself.”

“you what?!” you don’t mean to sound so shocked, so appalled even, because he takes a step back, eyes widened by your outburst. you’re just so confused. choi san liked you? like, liked you?

“i’ll take that as a—“

“no!” you stand upright, grabbing his wrist. when you realize what you’ve done, you immediately let go. “i mean, no, as in yes. i do like you, san. i was just… embarrassed… that you found out from elsewhere instead of me. and i’m a little in disbelief that you feel the same.”

“why’s that?” his head tilts to the side a bit. “what’s not to like about you?”

“for starters, i’m the biggest klutz on the planet.” you huff, but that makes his smile grow wider. 

“i think that’s your charming point,” he admits, hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks. “while i don’t enjoy seeing you hurt, like when you burned yourself earlier, i do think it’s kinda cute when you accidentally knock over a drink.”

“are you okay in the head? were you dropped on it as a baby?” you ask with a raised eyebrow. he laughs, this time a full on laugh that has him bringing a fist up to his mouth. you think you just shed a tear. and not from your eyes. 

“i don’t believe so. i guess i’m just attracted to people who aren’t afraid of being themselves,” he shrugs, reaching out to take your hand into his. “and you check all the boxes.”

remember the whole fainting thing? that’s about to come true. you manifested it. 

san brings your knuckles up to his lips, first kissing over the bandaid where your burn was and then all over the back of your hand. you stand there like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing but no words escaping you. was the universe… rewarding you somehow?

“how often does joong check the cameras?” you gasp when his kisses have moved from your hand to your neck. he doesn’t break contact, speaking into your skin as he unties your apron. 

“almost never, but you have a point.”

this is how you end up on san’s lap in hongjoong’s office chair, fingers tangled in each other’s hair, lips locked like no tomorrow. he was a fantastic kisser, which just further proved your theory that he was the perfect human being. along with the subtle flirting, and the obvious knack for respecting boundaries, it’s almost like the universe had hand crafted choi san to be the ideal man. and they say chivalry is dead. pft, san’s existence dispels that notion undoubtedly. 

“he won’t know, right?” you pant, arching into him when he sucks at a particular part on the base of your throat. he hums. 

“you’re worrying too much,” san’s fingers slip under your top, digging into your waist. “i promise, he won’t find out. but we’ve gotta be quick since he’ll know what time we left.”

“m’kay,” you sigh, grinding down on his lap to help speed things along. the undressing process is a blur. you wish you could spend more time admiring his bare chest and arms, especially because you’d been fantasizing about this moment for almost an entire year now. 

“god, you’re so gorgeous, y/n,” he murmurs, reconnecting your lips sweetly. his hands massage the sides of your thighs as you hover over him, preparing to sink down on his cock. “i finally have you all to myself.”

you whine when you do, his words encouraging your arousal. the intrusion has you moaning softly, eyes squeezing shut from the sheer pleasure streaming through your veins. your nails scrape his shoulders and back, toes curling. the tip of his dick grazes that sensitive spot deep in your cunt with ease, as if he was made to be inside of you. 

“feels— fuck— feels so good, san,” you whimper, head falling to the crook of his neck. san chuckles, albeit a little strained. his hands remain in your hips, aiding your movement so you don’t get too tired. 

“is that right, sweetheart?” he says into your ear, nipping the lobe gently. “you’re taking me so well.” 

his praise shoots straight to your core, punching another moan out of you. you really shouldn’t be surprised that he’s inching you towards the edge of that familiar tide so fast. it’s san, and like you’ve stated before, he’s damn near perfect. but holy shit, the way he’s fucking you has you thinking that there is such a thing as heaven. 

you have to bite down on his collarbone to stop yourself from screaming like a fucking pornstar, leaving a myriad of marks on his skin to restrain the ferality threatening to jump out of you. every drag of his cock on your velvety walls drives you just a little more insane each time. 

he’s moving so slow, but so deep all at once, and it’s just the right combination to decorate the backs of your eyelids in stars and colored spots. his ring and middle fingers meet your swollen clit, circling with practiced pressure. the office chair squeaks awfully with each of your bounces on his lap, but you’re too close to pay it any mind. instead, you drown it out with your own noises— warnings of your impending orgasm. 

“gonna cum— my god, san, i’m—!” you don’t even finish your sentence, the tide finally reaching the shore. your orgasm washes over you hard and unlike any other you’ve ever experienced before. you aren’t sure if he’s just that good, or if it’s because it’s san. (most likely a combination of both.) 

san coos, guiding you through the peak of your climax. once you’ve calmed considerably, you slide him out of you and stroke his cock until he’s painting the inside of your thighs with milky white and a groan. his face screws up in pleasure, eyes fluttered shut and brows knit together. his lashes kiss the tops of his cheeks and you think you’ve just fallen in love, for real. 

his chest rises and falls as he attempts to catch his breath. you can’t help placing a hand over the left side to feel the rapidity of his heartbeat, smiling to yourself. he mirrors your expression after a moment, leaning up to press a sensual kiss to your lips. 

“as fun as this was, and as much as i like the view right now, it’d be better if i could actually take you out after this… and if i could fuck you somewhere nicer than on our manager’s desk chair.” san bites at the inside of his lip, glancing down at the rolling chair beneath you. 

“i agree,” you giggle, brushing his hair from his face. “hongjoong’s office isn’t the ideal location for a first date or first time sleeping together. but at least we’ll have a fun story to tell our kids.”

san bursts into laughter at that. “our kids, huh? you’ve thought that far ahead?”

“i’ve had a crush on you since i got hired, choi san, what do you think?” you raise an eyebrow, booping his nose with your index finger. he scrunches it up with a grin. 

“i think that i’ve had a crush on you just as long. and if we’re having kids, it’s best to omit some details when we retell this story.” 

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[chloe-skywalker]

We Gotta Know - Jason Dilaurentis

Jason x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 662

Summary: The liars forcing you to go out with Jason after he asks. Hoping they can figure out if he’s -A. They don’t know you already dating Jason and have been for a while. So you tell Jason when you both go out.

Masterlist

Pretty Little Liars Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Come on Y/n.” Aira pleaded to Y/n. They really needed her help on this.

“We gotta know if he’s -A.” Hannah pointed out their main reason for trying to get her to accept Jason's date. They had overheard the two talking and Jason mentioned their upcoming date. Since the girls don’t know they’re dating they believe he was asking her out. 

“And this is the perfect opportunity.” Spencer added. She had planned it all out.

Y/n looks at them in shock. “You all are using me as a way to find out if Jason is -A. Okay one I could get hurt if he was, two Jason is not -A.”

Emily furrowed her brows. “How do you know he’s not.”

“Ali was his sister. Sure they didn’t get along but he wouldn’t kill her.” Y/n tells them what she thought should be good enough reasons.

“We have to know for sure. So please do this.” Aria pleads one last time.

“Fine.” Y/n gave in. They wouldn’t leave it alone and she couldn’t tell them the truth. They’d freak.

Later after messaging Jason back and accepting the date, the two made plans for going to see a movie and walk around for a while and get dinner.

“Hey Jason.” Y/n greeted him with a hug and a smile.

“Y/n/n” Jason smiled as he escorted her to his car and they headed off on their date.

They went and saw the movie and had a nice time. Now the two were just walking around through the strip mall. 

Jason noticed how she seemed a little on edge, and it worried him. 

“What's on your mind?” He had noticed her odd behavior and Jason really felt like he needed to say something.

“Huh?” Y/n looked at him in confusion.

“You're slightly distracted, looking around like we’re being followed or something.” Jason added before noticing how even after mentioning it she’s still acting that way he asks. “Did -A message you?”

Y/n shook her head, she had to tell him. She wouldn’t keep it from him. “No. It’s the girls.”

“What do you mean?” Jason furrowed his brows. Why would the girls be making her act this way?

“They think your -A.” Y/n admits looking at him with apologetic eyes.

“What?” Jason was in shock and couldn’t believe it. The girls thought he killed his own sister.

“They think you could be -A so when they overheard us planning this date, since they don;t know we’re dating. They thought it was a perfect chance to see if your -A.” Y/n told him, explaining the situation.

“I can see why you don’t want to tell them.” Jason grimaced, god this situation was so messed up he thought.

“I tried telling them you're not -A but it’s hard to go to the extent of doing it when I can’t tell them how I know.” She gave him a sad smile.

“I appreciate it.’ He gave her a small understanding smile before sighing. “Me and Ali didn’t get along but I wouldn’t kill her. Or threaten you guys.”

Y/n nodded and scoffed. “I know. Ali wasn’t the nicest person. Honestly half the time she was a bitch. To everyone. But you wouldn’t do any of this.”

“So are you worried their watching us?” Jason asks, looking around himself.

“Possibly. I don’t know.” Y/n shrugged nervously. She didn’t know if they were but she wouldn’t put it pass them. She was nervous the whole time and had been slightly distant from him the whole night because of it.

“Wanna run to the car and get outta here and be alone? If they are following us and watching we can lose them.” Jason smirked at his girl as he grabbed her hand in his.

“That sounds amazing.” Y/n smiled up at him.

“Let’s go.” Jason grabbed her hand and they bolted to the car laughing.

taglist: @padawancat97

[literaila]

"i don''t wanna get you sick"

from either reader or peter (sorry if you've already written a fic like this)

where’d you get your medical degree

tasm!peter x fem!reader

warnings: the ask says it all.

a/n: in lieu of sick season. and because of many illnesses (such as writers block, and insanity) which are preventing me from writing anything serious

*

“no,” you whine, pushing him away. “don’t touch me.”

peter is looking down at you with an incredulous look on his face. his hair is loose and his eyes are close, and he’s unbelievably pretty. like you have to blink a few times, just to make him appear normal—and a little less blurry.

you think he’s smiling too, but you can’t really see it. you might be dreaming.

“is there any particular reason why not, bub?”

his hands near you again, cold fingertips on your jaw, around your head. you groan and move your face away from them—even though it feels wonderful.

“i don’t know where those hands have been.”

peter snorts. “trust me,” he says, tilting your head back to him, “you do.”

your stomach turns, and suddenly his hands are a saving grace, so you grab both, holding them to your cheeks.

“change your mind?”

“cold,” you sigh, leaning as close as you can get to him.

“you’re burning, love, and not the elvis kind.”

you shake your head, eyes closed. “not funny,” you mutter.

