#failing forward: a hard lesson

[pellucid-constellations]

Lessons in Care

Pairing: Line Cook!Azriel x Reader

Summary:��Azriel loves you so much. Even though you can't cook. You're trying though.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: A small injury

a/n: Consider this a small gift to make up for me disappearing for a month <3 This is part of the line cook au, but as I've mentioned, nothing is really in order so read however you want :) The rest of this AU can be found in my masterlist right there ⬇ love you <3

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

“Like this?” You shook the pan a little harder, the handle's weight tweaking your wrist at an odd angle. 

“Almost. Try not to hold your elbow so close to your body. It won’t flip right.” 

You pressed your lips together and narrowed your eyes. “This is so hard.” 

“I believe in you,” Azriel teased, an amused upturn of his eyes as he watched you struggle. 

“Why is this pan so heavy? It’s literally like 40 pounds.” 

“It’s cast iron, baby.” 

“That’s stupid.” 

Azriel barked out a laugh, red tinting his cheeks as if he hadn’t expected the sound to leave his lips. Your mouth quirked up in a small smile despite your struggle. You shot your gaze to the side to try and catch the sweet expression that still lingered on Azriel’s face.

“Would you like me to do it?” Azriel posed after clearing his throat. 

“Of course not. I came early so you could teach me.” 

“I could teach you another time. You have class soon.” 

“Why do you want me to fail?” 

“I don’t—” 

“You totally do. You want me unable to cook for myself so I’ll always have to rely on you, and then I’ll never be able to leave you.” 

Azriel laughed again, a quiet, rumbling sound. “You caught me. Now hand that over before you hurt yourself.” 

You groaned and turned slightly to evade your boyfriend’s reach. “Az, I’m serious. Teach me how to flip these stupid eggs right now.” 

“Okay, okay. Just let me help.” 

The feel of Azriel’s hand lightly sliding over yours startled you. You jumped and your fingers twitched, the sudden motion sending the tips of your fingers too far forward until a simmering pain shot through your skin. You flung the pan back on the burner instantly, its contents splattering along the stove and into the open flame. It burned a bright orange and then settled as you held your hand close to your chest. 

You hissed a breath through your teeth and Azriel’s hands were on you. 

“Shit, baby, let me see, yeah?” he stressed, mindlessly turning the burner off without taking his eyes off you. He tugged your hand at your chest with gentle fingers. “Let me see.” 

You released the tight grip on your fingers and rested them in Azriel’s open palm. “I was just surprised. I don’t think it’s that bad.” 

Azriel’s brow furrowed as he examined your burn. He tsked, pulling you gently by your wrist over to the sink. “It’s going to blister.” 

Cool water rushed from the pipes and soothed your skin. Azriel held your wrist in a soft grip and turned your hand slowly, back and forth in a repetitive motion. 

“I don’t think so, Az. It’s not that bad.” 

Azriel shook his head. “That pan was pretty hot—I’d be surprised if it didn’t.” He looked up at you. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

You offered a gentle smile and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “You didn’t scare me.” You raised your brow playfully. “You just made me nervous. A cute guy like you holding my hand—reaching over to help me to cook. Made me all jumpy.” 

Azriel breathed out a disbelieving scoff. “I’ve done far worse than just hold your hand.” 

“Scandalous!” you proclaimed, affronted. “How can you say such things at work, Azriel? You’ll be fired.” 

“I can only hope,” Azriel grumbled. 

Azriel directed you to keep your hand under the water as he dug through a cabinet for the first-aid kit despite your protests. You truly felt that you were fine and didn’t even need a bandaid, but it was easy to forget the multitude of scars that littered Azriel’s hands and how they contrasted with your completely unmarred skin. 

That was purposeful, meaningful—Azriel worked hard so you wouldn't have to. Azriel found peace in keeping you safe and happy. 

So you let him fuss. 

“Okay, let me see again, baby,” Azriel requested, flipping the water off and reaching for your hand. Your skin stung as it met the air beyond the sink, but Azriel’s caring touch was like a balm. 

He dried your fingers with a towel and uncapped a spray bottle, coating your burn with too much of the medication before grabbing a set of gauze and tape. You stared at the materials in exasperation. Azriel didn’t notice the expression and continued to admisinister care as if you’d been in a fire.

“Az, I love you so much, but I don’t need all of that. It’s a small burn. I’ve probably done worse with my curling iron.” 

Your boyfriend only hummed and continued his work. “I don’t want it to scar. It blistered already.” 

“Yes, but—” 

“Almost done.”

You let him work. A few moments of silence passed. Azriel kept his gaze hard and his brow set in a harsh line. 

That wouldn’t do. 

Once your finger was fully wrapped and protected from everything Azriel could fear, you puckered your lips in contemplation and shook your head. 

“Still hurts really bad,” you admitted, leaning back against the counter. Azriel followed your movements, leaving little space between you. 

“What?” he questioned, a tinge of panic in his tone. “That should’ve numbed it. How bad does it hurt?” 

“Really, really bad. Like my whole hand is on fire, actually.”

Azriel—who had yet to release your fingers—stared down at them in startled befuddlement. He turned them one way and then another as if that would answer his questioning gaze, and then looked back up to meet your eyes in a way that was almost pleading. 

“I’m sorry, maybe I should—”

“You have to kiss it,” you revealed, not wanting the sad expression to linger on his face any longer. “Duh.” 

Azriel let out a breath that bordered on relief, but most of it seemed founded in exasperation. He shook his head and brought your fingers up to his lips all the same, smiling to himself as he began to kiss each of your fingertips. Even the ones that clearly weren’t burnt. He flipped your hand over and kissed the knuckles, too, capturing your eyes as he glanced at you from beneath his lashes. 

“‘M sorry you got hurt,” he mumbled with his lips against the back of your hand. “Told you you shouldn’t try cooking, baby.” 

The warm feeling that had begun to seep into your chest paled in comparison to the offended scoff that echoed in the empty kitchen. Azriel’s poorly concealed, devious smile was hidden in the kisses he started pressing into your palm, and although it would have fit the sound you let out, you didn’t pull away. 

“Azriel, you are just asking for me to—” 

“The hell is going on in here?” The kitchen door smacked against the frame as Cassian made his entrance. “Someone get hurt?” 

Azriel dropped your hand just as soon as Cassian had spotted him pressed against you, clearing his throat and turning to the disheveled first-aid kit on the counter. You brought your knuckles up to your mouth to hide your laugh at Azriel’s expense, his face flushing in vulnerability. 

“Oh, I see what was going on. You were romancing your girl, weren’t you, Az? Well, don’t let me interrupt. You came in early and everything,” Cassian teased, his hands raised in surrender. 

“We were just finishing up,” you countered, a laugh trickling through. “I have to get to class, Cass. You can start your shift.” 

“Uh huh,” Cassian smiled, raising his brows and then lowering them when he caught your hand reaching for your backpack. “You okay?” 

“She’s fine,” Azriel interrupted. He took your bag from you and slung it over his shoulder, pressing a nonchalant kiss to your head that you knew was actually not nonchalant. “I’m going to take her to school. Cover for me for 20?” 

“Sure, man.” 

“Az, I was going to take the bus you don’t have to—” 

“C’mon, baby.” 

“But I don’t even have my helmet for your bike.”

“I always bring your helmet.”

[girliism]

(18+)

riding cowboy art while wearing his cowboy hat... need that!

art has tried so many times to teach you how to ride a horse, but you were so much better at riding his dick. so here you were bouncing up and down on his cock after another failed horse riding lesson.

“can’t believe you can ride my cock like you���re gonna die tomorrow, but you can barely stay on a horse.” he taunts, rough hands gripping hard at your hips. your head thrown back in pleasure, one hand coming up to fix the too big cowboy that was threatening to fall off.

“that’s totally different.” you slur out scratching at his chest your moans getting louder when art plants his feet on the bed and starts fucking up into your warm, wet cunt.

you fall forward when you feel art’s cock head starts ramming into that soft spot inside of you. “oh fuck! feels so good art.” “you look so fucking hot in my hat, kinda wanna cum on you face.” art groans fucking up into you hard.

“you can. want you to cum on my face. wanna cum first though please.” and how could he deny you such a thing when you were asking so nicely. what kind of boyfriend would he be?

“of course pretty, anything for you.” art said flipping you onto your back pounding into your sweet spot harder. fingers coming down to rub at your clit. the duel simulation has you crying out while arching your back, hands gripping hard at the sheets below you when the knot in your stomach loosens and you’re cumming all over your boyfriends dick.

art pulls his still harden cock from your gushing pussy lightly stroking your puffy lips with the back of his fingers. “art.” you whine closing your legs from the overstimulation.

your boyfriend climbs up your body, knees straddling your chest. art traces his fingers over your face starting at your eyebrows traveling down to your lips slipping two of his fingers into your mouth watching as you suck greedily on them.

“open up, tongue out.” you do so immediately. art reaches down between your legs gather up some of your wetness to use as lube before jerking his dick hard. “you’re so pretty. gonna be even prettier with my cum all over you.” his moans get louder and slightly higher pitched.

art never really knew how to keep quiet especially when on the verge of cumming, and you loved it. the way only you could get him to whine like a bitch as he starts fucking his hand at sloppy rhythm.

“fuck, so close baby. gonna cum.” his mouth falls open as little gasps slip from his lips while he cums all over your face. you catch most out it in your mouth. gathering with your fingers whatever fell on cheeks before sucking them clean.

after a few deep breaths art falls next to you on the bed pulling you into his side. “why do you still have this stupid hat on.” he laughs taking it off you throwing it into a corner of the room. “it’s not stupid, you said i look hot.” you say, cheek pressed against his chest listening to his heart beat.

“you do, just next time you wear it you better be while riding an actual horse.”

(this has been on my minds for awhile i’m glad i got it out 🙂‍↕️)

[mister0ctopus]

Dolbeault's Theorem

Pairings: Top (wink hehehehe) Student JK  x Reader

Summary:  When you found out you’d be paired with the smartest guy in class for a math project, you couldn’t help but anticipate all the things you could learn from him.

Ratings: 18+ ONLY!!! MDNI!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents, JK is a warning but its ok because he is jeykey!!! they’re kinda cute idk, reader is needy

Au/Genre: Smut (X), Fluff if you squint (-_-), college au

Word Count: 2.1K

Note: This is my first post… kinda nervous, but fuck it lololol please let me know what you think!!! Aaaaaaaagh

:)

🐙 Masterlist / AskMe!

When you found out you’d be teamed up for a math project with the smartest guy in class, you have two reasons why you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning like a fool:

you were certain your grades were gonna be great! At least you knew you wouldn’t fail.

you’d been nursing the fattest crush on him since last year.

There was just something about the way he explained complex formulas, his voice always calm and gentle. And then, there was the way he pushed his glasses up his nose, almost absent mindedly, mid-sentence while he’s patiently simplifying every confusing calculation.

So, you found excuses to sit closer to him. To brush your hand against his “by accident.” You don’t miss the way his jaw tightens. But he never touched you back. Never gave any indication he noticed your lingering glances or the way your voice softened just for him.

So, when imagining how his lips, or his cock, might taste as you touch yourself at night wasn’t enough anymore, you decided to take a chance. It was bold, it was brave. But you couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

One late afternoon, when the two of you were alone in the lab, you pushed your luck. It started with a subtle brush of your breasts against his arm while pretending to look at his computations. He froze, but he didn’t move away. Encouraged, you pressed harder and you saw his hand curl into a fist, his breathing falter, his jaw clench like he was fighting something within himself.

And then, when you felt there was no going back, you leaned closer, grazing your lips against his.

Silence.

Just the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t move either. And just as you were about to wish the ground would swallow you whole -

Jungkook kissed you.

It was gentle but full of intent. He kissed you like he had been waiting, holding back, and now he couldn’t any longer. He kissed you like he was studying you, tasting you, learning you.

From that day forward, you weren’t just partners in math—you were partners beyond the four walls of the classroom. Partners in exploring each other's bodies, learning each other's sweet spots, tasting each other's skin.

And as days pass you learn a lot about him – like how he’s gentle in the classroom but not in the bedroom. How he spoke softly in school, but rough in bed.

And you couldn’t help but anticipate all the things you could learn from him.

So, when Jungkook offered to teach you Dolbeaut’s Theorem, he didn’t realize the kind of lessons you were truly eager to receive from him.

The moment he sat in his chair and started explaining how Dolbeault's theorem is a complex analog of de Rham's theorem, your mind was on the dripping need between your thighs. So when he told you to focus on the lesson, you dropped to your knees, unzipped his jeans, freeing his already hard cock, your mouth watering at the sight of it.

Your tongue licking along the length of his cock, measuring his girth with your soft, eager lips, wrapping around his swollen tip.

His groans and filthy sounds filled the air as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper. His fingers tangled in your hair, pushing your head down further.

You choked, tears spilling down your cheeks as you took him to the base, your throat tightening around his cock.

“Fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum,” he hissed, voice strained as you licked and sucked, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head. The salty taste of his pre-cum drove you wild, and you feel your cunt clench.

He tastes so sweet so sweet you want more.