“can you look at me real quick?”

you moan and close your eyes even tighter. “i’m tired, peter. come back when we’re open.”

“just let me see those pretty eyes and then you can sleep. i’ll even get you some comfier clothes. and some water.”

you move your legs around, feeling the stiff polymer pants you wore today, assuming that you wouldn’t be halfway to death by 3pm.

“how bout some ice cream?” you ask, opening one eye.

it is not lost on you that peter is trying to flirt with you. or that he’s frowning.

“your pupils are big,” he says, concisely. “did you get drugged?”

you giggle, moving away from him, his fingertips suddenly ticklish. “yes, from my computer,” you grin at him, closing your eyes again. “at my office job.”

“okay, stoner, what medicine did you take?”

you frown. “none.”

peter is frowning back. you can feel it. but you’re not going to open your eyes, just in case he’s suddenly brushed his hair or something. put on mascara. who knows what lengths peter would go to surprise you.

“wait,” you hold a finger up. “whatever’s in my bag, i think. i took it at work.”

peter sighs, patting your leg before he moves about the room, looking for a purse you must have lost.

you actually can’t really remember how you got home in the first place.

“if your fever gets any worse, we’re going to the doctor.” peter says this from across the room, and you’re pretty sure he’s not even talking to you. “here. this is just acetaminophen. how long ago?”

your face is pushed into the pillow beside you. it smells like peter, so you keep it there.

“loopy, can you just answer this one question?”

“the pillow is speaking to me.”

peter puts a hand on your back. “i am so sure you’re on drugs,” he says, almost adoringly. “the pillow is telling you that you need to clean up. trust me, we’re close. let’s get you into pajamas and then i’ll find you some stuff.”

you don’t move. maybe you didn’t hear him.

“bub,” he says, a bit louder, sterner. “c’mon, it’ll only take a sec.”

“not moving.” your voice is muffled. “ever.”

“how am i supposed to kiss you, then?”

you turn and peek out at him, lip curling at the mention. and then you cough. “you cant kiss me. i’m sick.”

“it’s disappointing that you think that would deter me.”

“if you’re sick how are you supposed to take care of me?”

“i’ll always take care of my baby,” he swears, leaning into you. if you were of right mind you might realize he wants a kiss. you might realize what you want.

but you only nod approvingly, and then smush your face back into his pillow.

peter groans. his hand moves to the back of your head, and he massages your scalp for a moment. “i know those clothes aren’t comfortable,” he pulls at your tight blouse, the one you wear when you want to feel good about yourself and you don’t mind neglecting to breathe. “even though it looks good on you. you’re sweating through it.”

your muffled voice returns: “do i smell?”

it’s a miracle that peter can understand anything you’re saying. “just like you,” he sniffs, “and maybe a bit like coffee? did you spill something on yourself?”

you don’t move. just hum into the pillow, hacking up a lung into it.

peter shakes his head. “i’m gonna need to wash that. up, baby. a shower would help your sinuses, but we’ll change if you’re tired.”

“baby,” you giggle to yourself.

“yes, baby, because you have de-aged significantly in the past hour. do i have to carry you to the closet?” his voice is teasing, but you’re not really sure that you can hear anything.

you finally turn, sitting up so you can look at peter. “am i being difficult?” you ask him, worriedly. your skin has shifted colors, and your voice is more like rock on rock. but you still frown at peter. “i’m sorry. you don’t have to do anything. i can change.”

but as you say it you double over in a coughing fit, and while you can feel peters hand on your back, you’re almost worried he’s already left.

“don’t be ridiculous,” he whispers when you’re silent again, swallowing. “i like taking care of you. though, i’m not loving that cough. do you need some water?”

you look at him, checking his eyes for something that you’d never be able to recognize in this state. and finally you nod, silent.

peter kisses your forehead and leaves for the kitchen.

you sit there, trying to keep your back perfectly straight. even through the overwhelming urge to lay back down in the bed and suffocate in the blankets.

you really just want to smell that pillow some more.

your head is pounding, and you try to remember if you even took that medicine in the first place. how long you’ve been sitting there. if peter even took your temperature in the first place.

but peter is back before you figure it out. “here,” he hands you a glass of water, watching you with narrowed eyes. “drink all of it.”

“i’m not thirsty.”

he glares at you and you smile, sipping on the water.

he smiles back, sitting down next to you and feeling all over your face with his hands. “what’s the status report?”

“still sick, but my mental capacity is coming back.”

“oh good,” peter says, leaning back but not letting go of you. “i was worried when you didn’t laugh at my elvis joke.”

you snort and lean right back into him, your head against his chest. he smells a lot better than cheap cotton.

“sorry ‘bout your pillow,” you cough out, leaning away from him suddenly so you don’t spit in his face.

“it’s fine. i enjoy a little snot with my sleep.”

“gross, peter.”

he grins down at you, kissing the top of your head again, because he is beyond adorable. then he sombers, still staring, carefully evaluating you. “do you want some more medicine? i think we’ve got some cold stuff in the cupboard.”

“the sleepy kind?”

“probably. take some of that. do you want to shower?”

“not really,” you say, letting him hold your head up. “i’m a little dizzy.”

peter frowns at you. “i’d make sure you don’t fall,” he offers.

“that’s okay,” and then you, once again, hack up some mucus in front of his face and sigh pathetically into your own hands.

“how about some tea? for your throat?” his hand moves yours away, brushing the hair out of your face.

“peter, it’s okay.”

you kiss his hand and push it away.

“the teas okay?” he frowns. “as in yes?”

“i’m okay,” you repeat, shaking your head at him. “you don’t have to do anything else. i’m fine.”

“you’re sick,” he corrects.

“i’m a big girl. i just need a nap. i’m probably not even sick.”

you emphasizes this point by choking down a cough, making your eyes water.

peter raises a brow.

you smile, tightly. “i’m just gonna go change now—“ you stand up, and then fall back down. your head spins as you feel peters hands wrap around your waist, his lips pressed against the side of your temple.

“just let me help,” he whispers, into you. “i’m not busy.”

“you had a long day.”

“i just want to cuddle with you anyway. i can take a few extra steps—like making you tea and getting you medicine.”

you shake your head. “i can do it.”

“i miss high you,” peter sighs. “c’mon, bub, stop being stubborn.”

you frown. “you’re the stubborn one. go swing and save someone else,” you tell him. “i just need a nap.”

“then i’m napping with you.”

you tilt your head back, groaning, and regretting it immediately when there’s a sharp stab in the front of your eyes.

peter kisses your now exposed neck, moving his hand so it keeps your head still. “you probably need to go to the doctor.”

“don’t be dramatic.”

peter scoffs. “you’ve got a fever of 103 degrees. i’m not dramatic.”

“i think i missed the era where you got your medical degree.”

peter scowls at you, pushing your sweaty hair out of your eyes and making sure you can see his conviction to never ever let this go. “it’s called webmd. it’s a wonderful place.”

“peter,” you whine, trying to push him away.

“baby,” he whines back, but smiles as he picks you up, like a literal baby, making sure not to jostle your head. “pajamas. what do you want to wear? and what’s the verdict on the tea?”

you sigh and lean your head into his neck. you don’t appreciate this, but it’s hurting to keep your eyes open. you cough into him, muffling yourself from the world. “can i wear your shirt?” you say, softly.

peter smiles like he’s won the lottery. you can feel it against your head. “yup,” he pops, “but it’ll cost you.”

“what?” you ask, sniffling.

“a kiss.”

he pecks your cheek, then your nose, and carries you away.

*

[spenceragnewfics]

perhaps a fic where y/n does something stupid and reckless to get spencer's attention. and he's wildly concerned but also "wtf y/n you don't need to do all that, you HAVE my attention"

This took longer than usual, but I'm not going to stress myself out by trying to get something out every day and just take my time.

LIGHT BURNS | Spencer Agenew x F!Reader

TW: Jealousy, small injury

Word Count: 2.06k

Description: Spencer and Y/N are the mom and dad of the Smosh office, but what happens when a new games editor appears and takes a lot of Spencer's attention?

Love is a bizarre thing. Many people know this and have done awful, strange, and crazy things for it. That’s the current situation Y/N is in.

Y/N and Spencer have been dating for years. The two have been friends since before they started working at Smosh and dating since their college years. The two are practically married but are just waiting for the right moment.

Many of the new cast members see them as the company’s mom and dad with their relationship dynamic, at least until a new games editor came in. 

“Babe! I want you to meet someone.” Spencer says, seeing Y/N sitting at her desk in the unscripted pod. She looks up from her screen with a loving smile, “Of course, is this the new editor people have been talking about?” She asks, getting out of her chair.

“Yeah, this is Cordelia. Cordelia, this is Y/N. She’s one of our unscripted producers and editor. She’s also my girlfriend.” He says, moving to the side to reveal a woman no more than 5’2” with thick curly hair and beautiful tan skin. 

She’s never really been taken aback by a woman but there is no denying how beautiful she is. “It’s nice to meet you, Cordelia.” She puts her hands out for her to shake, and the girl hesitates before shaking it. “Nice to meet you too, Spencer don’ you think we need to continue the tour?” Y/N looks at the girl shocked then looking at Spencer.

“Uh, yeah, we can just give me a minute.” He says and she walks away without another word. “Is she…did I do something?” Y/N asks, noticing the weird behavior. “I think she’s just getting used to a new setting.  I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” He assures, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

She feels her face heat up from the sweet gesture as she smiles, “Okay, whatever you, Mr. Director.” Spencer smirks at the nickname and hums as he pulls her in, “And since when do you call me that?” She shrugs as she wraps her arms around his neck and his wrap around her waist.

“I thought it’d be a nice addition.” She teases before leaning in, he leans in as well. Their lips are just centimeters away when, “Hey, Spencer, umm, really need to continue this tour.” Cordelia says, popping her head into the pod. Y/N leans her head on his shoulder as he looks at the younger girl, “I will be right there, sorry.” He apologizes and then kisses Y/N’s temple.

“Hey, I love you, and I’ll see you later. Okay?” He asks, leaning back to look at Y/N. “Yeah, I’ll see you later. I love you too.” He pecks her lips before walking out of the pod. 

What she hoped was just a first-day standoff, turns out to be a constant thing. Cordelia is nice to everyone except Y/N. Whenever the woman is in the room or close by, she always walks away or gives her the silent treatment.