And when he couldn’t take it anymore, he grabbed you by the jaw, another hand on your back, as he pushed you to the bed.  

You were about to crawl onto the mattress when he grabbed you by the ankle, flipping you onto your back. In one swift motion, he dragged you to the edge of the bed, spreading your legs wide.

His mouth lapped on your wetness, his tongue flicking over your clit with determined precision. Your back arched as he sucked hard, the nasty wet sounds of his tongue against your pussy filling the room.

“Jungkook!” you cried, your hands fisting in the sheets.

He smirked against you. “So wet for me.”

When he slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right, your vision blurred. He pumped them hard and fast, his lips never leaving your clit.

“You taste so fucking good,” lips glistening as his fingers slammed into you harder, hitting that spot, driving you to the edge of release. But just when you were about to cum, he pulled away, leaving you gasping.

“Fuuuucccck!!! Kook, please!” you gasped, your voice trembling.

And as you writhed in need, hands clawing the sheets, he grinned – or was that a chuckle?

“Hmmm? What’s that baby?”

“Please baby, please…” you begged, whining, as you watched him pump his hard member, tip glistening with pre-cum. He rolled a condom over his length as he watched you squirm. He towered over you as he slapped his cock against your slick entrance, teasing you as he smirked.

“I need words baby girl” he taunted, tapping your swollen clit with the head of his cock.

You just groaned as you stared at his toned abs. Your hips lifted to try and take him in, but he held you down with a firm hand on your stomach.

“Fuck… this pussy” as he pressed just the tip of his cock inside, stretching you torturously slowly.

“Oh god…baby, please. More!” you pleaded, as your breath hitched in need.

“Greedy little whore,” he chuckled, sliding an inch more, slowly.

Oh, you want more. You need more more more -

“You think you can just suck my dick like that?”

You whimper in torment, sobbing, breaking –

He pushed another inch in quick and steady motions, but still not burying all in. And it's driving you crazy, so crazy you claw on his biceps.

“Jungkook! Please!!!”

He chuckled again, staring you down like the beautiful, pathetic mess you were. “You look so pretty like this,” he murmured, his gaze drinking in every inch of you.

Your velvet skin glowed under the light of the computer screen, and your dark hair sprawled messily across his bed.

You grind yourself to him, trying to take more of his hard dick.

“Goddamn baby. You want this dick? You want to take it all?” he growled, pushing in another inch, making you cry out.

Utterly helpless and succumbing to need, you yelled. “Jungkook, please! I need you to fuck me hard baby please!”

He gave a raspy laugh, leaning over you, his eyes dark with a promise. A warning?

“You act like a slut, you’re gonna get fucked like a slut. Do you understand?”

And with both his hands on your jaw, he slammed into you in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. Your scream echoed in the room as he set a punishing pace, his cock hitting deep, every thrust stealing the breath from your lungs.

“goddamn, so fucking tight” he hissed, one hand now gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks.

You cried his name because words left you, and you can no longer form coherent sentences. You were so drunk on lust, feeling full of his dick – and yet, you still want more. You craved his dick every day and you couldn’t get enough of him.

“Turn over baby. I wanna see your ass” he ordered, flipping you onto your stomach before you could process his words. He yanked your hips up, pressing your face into the mattress as he entered you from behind. His hand fisting your hair, pulling your head back as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You like being used, don’t you? Being my little toy to fuck however I want?”

 “Yes! Fuck!” you sobbed, your body trembling as he pounded into you.

He bit his lip, feeling you clench around his cock, his free hand snaking around to pinch your nipples, then your clit.

“You’re taking me so well.”

Your body tensed, the knot in your stomach tightening, your head blank but seeing stars, and all you can feel was his dick slamming torturously inside you. And as you thought you couldn’t feel fuller, he inserted his thumb into your asshole, his pace never faltering as he stretched you further.

“Fuck!” you cried, your head spinning from the overwhelming sensation.

“You like that?” he chuckled, his voice dripping with pride. “Taking my cock and my thumb like a greedy little slut?”

You could barely respond, drool in your mouth, your moans turning to screams as he fucked you harder, faster, both holes clenching around him as you feel the build to an unbearable peak.

“Speechless now, are we? You like all your holes filled?”

He grabbed the base of your hair, pulling you back to him so you could feel his chest, and hear him whisper filth in your ears. You’re feeling everything, everywhere all at once.

You’re so close, so fucking close –

“You coming baby?”

You could only respond with a nod and noises unknown to man.

“Yeah?”

His thumb pressing deeper, his cock slamming into you relentlessly as he bites the side of your jaw.

“Then come for me”

Your release hit like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as you screamed his name, along with words you couldn’t comprehend.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You come so hard you collapse on the mattress. How Jungkook can make you feel like his nasty little whore, you also don’t know. But you love it.

But just as you thought he was done, Jungkook’s hand slid between your thighs again, his thumb brushing over your abused clit. You jerked, a whimper escaping your lips as the overstimulation sent a jolt through your body.

“Oh, you thought we’re done?” panting, with a smug grin spreading across his face. "We’re not done baby."

“Jungkook, wha—”

And before you knew it, he slammed his hardness back inside you, fingers rubbing your clit until you arch into the sensation. He pressed kisses along your spine, his voice a soothing contradiction to the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Come for me again baby”

Your body obeyed his commands before your mind could catch up, pulse after pulse, as you ascended to the sky. He slams so hard you feel your eyes roll at the back. You're so close close clo-

“Look at you,” he said, his voice laced with pride. “So fucking perfect. Taking everything I give you.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you felt your thighs trembling. He watched you, his dark eyes devouring every reaction, every twitch and moan.

“Jungkook- im g-gona fucking come”

“I know baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “I know”

And so you come again. Your body shattered under his touch, your orgasm crashing over you in waves so intense that you couldn’t hold back the sobs that broke from your throat. Jungkook didn’t stop, movements quicker now, your walls milking him for all he was worth. He hissed, his thrusts growing erratic before he buried himself deep one last time, his cock twitching as he came hard, filling the condom with a groan.

Fuck.

You left the earth, because there’s no way that wasn’t heaven.

As you both came down from the high, you lay there, spent and trembling. He took his time easing himself out of you. Your spent body still twitching with aftershocks. He laughed lowly, leaning down to brush a soft kiss against your shoulder.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, baby,” he murmured, his voice gentle now, his hands soothing as he helped you sit up.

He disappeared for a moment, returning with a warm, damp cloth. The care he took in cleaning you up was almost as overwhelming as the pleasure he’d just given you.

When he was done, he climbed into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms. You nestled against his chest, inhaling his scent – a mixture of musk, vanilla, and sex.

“I think you did a great job explaining Dolbeaut’s Theorem tonight,” you joked weakly, your voice muffled against his warm skin

Jungkook chuckled. “Uh huh. Guess I’ll have to teach you another lesson tomorrow,” he sighed dramatically, his fingers brushing through your damp hair.

“And what’s that?”

“Equilateral triangle.”

“…because I have three equal sides?”

“Because you’ve got all the right proportions.”

You rolled your eyes. “Baby, sometimes you’ve gotta know where to draw the line.”

Before he could say another punny joke about lines, you kissed his smile and swallowed his laugh.

And once again, you feel the soreness in your core—a reminder of your just-concluded learning session today.

Oh, the perks of dating the smartest boy in class.

[chariaki]

I like you!

Yuji x fem!reader

It took you a while to actually notice Yuji Itadori. Although, yes, you are close friends, you never really read into his gestures too deeply, since he is friendly to everyone.

Over the past few years, you failed to notice the way he dyes his hair only pink for the reason that you said you liked it on him, the way the same colour rises to his cheeks when you ruffle his hair and call him a "cutie pie", the way he focuses on you instead of the lesson you were teaching him, and especially the way his body flinches, ears red, and pants bulged up whenever you hug him tightly.

Nobara talked to you about Yuji when you had a sleepover at her place. The girl talk helped you confirm your rising suspicion about him. Yuji Itadori has a crush on you!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Okay! Lets get this straight:

Yuji Itadori, 18 years old, male. Just your ordinary teenager. Been friends with him for more than 10 years, friendly, sweet, funny and his most prominent characteristics are: his pink hair, his muscular build and.... his crush. on. you.

This realization made you think about him for weeks. It made you think about you and him. And what surprises you is that you didn't feel an ounce of discomfort thinking about Yuji as a possible boyfriend. You even thought of him in all sorts of ways.

A few weeks has gone by and you found it entertaining to just stare at him. Your body turned to him, eyes shamelessly focused on him. You always thought of Yuji as cute. But now...He actually looks so handsome.

You admire the way his eyes are sharply focused on reading a manga, the way his brows furrow in frustration from the plot, the way his cheek shows the bulge of his tongue. He makes a click sound. And suddenly, you're eyes fall to his arms, he wasn't even trying yet his muscles are just so evident. It's proof of his diligent hard work.

You stood up and walked to his desk, bending your body forward to to meet his face.

"Yujiiii"

You whispered. Your face so close to his that you can smell his perfume and, with his ears red, you're sure he can smell yours too. Not to mention the way his eyes momentarily looked down to your chest and back up to your face so fast, you could've missed it if you blinked!

But you didn't. You saw it and it made you want to tease him more.

"Let's go home?"

"Uhh... Yeah. Sure!"

He hurriedly packs up his things and stands up behind you with his hand carrying his backpack. When he sees that you were done with your stuff, he effortlessly slings your bag on his back. A habit he developed since he always walked home with you. Yuji didn't want your pretty body to be tired from carrying such a heavy bag.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The walk home was as usual, you, talking excitedly about your day and him looking at you, smiling. Occasionally, Yuji would also beam about his video games, monster movies and the times Megumi slapped and scolded him for doing something stupid. It was a routine day for you and so you wanted to make a difference.

"Yuuu, wanna go grab ice cream? My treat!" You beam up at him, eyes mischevious and playful.

"Okei okeii!!!"

The two of you approached your favorite ice cream truck. You and Yuji had been buying their ice creams ever since you were kids. The owner had practically watched you grow up.

"Well if it isn't my favorite lovebirds!"

"'Sup, Uncle!!" Yuji greeted. You always wondered why he called you guys that and you denied it every time. You also failed to notice that Yuji didn't mind the nickname and is even happy to hear it. And now you know why.

"Hiii, Uncleee! We'll have our usual" You greeted, turning around to find Yuji lingering behind you. His tall figure smilling down at you as his hand takes out money from his oocket and pays for the ice cream.

"Heyyyy!!! I told you I was going to pay!" You pouted at him.

He poked your cheek and bended his knees to level his face with yours. "Hehe. I got it. Besides, we can celebrate the day you didn't deny it. " He smiled and patted your head.

"Deny what?" You ask while looking at Yuji grabbing your ice creams and the receipt, walking towards the nearby table and placing your bags down. He looks at you from his seat and pats the seat next to him.

"The"Lovebirds" ....Just kidding!" He exclaims while happily biting into his ice cream.

He had ice cream on his nose.

"Hmmmm"

You say smirking. You scooted closer to him, inching your face near his face. Yuji's eyes widen, body leaning back to lengthen the space between your faces. You don't give in and leaned closer even more.

He's so adorable. A blush rises to his cheeks and ears in the same color as his hair. You loved it when he did that.

What amuses you is when he closed his eyes.

You took this opportunity to kiss his nose, licking away the ice cream.

"Mmm!! Strawberry. Heh."

Yuji slowly opened his eyes, dumbfounded.

"H-huh?! HUHHH??"

Poor boy collapsed backward, back landing on the wooden bench. Ice cream falling on the grass.

The owner laughed loudly, witnessing everything that unfolded.

"Yuji? You alright there?" You chuckled.

"Uhhhhhh.... give me a minute yn.. " He mumbled, arms covering his face while he layed still,cheast heaving up and down.

After what you assumed to be five minutes, Yuji slowly rose up, cheeks and ears still pink, a hand touching the place where you kissed him.

"Uhh....I-"

"Yuji." You smiled at him, amused at his flustered state.

"W-wait, Yn. Please let me go first."

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

"I like you."

Your eyes widened.

He confessed! You thought to yourself. You stayed silent, now you're the one who's flustered.

WHO wouldn't be when Yuji Itadori is looking at you with such emotion in his eyes. He's so focused on you, patiently awaiting for your response.

"You don't have to reply now of course! I just.... I just wanted you to know. I really do like you, yn. Have liked you since the first time you took me here to buy ice cream, still liked you even when you ranted about your old crush, and I'm pretty damn sure I'll continue liking or fucking loving you even if you turn me down."

He hold such intense eye contact. Determination in his eyes, in contrast to the red in his ears and the constant pink in his cheeks that gives away his embarrassment.

You rested your head on his chest, hiding your flustered face and looking away from his inteses gaze. You're sure you turned into a tomato too.

"Mm mike kyu chew"

You mumbled against his chest, feeling his heartbeat race through his uniform.

"Hm? I didn't get that, Yn." Yuji questioned, rubbing your arms on your side with his big hands then gently pulling you up to face him.

His eyes widened, lips broke into a big smile.

"Y-your all red!!" His eyes crinkled and his loud, beautiful laugh escaped his lips.

"Hmph! I LIKE YOU TOO, OKAY!"

You exclaimed. Embarrassment visible in your voice.

"You do?" Yuji beamed and leaned his face close in anticipation.

"I do." You couldn't help but smile as you squished his cheeks, your ice cream long discarded. He leaned in your touch.

"I like you more."

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

This fic is inspired by @smsm22!! 💛

[lavenderstobins]

Eddie’s in danger.

He knows he’s in danger because there is a four year old beelining for him, trying very hard to appear like she’s not rapidly advancing towards him.

When Josie finally stops, she’s right in front of him.

He has no idea what might’ve spurred this. Best to play it safe. “Hey, kiddo.”

Josie blinks innocently at him. “You broked Steve’s mug.”

Shit. The mug. It had been an accident—he’d balanced it too precariously when he’d been doing the dishes and it had slipped. They have plenty of mugs so it shouldn’t have been an issue, except… it was Steve’s lucky mug.

Steve loves that mug. He always drinks out of it if he needs the good luck that day and swears that it never fails him. If he sees it has broken, he’d take it as a sign of, like, the worst luck ever, and that would be the end of that.

The break had been clean, at least. The pieces are currently hidden away in a shoebox until he has time to get the glue to fix it. It’ll be an easy enough fix, so Steve should be none-the-wiser.

Except.

“The luck mug,” Josie continues, presumably trying to raise an eyebrow but instead raising both of her eyebrows high up her forehead. It takes everything inside him not to snort at the sight.

“I’m fixing it,” he replies. Maybe this can be a lesson about white lies, or doing good, or something. There’s probably a lesson here, right? “Steve won’t know it ever broke.”

Josie blinks up at him again. “Be shame if he did.”

Eddie’s smile fades. “What?”

“Be shame if Steve knew you broked his mug,” she repeats, fixing him with a stare that’s oddly reminiscent of Erica.

Is he… is he being blackmailed by a child?

“Josie,” he starts, leaning forward so that they’re eye-to-eye and taking on a desperate tone. “You can’t tell Steve, okay? Nobody can know about the broken mug.”

She sighs heavily. It would be comical if not for the way his heartbeat has increased.

“I know,” she says, shaking her head. “But maybe I not know.”

“Don’t know,” he corrects, then squints. “What do you mean?”

“I know you broked his mug, Deedee.” Her tone is serious. “For Baby Sapphire, I not know. Baby Sapphire make it go—” She mimes an explosion with her hands, puffing out her cheeks. “Bye-bye.”

“Baby— What?”

Josie pulls out a crumpled catalogue page out of her pocket and holds it out. On it, in the corner, is a small, bug-eyed, blue plastic horse labelled Baby Sapphire. It’s the ugliest thing he’s ever seen. The nose isn’t even long enough for the horse to breathe. It’s like the pug of ponies.

Eddie looks up, meeting Josie’s pointed stare. It’s a battle he knows he’s already lost.

“Not a word,” he instructs, tucking the paper into his pocket. Josie brightens, beaming up at him, then skips away, merry as ever.

This is his life now. Blackmailed by a preschooler.

—

“Did you know Josie’s resorted to blackmail now?” Eddie says offhandedly. He’s sitting on the kitchen counter as Steve chops carrots, watching Josie play with her new toy from his view of the living room doorway.

“Earlier than I expected, honestly,” Steve says, not looking up. “What did she have on you?”

“Hmm? Oh, uh, not on me.” Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “I watched her extort Mike earlier.”

Steve glances at him, frowning. “Mike’s been out of Hawkins for two days.”

Fuck.

“I think Robin’s calling for me, actually.” Eddie slides off the counter, backing away as Steve’s eyebrows raise in amusement. “I’d love to continue this conversation, but, duty calls.”

“Robin’s out with Max!” Steve calls as Eddie makes a hasty retreat to the living room. “You’re fooling nobody, babe!”

Josie looks up as Eddie closes the door behind him, ugly horse in hand. Moments later, Steve opens the door again, one hand on his hip.

“What did you do?” He swivels from Eddie to Josie. “Josie, sweetie, what did Deedee do?”

Eddie stares at Josie, practically feeling the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Josie shrugs, still playing. “I no know.”

He’s filled with relief. Steve doesn’t look convinced.

“Are you sure?” he presses. “It’s important to tell the truth, Josie.”

She stops, then, squinting up at him. “Always?”

“Always,” Steve confirms.

“Like when you said Bel eated Mama’s food but it was you?”

Steve falters, mouth falling open. A huge grin spreads across Eddie’s face.

“You what?” Eddie asks delightedly. “Stevie, you didn’t blame our cat for eating Robin’s leftovers!”

“Okay, you know what?” Steve holds his hands up in surrender, taking a step back. “Keep your secrets. Let’s not ask questions anymore.”

Eddie’s already laughing, though. “Steve, Rob almost took Bel to the vet because she thought she’d eaten fried rice.”

“I know!”

“And you offered to drive her there!”

“I know!”

—

[now on ao3]

[moonsaver]

You're certain your professor hates you.

Dr. Ratio was by no means someone who would go easy on you. His unmatchable merit meant almost unreachable standards of discipline and wit, and that extended a rigorous course with a passing percentage of 3%

You and the very few classmates you've had all were aware about what was to come once you signed up for his classes. Continuous, strict teaching, constant supervision, problems so hard it took days to solve. The worst exams were the open book ones – they lasted days.

At some point, your classmates decided to study together as a strategy. All of you would collectively study like maniacs and it did end up with gratifying results.

At least, for everyone else. Except you.

No matter what you did, your grades plummeted more and more from the previous exams. And Dr. Ratio was no shy of calling you out on it, telling you with a looming stature to meet him after class, the strain in his voice already enough for your blood to run cold.

Somehow, however, everytime after class when you sat down with Dr. Ratio, he seemed agitated, but nothing more. Of course, he didn't go easy on you when it came to pointing out every detail of a mistake on your paper, and that was the worst part you had to tolerate. Afterwards.. he was alright. The condescending tone in his voice as he instructed you to read the reference materials wasn't exactly tolerable, but it was better than being called an idiot, a buffoon, a failure in every language he possibly knew.

Although, what would annoy you even more was your study sessions were confined more and more to his office hours. After a few more failing grades, he would extend the amount of time you'd have to sit across him in the suffocatingly silent, sterile room with only an expanse of books that you occasionally interacted with, and a few necessities.

Every time your hand stopped scribbling, or your eyes stopped scanning the text, he would tap the table with a finger, and ask, "done already?" And you'd immediately continue, replying with a meek, "no". Sometimes if you took a while longer to answer out of hesitance, his sharp gaze would snap to you, looking up from one of his thick books, his reading glasses perched lower so that his eyes peeked out from above the lens. That would be enough to snap you from your trance, and get back to writing frantically.

But the arrangement was fine. Until he started getting uncomfortably closer.

Sometimes, he decides watching your eyebrows furrow in frustration is much more entertaining of a pastime during his break to rest his eyes. His office chair creaks a bit as he leans forward, his elbows perched on the desk, resting his chin on intertwined fingers. This was arguably more intimidating to you – his gaze was unimaginably heavy. And you're sure he's aware of it too – his eyes watch the obvious trembling of the pen in your hands, and the tensing of your jaw, as the realisation he's observing you thoroughly flashes in your eyes.

If you weren't so exhausted after taking your leave,you would have at least had the energy to think he was.. enjoying your discomfort.

And things only got worse from there. Sometimes he decides getting up from his chair and looming intimidatingly from behind you is better. At times, he leans down, too close for comfort, his breathing hitting the shell of your ears as you feel his eyes scan your work, and you. Sometimes, a waft of his scent hits your nose. You're sure he can smell yours, too.

In this position, it only gets worse. His arm sometimes rests across your back and his hand hangs firmly on your shoulder, his other hand pointing out a mistake you've made, and moves your writing hand to the exact spot. His condescending voice practically reverberates through you, his warm breath mixing with the cool air around your ear, making you flinch if you're caught off guard. You can only hope his observant gaze didn't see it.

Unfortunately, as helpful as the after-class lessons are, it seems it's not successful enough to get you to pass his course.

At some point, you're in his office almost late in the evening, the entire vicinity is devoid of people, echoes of usually quiet machinery are heard in the hallway. You sit across from him, head hanging from shame, and dread. He sighs deeply, leaning back in his chair, folding his legs.

He'll have to try.. other methods.

[inklore]

— luca (the bear) x f!reader. luca has a thing about fucking you in the kitchen. contents: p in v, cunnilingus, dirty talk, fingering | wc: 783+

It is almost a problem how much Luca enjoys fucking you against the counter in your shared kitchen. 

A problem when you have a knife in your hand trying to cut the veggies for your dinner, his chest pressing against your back as he comes and stands behind you. His palm running down your arm, to your wrist, slotting over your hand—a fake show of him teaching you a lesson you already know. 

How to cut right so you don’t slip and get your finger. The perfect positioning, glide, and control of the knife that only a seasoned chef would know how to do. 

“You’re a faster learner.” He’ll say teasingly in your ear. His smile against your neck as his face leans into your space, the tip of his nose running along the quickening pulse in your neck. 

You want to roll your eyes and tell him that you’re not learning much of anything right now that you don’t already know—that he isn’t distracting from as you feel his cock hardening against your ass. 

His other hand travels up the side of your thigh, making you shiver, a slow destination to the bottom of your worn sleep shorts. His fingers pushing past the fabric, pressing against your clothed clit. 

“Luca,” it’s a warning, a moan. Your head turning to look at him, stopping by his cheek when he pushes it forward with his nose. 

“Pay attention to what you’re doing, baby.” His fingers run along your slit. Wetness quickly gathers between your legs and slicks the fabric of your underwear, giving his fingers a better slide and push against your clothed pussy. “Don’t want you to cut yourself.” His teeth nip at your jaw. 

And you try to focus. Try to glide the knife through the vegetables, try not to push back against him, and run your ass against his dick, but fail. His low groan against your ear makes your eyes flutter. 

A string of moans pulled from your heaving chest when his fingers pull at your underwear enough to allow his fingers to move inside and press flush against your throbbing clit. 

“Careful.” His accent is deeper when he’s amped up like this. When he’s teasing you. When he’s making you feel so good and craving to feel just as good for himself. “I don’t think you’re paying attention.” 

“I-ahh, Luca.” 

“Baby.” He says mockingly. 

You know it’s him that’s stopping you from cutting yourself. His hand doing all the guiding, both with the knife and your body, as his fingers press into you and fuck you until your legs are shaking and you can’t keep your eyes open. 

The knife in your hands limp and forgotten, the vegetables pushed to the floor as Luca presses a palm to the middle of your back to bend you over. Pulling your shorts down and wasting no time to push inside of you. Both of you moaning in relief. You can feel his cock throbbing against your fluttering walls. 

The pace of his hips snapping hard against your ass makes your body jolt against the counter. Making anything around you not already on the floor find its way there. 

Safety forgotten. The only thing that matters is how good his cock feels inside of you, how pretty you sound in the one place of the house he’s an expert in. The one person he’s an expert at pulling incoherent moans and pleads from. 

His hand wraps around the base of your throat to pull you back against his chest, his fingers gripping your jaw when he turns your head towards his mouth so he can press a needy wet kiss on it. 

“Whose is it, baby? Who’s pretty lil’pussy is it?” He asks breathless against your mouth, panting as he stares into your eyes. His own blown out. The heat in them makes your belly burn. 

“Yours, only yours.” You whine into his mouth. Taste the sauce you made him try earlier; that is surely burning on the stove by now. 

When you’re about to come, he pulls out and turns you around, drops to his knees, his hand gripping the back of your calf as he puts your leg over his shoulder. Spreading your legs and putting his mouth on your pussy. Lips wrapping around your clit until your fingers are gripped in his hair and your hips are canting up against his face. Fucking yourself against his tongue and mouth until you’re coming, screaming his name. 

“Best fuckin’ meal I’ve ever had,” he says against your thigh. Placing a wet kiss against your thigh before he’s standing up, pulling your leg over his hip, and slipping back inside of you.  

[cosmiccrushes]

Drowning Lessons

Lucanis x Rook || 2.2k words

notes: this is in honor of the number of times I accidentally walked Rook off a cliff

also on ao3 :)

“Rook!” Her name ripped from his throat as his blade ripped through the chest of the Venatori in front of him. Lucanis caught the barest line of sight to her, just enough to watch another Venatori cultist land a boot to her stomach, pushing her off the ledge to the ocean below. 

Lucanis deftly raises his sword, blocking an attack. 

“Davrin! Rook!” 

The Grey Warden answers in confusion, sword poised to strike. “What about her?” 

“She went over the edge! Closest to you!” Lucanis brings his blade down through one Venatori just to have them replaced by another. An endless see of rats swarming over them.  

“And?” Davrin shouts back. 

Mierda. “The ocean! She can't swim!”

Davrin doesn't miss a step against the shield-bearing Venatori charging him. “You're kidding me?” 

Lucanis dispatches two more agents. “No!” And he was going to give her- and Viago- an earful about it after he fished her out. “Cover me!” He orders Davrin.