Usually, she would ask Spencer about this stuff but lately, he’s been busy helping Cordelia. It seems like no matter what, she always needs help, and since Spencer was the main editor for games for so long, he’s always helping.

She’s tried so many things to get his attention but he always assures her that they can talk later, but they never do. It’s been almost a month of this going on and she’s at her wits end with it.

“Honestly, I don’t know what’s going on! He’s been so distant lately and it’s killing me because he’s always with Cordelia. I don’t know why, but something about her feels off.” She says to Angela, Chanse, Courtney, and Amanda during lunch. “Really? She’s always nice to me.” Amanda says and Y/N rolls her eyes.

“That’s why it’s weird! She’s nice to everyone but me. It’s like she has something against me and all I’ve ever done was say hi.” Courtney looks at her confused, “Do you think she might not like you because you’re Spencer’s girlfriend?” They ask.

“What? Do you think she has a crush on him or something?” She looks around the table confused. “I think she absolutely does, girl. She’s always hanging around him and I know she can edit those videos herself. I’ve seen her do it but always ‘messes up’ so Spencer can come and help.” Chanse says, crossing his arms.

“You need to talk to him. I don’t think he understands what’s going on. Have you told him how you feel about all this?” Angela asks and Y/N shakes her head. “That’s where you’re messing up. You need to tell him how this whole thing is making you feel. Spencer is one of the few guys who understands how to talk about feelings.” Angela says, looking at the woman with sincere eyes.

“Okay, I will after this upcoming shoot. That’ll finish the shoot week and he’ll be a bit less stressed.” Y/N declares before moving topics of conversation.

About an hour later, Alex Tran comes running up to Y/N in her pod. “Y/N, we need someone to take over for Chanse. He got sick and we don’t have anyone else available.” He’s breathless and a small amount of sweat is on his forehead. “Alex, did you seriously run over here from the games stage?” She asks amused while giving him a tissue to wipe the sweat off.

“Yeah, I did. Spencer said it’s an emergency so I went with our emergency backup for games videos, you.” She had agreed to be an emergency backup for gaming videos when Specner became the director of programming. She thought with how much she and him played video games then she could do well when needed.

“I’ll be right there Alex. Grab a water from my mini-fridge before you go to cool off.” He nods, leaning down to grab water before walking away and Y/N is walking behind him. He holds the door open for her and it catches the attention of everyone on the stage.

“What’s up, every pony!” Her voice announces happily, excited to be filming with her friends. “Y/N!” Shayne cheers, making her laugh. She looks over to see Spencer is over with Coredelia, talking about something and not even looking up. Her face turns into a sad expression, not used to being ignored by him. Usually, he’s the first one to notice her but it’s like she’s not even there.

She sits between Arasha and Trevor, looking at her hands and not saying anything. Trevor wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side when he sees how sad she is. “We’re playing one of your favorites, All Rise.” The game makes her smile as memories of the last time everyone played was when so many inside jokes were made. While she didn’t play herself, she was seated not too far away watching.

She hugs Trevor before sitting up, “Thanks for trying to make me feel better, Trev.” He shrugs like it’s nothing as Spencer looks up from Coredelia’s screen. “Oh, hey babe, I didn’t even hear you come in.” He walks over, kissing the top of her head before going over to the camera.

During the kiss, she looked over to Coredelia glaring at her. ‘She does have a crush on Spence!’ Y/N thinks to herself before turning to the camera. The group of Shayne. Courtney, Arasha, Trevor, and Y/N play the game full of laughs, inside jokes, new jokes made, and sweet times throughout the whole time. It helped distract Y/N from the whole thing going on with the new editor having a major crush on her boyfriend until the game was over at least.

It took no more than a minute for Spencer to call wrap and Cordelia walked over to him, “Hey, Spencie.” She says, making everyone shocked at the nickname. “Yes, Cordelia?” He asks, his voice neutral. “Can you show me how to-”

Y/N tunes out what she asks her boyfriend as she continues to sit at the table. Her fingers mess with the promise ring Spencer gave her last year on their anniversary as her mind races. “Hey, Y/N/N. We’re gonna go get some coffee. Do you wanna come with?” Arasha asks, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“No thanks, Rasha. I’ll be okay. Y’all have fun though.” The girl nods before hugging her and walking over to the group leaving the set. She continues to sit there, not noticing everyone leaving except Cordelia and Spencer. “I feel like such an idiot. I’ve been here two months and I still don’t understand this whole format.” Cordelia says, not noticing Y/N still on set.

“It’s okay. It takes time. Now that you got it taken care of, I think it’s best if you go back to the pod and finish up.” Spencer tries to get her to leave but she refuses. “Well, I wanted to talk to you about something.” She says, putting her laptop down as she stands up.

Y/N looks over confused until she sees the look on Cordelia’s face. It’s a flirty look, “Look, I know you and Y/N have been together a long time-” She starts and Y/N doesn’t hesitate to look around for something. Standing on her chair she reaches up to grab a stage light but burns her hand.

“Fuck, oh my god!” She yells, holding her hand as she starts to wobble on the chair. Cordelia and Spencer look over, and while she looks upset his face fills with worry. “Love, what did you do?!” He asks while running over to her.

Y/N doesn’t get to answer as the chair moves out from under her and she starts to fall, “Spencer!” She screams and braces for impact with the table but it doesn’t happen.

Opening her eyes, she sees her boyfriend looking like he almost saw her die. “Baby, baby, are you okay? What the hell did you do that for?!” His voice is full of concern but definitely louder than normal. Y/N doesn’t say anything, looking away from him.

“Spencer-” Cordelia starts to say before he looks at her, pissed beyond doubt. “Cordelia, you need to leave the stage right now or so help me God you will be out of here in two fucking minutes!” He yells. She doesn’t waste a second, running off the stage and leaving the couple alone. 

“Now, Y/N, tell me why you did this.” He says, looking at her hand to see how bad the burn is. “It’s nothing, I was being stupid is all.” She mutters, not wanting to admit she was jealous and trying to get his attention.

Gently grabbing her face, he makes her look at him. His blue and hazel eyes locked onto hers, “I know you're lying. Tell me, please.”

“You’ve been spending so much time with Cordelia and I got jealous. I wanted your attention so I…I did something stupid.” He looks at her amused, “Why are you jealous? She’s just some girl. You’re my girlfriend, my soulmate, the love of my life.”

“You didn’t even notice me when I walked in. You’ve barely been acknowledging my existence.” She stresses, sitting up and moving away from him a bit. “I’ve felt like I’m on a lonely island for a month and it sucks, Spence. I like being a small island with you, not alone.”

“What do you mean I’ve barely acknowledged you? It may not be as obvious but I’m always looking at you or for you. You are my every thought when I need comfort or just to feel better. Babe, you are my everything and I need you to know that.” He assures her, moving closer and moving hair away from her face.

“I’m sorry.” She apologizes, feeling like an asshole. “It’s okay, now let's get your hand taken care of then we can figure out this whole Cordelia thing.” He helps her stand up and wrap an arm around her waist.

“You know, you’re really sexy when you yell.” She says as they walk off the stage and his response is a simple smirk.

[tinywitchgoblin]

Birthday Girl

Crosshair x afab!reader (one use of she/her pronouns)

Summary: Crosshair wants to make your birthday especially memorable. 

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: SMUT, minors dni or I will hit you with my bonk stick; squirting, spanking, overstimulation, reader has a praise kink, use of a pet name (kitten), oral (fem!receiving), piv sex (wrap it up in real life y’all), I feel like Crosshair being Crosshair also counts as a warning?

a/n: my birthday is here, so have some self-indulgent birthday smut with tbb tumblr’s favorite poor little meow meow. Also, I did my best to write this so it could be interpreted with him either having both of his hands or just the one, however you choose to read it. 

This was the first birthday you celebrated since getting with Crosshair, and he was determined to make it special. You woke up to an empty bed, which upset you at first, but once you smelled breakfast being made in the kitchen, you knew you were in for a good day. 

Sliding out of bed, you stretched, waking up your tired body. Walking into the kitchen, you looked over towards the stove and saw your boyfriend scrambling some eggs with his back facing you. You walked over to him and hugged him from behind, kissing his neck. 

“Well, someone’s getting a late start this morning,” Crosshair teased, turning his head and returning your kiss. 

“Considering what day it is, I think I have the right to sleep in as much as I want,” you asserted, smiling before kissing his neck one last time and moving towards the cupboard to get some dishes to set the table. 

“I don’t think so. Sit down and let me do the work. Like you said, it’s a special day,” he smirked, turning towards you and letting you see…

“Kiss the cook?!” you exclaimed, laughing and leaning against the counter. Crosshair had donned a bright pink apron with those words emblazoned across the front in sequins. 

“What, you don’t like it?” he asked, acting mock offended and putting his hand to his chest. 

“It’s certainly… entertaining,” you chuckled, moving over to the stove to pour yourself a cup of tea. To your surprise, he didn’t move to stop you, but he kept an eye on you to make sure you didn’t try to do anything else while he finished the cooking. He set the table before bringing the food over and placing that on the table as well. 

“Cross, in all seriousness, this looks so good! I really appreciate all of this,” you fawned. He didn’t cook that much, but when he did, you enjoyed every bit of it. 

“Today is about you, and I wanted to make sure the day started off right,” he assured. Without another word, you both tucked into the food, saying little but enjoying the time together nonetheless. Once breakfast was finished, Crosshair cleaned up, once again ensuring that you didn’t do any more work than you absolutely needed to. When that was done, you both got ready for the day, and Crosshair implemented the next step of his little plan. 

He’d planned the whole day out to a t, wanting to get in as many of your favorite activities as possible without it being overwhelming or tiresome. First, he took you for a stroll through one of your favorite markets, buying you a plant you’d had your eyes on for a while now. Next was a picnic on the beach, watching the waves join calmly with the shore before slowly receding back into the ocean. After that, he took you on a hike along one of your favorite trails. That reminded you of your first date, when he’d taken you on that very same hike. You looked back on the memory with fondness. 

As the day started to fade, he took you to your next destination: dinner with his family. When you walked in the door, Wrecker pulled you into a big bear hug, wishing you a happy birthday. As you continued into the house, Omega popped out as well. 

“Happy birthday, y/n!” she exclaimed. 