Davrin huffs out between swings of his sword. “I'm. A. Bit. Busy.” 

But Lucanis is already sidestepping two more cultists descending on him, launching himself in a blur of shadowy feathers off the ledge Rook fell from. 

He hits the water's edge, cutting smoothly and silently under before gliding gracefully to the surface, ever the assassin. It wasn't hard to locate Rook where she thrashed inefficiently against the current, her head bobbing under waves. She coughed on choking mouthfuls of seawater.

Lucanis broke into swift strokes in her direction, calling her name. He made it a mere three strokes away before she lost the battle with gravity and was dragged down.

Fear seized his heart, Spite growled in fury. Dive, the demon hissed. Lucanis didn't need to be told once. He dove in Rook’s direction. Propelling himself forward until her mane of curls floated before him. Her eyes were wide, panicked and she released a precious breath of air in surprise when she saw him. She clawed at her own chest as if she could find air to grasp onto and shove into her lungs. 

Lucanis wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her upwards with him. He felt the moment she gasped out a breath and went too lank in his arms.

Faster…not going to make it, Spite threatened. 

Lucanis pushed against the oppressive current until at last he broke through to air. Rook's hair floated in the water around them, her lips a disastrous shade of blue, her eyes closed. 

“Rook! Stay with me!” He swam to the shore, dragging her onto the sand, where she lay- all the lifelessness of his worst nightmares. 

She isn't breathing, Lucanis thinks frantically, trying to recall what he'd learned about resuscitations. He was used to stealing life, not restoring it. Do something! Spite demands.  

One calming breath for himself before he presses his lips to Rook's. Chest compressions between pleas- and threats- for her to breathe. 

The fates grant mercy when Rook finally coughs up water, turning onto her side to vomit up more. Lucanis pats her back. She wipes a hand across her mouth. Pushes wet, clinging coils of hair out of her face, before giving him a watery smile. 

“Thanks.” 

Lucanis hangs his head, a dry, haunted laugh dropping from his lips.

Mierda. 

A sound like a scoff from Spite. Perhaps he and the demon were finally in agreement about something. 

*** 

“You have to learn to swim, Rook.” 

Rook rolls her eyes. “It's not that big of a deal.” 

“Not that big of a deal?” Lucanis repeats in exasperation. “Rook, you nearly drowned! All because you failed to block one kick to the face.” 

“First of all,” she places her hands on her hips. “It was a kick to the stomach. That's a way bigger target to hit-” Now it's Lucanis’ turn to roll his eyes. “And second of all, I hate the water.” 

Lucanis fights back a second eye roll at her petulant tone. “Wouldn't you hate for it to be your death, then?” He'll attempt to coax her with the promise of dishonor and shame if that's what it takes. He's not going through that again. Hasn't stopped thinking about how the weight of her too-still body had felt against his.

Rook narrows her eyes in thought. “I guess that would be pretty unfortunate to have written at my grave.” 

Lucanis nods mutely. 

“But there's no time! I don't have time to learn how to swim when our allies need constant support and, oh yeah, my ancient elven gods are still trying to blight the world.” Lucanis can hear her frustration and fear, like a current bending her goals and priorities. 

“There is always time,” Lucanis says softly, “For keeping you alive.” 

The cynical armor she dons for protection falls away as she looks at him, her tone turning solemn. “Thank you for jumping in after me, Lucanis. I know I would've died if you hadn't.” 

“Never on my watch.” He vows. 

Rook smiles. “I was careless today, distracted. We can't afford that. It's just-” She rubs a hand against the back of her neck. “Seeing those Shadow Dragons, strung up and left there… It’s wrong. I chose to go to Treviso. I chose my city. And the Shadows paid the price.” Her teeth sink into her bottom lip. 

“We all make choices and we all get distracted sometimes. Especially when people we care about are hurting.” Lucanis says gently, knowing her mind is whirling with thoughts of Neve. 

She sighs. “Yes, and that distraction nearly cost me my life today. Death by drowning.” Her head shakes with her irritation. “Not even run through with a blade like a proper failed assassin.” She ponders a moment more. “Okay, Lucanis. I'll learn to swim.” 

Lucanis smiles in relief.

“If,” Her typical mischievous flare returns. “You agree to be the one who teaches me.” 

A wet, distinctly unclothed Rook flashes through his mind. He inclines his head in acquiescence. “It would be my pleasure.”

***

Lucanis waits for Rook by a canal near his family home. He and Illario used to come here as boys in the summertime. He must be smiling at the memory when Rook strolls up. 

“What are you grinning about?” 

“Just thinking of fond childhood memories.” 

“Hmm,” Rook muses. “What are those like?”

Lucanis wants to ask her more questions, desperate to soak up every ounce of information he can about her, but she's already moving past him, looking warily down the stony steps that descend into the water. Dampness clings to the stones. 

“So we just…walk into the water?” 

Lucanis grins, starting to unbutton his layers of protective clothing. “Yes. And then we swim. The steps go down into the water a couple feet before dropping off. It's quite deep,” he warns. 

She worries at her bottom lip, apparently coming to a silent agreement with herself as she nods once and begins disposing of her gear. Lucanis tries not to stare, but, well, as she sheds down to her light undergarments, it can’t be helped. It has never been lost on him that she is beautiful. He'd registered that as soon as he'd met her. But seeing her like this…no armor, no swords or gleaming daggers. Looking vulnerable and more intimate than Lucanis knew whether he could deal with. 

She drops a last dagger on top of the pile of her clothes, glancing up to catch him watching her. He doesn't look away and is pleased when her eyes sweep over his bare chest and her cheeks blush a rosy hue.

She clears her throat, heading down the steps. “Promise you won't let me drown?” 

“We have a contract. One much better served if you're alive.” He aims for a playful tone.

“You and your contracts,” she mutters. “I'll be taking one out on you if I don't make it out of this canal alive.” 

Lucanis laughs. “You might have to fight Viago for that particular deal.” 

She laughs too, looking back at him. Her smile is wide and wild. “I think you're probably right!” She seems gleeful at the prospect of fighting her house leader for a contract. 

“Okay so, what do I do?” She cautiously dips a toe in the water before easing her foot onto the frist submerged step. 

Lucanis steps around her and makes a rather showy move of diving head first into the water. Spite loves the theatrics too. When Lucanis surfaces, shaking wet hair out of his eyes, Rook is glaring at him with her arms crossed. 

“I am not doing that.” 

“Mierda, no! Sit down on the step, let's ease you in.”

She does as instructed, scooting down the steps until she's chest deep in water. She tilts her head back as though she can escape the gently lapping waves. 

“You know you're going to have to get your hair wet to do this properly?” 

“I'm not worried about my hair. I'm worried about my mouth.” She finally registers his teasing tone. “Oh shut up!”

She reaches out a palm to shove his shoulder where he treads water in front of her and he strikes. Grasping her wrist against his skin and pulling her off the final step. She yelps, clings onto his shoulders. His hand at her waist presses her to him. The water is cold, but her skin is warm from the sun.

She catches her breath, beats a fist against his chest. “Lucanis! You absolute demon! How could you! I could've been killed!”

He leans his head back and laughs, the sound echoing off the stone walls. He feels the lightest he's felt since leaving the Ossuary.

Rook pauses her tirade as she seems to realize what's happening. She gives him a final shove, sending him away from her as she takes a step back, rising so the tops of her shoulders peek above the water line. 

“You said it was deep!” She points an accusatory finger at him. “You liar!”

“I thought it would be better to discover it's not as bad as you feared.” 

She huffs. “I hate that you're right.” 

He wades closer to her. “First thing, we teach you how to float.”

***

“Rook, you have to stop fighting the water,” Lucanis coaxes, his hand under her back offering support. Everytime he tries to move it away so she can float on her own, panic grips her. Her lower half drops like a stone and she is left flailing. 

“I'm trying. It's rather hard to relax around something trying to kill you.” 

“I am here. Nothing will kill you.” 

She sighs. “Okay. I'm really going to try. Close my eyes and concentrate. You can't let go.”

Lucanis agrees. Her eyes flutter closed. Her hair halos around them. He traces the planes of her face, committing them to memory. She looks so peaceful. Lucanis feels a frightening certainty that he would kill any god asked of him to protect this. 

He feels her go weightless above his palm. The rise and fall of her breath comes steady and sure. He pulls his palm down into the water, just enough to completely break contact with her back. It sets off a chain reaction. Her eyes burst open, her arms spasming out to the sides. The force of her surprise knocks him away and her body folds under. He's after her in the same breath, hauling her back up. She splutters and coughs out water before launching herself at him. He expects a blow. He goes rigid with shock when her arms wrap around his neck and she buries her face against him. 

He's seen her face down countless demons and Venatori. Never has she sounded more scared than she does now. 

“You said you wouldn't let go! You promised! You have to keep your promises!” She sounds dangerously close to tears. 

Lucanis cradles her against him. One hand around her lower back lifting her up out of the water, the other at the base of her neck, tangled in her hair. 

“I'm sorry, mi amor. I'm sorry.” He soothes, not registering what he's just called her. 

Slowly her shuddering subsides and she loosens her grip enough to draw back and look at him. “Mi amor?” She asks quietly. 

He considers lying, claiming she misheard. In the end he says, “Si.” 

She studies him for a moment. Reaches up a tentative hand to cup his cheek. His own breath is far from steady and sure. 

“Then we keep our promises.” He feels like she might mean more than just their swimming lessons. That she might be thinking of the larger threat looming over them and their promises to face it together, to make it through.

”Crows keep their contracts.” Looking into the depths of her eyes, he thinks she might be one contract he never wants to complete. The thought terrifies him. A feeling like he’s trapped in the Ossuary, the walls cracking around him ready to bury him in a watery grave. 

He can fight gods for her. But himself? The demon locked within? How could he possibly protect her from that?

“I think that's enough swimming lessons for today.” 

She rolls her eyes “More like drowning lessons.”

Ah yes, drowning indeed. 

[aspenmissing]

ᴄᴀɴᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴛ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ? || 1245 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ? (ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜱᴜʀᴇ), ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʜɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ?

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ɪɴ ᴘɪʟᴛᴏᴠᴇʀ’ꜱ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴏᴛɪᴄ ʟᴀʙ, ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ᴇɴꜰᴏʀᴄᴇꜱ ʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀɴᴇ, ᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴɪɴɢ ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏ/ɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅ ʜᴇʟᴘɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴛɪᴋᴛᴏᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ꜱᴇᴇɴ, ꜰᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ꜰɪɴᴅ ɪᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ!

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ

The laboratory had seen countless innovations over the years, but none were as infamous—or as feared—as Viktor’s cane. What had started as an innocuous habit of independence had turned into a Pavlovian nightmare for Jayce and Y/N.

Jayce was the first to bear witness to Viktor's infamous cane. It happened on a seemingly ordinary day while the two were deep in brainstorming. Viktor, perched on his chair, shifted slightly as a schematic slipped from the workbench and fluttered to the floor.

Without thinking, Jayce, the ever helpful and sweet man, sprang up. “Here, let me—”

CLANK.

Jayce yelped as the cane met his shin with surprising precision. “Ow!" Jayce quickly holds his shin, rubbing it with a pout. "What was that for?”

“I do not require assistance,” Viktor said, his tone almost bored. “If I did, you would know.”

Jayce stared at him, eyes wide with a mix of confusion and indignation, as Viktor calmly picked up the schematic. “Was it really necessary to hit me that hard?”

“Quite,” Viktor replied. “You will learn.”

Months later, Y/N experienced her own initiation. Viktor was leaning against his workbench, examining a particularly intricate piece of tech when he started to wobble slightly.

Instinct kicked in. Y/N, the sweet woman she too is, darted forward, hands outstretched to steady him. “Careful, Vik—”

WHACK.

The cane struck her ankle with unerring accuracy. Y/N let out a strangled “Ow!” before hopping back. “What the hell was that for?”

Viktor straightened himself, not even sparing her a glance. “If I needed you to catch me, you’d know. I prefer to remain upright of my own accord.”

Y/N glared at him, massaging her ankle. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible, but standing,” he quipped, not missing a beat.

Jayce, ever the optimist, hadn’t yet fully learned his lesson. On a quiet morning, Viktor was engrossed in adjusting the settings of a prototype. The delicate tool he was using slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor.

Jayce, predictably, reacted first. “Let me get that for you—”

THWACK.

“Damn it, Viktor!” Jayce exclaimed, clutching his shin.

“I told you once already,” Viktor said without looking up, “and yet you persist. Perhaps repetition will drive the point home.”

It had been nearly a year since her first encounter with Viktor’s cane, but Y/N wasn’t one to let things slide. When Viktor staggered slightly during a late-night experiment, she moved to his side.

“Viktor, I can—”

SMACK.

Y/N cursed loudly, hopping away. She looks over to see Viktor drawing a line in his journal, besides her name. “Are you keeping a tally or something?!”

“Merely ensuring consistency,” Viktor replied, deadpan as he looks down at his journal.

Y/N: II Jayce: IIII IIII I

Over the years, Jayce and Y/N had been thoroughly conditioned by Viktor’s Cane of Discipline. At this point, Viktor only needed to lift the cane slightly, and both would flinch instinctively, muttering curses under their breaths. It became an unspoken rule between them:

Do not help Viktor unless explicitly asked.

Viktor soon realized just how well they adhered to this rule. Too well, in fact. The two would often grab at each other, a frantic race to stop the other from succumbing to old habits, both knowing the inevitable pain that would follow if they failed.

Y/N, for her part, learned quicker than Jayce. Her last attempt to help Viktor had been particularly memorable. She’d darted forward to steady him during a stumble, her reflexes swift enough to dodge the first swipe of the cane.

“Ha!” she’d crowed, turning to flash Jayce a triumphant smirk.

Her victory was short-lived. SMACK.

The cane struck squarely across her two precious cheeks, the sharp CRACK echoing through the lab. Y/N’s triumphant grin vanished in an instant, falling to her knees as her hands go straight to holding the two victims of the brutal attack. Beside her, Jayce let out an audible gasp of pain, wincing as though he had felt the blow himself. Meanwhile, Viktor straightened with deliberate calm, a smug arch lifting his brow as he tapped his cane lightly against the floor.

“Hubris,” he’d remarked calmly, tapping the cane on the floor for emphasis. "Always someone's downfall."

Y/N had to sleep on her stomach that night, grumbling into her pillow while Jayce dutifully rubbed soothing oil into her bruises, trying—and failing—not to laugh.

Recently, however, Viktor had begun taking his little “experiment” beyond the confines of the lab. His public “jokes” were a new form of torment, designed to test just how thoroughly he had conditioned his partners.

The trio decided to grab lunch at the bustling market square. The fresh air and lively chatter were a welcome change from the lab’s stifling atmosphere—or at least, that’s what Jayce told himself while limping slightly.

Viktor, walking slightly ahead, deliberately dropped his gloves.

“Oh, no,” Viktor said, feigning concern. “It seems I’ve dropped something.” He began bending down at an exaggeratedly slow pace.

Jayce and Y/N froze. They exchanged a quick, panicked look like two deer in headlights. On instinct, Y/N took half a step forward before remembering the last time she’d tried to help him. Her ankle still ached from that day. She quickly stepped back.

“Don’t worry,” Viktor said loudly, drawing the attention of passersby. “I can handle it myself.”

A passing couple stopped to watch, their judgmental eyes flicking between the struggling Viktor and his unmoving companions.

“What’s wrong with them?” one whispered loudly. “He clearly needs help!”

Jayce flushed crimson. “It’s not—we’re not—” He stammered, desperate to explain, but the words tangled in his throat.

Y/N crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Oh, for the love of—he’s fine. Trust me.”

Viktor straightened slowly, gloves in hand, his face the picture of innocent triumph. “Thank you for your concern,” he said, addressing the bystanders with mock gratitude. “It’s so rare to see kindness these days.”

The couple shot Jayce and Y/N a final disapproving glare before walking away, muttering under their breath.

Jayce groaned. “You know, Viktor, one of these days, someone’s going to call the Enforcers on us because they think we’re mistreating you.”

“And whose fault would that be?” Viktor replied with a sly grin. “If you two didn’t look so guilty.”

“I’m not guilty!” Jayce protested, voice cracking slightly.

Y/N rolled her eyes, nudging him in the ribs. “Keep it up, and you’re going to end up with a cane-shaped bruise on your ass trying to defend our honour.”

By the time they got back to the lab, Jayce’s nerves were thoroughly fried. He flopped onto a chair with a dramatic sigh, rubbing his face while Viktor calmly adjusted his cane, the very picture of composure.

“I don’t get why you do this,” Jayce grumbled, his voice muffled through his hands.

Viktor shrugged, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “A bit of humor keeps life interesting, no?”

Y/N crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “You know, one of these days, I’m going to steal that cane while you’re napping.”

“Ah,” Viktor said, the smirk growing into a wicked grin. “Then I’d simply build a new one. With enhancements. Perhaps a shock mechanism for particularly unhelpful partners.”

Jayce sat bolt upright, his face paling. “You wouldn’t.”

Viktor’s expression turned deadly serious as he leaned on the cane for emphasis. “Try me.”

Jayce turned to Y/N with pleading eyes. “Please, for the love of everything holy, don’t take his cane.”

Y/N shook her head, muttering under her breath, “Coward.”

The three of them stood there in a silent standoff, tension thickened by a mixture of mutual exasperation and the unspoken bond of affection.

It was just another perfectly chaotic day in Piltover’s most dysfunctional genius trio.

[heliosunny]

Can we have a part 2 of yandere Mydei x knight reader plsss

Yandere!Mydei x Knight!Reader

[part 1] [part 2]

After the ballroom incident, you knew one thing for certain, you had to escape. But escaping Mydei was easier said than done. Especially when he was already expecting it.

The moon is high in the sky when you make your move. The corridors of the palace are eerily silent, the flickering torches casting long shadows on the stone walls. Mydei had kept you under constant watch after the incident with Lord Aldric, but tonight, he had been called away for an urgent diplomatic matter.

With practiced stealth, you slip through the hallways, dressed in dark clothing stolen from the armory. Your weapons are hidden beneath your cloak, and beneath your gloves, the scars of your assassin days itch, as if reminding you of who you truly are.

You are not a knight. You are not his.

You are a weapon, and tonight, you will be free.

Your heart pounds as you reach the palace walls. The outer gates loom ahead, heavily guarded—but the servant passage through the western courtyard remains unguarded at this hour.

"Going somewhere, my dear?"

The voice freezes you in place. whipped around, only to find yourself face-to-face with him.

He stands before you in the dim moonlight, his golden eyes gleaming like a beast that had finally caught its prey.

There is no anger in his expression, only amusement.

"You disappoint me" he sighs, taking a step forward. You instinctively step back, but the stone wall behind you halts your retreat.

"Did you truly believe I wouldn’t anticipate this?" he murmurs, tilting his head.

Your hands twitch toward your weapons.

"Go ahead" he encourages, spreading his arms as if daring you to strike.

Your fingers brush the dagger at your belt—but you hesitate. Something in your gut warns you this is exactly what he wants.

"Hmm…" Mydei hums, stepping closer. "No? Pity. I was looking forward to a little struggle."

Before you can react, his hand clamps around your throat. Your breath cuts off. Not enough to choke you. Not yet. But enough to remind you—he is stronger than you think.

"Do you think I will punish you for this?" he whispers, his thumb brushing against the racing pulse at your throat. "Oh, my dear… this is not punishment."

He leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear.

"This is a lesson."

You try to wrench away, but Mydei is faster.

In a single movement, he spins you, pressing your back firmly against the stone wall, his gloved hand pinning your wrists above your head. The cold night air bites at your skin, but his body is warm, suffocating, inescapable.

"Did you really think I would let you go?" he murmurs, his voice dipping into something darker.

"No" he breathes, his golden eyes alight with twisted satisfaction. "You are mine. And if you run… I will always catch you."

He releases one of your wrists, only to slide his hand down, tracing the length of your arm with a mockery of tenderness.

"Shall I prove it to you?" he murmurs.

Your legs buckle as a sharp pressure strikes your side. You gasp, barely managing to keep from crying out. Mydei watches your reaction closely, as if studying the exact moment your defiance begins to crumble.

"Not deep" he comments, withdrawing his dagger from your side. A gloved finger smears the blood against your cloak. "Just enough to remind you."

You glare at him, but your body trembles despite yourself.

"You will not die from this" he assures, almost lovingly. "But you will remember it."

His hand trails lower, pressing against your wound just enough to make you shudder in pain.

"You will remember that no matter how far you run… no matter how hard you fight…"

He leans in, his lips brushing against your temple.

"You are already caught."

You curse him, struggling against his grip—but he merely laughs, tightening his hold.

"That’s it," he whispers, relishing your desperation. "Show me more, my dear. Fight me. Hate me. But never forget—"

"You will never be free of me."

You failed to escape.

Now, Mydei tends to your wound—but his touch is anything but gentle.

The world tilts as Mydei carries you.

His arms are firm, unwavering, as he strides back through the palace halls. You barely register the movement—your wound burns, the fabric of your stolen cloak sticking to your side with warm, wet blood.

But worse than the pain is his voice.

"Ah… such a foolish thing you are" Mydei murmurs, almost mockingly, his golden eyes never leaving your face. "And yet, I cannot find it in me to be angry."

You force yourself to stay silent. If you speak, you’ll curse him. And right now, you can’t afford to anger him more than you already have.

"I wonder" he continues, his grip tightening around you as he carries you up a grand staircase. "Did you hesitate to kill me? Or was I simply faster?"

You are placed on a lavish bed within his private chambers. The fire crackles in the hearth, casting the room in a golden glow, but the warmth does little to thaw the ice in your veins.

"Take that off" Mydei commands smoothly, nodding toward your bloodied cloak. "Unless you wish for me to do it for you."

Your fingers twitch toward your dagger—before you remember that he took it.

With a slow, deliberate motion, you remove the cloak, the fabric sliding from your shoulders as you reveal your wound. The cut isn’t deep, but it bleeds enough to weaken you. Mydei watches intently, his gaze heavy, unreadable.

"Good" he murmurs, reaching for a cloth and a glass vial.

A familiar scent hits you immediately—medicinal wine. You barely have a moment to brace before a sharp sting burns through your side.

You flinch, a hiss escaping through gritted teeth as the alcohol sears the wound.

And Mydei… his grip on your waist tightens, keeping you from pulling away.

"Painful?" he asks, his voice mockingly gentle.

You glare at him.

"Good," he breathes. "Remember it."

His fingers brush against your skin "I could have made this worse for you," Mydei murmurs, his golden eyes flickering with something dark and unreadable. "But you are lucky I am merciful."

Merciful. The very thought makes you want to laugh. Instead, you bite back your pain, keeping your expression void of weakness.

"You call this mercy?" you manage, voice hoarse.

Mydei chuckles.

"If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be breathing right now."

His hand lingers against your exposed skin, tracing the curve of your waist with an unsettling sense of ownership.

"I wonder," he muses, his voice dropping lower, "if I should mark you another way—so you never forget who you belong to."

The room feels smaller. His presence is suffocating.

"But no" Mydei decides, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Not yet."

His touch finally withdraws—but not before he presses a kiss just above your wound.

"Rest, my dear," Mydei whispers against your skin. "You won’t be going anywhere for a long, long time."

And with that, he rises, leaving you in the golden glow of the fire, with nothing but the sting of your wound.

-----

A noble lady visits Mydei far too often.

You don’t care—at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

But when you notice something off about her, you realize that your indifference might cost Mydei his life.

Lady Callista of House Vernay. Beautiful and relentlessly persistent. She has been fluttering about the palace like a bird of prey, visiting Mydei under the guise of "diplomatic talks."

But everyone knows the truth.

She is courting him. And Mydei lets her.

You watch from the shadows, seething.

Not from jealousy.

You simply find her annoying.

Her saccharine voice drips with false charm whenever she speaks to Mydei. Her delicate fingers rest on his arm too easily, her eyes glimmering with an admiration that makes you feel… something unpleasant.

And worse?

Mydei does nothing to stop her.

One evening, you are passing through the palace gardens when you see her again. But this time, she isn’t with Mydei. She is alone—speaking in hushed tones to a cloaked figure.

You slip into the shadows, ears sharpening as their words drift toward you.

"…the poison must be slow. It cannot be obvious," Lady Callista murmurs. "I want him to grow weak over time. I want him to trust me before he dies."

Poison.

She is plotting against him.

Your fingers twitch toward your concealed dagger. You could end this right now. A single strike, a precise cut—Lady Callista’s pretty little plan would die along with her.

But you hesitate. Not because you care for her life.

But because you need to know why.

Why does she want Mydei dead?

And more importantly—how much time does he have?

You move swiftly, finding Mydei in his private study. He is alone, reading over documents. He barely looks up when you enter—but he knows.

"You have something to say" he began, setting his papers aside.

"Lady Callista is trying to poison you."

He laughed. Not a loud, mocking laugh, but a low, amused chuckle.

"Oh? And you care because…?"

You scowl.

"I don’t care." The words are sharp, biting. "I just thought you should know before you drink from the wrong cup and drop dead like an idiot."

He leans back, smiling.

"How dutiful of you, my dear knight."

You grit your teeth.

"This isn’t a game, Mydei. She wants you dead."

His amusement doesn’t fade.

If anything, it deepens.

"Then perhaps I should let her try," he muses, watching you carefully. "I wonder�� would you let her succeed?"

You couldn't say a word.

"No?" he breathes, leaning forward. "Then tell me, my dear... why?"

Yeah, why? Why does the thought of someone else killing him make you furious?

Mydei sees the conflict in your eyes.

"How delightful" he murmurs, reaching for your hand. "It seems you aren’t as indifferent as you claim to be."

His fingers curl around yours.

"So tell me…" Mydei whispers, voice smooth as silk. "What shall we do about Lady Callista?"

And just like that—

You realize you have already chosen a side.

Lady Callista is cunning.

She knows she cannot kill Mydei directly.

So instead—she tries to eliminate you.

And Mydei watches it all unfold.