“Thanks, bud! How’re you doing?” you smiled. 

“Good! I wanted to come see you earlier, but Crosshair was very specific about how he wanted your birthday to go. He wouldn’t shut up about how he wanted everything to be perfect and he loves you so much and-”

“Okay, I think that’s enough from you,” Crosshair interrupted, ruffling his sister’s hair. 

“Well, little brother, I just wanted to let y/n know why I didn’t see her earlier today.” She turned to you before adding, “It was the most I’d ever heard him talk in one sitting.” 

“Omega, be nice,” Hunter chided from his spot in the sitting room. He stood up and walked over to you, wishing you a happy birthday and pulling you into a quick hug before getting a glare from Crosshair. “Smells like dinner is almost ready, and I’m sure none of us would want to be late for that; otherwise, Wrecker might eat it all.”

“I heard that,” Wrecker called from his place in the kitchen. “But yeah, dinner’s ready!”

You all moved into the kitchen and sat around the table. You saw he’d made one of Gregor’s recipes- one you’d mentioned in passing about wanting to have again after he’d made it for you and the others once. Everyone ate their fill; even Wrecker was full by the end of it. This was followed up by some cake, and once you blew out the candles, that was devoured, too. 

After dinner was done, everyone moved back into the sitting room and gave you their gifts. Hunter gave you a wooden carving of a plant leaf, knowing how much you liked plants. Wrecker gave you a tin of your favorite sweets to take home (“and make sure Crosshair doesn’t get into them”, queuing another glare). Omega gave you a painting she’d done of you and the boys, plus Batcher. Speaking of Batcher, she didn’t really have a gift, but she gave you lots of love all the same. 

Once everything was done, you bid everyone a good night, and you and Crosshair went back home. Opening the door, he said, “Go wait in the bedroom. I have a surprise for you.” You could see the twinkle in his eyes, and knew he had something special in store for you. He sat down on the bed and handed you a box. “Open it,” he urged, and you did. You pulled out a beautiful set of lingerie in your favorite color, and it was soft and enticing. 

“I think I got the size right, but if not, I’m sure we can figure out what fits,” he shrugged. 

“Only one way to find out,” you smiled, heading into the fresher to put it on. Crosshair had no reason to worry- it fit perfectly. You waltzed out, leaning against the wall, asking, “Well? How do I look?”

He stared at you in awe for a moment before responding, “Absolutely stunning.” You blushed before making your way over to him, plopping yourself in his lap. He pulled you into his arms, finding your lips and kissing you lovingly. Sure, he was being gentle now, but you knew that was about to change. As you’d predicted, his kisses got needier and hungrier, grasping at whatever body parts he could reach. Eventually landing on your ass, he gave you a tight squeeze, drawing a moan out of you. You knew that his favorite part of your body was your ass, and you had no objections to the love he showed it- and the rest of your body. 

“I have a challenge for you, if you think you’re up for it,” he said breathlessly, pulling away from your lips. 

“And what would that be?” you questioned, running your fingers through his short silvery hair. 

“One spanking for each year of your age,” Crosshair smirked. “And you have to count them out loud. After that… you decide. And you need to tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

“Why do I get the feeling that this is as much a gift for you as it is for me?” you teased. “But either way, I accept. How do you want me?”

“You know how I want you,” he murmured, a darkness coming over his eyes. He sat back so you could lay stomach down on his lap, resting your head on the comforter. Rubbing a hand against the swell of your ass, he asked, “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes, I want this, please,” you begged, already getting desperate and grinding your hips against his lap in an attempt to get some friction against the heat pooling between your legs. His hand came down, the smack ringing throughout the room. “One,” you counted, though it came out as more of a moan than an actual word. 

“Well done, kitten,” Crosshair praised, bringing his hand down again. 

“Two,” you breathed. This is going to be more difficult than I thought it would be, you thought to yourself. He kept going, and you kept counting, but as you continued, it became harder for you to concentrate on counting. When you got to eighteen, he had to prompt you to keep counting. “Remember, kitten? I said you had to count each one out loud. You haven’t already forgotten, have you?” he teased. 

“Eighteen,” you responded, barely more than a whisper. He kept going, prompting you twice more before you finished the set. By that point, you were a whimpering mess, ass red with handprints and wetness flooding the little bit of cloth covering your pussy. He helped you off of his lap, laying you down on the bed. Crosshair climbed on top of you, kissing you and praising, “Well done, y/n. I’m so proud of you.” Your only response was a moan into his mouth as he leaned down and claimed your mouth, dominating the kiss and leaving you even more breathless. 

“Now, do you remember what comes next?” he asked. 

“Me, hopefully,” you joked. 

“Yes, but you have to tell me exactly what you want. And I mean exactly. I won’t do anything you don’t tell me to do. Use me as you see fit,” demanded. You lay there, with him laying kisses on your neck before you responded, “I want your mouth.”

“Where, kitten?” he prompted. Again, it took you a bit to respond. 

“On my pussy,” you breathed. 

“As you wish,” Crosshair smiled, traveling down your body, moving the lingerie to the side, and placing his lips right above your wetness. “Now, what should I do with my mouth on your pussy?”

“Eat me out,” you whined. He finally acquiesced, setting to work. Your hips jolted against his face, rutting against him, your body begging for more. 

“More.” He obeyed, giving more stimulation. At this point, you had a hand on the back of his head, pushing him even further into your pussy. 

“Add a finger.” Smirking, he slid a slender finger inside you, earning a drawn-out moan. However, once the finger was inside, he kept it still. Apparently, he wanted you to be more specific. 

“Finger me, please,” you begged, and once he started curling his finger against your g-spot. You were trembling, getting closer to the precipice by the second. 

“Another finger,” you gasped, “and keep fingering me.” Another finger joined the first, and that was all it took. You felt your body seize up, climbing higher and higher before it all broke. You felt as if every nerve in your body had been set on fire, your very being burning with pleasure. However, even as you descended into oversensitivity, Crosshair didn’t stop. Continuing to wring pleasure out of your body, all you could do was lay there, taking what he gave you. As he continued, you felt a new sensation bubbling inside of you, and when you came again, the dam burst. Crosshair’s face became drenched as you squirted, pulling even more pleasure out of you than you ever thought possible. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore, and you pushed him away, begging him to stop.

After letting you take a minute for your mind to return to your body, he chuckled, “Well, I’ve never seen you do that before.”

“I didn’t know I had it in me,” you panted, still coming down from your high. Crosshair crawled up your body, littering kisses along the way. “You really did mean specific, huh?”

“Of course I did,” he laughed. “What would you like next?” 

Looking deep into his lust-blown eyes, your next two words had him burning: “Fuck me.” 

He tore his now-wet clothing off, along with gently removing the lingerie from your body. He flipped you over, pressing your body into the mattress before sliding into you. Once he made sure you weren’t in pain, he pulled out and slammed back in, hitting every single part inside of you that only he could reach. He was big, and he knew how to use it. He plowed into you, fucking you right into the mattress. You could hardly breathe, but that was the furthest thing from your mind. All you could focus on was the feeling of him ramming into you, surely leaving bruises he’d admire in the morning. Sex with Crosshair was always amazing, but tonight was something else entirely. Knowing that he took so much pleasure in pleasing you, in giving you exactly what you wanted, made it that much better. Once again, you felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten. 

“Getting close, kitten?” Crosshair grunted in between thrusts, and all you could do was nod. Sliding a hand underneath you, he circled two dexterous fingers on your clit, and before long, you came undone again. He continued, chasing his own high as you writhed underneath him. After a few more thrusts, he buried himself inside you, finishing inside your tight, wet heat. He held you tight to him, rolling the two of you onto your sides. Running a hand up your side, you lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow. 

Eventually, Crosshair slowly pulled out, placing a kiss to the side of your head before getting up to grab some water and a small snack. You always got the munchies after sex, especially intense sex like this. He also grabbed a damp cloth to clean your body with and a spare set of bedding so that neither of you had to sleep on a wet patch. 

Once you were cleaned up and he had changed the bedding, the two of you cuddled in the bed, with him on his back and you curled into his side. “Thank you… for all of this. It means so much to me, and I love you so much,” you murmured. 

“I love you too, y/n,” he responded, laying one more kiss on your forehead before you drifted off to sleep, him not far behind. He was certainly successful in his mission; you would remember this birthday for a long time.

-

Thanks for reading! If you want to check out some of my other stuff, check out my masterlist, and don't forget to reblog 💚

[featherandferns]

day 8/24 - obx christmas countdown

‘Tell me baby, do you recognise me? Well, it’s been a year, it doesn’t surprise me’ - Wham!, Last Christmas | angst | jj maybank x ex!kook!fem!reader

The country club was donned in green and gold. Every room had at least two Christmas trees, trimmed with golden tinsel and ruby red decor and designer baubles and ornaments. Garlands were wound around the staircases and intricate paper chains that looked as though angels themselves might have created them hung in every room around the window frames. It was dark outside and cold with December chills but the building shone like the northern star. JJ couldn’t care less though. The jazz covers of Christmas classics were nothing more than buzzing in his ear. The strong smell of champagne and cinnamon and dried orange and roasted chestnuts were nauseating. The whimsical, warm glow of the fairy lights only fuelled the fire in his heart. The fire that started to burn the moment he laid his eyes on you. 

You’re sitting at the dinner table dressed in an emerald green glittery dress. Your hair falls in perfect ringlets around your beautiful face, flawless from blemish. A face that haunts JJ’s dreams. A face that’s now nothing more than a phantom of his memories. The ruby red lips lift with an easy smile and you laugh melodically at something Kelce says. And then JJ watches as your hand sinks onto Topper’s like falling snow, softly enveloping his hand with yours, and JJ can almost feel the warmth of your palm on his skin. Remembers how it felt to have your fingers trace his face, sweeping over his cheeks like he was something expensive. Like he was something valuable to you. 

“Merry Christmas,” JJ smiles. 

You gasp angelically as he offers out a small box. It’s wrapped in blue and silver paper. There’s a wonky bow that’s fighting to stay stuck atop of the gift. It’s nothing impressive but JJ took his time whittling the ornament that you carefully retrieve. Your smile is one of awe as you take in the intricate design. He’s mesmerised by your eyes as they trace over the wooden angel; the Christmas tree lights reflect on your irises. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper. There’s something in the look that you lay onto JJ that has his heart stirring. He feels like a pre-teen having his first kiss all over again when you lean over to kiss him on his tattered old sofa. His hands go clammy and his cheeks grow warm and his heart wants to break and beat right out of his chest. Your breath is warm and sweet from candy as you quietly speak a hair’s width from his lips. “Thank you. I’ll treasure it forever.”