The grand banquet hall is filled with laughter, music, and the rich scent of wine. Noble guests mingle, their silken garments shimmering. Mydei sits at the head of the grand table. And at his side?

Lady Callista.

You stand in the shadows, unwilling to partake in the pointless pleasantries. But your eyes never leave her. Because you know what she is. A snake in silk. And tonight, she finally bares her fangs.

"Your Highness," Lady Callista suddenly speaks, her voice carrying across the hall. "I must bring something grave to your attention."

The room falls silent.

Mydei lifts a golden goblet to his lips, unbothered. "Oh?"

Lady Callista rises from her seat.

She turns toward you and points.

"Your Majesty, this assassin has been plotting against you."

Murmurs ripple through the hall. Eyes turn to you.

And yet—you do not react.

Because you expected this.

"Oh?" Mydei leans forward, interested. "How intriguing. Do tell, my lady."

Lady Callista presses a hand to her chest, feigning concern. "I have reason to believe this assassin has been poisoning your wine. I witnessed them lurking near the kitchens, slipping something into your cup just this evening."

Gasps. The nobles whisper amongst themselves.

She was the one poisoning his wine.

She is simply trying to frame you before you expose her.

Mydei hums, twirling his goblet. "Is that so?"

"How bold of you, Lady Callista," you say smoothly. "To claim I poisoned his wine… when I saw you do the very same."

The hall erupts into new whispers.

Lady Callista’s smile tightens. "You lie."

You tilt your head. "Do I?"

With measured steps, you approach Mydei’s goblet, lifting it before the watching crowd.

And you drink.

The nobles gasp.

Lady Callista’s face loses color.

Because she knows—she did, in fact, poison it.

You lower the goblet. The taste is bitter, but you’ve trained your body to resist weaker poisons.

"How strange," you murmur. "If I had poisoned this wine, I’d be dead by now."

Your gaze flicks to Lady Callista.

"Shall I fetch you a cup, my lady?"

She stiffens. She knows she has been caught.

The nobles begin to whisper amongst themselves—doubt creeping into their expressions.

And Mydei?

He laughs.

"Oh, how delightful," he muses, golden eyes gleaming. "A web of deception spun in my very halls."

Then, he stands. In one fluid motion, he turns to Lady Callista.

"You seem nervous, my lady" Mydei remarks. "Shall I have my physician examine you? Or better yet… perhaps you should try my wine yourself?"

She shakes her head. "Your Highness, I—"

She never finishes. Because Mydei grabs her wrist. And in the next second—he forces the goblet to her lips. She chokes, wine spilling down her chin as she struggles.

The nobles gasp in horror.

"Drink."

Lady Callista sputters, eyes filling with terror as she falls to the floor. Her body convulses, her breaths turning ragged—before she finally falls still.

The room is silent.

Mydei turns back to you.

His golden eyes gleam with satisfaction.

"How fortunate that you were here to reveal such treachery," he murmurs. "It seems you truly are mine, after all."

You have removed your greatest rival.

And in doing so, you have only bound yourself closer to him.

[vxlenst3in]

Atta girl ✧ High Noon Yone x fem!reader tw: degradation, creampie, abuse (i think??), spanking, forced breeding, dub con (if theres anything else let me know<3) an: i wrote this a while ago when hn yone got first leaked, so if any new lore dropped - i wouldn't know. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . You swore to yourself that you’d kill every single one of those damn devils — without a single exception. You promised to avenge all the poor souls that got killed by those who made a pact with a devil. Not only that, but you’d give your life to free the west from its curse. It was the least you could do after failing so miserably to save others. So why were you bent over the saloon counter while a man rutted into you? Why were you moaning and whining his name? The name of a man who had made a pact with a devil. Bounty hunter Yone. Such an ironic title when you consider that there’s a high bounty on him as well. He hated devils, too — more than anything. His hatred took him so far that he became one of them. And god, you were thankful for it. Your thoughts were clearly getting manipulated by your tight cunt that was squeezing around his girth so deliciously that it made him growl into your ear. He wasn’t even trying to be quiet — the saloon might’ve been empty, but he wanted everyone to hear that walked by, how he was fucking this once so proud and snobbery woman into his little bitch. How she slowly became his dumb slut. Yone’s hands were on your hips as he thrusted into you from behind, pressing his pelvis against your ass while he leaned forward to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. One hand wandered up your throat, grabbing your chin with it and pulling your head back. His lips were barely two inches away from yours — “Aren’t ya just so pathetic?” He purred. “Just half an hour ago ya were soooo confident about killin’ me, tellin’ me how much ya hated ‘my kind’, how selfish I am, and now… You’re soakin’ and suckin’ in my cock like it’s ya’s life purpose.” The low growl in his voice was making your walls flutter around his dick. You hated to admit how good this felt. His hands were cold, freezing even. They sent shivers down your spine with every touch. He had this frightening and overwhelming aura that seemed to become more distinct with every thrust. His hand let go of your face after he saw the tears roll down your cheeks, proud of his work. From the corner of your eye, you could see his cocky grin. 

squeeze 

“Oh, fuck…!” He cursed. “Makes you this horny? Nasty bitch. Gon’ teach ya a lesson… Make…Ah~ ya regret facin’ me.” Your walls kept pulsating around his cock, massaging all of it like your cunt was made for him. It was driving him crazy, low grunts escaping his throat. 

He spread your ass cheeks with his two broad hands - one gloved. Groans of satisfaction as he looked at the sight. Letting go of one and giving it a hard smack right after, leaving a stinging pain which made you whine out. Music to his ears. Another smack. 

And another.

And another. 

“That ass already looked good in those tight ass jeans ya were wearin’ - but I didn’t expect it to look this good without ‘em” He could feel himself getting harder at the sight, growing even bigger inside of you. “Gon’ make you ride me next time. Want to see that pretty ass bounce on my fat cock. Better show me how much of a cowgirl ya truly are.” 

You turned your face to him, where he was already looking at you with the same cocky smile he had before. The pale skin in combination with his flaming orange eyes made your heart skip a beat. You never thought you’d think of a devil as handsome. Tears were streaming down your face as he continued to abuse your cunt to the best of his abilities. 

Yasuo warned you of him — No, everyone warned you of him, but you didn’t want to listen. You were so confident in being able to defeat him, in being able to get one step closer to peace in the west. And here you were, squirming underneath him, sobbing because his cock just hits all the right spots too damn good, begging him to fuck you harder, to abuse your cunt just a little more because in reality you were a pathetic masochist, who loved that he treated you like a piece of fuck meat. You were begging him to fill you up with his hot seed, to make a mess out of you and your cunt - to mark it as his. 

You didn’t care about the peace of the west anymore. All you could think about was Yone’s cock buried deep inside your pussy while his hands were kneading your ass in such a nice but rough manner. You wanted to cum all over his dick again and again and again. 

“Oh shit, darlin’ - gonna cum. Gon’ fill your tiny little pussy with my seed, ya want that? Fuck~ Tell me how badly ya want it, sweetheart. Tell me how badly ya want to get bred by me.” Yone commanded, the same low husky tone as before. 

Oh, how much this man turned you on, with his stupid low voice and his stupid grunts. “Yo- Ah~ Fuck… Please…fill me up…” 

“Atta girl!” 

His sloppy thrusts eventually ended up in him burying himself deep inside you, filling you up with all he has. The twitching feeling of his cock and the noises he made really hit you hard, making you squirt around him, ruining his chaps. Soft whines and pants leaving your lips. Yone threw his head back at the feeling, his hat almost falling off his head.  A split second before he pulled his cock out, looking at his cum oozing out of your cunt. Yours and his fluids were mixing together on the floor. He slurred out some quiet words, while spreading your pussy to really take in the view. "Think ya can take another round?"

[tarotwithavi]

Stop making excuses

Every day, many of us dream big. We think about the things we want to achieve like getting a good job, becoming healthy, starting a business, or learning a new skill. But often, these dreams remain just that , dreams. Why? Because we make excuses. We tell ourselves, "I'm too tired," "I don't have enough time," "I'm not good enough," or "It's too hard." These excuses become walls that stop us from moving forward. But the truth is, we are capable of so much more than we think. We can do anything and everything if we stop making excuses and start believing in ourselves.

The world is full of people who faced challenges but still did amazing things. They weren’t different from us. They didn’t have extra hours in a day or superpowers. What they did have was determination. They chose to see obstacles as opportunities, not excuses. When life got tough, they didn’t give up; they pushed harder. They knew that doing their best was the only way to reach their goals.

When we make excuses, we limit ourselves. It’s like tying our own hands behind our backs. Imagine wanting to run a marathon but never training because you keep telling yourself, “I’m not a runner.” How will you ever know your true potential if you don’t try? The same applies to every area of life. Whether it's learning something new, starting a project, or making a change, the first step is to stop the excuses and start taking action.

Excuses are comforting because they keep us in our comfort zones. But remember, nothing great ever happens in the comfort zone. Growth happens when we step out of it, face our fears, and challenge ourselves. Yes, it might be scary, and yes, we might fail. But every failure is a lesson. Every setback is a chance to come back stronger.

So, next time you catch yourself making an excuse, pause and ask: “What if I tried instead?” Replace “I can’t” with “I can” and “It’s too hard” with “I’ll try my best.” You will find that your mindset changes, and with it, your actions. Instead of avoiding challenges, you’ll start seeking them. Instead of saying, “I don’t have time,” you’ll make time.

Believe in yourself and your abilities. You have the power to do anything and everything. Your only limit is the one you set for yourself. Stop making excuses and start doing your best today. The world is waiting for you to show what you can achieve. Remember, the journey to greatness begins with a single step and that step is choosing not to make excuses.

[traumawhomst]

Vampire v Hunter Fledgling let’s goooo

Tw: Reader is fatally wounded and dies but it is not shown graphically.

Honestly it was cute in the beginning, to be singled out by a Hunter, it hadn’t happened in centuries. It was a bit of an ego boost to think his name was still being spread.

The first time he sees them he almost coos, looking at this twee Hunter, all serious in their leathers, a black mask staring at Him across the room. What really piqued his interest was the fact that they never spoke.

Their first fight was more, well, a play fight for him if he was honest. He threw insults and witticisms trying to get a reaction from the Hunter with no luck. No matter how much he mocked and belittled them, they never once spoke back. Or really make noise other than grunts or slight groans due to exertion. It was charming actually, so many Hunters had their little speeches ready, about their tragic life or to mock Him, or worse go on a tirade about ‘good’ and ‘evil’. Those ones never lasted long, too caught up in their egos to focus on the extremely hard task of actually killing a vampire.

If they’re silent well, that means business, a single minded focus that He could respect. So he lets them live after the first fight. A reward for tracking him down when so many had failed in the first place, something to soften the failure of trying to kill him. He figured he’d never see them again, and he was feeling generous.

Oh but you had to keep finding Him didn’t you? Second time you ambushed him he chalked it to dumb luck, and fought you off with him seriously pulling his punches. You were still silent and nothing he seemed to say got you to crack. The third time was just annoying, he was headed to a party hosted by a dear friend, only to find you waiting right outside for him. He didn’t kill you that time, mostly because he didn’t want to be more late because than he already was.

The fourth time you appeared he was completely done with the situation. It has been fun the first few times but it was starting to seem like you needed a harsher lesson. He was going to just break a limb or something, force you to stop for a while.

And then you winged him, the spike firmly lodged in his left arm. That’s when he was done playing. Faster than you could see he moved forward and threw you into the nearest wall.

It was pitiful, even if he didn’t have much pity at the moment, to see you on your side breathing ragged your body too hurt to even curl into yourself. He pulled out the stake complaining about his shirt and the hole left behind as he strolled up to the Hunter who was trying and failing to reach their cross-bow stake launcher, and He stepped on it, breaking it with a satisfying crunch.

The Hunters hand fell and their body stilled as he got closer.

“Honestly, if a vampire beats you three times you should learn your lesson. I was being quite generous with you, but the ‘indomitable human spirit etcetera’,” he said his tone bored, as he prodded at the Hunter’s quivering body. “That would be the shock settling in,” he said blithely, going to stand up before changing his mind. “Actually,” which was the only warning you got when he pulled off the mask and you closed your eyes waiting for the killing blow.

When you looked at Him, abject horror was not what you expected to see on his face. Had you been injured that bad? You don’t think he got your face. The Vampire’s face was glued to yours and for a moment you were unsure if the silence was worse than a quick death.

“You’re eleven!” He balked pulling back for a second. He was of course off by a decade more or less, but the thought was still mildly annoying.

“Who’s letting you do this? Where did you get your equipment? Where in gods name are your parents?”

From your limited prospective he seemed to be having a complete mental breakdown. He kept speaking in some language you didn’t recognize as he looked over your body again and again. Then his eyes seemed to get wider as he remembered that you were in fact dying at the moment. There was no hospital near enough even with his supernatural speed it wouldn’t be enough time, even if someone came at this very moment he didn’t like your odds of survival.

Part of you relaxed when he finally bit down on your wrist, some of it due to his venom, but the other smaller part who was just ready for the pain to end.

You had not expected to come to, still laying on the ground as a seeping cold numbness grew. Your body hurt but not like it had before, somehow this pain was more terrifying. You spoke for the first time, asking in a broken voice what he’d done to you.

He on the other had just seemed relieved to see you awake. “I saved you darling,” he said running a hand over your head. “You don’t have to worry about anything ever again.”

How big of a lie it was.

[geminimoonmadness]

NATAL

RETROGRADES

Copywrites Reserved ©️GeminiMoonMadness

A retrograde in astrology is when a planetary object appears to move backwards, which essentially means the planet's energy is somewhat effected, so those life areas that fall under that planet's domain are not as easily expressed. It’s a very karmic thing to have in the natal chart, your soul chose to incarnate to learn deeper lessons regarding the areas of life ruled by that specific planet/asteroid. To know if you have a natal retrograde in your chart, look for Rx or R on a generated chart calculator.

Fun fact: Mars is the rarest retrograde.

❤️🖤❤️

Planets

If your Ruling Planet is Retrograde it will make you doubt yourself more and you may experience self image issues.

For example: A Gemini Rising with a natal Mercury retrograde or A Sagittarius Rising with a natal Jupiter retrograde.

Mercury Retrograde gives you lessons around communication, learning and intellect. You may struggle to articulate words and speak up or may even talk too much and not know when to be quiet.

Venus Retrograde makes someone’s nature more intense & deep. They take their connections very seriously which may cause these individuals to go through difficulties in regards to their one on one relationships. Since socialising is not taken lightly there can be some sort of awkwardness when participating in small talk and general shyness in order to avoid superficial connections.

Mars Retrograde individuals may lack forward movement, assertive abilities, have a dulled passion & drive. They may feel fatigued & tired more than often. Your sex drive may also be effected because of this.

Jupiter Retrograde individuals tend to have different or unusual perspectives, belief systems, or sets of morals. They prefer to learn from their own experiences rather than from others. This placement gives me “what do you know because you’ve experienced it yourself VS what do you know because you were told” vibes.

Saturn Regrograde burdens you with responsibilities and a sense of duty in your life. You may struggle with boundaries and find it difficult to say no to others.

Uranus Retrograde may make it hard for you to fully express your inner originality and unique side. These individuals are born a rebel and may also experience unexpected & sudden karmic events in their life.

Neptune Retrograde takes away your rose coloured glasses, you may have to face hard and painful realities as the neptunian illusion is stripped away. You’re meant to discover the truth behind your illusions, realise what is sacred and be a source of light in others lives.

Pluto Retrograde brings more growth opportunities into your life. You may have a fear of letting go which you’re here to learn the importance of doing so. You need to take control of your life as your shadow side may take over if you don’t do the work to transform/grow. (Shadow work is necessary with this placement)

(I know Lilith isn’t a planet, just adding it)

Lilith Retrograde can make you a sexual deviant (because sexuality is part of Lilith’s nature and here it's manifesting differently). You may struggle with following your instincts and acknowledging your desires. For example: Someone with a retrograde Lilith in Virgo would not be the typical control freak Lilith in Virgo person, instead they will be very messy.

ASTEROIDS

Chiron Retrograde means that trauma is deep within and may even come from a past life. In this lifetime, these individuals are here to re-evaluate your relationship with anyone & anything that doesn’t support you anymore. They may find it challenging to accept their feelings and the simple fact that humans are imperfect and vulnerable.

Ceres Retrograde individuals can struggle with having the nourishment, support, resources they need and may experience a lack in some way. This usually means that your upbringing failed to teach you the proper lessons about nurture and self care, so you'll have to learn it yourself. Check your Ceres sign and it will teach you what you need to nurture.

Juno Retrograde individuals may have commitment issues or trauma they need to work through. This also is an indication of past life karma in regards to relationships. These people are the lone wolves, they tend to avoid partnerships & may even prefer to be single and independent.

Vesta Retrograde individuals may lack devotion and discipline. It can bring up issues around fear of sexuality or intimacy, obsession, prostitution or selling yourself short in some way. They’re here to learn the value of service, this will examine how much dedication they’re putting into their life. When we put in little dedication, we can suffer. When we put in too much dedication, we can suffer as well. They may struggle with feeling like they fit in because they tend to lack devotion and/or generosity for others.

Pallas Retrograde may make someone aggressive, immature, have criminal tendencies and daddy issues. These individuals strategy may not be accept by society, with a ‘pick me’ vibe. They are inclined to manipulate and lie but can overcome these traits with self awareness and shadow work.

Amor retrograde individuals have some sort of discomfort when it comes to romance. You may have some old love issues and traumas to work through. These people tend to take a different approach to romance.

Cupido Retrograde may mean you have way too many crushes or rarely have any. You become too infatuated at times, or lack passion, and need to find a balance between the two.

Eros Retrograde may cause some issues around sex. This indicates there may be past trauma on a soul level, so you need to work on acknowledging your desires and acting on urges and fantasies in a healthy way.

Hermes Retrograde people tend to be in the wrong crowd and often find themselves taking the fall for others mistakes. These people tend to be good people but they may not be the best at balancing their life and managing their time. Possible fertility issues. Due to past accidents or incidents they have experienced in a past life may give them travel-related fears in this life. (fear of flying, fear of water, fear of driving, fear of bikes, fear of trains, fear of horses, etc.)

Eris Retrograde people may unintentionally cause trouble by doing things they thought wouldn’t be an issue. They may not like confronting others because it feels uncomfortable or they feel attacked whenever they speak up for themselves - They tend to experience a lot of gaslighting yet they usually hate fighting with others. They may often feel as though they are alone even when surrounded by other people.

Aphrodite Retrograde individuals may experience extremes from having stalkers to not being adored by others at all. They may feel unseen and unappreciated by others, making it often difficult to appreciate themselves. They tend to experience a lot of drama and may not be the most jealous person but rather the person who is too insecure to be openly jealous as if it’s like they expected it, “too good to be true” vibes.

❤️🖤❤️

I tried to be as informative as I could and added as much variety as I can with the asteroids I’m familiar with. There are other retrogrades I haven’t listed here.

Let me know which of these you have!

[tomssexdoll]

Under His Strings

PAIRINGS: Tom 2014 x Female reader

CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: Tom is Y/Ns private guitar teacher. One day when she shows up she couldn't get the song right, failing almost every time she played, she could sense his frustration and used it to her advantage, teasing him until breaking point.

A/N: ur all amazing ily

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), mutual masturbation (handjob, fingering), a lot of teasing, degrading, age gap (5 years)

Tom was my guitar teacher, I took private lessons with him, I do have to admit they were expensive but Tom always gave me a discount, calling me his favourite student. I loved every session with him, he was patient, gentle and funny, he always bought us food and let the lesson go overtime.

He was in a band when he was younger, retiring to teach people guitar. He was a bit older, 27 to be exact. I was only 22, looking to learn guitar as a little hobby, the city I lived in being super boring.

When I wasn't learning guitar with Tom, I was at school. I came in one day for my usual lesson, I sat down on his fancy, red leather couch, grabbing one of his guitars and setting it in my lap, waiting for him to show up.

Shortly after he entered the room, his eyes scanning the room before settling on me. He sauntered over, his muscular physique clearly visible under his grey shirt. He took notice of my smile and returned it with a charming smile, "good morning, ready for your lesson?" he sat down next to me, grabbing a guitar too and facing me.

I nodded, "yep! Let's get started," I smiled brightly, grabbing my notes sheet, looking at the song I was due to play. He chuckled at my enthusiasm, grabbing the aux and plugging them into the speakers and guitar.

"Alright then, pay attention to the chord progressions and let your fingers find the notes naturally," he looked up at me from his guitar, making sure my fingers were in the right spots.

I began to play the song, messing up a few times, not able to get the rhythm right. I could tell he was growing a little bit frustrated, I usually had the ability to catch on pretty quickly but this song was difficult.

He let out a deep sigh, "I know you can do better than this, try again," he watched me play again, yet there was no improvement, only worsening due to the pressure of him watching me.

"Tom I can't!" I sighed, frowning deeply, his expression turned stern, eyes narrowing as he studied my performance, "can't or wont? Because right now, it looks like you're not even trying," he reached out, taking my hand, his large fingers wrapping around mine as he placed it on the fretboard. "You have potential Y/N, sometimes you just...don't try hard enough," he kept his hand on mine for a little too long, rubbing his thumb over my skin.

"Tom you don't understand, I am trying!" I whined, upset with how strict he was being. His eyes flashed with a hint of anger, his grip on my hand tightening tightly.

"Understand? I understand that you're struggling, but that's no excuse for mediocrity, I've taught you well and will not tolerate this from you," he leaned in, "whatever..." I muttered, pulling my hand away from his and focusing on my guitar again.

I started to play again, Tom watching me for a few moments, his expression unreadable. He leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest as he observed my progress. "No, no, no. You're still rushing the chorus. Slow down, take your time with it," I grunted and set the guitar aside, "well I can't help it if you're watching me like a fucking hawk!" I raised my voice, my tone laced with frustration.

He raised an eyebrow at my outburst, scooting closer. He took a deep breath, leaning forward to place a hand on my knee, "that's enough. I'm just trying to help you improve, let's try again," he looked into my eyes, reaching up and gently squeezing my shoulder before letting go and handing my guitar back to me.

Tom watched me intently, his eyes following every move I made as I played. He nodded along to the rhythm, occasionally offering a suggestion here or there, but for the most part he observed in silence. At times, he even moved closer to me, seemingly drawn in by your performance.

As I finished he spoke up, "that's it, well done, all you're stuck on is the chorus, come here, let me help," he turned me around, coming up behind and wrapping his arms around me, placing his hands on mine, "there we go, now let's start.." he whispered gently.

His chest pressed against my back as he adjusted my grip on the guitar and helped me strum the strings, his breath was hot against my ear as he whispered instructions, sending tingles down my spine, "see, it's all about timing and rhythm," he smirked, I bit my lip and nodded, feeling the tension start to build, the air thickening.

I kept strumming, purposefully getting it wrong to tease him. His grip on my hands tightened as I kept getting it wrong. His patience started to wear thin, his body tensing behind mine as he tried to control his anger, "no, no no, like this"

I kept messing it up, a small smile tugging at my lips, "like this?" I turned to look at him, our faces inches away. His eyebrows furrowed, his grip on my hand tightening even more as he tried to control his growing frustration. His chest heaved against mine as he took a deep breath, "stop fucking around and listen to me," he growled lowly.

"Sorry Tom.." I batted my eyelashes, putting on a fake innocence to drive him crazy. I backed my ass into his crotch, softly grinding into his erection, "so, do i do the chords like this?" I smirked, playing the guitar right for a moment.

His breath hitched as he felt me grind against him, his cock slowly hardening . He clenched his jaw, trying to maintain his composure, "yes, just like that.." he murmured, his voice strained.

He tried to adjust himself discreetly, but I could feel him twitching against me. I smirked as he cleared his throat, trying to play it off, "okay Tom.." I kept grinding softly, at one point pushing my ass into his crotch.

"Tom I just can't get it right!" I whined, he hissed softly as he felt my ass digging into his hard cock, a rush of pleasure shooting through him. He tightened his grip on the guitar to try and distract himself, but it was no use. "Here, let me help you," he whispered softly, holding back a moan.

I nodded, feeling his hands gently move towards my hips, holding them tightly, guiding me to lean forward over the guitar. His breath quickened as he positioned me just right, so that his bulge pressed firmly against my ass. He could feel my warmth through his pants as he ran his fingers up and down my sides, teasing me softly.

I gasped, "keep teaching me.." I moaned softly, feeling his lips graze over my neck as he mumbled a low "ok..", his grip tightened on me, trying to guide my fingers on the guitar. His breath hitched as the friction against his aching cock became too much to bear.

I moved my hand behind me, towards his crotch, gently rubbing his bulge, causing him to let out a sharp breath, his hips jerking involuntarily, seeking more friction against my soft touches. "Not yet.." he warned, his voice low and husky, "focus on your lesson."

I smirked and returned my hands back to the thin strings of the guitar, gently strumming and slowly playing the song, "I can't get it right!" I grunted, turning to look at him again, his forehead covered in sweat, his breath ragged.

His eyes flashed with a mixture of frustration and desire, not understanding why I was teasing him like this, was I purposefully fucking up the chords? Was he crazy for thinking I was teasing him?

He swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure, "stop teasing and focus," I smirked, "you look tense Mr Kaulitz, what's wrong?" I said innocently, knowing damn well why he was acting like that.

He grunted lowly, I had lit a fire in him that he couldn't extinguish, "I'm not tense..." he growled, trying so hard to not just grab me, bend me over and fuck me until I couldn't walk straight.

"Are you sure?" I moved my hand to his crotch again, gently rubbing his erection, "you seem upset Tom.." his patience finally snapped, throwing the guitar aside and roughly spinning me around to face him.

His hands gripped my shoulders firmly as he glared down at me with a mix of anger and lust in his eyes. "Stop it, or I'll take you right here and now, do you want that? Do you want me to fuck you on this couch?.." he grunted, "what if i do..." I smirked, leaning in closer.