The tray in his hands feels light as a feather as JJ stands and stares. He keeps his distance from you - has been all night - and watches from across the room, stealing glances, trying to see if you’ve noticed him. Trying to see if you care. A part of him is angry. He feels cheated. Hell, he was. A part of him wants to march right up to you and force you to meet his gaze. To ask you if you recognise him, in some rhetorical quip. After all, it’s been a year - it wouldn’t surprise him. 

But there’s a longing there too. It lingers as JJ does his rounds of the tables of the country club’s Christmas party, as he tops up champagne flutes with the fizzy wine. An urge to ask you if you remember last Christmas. If you remember the handmade present and the sleepless nights and the tryst-filled mornings and the conversations that roamed far and wide in topic and scope. If you remember how it felt to be seen and to see him, and if you remember the feeling of the walls breaking down from kook to Pogue, until you were nothing more than a boy and a girl, falling in love. At least, that’s what he thought. Now, watching you sit pretty as a Magnolia in May, decorated like some gingerbread house, giggling and grinning amongst your peers in their designer threads: now it feels laughable to think that JJ Maybank had fallen in love with you. It’s hysterical that he thought you might be able to love him too. 

But as JJ walks past party-goers dressed in his work attire, he loses himself in a daydream. One of you rising from your seat and seeking him out in the corridors. He can practically smell your perfume as your hand reaches for his cheek; can recall the feel of your cool rings against his skin as you guide his lips to yours. If you kissed him tonight without an apology, JJ knows deep down how easily he’d fall under that spell again. 

His friends were right. Pogues and Kooks don’t belong together. To save himself from tears, he oughta give his heart to someone more fitting. Not just that - he oughta give his heart to someone special. 

Your eyes finally catch JJ’s. He can’t help but freeze. He holds your gaze. His lips don’t move, staying steady set in their half-frown, and he waits. Waits for some flash of recognition. Some flash of understanding. Of sympathy, for him having to see you with your kook boyfriend on what was almost the anniversary of what JJ had once marked as the most treasured day of his life. JJ stands still and unchanging as he watches your eyes break away from his gaze. They latch back onto someone sitting across the table from you. He feels as if he’s hallucinating as you laugh at something someone says. He feels like he’s the butt of the joke.

To think, he thought you were someone to rely on. Maybe all JJ had ever been was a shoulder for you to cry on. A vessel for you to pour your worries and fears into, of living a life lacking in adventure and passion. It seems to him, standing here in the country club, a waiter and an attendee, that you’re rather comfortable in your world. A world that JJ would never be a part of. A world that he never would want to be a part of, either. 

“Screw this,” JJ mumbles. He ditches the bottle of champagne on some random table and ignores the complaints of the guests. He nudges his way through the gaggles of guests until he gets to the door. Screw this and screw you. He’ll find someone else. Maybe, one day, he will. 

As he’s about to pass through the doorway towards the staff room, JJ falters. Sighing, hanging his head, he can’t help but take one last look to your table. 

You’re looking right at him. His lips part in surprise. 

There’s a heaviness in your eyes. A sadness, deep and longing, that tugs on his heart just as it would have done a year ago. Back when JJ knew you. Your lips part as if you might mouth something. But then they close and you purse them together. Instead, you just stare at him. And somehow, someway, JJ knows what that look means. Last Christmas was a thing of the past; as fickle and passing as a Hallmark movie. JJ gives a subtle nod and turns away, and he pushes open the door to the staff room, closing it on your world. 

He’ll try and look for someone more fitting. Maybe he will find someone who suits his life and who makes sense in his poverty stricken, abuse-soaked life. But they’ll never be as special as you were.

[cjlouwho]

I don´t think that both (Ryan or Oliver) ever said that Buck and Eddie are just friends when they get asked about Buddie. They both talk around it, imply it, Ryan came close with confirming Eddie is straight but neither of them ever said "there is no romantic or sexual relationship between them and there are not plans, I know off, that there will be" It´s the politcians way of conducting interviews and it´s why I hardly read celebrity interviews. If you can´t answer questions based on canon then I don´t know why I should listen to you. I always hear that they can´t deny anything because they don´t know what will happen but that is such a cop out, I feel. They can focus on the present and say that Buck and Eddie are not in love with each other. That is canon at the moment. Yes, it may not shut up Buddies but it absolutely WILL shut up the interviewer in that moment. There is no room left to further any Buddie conversation when the interview subject straight up said NO

Ryan has said Eddie is straight multiple times, they’ve both talked about the importance of showing male friendship (specifically between a straight man and a queer man). Oliver explicitly stated he didn’t want to fall into the trope of “friend realizes he’s gay and falls for his best friend”. Oliver most recently stated that his character’s bisexuality has nothing to do with Eddie or Tommy.

They’ve both been to media training. They know if they said “never gonna happen, let it go for the love of God!!” They’d have so much shit to deal with it wouldn’t be worth it. They’d get death threats galore, and there would still be people saying “they’re lying cause they can’t tell the truth!! Buddie canon season 9!!” They’d be accused of queerbaiting (which already drove Oliver off twitter), and being homophobic (something that Lou has been accused of, which, like, seriously???)

It’s not that they haven’t said it’s not gonna happen, it’s that certain fans and journalists refuse to listen to what they are saying and believe everything has a hidden meaning when it, in fact, does not. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[firestorm09890]

stray canto vii part 1 thoughts (warning: long)

so many cool new designs!! it made me realize how few of interest we got in Canto VI. Then almost everything was pretty standard (classic maid and butler outfits, lots of suits, Cathy had a fancy dress at least? and everything was brown. yes I know, T Corp color drain, but still. and Öufi came before season 3 ended so that didn’t count), but this time we have Camille, the P Corp guys, Fanghunt Office, Hugo I guess, Hong Lu’s sister, the firefist guy? if he counts? he barely appeared, Sansón, and all the fancy dressed up bloodfiends. woo babey!!

speaking of Jia Xichun, I like her! She’s cute! I didn’t expect to see anyone related to Hong Lu, but in retrospect I probably should’ve, since his turn is next and his family is massive. I hope nothing bad happens to her. I've never read Dream of the Red Chamber

also speaking of Hugo, lol. lmao. when he was talking about pressing the button to get the reward I was like “oh hopkins 2, got it” and then Ryōshū sliced off his hands so I guess… not hopkins 2

ALSO the blonde Fanghunt guy is named Romero, which is apparently the name of a character in Vampire: The Masquerade. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was an intentional reference

Sinclair cursing that one guy out was so awesome. I remember when Canto V part 2 came out and he censored himself saying “Bitch Brother” people were worried that the new translators were making him softer than he actually was, but, nah, he tries his best to be a polite boy but when he’s actually genuinely pissed off he does not hold back. Ryōshū correcting him BUT THEN SAYING HIS INTERPRETATION WAS GOOD absolutely killed me. my son demands respect

it’s a good day to be a Leviathan fan

The scripted loss encounter was so cool. They set you to level 45 no matter what level your LCB Don is, and take away all your EGO except the base (which you can’t even use), and I don’t know how far you can actually get in this fight because I flipped tails every single time and lost every clash

let’s talk about the Barber! leave it to Project Moon to look at the character who didn’t have very much of a personality who stuck around with the priest and attempted multiple plans to bring Don Quixote back home so he could become sane again (and burned a bunch of Quixote’s chivalry books, also with the priest), and turned him into an insane vampire woman with big scissors and a shrill cackle who stitches masks onto people’s faces.

interesting choice to have Sancho and Dulcinea both named in a single line and then not acknowledged or mentioned again

Sansón! so based on his story log portrait background being bisexual, the blue name, and him resembling someone in Demian’s group in the Limbus Company PV, I feel confident saying he’s part of Demian’s Group. The spot where his Sign would be is covered by his mask, though, so no one in-universe knows

I think this is why Sinclair was cast in the role of the Knight of the White Moon: he also has the sign, which Sansón (who is the Knight of the White Moon) would be able to see, and even if other sinners have it too, they’re not Demian’s special guy. everyone else, though, seemed to be cast in the most humiliating role possible: horse to be ridden for Gregor, wild animal for Heathcliff, random peasant for Rodya, presumably homeless old person for Outis

ok Sansón. in the book, he’s a young college student who read the first part of Don Quixote and, in part 2, approaches Quixote saying he’s a big fan and encouraging him to go back out and do more knight stuff. However, he actually just thinks Don Quixote’s antics are very amusing and isn’t actually an earnest supporter, and is conspiring with the barber and priest to get Quixote back home to stay. the way they (priest and barber try to bring him home in part 1 is by tricking him with an adventure that’s conveniently in the same direction as their home village, but then they get sidetracked in an inn for a long time so they just put him in a cage and drive him home. in part 2, they want to play on Quixote’s terms for a more effective result. near the beginning of the second part, they have Sansón dress as a knight (called the Knight of Mirrors/Knight of the Forest. these titles have no significance in the book but apparently the mirror thing forces Quixote to see himself as the frail old man he is in Man of La Mancha), say his lady is fairer than Dulcinea to get Don Quixote to duel him, and then make Quixote promise to stay home for a year when he loses. however, Sansón is the one who loses, because he wasn’t expecting Quixote to actually be good at jousting. Later, near the very end, which iirc is 3 months after the first encounter, another knight called the Knight of the White Moon issues the exact same challenge to Don Quixote (it’s just Sansón again, and "White Moon" has no significance in the original book either), but this time Sansón wins, so Don Quixote goes home, dejected, and then becomes “sane” again and dies.

Since this Sansón is part of Demian’s group, I don’t think his intentions will be the same- the Barber was a bloodfiend, and he sees beyond the ambitions of the bloodfiends now- but it’s fun to know how he is in the source nonetheless

I really like how he didn’t show up after the Barber’s defeat to say something cryptic and then leave, he told us quite a bit, and though his methods were… questionable, he DID force the sinners to actually finally pay attention to Don Quixote

speaking of the stage play, I like the juxtaposition between Sansón’s play and the Barber’s. in a different context, what Sansón did might’ve been framed as horrifying, and we’d be talking about how uncanny and unreal this is, but I don’t think that’s the intention here. the sinners might be playing roles, and all the enemies are cardboard cutouts, but it’s better than putting targets on real people (though I guess they’re not “people”, they’re bad, bad, bloodfiends). the cheerful music in La Manchaland is distorted and out of place, while the stage play is nice in comparison. the music for the talking sections is a bit too upbeat for the situation, but the music during the battles really immerses you. guitar! trumpet! maraca! this music is clearly composed to emulate spanish music, and it’s very earnest, which I think is important, with how easily music sets tone in media.

in both cases, Don Quixote is in a delusion. nothing in the stage play of her adventures is real, but she’s also completely wrapped up in the narrative of evil bloodfiends without the knowledge that she is one. a violent nightmare and a peaceful dream, both of which she needs to wake up from.

they both do this thing with black-and-white thinking, too. there’s a difference between the “good” bloodfiends, which you should get along with, and the “bad” ones, which you need to kill (though Don sees them both as bad), and then the bandits in the stage play are cartoonishly evil and love to bully the weak. except it seems the first is the narrative the Barber wanted to sell, while the second is Don Quixote’s reality… I mean, the play is definitely inaccurate, but we’ve seen how Don behaves

if you follow me for kingdom hearts and are for some reason reading this you know how much I love Nobodies in kh. people who used to be human, but aren’t anymore, who look close enough but are different on an intrinsic and physiological level, that everyone automatically treats as unreasonable monsters that need to die when they’re more complicated than that… I love it so much, I’m cheering and clapping whenever bloodfiend morality is brought up. Moses said that Larierre was cordial and offered her a place to sit and talk, but then also said bloodfiends are insatiably hungry and you shouldn’t underestimate them. agh I love it

also THE MUSIIIIIC every fight theme so far has been a banger. songs that were already good but with typical carnival instruments, big brass swing, the aforementioned nice spanish music, and the fucked up and evil sequel to dubstep electroswing featuring evil laughter

and finally, the helm of mambrino. in early part 1 of Don Quixote, he sees a barber (COMPLETELY unrelated barber to the other barber btw) carrying a basin on his head, and thinks it’s the amazing mystical Helm of Mambrino, so he attacks the barber and steals the basin. Don Quixote wears it as a helmet a few times and everyone thinks it looks really stupid. they did not fight a bear for it, nor did they go into a cave. idk what this might actually be in the City. either we’ll see or we won’t

[kurishiri]

alfons sylvatica . . . route preview

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: a small sexual scene (that could be dub-con).

My sin is——a happy illusion.

Alfons: Now, let go of all that which scares you... how about we indulge ourselves in pleasure now?

Alfons Sylvatica. While donning a gentlemanly façade, the immorality that lingered in the air could not be concealed...

He was much like a walking nightmare.

—— Scene ——

Jude: Damn, ya got taken to bedfordshire already? My sincere condolences.

Kate: T-that’s not what happened!

Alfons: How very cruel... and after we exchanged such passionate kisses, you would insist that was naught but a mere fling...?

Kate: Gh... weren’t you the one who made me a mere fling of yours!?

Liam: Ah.

Harrison: Oh man...

Ellis: She admitted it.

Kate: ——!?

Alfons: Pfft, ahaha!

A: Hah... you truly are second to none, Miss Kate.

—— Scene end ——

—— Scene ——

Kate: Mn, sto...ah, uhh... n-no...

Alfons: ...Aha, your lips say to ‘stop,’ and yet you’re quite wet here now.

A: Would it perhaps be safe to assume that when you were on my heels from the pub, you were anticipating this?

—— Scene end ——

Behind the pub, within a carriage, at the shower room, at his room——

It mattered not if it was day or night, he would always intoxicate me with a convenient illusion and drown me in pleasure.

In such ways, he would encroach upon my everyday, painting over the fear I felt from missions, the uncertainty of the dark night, anything and everything.

Alfons: Life is but a tragedy, after all. And so, we require an escape, or entertainment, so to speak. Such is the case, is it not?

Utterly ridiculous and a good-for-nothing; villainous and insincere at best, he was a man who relished in others’ reactions and pleasurable sensations.

And yet——

—— Scene ——

(I get the feeling that Alfons is smiling, and yet he’s not at the same time… at least, I think.)

Kate: Is this really fun for you…?

Roger: What, you’re worried for Al, lil lady?

Kate: I-it’s not as though I’m worried.

—— Scene end ——

—— Scene ——

Kate: Hey, don’t get too over the top!

Alfons: Oh, but that was hardly my intention, for I was simply assessing your sincerity, you see.

(I-I swear, this man…!)

Alfons: Aww… you truly are a darling one, aren’t you.

—— Scene end ——

The reason he plastered an apathetic smile and indulged in nightly pleasures, the genuine smile he would occasionally show me,

and his illusory “truth,” which seemed to distance itself the moment my fingertips grazed its surface… I wanted to know it all, almost to a hopeless extent.

——But, by the time I realized, I had already gone beyond the point of no return.

Even though I knew that I would only get hurt.

—— Scene ——

Alfons: People are meant to die, without exception.

Kate: …But, wouldn’t you find it unpleasant to die in a place like this, having covered for me?

Alfons: Never did I say that.

A: No matter at what time, in what place, and for what purpose I die, is this not simply an ending you could find anywhere else?

(Just why do you live like this?)

—— Scene end ——

—— Scene ——

Kate: Why… are you doing these things…?

K: All I wanted was to like you, and be by your side… and yet…

Alfons: …Because I find it a nuisance.

—— Scene end ——

No matter how much I tried to push it aside, I could not bury this love to the grave.

Because I had ended up knowing the “tragic fate” he was dealt with, the reason he lived such a decadent life——and,

the truth that laid in his heart, the one not even he himself knew.

—— Scene ——

Alfons: Truly, in every sense of the word, you are a fool.

A: Alright, fine, I understand now. I admit my defeat.

A: I will give up… on making you give up, that is.

Kate: …Wait, Alfo—

Alfons: Let us put an end to this now, so we do not pour more salt into the wound.

—— Scene end ——

It was a love where, even while being crushed to pieces by this merciless reality,

I chased after him, over and over, though he slipped through my fingers like an illusion.

Was such an ending a cliché tragedy one could find anywhere else? Or perhaps——

Alfons: However foolish you may be, I am just as much so.

A: Well, if you say so, it cannot be helped.

A: By all means, let me be the one to drive you to insanity… and make you regret it all.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, show me not a dream I long to see.

Lay your truth down here before me,

lest upon this love an illusion shall befall. [1]

first. next →

NOTES:

[1] the original lines are [鏡よ鏡、都合のいい夢を見せないで] (kagami yo kagami, tsugō no ī yume wo misenaide) / [あなたの真実を教えて] (anata no shinjitsu wo oshiete) / [この愛がーー幻になる前に] (kono ai ga maboroshi ni naru mae ni). this literally translates to: “mirror, oh mirror, don’t show me a convenient dream. / tell me your truth. / before this love becomes an illusion.”

masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia @.comment or dm to be added or removed!

[arisewanekosuki]

You heard someone calling your name. When you turned around, you saw Kabukimono running towards you, he was wearing different clothes from his regular silky ones. Not only that but he and his clothes were very dirty. -“Kabu-chan?! What happened?!” you asked, already taking your handkerchief  to scrub the dirt from his face. -“(Y/n)! Today Nagamasa-san teached me how to use sword! From now on I’ll be able to protect you and others!” Kabukimono looked so proud of himself, his face was adorned with big smile. “I still have to train everyday and I wanted to ask…” his cheeks became slightly red. “..Would you… would you come sometimes to watch my training?” He was avoiding eye contact with you and you couldn’t help but think how adorable he looked right now. -”Of course I will! Tomorrow, when I finish my work, I’ll came to watch you, alright?” You smiled to him, scrubbing the last dirt from his lovely face. The boy nodded, feeling very happy, he can’t really wait to impress you tomorrow. His smile grew wider and you couldn't help but think about kissing him on the cheek and you did. You kissed his right cheek and suddenly you realize what you did and took step back from him. -“I’m so sorry, Kabu-chan! I don’t know why I… Did I make you uncomfortable?” you asked, watching him as he placed his hand on cheek that you kissed. He never felt this way before but it wasn’t a bad feeling, no, he was feeling so warm inside. -“What was it?” he asked, he was surprised but at the same time he felt excitement. -“Um..that was a kiss-” -“Can you do that again?” you were shocked with his bold request but then smiled and kissed his another cheek, then forehead and then the nose. The puppet’s face blushed, it was his first time to feel being loved like that by another person.

 The 6th Harbinger was lying on the lab table. You were terrified of what The Doctor did to his fellow comrade. -“I know this is not your job but clean this mess. I lost my last assistant  and you..hm.. you don’t really have anything better to do anyway, right?” Dottore grinned. -“Lord Dottore but what should I do with-“ -“Just leave him be, his flesh and skin will regenerate itself.” With that said, the 2nd Harbinger left you with unconscious Scaramouche in the room. You do have work, there are still soldiers that you have to take care of, but you can’t refuse a Harbinger command, after all you’re just a healer. -“How cruel…” you only heard rumors of sick things the 2nd Harbinger have done to his assistants and agents but until now, you didn't truly believed the rumors. How can anyone treat living beings like this?! The first thing you did, was to take chains off from Scaramouche’s wrists, not caring about substance, that looked almost like blood on table and floor. Suddenly he grabbed your wrist, he was now looking at you. -“Do…t… to….me..” You couldn't understand what he was saying. -“Lord Balladeer, please forgive me, I just wanted to take off this from Lord’s wrists.” He let you go, you were not sure if he did that to let you take them off or because he didn't have strength left. You took the chains off, then you looked at him, his eyes were so empty. -“ Lord Balladeer, maybe at least I should-“ -“k..t…e..” he whispered. -“I’m truly sorry Lord but I couldn’t hear you.” His eyes met yours. -“Don..t… lo…ok… at…me…” You didn’t know what to do. Normal human wouldn’t be able to survive whatever the Doctor did to him. You couldn’t just leave him like this, but what can you do for him? He is in such bad state that you can see clearly the lack of heart in his chest. -“Hu..rts…e…ve..ry….thi…g….hu..s..” he mumbled. -“…” you took his hand in yours, he jolted for second from sudden touch but didn't take his hand from yours. “I will stay with you my Lord, until you recover. I’m truly sorry, that I can’t take your pain away but if there’s anything I can do for you, just tell me.” He didn't reply. You wondered if he lost consciousness again. You placed delicate kiss on his hand, the tears flowed from his eyes. For the first time he felt a bit of warmth in this cold nation.