His anger boiled over and in a flash, he grabbed me by my wrist and yanked me towards him. His other hand cupped my face, digging his fingers into my skin as he slammed his lips against mine in a brutal, punishing kiss, "fucking teasing slut..." he grumbled, pulling me flush against his body.

His hands moved up and down my sides, gripping me tightly as he kissed me again, his lips moving passionately against mine, his tongue demanding entry. His hands squeezed my hips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue dominating mine in a heated dance, "you have no fucking idea what you do to me.." he grunted, moving his lips towards my neck, gently sucking.

"Tom.." I gasped, my mouth slightly agape as I wrapped my hand around the back of his head, gently tugging at his hair as he kissed my neck. He let out a low growl against my skin, knowing he had me right where he wanted me. His hands roamed down to the hem of my shirt, slowly lifting it up to expose my stomach and chest.

My tits hid behind my bra, his hands desperately tugging it off, revealing my breasts, my nipples hard. His gaze dropped to my exposed breasts, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he took in the sight.

His hands immediately move to cup and squeeze them firmly, drawing a gasp from my lips at the mixture of pleasure and slight pain. "Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful," he murmured.

He moved his hands back to my waist, pulling me swiftly onto his lap. I moved my hand down to his erection again, feeling his cock throb in his pants, "you want me to touch you, hm?" I whispered, moving my lips to his neck, gently kissing the skin.

He let out a strangled groan as I rubbed his aching cock, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure racing through him. His hands tightened on my waist, pulling me closer against him as he grinded into my touch, "yes, fuck...touch me, baby. I need it," he grumbled, I smirked and hummed in approval, quickly unbuttoning his pants and hooking my fingers around the waistband, dragging them down.

I hovered over his lap as he helped push his pants down further, letting them fall to his feet. His cock strained against his boxers, begging to be let free. I shoved my hands into his underwear, pulling his cock out, his tip glistening with pre cum.

A guttural moan escaped him as my fingers wrap around his aching cock, the feeling of my touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through his veins. His eyes rolled back slightly, a sheen of sweat forming on his brow as he arched into my grasp.

I started to move my hands up and down his shaft, small ragged gasps coming from his lips. As I kept jerking him off I felt his fingers slowly snake to my hips, down to my lower stomach and into my panties, running his fingers along my sopping folds.

A shudder ran through Tom as my hands work his cock, each stroke igniting a fire in his loins. The feeling of my slick heat against his fingers as he explored my panties was intoxicating, groaning low in his throat, "jesus, you're so wet for me already.." he leaned in, whispering against my lips.

I gently pressed my lips against his, whining as I felt his fingers enter me slowly. His lips devoured mine, his tongue slipping in to dance with mine as his fingers delved deeper into my wet heat "fuckkk...so tight and wet..taking my fingers so well baby.." he groaned, breaking the kiss for a second to spit dirty words at me, feeling my inner walls flutter around his fingers. His cock pulsed in my hand, straining towards release.

I moaned against his lips, continuing to stroke his cock, my pace quickening as I felt his fingers curl inside my pussy, teasing my g spot and sending shivers down my spine, "Tom...mmh..."

"You like that baby? You like when I finger this tight cunt?" he whispered, his breath fanning on my face. I nodded, whining softly as the pleasure built up, he broke the kiss, his chest heaving as he looked down at me with a dark, hungry gaze. His fingers worked inside me, pumping and curling to hit that sweet spot that made me clench around him.

He growled lowly as I worked his cock with renewed vigour, my hand flying up and down his throbbing shaft. The dual sensation of his fingers inside me and my hand on his dick almost too much to handle. "Fuck, yeah...Just like that you dirty slut.." he said, his voice laced with desire.

I felt my release quickly build up, my pussy clenching and throbbing around his fingers, soaking them in my juices. "Cum for me..let go baby.." he moved his lips down to my neck, placing sloppy kisses all over the skin, sucking gently and leaving marks in his path.

"Gonna cum baby...cum with me.." he said through gritted teeth, thrusting up into my hand, his thick cock moving up and down in my hand viciously, precum beading at his tip, his release dangerously close, ready to erupt at any second.

His cock throbbed in my hand, cum shooting across my stomach and breasts as he groaned, clenching his teeth, his pace never faltered even after his orgasm, only going harder, his thrusts erratic and cruel.

I threw my head back, moaning loudly as my orgasm came crashing down, my hole clenching tightly as my juices spilled all over his fingers.

"Fuck yes..that's it baby.." he groaned, removing his fingers from my cunt and moving them up to his mouth, gently sucking all the slick off with a pleasured hum, his chest heaving with extortion "mmh...you taste so sweet.." his eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he took in the sight of my pleasure drenched face.

After calming down from our earth shattering orgasms, he gently laid me back on the couch, climbing on top of me. His gaze darkened as he saw me ready for him, his possessiveness flaring as he pinned my wrists above my head, his cock still hard against my thigh. "You're mine, understand? Mine to fuck, mine to use however I please.." he said, his voice just above a whisper, taunting me.

"Yes Tom.." I nodded softly, looking up at him, my pussy aching for his cock. A wicked grin spread across his face as he saw the desperation in my eyes. His grip on my wrists tightened, his thumbs brushing over my pulse points.

"Good girl..." he lined up his cock, the head pressing against my entrance. He slowly entered me, inch by inch stretching me out, "ah! fuck!" I gasped, squirming in his grip. He let go of my wrists, his hands snaking to my hips instead, holding them in place.

A low grumble rumbled in his chest as he felt my warm enveloping him, "fuck, yes..You're so tight, so perfect..." he thrusted himself deeper inside me, setting a steady and dominating pace, "you belong to me now, understand?" he growled, reaching up and grabbing a fistful of my hair.

"Mmhm!" I whined, his eyes flashed with excitement, his thrusts becoming more forceful and deliberate. "You like that, don't you? Being fucked like a little slut..being fucked by your guitar teacher.." he leaned in, his hot breath against my ear, making my skin prickle.

I whined, not being to answer because of all the pleasure I was receiving, he chuckled deeply at my helpless response, pounding into me with reckless abandon, his cock throbbing inside me as he chased his climax.

I wrapped my arms around him and dug my nails into his back, the pain causing him to groan lowly. As much as he enjoyed the pleasure, he also enjoyed the pain.

The couch creaked and shuddered beneath us, a symphony of flesh slapping against flesh and my mingled moans and cries. He couldn't get enough of me, his body craving more with every thrust, "take it all, fuck.." he grunted, pulling my hair tighter, diving down into my neck and leaving rough, sloppy kisses.

He groaned into the crook of my neck, slamming into me with renewed ferocity, driven by the sweet torment of my nails and the desperation in my moans.

"Come for me, love. Let me feel you cum on my cock.." he groaned, the sound reverberating through his chest as he slammed into me with brutal force, he reached down with his spare hand and gently rubbed my clit, his cock twitching and throbbing in my needy cunt, signalling his impending release.

"Mmmh! Fuck!" I gasped, the feeling of being pleasured in 2 different ways at the same time driving me crazy, arching my back to meet his vicious thrusts.

His thrusts become erratic, powerful and ruthless, the couch slamming into the wall beside it with each brutal plunge. I felt my stomach turn in knots, my climax dangerously close with his.

His grip on me tightened as he slammed into me one final time, his cock erupting deep inside me, yelping my name. His hot seed flooded my pussy, painting my inner walls as he rode out his climax, lost in the intense pleasure of claiming me so thoroughly.

The feeling of being filled triggered my orgasm, I moaned loudly and came all over his cock, my juices spilling down it. He collapsed on top of me with a grunt, our chests heaving in unison, trying to calm down from another shared, mind blowing orgasm.

After a few minutes he gently shifted his weight off me, but remained lying close, settling behind me. His strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me into his chest. His breath still heavy as he recovered from the intense love making.

He reached out to gently stroke my hair and whispered, "I can't get enough of you, my love, we have to book you more classes during the week," I smirked, "oh do we? And what will we do Mr Kaulitz?" I taunted, turning around and looking up at him.

"Mmhh..." he gave a sly smile, his eyes glinting with  mischievous intent, "ah...I have a few extracurricular activities in mind.." he leaned in, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone.

"Oh you do?" I giggled, "and what are those activities," I whispered against his lips. His hands wandered down my body, tracing the curves of my hips and waist before pulling me closer against him. He nipped at my bottom lip, his voice husky with desire.

"Mmmh...exploring every inch of your body, making you scream my name as I take you roughly.." he grinned, "oh really? I don't think that's very appropriate Mr Kaulitz, you're my guitar teacher after all," I said, continuing to taunt and tease him.

"Oh shut up.." he chuckled, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss. I deepened the kiss, feeling his tongue invade my mouth, his hands roaming my body, caressing and exploring, as he pulled away from the kiss he looked at me with a heated gaze.

"Let's get you cleaned up love, i'll drive you home.." he pecked my lips before grabbing a tissue from the coffee table in front of us, wiping all the cum he had spurted on my tits and stomach from before, then moving down to my pussy and cleaning the cum dripping out.

He helped me put my clothes on, fixing up my hair and holding my waist as I walked, my legs close to giving out, trembling slightly with every step.

tags: @ballhair @kaulitzswhxre @tomsonlyslut

tags: @billsdolliest @pa1n-0f-l0ve @tomscumdoll

tags: @bills-wife-1 @bkaulitzlover @ella1289 @tomsfuckdoll

Tags: @miyukafujii

[dipperscavern]

dippy I’m sorry I’m a bit stupid I did not read either of the prompt bit 😭 but if possible could I just add a prompt to my previous Cregan bit? If so, ‘voices change around each other’, bc pookie would be all ‘👹👺fuck y’all I am the lord of winterfall RAGGHHH- Oh hi darling 🤗😘’

urs truly, ur very stupid cheeky anon

you’re ALL GOOD!! thank u for your congrats & i hope u enjoy!!

9. voices changing around each other (whether it deepens or their tone in which they speak changes)

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

in cregans defense, he was usually ever level-headed.

being lord of winterfell and warden of the north, you had to be — patience and understanding is cregans middle name. it’s not often he loses his temper, even less often is it unjustified when it happens, and right now, his men had royally fucked up.

winter is approaching, and with it, cregans main task has been securing enough food to last winterfell & its inhabitants for as long as necessary. the maesters can foretell when winter comes and summers ended, but how long winter lasts is never known. strengthening alliances with other houses, expanding food stores, implementing more farms and crop production — cregan had pushed everything else aside to ensure the security of the people.

even if it put pressure on cregans soldiers, his hard work had made it so winterfells’ food stores were filled to the brim — and cregan was looking forward to being able to cease his constant worrying about having enough to eat.

unfortunately for him, the gods see fit to test him once more.

one of his men hadn’t closed a food store properly, and wasn’t aware until cregan himself checked on it a few days later. by then, the food inside of it had rotted.

it wasn’t the guard himselfs fault, as one of cregans council members had failed to instruct the newly appointed guards on how to close the stores properly. in cregans opinion, error truly laid with his council. you cannot expect people to perform properly if not taught or instructed, and this was so simple a lesson, cregan felt frustration at the prospect of having to teach it.

“Am I to understand, that because of your err, we’ve been lessened an entire store?”

the men in front of him glance at one another, attempting to swallow their nerves. the food store was now being emptied in the background, as cregan had not waited to “properly” assemble in the council room. they stood outside, where cregans tone had deepened, the way it does when lord stark is angered (which is, thankfully, not often)

cregan pauses, waiting for a response, and is only offered a- “Yes, I’m afraid so, my lord….”

“Winter is almost upon us, and you intend on crippling me further. How are you meant to advise me if I must coddle you as a babe?” his tone is harsh, unforgiving. he thinks to hear ideas of solution, about what could be done, but cregan notices something else.

instead of looking at him, every man is looking past him instead. ‘have they no respect for their liege lord?’, a part of him whispers; but curiosity takes over. he turns around, and is met with you.

he blinks in surprise. “Wife.” he says, not expecting your presence. his tone is light now, airy — alike to the cregan that usually graces winterfell. the contrast in his voice from a moment ago to now would make some grin if they weren’t afraid of inciting more of their lords anger.

“I missed my lord husband at supper,” you say, as if nothing was even amiss. “You worried me, Cregan.”

cregans tongue darts out to wet his lip, momentarily forgetting about the men behind him. “That was not my intention, I-“ he cuts himself off, turning back for a moment to glance at the food store being emptied. he sighs, choosing his next words carefully.

“I shall join you momentarily.” he says, turning to face you once more.

you hum, reaching to interlock pinkies (you’re close enough to be discreet). you lean to look past cregans shoulders (a hard task), and you’re met with the faces of cregans council. instead of their usual smug-ness, their faces are a mix of awkwardness, discontent, and embarrassment. the sight of it only makes you smirk, and when you return to cregans gaze, you find a hint of bashfulness swimming in his pupils.

“Behave yourself, my love.”

cregan nods, and you shoot him one last knowing smile before you move to return to the castle.

your presence has calmed him, allowing him to think without the cloud of emotions hanging over his head. he turns back around, and shoots a look at his council before focusing all his attention on the nearby food store.

“What can be done?” he says, tone still edgy, but nowhere near what it was before. his council share an equal relief, grateful to their lady stark for her rescue.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