-“Oh isn’t it Hat Guy? Hello!” you smiled to Wanderer, who grimaced after hearing you call him by that ‘name’ too. -“Why are you calling me like that?” -“Hm? You’re the one who went with that name on The Akademiya Extravaganza, aren’t you?” you tilted your head, confused why he seems to be angry for calling him that. -“It was-- … never mind. Just don’t call me that.” He said, not looking at you. You smiled coming to him closer. -“So…do you have any plans for today?” -“Hmpf, I know this is not what you really wanted to ask me. Just tell me already what you want.” -“Okay! Okay! Remember those students that dragged us to their cooking interest group? I’m going to join them again! Would you like to jo-“ -“No.” Wanderer said, turning around like he’s ready to just leave you. You caught his sleeve. -“Don't be like that! You’re really good at cooking! And it was fun to co-“ -“You didn’t cook anything, I was the one who made all the dishes.” He interrupted you again, still with his back turned toward you. -“Stop interrupting me-!” you pouted, puffing your cheeks. -“Just deal with it.” He smirked -“Why you! Please! I love your cooking! The food you made was so delicious! Please!! I want to eat it again! Please!” now you were holding onto his arm. The puppet sighed, he can’t believe that for some reason he doesn’t mind when you touch him.   -“Consider yourself lucky, that I don’t have anything better to do.” -“So you mean-“ -“Let’s just go.” He started walking. You smiled, glad that you can spend some more time with him. You ran in front of him, stopping him in his track. -“I knew it that you’re not that bad!” -“You’re naive if you think that I-“ before he could finish his sentence you kissed his cheek. Then you just smiled and ran off screaming -“I’m going to eat Hat Guy's delicious dishes again!” Wanderer was stunned, then he put his hand on his red cheek you kissed, he was feeling warm. He quickly noticed that you already left Sumeru City. -“That idiot…” he smiled and he ran after you.

--- I really want to shower the little meow meow with kisses (๑•̑з•̑๑)੭ु⁾⁾

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Lisichka

Request: Hii ! I hope it's okay to request Tartaglia and (a very shy) childhood!reader reuniting after many years and pining for one another? Reader knows him very well so they're not rlly shy around him...until they developed a crush on him. Which makes them timid and mildly awkward around him, and it really shows more and more. I had a thought of what if Tartaglia also has a crush on them around the same time? I hope this is okay and have a good one! ♡

Summary: Tartaglia returns home after fighting the narwhal. You try to avoid him, unwilling to face your crush after so many years, but he manages to meet with you anyway.

Note: Lisichka means little fox

cw: none

Word Count: 1081

Tartaglia x gn!reader

“Have you heard? Ajax is back.”

You’re walking around the local market when you catch wind of the first rumors. The speaker--one of the old women who spend every market day discussing everything from local drama to the contents of this month's delivery of various newspapers--speaks in a hushed voice.

“That’s only news, Marya. My husband has already been to Lev and Anya’s place. Ajax looked pretty beat up.”

If Marya’s question hadn’t caught your attention, the second speaker would have. 

You lift your groceries and approach Marya and Elizaveta.

“Ajax is back?”

Elizaveta gives you a measuring look. “I’m surprised you didn’t know. You spent so much time with the boy before Lev sent him off to join the Fatui.”

“You mean until they started avoiding him.?”

“Yes, yes. And blushing like---”

“I’ve been helping around my grandparent’s house,” you blurt. “So no, I hadn’t heard.”

Elizaveta chuckles. “In that case, yes, Ajax has come home. You should go visit him. I’m sure you’ll make his day.”

“I’m not sure he’d remember me.”

“Nonsense. I’d put money on the opposite being true.”

You sigh and tighten your scarf around your neck. “I’ll think about it. But I still have shopping to do. Have a good day, Mrs. Marya, Mrs. Elizaveta.”

Several days later, you walk up the path to Ajax’s home, a heavily wrapped pot of soup cradled in your arms.

A boy with a shock of red hair sits on the porch with a toy ruin guard in hand.

“Good day, Teucer. Is your mother around?”

Teucer looks up and grins. “Big Brother! Y/N is here!”

“Teucer,” you groan, “I’m not here to see Ajax. In fact, please give this to your mother. Tell her Katia sends her regards and that we hope Ajax gets well soon.”

You place the soup next to Teucer and hurries back down the path.

This was such a bad idea, you think to yourself. I can’t ever keep a straight face when he’s concerned.

Ajax steps out of the house, smiling into the collar of his thick, woolen coat.

Unbeknownst to you, the young harbinger watched the entire thing.

He picks up the soup and looks down at Teucer. “Did you say thank you?”

“I didn’t have a chance,” Teucer pouts. “Why are they acting so weird?”

Tartaglia laughs. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

A few days later, you find yourself sitting on the bank of a lake. 

You keep your eyes trained on the hole you made and the line disappearing into the water.

This is the only place in town where there aren’t curious looks and questions about Ajax’s health. It’s the one place where you don;t have to be reminded that after so many years of being his friend, you’re now too cowardly to meet him face to face.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t hear the snow crunch behind you, though the footsteps are soft enough that it could be any small animal.

“Lisichka, Lisichka. Are you done running from me?”

The familiar nickname startles you out of your reverie.

You turn, ever so slowly, to find a pair of bright blue eyes twinkling at you.

“I never ran from you.”

Ajax sits next to you. “Are you sure about that, Lisichka? I recall that before I left to join Fatui, you wouldn’t look me in the eye. And I saw you run from my house the other day.”

“I---”

“Got a bite yet?” Ajax changes the topic of conversation, much to your relief.

“No. Not yet. Though I might not, now that your pretty face is here.”

“If a pretty face is all it takes to scare off the fish, you must never catch a thing.”

You open your mind to reply, only for your brain to finally register your words and his reply.

“I--- How are you feeling, Ajax? I heard you were hurt.”

This time you’re the one to change topics, though you’re certain he’s aware that it’s a desperate attempt to keep from addressing the proverbial bear in the room.

Tartaglia holds out a hand and you frown at the clear tremor. “Fontaine was a little rough,” he admits. “I don’t recommend fighting a whale for a couple months.”

“A whale? How do you fight a whale?”

“Not easily. And I lost miserably. I don’t like Fontaine’s Iudex--though I want to fight him again one day---, but I’m not sure I’d have survived if he and the traveler hadn’t intervened.”

“You were never careful with yourself,” you comment. “Even less so after your three day disappearance.”

Ajax huffs. “This wasn’t my fault. There was a lot of weird stuff going on.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure. You know you go looking for trouble and when you aren’t it has a habit of finding you.”

“You know me so well, my Lisichka.”

“I thought we were too old for pet names like that, Ajax.”

“Says who? You were my Lisichka when we were kids. Why can’t you be now?” 

You raise your eyes to the sky, where the constellations lay hidden.

“Because if you keep using pet names like that, I’m going to get the impression that you’re not just a childhood friend.”

Ajax reaches over and cups your cheek, turning your face so that your eyes meet his. “If you did I would be awfully happy. I’ve been trying to get your attention for years.”

“You mean…”

“Silly fox, I have liked you for a while now.”

“I bet I’ve liked you longer.”

“You wanna bet?”

Tartaglia tosses your fishing rod to the side and opens his arms to you. “Will you be mine?”

You let him pull you close, brows furrowing when the movement makes him stiffen. You rest a hand on his shoulder, feeling the bandages that deform his sweater.

“Of course, but please, please be more careful.”

“I love you, Lisichka, but I can’t make that promise.”

“I know. It was worth asking.”

As you start to doze in the safety, you can’t help but ask, “Why Lisichka?”

Ajax laughs, smiling into your hair. “Because, a teenage me had no other way to flirt with his best friend and you looked so cute playing in the snow.”

You join him in laughter. “I guess you win.”

“Oh?”

“I started running from you because I realized that I wanted it to be more.”

You yawn, eyes fluttering shut.

“Sleep, Lisichka. I will be here when you wake.”

[justharmie]

Some more Sukuna x Toji because... why not?

Toji grunted as he finished his last pull-up. At the same time, he heard the gym door open. He ignored it, knowing who it was, and proceeded to grab his water bottle off the floor for a drink.

“Doing a late night work-out?” asked Sukuna, his adversary from the other sports team, who somehow managed to infiltrate their private gym, yet again. It was late, almost 9:00pm, but that was no excuse for the poor security of this university.

Toji squeezed his water bottle, but refused to let his anger show. “Yeah, and I wasn’t hoping for an audience.”

Sukuna snickered. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’ll be quiet. I promise.”

Toji turned around. Sukuna was leaning against the wall with his hands buried in his pockets. He was donned in a casual white T-shirt and jeans, showing off his muscular, tattooed arms. There was a smug look on his face, like he had no intention of leaving.

Toji’s teeth gritted together. For the past month, Sukuna had been making it a habit to bother Toji whenever he could. When he wasn’t mocking him on the lacrosse field for being unable to make it past him, he was following him into their private gym to mock him for his lousy work-out routines. Toji didn’t understand what his weird obsession was with him, but he was nearing his wit’s end at this point.

“Your form is a bit off though,” Sukuna said, lifting himself off the wall to stride over to him. “Shall I give you a suggestion?”

“I’m fine, thanks.” Toji turned away, trying to forget Sukuna was here.

Sukuna hummed. “Really? I think you’d benefit from a few helpful tips.”

“I’m good, thanks.” His tone was sharp. He wanted Sukuna to leave, but he knew he wouldn’t. 

He turned and stiffened when he realized how close Sukuna was, practically standing in front of him. Toji quickly steeled himself so the other wouldn’t notice his discomposure.

“You’d be a lot better player if you weren’t so stubborn,” Sukuna said, voice low like a purr. 

“You’d have a lot more friends if you weren’t such an asshole.” The reply sounded childish, but Toji was feeling himself growing anxious with Sukuna’s proximity. The man stood a few inches taller than Toji, but that wasn’t the part that made him nervous; it was Sukuna himself, with his dark eyes and smooth, low voice. There was something about him that made you flutter with anticipation, Toji himself included, as much as he hated to admit it.

Sukuna took a step closer to Toji, who reactively took a step back. Sukuna didn’t say anything — he merely stared down at Toji with an unreadable expression. Toji was getting irritated.

“What’s your problem, man?” Toji demanded, the frustration from these past few months coming out all at once.

To his chagrin, Sukuna merely shrugged. “I don’t have a problem. Do you?”

“Yes. You.”

“Oh?” Sukuna leaned towards him, causing Toji to flinch back. “Tell me.”

Toji’s fists clenched.

Sukuna noticed. “If you want to hit me, go for it.” He grinned. “If you can, that is.”

Oh, Toji wanted to. He truly did. But he knew what the result would be: Sukuna grabbing his arm and twisting it around till he had him pinned down to the ground. He’d proved many times over, not only in lacrosse but also in wrestling last season, that he was the superior one physically.

And Toji hated him for it.

Sukuna’s grin spread across his cheeks. “Go on. Try it.”

Toji released the tension from his jaw and breathed out. He wasn’t doing this. He reached down to grab his gym bag off the floor, slinging it over his shoulder.

Sukuna made a pouty face. “That’s a shame. I was hoping for a bit of excitement tonight.”

“Go to the arcade then.” Toji tried to walk past him, but Sukuna grabbed his elbow. Toji tried to wrestle himself free. “Hey- !”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sukuna said, grip strong on Toji’s arm.

Toji snarled as he attempted to yank himself free again, but to no avail. He sighed, allowing Sukuna to pull him closer till their chests were inches apart.

There was a glint of curiosity in Sukuna’s eyes as he stared down at Toji. Toji knew that look — all men knew that look. But for some reason, he wasn’t surprised by it. Perhaps they both suspected for a while now the sexual tension between them, but refuse to admit it.

“If you want to kiss me, then just do it,” Toji said, trying to make himself sound more irritated than he actually was. It was merely a mask for how he was truly feeling.

In truth, his belly was rolling with excitement, something he only felt when he was about to kiss an attractive woman. But this… this almost felt… different. More intense, more thrilling, like kissing your enemy for the first time. There was desire mixed with frustration. A passion that was desperate to free itself.

Sukuna grinned wolfishly before taking Toji’s chin and tilting it up to meet his lips. At first, it was gentle. Sukuna’s lips were plump and not as soft as a woman’s, but nonetheless intoxicating. Toji had seen Sukuna flirt with cheerleaders in-between games, saw how he toyed with them and made them giddy with his suggestive looks and sultry tilt of his mouth. He also saw how he kissed them, slow and open-mouthed. He definitely had practise and Toji felt it now.

Sukuna eased his mouth open to lick inside. A part of Toji wanted to pull back, to stop this before it got out of hand, but his curiosity kept him rooted to the spot. He almost didn’t want it to stop.

He felt Sukuna’s hands on his waist and there was a flicker of indignation. He felt almost like a woman. Toji seized his hand and felt Sukuna smirk against his mouth.

“No?” Sukuna asked.

Toji shifted his jaw. “Yes.” His finger tightened around Sukuna’s wrist. “But not like this. I’m a man; treat me like one.”

Sukuna sneered and dug his fingers into Toji’s side. “As you wish.”

~ Idk, this was random. Hope you enjoyed :P

[kittenfrostt]

May I ask for NSFW Alphabet HCs with Yoru from Valorant?

warnings ;; filthy smut 

art by @/ShkretArt on twt 

divider by @/benkeibear on tumblr

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  𝐘𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Let’s be real, this man is not the best candidate when it comes to aftercare. He can sometimes be a selfish lover, and will think you can probably take care of yourself. It’s not in a mean way– he just doesn’t think he’s going to do a good job. You can ask him, and he might be a bit moody about it but he’ll help you out in any way you ask if you’re sweet about it. He just can’t resist that pretty, fucked out expression of yours. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

 His favorite body part on his own body is definitely his hair. Hes always combing through it, making sure its perfectly styled at all times. 

On you, I can definitely see him as loving either your boobs or your ass, anywhere he can bite or suck on. He wouldn’t admit it to you, but he thinks every part of you is beautiful. There are just certain parts that really get him going. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Messy, messy boy. Likes to cum all over or inside of you with your consent of course. He likes to make a bit of a mess, eager to see your face or body dripping in his cum. It just makes you look so pretty, and its kinda one of his ways of marking you. He’ll sit and stare as it drips out of your pretty hole, opting to push it back into you, or eat you out after he cums. For girls he loves when you squirt, being doused in your arousal wakes something primal in him each time. For boys he definitely likes to see you cum all over the sheets, or his chest when he’s fucking you. Que the ‘I didn’t even have to touch it,’ With a cocky grin. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves to watch porn sometimes. Maybe even a naughty video or picture of you is enough to help make him cum. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I’d say he has pretty good experience. He’s used to the casual hookup and never talking again type beat. Though he leads you on to thinking he knows more than he actually does, there’s no way he’s going to embarrass himself in front of you. He likes to keep his cocky, cool complexion like he has everything under control. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It would probably be between doggy and cowgirl. On one end, he likes to see your face shoved into the pillow, back arched nice and pretty for him to pound into you from the back. On the other end, he likes to see you ride him with wild abandon, your body trembling from exertion above him after he’s made you ride him for long periods of time on end. He’ll have one arm behind his head, a sly grin on his features as he praises you, ‘Come on my little doll, you can keep goin. Just keep moving your hips like that,’ 

∘₊✧──────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I’d say he’s more serious when it comes to intimacy. He’s not much the goofy type at all outside of sex, I don;t think it would change during. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc. )

As stated earlier, this man always make sure he’s well groomed. He keeps his hair neatly trimmed, and yes the carpet does in fact match the drapes. Though it’s more of a darker blue. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s not a big passionate lover, more of a selfish, primal and rough kind of guy. At first it’s just a mission to get you and himself off, but the more you two spend time together, I believe you two will share more intimate moments together. Something deeper than just sloppy, rough sex. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

More times than he should. He likes to do it in front of you, watching you squirm as he strokes himself to the sight of your naked body. But he does have his moments where he’ll jack off if he;s on his own, if he’s too horny to wait he’ll throw on some porn and get himself off. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He loves spanking, and a bit of a brat tamer. He would definitely be a fan of things such as ropes, collars, etc. Anything to make you look like his pretty little fuck doll he adores. He also more than likely has a ‘daddy’ kink, though he’d never openly admit it. Very into dom/sub relationships. Hair pulling is something he’s into, wether he’s the one receiving it, or he’s the one tugging you back to him by your roots. Add in some choking, this man believes his hand is your best necklace. Also a huge fan of orgasm denial. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere tbh. He doesn’t really have a favorite place, he’ll take you in a public bathroom if need be. This man does NOT care. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Begging. Huge weakness for begging. It really gets him going. He also likes clinginess despite his front that he finds it annoying. When you latch onto him, it awakens something possessive in him and never ceases to get him going. Also when you touch his nipples or chest it triggers him almost instantly. 

Bratty behavior is also something he's into. He just likes the excuse you fuck it right out of you.

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Not much honestly. He wouldn’t be into anything extreme, including scat or something of that sort. He’s also not a huge fan of roleplay. He’d refuse to sub for you, and it would take a lot of convincing to get him to reluctantly agree. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He enjoys both, but his preference is definitely receiving. He could fuck your throat for hours if given the chance. He just loves to see his pretty baby gag on his cock with tears dripping down their cheeks. :( 

He’s great with his mouth and fingers, and will ensure to give you multiple orgasms when he gives you oral. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

His usual pace is fast and rough, but sometimes he’ll slow the pace only to taunt you, have you begging him to go faster. It fuels him to no end. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn’t mind them at all. Will do it anytime of the day you want to. 

∘₊✧──────────────────────✧₊∘

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

 He’s very willing to experiment, and he loves the thrill of taking risks. The thought of the two of you getting caught by another agent is something he’d love to see. The embarrassed look on your features after the matter.

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S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

. Many, many rounds. This man travels through dimensions in his free time, he can last for long hours if need be. Very high stamina, and trust me when I tell you he will use every bit of in on his pretty little doll. 

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T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes absolutely. He owns toys to use on his partner and will use them when he feels like edging you or watching you fall apart beneath him, showing him just how much of a lil slut you are even without him touching you. 

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U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Yoru is very mean, very unfair lover. He loves to edge you, punish you, you name it. One of the biggest teases ever. He finds enjoyment in it. He just likes to be in charge. 

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V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He can sometimes loud, but it mainly limits to grunts or groans. Maybe on a very good day, he’ll give out a little whimper. Expect it to be very lowkey, and if you catch it he’ll deny it to the ends of the Earth.

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W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Soft groans came from the male as he stared down at your kneeled figure, nose buried in his pelvis as he bullies his cock down your throat. “Look at that– taking me so well,” He’d purr out, his grip on your hair unmoving as he bobs your head up and down the length of his cock. He could hear the soft gags and squelches of your salivated mouth sucking him off, the noises like music to his ears. “Aww pretty doll, don’t tell me your crying,” He’d taunt, one of his thumbs moving to swipe a tear that fell down your soft cheeks from your throat being abused. Your vision was hazy as you gazed up with half lidded eyes, drool dripping down your chin and onto the ground as you take him deep into your throat. You whine around him, and he grunts at the vibrating sensation. His grip on your hair tightens, and the way you stare up at him has him practically throbbing. “Thats it doll– just keep looking at me just like that,” He’d groan out, face locked onto yours as the mix of his precum and saliva drip down your chin, Just the sight had him thrusting a few times into your mouth. “Letting me use that warm little throat of yours, my little cum slut,” He cooed out, forcing your head back down to take all of him in your mouth. “Show me how bad you want my cum,” He challenged you, a slight grin on his features as he felt the warm flesh of your tongue circling around his base. 

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X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

 He’s got a pretty lean, athletic build. He isn’t super buff, but strong enough to maneuver you how he pleases.  

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Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Moderately high. This poor little horn dog, always needing relief.

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Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s usually up for another hour or so before he falls asleep, and he never falls asleep before you do. He wants to exert you to the very limit, and admire his work as you sleep peacefully beside him.